by Suzie Carr
“Oh, yes, I bet. I always feel dehydrated first thing in the morning, too.” She poked her egg yolk with the tip of the spatula. “It’s a beautiful morning out there, isn’t it?” She said this like a diner cook, poking and prodding the eggs while carrying on filler dialogue with a customer.
“Sure is. You missed a good one.”
She flicked her eggs onto a plate, dug out a fork from the drawer and then said, “Would you mind cleaning up for me?”
“Of course not.”
“Good, I’m in a rush. I’m going to eat these on the run.” She rushed out of the kitchen. “Have a great day.”
She pounced away from me so I had to yell back, “You, too.”
A few minutes later, after I swallowed the last bite of eggs, Adam walked into the kitchen with his hair in its usual fun flips, wearing his button-down shirt tucked haphazardly into his khakis as if he dressed in the dark. “Hey,” he nodded to me on his way to the coffee pot.
“Hey,” I nodded back.
He poured coffee into a travel mug, then he kicked his head back and clicked his tongue. “Damn it. I forgot to ask Lucy to drop off my shirts.” He dashed around the counter. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go and wake her up.”
“She already left.”
His mouth flew open to speak, but he seemed to trip over his thoughts. “Huh. That’s right. See, that’s how much my brain isn’t working this morning.” His eyebrows furrowed.
I chuckled along with him for a few seconds to aid him with transitioning back into nonchalant Adam.
“Eh, the drycleaners is on my way anyway.” He poured some creamer into his coffee. His face softened back to cool and collected. “I have to say, I really hate going to work.”
“Is it really that bad?” I asked, rhetorically, still caught up on how he didn’t know that Lucy had already gotten up, showered and gone off to campus.
He stirred sugar into the coffee and looked up at me with strained eyes. “I’ll be sitting in back to back meetings all day with a bunch of super-hyped engineers talking about loads and capacities and shit like that.”
“Sounds better than what I’ll be doing. I’ve got a stack of analysis reports to deal with and not to mention meetings with a bunch of knuckleheads who talk in acronyms.” I climbed off the stool and headed to the sink with my plate. “So, I hear you.”
“It’s such a rat race. I can’t wait until I’m out of it.”
“When you’ve got an escape plan, fill me in.” I doused my plate in suds and scrubbed it clean. “How’s your next book coming along, anyway?”
He rolled his eyes and sighed like a man carrying the burden of ten kids and a pregnant wife. “I hit a snag and it’s frustrating me. I just wish I could quit my job and focus solely on writing. It’d quicken the process and get me and Lucy on the road to freedom a lot sooner. At this rate, I’ll be lucky to get out of this situation in five years.”
“So where’s this road to freedom headed?”
“Somewhere far removed from here, that’s for sure. This chaos is crushing my creativity. I picture a small house on top of a mountain maybe somewhere in the Carolinas.”
Lucy would fizzle up and die in such an environment. “Huh, I didn’t picture Lucy to be the reclusive type.” I imagined her balled up on a couch, hugging her knees to her lonely heart, crying, aching from no contact other than the small amounts Adam might offer her in between scenes.
He looped his strap over his shoulder and with a broad smile said, “It’s our dream.”
This guy might’ve been adorable, but he was so idealistic and clueless. I just shrugged.
“Once sales pick up, it’ll happen. I’m hoping soon. I have my first one for sale on Sloot. I’ve already earned ten sales this month.”
“Ten. Wow.” I tried my best to sound impressed.
“It’s a start. I’m optimistic.”
I really hoped his writing sucked for Lucy’s sake. “I still want to check it out.”
The boyish grin returned. “That’d be awesome.” He stood for a moment tapping his finger to his shoulder strap as if waiting on words to arrive. “Remind me to get you a copy.” Then he walked away just as his girlfriend did, with a pounce and a yell back over his shoulder to have a great day.
~
That day at work, I received an email from Reina with a link to a dating site. “I’m still working on getting you a hot date. Until then, check this out.”
