The Fiche Room

by Suzie Carr

“It was truly dreadful,” she said to Charlie. “There was a shy crowd that night and Emma’s job was to keep the singing going. So, when no one sang, she had to belt out the tunes and try to get people enticed. Well, she enticed them alright. Right out the door.”

  We broke out into hysterical laughter, eliciting a few annoyed looks from the elitist clientele at Snapper’s.

  “I sang ‘Anticipation’ and the place emptied. Seriously, I was that bad.”

  “Well, this place isn’t too critical. You can sing every single note off-key and people will still cheer for you and make you feel like a star.”

  “I like the sound of that,” I said.

  We ate our entire meal without Colin. From time to time, he would slip me a flagging finger signaling he was on his way, but he never came back to the table while the entrees were still warm. Conveniently, as the waiter returned to clear our plates, so too did he. “I’m sorry guys, I ran into an old friend from college, if you can believe it.”

  Why wouldn’t we believe it? What was so inconceivable about it? I couldn’t even look him in the eye. He disgusted me at that moment.

  “Sir, would you like me to clear this?” the waiter asked him.

  “You know, I’m not hungry anymore. You can just take it away.”

  “You’re just going to throw it away?” Charlie asked him.

  “I said I’m not hungry anymore, so yes.”

  “Could you place it in a doggie bag for me?” Charlie asked the waiter. And as the waiter walked away with the plate of uneaten food, “I’m not too proud,” he said to Colin.

  I tapped his calf with the tip of my foot, concealing a smile. I couldn’t have asked for a more fitting way to end the stuffy evening.

  “Colin, I’m going out with them now. If you’d like to join us, we’re going to a karaoke bar.”

  “I don’t think so. Charlie, can I count on you to see to it that Emma gets home safely?”

  “You’re not coming?” he asked.

  “I’m not a big fan of karaoke. In fact, I’m surprised you’re able to get Emma to agree to go. I didn’t think you liked smoky dives.”

  “I do when I’m with the right people.”

  He squared off with me, creasing his forehead, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe I should go, then. I’m not so sure I like the idea of you being there without me.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Goldie slapped his shoulder blade.

  “Fine, let’s just go.” Colin was the first to rise and make his way out the door. I followed and when I looked back at Goldie and Charlie, they both winked at me.

  I broke the silence first as Colin sped down the highway as if in a getaway chase. “Can you slow down a little? They’re never going be to be able to keep up with you.”

  “Maybe that’s my whole strategy.”

  “So, this is how you want us to be. I squeeze into your lifestyle and ignore my own? Do you have any idea how much of an ass you made of yourself tonight?”

  “These people are different. I have nothing in common with a man who doesn’t know how to shave his face or—” he hesitated.

  “Or what? Make as much money as you do? Converse as well as you do? Because tonight, a slug could have carried on a more interesting conversation than you did.”

  “That’s nice,” he said.

  We drove in silence and he was the first to speak when we pulled into the parking lot of the bar. “This is ridiculous. Why did you agree to come here?”

  “Colin, just go.”

  “Someone’s got to protect you in here.”

  “From?”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  “I really can’t stand this side of you,” I said to him.

  “Likewise. These people turned you into a reckless fool.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “Let’s just forget it.”

  “No. We’re not forgetting this. We’re going to sit here until you tell me why you said that.”

  “This right here—” he waved his arms at the air in between us, “—this aggressiveness—it’s not attractive. It’s not you. Since when do you go to karaoke bars? You know this is not our style.”

  “Our style? More like your style. It’s always about your style. Tell me, when did my style suddenly need to become your style?”

  “I never thought it evolved from anything different. We’ve always liked the same things.”

  I always pretended to like the same things as he did. This was my first time actually suggesting something out of the realm of normality for us. “Maybe there’s a lot about me that you don’t know.”

  “You’re being asinine, Emma. I know you better than you know yourself.”

