Resurrecting Phoenix

by Isabel Lucero

  Marissa: What do those three dots mean??

  “Hey, darling,” Carol greets, walking up to my table. “The usual?”

  “You know it,” I answer with a smile.

  “You got it. When I get back, I want to talk you, okay?”

  “Sure,” I say with a nod.

  My phone chimes again.

  Marissa: ??? Hello? Dots? You’re leaving that open. Why is that an open ended sentence? What aren’t you telling me?

  Me: Are you at work? I can run by there after I eat and we can talk.

  Marissa: Yes. Eat fast.

  Just as I’m putting my phone on the table, Carol is back with my Coke. She looks around and makes sure nobody in her section needs her before sliding into the booth across from me.

  “I’m sorry I told Evan about Gordon. He didn’t know what was going on, so I asked him what he said before you ran off. When he told me, I let him know not to mention love and death because of what you’d been through. Please don’t be mad at either of us.”

  “I’m not mad, Carol,” I reply with a shake of my head. “I was upset that day, but I’ve talked to him since then and told him that Gordon was killed on our anniversary, and that I’m still struggling with that.”

  She nods and seems to breathe a sigh of relief. “So, how’s our friend?” she asks with a grin.

  “He’s fine,” I say with a small laugh.

  “Yeah he is.”

  “Carol!” I squeak, but she knows I’m amused by her.

  “Don’t act like you don’t see it, child. You have eyes in your head.”

  “Anyway, I wanted to thank you for your advice. I’ve been to the mall and the grocery store and survived both trips,” I boast with a smile.

  She returns the grin, but hers is twice as wide. “Good. I’m so happy to hear that, Phoenix. Really. I guess that’s why I haven’t seen you around here lately. You finally got some food in your house.”

  “Yeah, and Evan has made me a couple of meals,” I admit.

  She sits back, gripping the edge of the table and looking at me with wide eyes. “Oh really, now?”

  “He’s being a nice friend,” I say nonchalantly. Before she can say anything else, I continue. “Hey, are you going to be here tomorrow?”

  “I’m always here.”

  “Okay, good.”

  “Why?” she asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “Just wondering. I’ll be by tomorrow for lunch.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, trying to get a read on me, but I only smile at her.

  “Okay,” she drags out. “I guess I should get back to work.”

  “Yeah, I would like my food,” I respond playfully.

  She rolls her eyes and heads towards the kitchen.

  Once I get my food, the place starts to fill up, so Carol doesn’t get a chance to come ask me anymore questions about Evan. I finish quickly, pay my bill, and begin my trek towards Marissa’s office.

  The small real estate building is two blocks up and one block to the left. A few people smile at me as I pass them, and I’m quick to return the gesture. Maybe it’s time for me to show people that the old Phoenix is slowly coming back. I don’t want to forever be the girl who broke down and never put herself together again.

  As I round the corner and make it half way up the block, I freeze in my tracks. A cop car is parked along the street in front of Marissa’s building. I watch from behind my sunglasses as Anthony rounds the vehicle and Marissa darts out of the building into his arms. He chuckles, gives her a kiss, and then hands her what looks like some lunch.

  I slowly make my way into a small alcove in front of a jewelry shop, not wanting them to see me. Eventually, I’ll have to face Anthony again. I know that. But seeing him now in the same uniform my husband used to wear, in the same car my husband used to ride in, punches me in the gut.

  If I spoke to Anthony I’d either break down into a ball of tears, or explode into a ball of fury. He deserves neither, so I need to make sure I have myself together before that happens.

  They only speak for a few minutes before I hear a car door close. I turn my head just as he passes me, pretending to look into the display window. I exhale deeply, and then continue up the block until I reach Allen Realty.

  When I walk in, Marissa is standing at the front desk talking excitedly to a woman about some house she’s hoping to close in on.

  “Hey,” I announce.

  Marissa turns around quickly. “Phoenix! You made it. Quick, come to my office,” she says, striding down the short hall.

