by Marilyn Grey
“I guess.” I walked into the dining room and imagined her sitting at my piano the first day Gavin and I moved in. “Sometimes I think I miss her because we’ve been together since we were so young, right after my high school romance came to a crashing halt. There isn’t an important memory in my life from then to now that doesn’t include Lydia.”
“And you’re saying you want to start over with someone new? Find something better?”
“No.” I sat down at the piano. “There is no one better than her. Just different. Someone different. Something new, exciting. You know, Lydia and I have spent our twenties together, growing into adults together. We were off and on for so many years. We had so many down moments. Maybe I want to fall in love with a woman, instead of a girl. Maybe I want to know what it feels like to be with someone else.”
“That’s not really fair to her.”
“I know.” I pressed down on a low A key. “That’s why I need to let her go.”
Ch. 7 | Ella
The bridge from Philadelphia to New Jersey is so beautiful. Something about it inspires me every time I cross it. Except this time Sarah’s iPod just so happened to play a familiar tune, one that made me sink down into the seat and ignore the gorgeous landscape.
“What’s wrong?” Sarah turned the music down.
I looked out the window, ignoring her question.
“Oh. I’m sorry, Ella. I didn’t realize my iPod was on still.”
Silence carried us to the other side of the bridge. Over the same river I got stuck on the night I lost my dreams.
“That was weird timing,” she said, looking for my reaction.
My gaze didn’t leave the window.
“How long are you going to let this eat at you?”
“Easy for you to say,” I snapped. “You still have your camera in your hands.”
“I’m sorry.”
I exhaled and looked at her. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to react like that. It’s just that you still take pictures, just like you did when you were a kid. There’s only one thing I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid and it’s been taken from me, all because of my stupid choices back then. If only I would have—”
“There are no ‘if only’s’ in this life, Ella. You know, you wouldn’t have met this man you are waiting for if it weren’t for your choices back then. That night may have scarred you forever, but it also gave you him . . . something to live for. And you have been living for mysterious Mr. Right for the last few years. You don’t need to zero in on one thing like this to find joy. You can be happy no matter what your circumstances are. You don’t need dreams and fantasies to be in love with life. Just live your life and you will fall in love with everything around you.”
I avoided her gaze.
“I love you. I hope you know that. And loving you means telling you the truth. Trust me, it kills me that you feel that way, but photography isn’t my dream. It never was. Sure, I love it and it’s fun. I love that I get to make a living off of my favorite thing to do and I don’t take that for granted. But it’s not my dream.”
I finally looked into her gentle eyes. She did love me. I knew she said these things out of love.
“My dream is every day. When I wake up, I want to find something new. Something beautiful about each day I’m given. I want to take the cards I’m given and play them with a smile, not to win, just to play. My hands could be sliced off and I wouldn’t spend my life trying to find a way to snap pictures with my feet. I would pick up the cards I’m given and enjoy the game. That’s my dream. To live today. Tomorrow may never come.”
“Not according to Annie. She thinks the sun will come out tomorrow, clearing away the cobwebs and the sorrow.”
“Annie needed hope. We all need hope. Maybe she was just looking in the wrong place. Hope doesn’t need to come tomorrow, it can come right now. We don’t need perfect circumstances to find hope. Annie didn’t need caring parents to find hope. Hope lived in her, she was just too focused on her surroundings to realize it.”
“You have gotten much more introspective over the last few years.”
“I guess that’s what being single does for a person. Too much time to think.”
“Cheers to that.”
We arrived in Cape May, checked into our bed and breakfast by the beach, and immediately walked out to the shore. Sarah, of course, brought her camera. Honestly, the thing seemed to be permanently attached to her hands. Not so good for me, because I spent more time with her than anyone else. If she didn’t ask me to pose as a subject, well, then she’d ask me to hold up a reflector or a flash or something to help.
I always wanted to be a photographer, but it just didn’t work for me. A few times Sarah let me borrow her back-up camera. I’d meander about the city, take a few pictures here and there, and come back with nothing exciting. Music came natural to me, the other areas of art . . . not nearly as much.
I guess that’s why it was so difficult for me to see others blossoming in their own creative expressions. I would probably never be able to play the violin again.
“What are you thinking?” Sarah asked as her camera collected images of the frothy shores.
“Just wonder how different things would be if I didn’t miss that flight.”
“Yeah.” She rolled her finger over the tiny button on her camera. “But if you keep trying to fix the past and plan your future you will never live today.”
“Fortune cookie quote?”
We laughed.
Sarah sat down and pushed her toes under the sand. I did the same.
“There’s something beautiful about the beach,” she said. “Something so peaceful.”
“So, what’s on your mind lately? Anything deep and interesting?”
“Not really.” Another wave crashed against the shore. “I did meet a guy though. I haven’t wanted to tell you. Didn’t want to upset you.”
“Why would it upset me? I want you to be happy. Just because I’m spending my life waiting around for him to come back into my life, well, that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to get married.”
She smoothed her wavy blonde hair behind her ear. “I know.”
