Flora arrived a few minutes later. The apartment floors were so thin that as soon as Shanda buzzed her in, she could hear her footsteps bounding up the stairs. Shanda grinned widely when she saw her friend. Flora was wrapped in a cream jacket, and her tiny hands, were wrapped around a bunch of flowers.
“House warming flowers,” Flora explained. She thrust them into Shanda’s face.
Shanda laughed. It felt good to see her friend, intrusive though she may have been.
“Thanks, they smell wonderful.”
“Your eyes are swollen; you don’t look too good, what is it?” Flora’s smile disappeared. Shanda recoiled at the comment. Gee, thanks, she thought, but said nothing. She knew Flora didn’t mean anything by it. Well, other than that Shanda looked like death, but she refused to take it too personally.
“Nothing—” Shanda started to say, and then changed her mind. She ached to talk to someone. She sighed. “Honestly? I miss Ralph.”
“Oh.” Flora’s eyes widened.
They sat together on Shanda’s old, faded couch, their legs folded underneath their behinds, and facing each other.
“Really? I thought that was over and done with? He has his own life now in California, right?” Flora asked. She had always been one to cut right to the chase.
Shanda sighed again. As she did, she wondered if she’d coined that sigh as her default noise, she’d made it so often in the past few months.
“I know. Yes, it’s over and done with. I was trying to move on, but we communicated a little by e-mail. I think he realized he missed me. The thing is Flora; I think he really does love me. And yes, I know how that sounds, but… I felt it. I know he does. He has issues attaching himself to people who truly care for him, his parents—"
“No. Do not make excuses for him, Shanda. Come on. Someone who loves you doesn’t sleep with you for revenge against his crappy girlfriend, and then leave you,” Flora insisted.
Her words felt as though they had gone right into Shanda’s chest, and like a sword, penetrated her heart. Shanda knew that to someone on the outside looking in, it seemed as though Ralph had no feelings for her. But Flora had not seen the way he looked at her, or the anguish in his eyes the day they’d said goodbye. He had almost been crying. And for as long as she’d known Ralph, she’d never seen him upset to the point that he’d cried. Not even when Michelle cheated on him. He was angry, yes, but he hadn’t cried.
She thought of the way he held her as they made love, how could that not be love? But what fully and finally convinced her, were Ralph’s e-mails to her. They were sweet and full of unsaid emotions. She turned to Flora and told her all this. Flora listened patiently, nodding at all the right times, taking in everything she was being told.
When she finished, Flora shrugged.
“So, what do you plan to do? He’s off to another state and like you; he’s starting a new job. You have to move on. I’ll take you out. We’ll meet some hot guys, you just… you have to stop this.”
“I know. I just don’t know what to do. I feel as though if I don’t do something, he’ll be lost to me forever. I have to know that I tried,” Shanda said.
This time, it was Flora who sighed. She surveyed Shanda’s face, her eyebrows nearly knit together, before she spoke again.
“Against my better judgment, I’ll give you my two cents. When you get time off from work, and Ralph has settled down, go to California. Tell yourself it’s the last time. If he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with you, then come back and move on. But it has to be the last time and you really, really have to move on after that. No B.S. You will be done with him.”
Shanda nodded. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I love you Ms. Flora, you have a way of saying out loud what I’m too afraid to even think.”
Flora looked at her with sad eyes. “I just hope for your sake that it works out.”
“It will,” Shanda said with a confidence that she did not feel.
Wrenching herself from her thoughts, Shanda smiled at Flora. “So how are things going with Tony? Is he still on your case to move in with him?”
Flora made a face, her small features shrinking comically.
“Yeah, only like every single day. I keep telling him my folks are old-fashioned and to be honest, so am I. I’m not ready to move in with him without a ring on my finger.” Flora held up her ring-less hand and waved her fingers.
Shanda shook her head. She sure didn’t understand her friend. She saw no big deal in moving in with someone if the couple in question were two consenting adults who loved one another, like Flora and Tony were. Besides, marriage wasn’t all that it was touted to be.
“It’s just a certificate Flora,” Shanda said, not knowing whether she was saying it to comfort her friend, or herself.
“I know it’s hard for you to understand. Hell, Tony doesn’t understand either. I love my parents to death and being their only child…” Flora shrugged.
Shanda was an only child too; perhaps that’s what had drawn her and Flora together. Flora’s parents had decided to have their one and only kid later in their lives, and they doted on their only child. A part of her understood the need to please one’s parents, but on the other hand, love was a big deal. Independence was, too, and doing what one wants with the only life one will ever be granted- that was a big deal, as well.
“Have you told him?” Shanda asked.
Flora looked horror stricken. “Hell no! He’ll think I’m angling for an engagement ring and that,” she shook her head, “I’m definitely not ready.”
Shanda sighed. “I wish I had your problems.”
Flora contemplated her with a solemn expression. “Tell you what, let’s go out tonight. Tony and I and a few other people are meeting up for drinks downtown. Come with.”