  I give a small smile to the woman at the front desk before following behind Marissa. Her office is the second door on the left, and while it’s not that big, she definitely made it homey. The walls are covered with beautiful art pieces, most of them double exposure. She has fresh flowers on her desk which I can’t help but wonder if Anthony gave her.

  Pictures fill up most of what’s supposed to be a bookshelf, but it seems to be a picture shelf instead. I notice the ones of her and Anthony first, and then I spot a couple of me and her together. That brings a smile to my face, but it’s quickly lost when I see one of the four of us. Me, Gordon, her, and Anthony. All of us are mid laugh around a dinner table. I remember that night. We were out celebrating Marissa’s thirtieth birthday, and it was just a few months before Gordon died.

  “So?” she questions, taking a seat in her leather chair.

  I avert my gaze from the photos and pretend to look around the office like I haven’t seen it before.

  “So, what?” I ask, moving to the chair on the other side of her desk.

  “The dots? You know I hate the dots. What did you and Neighbor Evan talk about?”

  I shake my head, a small smile forming on my lips. “Nothing, really.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  “I just went over and told him about the letter, and then we talked about a little of this and a little of that.” Marissa narrows her eyes at me, making me laugh. “Okay, so I told him a little about my parents. Did you know they left town?” I ask.

  She nods. “Small town. Word gets around.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself, but you know . . .” I trail off, embarrassed that I ignored my best friend for so long.

  “We’ll catch up,” she says, not sounding at all bitter.

  “Well, yeah. They’re assholes.” I say with a laugh. “Anyway, I asked where he moved from, and he told me L.A.”

  “Wow. What would make him want to come here?” she asks, scrunching up her face.

  “I don’t know. It kinda seemed like he was running from something. Not like he’s on the run, but he said he needed a change, and that he wouldn’t miss it as much as he’d enjoy being away from it.”

  “Huh. Interesting.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not digging into his life. I don’t want to ask too many questions, because I’m not ready to delve any deeper into my own shit, and I feel like asking him questions gives him the right to ask me some.”

  “That’s how you get to know someone, Nix.”

  “If he gets to know me, I’m afraid he won’t like me. I’m too messed up right now, and I don’t want to drag him down. He’s like this beautiful, luminous star that’s just so bright and free, and I’m this black hole, ready to suck in anything close to me and diminish its light completely.

  “Don’t say that, Phoenix,” Marissa admonishes softly. “Maybe his light will brighten up your dark world. You think of that?” I look into my lap but don’t respond. Marissa sighs, and then moves on. “Did you talk about anything else?”

  “Not really, but I did almost burst into tears in front of him and had to excuse myself to the bathroom.”

  She gasps. “Oh no. What happened?”

  I shake my head. “It’s so stupid. We were just watching a movie, but it was a cop movie and one of them died, maybe both. I don’t even know. As soon as the second one was shot, I knew he wasn’t going to live, so I ran out of the room. I blamed it on girly emoti
ons, and he changed the channel.”

  “Oh, Phoenix,” she breathes, a pained and morose look on her face. “You haven’t told him about Gordon being a cop?”

  “No. I don’t want to get into that, because then it gets into that night, and I can’t deal with that.”

  “I’m sure if he knew he wouldn’t have put on a movie like that.”

  “I know, but not everything is about me. He can’t watch a movie he enjoys because I’m around and anything to do with police officers makes me bawl? That’s not fair.” I pause for a few moments. “I saw Anthony right before I came inside. When I saw the car and saw him in uniform, all I could think about was Gordon.” I take a deep breath and look at her with teary eyes. “I miss seeing Gordon in his uniform,” I say with a shaky smile. “He always looked so good in it.”

  Marissa grabs a tissue from the box on her desk and hands it to me. I dab the Kleenex underneath my eyes.

  “They certainly were a sight for sore eyes, those two,” Marissa agrees with a hesitant smile.

  “I’m gonna talk to him. Eventually. I’m just not ready yet, okay?”

  She smiles. “That’s fine.”

