It's All in Your Mind
Page 16
His words stung. They pierced my heart. But anger broiled inside me. All of sudden it was just so obvious. I wasn't in love with Nolan. I'd thought I was in love with his blue eyes, his singing. But falling under the spell of his performance at The Exit wasn't love. I'd taken what I'd seen as his personal magic and added other qualities to him that I wanted him to have.
He wasn't what I imagined. Oh, he could be exciting, and he was nice enough on the surface. But the minute he didn't get what he wanted, he turned pouty and punitive, just as he was now. I was tired of having to try to explain myself to him when I thought he misunderstood what I said. He didn't misunderstand. He just wanted to discount what I said and felt by telling me that "it was all in my mind," or I was "too sensitive," or I was "just looking for trouble." He kept me off balance by using compliments to reel me in, then criticized me, and I'd do what he wanted in order to get his compliments again. What a fool I was. Well, no more. His words no longer had power over me.
I didn't tell him all that. I just stood up and stared Nolan right in the eye. "I'm leaving."
"No, you're not."
I felt as if a spider crawled up my back. Would he really try to force me to stay? I started to step around him.
Nolan grabbed my arm. I tried to pull away. "You're not leaving," he said. "We're leaving."
"What ...?" What did he think he was up to?
"My motorcycle. It's at Nicki's."
My stomach dropped to my knees. I'd forgotten all about that. I dreaded the thought of riding all the way back to Nicki's with Nolan. But what else could I do? "Let's go."
Nolan put his hand on my back, marched us out of the carriage house, and locked the door. Before I could ask for my keys, he dashed around to the other side of the car, hopped in, slammed the door, and started the engine. For a second I thought he was going to drive off without me. Just as I hurled myself into the passenger seat, Nolan stomped his foot onto the accelerator. I sneaked a sideways peek at him as we roared out of the driveway. His eyes were all squinty. His lips pulled into a thin, tight line.
Not that I felt like talking, but the heavy silence was suffocating. Then, just after we pulled onto the Post Road, I had to speak. I had to make everything clear.
"Nolan ...."
No response.
So ... I would just plunge ahead. I would keep it simple. Polite. "Nolan, we're … not a match. I don't think we should see each other any more."
Silence. More silence. Finally Nolan said, "F-fine."
Was that just the tiniest quaver in his voice?
"But if it's over, it's over," he said. "We don't see each other. We don't talk to each other. I don't call you. You don't call me."
Good old Nolan. Had to have it his way right to the end. Well, in this case, it was fine with me. "Okay, a clean break."
I thought I saw Nolan's eyes widened ever so slightly. Maybe he wasn't expecting me to agree so quickly. "Yeah," he said. "A clean break."
After that it was just a short, quiet ride until we pulled into Nicki's parking lot and got out of the car. I started to walk around toward the driver's side. Nolan headed toward me on the way to his motorcycle. He went right past me. Then I heard his voice. "Wait a second."
I turned around.
Nolan walked back and put his arms around me. "I couldn't very well just leave without giving my woman a hug."
I tactfully did not point out that I was no longer "his woman." I let him hug me, but I didn't hug him back. I just said, "Goodbye, Nolan."
As I drove home, although I finally shed a few tears, I was satisfied knowing that Nolan was not the kind of guy I wanted. But what did I want? I tried to think as I stared at the headlights shining on the road glistening from the rain. What was it Caprice said? It's the way a guy treats you that's important, look for a guy who treats you like gold.
On the surface, Nolan was all glittery charm, but underneath he was Fool's Gold. In real life there are no maps with X-marks-the-spot. Where do you look for the real thing?
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning I woke up groggy from a dreamless sleep. I'd kicked the blankets on the floor and my pillow was at my feet. As I rubbed my eyes, it came back to me. Nolan was no longer part of my life. Though my head told me that breaking off with him was the right thing to do, there was an empty space in my heart. It wasn't fatal. But it was there.
When I sat up, my eyes landed on my ceramic horse collection. I picked up the shiny black one whose coloring reminded me of Nolan's hair. Funny, I didn't even have a picture of Nolan. He never gave me one. I had mementos. The "diamond" ring and all the other prizes that Nolan had won at the fair, and movie-ticket stubs. But that was it, really.
We'd made a clean break. Still, I had my memories, and, I had to admit, some of them were good. I could take them out and look at them once in a while, if I wanted to. But otherwise my relationship with Nolan was a closed Chapter.