I clicked and entered a site where women with gleaming smiles encouraged me to click on their profiles and learn how they might turn my world upside down. Candidate after candidate droned on about how they enjoyed romantic walks on the beach, long afternoon naps, and sushi on the waterfront. Not one of them mentioned how much they enjoyed training for a 10K, breaking out into yoga poses or swaying her hips in unison with another to a sexy Salsa beat.
I clicked off that site and decided to punish myself further by stalking Ryan’s Facebook again to see if he left any more posts about righteousness or if he and his new best friends were planning a vacation together. What I read affected me far worse.
Apparently, Ryan opened his own photography studio? Ryan Albert Studios already had four hundred fans? He already rolled out two weddings and the Heritage Festival? How did all of this happen already? And why was PJ commenting on his album of dog portraits, telling him how happy she was for him and that he better gear up his camera for the baby’s arrival?
This set me off.
The rest of the day sucked. My boss threw data entry project on top of data entry project at me and expected me to finish them all by four o’clock that afternoon. Monica, the loud-mouthed bitch in the cube next to me, slurped her yogurt extra loudly, then turned to a bag of extra crispy potato chips to ease her tension from her crazy workload. On top of that when I got home at seven o’clock that night after getting stuck in a five mile backup and having to pee like no one’s business, I walked in on Lucy curled up on Adam’s lap doting on him with a deep, longing kiss. Hana appeared in the living room doorway at the same time and of course she pecked like an annoying finch, scrambling to get away. Did the girl not have any social life outside these grand walls? Sweet only got a person so far. After too long, that sweet innocence was bound to aggravate the shit out of someone.
I cleared my throat and Lucy finally came up for air and offered me pity in the way of her crooked smile. “Hey you,” she said, her hand still cradling the back of Adam’s giraffe neck. He looked stoned with his eyes half shut and bloodshot.
I stood there with no right to be jealous. “Sorry.” I raised up my hand and then scooted by them. “I don’t mean to interrupt.”
Not even a polite ‘Oh don’t worry about anything. You’re not interrupting.’ Nope, Just a long silent span of time as I thumped my shoeless feet across the floor. I climbed the steps with gusto, beating the rotten day out of me. And, when I finally got to my room, I slammed the door and felt great about that.
Just about the time I tied the string to my sweatpants and knotted my hair in a ponytail, someone knocked on my door. “Can I come in?” Lucy called out to me.
I didn’t want to see her at that moment. “I’m really tired. Do you mind if we just catch up tomorrow on our run?”
“Are you okay?”
I just wanted to be left alone.
“Hope? Please open the door.”
I resigned and opened it. “Come in.” I flagged her in.
She ran her finger down my cheek. “You look really stressed.”
I leaned into her touch. “It’s just been one of those days. One thing after the other just pissed me off and,” I shook my head, and her finger fell. “I just want to go to sleep and wake up and forget the whole thing.”
Her eyes penetrated me. “I’m a good listener.” She swooped in and cradled my arm.
I melted into her caress. “It’s just work stuff. Annoying Betty was at it again today with her snacking. Bill expected twenty hours of work to be crammed into
five hours. You know the deal there. Just…” I blew out some air, “just a crazy day.”
I honed in on the work problems instead of shedding light on how terrible I felt about my crappy life, and on the jealous rage brewing in me after seeing her loving up to Adam. All of it just reminded me how pathetic I was to even think of her in any other capacity than Adam’s girlfriend. What did I expect? To gut my husband, walk away, steal someone away from another great guy, fall in love with her and live happily ever after? Grit doesn’t just wash away in one rainstorm. It took years of torrential storms pelting the layers over and over again before it would disappear far enough away from the spot where all hell originally broke loose. By the time that happened, Ryan would be a grandfather, toting a head full of gray hair and digging into his retirement funds.
“Want to go run now?” Lucy asked.