  With another swipe under my eyes with the tissue, I force myself to talk about something else. Anything else.

  “So, I’m gonna try to hook up Max and Carol.”

  Her brows furrow in confusion. “Diner Carol and Bartender Max?”

  I laugh. “Why does everybody have to have a title with you? Yes, Diner Carol and Bartender Max. He and I have gotten close. Not under the best circumstances, but he’s a good guy, and you know Carol.”

  “She’s a hoot.”

  “Yeah, so I’m taking Max to lunch over there tomorrow.”

  “Oh, that’ll be fun. Do they know?”

  “No,” I admit with a laugh.

  “Even more fun! Can I come?”

  “Of course. I only have to work in the morning, so I’m gonna meet Max over there around twelve-thirty.”

  “How you liking that job?”

  “It’s a job,” I say with a shrug. “I almost never have anything to do, which I was perfectly okay with. Everybody wants to get paid to do nothing, but when I have nothing to do, my mind wanders and never to a good place. Or I just drink.”

  Marissa grimaces. She’s seen me drunk before. She knows about my meltdowns and has been an eyewitness to two of them. The one at the funeral and one at the bar. It wasn’t until about four months after Gordon’s death that I began actively trying to ignore her.

  “You still drinking often?”

  With a lift of a shoulder, I answer. “Depending on the day I have, I’ll only need a drink to go to sleep. On other days, I may drink during the day just to make me forget how alone I am.”

  “Phoenix,” she says through a sigh. “That’s not . . . you shouldn’t have to do that. Have you ever . . .” She pauses, obviously trying to figure out how to word the question I already know she’s gonna ask. “Do you think you need to get some help? Maybe see somebody?”

  “It’s not like I haven’t thought of that, but I’m scared and I’m embarrassed. I keep telling myself I can stop on my own. I’ve cut back a bit in the last few days. That’s good, right?”

  The look she gives me tells me it’s not good enough. “Just let me know if you need my help.”

  “I’m fine,” I say in a tone harsher than intended. This is why I don’t talk about my drinking. I get defensive. “I’ll be fine,” I say in a softer voice.

  She presses her lips into a flat line. “Okay.”

  “Well, I should get going. My plan is to go to the park and enjoy the beautiful day.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” she replies with a genuine smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch?”

  “Of course.”

  She pulls me into a hug before walking me out of her office. The park is a few blocks away, further from the area of businesses, and surrounded by some apartment complexes. I find a bench under a tree, and make sure I don’t sit on any bird poop.

  There are a few kids kicking a soccer ball around, a teenaged couple hanging out near another tree, and an older man sitting alone at a picnic table. Since I forgot to pick up some bread to feed the ducks, I pull my phone out of my purse and begin reading a book on my Kindle app.

  About twenty minutes later, a soccer ball comes flying towards me. I have just enough time to squeal and bring my arm up to block my face, but it only hits the bench before coming to a stop near my feet.

  I place my phone next to me and lean down to pick up the ball as one of the kids comes running. The little girl who has to be around seven comes to a stop a few feet from me.

  “Sorry. My brother kicked it too hard,” she says nervously.

  “Well, that’s okay, sweetie. No harm done. You guys having fun?”

  She smiles wide. “Yeah. I’m better than my brother.”

  We giggle together. “That’s because girls rule, right?” I say with a wink.

  “That’s what I told him!” she squeaks. “He thinks boys are better at sports.”

  I hand her the ball. “Well, you go show him how it’s done.”

  “Kay!” she chirps, taking the ball from my hands and running off.

  I end up watching the kids play for the next fifteen minutes before they follow their mom into a van and leave.

  I’ve always wanted kids. I know a lot of people who are terrified of becoming moms, but I’m not one of those people. I just always imagined having them with Gordon. The kids would have his gorgeous blue eyes and caring heart. I suppose it’s time to start imagining something different.

  Getting up from the bench, I take notice of the large group of dark gray clouds slowly making their way into town. I slip the strap of my purse over my shoulder and begin walking back towards my house, hoping I can out walk the rain.