Shanda looked at the unpacked cartons and boxes. She really was in no mood to party and with Tony and Flora; she had no desire to end up being in the position of the third wheel. Those two were always all over each other, always forgetting that there was someone else with them. Or forgetting to care that someone was with them, either way, it wasn’t something Shanda wanted to deal with.
“I don’t know Flora. I love you and Tony but…”
Flora suddenly laughed. “I promise, tonight we’ll behave. And besides, there will be other people. I think I mentioned them.”
The prospect of spending the evening alone, brooding over Ralph became unappealing. Boxes could be unpacked anytime, Shanda told herself. She was on no one’s time but her own.
“Alright, you’re on!”
They agreed to meet up at eight that evening, and Flora left shortly after.
As she staggered up the stairs to her apartment, later in the night, Shanda sang tunelessly and then giggled, realizing that she had drunk too much. She had danced a little with Tony’s friends, but by twelve, she was beat and ready to go home. Flora was right—it was fun. Ralph had only fleetingly crossed her mind, which was a feat, as his memory was always at the edge of her consciousness, waiting to be exposed.
On Sunday morning, Shanda slept in, enjoying the luxury of not having a lecture to attend. With the decision to go to California made, she felt at peace. The restlessness that had plagued her for days was gone, and she even felt excited about her new job.
Shanda’s heels made curt tapping noises as she made her way into the elevator. She pressed the button for the tenth floor, where Raise Consultancy was located. It was a smallish company with less than twenty employees. Shanda straightened herself, using the reflective steel elevator doors as a mirror, just as the elevator came to a halt, and the doors slid open.
“Morning Shanda,” Rita, the receptionist called out.
Rita was a big-boned girl, and she looked as though she was straight out of college, just like Shanda. She had long brown hair, which fell to her shoulders, and wide, innocent eyes. Shanda had picked the company for the friendliness of the people who worked there. During her interviews, everyone from the managing director to the
receptionist said hello to her and gave her some friendly words of welcome.
The main hub of the office had an open floor plan, apart from the senior managers who had glass-partitioned offices. Shanda was put on a four-member team, with three other associates and a manager leading the team. Their project was to help a bakery that had expanded too fast to figure out why, despite the popularity of their products, their sales were slipping.
It was exhilarating for Shanda to work on a real problem, as opposed to a hypothetical one as they had done in school. She enjoyed doing the detective work necessary to help people excel in their business ventures. And she’d felt instantly comfortable in her new office.
At the end of the day, as she walked out of the building, her feet aching, it dawned on her that she hadn’t thought about Ralph at all. The hours had flown by, and she felt that here, she would grow. The only thing missing was Ralph by her side. She cursed herself for ruining the running streak she had going of not thinking about him. It was inevitable. It would happen every day, though on a good day, it didn’t happen every hour.
Shanda turned the key to her apartment, went in and dropped her handbag on the table near the door. She went into the tiny kitchen, made herself a cup of tea and collapsed on the sofa. She took out her cell phone and navigated to the calendar. Next month, there was a long weekend. She had three weeks before that date, which would give Ralph time to settle down.
She would go to California then. Shanda smiled at the sheer thought of seeing Ralph, of running her fingers through his hair. Of whispering the words she had longed to tell him for so long. ‘I love you.’
Please please, Shanda murmured, let him love me back.
Chapter 6
Shanda had agonized about whether to tell Ralph she was going to California. Instead, she settled on keeping it a surprise, refusing to acknowledge even to herself that he might refuse her visit. It was important that they met face to face. Ralph’s eyes had always been a window to his feelings, and she knew if she had one more opportunity to peer into them, she would be able to tell if he still loved her.
She looked at the small bag she had packed indecisively and erratically. She was full of so many kinds of anxiety, and she found it difficult to focus on things like what she needed to bring with her. Would three changes of clothes be enough? She knew the weather in California was always warm and nice, so had packed a couple pairs of shorts and tops. There was one dress she had packed to woo Ralph, a black, strapless number which showed off her shoulders and legs from the side slit.
Her flight would take off from Portland airport, which was a good forty minutes’ drive from her apartment. As if on cue, her cell phone rang and upon glancing at the screen, Shanda saw it was the cab company. She grabbed her bag and looked around her apartment one last time. When she returned, most probably she would be coming to organize her move to California. Or so she hoped. In her heart, she knew she would be. She could have smacked herself for ever unpacking in the first place.
A barely suppressed excitement flowed in Shanda. She had a good feeling about the trip and she hugged herself in the back of the cab. Thankfully, the cab driver was not the chatty type, which was a feature she always appreciated, but she was even more grateful that day to be left alone with her thoughts of Ralph. It seemed so long ago that he left and yet she could recall every single detail of his face.
The black silky hair tinged with golden streaks. His magical smile that seemed to light up everything around him. The charisma he had that drew people to him like moths to a flame. Her Ralph. The flight to Sacramento took four hours, but Shanda was not impatient, knowing that all her dreams were within grasp. With Ralph, anything and everything was possible. With his love, she felt as though she could touch the stars.
