by Jo Michaels
There was another driveway about fifty feet up the road on the opposite side, covered with a lush growth of leafy branches that would hide her car, so she gunned the accelerator and pulled up far enough to avoid being seen. Once sure no one had followed or seen her, she shut off the engine and curled into herself, letting the tears loose. She cried, she screamed, and she beat the steering wheel with her palms until they hurt.
It was dusk when she finally felt okay enough to drive, and she went home. When she pulled into the complex parking lot, she spied Tristan’s truck in one of the spots. Her heart broke again. No way could she stand to see him at that moment. She kept driving, at first aimlessly, and then to Lilian’s house.
Simone pressed the button to gain entry, and by the time she got up to the house, Lilian was standing in the driveway, her hands on her hips, a scowl on her beautiful face.
“What the hell happened?” she asked, opening the car door.
“Something I didn’t think possible.” Simone threw herself into her friend’s arms and sobbed. “He actually cheated on me. Knowing how it feels, whining to me about how many times it’s happened to him, and he did it anyway.”
“Oh no! I look like I’ve been crying all night!” Simone leaned toward the mirror and groaned.
“That’s because you were. If I knew that guy…” Lilian punched one palm with the opposite fist, her eyes narrowed to slits. “You so deserve better.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You’ve been saying that all night. What don’t you get? He’s a guy, you two haven’t had sex, and he did what guys do.”
“But it’s not typical behavior for someone who’s had those things done to them, right?” Any excuse Simone’s brain could come up with was firing out of her mouth. If she wasn’t completely dry, she would’ve started crying again.
“I’m not sure, sweetie. Here.”
She took the gel mask, went back to the bedroom, lay down, and placed it over her face, letting out a sigh as the magic began its work.
“I’ll leave you alone for a little while. I need to get ready for class anyway. Last mid-term. Ugh. I feel like I’ve been studying forever.”
“Okay. Thanks for everything, Lilian. Not sure what I would’ve done without you.”
“No problem.”
The door clicked shut, and Simone closed her eyes, trying to relax and think more about the day ahead than the night before. What would happen with the doctor was of particular interest.
When she entered the room, she found Mrs. Shandy standing at the window, looking out over the pasture behind the nursing home. She turned, grinned, and waved a hand to beckon Simone in.
“How are you feeling today?” she asked.
“You know, it’s odd. A week ago, I was sure I wasn’t going to make it. I suddenly feel like I’m fifty again.”
“That’s amazing!” Thrills raced up her spine, and she patted the couch, plopping down and pulling the book out. “Are you ready to finish this story?”
“I am. I need to know if Griffin ends up with Dolly and what happens to this Articus kid.”
Simone chuckled; she wanted to know, too.
At the end of the story, both women were left with their jaws hanging open and tears in their eyes.
Mrs. Shandy dabbed at hers with a tissue and then blew her nose. “That was such a good story. Everything doesn’t always turn out the way you want it, does it?”
“No, but that was a shocker.”
“Sweetie, as you live, you’ll find that many things don’t end up the way we think they should, but sometimes, you have to look deeper to find the real reason something happens. Perhaps it’s fate, and perhaps it’s something bigger, but you never know until you try, learn, live, and forgive. Always strive to be the best you possible, and good things will happen.” Mrs. Shandy patted Simone’s hand. “Look at me. I lived my life loving everyone and doing my best by them. I was at Death’s door, and someone sent me you.”
“What do you mean?” Surely there was no tell. She’d only been reading. Scanning her memories of the previous few days, her hands shook as she ran them through her hair, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. If anyone else found out what the book could do, bad things would happen.
“I think you know, dear.”
Heat raced to her cheeks.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”
A knock on the door interrupted their moment, and the women looked up.
Doctor Harrington stepped in, his face pale and lips trembling. “Ms. Shandy? May I have a moment to speak with you in private?” He looked at Simone and lifted his eyebrows.
“Sure. I was getting ready to leave, anyway.” She turned and threw her arms around the elderly woman, squeezing gently. “Thank you for letting me read to you. I had fun, and I’m glad you enjoyed the story.”
“Of course. You come on back anytime, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Simone let go and left. As she was closing the door, she heard the doctor.
“Ms. Shandy, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’ve been cur—”
With a smile on her face, and a new spring in her step, she bounced out the front doors to her car. When her hand touched the metal of the door handle, her awesome mood was soured by thoughts of Tristan. She worried he’d still be waiting at her house. Deciding to focus on the good, she inhaled and exhaled to cleanse her mind, opened the door, and got in.
Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in the parking lot of the complex, staring at his truck. Damn him for caring. She grabbed her bag and headed for the apartment. When she opened the door, Tristan met her.
“Please, Simone. It’s not what you think. Can I have a minute to explain?”
Rather than allow him the chance to lie, she glowered and held up a hand. “No. I’ve spent the last week stressed out of my mind as I worked to prove the book actually did what I thought. Yesterday, I wanted to see and hang out with my boyfriend for a little while. No rushing to work after my reading. But that wasn’t what I got. Instead, I found you with a half-naked woman, drunk out of her mind, passed out on your couch, wearing next to nothing. My heart broke yesterday, Tristan. Broke. Shattered. Like fine china slammed into pavement. So, no, you can’t ‘explain’ anything to me. Just leave.”
