by Devyn Dawson
I’m terrible with my poker face. “Yes, a male friend. I met him the other night at the book store.” He doesn’t need to know that he was playing music.
“I’m glad, you should get out more with people your age. How old is he?”
“Twenty-one. We went down to Bricktown yesterday and enjoyed getting to know each other.”
“That’s good. He didn’t try to take advantage of you did he? I hope he was a perfect gentleman.” These moments are far and few between, when we can talk like a father and daughter.
It would be more me taking advantage of him. Dad would shit if I told him I gave up my virginity in tenth grade to Bobby Ward. He was a senior and leaving for college the following fall. He was the first guy who didn’t make fun of me or treat me like shit. He protected me at school all year. I went to prom with him and that night we did the deed. We broke up the week he graduated. His parents didn’t want me around and they didn’t hide that fact whenever I was at their house. Bobby folded under the pressure. It didn’t bother me too bad. It wasn’t as though we were in love or anything. We had sex that one time and I never did it again until the end of my junior year. Sex doesn’t hold the same stigma to me that it does for other people like my dad and other people his age. Right now, I don’t want a relationship based on sex, I want to know him well before I let him between my legs. I wonder if I should tell Tate that tonight. Great, that should be fun.
“Dad, he was a gentleman. We had coffee and talked about going to college. He’s smart and doesn’t act like an idiot. He plays a guitar and offered to show me how.” Wait for it…the freak out should happen any second.
“Guitar lessons, huh? I’ve always wanted to play, that’s cool. Just be careful, guys who’re older tend to want sex. You’re a grown woman, and I can’t keep you from having sex, but be careful. I love you too much to see you with a broken heart, or pregnant at your age.” His voice and demeanor is so calm, I wonder if he found his Ativan.
“Ready for those meds?”
“I guess. Let’s have some coffee and toast together before you run off.”
A normal morning is something I dream of, and I’m actually living it today.
***
Pulling into the long driveway, I see Andy’s car parked by the garage. She loved her Volkswagen Beetle. She kept a fresh flower in the little vase that comes with the car. You never rode in her car without it smelling like flowers. One time Kensie Washington tried to light up a cigarette. She argued that with the top off it was like being outside. Andy offered to pull over on the side of the road for her to smoke.
I’ve rarely had to ring the doorbell to the house. The ding-dong-chime-ding-ding-ding sound gives me chills at the idea of seeing her parents.
Linda answers the door wearing a pair of shorts and one of her golf shirts. Her nose is bright pink from where it was burned.
“Holland! Oh honey, I’m so happy to see you!” She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me so tight all I could feel were her implants pushed into my B-cups. “Come in.”
The foyer is wide, giving you the chance to admire the beautiful imported white marble floors. The staircase is wide at the bottom, but narrows as you reach the top of the stairs. The entrance screams money but in a classy, not over-the-top way. We turn left into the living room. It feels strange being in this room, it was always off limits. The oversized couches are pure white and filled with feathers. Everything in the room is white, from the carpets, the couches, the curtains and most of the pillows. The room is accented in navy blue and brushed nickel fixtures.
“I’m so glad you stopped by. I’ve missed you and Andy. Without her, the house is too quiet. Never mind those depressing thoughts, how are you doing? Is school working out for you?”
I settle into the loveseat hoping I don’t look all hunched over by sitting on the edge. “Yeah, it’s working out. I’m carrying a B in my English and math courses and an A in Economics. It is harder than I expected, school was always easy for me. Finals are next week.”
“You’ve always been good in school, I’m proud of you. Listen, I wanted to have you over for a couple of reasons. One of course is Andy’s clothes. We want you to have everything, her shoes, and jewelry, whatever you want. Don’t worry about me, I’ve taken out the things that I’d like to keep. Like her class ring and the diamond earrings we got her for her sixteenth birthday. There’s another pair of diamond studs, I want you to have them.”
Andy loved her diamonds. She would sit and design the engagement ring she would have one day and swore that if he couldn’t afford it, he wasn’t the guy for her. We’ll never know. “Thank you, that’s so generous. Are you sure you want to part with her things?”
