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Color of Loneliness

Page 3

by Madeleine Beckett


  * * *

  “I’m going to stop by the vending machine and get me a candy bar. I need something sweet to offset all of that spicy food. I’ll stop by your desk later, okay?” Susie says.

  Myra nods before she steps onto the elevator and presses the button for the tenth floor. The conversation from lunch plays over in her mind, and she pays no attention to the people getting on and off the elevator until it stops on the fifth floor. The elevator doors open and Myra’s stomach drops to the balls of her feet when she sees the gorgeous blonde standing there.

  Julia shoots daggers with her eyes as her stilettos make sharp clicking noises against the tiled floor as she steps onto the elevator. Myra swallows hard, keeping her eyes trained straight ahead as she tries desperately to pretend she doesn’t see her. From the corner of her eye, she catches Julia flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Her eyes widen when she hears her mutter “bitch” under her breath.

  “Excuse me?” Myra asks as she turns to face her.

  “You heard me, bitch,” Julia says with her lip snarled. “I know what you’re trying to do.” Her perfect features twist with hatred. “I'm not stupid. I know you're trying to get Trent back with this little mourning act of yours for your brother or uncle or whoever the fuck you told him died. But it’s not going to work. Because he’s in love with me now.” Her eyes burn into Myra's. “Don't think for a second that he’s ever going to come crawling back to you,” she says as she lays a hand gingerly on her belly. “Especially now.”

  Myra’s mouth drops open as her heart pounds painfully. Her gaze darts from Julia’s hand, back up to her face and back down to her stomach again. “You can’t be… Are you? What?”

  Julia grins maliciously, leaning close to Myra’s face. “Listen good.” One of her perfectly manicured red fingernails pokes at Myra's shoulder. “I know you're still in love with him. But you better back the fuck off because there’s no way in hell he’s ever taking you back.”

  Julie sends Myra one more wicked scowl before she exits the elevator.

  * * *

  Myra’s hands grip the railing until her knuckles turn white. She hangs on for dear life afraid that if she lets go, she’ll collapse. Crumble. Disappear. Her breath rasps in and out of her mouth; she can hear the thumping of her heart in her ears. The elevator continues to dutifully move up and down the floors letting people on and off.

  When she finally comes to her senses, she has no idea how long she’s been rooted to her spot. The elevator stops on the ground floor and she immediately lets go of the handrail, running as fast as she can through the front door and out of the office building.

  With stumbling feet, she continues running towards the subway. Quickly slumping into a seat, she leans her head against the window, and closes her eyes, willing her heart rate to slow down. The vibration and the coolness of the glass feels good against her skin, but the noise from the subway can’t drown out her thoughts.

  Trent plants long, sucking kisses along Myra’s bare hips. “I love you.”

  Myra smiles, twisting her hands in his hair. “I love you too.”

  Tears begin to trickle down Myra’s face.

  He hums contentedly, his lips moving to her stomach. “I’m going to take care of you. I'll buy you a house and bring you flowers every Sunday.” He moves his kisses to the valley between Myra’s breasts. “Hmm, you'll look so adorable with a big belly. With my baby.” He lifts a hand and tickles her stomach.

  “Trent,” Myra gasps between giggles.

  “Are you ticklish here? What about right here?”

  Myra continues to giggle until Trent stops, looks into her eyes and grins wickedly.

  “I think I need to practice up on this whole ‘putting a baby in you’ thing. So that when the time comes, I’ll be up for the challenge."

  Myra beams at him. “Please.”

  “Get naked,” Trent demands as his hands reach for her bra.

  * * *

  Myra somehow remembers to get off the subway. Tears stream down her face as she stumbles along the sidewalk to her apartment. Blindly reaching into her bag, she feels around for her keys, but can’t find them. Dropping to her knees, she dumps the contents onto the floor around her, desperately searching for them.

  Harsh sobs escape her mouth as her chest heaves and she gulps for air. Angrily, she scrubs at her eyes, trying to clear her vision so she can see, but she still can’t find her keys. Dropping her head into her hands and leaning against the door, she weeps as sobs wrack her small frame.