“You’ve been doing what?” His face was red, and his hands formed fists.
Simone jerked the book out of her bag and waved it around. “This! Y’all had me convinced I was crazy! I had to know if it really worked, so I went to an old-folks’ home and used it on a woman there.”
“You told me you had to work. You lied?”
Truth slammed into her like an eighteen-wheeler, and she shrank back against the door. There she stood, accusing him of doing the same thing she had. “Yeah, I did. I didn’t want you, or my freaking mother, breathing down my neck or trying to stop me from doing what I needed to.” Exhaustion squirmed up her legs and threatened to take her down. She felt her eyelids droop. “I had to prove it to myself first.”
Still red, and bordering on purple, Tristan came closer, their noses nearly touching. “You lied to me.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I needed to know. Besides, it looked like you weren’t missing me much.” Indignation rose in her like a hurricane, and words flew from her mouth. “You cheated on me. After all the things that have been done to you, and you go and do the exact same thing to me. Knowing how much it hurts. Knowing what it does to a relationship. Did you not care about me at all?”
“Oh, now you want answers? Fine. That woman is my sister. She’s a mess. You saw photographs of her in the house when you visited, though they were old. We haven’t seen her in a couple of years. She’s been traveling the world with her agency, doing shoots. She called two nights ago and had my parents pick her up from the airport. Ever since, she’s been wasted and lying on the couch. I never lied to you, Simone. I left out an embarrassing part of my life that I intended to share with you later. I certainly didn’t want
you to meet her while she was fucked up! You think I’m proud to have a sister like that? Are you proud to have a father like yours? Huh? No.” He was breathing hard, and little drops of spit kept flying out of his mouth.
Those words cut through Simone like a katana, but she had her retort ready. “No, but I told you about my father.”
“Only because you were spinning your woe-is-me tale about your mother and your lack of a dating life!”
Tears tumbled out of her, and she collapsed to her knees, burying her face in her hands. Just like everything else in her life, she screwed up the best relationship she’d ever had. It seemed that no matter what she touched, it would all turn to shit.
In a moment, he was kneeling in front of her, his hands gentle on her forearms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighed. “Look, there are a lot of things I can forgive, but lying to me isn’t one of them. You told me yourself, that book takes your years away. Do you really think I want to face the thought of losing you every day or ending up dating an old woman?”
She shook her head, tears changing to full-on sobs. Words were barely manageable between bursts. “I… I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you. I ju… I thought you’d try to stop me.” Her head lifted of its own accord, and she stared into his eyes with a silent plea of understanding.
“Of course I would’ve! I didn’t want to lose you! You don’t have to prove anything to me, Simone. I loved you no matter what you were going through.”
It seared into her brain that he used the past tense of the words.
“But you… You don’t now?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. I’m angry. There’s no way I can do this again.” Tristan rocked back, releasing her arms, running his hand through his hair.
“Does this mean we’re over?”
He stood and gave her a curt nod. “If I have to answer you right this moment? Yes. Lying is where I draw the line. If you can lie to me about this, you can lie to me about anything.” His feet moved toward the door.
“Tristan! Please!” Without thinking, she scrambled after him on all fours and clutched his pant leg. “Please! Don’t leave me.”
A firm shake of his foot dislodged her, and he opened the door, stepping out. “I’m sorry, Simone. It wasn’t meant to be.”
When the latch caught, her heart stopped, and she crumpled, curling her body into a fetal position to keep her insides where they belonged. All she could do was whisper into the dark, “He left me.” That was the phrase repeated, over and over, until her eyelids slammed closed.
Tristan didn’t call, text, or return.
For a solid week, Simone sat in an oversized chair and stared out the window, drinking coffee, running her hands over the spine of the book, and rubbing the paper of the pages between her fingers. All she could feel was the giant hole ripped through her at his betrayal. He knew what she’d been through, and the things he’d said before he left guaranteed he wouldn’t be returning.
Yvette had given up trying to make conversation after a screaming incident. She’d go to work, come home, make dinner, put the full plate down, pick it up later to store in the fridge, and then go to bed. One weeknight, she broke.
Rather than her usual routine, she came in with a wrapped package and sat down across from Simone, putting the gift in her lap. “Simone? Honey? I got you something. I hope it helps you move on,” Yvette whispered. Then, she patted her daughter’s hand, got up, and walked back out the door.
Simone hadn’t even registered the exchange, but when she got up to get more coffee later, the present slipped to the floor. She stared at it, wondering where it had come from, but then the fuzzy memory came into better focus. After putting the book and her cup on the coffee table, she picked up the gift, unwrapped the pretty blue paper, and gasped. It was a smartphone.
