by C. S. Moore
"I'm sorry I waited so long to come back home—"
"Don't apologize, we want you to be wherever you're happiest," Mandy said, glaring at Kristy.
"I'm happy here. I've missed you all so much. It's just that…" I trailed off, unsure of how to explain it.
"You're miserable here too," Kristy guessed.
That was true.
I didn't want to lie to her, but I didn't want to tell her that visiting home was a miserable form of torture either.
"Let's get going. We might beat the dinner rush if we hurry," Mandy said, saving me from answering.
****
The restaurant was packed, and I could see why — it was fabulous. The décor was stainless steel mixed with bamboo accents giving the place a very modern feel. Potted orchids sat on the tables bringing splashes of color that balanced perfectly with the rest of the dining room. We took a seat at one of the smaller tables in a corner that was a little less occupied.
A waiter in a crisply pressed collared shirt handed us menus and smiled politely. "The special tonight is the rainbow roll—"
"Sounds weird; what's that?" Mandy asked.
"It's like a California roll with yellowtail, tuna, salmon, white fish, snapper, eel, and of course avocado," the waiter said.
"Eel?" Mandy asked. "Did I hear that right?"
"Eel is really good, not nearly as weird as you'd think," Kristy said.
"Really, you think you'll get me to eat eel?" Mandy asked, picking up her menu.
The waiter cleared his throat. "I'll give you ladies a moment," he said with a smile.
"So have you found it?" I asked Mandy.
"Found what?" she asked, still hidden behind the menu.
"Found the one American dish on the menu, like you do every time we eat somewhere exotic?"
Kristy laughed. "So true…"
Mandy lowered the menu just enough for me to see her sticking her tongue out. When she did things like that it was so easy for me to picture her still in pigtails. It was strange for me to think of her as a grown woman. She would always be my little sister, even if she was married off already.
"I'm just practical; I know I love burgers. I'll try some of the stuff you order, hate it, and then I'll have a lovely burger to fill me up instead of an empty belly," she reasoned. "Oh here we go… Teriyaki burger!"
I smiled; the one thing my little sister wasn't, was practical. Self-perception was such an odd thing; so many people looked at themselves and saw something completely different than what everyone else saw. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a woman that was just beginning to understand that she was beautiful, someone strong enough to turn her entire world upside down, and someone weak enough to still have an aching heart. I thought I was more honest than most when analyzing myself. But maybe that was a joke; maybe I looked much worse to someone on the outside. I hoped not.
"So what will you ladies have?" The waiter asked, bringing me out of my faraway thoughts. He looked at me, pen at his pad ready to scribble something down.
I hadn't even glanced at the menu. "Kristy, you order for me. I don't know what's good."
She beamed — the mother hen in her loved things like this. "We'll take two specials, an order of spicy tuna… also let's have one mango roll and one spider roll. Oh, and can we get extra ginger and wasabi on the side?"
"Of course, and for you miss?" he asked turning to Mandy.
"I'll have the teriyaki burger and fries," she said.
The waiter's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
I guessed it wasn't often that people ordered anything but sushi here. We handed the menus to the waiter, and he left to fill our order.
"That is a fine male specimen right there!" Kristy said when he was out of hearing distance.
"Really?" I asked, dumbfounded.
"Are you serious? I'm a married woman, and I about ran off into the sunset with him," Mandy said, throwing her long hair over her shoulder to catch one more look at our waiter.
"I guess I didn't notice," I said.
Mandy narrowed her eyes at me. "Have you noticed anyone since Phil?"
"No," I said honestly.
"Have you gone on any dates?" Kristy asked.
I sighed; I didn't understand why this was important. "Yes, I go on a date with a different guy every week."
"A different guy…" Mandy trailed off.
Kristy cleared her throat awkwardly. "You haven't, you know…"
"Yeah right, I didn't even invite any of them into my apartment, let alone—"
"Come on, Kristy, if she can keep her V-card intact through a six year relationship with some guy she actually loved, you think she'd do that?" Mandy asked.
"Well, they say blondes have more fun." She grinned.
These must be the jokes my Dad had warned me about. "Not that much fun, but blondes do get more dates. I even got asked out when I was stuck in rush hour traffic."
Mandy's mouth fell open. "No way? How'd that happen?"
"Well the guy in the car next to mine had been making flirty eyes at me for twenty minutes of stop-and-don't-go traffic. Then he jumped out of his car and came to my window and asked me out; I couldn't even run away, it so wasn't fair. I had to say yes."
"That's so sweet! Was he cute?" Mandy asked.
I thought back to the date we had gone on. I remember watching the clock, wondering how much longer I'd have to be out with him. But I couldn't remember if he was cute or not. "I don't know."
"Why are you even dating then? It doesn't really seem like you're ready," Kristy said worry creasing her brow.
"Well, I started dating two weeks after the breakup. Mostly because I was worried if I didn't start, I never would, but also I did it to prove to myself that I was desirable—"
"Of course you are!" Mandy interrupted.
"Well, other guys seem to think so, but there's no point in keeping it up. I just end up feeling bad when they try to give me a goodnight kiss or hug, and it makes my skin crawl. These guys were all nothing but nice. I'm just sick of dating. I think I'll take a break and focus on me and school for a few years."