  With the sleeve of her coat, she wipes her eyes and nose quickly before resuming her search for the missing keys. Almost ready to give up, she hears a jingling sound from her coat pocket. Her shoulders sag and she blows out a breath when she shoves her fingers into her pocket and pulls them out.

  Sniffling and hiccupping, she crams everything quickly back into her bag and stumbles into her apartment. She sends one email informing her boss of her sudden illness and explaining that she’ll be out for the next couple of days.

  * * *

  Myra flips on the light in the bathroom and opens the medicine cabinet where she sees an array of medications including sleeping pills and pain killers. She stares at them, thinking, always thinking. Sighing, she closes it and steps into her bedroom, her exhausted body crawling into bed, not even bothering to remove her coat or shoes.

  * * *

  Time passes slowly as the afternoon fades away. Occasionally, she hears a ringing sound, but her muddled mind doesn’t register the noise. The sleep she so desperately wants finally finds her and pulls her under.

  A loud banging sound jerks Myra awake. Sitting up, her hand reaches for her pounding heart. She frowns, confused for a moment. But a glance down at her coat and shoes brings back the unfortunate events.

  The incessant banging continues as she slowly crawls out of bed and opens the door.

  “Myra, oh my God. What the hell is going on?” Susie yells as she pushes past her into the apartment. “I’ve been calling, texting, emailing, calling. Good God, woman, you scared the holy shits outta me. You were fine at lunch and then just disappeared. What’s going on?” Susie frowns as she stares at Myra’s clothing. “Are you going somewhere?”

  Myra can’t hold the tears back. “He promised. It was supposed to be me…” Myra mumbles as Susie grabs her and hugs her to her chest.

  “What is it?” Susie asks, rubbing her back gently.

  “Julia,” she says before hiccupping.

  “What did she do this time? Because, Myra, I swear to God, I’ll cut that bitch and I mean it.” She pauses. “Well, not really because you know I’m a total chicken shit, but I’ll cut her with my words, by golly. I’ll slay that bitch verbally with my fiendish tongue.”

  “Julia… Julia’s pregnant.” The words tumble out of her in between wrenching sobs.

  Susie gasps and stares at Myra for a moment before she hugs her even closer. “Oh, honey…”

  Myra holds onto her friend and crumbles.

  * * *

  “Okay, you’ve got your warm jammies on, you have a bowl of the yummy soup I made, and we’re going to sit and watch funny sitcoms together,” Susie says as she flips on the TV and flops on the bed next to Myra. “Thank God I still have my leftover chips from lunch today because all you have in this house is food suitable for a baby rabbit. I’d be starving to death right now if I wasn’t thinking about myself all the time.”

  Myra would normally laugh at her friend, but she can’t. She doesn’t have it in her. “Susie?”

  “Yeah?”

  Myra takes in a deep breath, staring down at the comforter. “I want you to take my letter to HR tomorrow. I’m not going back.”

  Susie turns off the TV and shifts to face Myra on the bed. “You sure?” she asks quietly.

  Myra nods. “I can’t go back. I’m done.”

  “I’ve wanted you to quit that damn job forever, but I don’t want you to regret…”

  “I’m not going
back.”

  Susie stares at her for a moment before she nods. “Okay.”

  “I’m moving back to Oregon.”

  “What?” Susie shouts, as she quickly scrambles to sit up.

  “I can’t stay here anymore. I have to move on. Get unstuck like you said. So I’m going to move into Grampie’s old house. It’s mine now anyway. And maybe start that novel I’ve wanted to write.”

  “Holy shit. Are you doing this because of what that bitch said to you today? And why Oregon? Why not just stay here?”

  “I didn’t just decide this today. I’ve been thinking about it ever since the funeral. What happened today just confirmed my decision. Besides, I’m paying a fortune for this apartment, and Grampie’s house is paid for. Plus I’ll be away from Trent and… and her for good. I can start over. Start fresh.”

  “What about the insurance?”

  “I’ll worry about that later. Maybe I can go on Cobra, or find an insurance company that’ll insure me,” Myra says as she rubs the comforter between her fingers, liking the feel of it.

