by R. Rodriguez
“You didn’t like your party?” I asked, eager to please him.
“Naw. Naw, babe. The party was great. Thanks.” Dario offered me a short peck on the cheek, but his gaze was elusive.
“Why so serious?” I pouted.
“We need to talk, Grace.”
I immediately knew that it couldn’t be anything good.
“Shoot,” I said.
“I know I told you I’d be sticking it out here for the summer, but I got an offer to play pro back home.” He dropped the bomb.
“Back home. In Argentina?” I mumbled.
“Yeah, babe.”
As always, Lucian was right. Dario’s promises proved to be empty once again. I began to feel the familiar disappointment creep up my chest, but I didn’t let on to my extreme disenchantment. I let him explain.
“Don’t worry, babe.” He kissed me again. “I’ll be away for the summer, only.”
I was mute the whole time. I knew I should’ve told him that it was okay. That he should enjoy his time there and what a great opportunity that was and all that. I should’ve said that I’d wait for him, but frankly I didn’t feel like it.
“When are you leaving?” I limited myself to ask.
“Tomorrow,” he said evasively.
“T-tomorrow, Dario?” I was shocked that he would tell me this on the night before his departure.
“It was all very sudden, Grace. You gotta understand.” He grabbed something from his pocket. It was a greeting card. “Here, open it. I got this for you.”
I picked up the slightly bent greeting card to open it, but Dario didn’t even let me do it myself. He ripped up the envelope hastily and handed the card to me.
“Here, read it, Grace. What’s a summer, huh? I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll call you every day,” he reasoned with me.
I’ll be thinking about you every day.
You are all that I think about at this moment.
You are the only one that has my heart right now.
You will be my girlfriend.
That’s how I feel.
Love you,
Dario
His card surprised me. Dario and I had gotten intimate fairly quickly and obviously had shared pretty heavy things in our short relationship already, yet he was declaring that I would be his girlfriend. As in future tense. Like when he came back. True, that he had never expressed his feelings for me, but his declaration just fell a bit short.
Dario seemed to sense my indifference for his farewell greeting card because he upped the ante. He pulled me onto his lap and branded my lips with his sensuous kisses.
“This is how I feel about you, Grace. Did you read that?” He pointed to the farewell.
He loved me. Dario loved me. That’s what he was trying to tell me all along. I and only I occupied his thoughts and his heart. I didn’t realize then how easily his thoughts and his heart, even, could be occupied by many others.
That night Dario said goodbye to me with his expert ease. He didn’t expect me to do anything to him. He relished pleasuring me and watching me react to him. When he finally left, I was on a cloud. Dreaming about his return and imagining a very romantic summer, tragically awaiting the return of my lover.
I remained on that cloud for the couple of weeks it took me to realize that Dario wasn’t calling every day as he’d said he would. I reasoned that it must not be so easy for him to get in touch from Argentina. I had heard how he was the son of a diplomat or something, but the Dario I knew hardly had a cent on him, ever, so I figured that he didn’t have a way to communicate with me. Of course, I also didn’t have an idea of what a professional soccer player made in those days or any days, for that matter.
As the hot summer days wore on and my job demanded more and more of me, I became morose and bad humored. Fortunately, there was really no one but my co-workers to see me and I didn’t really develop any relationship with them outside of work. Everyone was home for the summer and Lucian was still spooked, apparently.
I thought our mutual silence was simply pointless and decided I missed my best friend dearly. As much as I was drawn to Dario physically, I was drawn to Lucian emotionally. One fulfilled what the other could not. Besides, Lucian and I had a special bond. A bond that no one around us knew about. In fact, he knew all of my dark secrets. The memory of my recent slip up made my stomach churn and I looked up at the heavens and hoped that God forgave me for what I had done and that my baby was better off with him.
I resisted the urge to call Lucian, anyhow. I didn’t want for him to think that the only place he had in my life was to save me from my chaos, or to make me feel better. I resisted calling him for the rest of the summer. If Lucian didn’t call me, then I certainly wouldn’t budge, either even if it hurt me.