"That's probably a good idea. Look at me, I'm perfectly happy without a man to take care of and worry about," Kristy said with a shrug.
Our waiter showed up balancing plates expertly.
I tried to see him as any other girl would. He had sandy hair and piercing blue eyes. His jaw was rounded in a cute baby face way; he wasn't too thin or too thick. All of his attributes added into a man any girl should think was cute, but he was just a guy to me, nothing special. Maybe I was broken.
Kristy picked up her chop sticks and grabbed a piece of what I guessed was the rainbow roll. She held it up in a toast. "To taking a break from men, those venomous creatures God forced us to coexist with."
I followed suit and raised my roll, though it was hard to hold onto with the sticks. "I'll toast to that."
Mandy lifted her hamburger and touched it to our rolls, making a clinking sound like champagne glasses knocking together. "Don't tell my husband I participated in that man-hating speech!"
"It's not that I hate men," I protested. "I just hate men that make me hate myself."
"Did Phil make you feel that way?" Kristy asked around a mouthful of rice.
I hadn't talked about it him in so long; this trip was turning into a trial by fire. I had spent all of this time scrubbing out his memory, and now I was expected to talk about it like it was no big thing. "Yes, he was the master of the backhanded compliment. He'd say something like, 'I think you're so beautiful… I don't understand why the other guys at school think you're nothing to look at.'"
"Ouch," Kristy whispered.
"Did you slap him? Tell me you slapped him," Mandy said loudly.
"No, my self-esteem was so low… I was just happy he thought I was beautiful."
"That sucks; we all knew he was a cold fish. He was never touchy feely with you and didn't smile much, but we never thought that he treated you like that," Mandy said, her
blue eyes catching me in a sad stare. "Why did you stay with him for so long?"
I popped a piece of sushi in my mouth to buy me some time and was surprised to find it was delicious. That was a question I had asked myself for a long time. I stayed with him because he was smart, he was sexy, and because I couldn't believe a guy like him would want me for a girlfriend. But when I set that list next to the reasons why I left, I couldn't understand why I stuck around for so long. I left because he was selfish, uncaring, and loved to talk down to me.
I swallowed and answered. "God only knows."
"You know what they say, when one door closes another opens," Kristy assured me.
"Maybe the big guy had to keep you off the market until the door you were meant to go through was open. I mean we all knew you weren't going to end up with Phil—"
I interrupted Mandy. "You knew? I mean you didn't even know how he treated me, or how miserable he could make me, and you still thought we wouldn't end up together?" I couldn't believe it.
"Honey," Mandy said a smile on her lips. "You're so full of love and life — you're like one of those huge fireworks the city sets off, bright and full of colors. And he's a… well, a dud. I just can't wait for you to find the door that's standing open waiting for you."
Chapter Three
My sisters dropped me back off at our parents' house; it was after ten, so I tried to be quiet. It brought back memories of my teenage years, trying to get back into the house without waking my parents. When I cracked the front door open, I saw my father was still awake. He was perched in his favorite chair reading an old western by the light of the table side lamp.
When he heard me come in, he looked up. "You're home!"
"Did you think I wasn't coming back?" I asked.
"Well, with Mandy driving, I was beginning to worry." He laughed.
Little sister's driving skills were famously terrible.
"We made it through the trip without any serious incident although I did threaten to take her cell phone away a few times."
"I hate those things," he said placing a bookmark I had made him in the second grade into his book.
"You didn't need to stay up for me, Dad. I'll be here all weekend."
"I don't want to miss a second of your visit, and I wanted to talk to you about something." He set his book on the oak table that had cup rings worn into the finish even though my poor mother had spent hours yelling about coasters.
"What do you want to talk about?" I asked tentatively. I didn't know if I could take another serious discussion. But maybe every member of the family had to have a heart to heart to make them feel better about my state of mind.
"I want to talk to you about Phillip, if that's all right," he said just as cautiously.
I sighed in defeat. "You can talk to me about anything you want, Dad."
He took a deep breath and straightened up. "Do you think I'm a good father?"
"What? Of course, you're the best Dad in the world!" I didn't understand where the question came from.
He held up a hand to cut me off. "Do you think I'm a good husband to your mother?"
I didn't even need to think about it before I answered. "I'm pretty sure Mom is the most spoiled wife that ever lived." We didn't have a lot and were far from wealthy, but my Dad had always showered my Mom with love.
"Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce nowadays, and it's because this generation has no idea what it means to have those responsibilities. What do you think it takes to be a good parent and spouse?"
"I don't know, Dad. I can only know what I've seen in you and Mom… I guess you have to be selfless and always put your family first." I thought about how my Dad always went on a diet of tuna and rice whenever he got too chubby for his pants; most people would just buy new pants. But my Dad never spent a cent on himself.
"Do you think Phil fit the bill there?" he asked.
The hole in my chest throbbed; I had dreamed he would be my husband one day. I had ended that path, and I wasn't sure what path I was on now. But wherever I was, I never thought about long white dresses or lifelong vows… not anymore. "You knew him for six years. What do you think?" I asked.
