Somewhere Between Black and White

by Shelly Hickman

  “Ah, flattery will get you everywhere, my friend.”

  Abby was the personification of one word—class. Even when wearing jeans and a T-shirt, there was elegance about her. She was a person whose smile and laugh came readily, and could make the most neurotic person in the world feel at ease.

  “Where are those two beautiful daughters of yours, anyway?” Edward asked as he scanned Evelyn’s small but charming backyard, which was decorated with little white lights draping the pine trees.

  “They’re right over here. Girls! Come say hello to Edward.”

  Evelyn and Sophie walked over and welcomed him with hugs. With an arm around each of them, he proclaimed, “Abby, your girls are so lovely, they make me wanna switch teams!” At that, Evelyn blushed, while Sophie let out something close to a cackle.

  “Edward, you are too much!” Sophie replied. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “You know what I like, honey,” he said with a wink.

  “Coming right up.” Sophie wandered into the kitchen where Christian was standing, clearly tortured in his own home.

  “What’s up?” Sophie asked, slapping him on the back.

  “Hey, Soph.”

  She did sort of feel sorry for the guy, pitiful thing that he was, but she often wondered if much of his manner was for show. She supposed only Evie knew for sure, and maybe his mother as well. Christian had conventional good looks—thick, wavy brown hair, nice skin. In Sophie’s opinion, he had no personality whatsoever. Evie must have seen something in him that Sophie didn’t. He never drank, which was probably a good thing due to whatever mood issues he had. But at the same time, Sophie thought he could use something to loosen him up.

  “So whatcha been up to, Christian?”

  “Not much,” he answered. “Been helping Mom around the house, doing some yard work.”

  “Really?” How nice. You can help your mom with yard work, but you can’t help your wife with your own damn house! Making an effort to have a positive conversation with him wasn’t going to happen here. Now she was just pissed off. “Well, I gotta get this drink over to Edward.”

  As she passed her mother, they exchanged meaningful glances. Abby approached her son-in-law to attempt her turn at friendly dialogue. Maybe she would have better luck than Sophie.

  Later that evening, Sophie sat with Lisa, her friend and fellow teacher, as she picked at a bowl of Chex Mix.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun,” Lisa persuaded. “I’ve been married five years, and I still get out more than you do.”

  “So what? Why is it so important that I get out more?”

  “Well. . . .” Lisa hemmed and hawed. “Jerry has a friend I want you to meet.”

  Sophie ended her search for melba toast in the Chex Mix and gave Lisa an annoyed sigh.

  “Just agree to meet him,” Lisa added. “He’s a cool guy.”

  “I’ll go, but only if you promise not to fix me up,” Sophie insisted. What was it about married people and their deep-seated desire to pair up their single friends?

  “You haven’t dated anyone for at least six months,” Lisa pointed out, as if it were some atrocity.

  “Lisa, I’m tired. I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like, and the last thing I want to do is meet some guy in a bar.”

  “Oh, give me a break! You’re not going to be meeting some guy in a bar. It will be someone that Jerry and I know, and it will be at Murphy’s. Remember Murphy’s?” Lisa jibed, poking her in the ribs. “We used to go there all the time when we were in college.”

  “Ughhh,” Sophie groaned. “No set ups. It has to be casual.”

  “They’ve got Karaoke now,” Lisa said in a sing-song voice.

  “Is that supposed to entice me, or make me run away screaming?”

  “Okay, no set ups. Some others from work will be there too, so it will be very casual.”

  Sophie sipped her drink and watched Evie approach Christian across the room. He looked nauseated, stressed and self-conscious. Evelyn reached up and lovingly straightened his collar as if he were a little boy, and then said something that seemed to put him at ease. He grinned stiffly and put his arms around her.

  Sophie was fascinated by their dynamic, wanting to be a fly on the wall to their conversation. Anything to understand why her sister stayed in this relationship.

  Evie cocked her head and gazed up into Christian’s face, asking him something. His smile disappeared, and so did he as he retreated to the bedroom. Evie nervously skimmed the room and when her gaze met Sophie’s, Sophie averted her eyes, pretending to be ignorant of the exchange.