Nine years ago. How can nine years feel like just yesterday and decades ago at the same time? I walked into the coffee shop that stood in the very place Chances now resides, his eyes immediately caught my attention.
Bright eyes, charming smile, hat tilted just so. A few co-workers stood beside him, laughing and talking. I can’t even remember what they looked like. Whenever I found the courage to look up, my gaze fixed itself on him. And him only.
Sadly, my friend Kate ordered our coffees before I arrived, so I had no real excuse to go to the register and talk to him. She even ordered a dessert for our late-night girl time. Again, no excuse to talk to him.
Kate and I talked for a while. She talked mostly, then said, “Ella, are you with me tonight? What’s going on?”
I didn’t want to say. Kate had broken up with her long-term first love. They met in middle school and became best friends, started dating in ninth grade, went through everything together during all four years of high school, then broke up when he went away to college and found someone else. Last thing I wanted to talk about was the guy looking at me across the coffee shop.
“I’m here. You are enjoying being single now?”
“Yeah, I think so. I feel free in a sense. My options are open. I’m not tied down. I want to enjoy the next few years and see where it takes me.”
“I understand completely. I’m glad you’ve found freedom and feel good about this. I knew you would after a few weeks.”
“What about you? Any prospects?”
“No, no.” I glanced across the room, but didn’t see him.
“Really? All this talk about marriage and you’ve barely dated anyone since I’ve known you.”
“Sure I have. Just haven’t lasted very long.”
“You are too picky.”
“I’m really not. It won’t ta
ke much to sweep me off of my feet, but you’ve seen these last few guys. We had Mr. Baseball who probably looked into my eyes and saw baseballs in my pupils. Mr. Empty Pockets who would waste money on anything and everything, yet constantly talk about how he wanted to be rich. Mr. Suave who spent more time on his hair than I do. It’s not like I’ve had the best options.”
We laughed. I shrugged and looked around again.
Kate tapped the table and raised her eyebrows. “You seem anxious tonight. What’s going on? You’ve seemed a little out there since your accident. Are you okay?”
I nodded.
“You ready to head out now?”
He must’ve left. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Let me go to the bathroom real quick and we’ll leave.”
She hurried off while I picked up her receipt and turned it over. My name is Ella. Call me sometime? 610-555-2949. Immature is the best word to describe how I felt in that moment, but I didn’t want to miss my chance. Something about him. I can’t describe it. Something about the way he looked at me . . . I just knew.
Ch. 8 | Matthew
Well, Gavin convinced me to let Lydia go if I genuinely wanted something different and new. I have to admit, I didn’t like it. I know it sounds horrible, but I wanted to try something new while Lydia waited for me. I knew if I let her go that she’d end up with someone else quicker than I would. Her beauty, sense of humor, and intelligence would snatch any guy in a heartbeat.
She hated when I told her she could have any man in the world.
“I only want you,” she’d say, wanting me to affirm the love she needed from me.
“I know.” I’d stare into her eyes and wonder why I couldn’t give my life to her and ask her to be my wife. She literally had everything I could ask for in a woman. Everything except something. Something I couldn’t figure out for the life of me.
I do have issues. . . .
Enough of the issues. Gavin told me to stop hurting her, and I needed to let her go. I wrote her a letter. Explained my heart, why I needed to let her go, and that we could get together one last time and talk through it if she needed. It killed me to send that letter. I gave it to Gavin and, I hate to say, my eyes welled up when he walked out the door to the mailbox. I knew she wouldn’t see me again. I knew the next time I’d see her she’d be wrapped around another guys arm.
Gavin said he’d help me find someone else and I needed to trust him. I hadn’t the slightest idea what that meant, but I had nothing to lose. It didn’t take long for him to reveal his plan.
He came in the apartment door smiling a little too much for my comfort.
“What are you up to?” I said, from my usual place on the couch.
“I’ve got your first prospect.” He smiled again.
“My first prospect?”
“Friday, 8 o’clock. You are meeting her at Varalli’s.”
I stood up, probably looked like a deer on I-95.
“Don’t look so shocked. You said you wanted to meet new people.”
“No, no.” I rubbed my head. “Not like this. Are you kidding me, Gavin? I’m not doing the blind date thing. I would rather see a woman on a street corner opposite of me and fall in love as we cross the street. I’m not into the blind dates, you know this. Why would you do this?”
“Don’t overact. It will be fun. It’s kind of like a game.”
“A game? You wanted me to end things with Lydia because you thought I was playing with her heart, and now you want me to play with other women by creating a game show out of my life? I don’t—”
“Calm down. I’m not asking you to be in a game show. I’ve got a few friends of friends and I thought this might give you a chance to see if you can find someone ‘better’ than Lydia.”
“It’s not about finding someone better.” I sat back down.
Gavin shook his head and sat on the other couch.
“It’s not. Look, I know I seem crazy, immature, whatever you want to call it. I know you think I’m so lucky to have Lydia and I’m nuts for letting her walk out the door, but I’m not out to find something better or worse or the same. I’m just curious about something different. What else is out there? Is there a one? Is Lydia the one? Is someone else?”