In the meantime, sleeping became a treacherous ordeal. Horrible dreams accosted me in every turn, intermixed with dreams of a wonderful life that was definitely different from the one I had. Lucian was always in those. Dario wasn’t in any of my dreams. Only the shadow of a lost child beckoning me to take him with me.
To finish me off, Dario called at the end of July. He caught me on one of my unusually happy summer afternoons when I was actually feeling well enough to grill some chicken cutlets with Mr. and Mrs. Granada at their place. I took to the habit of visiting them on occasion.
There was an unusual number accompanying my ring tone on my cell phone and I immediately sensed that it was indeed Dario. I picked up excitedly and was pleased to have my hunch confirmed.
“Hey, babe. It’s Dario.” He sounded really far away. The connection was terrible.
“I know, I know,” I said hurriedly.
“Sorry I didn’t call before, babe. I’ve been playing hard.” He explained why he had broken his promise.
“Don’t worry, really. So… how’s it been? Have you enjoyed yourself?” I asked him excitedly.
I kind of hoped that he had been miserable without me, but I knew I had to be pretty far off considering how wonderful and exotic South America appeared to be on my countless internet searches. I had been obsessively doing so since he left. I was also hoping to catch a glimpse of him on his team since he was playing professionally and everything, but it never happened. I did find enough to know that I probably seemed like a prude in his eyes in comparison to the women in his region of the world. They all seemed sensual and striking.
“It’s been okay. It didn’t turn out the way I planned, Grace. They’re expecting a longer commitment from me,” he apologized.
“So, you won’t be coming back.” I didn’t say it as a question. I said it as statement.
“I’m afraid not, babe.” He confirmed my statement. “For now, anyway.”
I didn’t stay on the phone long enough to hear any more of Dario’s excuses. I didn’t want to feel disappointed by him anymore. I hung up and when the number showed up on my cell phone two seconds later I rejected the call.
It had taken him long enough to get in touch with me only to tell me he wouldn’t come back. Why even bother?
“Hey, Mrs. Granada?” I dropped my plate of potato salad on the table.
“What is it, dear?” my ex-neighbor said with concern in her eyes.
“I’m not feeling so well. I think I’m gonna head home.” I excused myself, feeling terrible for letting Dario ruin my afternoon barbecue with the Granadases, but in fact he had ruined my mood. He had ruined my summer. He had ruined my life.
I jetted home in record time and plopped down on my bed with the covers over my head. I turned my bedside lamp off abruptly and forced myself to sleep. I didn’t wake up until the next morning, at which point I stood up groggily to look at myself in the mirror.
There I was. I was still beautiful, I decided. My hair was longer, shinier. My curves were intact. I had kept myself in shape through regular exercise. I still had a great complexion. I had toned down my clothing and make up, but I was still beautiful. I was. So why did I feel so ugly? I removed a wisp of hair from my face
and noticed that I saw myself how I felt inside.
And there was a hint of it in my appearance. My hair might still be shiny and flowing. My skin creamy and soft. My body ripe and curvaceous, but my so-called bedroom eyes had no shine in them. My smile seemed forced when I tried it. I wonder if other people noticed. Lucian would probably tell me the truth. But… he hadn’t gotten in touch with me and I was stubbornly keeping my front, too.
I realized that I had experienced my first heartache. And it wasn’t something easily ignored. I hadn’t only lost my first love. I had lost my first child. I had lost my best friend in the process. I had also almost lost my life—again.
“It’s time for you to accept it, Grace. It was. It is no longer. You experienced your first heartbreak and that was that.” I coached my mirror self.
I searched for my instant therapy everywhere. I hadn’t used it in so long that I didn’t remember where I had placed the expensive leather bound journal Lucian had given me so many nights ago. That was exactly what I needed, to write my void away.