As she had thought, California was covered in an orange, warm glow, a result of the omnipresent sun and a harsh comparison to the weather back in Oregon. In the cab to the Plan B boutique hotel, Shanda’s fingers tingled at the thought that, very soon, this would be the place she would call home. Suntanned, fit, men and women jogged along the paths and palm trees on the sides of the road swayed against the slight breeze.
The cab drove uphill and stopped in front of a charming Mediterranean style entrance, with a stone veneer. Shanda felt like a princess as she stepped out and a uniformed attendant stood ready to carry her luggage. After checking in at the lobby, Shanda rode the elevator to her room, which was on the fourth floor. After the porter left, she looked around the room in appreciation.
A double bed sat in the center of the large room and on the opposite wall, a flat screen TV was mounted directly across from the bed. Perhaps she and Ralph could spend a night here. She could imagine them cuddling in the morning, and then padding through the glass French doors that led to a garden, as the brochure had said. She was finally in California, Shanda remembered, with glee.
She opened her bag and laid the black dress out on the bed and then fished from the side pocket the tiny gold earrings she planned on wearing. Shanda glanced at her wristwatch. It was four in the evening. She had enough time to soak in the bath and get ready without having to be in a rush. Being a Saturday, she expected Ralph would likely be home at seven. Even if he planned on going out, he would be getting ready at that hour.
At quarter to seven, Shanda was all decked out, confident not only in the outfit she’s chosen, but in her attitude as well, and she was ready to finally face Ralph. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and liked what she saw. Her golden-brown locks fell to her shoulders in soft waves, just as she knew Ralph liked them. Her slim, curvy figure looked wonderful in the dress, paired with her black high heels. She frowned a little, as she stared at her ensemble critically. She hoped that she hadn’t worn too much black. She didn’t want to look like a mourner when she felt as though she was celebrating.
Giving her reflection thumbs up after a final once-over, Shanda took her red clutch bag and closed the door softly behind her. At the entrance, the doorman hailed a cab for her, and as Shanda slipped in, she said a quick prayer. She gave the cab driver a slip of paper with Ralph’s address scrawled on in her neat cursive.
She settled back in her seat and watched the passing blocks and open spaces. There was something freeing and relaxing in Sacramento, almost as if the very air dissolved all the worries and problems of its residents. She would like to live there; Shanda thought and then chuckled when she imagined what Flora’s reaction to her moving away would be.
They reached their destination much too fast, Shanda realized as her heart pounded against her chest. She could see her necklace bouncing in the same rhythm as her pulse. Her hands felt clammy as they gripped her clutch. She handed over her cab fare with trembling fingers and stepped out, her legs weak, shaking, and threatening to buckle under her. The cab left and Shanda stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the apartment block and wondering if it was a good idea to come unannounced after all. Too late now, she told herself, swallowing a sea of saliva. She was where she needed to be, and she wouldn’t be turning around.
She threw her shoulders back, and took purposeful steps towards the entrance of the complex. The elevator stood at the corner of the spacious lobby, fit for a hotel rather than a block of apartments. Ralph did like to live well, Shanda mused as she stepped into the empty elevator. As soon as she stepped out, she could hear music blaring from one of the apartments with the door flung open.
Puzzled, she fished out the piece of paper with Ralph’s address. No. 3—there was no mistake. It was his house. Damn! What awful timing for her to arrive when Ralph was obviously in the middle of a party. She had envisioned a cozy evening spent together, just the two of them catching up and then later declaring their feelings for each other once and for all.
A blue light spilled out the door, and Shanda could hear voices rising up in laughter above the music. She plastered a smile on her face and went in. She stood at the door and took in the number of people milling about the living room. There was a coup
le dancing, while others stood talking, or sipping their drinks and laughing uproariously. She scanned the room, but did not see Ralph. No one paid her any attention as she crossed the room, searching for him. She poked her head into what she thought was the kitchen and she froze when she saw him there.
He was laughing at something his companion had said, a blond bombshell in short shorts that would have given Flora’s parents a heart attack. The blond leaned on his chest in such a way that only someone very familiar with him would, and he pulled her further into his chest, kissing her lightly on the lips. She moaned. An arrow of pain shot from Shanda’s heart and circulated through her body, piercing everything that stood in its path. Ralph chose that moment to look up.
Were she not in so much pain, Shanda would have laughed at his reaction to her presence. His jaw fell and he blinked several times, as if to get clear his vision of some sort of intruder.
“Shanda?” he finally managed to say.
She smiled uncertainly. “The very same.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Shanda was desperate to detect any sign that he was happy to see her. Instead, he excused himself from the blond woman apologetically and steered Shanda gently out of the kitchen, telling the blond woman that he had to ‘deal with this.’ Shanda wanted to die with the humiliation that overcame her. She had the urge to run away, and she fought the tears she knew were on their way. Was she something to be dealt with? Ralph shut the kitchen door, walked round her without touching her and leaned against the kitchen counter. He crossed his arms and looked at her pointedly.
“Well, this is a surprise.”
“That was sort of the idea,” Shanda said in as casual a tone as she could manage.
A Maze of Love Page 7