  “You have no idea who I am. Maybe this is the real me coming out to you; the one who is tired of sacrificing my ideals to replace them with yours.”

  “If that’s the case and you’ve been hiding who you are this entire time I’ve known you, then I’m the one who should be upset.”

  We both stared straight ahead, not saying a word.

  Then, like water in a desert, Goldie broke the awkward silence by banging on my window. “Come on, guys. Are you ready?”

  “Are you coming in?” I asked him.

  “I’m not letting you go by yourself.”

  As we entered the bar, memories of Haley flowed through me – her lingering fragrance, her soft wavy hair, her almond-shaped eyes pouring secret messages, her touch. People were singing out loud, music drowned out quiet conversations, and couples danced. The scene brought back that energizing feeling I had the night we were together.

  She had seduced me with her flirtatious quibbles and playful touches. She was gifted with the ability to encapsulate a moment and enjoy it wholeheartedly. How could someone with so much charisma be alone in the world? Or was she still? Was there someone she was attracted to? Was she showering her with the same enticing attention she had given me? The thought of her with another woman choked me. The stifling reality that she was free to flirt, seduce, kiss, make love to someone other than me killed me. I was drowning in anxiety.

  “I could use a drink,” Colin said.

  I latched onto his belt loop and followed him. “Me too.”

  After a few drinks, Goldie stirred up the crowd when she sang “I Will Survive.” The crowd roared with each rising note. Haley had won the crowd over too, but differently. This crowd cheered for Goldie’s bravery to sing a song that was way out of her voice range. When Haley sang, the crowd cheered because they witnessed a sexy, moving performer that filled this smoky bar with music like never before. Haley breathed life into the airless room, just as she breathed life into everything she touched. The place lacked that night. It lacked her presence. It was just as bland as my life was now.

  As soon as that song ended, Goldie whispered into the MC’s ear. And then, into the shrieking microphone, she called out to me. “Come on up here, Emma Hill.”

  I shook my head from side to side fighting off her order to join her. I jumped when I felt Colin’s hand clench the small of my back. “You are not going to embarrass yourself, right?”

  “I’m not going to embarrass myself. I’m going to finally enjoy myself for the first time tonight.” Putting words to action, I wriggled out of his pitiful grip and flew on stage with my friend.

  As I climbed up next to her, the crowd encouraged me with handfuls of clapping. “Got ‘Desperado’?” Goldie yelled to the MC.

  The gum-chewing, red-headed MC winked at us and played the music. We had the audience in our hands, dancing, singing lyrics along with us, even some climbing onto stage with us to sing backup. And as we approached the end of the song, Goldie stared right into my eyes, held my hand, and sang the hook to Desperado directly to me, emphasizing that part that says I had better let somebody love me before it’s too late.

  When we finished, the crowd cheered.

  I drank in their vivacious, uninhibited energy. They ac
cepted me even in my black Nordstrom turtleneck and tailored skirt. No one judged anyone in this crowd. It didn’t matter if I was a lawyer, a janitor, a failing businesswoman, black, white, Hispanic; everyone was treated as an equal in this place where the goal seemed to be the same for everyone: let loose and have fun.

  The only one who judged was the man leaning against the back wall with a scowl on his face. The man who thought he was better than all of these people combined. The man who revealed a hideous side of himself that I doubted he could ever redeem after his disastrous ill-fated attempt to ‘get-to-know’ my friends. The man for whom I’d given up my identity for the sake of pleasing him. And why? So I could make my daddy proud, be a normal person, and be socially acceptable to a group of people I really didn’t like?

  All that he was to me, from across the smoky bar room, was a stranger. A man I was deeply embarrassed of now. A man I lost respect for in a matter of minutes that evening. This man, whom I once thought of as charismatic and worldly and able to get along with anyone, didn’t really exist. And the woman he thought I was didn’t exist either. The woman I was wanted nothing more than to escape this stranger’s demoralizing stare and flee to the one familiar person who made me feel free and accepted, Haley.