Her hands trembled as she opened the box and turned the device on. It flashed a new number on the screen, and her heart did a flip. If Tristan didn’t know how to get in touch with her, he’d never call. For a split second, she wavered on texting him, but then she remembered how angry he’d been, and the things she’d said to him, and him walking out the door without looking back. She retrieved her old device from between the cushion of the chair and the side, walked to the kitchen, and drowned the dumbphone in the sink.
There would be no contacting him. It was time for her to put her big-girl panties on and move forward with her life.
A shower was the first step. She smelled awful.
Once she was clean, she reheated a wrapped plate of food, ate, and then considered what she was going to do next. Her job was gone—she hadn’t shown up for a long time and had refused to answer their calls, she had no boyfriend or parent to hang out with, and she’d drowned the only number she had for Lilian.
So, rather than sit and think about it, Simone grabbed the remote and settled on the couch.
Yvette’s voice on the other side of the door interrupted the show. “You can’t. My daughter is here, and I’m not ready for you to meet her yet.”
It was reasonable and a better excuse than saying her daughter wasn’t functioning like a human and it would be detrimental for anyone to meet her in that state.
Simone chuckled. “Way to go, Mom.”
A deep voice said, “I don’t have to meet her tonight, and I can be out of here before the sun is up tomorrow.”
“It’s simply not a good time. Maybe in a few more weeks, okay?”
There was silence for a few minutes, and then the door opened, and Yvette stumbled through, giggling, her face red.
“Hey, Mom.”
She started and straightened. “Oh! Honey! Are you feeling better?”
“Yep. I ate, too. That dinner from last night was delicious. Thanks for saving it.” Simone grinned. “Thanks for this.” She waved the phone in the air. “It was exactly what I needed.”
“I’m so glad.” Yvette hiccupped and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Another twitter of a laugh followed.
“Were you on a date?”
“I was.”
“With that company guy?”
“Yes. And now, I’m going to bed.” She crossed the room, kissed her daughter on the forehead, and swayed down the hall, one hand on the sheetrock. “Goodnight. I love you, sweetheart!”
“Love you, too, Mom.” A yawn escaped, and Simone hit the button to turn off the TV before gathering her things and going to lie in a proper bed for a change. Sleeping in the chair had given her an awful crick in her neck. When her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.
Another week later marked the day of Lilian’s birthday party. Simone put on her best dress—which was a little looser from all the days spent not eating—and applied heavy makeup to hide the new wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. When she emerged from the bathroom, her mother whistled.
“Lookin’ good! Maybe you’ll find a new guy at this party, and you’ll be able to forget about the other one.”
They hadn’t said Tristan’s name since the night he left, but that didn’t mean Simone had forgotten him. He was the one she wanted, and she knew it would take a long time for her heart to completely heal. No way could another man get in there right then. Rather than fight about it, or even mention it, for fear of dismissing the gag order somehow, she agreed and smiled.
Backpack in tow, she got in the car, shot a quick text to Lilian, grateful she’d shown up a few days prior, demanding to know why she hadn’t gotten a return text in a couple of days, and headed toward her house. It wasn’t long until Simone was breezing up the driveway. Several cars were already there, and she glanced around to be sure his wasn’t one of them before getting out.
She was rewarded with a tackle-hug from Lilian. When she finally let go, she snatched the gift out of Simone’s hands and squealed. “You didn’t have to do this! But thank you! I love it!”
“You didn’t even open it.”
“I don’t have to. I love it no matter what it is.” Lilian’s smile was contagiou
s. “You look amazing, by the way! Come on! I want you to meet everyone.” After bouncing and clapping, she grabbed Simone’s forearm and dragged her toward the back of the house.
Bass was thumping from invisible speakers, and a double handful of people milled around the pool, drinks and food in hand. There were so many introduced in a short time, Simone knew she’d forget half their names, but she played along.
It was no time until she found herself in a usual situation: Everyone chatting, laughing, and hanging out while she sat in a chair, alone, sipping punch. After everything that had happened with Tristan, she really didn’t feel very social. A few of the guys at the party were cute, sure, but she wasn’t interested—and wasn’t sure she ever would be again. Before she could change her mind, she got up, said goodbye, pried herself free of Lilian’s begging-you-to-stay grip, and headed for the car.
At the gate, Simone bumped into someone and apologized without looking up from her bag search. She knew those keys were in there somewhere.
“Simone?”
That deep, rich timbre was instantly recognizable, and she grew roots as it assaulted her eardrums. But she didn’t dare turn around.
“Simone.”
She forced her feet to move, never looking back. It was over. He’d said so, left, and never called. There was nothing she owed him, but she couldn’t look in his eyes. That could only cause pain. He might have been done with her, but her heart wasn’t over him. Sucking in air, she held on to it to prevent the tears threatening to ruin her makeup.
Just before she reached the car, a firm hand caught her elbow, pulling her to a stop. “Simone, please? Can I talk to you for a minute? You’re always running away from me!”
That spurred her to spin and jerk her arm loose. “Me, running away from you? That’s positively comedic! I’m not the one who left and didn’t call!” Anger replaced misery, and she pulled her shoulders back.