“Well, what if Lydia is the one and you let her go and don’t find someone else?”
“I don’t know.” I pictured Lydia’s face just before she left. Why that woman still loved me I will never know. “All I know is that if it’s Lydia, she will wait for me and I will fall in love with her again. It will be like the beginning all over. If it’s not her, then someone else will come. I don’t doubt it.”
“I can understand that.”
“Thank you.”
He looked down. Bright eyes gone serious again.
“What are you thinking?” I said.
“I’m thinking you think too much, man. I’m trying to live my life and you’re always making me think too much about it.”
Gavin rose and walked to the window. We’ve been friends so long, but you’d never know it if you met only one of us at a time. Gavin is one of those guys. Could get any girl he wants really. An artsy painter. Long hair that somehow looks messy and clean all at the same time. Casual meets professional is how I’d best describe his style. Me on the other hand? Short blonde hair. Paint brush in my pocket. Bruised knees and holes in my pants. Black Converse shoes with worn laces that never stay tied. I’m normal. Nobody wants the normal guy.
“What are you thinking?” I said.
He kept his eyes on something outside the window. “Nothing.”
“The infamous nothing.”
He just had to set me up on a blind date at a
restaurant. I could dress up too much, or dress down too much, and I had no idea what this girl would dress like. Gavin wouldn’t tell me a thing about her. Oh, except her name. Chelsea. Given the name I imagined her to have blonde hair, curly, and dressed in a sundress with those cork board heels, or whatever they are.
So, I dressed to match a sundress with a button down shirt and the only nice jeans I own.
Gavin left earlier so I didn’t have to hear his jokes as I left, thankfully. It didn’t take long for me to get to the restaurant. An hour early.
Don’t ask.
I brought a book in my shoulder bag and sat in the waiting area. I tried to read, but blind dates made me so nervous. I don’t like the expectations that come with it. What if we are not attracted to each other? What if I’m attracted to her, but she thinks I’m weird? What if she thinks I chew too loud? What if she orders really expensive food?
Like I said, I tried to read, but that didn’t go so well. I did, however, manage to fill the next hour with enough thoughts to send most people to their grave a few years too soon.
Then, about a half-hour before eight I started pacing in the waiting area. Hands in pockets, hands out. Leaning against the wall, sitting on the bench. Looking out the door out of the corner of my eye, turning around so she would only see my back. Very insane, very insane. Trust me, I know.
I looked at my phone. Quarter ‘till eight.
“I’m not late, am I?” A soft female voice said from behind me.
I turned. Maybe I turned too fast.
“Are you Matt? You look like Matt.”
“I do?” I smiled. Something about her casual nature eased my relentless mind.
She laughed. “Should we go in?”
“Sure.” I opened the door for her and smelled a subtle honeysuckle scent as her blonde hair brushed my right arm.
No sundress. No curls. Soft blonde hair pulled back into a loose tie. Jeans. Not too tight. Not too loose. Plain white t-shirt. No makeup, at least none I could see. And topped off with a pair of white flip-flops. Normal, but pretty.
I kind of liked that.
The hostess seated us. I can’t remember what she looked like. I was too busy looking at Chelsea. She reminded me of Lydia, only more natural. Lydia liked girly stuff. Makeup, curling her hair. I can’
t tell you how many days I spent sitting there watching her get ready for two hours, just so we could go to McDonald’s.
We sat down across from each other. She smiled at me like she knew me for years. I smiled back. A pianist played in the background. I tried not to hear him.
“I love the music here,” she said. “Have you been here before?”
“I’ve played piano here more times than I can count, but oddly enough I’ve never eaten here.”
“Oh really? You play piano? Anything else?”
“I can fiddle with other things, but the piano is where I speak the most.”
She laughed. “Speak?”
“Yeah.” I picked up the menu and skimmed the pages.
“What do you mean by speak? How do you speak with an inanimate object?”
I looked up, then back to menu. “Well, I guess I use the keys to say what I’m feeling. The music sort of becomes my voice.”
“Sounds weird.” She picked up a menu. “So what do you like to eat?”
I tried to ignore the “sounds weird” part and looked at the prices in the menu. “I like anything, I guess. Not really picky. What about you?”
“I am a vegan. I only eat plants and things like that. Do you know how bad it is to eat meat? Oh, it’s just horrible.” She put her menu down and leaned forward. “You’re not going to order meat, are you?”
“Does seafood count?”
She nodded, almost disgusted at me for even saying it.
“I was just kidding.” I rubbed my neck and wondered what on earth I got myself into.
She looked at the menu. “Things like that aren’t funny.”
“Did you want to go somewhere else?”
“There’s nothing on this menu that appeals to healthy people.” She leaned back in her chair. “I can’t believe you joked about that on a first date. That’s so disrespectful.”
The waiter stopped at our table. I held back a laugh.
“Sorry I took so long. I’m James. Can I get you two something to drink?”
“I’ll have four bottles of wine and a cup of ice please,” I said. “The biggest cup you have.”