  Chapter 17

  Colin had zero regard for Goldie and Charlie as they stood across the parking lot, by their car, waiting for him to finish pitching his reprimands towards me so they could take me home. He paced the gravel in front of his Jaguar, hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief that I would act so foolish and disrespectful towards him all evening.

  We both hurled curses with dagger-sharp points at each other. We never had fought so badly. Never had we made such horrific, hurtful, insulting accusations towards each other. But, with flared tempers and hurt feelings, the words snapped out of us both like bullets from a machine gun; one right after the other, without thought, question, or the least bit of hesitation. And once our argument was over, once the words were exhausted and the emotions drawn to capacity, the shells of the loaded words couldn’t be taken back without notice, without mark, without leaving scars.

  “You’ll never drag me out like this again,” he said to me.

  “Oh, don’t worry. There’ll be no more nights like tonight,” I said, whirling around on my foot to flee to Goldie and Charlie.

  He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him. “Is that a threat?”

  I wrestled out of his grip, “Take it the way you want.”

  “You acted like a complete idiot tonight, prancing around that stage like a tramp in heels in front of a crowd whose primary interest in life is how much beer they can chug and how many cigarettes they can smoke.”

  “Well at least they don’t have their noses stuck to the damn ceiling.”

  “I’m not going to listen to your belligerent little mouth yap anymore ridiculous insults.” He clicked his car remote and started his engine. “I’m leaving.”

  “Good. Leave.”

  I crossed my arms to my chest and tapped my foot, waiting for him to embark on his self-absorbed journey home.

  As he walked past me, he stopped, lifted my chin and glared into my eyes. “This little attitude needs to go away.”

  I narrowed my eyes on him and slapped his hand away. “This little attitude is who I am. So get used to it.”

  He latched onto my wrist again, this time squeezing it tight between his strong fingers. “Let’s not make a scene, okay?”

  “Why, Colin? Afraid my friends might actually see a real person with real issues emerge from that tough exterior you so diligently polish every day before waltzing out your door?”

  His eyes shot flames at me like a blowtorch. “I’m going to get in my car and pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  I clenched my hands into a fist. “That’s right. Just keep pretending. It’s worked perfect for us all these years.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  A lump barged into my throat. “You have a distorted image of me if you think I haven’t pretended.”

  He blinked and cocked his head in one dramatic simultaneous move as if caught off guard by my candid statement. “Care to explain that to me?”

  I looked up to the sky. “Look up at the stars. You know when you look at one indirectly, it sparkles, but the second you stare at it directly, you can barely see it any longer?”

  He kept his eyes on me. “What’s your point?”

  “The Emma you think you know is that star you stare at indirectly. That Emma shines like a brilliant gem in your eyes because you’re only looking at me partially. If you could stare at the real me, I believe that gem you created in your head would stop shining its dazzling light on you. You don’t know how to look at me straight on and see who I really am.”

  “And whose fault is that?” he asked, conceding to the truth.

  I could blame no one but myself. All those times I thought I massaged our relationship with my lies, I disheveled it instead. He had no idea how I’d rather eat pizza instead of a choice cut of tender steak, how I bit into my cheek to avoid wincing in disgust every time he made love to me, or how I despised his need to be the best at everything.

  Grief pinched my throat. “Mine. It’s my fault.” I bowed my head and kicked the tiny pebbles at my sandals.

  He reached for my hand and pulled me towards him. “I love who you are. I don’t think you do, though.”

  I cautioned against his sincerity. I wanted more fight. His soft eyes held tenderness. And his embrace did too. He brought me into him and cradled me in his arms.

  I did love myself. But this person I loved was different than the one Colin loved. Colin loved the perfect me. He loved the ‘me’ whose goal was to make him look good in front of friends and employees, the ‘me’ that feigned attraction and satisfaction, the ‘me’ that squashed my ideals to cater to his.