“Yes dear, we know that you’ll put them all to good use. I know, I saw how you girls changed clothes every ten minutes. I have something else I’d like for you to have.” Linda stands up and crosses over to a small table in the corner of the room. She picks up an envelope and hands it to me. “Open it.”
The envelope hasn’t been sealed, just the flap tucked inside. I pull out a cashiers check in the amount of one-hundred thousand dollars made out to me. My heart falls into my stomach. Holy mother of fried chicken! Words escape me, I can’t find anything audible to say.
“Honey that is part of Andy’s college fund. We would like you to have it for college. I remember hearing you say you want to go on to the University of Oklahoma, this will cover your tuition and books.”
Tears, real tears, are falling from my eyes with no control from me. “This is too generous. Put it in your retirement fund.”
“Holland, we have plenty of money for our retirement, this is for you. It would have paid for Andy’s classes. We know you’ll be able to put it to good use and I can’t imagine anyone else more deserving. You were there for Andy during break-ups, for every dance recital, for all the ups and downs, you never turned your back to her. That is the best type of friendship. You deserve everything life has to offer, and I want to make it happen for you. Please, we want this for you.”
Without thinking, I jump up and take her hand, pulling her up to me and I hug her. “Thank you so much,” I whisper barely audible. “You have no idea how happy I am right now. I miss her so much, I…I…I just miss her.” The deep hidden mourning in my heart has found its way to the surface. I cry from happiness and sadness at the same time.
We stood there hugging, both in tears until they no longer were falling.
“I’m sorry to get so emotional, I had a dream about her last night and it has rocked me a little. Thank you, I’ll take it to the bank tomorrow. I promise to use it for school.”
“Let’s go up to her room, I want to hear all about your dream. I love having dreams of her, the hard part is waking up and realizing she’s still gone.” She heads towards the stairs and I follow her up to Andy’s bedroom.
It has been almost eight months since I’ve been in Andy’s room. Eight months since I’ve heard her laugh, or scream, or tell dumb jokes. Eight months since I’ve had to kill a spider for her, or eaten large amounts of bacon. Eight months since I was whole.
The room smells like her. She loved bold perfumes that lasted for hours on end. Her favorite was Glamorous, and her room smells just like it. Her bedroom is over the top old Hollywood style. A large crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the room. Her purple velvet curtains that start close to the ceiling and puddle on the floor are pulled open. The view of their landscaped backyard and salt water pool is amazing. I’ve never seen a bedroom with a giant window that went across the entire wall. When they remodeled the house a few years ago, they had the window installed. Whatever Andy wanted, she got. She wanted a glass wall to look out to the stars at night.
I sit down at her white writer’s desk that she used as a vanity table. She had at least fifty bottles of perfume in perfect rows along the backside of the table. Slowly, I pick up each bottle and smell them. Each of them would evoke a memory of some sort. The blue bottle is the perfume she wore
to our junior prom. We went with a couple of other girls from school. The whole limousine smelled like a perfume factory by the time we got to prom. The pink bottle with the glass rose stopper is the one she would wear on her dates. Guys seemed to really like her perfume.
“I like the green bottle. It makes me think of her dance recital last year,” Linda said. “Take the perfumes, you’ll get more use out of them than I will. There’s empty plastic bins in the closet for you to use.”
“Thank you.” I go over to the closet and pick up one of the smaller bins. It feels strange shopping through someone else’s stuff. A bag full of brand new Bath and Body Works lotions and shower gel reminds me of the huge sale we went to just a week before the accident. She was obsessed with that store. “Do you want these?” I ask.
“No, I’m serious, everything in here is yours. I’ve boxed up all the clothes, it might take you a trip or two with your car to pick them up. I labeled them though, so you can take all the summer and fall stuff now. Just take her jewelry box, it was a gift to her from a family friend.”
As I go through her things and pack them up, I tell her about my dreams. She’s had a lot of dreams too. It was nice talking to someone who knew her like I did. Andy wasn’t perfect, but she was as close as you can get. Of course she acted spoiled every once in a while, it only took a gentle reminder that she was being a bitch and she’d stop.