  “Wow. You’ve pretty much rendered me speechless, which you know is an impossible feat,” Susie admits, chuckling. “I’m all for you quitting that stupid job, but moving away? Damn, what am I going to do without my best buddy?”

  Myra smiles. “We’ll still be best buddies. Just via phone calls, texts, and emails.” Myra grabs Susie’s hand and squeezes it.

  “So we’ll be virtual best buds?” Susie asks as her eyes begin to fill with tears.

  Myra nods her head, smiling, as tears begin to stream down her cheeks.

  “Okay. I think I can live with that. Thank God we have the same cell phone plan otherwise I’d have to take out a second mortgage to pay my upcoming cellular bills. What can I do to help?” Susie asks as she sniffles and wipes her face on her sleeve.

  “Find me a good mover,” Myra says softly as her hands swipe away her tears.

  CHAPTER 3

  BROWN, REGRET

  “What was I thinking?” Myra moans to herself as she scans the mountain of boxes sitting in the living room of Grampie’s house. Now her house. She sits cross-legged on the hardwood floor, her head resting in her hands, completely overwhelmed and not sure how to even begin to tackle everything. Her heart races and her breathing hitches.

  “Don’t,” she shouts to herself. Rubbing her temples with her fingertips, she closes her eyes and takes several deep, calming breaths. “You can do this,” she says. Slowly, her heart rate returns to normal. She sighs as she looks around the room, trying to figure out what to do first.

  She decides to unpack the most important things. Scanning the labels on the numerous boxes, she gets more and more upset when she can’t find the one box she’s looking for.

  “Finally,” she mumbles as she picks up the prized box and carries it to the kitchen. After opening it, Myra glances at its contents: Vitamin D, Vitamin C, Vitamin E, fiber, Omega3, green tea. All the extra pre-cautions she takes because of what happened to her mom.

  She steps up to the kitchen cabinet closest to her and grabs the handle to open it. The cabinet door falls, crashing to the floor and narrowly missing her foot.

  She lets out a loud scream as she clutches her chest. Breathing heavily, she stares with wide eyes at it as her heart tries to pound out of her chest. She tries not to think of what would have happened had it landed on her foot.

  Her phone rings.

  “Shit,” she hollers even louder, the curse echoing down the hallway. With shaky fingers, she flips open her phone.

  “God, Susie,” she says before she pauses, trying to catch her breath. “You scared me half to death.” Myra continues to hold her hand on her chest as she tries to slow her breathing and racing heart.

  “Now is that any way to greet your virtual buddy? What in the world are you doing?”

  “I was in the kitchen. When I reached for one of the cabinet doors, it fell off the hinges.”

  “Oh my God. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just shook me,” Myra says, still trembling as she sinks down into a kitchen chair.

  “I bet. If that had happened to me, it would’ve taken my foot off; or at least a toe or two. That’s awful. Hey, speaking of awful, I have to tell you what happened to me last night. Remember I told you we were going out to dinner for my brother’s birthday?”

  Myra hums in response.

  “Well, he picked some spaghetti place that I’d never been to, and I was thrilled because you know my weakness for some pasta. So anyway, I decided to be really good all day on my eating because I knew I was going to eat like a hoss at dinner. So I had an apple for breakfast and an orange for lunch…”

  “Susie,” Myra says.

  “I know. I’m an idiot. By the time we got seated, it was seven thirty and my blood sugar was so outta whack I was ready to start gnawing on my arm for sustenance. Thank God they brought out some yummy garlic bread; I started shoveling that stuff in as fast as my chops could chew. Then I ordered some kind of spicy chicken pasta dish. It was pheeenomenal. I ate almost the whole plate, and their servings were humongous. And for dessert, I ordered cheesecake. Oh God, Myra, it was a euphoric orgasm on a plate, I kid you not. I’d trade Jeff’s dick any day for some of that goodness,” Susie says before she makes disgusting, horrifically loud orgasmic sounds in Myra’s ear.

  “God. Stop…” Myra gasps out between peals of laughter as she leans over the kitchen table holding her stomach.