  Christian wasn’t seen for the rest of the evening.

  ***

  Hours later, Abby and Sophie remained after the party to help Evelyn clean up.

  “The party was just lovely, girls. Thank you so much!” Abby said, blowing out the candles on the dining table.

  “It did turn out really nice, Evie,” Sophie added, bringing serving trays to the kitchen sink.

  “It did, didn’t it?”

  “So, what’s up with Christian?” Sophie asked. “Why did he leave the party?”

  Abby lowered her eyes and continued putting things away.

  “Oh, that. . . .” Evelyn waved off her question. “He was just having some stomach problems is all.” She bent down to pick some popcorn off the floor.

  “Are you sure?” Sophie pressed. Their mother gave Sophie a drop it signal, which Evelyn noticed.

  “I’m sure. Look, why don’t you guys head home.” Evie tossed the popcorn into the waste basket. “Everything’s pretty much cleaned up anyway, and I’m beat.”

  “Sweetie, why don’t you go on to bed, and Sophie and I can finish cleaning up,” Abby said, rubbing Evie’s back.

  “Thanks, Mom, but it’s fine. I’ll get the last little bit tomorrow.”

  “I’ll come by in the morning and help you,” Sophie offered.

  “No. Don’t.” Evie held up her hands. “Just . . . it’s fine. Okay? You two go on home and get some rest.”

  Sophie and her mother shared another glance. “Okay, sweetie,” Abby said as she gathered her purse and headed for the door. Sophie stayed put for a moment, unconvinced, until Abby motioned for her to follow.

  ***

  Evie sighed with relief as she watched her sister and mother leave. When she reached her bedroom, Christian was sitting motionless on the bed. She passed him without saying anything and headed to the bathroom. Her joints were screaming, and all she wanted to do was throw herself under the covers.

  “I’m sorry I left tonight.”

  “Christian, I’m exhausted. Let’s just forget about it, okay?” She tied her hair back into a ponytail and shoved her clothes in the hamper.

  “You need to lose me, Evie.”

  He still hadn’t moved. Evelyn sighed and walked over to the edge of the bed to sit next to him, putting her hand on his. “What have I told you? No one is leaving, so stop being ridiculous. I can’t even imagine my life without you.”

  His eyes were glassy. “You deserve better.”

  “Stop.” Why can’t you just take the medicine? Why?

  “Evie, I want to.” It was as if she had verbalized her question. “It’s just . . . the way it makes me feel. It’s like I’m dead. I feel nothing. I can’t work like that.”

  He was referring to his art.

  Christian had taught at the university, but he lost his position due to his instability. He had a magnificent talent—everyone agreed upon that. He could create colored pencil drawings like no one had ever seen. They didn’t even resemble pencil; they were more like oil paintings. But he never did anything with them. He never showed them to anyone.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently. “You’re hurting, aren’t you? I can tell.”

  She blinked, her heavy lids signaling it was closing time.

  “You lie there a couple minutes while I run you a hot bath. Then I’ll give you a massage.” He headed for the tub.

&
nbsp; “No, Chris, it’s late.”

  “No arguments,” he called from the bathroom. “You don’t have to do anything.”

  Evelyn lay back on the bed and listened to the water run, wondering if she could continue to live this way, but her devotion to Christian ran as deep as the despondency in his eyes. She wished he could be happy. Be comfortable in his own skin. Just . . . be.

  Tears flowed down the sides of her face and dripped into her ears. Was it possible for a person’s hair to hurt? Because she was certain that even her hair had nerve endings.

  “You ready, babe?”

  Evie quickly wiped her face and sat up, forcing a smile for her husband.

  “Yeah.”

  Five

  Later that week, Sophie went to Murphy’s with Lisa and her husband. She had to admit she was having a pretty good time, watching everyone make fools out of themselves on stage. And the two drinks she’d had definitely added to the entertainment value.