Her hand still embraced my arm, and I couldn’t breathe when she pulled me in to her space, even if it was just an inch or two. “It’s really dark out there.”
“So, we’ll wear reflective vests. I’ve got a couple.”
And just like always, I couldn’t resist. The grit temporarily relinquished its coating on the ground under my feet. “That might be just what I need.”
Two miles into our run Lucy filled me in on something that made me kind of happy. She said Adam was feeling sorry for himself when she got home from class, and had gotten drunk. He was upstairs at his laptop crying, carrying on about how his dream wasn’t coming true the way he planned. He had sold only ten copies of his book that month. “He cried like someone died, like someone told him he had a month left to live. It was terrible. I brought him downstairs and got him some water to sober a little. He just blabbered on about how he needs to sell a thousand books a month to make enough to live our dream. Sometimes he just drives me crazy with all this book writing nonsense.”
“He looked pretty banged up.”
She glanced at me, keeping her pace still. “Can I tell you a secret?”
My blood pressure spiked at the mention. “Of course.”
“I sank when you caught me kissing him.”
I stopped, no longer able to draw a clear breath. “Why?”
She offered me a coy smile, and then turned serious. “I feel crowded by his pointless dreams. Like, I’ll never be able to move forward because he’ll never be satisfied. Even if he sold one thousand books, he’ll say he needs two thousand. I don’t know what to do for him. So, I kissed him to shut him up.”
“Seemed to work.”
“For now.”
We stood in the shadows of the streetlight, the perfect romantic backdrop. She worried about her boyfriend, and I wondered what she’d do if I just pulled her into my arms and started making out with her right then and there.
“It is really dark out here,” she said, peeking up above our heads at the Orion belt.
I moved in closer this time, mesmerized by how her hair still shone even in the dark. “It sure is.”
She looked away from the starry sky and into my eyes. “We should probably head back and make sure Adam’s okay.”
“Do you always do that?”
“Do what?” she asked.
“Put yourself aside for him?”
She snapped out of her dreamy state and stood taller. A thousand arguments spilled across her face. Her mouth opened, her eyes flashed, and her body tensed with the weight of bottled up frustrations.
“Say what’s on your mind,” I pleaded with her.
She trembled, now hugging her chest, cautioning me not to push her.
“Yell at me. Do something. Don’t just stand there and take shit from me if you don’t want to.”
Big tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why don’t you just mind your own business,” she said so low I hardly heard her.
I watched her shaking, bellowing air in and out. I pulled her in for a hug, wanting to be the savior for once instead of the bad one. “Didn’t that feel good?”
She sniffled and murmured into my shoulder. Then, she backed up and met my gaze. “I don’t do this. This whole confrontational thing. It always makes me feel uncomfortable and ungrateful.” She tilted her head back, caught sight of the stars again, and then landed back on me. This time the sparkle returned to her eyes and a small smile lifted her cheeks just so. “But with you it feels kind of refreshing. It feels real.”
I exhaled. “That’s how it should feel.”
She leaned on her side, relaxed. “I could learn a lot from you.”
I put an arm around her shoulder and led us back towards the house. “Yeah, I’m probably not the best role model in the world. But, I can take a blow every now and then to help out a friend.”
She leaned her head into my shoulder and allowed me to comfort her. “Well, I appreciate it, my friend.”
Our friendship label served to free us to enjoy the comfort of being so close. We walked the rest of the way, her allowing my arm to cradle her shoulder, lost in our own thoughts. I’d never been so profoundly comfortable with silence before.
LUCY
My sister, Julie, stood in front of me with her Coach bag dangling from her forearm wearing a pretty Ann Taylor dress. Her freshly highlighted hair bounced off her shoulders, keeping equal pace with her heiress vibe. “Andrew is getting another promotion. Can you believe that?”
I continued gathering my keys, my wallet, grinding my teeth, dreading the next two hours of hell that sprawled like a battleground of landmines in front of me. “Great for him.” I walked past her and her Estee Lauder perfume. “I’ll be just a second. I need to use the bathroom.”
