by Dara Girard
“Miriam,” he finished. He shook her hand. “A pleasure to finally meet you,” he said his warm gaze making her blush.
“Thank you.”
“There you are,” Andre said coming up behind her. “You can't win an award and then disappear. People want to talk to you.”
Paula glanced at Conrad. She didn't want to, but she had to see how the news affected him.
He didn't look surprised or hurt--he looked devastated. He was as clumsy at hiding his feelings as he was with his limbs, letting his heart spill out for everyone to see instead of keeping it guarded like a mature adult. It angered her. She wanted to shout at him “No, you're doing it all wrong. You're supposed to act as if you don't care. As if I don't matter to you.” She hated how vulnerable he looked, how his emotions were so raw and real. But worse, she hated him making her feel vulnerable, because she was the cause. Had he kept his expression neutral she could have convinced herself that it was no big deal, but he'd not given her the option. She'd made a terrible mistake and would have to face the consequences.
“You won the award?” he said.
“She didn't tell you?” Andre said. “You're looking at the recipient of --”
“It's no big deal,” Paula interrupted.
“Of course it's a big deal,” Conrad said the pain in his eyes reflected in his voice. “Congratulations.”
She couldn't say “thank you.” She couldn't say anything. She just wanted to run. But there was no need. Conrad turned and left and at that moment she knew she'd lost him. But she didn't want to. She raced after him and grabbed his sleeve. “I'm sorry.”
“For what?” he said sounding defeated.
“I should have told you about the award and the banquet, but I know how much you hate crowds and--”
He spun around, his eyes hard and dark. “You think I wouldn't want to be by your side while you accept a prize you worked hard for? You should know me better than that. You know that no matter how much I hate dressing up, sit-down dinners and podium speeches, I would have come. I would have done anything for you. Now tell me the truth.”
She took a step back unnerved by the ferocity of his tone. “The truth?”
“Yes. The truth is you didn't want me to come.”
She wanted to lie but knew that he'd see right through her, just as he had the first time they'd met. “It was a stupid choice and a vain decision. I regretted it the moment I made it.”
“But you didn’t change your mind.” He sighed with exasperation. “You know you matter to me, but the truth is that doesn't matter to you. I don't matter. I see that now.”
“You've got it all wrong.”
“Really? I am a man and I have an ego and desires just like any other man. And I can tell when the woman I care about is ashamed of me.”
Paula shook her head and kept her voice steady. “I'm not ashamed.”
He set his case down and folded his arms. “When were you going to introduce me to your family? How about your friends? I've only met Tamara and that wasn't through you. When was I going to move past just being a friend? Did you think I'd be fine just holding your hand and giving you light kisses?” He lifted his tuba case. “I know I'm not perfect and I know I'm the right man for you, but I'm not going to wait around until you figure it out.”
“Paula, time to go,” Andre said, coming up behind her and gently pulling on her arm.
She didn’t move. She felt like she was being torn in two directions.
Conrad glanced past her and looked at Andre then returned his gaze to her. “You do look good together.”
She blinked back tears. “No, it's not like that. I--”
“Bye, Paula.” He stared at her for a long moment then shook his head and walked away.
***
That night Paula lay in bed, praying for sleep that refused to come.
She felt like a butterfly whose wings had been ripped. She should forget him but she couldn't. She should bask in the approval of her mother and the envy of her friends, but she couldn't. She'd hurt him, but the most awful part was realizing that her selfish behavior showed how much she didn't deserve him. She deserved the dreamers and egos. They reflected a side of her she'd never taken the time to see. Not only had she picked berries that were shiny on the outside and bitter on the inside, she was one of them. Outwardly beautiful but inwardly sour.
She suddenly felt disgusted with herself. What had Conrad seen? How could he have cared for her? He was too kind, too giving, he deserved a woman who was the same. But that didn't stop her from wanting him. “Because I'm a selfish cow,” she said aloud. His grandmother had been right not to trust her. She didn't deserve him. And she now understood what her aunt meant about her marriages: heaven and hell. It wasn't about the men but how the men made her feel. Not how the world viewed them but what others couldn't see, just as heaven and hell were whatever people imagined them to be.
But suddenly that didn't matter anymore, because she realized that too much was based on what was seen. Her mother had been the envy of her town for marrying the wealthy bank executive, Mr. Nelson Oyelowo and joining his household, but behind closed doors she had to endure the jealousies, unhappiness, and loneliness. Her mother had hated the loneliness the most. She never knew when her father would select her for the night and sleep in her bed. She hated how his last wife flaunted her beauty and schemed and manipulated him, and how blind he had become to the needs of his other wives.