  Tim, the friend Lisa wanted her to meet, was surprisingly pleasant. That is, until he tried to convince Sophie to sing with him. He looked pretty loose himself as he perused the karaoke menu, trying to make a choice. “How about that Prince song? ‘You Got the Look’?”

  “Uh, noooo,” Sophie replied. “If you want to do a song, you better make it a solo. You’re not getting me up there.”

  “Hey, if a paunchy little guy like me is willing to get up there, then a gorgeous girl like you should have no trouble.” Sophie turned to Lisa with a raised eyebrow.

  “Don’t let her fool you,” Lisa said. “She’s done karaoke before. She and I sang ‘Love Will Keep Us Together’ a few years ago.”

  “That was never to be spoken of again,” Sophie warned. They all turned to watch the person on stage, who was doing a soulful rendition of “You Are So Beautiful”.

  “These people who take themselves so seriously are something else,” Tim said. “You can’t do a song like that in a karaoke bar. It has to be something fun.” He studied the menu a little longer. “Here. This is the one. ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’. I’m gonna go put in the request.”

  “He’s crazy if he thinks I’m singing with him,” Sophie said. “Anyway, ya think they have any music from this century? The poor guy is stuck in the 70s and 80s!”

  “Have another drink. You’ll sing it,” Lisa replied.

  “Oh, no I won’t.”

  Sure enough, a half hour and two rum and cokes later, Sophie was on the stage with Tim, completely mutilating the Elton John tune. The people on the floor were singing along, dancing and having a great time. When the song was over, the audience clapped and cheered. Tim motioned toward Sophie as a game show host might show off a brand new car, encouraging the crowd even more. She gave a quick bow, then sheepishly left the stage.

  Tim headed for the restroom while Sophie sat down at the end of the very long table that seated their group.

  “That was great, Soph!” Lisa said. “You were so Kiki Dee.”

  “What can I say? The music spoke to me.”

  “You gotta give Tim a lot of credit for getting you up there. Isn’t he fun?”

  “Yeah, he is.”

  “Soph, I’ve been trying not to ask you this all night,” Lisa began, exchanging a look with her husband, Jerry. “But now that Tim’s gone—what the hell happened to your bangs? You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “Now, why would I chop them on purpose? But you know I can’t stand it when they get too long.”

  “So you decide to butcher them the night you knew you were going to meet him?” Lisa asked. “Come on! You’re sabotaging yourself. They’re sticking straight up, and you look like Cameron Diaz in the bar scene in Something About Mary.” Jerry hooted.

  “Okay, maybe I got them a little short. They’re not that bad, are they?” Sophie pulled a compact from her purse, dipped her fingers in her water glass and dabbed her hair to try to tame it. Her eyes eventually wandered to the other end of their table, when she did a double-take. There he was again. Sitting next to someone in their group was the man she’d seen in the store. Two different stores. He glanced at her and grinned, then turned back to his conversation.

  “Oh my God.”

  “What?” Lisa asked.

  “Who is that guy talking to Kurt?”

  Lisa peeked in his direction. “Oh, he’s a new teacher at our school. Stan? Sam? I can’t remember. Teaches English. You haven’t met him yet?”

  “Hey, guys,” Tim said when he returned. “I’m really sorry, Sophie, but my sister just called. She’s stranded with a flat, and I told her I’d come help her. I gotta go.”

  “That’s okay,” Sophie said.

  “You got a ride home?”

  “Yeah, I came with these guys.” The question kind of rubbed Sophie the wrong way. Was he just assuming he would be driving her home?

  “I had a lot of fun,” he said.

  “Me, too.”

  Lisa waited to make sure he had gone, and then wasted no time grilling Sophie. “So, what do you think? I think it went pretty well, despite your hair mishap. I give the guy credit for keeping a straight face.”

  Sophie didn’t hear a word Lisa said, but tried her best to look Sam’s way without him noticing. He gave her a wave.

  “Oh my God!” she repeated, having a horrifying realization. “Was he sitting there while I was singing?”

  “I’m not sure. I think he got here about halfway through. Why do you keep asking about him?”

  Sam got up from his seat and started making his way toward them.

  “Shit! He’s coming over here.”