To place all of my heartache and even my transgressions on paper. To transfer them from my soul onto another plane where they could find escape. And so I spent a whole afternoon saying goodbye to my child, to love and friendship thanking the heavens for the comfort a hard true conversation with myself awarded me.
After having purged myself of all sin, as one did in a confessional, my dad came to my mind. Dad. That’s it. I felt an incredible urge to be in a familiar place. To be home. Even if I wasn’t an entirely welcome guest there. Dad would receive me with open arms. Maybe Mom had softened up to me because of my recent accomplishments. I could sure try.
To my surprise, my mother was the first person to greet me at the door when the cab pulled up in front of our five bedroom house in the family oriented town of Carbondale, Illinois. This is where my parents had decided to take residence as soon as they were married. It had all been part of my mother’s very detailed life plan.
Despite the stifling upbringing I had endured, it was good to be home. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the quiet reliability of my childhood neighborhood.
“Well, Grace Elizabeth.” My mom was the only person in the world who called me by my first and second name. “Did you gain a little weight?”
Here we go, I thought. Apparently not a lot had changed. She hadn’t seen me in over three years and her first comment was about my weight. I was in fact about ten pounds lighter than the year I left home, but I wasn’t about to start an argument with her. She of course, was perfect. My mom seemed ageless. Her hair was coifed and her outfit impeccable, even if she was just home.
“Jane will be coming over for dinner along with her husband Patrick. I have to let you know that your niece, Rose, is entirely adorable. You’ll see.” She filled me in on the rest of the itinerary for the week I’d be spending as she carried my bags upstairs. As always, it was filled with activities for every day. I don’t know why, but my mother couldn’t just be. She filled her days with activities and projects. Merely relaxing at home was just not in her vocabulary. I was already exhausted with the anticipation of the schedule. I’d have to see how to dodge all that.
I intended to bask in the familiar, but I quickly found out that my mom had redecorated the whole house during my absence. Radically done so. She did have a knack for that. I hardly felt any trace of me in this house. There were pictures of Jane graduating Grad school. A family portrait of everyone, including Patrick and adorable Rose. I wasn’t in it, of course.
Some portraits of my mom and dad that I remembered from when I was still home, hung on the wall opposite the staircase. There weren’t any of me. Anywhere around. Certainly not the head shots I had sent them from my modeling stint. Modeling was a frivolous activity in my mother’s eyes.
As I climbed the stairs and passed Jane’s room, I was relieved to see that it had remained the same. So I would have my sanctuary after all. But I was mistaken. My room didn’t appear to be my room anymore.
It was now a kid’s room, probably belonging to my adorable niece, Rose, now. Leave it to my mom to think that Rose was hers and that she even needed to decorate a whole room for her at her house. I wondered just how much time Rose spent at our house.
Even though the bed was big enough to fit me, since it was a twin bed, my mother accommodated me in the guest room. I felt a slight ache in my chest. This wasn’t the familiarity I was searching for, but I let it go. I had been gone from home for quite a few years and she had every right to do whatever she wanted with her house.
“Be ready in an hour, Grace,” Mom advised as she settled my suitcase next to the door and shut it behind me. I decided to be congenial and assured her I’d be down as scheduled.
I wondered where my dad was. It was him that I really needed to see. I wouldn’t tell him about my mishap. Even he wouldn’t condone what I did despite his unconditional love and most importantly, he would be devastated if he knew the danger I had been in. I would just bask in the comfort of his presence and his regard for me and try as hard as I could, to recover the innocence I had before through his presence.
I wasn’t disappointed. When I saw him my whole world lit up instantly. My dad had always been a good looking man. He was tall and handsome. He still held on to the same good looks, but I did notice his hair had acquired additional gray streaks that weren’t there before. It made me nostalgic for the time I had spent away.
“Where’s my girl?” I heard his booming voice from the bottom of the stairs as I descended to dinner.
“It’s so great to see you,” I said wholeheartedly, practically running down the stairs.