As it was for blackberries, it really didn't matter what things looked like on the outside. What mattered was how things were on the inside. How they tasted. Paula remembered how the berry had melted in her mouth. She knew when people looked at Conrad they would see a large, shy man with an awkward gait. His former tailor had seen a soft hearted man he could sucker, his chef friend saw someone he could con. What she remembered of him was how beautiful and intelligent his eyes were; how he'd been the first person she'd called when she'd had to evacuate her apartment building in the middle of the night, due to a gas leak scare and how he'd stayed on the phone with her the entire time, his soothing voice making her feel cherished. How he'd highlighted all the best places for her to go to in the area for the best hiking trails or kayaking, even though he preferred a simple walk in the park or renting a tandem bicycle and going nowhere special. Most people wouldn’t see his unselfish ways by just looking at him.
Paula suddenly realized those were the moments that truly counted. How he made her feel, not how everyone thought he looked or how they felt about him.
***
“So what are you going to do?” her aunt asked the next day, as Paula sat in her kitchen snacking on some dried fruit.
“There's nothing to do,” she said feeling tired. “I can't get him back.”
“You can at least try.”
“You saw his face. It's hopeless.”
“Yes, I saw his face and I know he loves you. You're making it hopeless by not even trying.”
He may have loved her once, but not anymore. “He won't want me back.”
“Is that fear talking?”
“Yes,” Paula said fighting against tears. “I don't want to fail.”
“Is he worth failing for?”
“It's me. I know he deserves better.”
“Then be better.”
“How?”
“You'll figure it out.”
No, she wouldn't. She knew that no words, no gifts, no apologizes could heal the rift that had come between them. She wanted him to be happy. Isn't that what someone who loved did? They let that person go? If she wanted to prove how unselfish she was then that's what she would do. Or, she could become better. And she knew the person who could help her, although it would be a painful lesson.
***
Paula stood on the porch of Conrad's grandmother's house for five minutes debating whether she should knock or leave. She hadn't called and wasn't expected, so she could just turn around and go. But that would be the coward's way and she wasn't going to be t
hat...not anymore at least. She took a deep breath then knocked.
His grandmother opened the door. “I wondered when you'd make up your mind. What do you want?”
“I need to talk to you,” Paula said.
“About what?” His grandmother said with a sniff. “I knew you'd break his heart.”
“I want to heal it.”
“I can't help you.” She started to close the door.
Paula stopped her. “I deserve your anger and anything you want to throw at me, but I'm not leaving until I get to talk to you.”
“Suit yourself.” She shoved Paula back then slammed the door.
Paula glared at the door. The woman was stubborn but so was she. She sat on the porch and waited. His grandmother came out two hours later, startled to see Paula still there. She said nothing, turned, got in her car and drove away. Another two hours passed and she returned. She walked past Paula and went into her house. As the sun set, Paula considered sleeping in her car but didn't move. She was hungry but didn't care. She woke up later with a blanket covering her and the smell of coffee. She stretched her arms then blinked at the man sitting in front of her.
“Conrad?”
“My grandmother called me to get some intruder off of her property.”
“I guess that would be me.”
He stood avoiding her glance. “I put coffee in a thermos for your trip back.”
“I gave it back.”
He looked at her. “What?”
“The award. I gave it back. I didn't deserve it.”
“Yes, you did. You worked hard for it.”
“But life isn't just about actions and what people can see. It's about what's on the inside. The award should go to someone who's good both inside and out.” She leaned forward and took a sip of the warm cup of coffee he held out to her, swallowed then fell on her knees in front of him in complete humility. “Please forgive me.”
“Paula get up.”
“Not until you forgive me.”
Conrad pulled her to her feet. “Don't do that.” Although he’d never grown up or visited his grandfather’s homeland in Ghana, he knew the seriousness of such a gesture.
“I am showing you utmost respect.”
He shook her. “Stop it.”
“I want to be with you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I want you back. What do I have to do?”
“Give me time. I'll call you.”
***
He didn't call. He didn't email. He didn't text. She knew it was over. Twice she thought of going by his place but both times she stopped herself. He asked for time and she'd give him all that he needed. She owed him that much. However, when a month passed she prayed to never see him again. She didn't want to see him happy with someone else. Someone who would know how to treat him and remind her of the man she'd lost.
“I can't believe it didn't work out between you two,” Tamara said as they shopped for her daughter's birthday. “I thought you'd be perfect.”
“You were the only one who thought we'd look good together.”
“I didn't say you'd look good, I said you'd be good.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh that's right I need to get him a “get well” card.”
“Why?” Paula asked anxious. “Is he sick? Will he be okay?”
Tamara opened her mouth then closed it and looked at her friend with a smug grin. “I thought you were over him.”
“I am.”
Tamara just continued grinning.
“What?”
“If you're so interested, why don't you go ask him?”
***
For three days Paula debated whether she should go see him or not. Even as she stood at his front door she questioned her decision. But when he opened the door it was too late to turn away. She stared at him. He had his arm in a sling and his leg in a cast. “What happened?”
He shook his head. “You'll only get mad at me?”
“Why would I get mad?”