  “Sophie, what is your problem?”

  Sophie’s heartbeat went into overdrive. Was she having a cardiac arrest? No, that wasn’t right. That’s when you have no heartbeat.

  “Hi,” he said, standing directly in front Sophie.

  “Hi there,” Lisa replied. “I’m sorry—I don’t remember your name.”

  “It’s Sam,” he answered, introducing himself to Lisa and her husband. “You put on a pretty good show up there, Sophie.”

  She put her elbow on the table and covered her eyes. “Thanks.”

  “Have a seat.” Lisa motioned to the spot across from Sophie that Tim had vacated.

  “Thanks. Did Sophie tell you how we seem to keep bumping into each other?”

  “No, she didn’t.” Lisa eyed Sophie and playfully flipped her red hair.

  “She probably thinks I’m stalking her,” he joked.

  “No, I don’t think that,” Sophie replied, but now that he said it, she began to wonder.

  “How many times have you guys run into each other?” Jerry asked.

  “This makes three?” Sophie looked at Sam.

  “Must be fate,” was Sam's response.

  “Sophie, you’re blushing!” Lisa said.

  “No, I’m not! Lisa said you teach at our school,” Sophie eagerly changed the subject. “She’s not serious, is she?” She hadn’t intended for her question to sound as rude as it did. “I just meant it’s hugely weird, is all.”

  “No, no . . . it’s true,” he answered.

  The upbeat music had stopped and patrons were slow dancing.

  “Hey, come dance with me, kiddo,” Jerry offered, taking Lisa’s hand to walk her to the floor. Sophie and Sam sat in silence for a few moments, watching the two of them chatter and laugh.

  She felt Sam’s eyes shift to her, yet didn’t understand why she was hesitant to turn his way. Maybe the alcohol she’d consumed would only intensify the effect he had on her the times before.

  “Do you . . .” he began. “Do you want to dance?”

  “. . . Okay.”

  She walked ahead of him, tripping over a chair leg as she went. Really? He probably thought she was sloshed. When they reached the dance floor, they fumbled with positioning of their hands before she finally placed hers on his shoulders. Why was that so clumsy? Where else were their hands supposed to go? But then he took one of her hands and
held it in his. She thought it kind of sweet.

  As he pulled her in just a bit, careful not to be presumptuous, she had to stifle a giggle. A giggle! She was suddenly back in the sixth grade, dancing with her first real crush, nursing that sweet commotion going on in her stomach.

  For a short while they watched the other couples, which was all the more awkward because the distance between them demanded that they look at one another. She couldn’t deny that she was strangely drawn to him, but she wished she had never agreed to dance. This whole thing was painfully unsettling, but in a good way.

  Finally, she met his eyes. Why did she feel as if it would be the most natural thing in the world to kiss him?

  “I know you, don’t I?” he said, more as a statement than a question. Before she had a chance to respond, he shook his head. “Agh, I told myself I wasn’t going to say that. The line is so overplayed.”

  “You’re forgiven,” she replied. “But only because it feels like I know you, too.”

  “Really?” He sighed with relief. “I was trying to think of any words but those. I wanted to say it the second time I saw you, but, well. . . .”

  She said nothing, but instead found herself preoccupied with the thick, dark hair that curled just above his ear, staring so long that the world beyond became a blur of motion and light. The song that played had long been one of her favorites, but tonight the melody hung hauntingly in her ears. Her gaze wandered to his shoulder, where her hand seemed to meld into his soft cotton shirt. She no longer beheld him in his entirety, but instead registered glimpses that were inexplicably calming. His jawline with just a hint of stubble, the curve of his mouth as he spoke, the kindness in his eyes.

  She blinked, trying to clear her head. How much have I had to drink anyway? Suddenly realizing that he had stopped talking, she broke from her fog. “I’m sorry. . . .”

  “Maybe we have met, and we just don’t remember,” he continued, unoffended. “Could we have gone to school together?”

  “I don’t think so. I may not remember names of people I went to school with, but I usually remember faces.” Besides, it was more of a feeling than a look.