I hopped off the bed, padded across the floor, and looked out the window. The sky was mostly a slate of gray, but here and there were small smudges of blue. On the maple tree outside my window one yellow leaf stood out against the green. I quickly dressed for work and headed downstairs for breakfast. A platter of sliced boiled potatoes with bacon sat on the table. Mama filled another platter with cheese fried with onions.
"Good morning, Vija!" Mama said. "How was the movie?"
The movie? What movie? Oh, that's right. I'd said I was going to a movie last night! But which movie? Think, Vija, think. Finally, I remembered. Diary of Anne Frank. "It was very good," I said. "But of course nothing could compare to the book." A safe answer, if ever I heard one.
"Such a terrible time, the war." For a moment, Mama's face clouded over. Then she said, "Papa's out back. Would you call him in for breakfast?" The sunshine returned to her face.
I stepped outside. The air had a crisp autumn feel to it. Papa was fussing over the mowers, even though they were clean and ready to be loaded on the truck.
"Papa, it's time for breakfast."
"I'm coming," Papa said. "You know, it won't be long before I'll be working again." He looked as happy as a duck in water.
"Just take it easy at first," I cautioned. "You don't want to overdo."
"Ah, you sound just like your Mama." Papa clapped his hand around my shoulder, and we went inside.
After breakfast Papa went down in the basement to "look at" the furnace. "With fall coming, winter's not far behind," he said. "I'd better check it over."
"Fiddle with it is more like it," Mama said with a gentle smile.
I ran upstairs to brush my teeth and quickly braid my hair, and I was ready for work. I called goodbye to Papa and gave Mama a little kiss, then went out back. I was glad Monroe was not on the schedule today, because I didn't want to run into Nolan. But then, I had the feeling that even over at Mrs. Holland's house I would never see him again. I closed my eyes and told myself I had to stop thinking about Nolan. It was over. It was good that it was over. He was just a habit I had to break. There was no point—
"Are you meditating or sleepwalking?"
My eyes flew open. "Joel! Where did you come from?"
"Well, I was born in New London—"
I shook my finger at him. "You know what I mean."
"I just decided to ride my bike over today," Joel said. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you."
"That's okay," I said. "I was ... planning out our route. It's an easy day, just yards here in Chatfield. We might even finish early."
"Sounds good."
We loaded everything into the truck and headed for Mr. Platt's house.
"It's hard to believe school starts next week," Joel said. "I'm going to miss working with you."
"Me too," I said. "You made the work a lot more fun."
Joel turned on the radio, and started singing along with Pat Boone on "Love Letters in the Sand." Only Joel, being Joel, started making up his own words
When we got to Mr. Platt's yard, the song was still going an
d Joel was still singing. Joel was in full throttle, so I put the truck in park but left the ignition on so he could finish. Joel took my hands in his and inserted my name and his into the song, turning it into a story of one of our swims after work. We hadn't done that lately, what with the days getting cooler and all.
Funny, as Joel trilled away with an occasional squeak or croak here and there, I suddenly realized an important difference between him and Nolan. Nolan performed for an audience. Joel, all along, sang to me.
He finished singing with a flourish, dragging out "in the sa-a-a-a-a-a-nd" until I thought his face would turn blue. When he stopped, I turned off the ignition and applauded.
"Thank you, thank you." Joel took off his hat and held it out in front of him. "Donations willingly accepted."
"I don't have any cash with me," I said. "How about a picnic and swim this Sunday instead?"
Joel's eyes widened and for a second he sat there in silence. "No joke?"
"No joke."
"Good. I mean, great. I'd like that."
"It's a date, then?" I asked, pleasantly surprised at how easily the words came out of my mouth.
Joel's look of surprise eased into a smile. "It's a date."
That was music to my ears.
The End
About the Author
Ann Herrick grew up in Connecticut, where she graduated from The Morgan School and Quinnipiac University. She now lives in Oregon with her husband, who was her high-school sweetheart. Their wonderful daughter is grown, married and gainfully employed, and has given Ann her only grand-dog, Puff, a bloodhound-rottweiller-beagle mix. While she misses the East Coast, especially houses built before 1900, she enjoys the green valleys, fresh air and low humidity in the Willamette Valley of Oregon. Ann loves cats, walking, the Oregon Ducks and working in her back yard. In addition to stories and books for children and young adults, Ann also writes copy for humorous and conventional greeting cards. She loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted through her web site: http://annherrickauthor.com
Other Books We Love Ltd. books by Ann Herrick
All's Fair in Love and Words
Hey, Nobody's Perfect
How to Survive a Summer Romance (Or Two)
Snowed In Together
The Perfect Guy
The Real Me
Trading Faces
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