Linda and I laughed at the pictures of us that are on her bulletin board. I have copies of most of those pictures so I insisted she keep them.
“Holland, you’re a part of my family. If you need anything, and I mean anything, please ask. We would love to have you over for dinner. Maybe when you and Tate date a little longer, you can have him over with you. I know how tough things are with your dad. Are you still boycotting boys from meeting your dad?”
“Are you kidding? I can’t imagine any guy meeting my father. Especially someone like Tate. My dad will freak out when he finds out that he’s in the Air Force.” I laugh it off and shake my head back and forth. “You know he hates military guys.”
She draws in a deep breath before answering. “Oh I remember you telling me about his military fixation. Bring him here, we’ll be your fill in parents. I love you like a daughter.”
“Thank you. Your family has always been so kind to me. If Tate works out, I’ll be sure to bring him over. He and I have to date a month before I’ll consider it though.” We laugh at the month mention. Andy was a stickler about her rules and boys. We weren’t allowed to tell the parents or anyone else that they were a boyfriend until a month passed. Most relationships don’t last a month so we find it a good rule to live by. We FOUND it. I remind myself that she’s no longer here. No longer in the present tense. Forever and always, she’ll be past tense.
We carry the boxes downstairs and load up my car. Our goodbye is easier than I expected, I think to myself as I drive away.
***
Chapter Five. Sweet Dreams
Going through Andy’s clothes wasn’t as depressing as I thought it would be. If I’m honest with myself, it brought back so many happy memories. It didn’t take long for me to find the perfect outfit for tonight. It’s classy enough for such a fancy restaurant. Cadiddlehopper’s is the nicest place to eat in Midwest City, the neighboring town to Del City and the town Tinker AFB is located. One of the gates to get on base, and closest to the dorms is two blocks away from where I live. Tate is only two blocks away!
***
Dad was asleep on the couch when I got back from hanging out with Bethany. I ran to my room to get ready for my date before he wakes up. It takes me less than thirty minutes to get ready, thanks to picking out my outfit earlier today. I grab my purse, a fancy designer one that was in the box of Andy’s things, and I go out to the living room. He’s awake but he’s pacing the floor. This isn’t a good sign.
“Hi Dad, are you ready for dinner? I picked up a nice and greasy burger and fries for you. I’ll heat them up.” I barely say the words before he’s standing in front of me. I take a deep breath and brace myself for the next ten minutes of my life.
“Who is he?” Dad demands. Paranoia.
“What are you talking about?” I keep my words steady, knowing he’s on the edge of freaking out.
“You know damn well who I’m talking about!” Spittle flings from his mouth as he screams in my face. Anger. He grabs me by the arms and pushes me against the wall. “You’ve been sneaking around seeing him. Who is he?” Hatred.
“Daddy, stop, you’re hurting me.” The tears are threatening to come but I refuse to give in to them. He’s just having one of his spells. “I met Tate this weekend. We’re going to dinner and a movie, nothing else.”
He squeezes my arms and give me an extra shove before letting go. “I’m not allowing you to get married until you’re twenty-five. If he comes to ask for your hand, I’m saying no.” He growls out every single word. Hostility.
I throw my arms around him, pulling him to me in a hug. “Daddy, it is just a date, not a proposal. I just met him, I promise. If he asks for my hand, please say no, because I’m not getting married, ever.” His body is shaking in my embrace so I hold on to him for a little longer, until he relaxes in my arms.
“You promise?” Remorse.
“Pinky swear,” I hold up my pinky and he takes it with him hooking them together. His shoulders relax and his troubled mind settles down.
The restaurant is five minutes away from the house. There’s no such thing as traffic in town on the weekends. Weekdays are different though, especially when it’s shift change on the base. There’s not any large businesses around other than the big box stores and seven hundred pawn shops. The rumors are that when airmen run out of money, they pawn off their video game consoles. The building isn’t fancy, but it doesn’t matter, it houses a Food Network award winning chef William Roloff. Rumor has it if you return a dinner to the kitchen, Chef Roloff will throw a tantrum and cuss like a sailor. The chef will take it out to you and wait for you take a bite. I’ve had dinner here once, it was before homecoming. Everything I don’t cook tastes good to me.