  With a quick glance at the time on my phone, I see that it’s already five after four. At four-fifteen, the rain catches up to me. They’re just small sprinkles at first, but then huge drops begin hitting my head and face. It seems like it’s coming from all directions, soaking me completely within two minutes.

  The sky is dark, the small breeze makes me shiver as it blows over my wet skin. I feel my hair sticking to the side of my face. I pick up my pace, knowing I still have at least twenty minutes before I’m close to getting home.

  About ten minutes later, a vehicle begins creeping alongside me. I try to take a glance in that direction, but the wind now has the rain blowing directly in my face, and it’s hard to make out much of anything.

  “Phoenix!” the voice yells. “Get in here!”

  I look back and can barely make out Evan’s face as he leans close to the passenger side and pushes open the door. I climb in quickly, grateful to be out of the rain, as he puts the passenger window back up.

  “Thanks,” I say through somewhat chattering teeth.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asks with concern etched in his tone.

  I rub my hands over my arms, trying to warm myself up, and he automatically turns on the heater and grabs a hoodie from the backseat of his truck.

  “Put this on.”

  “Thanks,” I repeat.

  “I always hear people say you gotta learn how to dance in the rain, but it didn’t look like you were dancing, and I’m pretty sure they don’t mean hurricane type of rain,” he says in his dry humor kind of way.

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  He looks at me as I’m just pulling the hoodie over my head and grins. “You’re welcome.”

  “And we don’t have hurricanes.”

  “Could’ve fooled me. This rain is ridiculous. I can barely see,” he says as he pulls away from the curb.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I was enjoying the warm, sunny weather we were having, but I guess Mother Nature thought I’d had enough.”

  “Looks like you’ve had enough rain, too.”

  “Again, thanks,” I reply dryly. “I’m sure I
look like a drowned rat,” I say, trying to push the wet strands of hair away from my face.

  He laughs. “Nah. I’d say more like a submerged kitten.”

  “What?” I squeal. “That’s supposed to be better?” I can’t help but laugh at his description of me.

  “I assumed all girls thought kittens were cute . . . wet or dry. No?”

  “Not all girls are fans of cats, me being one of them, and I don’t think any woman would want to be called a wet . . .”

  “Pussy.”

  My jaw drops and I can only stare at him in shock. And then I’m cracking up. “Oh my gosh,” I cry, leaning into the door.

  “What? I meant pussy cat,” he says with a mischievous smile. “You’re the one who took it another way.”

  “Whatever,” I say, still laughing. “Don’t try to make me out to be the pervy one.”

  “Oh, I’m the pervy one, then?” he asks. “I don’t think so, Miss Fifty Shades of Tie Me Up and Spank Me.”

  “Oh my god! I can’t believe you just said that!” I exclaim, my cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling too much.

  He just glances over at me and winks, giving me an adorable lopsided smile. A few minutes later as he’s pulling into my driveway, I realize I still haven’t stopped smiling.

  “Well, thank you for coming to my rescue,” I tell him, unbuckling my seatbelt.

  “That’s what I’m here for, to save all the townswomen from bad weather and frozen foods.”

  “Oh really?” I retort, crossing my arms and leaning my back against the door. “You’ve been cooking meals and giving rides to everybody, huh?” I ask with a smirk.

  “Not everybody. Just the women.”

  “You’re terrible,” I say, shaking my head.

  “I’m kidding. I’ve just been saving you, Phoenix,” he says seriously.

  His eyes are intense, staring deeply into my own and traveling into my soul. With this one look, I feel like he’s telling me he knows I’m broken. He knows I’m troubled. And he knows I need help. He’s being the help I need and I’m afraid he’s starting to see the real me too much.

  I open the door, glad to see the rain has died down a little. “Thank you for trying to save me, Evan.”

  As soon as I close the door to the truck, I rush to my porch and struggle with my key for a few seconds before pushing the door open. When it closes behind me, I slide down the dark wood until my butt hits the floor.