He bit his lip then sighed. “Because you warned me.”
Paula looked at him confused then finally understood. “You ran in flip flops didn't you?”
He nodded. “Tripped down the stairs and sprained my wrist and broke my leg.”
“Why are you so clumsy?”
“That's right I'm a big, clumsy baboon. Fortunately, you don't have to worry about that anymore.” He closed the door.
Paula stared at it paralyzed. He'd slammed the door in her face. He didn't want to see her. He had every right. She shouldn't have scolded him. She leaned against the door frame then slid to the ground. She shouldn't have come. He'd rejected her twice. She closed her eyes and hung her head then heard purring. She felt a soft fur brush against her skin. She looked up and saw Wispy. She was no longer a kitten, but was still adorable. She stroked her. “You snuck out, you naughty girl.” Paula stood. She'd have to let him know. She rang the bell. He opened it faster than she'd expected as if he'd been waiting by the door.
“What?”
“Wispy got out.”
“Oh.”
“Who's helping you?”
“I'm managing.”
She pushed past him. “Sit down. I brought you some food.”
“Paula--.”
“I'll leave after you've eaten and you'll never see me again,” she said. His place was a mess, which wasn't like him. He had dishes in the sink, clothes on the floor, paper scattered, dust on the plants and shelves. “When was the last time your housekeeper cleaned up?”
“I gave her time off.”
“Fine.” She'd clean up instead. She prepared his meal, but he refused to let her feed him, so she got to work cleaning up. She tidied the kitchen, washed the dishes, mopped the floor and then vacuumed and dusted his living room and bedroom. She washed his clothes and ironed them then put them away. It was when she was hanging up his shirts that she saw his gray tweed jacket. The one she'd refused to wear when he'd offered it to her. It still had a smudge on the hem. She slipped it on then looked at herself in the full length mirror. She looked ridiculous. It was obviously too large and the color clashed with her complexion, but she didn't care.
At first the realization shocked her. She could hear her mother's voice, feel the sharp sting of the spoon hitting her skin for not being good enough. She remembered the stinging tears of pain of having to pack because the third wife had won. She'd gotten rid of them and her father hadn't fought for them to stay. She remembered on the flight to Canada promising herself that she'd one day be just as powerful as the third wife. She'd be cunning and bold. She'd be beautiful and demand respect. But in her quest to be like the third wife she'd lost herself. She'd lost some of her compassion. She'd become a thin veneer of a woman she'd always hated. No more.
She didn't care what anyone thought. She realized as she looked at herself that Conrad had never been the problem. She'd been afraid of what people would think about her, but not anymore. For the first time in her life other's opinions didn't matter. She didn't care. She smiled at her reflection and hugged herself. All that mattered was that the coat belonged to the man she loved.
She returned to the kitchen humming.
“That jacket's too big for you,” Conrad said behind her.
“I know. I like it.” She turned to him, her heart pounding. “Actually I love it.” She kissed him and this time his kiss wasn't like hot cinnamon chocolate but sweetened blackberries--mouth watering juicy and delicious. And when she drew away the guarded look that had been in his gaze before was gone. In its place was a sense of trust that made her heart soar. There was no chasm between them. He knew he could trust her with his heart. He could trust that she'd always be there for him not matter what anyone thought. That she was proud to be with him and nothing would change that.
Conrad suddenly swore.
“What?”
“I can't even hold you.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “That's okay. There's plenty of time for that.” She rested her head against his chest and sighed.”Your
grandmother's not going to like this.”
Conrad kissed the top of her head. “She'll get used to the idea.”
“I hope so. I have to thank her.”
“For what?”
Paula only smiled and hugged Conrad tighter. He was a keeper and she'd never let him go.
The End
***
Other Titles by Dara
If you enjoyed Lost and Found don't miss Dara's other stories...
A Gift for Philomena
A Home for Adam
Miss Lana Wilson
Something New
A Fortunate Mistake
* * *
Or collections...
Five Holiday Tales
The Lady Next Door and Other Stories
* * *
Or novels...
After Hours (Book 2, Return of the Black Stockings Society)
Playing for Keeps (Book 1, Return of the Black Stockings Society)
Illusive Flame
Honest Betrayal
The Sapphire Pendant (Book 1 in the Clifton Sisters Series)
Table for Two (Book 1 in the Henson Series)
Gaining Interest (Book 2 in the Henson Series)
Careless Rapture (Book 3 in the Henson Series)
Familiar Stranger
The Daughters of Winston Barnett
The Henson Brothers (Includes the novels Table for Two and Gaining Interest)
Out of the Past (Includes the novels Careless Rapture and Familiar Stranger)
Discover these books and more at www.iloripressbooks.com
Copyright Information
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Author.
A Thousand Words
Copyright 2014 Sade Odubiyi
A Thousand Words is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed herein are fictitious and are not based on any real persons living or dead.