“Is Ralph home? I need to pick his brain about kettle bell.”
“He’s in the basement working out.” I scurried into the bathroom and closed the door, nesting in five minutes of safety until I had to face her again.
I sat on the edge of the sink and fiddled with a reply text to my niece who had asked me if she could come up for the weekend and hang with me. I asked her what she did about the bully at school. She said nothing. I asked her to elaborate. She said I haven’t been back. I saw this and immediately headed to my sister. I marched towards the basement where I could hear her flirting with Ralph. She was swinging a kettle bell between her skirted legs.
“Oh hey,” she said rising up, her texturized layers following in perfect order. “I might have to steal this guy from you all.”
Ralph rolled his eyes at me. “It’s a basic move, Julie. Just search for it on YouTube.” He walked away and back up the stairs.
Julie placed the kettle bell at her feet. “That Ralph is such a flirt.” She pranced up the stairs after him.
I picked up the kettle bell and put it back where it belonged before one of us broke our necks over it.
I’d deal with her later when she wasn’t tramping over Ralph.
Later, as the two of us posed in front of a photographer for a birthday gift to our mother, I thought about how to bring up this issue with my niece without stirring up a firestorm. The photographer was changing his lens when I finally said, “How’s Angie?”
She rolled her eyes. “She’s a typical teenager, that’s how she is. She doesn’t listen, doesn’t talk, and doesn’t eat half her meals.”
“Why don’t you let her come up for a weekend? I can talk with her and see what’s going on.”
She laughed and bucked her head back like I told her I wanted to be a rocket scientist now. “She’s so different. She’s way past pleasing with a milkshake and coloring.”
“I know that. She talks to me.”
She flicked her pale eyes. “Don’t let her fool you. She tells you what she thinks you want to hear. That’s how teens are.”
“She told me she hasn’t been to school in a while.”
Her face whitened. Her jaw clenched. Her hands tightened into fists. Then, she masked this by sprouting her usual wry smile. “She’s playing you.” Her cheeks stretched out way beyond normal as if plastered and molded specifically for these moments when t
he rest of her was backpedaling to gain balance.
I wanted to bark back at her and tell her I knew more about her daughter than she did. I wanted to ask her if she knew that her ex-friend Jessica tripped her last month in front of a whole gang of other students. I wanted to ask her if she knew how much not taking piano lessons bothered her. I wanted to ask her if she knew that she had already sketched out the yin yang tattoo she would get the day she turned eighteen. I wondered if she even knew that she wanted to be a vet someday and has wanted that ever since she helped save a dog crossing a busy intersection.
“So, she is still going to school?”
“Of course she’s going to school,” she said. “What kind of mother do you think I am?”
She winked at the photographer who was now pointing his finger up for our cue. Her smile pained me more than it probably pained her to keep it propped on her face like a wall hanging. I felt sorry for her.
“Okay ladies. I’m going to ask you to scoot a little closer.” He tilted my head closer to hers and then recommended she soften her smile a little. He clicked shot after shot of us as if determined to get one where we looked happy to be sisters. After about ten minutes of this, he gave up and told us he’d call when the proofs were ready to be viewed.
Chapter Eight
HOPE
I drifted into the next few days torn between gratitude and dejection. On one hand, Lucy treated me like any good friend would treat another. She showered me with respectful smiles and nods and the occasional playful tap to the arm when I said something silly. Then, there was the issue with that solid line, black as a moonless night and thick as the Great Wall of China, which separated us and reminded me that I had no rights to her in any other form than friendship.
Ryan would’ve loathed me even more had he been the one to catch me and Lucy enjoying our provocative dance. Wherever I focused, be it an ad layout, a water bottle, a tree, I kept seeing his lip curl up in disgust and his eyes gloss over in hatred for me. Well, he’d be happy to know that the balance in the universe did restore itself and I was getting exactly as I deserved, a no-access pass to love.