"I think that I saw you bending over backwards to make him happy and he never budged to do one thing for you or your dreams. He would have been an awful husband. I would've always worried about you because he couldn't even take care of himself. I mean his Daddy paid for everything: his apartment, his car, his tuition, his food, and he still talked about being stressed out." He shook his head. "You had so much ambition, but it all went out the window when you decided to… chase around someone that didn't deserve chasing. What happened to school; what happened to your writing?" His voice was louder than I think he meant it to be, but I imagined it was hard for him to keep quiet for all those years.
I hadn't realized how much my Dad saw. He must have been so happy when I'd called it off. "I know, Dad. I'm looking at schools, and all of my writing is terrible emo poetry right now." I laughed because it was true.
"It won't always be. What matters is that you see you're too great of a person to just let yourself disappear into someone else," he said.
"I thought love was supposed to consume you—"
"Not like that. We didn't even recognize you when you were in that relationship. Even now when you're still heartbroken, I see more spark than you've had in years. It's nice to see. I've missed it. You'll heal up and find someone that will treat you right."
My parents and sisters weren't seeing how bad I really was if they actually thought that. I would always be that romantic girl waiting for prince charming, but if I was still this broken… maybe it was too late for me to fall in love again. "I don't know if I'll ever heal up, Dad. I'm broken, I don't want to be with him, and I don't want to be with anyone else. That part of my life is done and I'm glad it is… I don't want to give someone that power over me again. I'm just done with love, and I'm done with boys," I said rubbing my eyes. I was exhausted from the long drive, the emotional weight, and this conversation.
"Boys, that's right." He smiled. "You loved a boy, baby sister… and someday you're going to find a man."
****
I lay in my old bedroom staring up at the ceiling; it still had a few of the glow-in-the-dark stars I had stuck on when I was twelve. They weren't near as bright as I remembered. Maybe everything was better and brighter in memory. Sitting in this room, it was easy to remember getting my first kiss on the foot of the bed when Phillip and I were doing homework. All of the good memories we had shared floated to the surface of my mind with the ease of a bubble. But I had to remind myself of the bad things, dive to the bottom and drag them up. Doing that helped to dim the bright memory of the moments that wouldn't go away.
Time was supposed to heal all wounds, but nine months wasn't enough time to make me forget the kisses and I-love-yous that the purple walls of this room had overheard.
I grabbed my blanket and dragged it down the hall to my little sister's bedroom. All of the words that those hot pink walls had heard were ones that made me happy. I curled up on the fluffy white daybed and fell fast asleep.
****
I was standing in the middle of a frozen lake; it was where Phillip and I first met. I had gone to some school kickoff party, and he had shown an interest in me as we swam under the hot sun. He was a year older than me and drove the best car in the parking lot at school. It was a warm memory – the warmth of the sun on my shoulders, the butterflies in my stomach, and the burgers on the grill. But this place was far from that now; thick frost clung to everything that used to be colorful and alive. A tear escaped my eye and slid down my cheek, leaving a frigid trail in its wake.
This wasteland was where all of the good and the bad started. I didn't want to be anywhere near here, so I took a tentative step, inching my way across the ice to the shore. The ice seemed to be stable enough, and my cautious approach wasn't getting me out of here fast enough. I dug in with my toe and started running as fast as I co
uld along the slippery surface. A loud noise like rocks slamming into each other sounded from behind me, and I lost my footing as the surface shifted. My feet flew above my head and my shoulder blades slammed through the ice. Tendrils of freezing cold water licked their way up my body. In an instant, I was chilled to the core, and it reminded me of how I felt right after the breakup, so cold and numb. I forced my eyes open and pain shot through me when the cold liquid touched my eyeballs. The water was calm and crystal clear. From what I could see, the blue water stretched on forever. Looking back up at the light filtering down from the ice, I couldn't find whatever opening I had fallen through. Nothing on the surface had changed; it was like I had sprung through it by osmosis.
I was trapped under the thick sheet of ice, unable to breathe; unable to feel, and with no sign left behind… no one on the surface was coming to save me.
Chapter Four
A pink mug of coffee warmed my palm as I stared at the last sentence I'd written in my notepad.
I chose to lose so I could gain and with loss comes pain.
I laughed; if my mug and finger nails were painted black instead of pink, I'd definitely be able to read this at a Goth coffee shop. Writing would have to take a backseat; the stuff that was coming out on paper just wasn't what I wanted to create. I heard a door open from the other end of the house; my parents must have woken up. Three hours of sleep was all I had been able to take before my mind refused to continue on with horrifying dreams — so caffeine was going to be my best friend today.
I closed my notepad, threw it into my satchel, and headed for the door. When I stepped into the hallway, I saw my mother knocking on the door of my old bedroom. She turned her head when she heard me and confusion marked her face.
"Why are you staying in Mandy's room, Tessa?" she asked.
I was sure my Dad or sisters would have been able to guess without asking. But that was just my Mom; she didn't fret about me as much as the others. She was such a positive person that she never really worried about the future; she just thought everything would always work out.