“It’s even greater to see you, Gracie.” My father stooped a little to grab me in a bear hug. I fell right into my dad.
Our reunion was cut short by my mother’s summons from the dining room.
“Come now, Grace Elizabeth. Everybody’s already here.”
Everybody was there. Everybody that I didn’t know. Only Jane’s face, oh and her husband’s face were familiar. My sister smiled stiffly as I walked in. She didn’t mask the fact that she was studying my attire. Jane was never good at hiding her distaste of any piece of clothing that wasn’t designer wear.
“Hi, Grace,” she said coldly without even attempting to stand up to greet me with a hug which I actually felt and inkling to offer her.
I instantly stood more erect. I was on the defensive immediately.
“Grace Elizabeth, here’s your niece, Rose.” My mom placed a quiet red-haired chubby little three-year-old in my arms, only to retrieve her almost immediately and hand her to her nanny.
“Don’t want her dress getting ruined. She gets a little fussy with strangers.” Punch number two.
“Come now dear.” My mom continued introductions. “This is…”
I zoned out at guest number four. I’m sure they were all great people, but I couldn’t understand for the life of me why they were present at my homecoming dinner if I didn’t know any of them. Whatever happened to Aunt Joanne and the rest of my aunts and uncles?
I made sure I looked the part. My mom wouldn’t forgive me if I wasn’t presentable for the thousand pictures she would take of the evening. She always took the chance to announce every little happening in the local newspaper’s society page and the chance to display a huge happy picture of her prodigal daughter’s return wasn’t something she could pass up easily.
As expected, the table was set perfectly with ivory cloth and fresh flowers. My mother’s best china adorned the table. There were place settings and my mother’s outfit matched the flowers. Guess I’d be out of place in my short maroon dress anyway.
“You look ravishing, dear.” I reveled in my dad’s devotion.
The dinner progressed as expected. I even indulged the guests with reports on my progress in music. They seemed impressed which awarded me with my mother’s first proud glint. Certainly a cellist was good enough for the family even if it had been an unexpected choice of profe
ssion for me and didn’t exactly follow the family line of “trophy wife.” Maybe there was hope for me yet.
The necessary pictures were taken. My mom covered my “too bare” shoulders with a shawl that resembled the tablecloth and the evening was over.
Chapter 10: Visions
Adorable Rose stayed over, as I expected. Mom found some excuse to make Jane leave her there. It was too late. She was too tired. Jane could always come pick her up in the morning. Rose had enough clothes in her room.
I took the chance to get to know Rose during her bedtime. “Where do you wive, Aunt Gwacie?” She was indeed adorable.
“I live in Chicago, Rose,” I answered as I put away the book she had chosen for me to read.
“Can I go visit you, so you can wead me anothe.. stowy?”
I thought about her request and thought how much I would actually love to be in Rose’s life.
“Of course you can, Rose. You’re welcome to visit me any time you want.”
“I’ll tell gwandma to take me,” Rose assured as she drifted off to sleep.
I tucked the warm comforter under her chin and stood carefully so I wouldn’t wake her. I genuinely wanted that to happen very much. If I wasn’t likely to have a relationship with my sister, then I would make sure that I’d have one with my niece. I’d make sure I’d remember her birthdays and important dates from now on.
I closed Rose’s door carefully and turned to go to my room, but I heard voices coming from downstairs. I could’ve sworn that everyone had left already and most surprisingly, I thought I heard Lucian’s voice.
Lucian. I hadn’t heard from him all summer. The experience with Dario had taken all of me. I had nothing left to give, even to Lucian. To make matters worse, I didn’t even get in touch with him to apologize or thank him for saving my life again. Lucian had given me all he had to give as a human being. He was a caring and considerate friend. He was a gentleman. He always took notice of the things that were important to me and he always looked out for my well being. I just hadn’t been prepared for his violent reaction to the whole situation with Dario. Lucian never judged anyone and I needed for him to believe in Dario as much I believed in him.