I try to think of anything but the outburst from my Dad or it will show all over my face. It has been so nice for him to be semi-normal and then his illness makes an appearance to remind me that he’s not normal.
I’m wearing a pair of heels that are higher than I normally pick to wear. I figure I can’t break my neck walking in them if I’m sitting in a movie theater. My white skirt is short and tight, maybe too tight for a second date but it looks so cute with the silver sequin tank top I picked. When Andy bought it last summer, I looked at her like she was crazy. The top was almost two hundred dollars and the shoes were three hundred. The skirt was on clearance for five dollars.
Tate walks over to my car and holds the door open for me as I get out. His eyes go straight to my legs and back up to my face.
“I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve proven me wrong. In a good way, of course,” Tate says appreciatively.
“Oh yeah? What did I prove?”
“You were so pretty yesterday, but today, you’re exquisite,” he leans over and whispers in my ear. I’m not sure how, but the whole whispering thing he does, makes everything sound so much better.
I blush at my reaction and whisper thank you back to him.
The décor is simple and elegant. No booths, just tables with white tablecloths and linen napkins. It’s the first place I’ve ever been that didn’t have a children’s menu and chicken bites. Andy always said when in doubt, order the meal listed above the one my date orders. I tried that theory once, I ended up with hives and realized I’m allergic to oysters. If I weren’t afraid of kissing him, I’d order shrimp. Nothing says sexy like rotten seafood breath. Sounds like I’ll be a true Okie and order a steak and salad.
“How was your day?” Tate asks and takes a sip of his ice water.
“For the most part, it was good. What did you do today?”
“I went o
ver to Don and Tracy’s and helped him build his back patio. He’s been building a fire-pit area and extending his deck for a hot tub he’s having installed next week. They’re pretty funny when they’ve spent too much time together. Most couples argue or go crazy, not them, they play practical jokes on each other. If Don can’t find anything to do, he will find a random bug and chase her around making her scream profanities.” Tate has a freckle over his eyebrow that gets lost when his forehead wrinkles. I’m sitting at dinner with the most beautiful person in the room and I’m paying attention to his freckle. Not his piercing eyes, or even his bright white teeth. No, silly me, is watching his freckle. “What are you thinking?” Tate asks.
“Don’t make me answer that question, please.” I give my pleading face but he just shakes his head.
“Spit it out.”
“Ugh. I was admiring your freckle over your eyebrow.”
“My freckle put that sweet look on your face? You’re easy to impress. Wait until you see my birthmark.” His eyebrow arches and I’m at a loss for words.
My hand goes to my mouth to hide my grin. “Birthmark huh? Where is it?”
“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you go exploring and find it yourself.”
My thoughts are written all over my face. I know it. I don’t have to guess how many shades of red I’ve turned. I know. “Good?”
“Beyond good,” he whispers.
Shit. He’s killing me.
The waiter comes over to take our order, we both order steak. I don’t know the difference in the cut of a steak so I picked the cheapest one. Tate didn’t, he ordered the most expensive steak that wasn’t surf and turf.
“Tell me about Oregon, do you have a large family?” I ask, unable to shake the birthmark comment and how it has me distracted.
“My family is pretty small. I grew up on my grandparent’s farm. My grandfather had a massive heart attack when I was eight. We were fishing in the pond, I tried to revive him and we were so far out, it took the rescue crews over twenty minutes to arrive. There wasn’t anything they could do for him. My grandma is a strong business woman. She has made the farm very successful, especially now that everyone is going natural. Our chickens are free range, which is funny to me since they’ve always been that way. Many farmers have had to make accommodations to be USDA Organic Certified, we already had those practices in place. We run our own Farmer’s Market on the property. People travel as far as fifty miles to get our produce and meat. Grandma was upset with me for joining the military because she expected me to take over the business and she could retire.” Tate pauses for a minute before finishing his story. “I told her I didn’t want to take over until I’m in my thirties. If I had taken over, I wouldn’t have had the time to do my music and I’d be stuck doing farm chores for the rest of my life.”