  “Well, the big, giant dumbass that I am wore these really tight jeans and a belt. You know, I guess I wanted to look fatfuckhawt or something. Anyway, I suddenly could not breathe. I mean I was dying. I mean I felt like my circulation was being cut off. So I covertly laid my napkin in my lap and undid my belt and the button on my jeans. Who does that shit? So I not only sat there hating myself for all of the food I just hoovered, but I then wanted to kill myself because I had to get up and walk to the car with my pants undone. Yep, I could not get them buttoned back up.”

  Myra’s laughter gets interrupted by knocking on the door. She stands up and wipes tears from her eyes. “Hang on a sec,” she mumbles as she walks towards the front of the house.

  A big smile breaks out on her face when she sees the gray-haired gentleman standing at the door. “Jim. Hi, come in,” she says. She holds up her phone. “Give me just a minute?”

  Jim smiles back and nods.

  “Hey, Susie, I have a visitor. Can I call you back?”

  “Yes, but you better not forget or I’ll whoop ya.”

  Myra smiles. “I won’t.”

  She flips her phone shut and tucks it in her pocket.

  “I thought that was you I saw earlier,” Jim says as he gives Myra an affectionate hug. “What are you doing back in town so soon?”

  “Come in and have a seat. Well, first let me make a path through these boxes so we can find a seat,” Myra says, chuckling as she starts moving boxes out of the way in an effort to locate the sofa.

  “Here, let me help.” Jim jumps in and helps move the boxes around. Within minutes, they clear a path and do indeed find the sofa.

  “What are all of these boxes for?” Jim asks as he sits down.

  Myra laughs softly, shaking her head. “Well, I’m not really sure what in the world I’m doing, but I’m back. I’m moving in.”

  “Really?” Jim says, grinning. “That’s wonderful. You’ll be such a pleasure to have as a neighbor.”

  “Thank you. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No, I’m good. Looks like you have a lot of work ahead of you. Do you need some help unpacking?” he asks as he looks around the room.

  Myra follows Jim’s eyes and gets a sinking, overwhelming feeling again when she thinks about the monumental task ahead of her. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine.”

  “Nonsense. This is definitely not a one-person job. Give me a knife and a box, and I’ll get started.”

  “I’m serious, Jim. I can do this on my own.”

  “Nope. N
ow where’s that knife?” he asks with authority in his voice and a big smile on his wrinkled face.

  Myra sighs and smiles back before reluctantly agreeing and walking into the kitchen to retrieve him a knife.

  * * *

  “I’m going to have duplicates of everything because of all of Grampie’s things, but if we can get the boxes emptied and put into the right room, I’ll go through everything later,” Myra tells Jim.

  They work quietly for a long time, getting through a majority of the boxes.

  Jim clears his throat. “You know, I’m really going to miss your grandfather. Davis was a very dear friend to me, and my only neighbor for miles around,” he says with a chuckle. “No, it wasn’t just that. We were very close.” Myra sees the pain on his face, the pain of losing a friend, someone he loved.

  She walks to the sofa and sits, patting the spot next to her. “Let’s take a break,” she says softly.

  Jim sits, resting his arm comfortably on the back of the couch. “Davis and I had so many things in common. We were neighbors for what seemed like forever, we both had just one child, and we both had careers that weren’t incredibly lucrative, but we loved what we did. And we both lost the love of our lives before we should have.” He stops talking and looks out of the window with a look of longing on his wrinkled profile.

  He slowly turns back to Myra with a sad, faraway look in his eyes. “Ah, Emma, God rest her soul. Never a day goes by that I don’t think about her. Did you know she’s been gone ten years now?” Myra nods. “She loved Davis as well; although she loved your grandma even more. Those two were the best of friends. The four of us had some really good times together,” Jim says, shaking his head slightly as if recalling fond memories.

  “And your dad,” Jim says, smiling and causing the wrinkles around his eyes to crinkle. “I think I loved him as much as I loved my own daughter. He was really something special.”

  Myra nods and wipes the tears in her eyes.

  “He was such a good man. One of the finest men I’ve ever met. He was truly one of a kind.” Jim takes Myra’s hand into his own; it’s been twisted by arthritis, but he manages to rub her hand gently. “Sweetie, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just wanted to let you know how special your family was to me; and how special you are to me.”

 

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