  Would he ever respect my desires? Would he ever have a picture I painted framed and hung in our home? Would he ever honor me the way Haley did? I blossomed under the shower of her attention. Her interest in Goldie and Charlie, in my artwork, in her attraction to me, lifted me higher than ever before. Colin, he had no clue how these things could make me soar.

  I loved the ‘me’ that emerged when he wasn’t around, the confident ‘me’, the sexy ‘me’, the real ‘me’.

  Goldie’s words echoed in my mind, Why are you torturing yourself like this? The truth was, I didn’t love him the way I should and I suspected he didn’t love the person I truly was underneath all the fake smiles, laughter, and satisfaction. So, why was I torturing myself?

  Ten, twenty, thirty years from then, would it be any different? Would I have to spend the rest of my life pretending to happy? I didn’t want to pretend. I wanted to live the reality. I didn’t want to be cooped up like a caged bird, shackled to Colin’s dreams and ideas, abandoning my own.

  I didn’t like pretending to love fancy dinners, to enjoy pointless small talk with snotty girlfriends of his uppity friends, or to be excited about moving into an elaborate home, one that Goldie would never feel comfortable visiting.

  If I wanted pizza, I didn’t want to settle for spaghetti. If I wanted to run, I wanted to refuse to walk. If I wanted to quit my job and pursue art on a street corner, then damn it, I didn’t want to settle on anything but.

  With Haley the world shifted around us, like draped silk. Sparks flew between us, connecting our souls when she looked into my eyes, when she touched my skin, when she kissed my lips. Would I ever get to feel the euphoria again?

  With Colin, I couldn’t create a spark with him any better than I could from a wet piece of wood. No matter how hard I tried to find the magic with him, my efforts never amounted to anything. The attraction just wasn’t there.

  And as long as I married Colin with only his intentions in mind, I wouldn’t be free to love him the way he deserved to be loved and thus have him love me in the same way. I was ready to claim the love I deserved. And the only way
I would claim this love was if I stood up for myself finally.

  But when I pushed off his chest and looked up at him, the confidence in his deep gray eyes jabbed at my courage. I wanted to be that person he admired. I wanted to look at him with the same confidence. I wanted him to appeal to me sexually. He appealed to so many other women. Not a stroll through a mall, restaurant, or any other public place happened without at least a dozen stares from interested women. Why didn’t I see what they saw?

  Standing still in the dark parking lot, I steadied myself against his strong hold. Gone was the sound of rock music from the now lonely building. Goldie and Charlie had long since retreated to the sanctity of their car. The only sound was the thumping of my own heart and the thud of fresh raindrops against the pavement.

  I sniffled, breaking the awkward silence. He raised my head with a lone finger braced under my chin and revealed a flowing of fresh tears leaking from my eyes, splashing my face with moisture. He spilled a knowing smile on me.

  He traced his fingers along my cheek. “It’s okay. The life I will give you soon will overshadow this little bout with insecurity. Once we’re married, living in our new home, throwing the best parties, walking the dogs we’ll adopt, and staring into the bright, hopeful eyes of the kids we’ll have, all of this self-love will be irrelevant. You won’t have time to worry about Emma anymore. You’ll have purpose.”

  “I already do have purpose.”

  He ran his hands along my back. “Hanging out in smoky bars, with friends that look like they stepped out of a bad eighties movie, and drawing up sketches with your pencils is not what I would consider purpose, Em.”

  “Firstly, don’t ever insult my friends like that again. Secondly, you make my passion sound like a joke. Do you mean to tell me that Picasso and Van Gogh didn’t have purpose through their work?”

  “I can’t believe you would be pretentious enough to compare your work to that of famous artists, Em.”

  “I thought you’d like me being a bit more like you — ostentatious.”

  “When it’s fitting, sure.” He curled his lip up in a half smile.