For Always

by Danielle Sibarium

  “What’s the matter with you?” I yelled as I rolled over to give her a dirty look.

  “I’m just acting like you.”

  I grumbled under my breath and rolled back to the wall.

  Mom wasn’t through. He mission of making me miserable had not yet been completed. She opened the window blinds at the head of the bed letting the blinding sunlight spill into the room.

  “Shut the blinds,” I ordered.

  “Not until you get out of that damn bed and get dressed.”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “I am sick and tired of giving into you because you’re in a bad mood. Things don’t always work out as we planned. It’s called life. Now get out of bed and deal with it.” With the snap of her wrist she pulled off my cozy, beige blanket, making me even angrier.

  I ignored her, figuring if I did, she’d leave. I was right. After a moment of silence Mom gave up. She turned and left. I could read her like a book.

  Unfortunately I hadn’t the foresight to know what the next chapter held. When Mom returned I decided to continue with my plan of action pretending she wasn’t there. It worked well, until I felt the chill of an ice cold glass of water being tossed over my head. This got me out of bed and quickly.

  “What the hell did you do that for?” I asked wiping my face with a t-shirt hanging off the side of my pillow.

  “Life is too short, Stephanie. You of all people know that first hand. The thing is, it’s so short you have to be careful it’s not over before you decide to live.”

  She was getting philosophic, since when? Where did she come off? “I don’t like my life. I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”

  I know this stung her even though she refused to show it. It was a mean thing to say. Her life revolved around me and I was all she had left. The last thing she wanted to hear was that I didn’t want to stick it out with her.

  “You’re right. You didn’t. Your father and I loved each other so much, we wanted that love to grow and extend beyond ourselves. You are a product of that love.”

  Why did she always insist on bringing my father up all the time? I didn’t need to constantly hear how proud or disappointed he’d be, or how much he loved me. It only served as a reminder he was out of my life for good. Forever. It only made the raw ache in my heart hurt that much more, realizing he missed yet one more meaningless day in my life.

  “What would he think if you saw you acting this way?” She continued.

  “I don’t know!” I shouted. “He’d probably think I’m the same selfish, spoiled, brat I was when he died.”

  “What?” She looked confused, “how could you say that?”

  I turned my back to her so she wouldn’t see me wipe my eyes with the back of my hands. “Just get out!”

  She placed her hand on my shoulder and gently turned me to face her. “Your father loved you. He adored you. You must know that.”

  I shook my head feeling empty, “Not after what I said to him.”

  “There was nothing you could’ve said that would change how he felt about you.”

  I stared her down, hurt, angry, betrayed. “If he loved me so much he wouldn’t have left.”

  “He didn’t leave Stephanie, he died.”

  My chest began to heave. I reached my breaking point. I spouted off like a geyser. “He didn’t have to go. He could’ve stayed if he wanted to. He could’ve fought.”

  She raised her voice again, “It was a heart attack. He didn’t choose to die.”

  “Whatever. Just leave me alone.”

  She pulled me into an embrace. I accepted her show of affection and made no move to offer one in response. I just cried, until she resumed her attack.

  “I love you Stephanie, and so did your father. And the last thing either one of us would want is to see you ruin your life over a boy.”

  The tears were replaced with an eruption of rage. “Ruin my life? How dare you!”

  “What else would you call hiding away from the world? You’ve been acting like a hermit for years, and it’s all because of Jordan. I’m tired of it and I want it to end.”

  My hands trembled as I fought desperately to maintain self-control. “First of all, I never became a hermit because of Jordan.” My voice was loud. “I was a loner long before I met him. I don’t relate well to my peers. I never did. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m not like them. Most of them have fathers. Whether they live with them or not, they exist.”

  She nodded, “I know losing your father was difficult. It’s been hard for me as well.”

  “It wasn’t difficult!” I squealed. “It was devastating. Second of all, I don’t think I’ve turned out so bad.”

  “Of course you haven’t.”

  “I’m an honor student and have been all through school. I don’t do drugs.” I continued to rattle on and pause after each point. “I don’t sneak out at night and get into trouble. I work hard for the things I want.”

  “I’m sorry you misunderstood what I meant.”

  “Maybe I haven’t had a lot of long term relationships but I’m almost eighteen. I’m not pregnant and I don’t sleep around. In fact, I’m still a virgin!”

  Mom realized she pushed too far and didn’t have a clue how to quiet the storm. “Calm down, Stephanie.”

  “By the way, that is something you can blame Jordan for. Me, I’d rather like to thank him. Because of him I haven’t particularly wanted to have sex with anyone, allowing me to keep my mind focused and on school rather than on birth control.”

  “I just don’t want to see you sit back while life passes you by and then regret it.”

  “It’s my life. I’m in the driver’s seat, not you, not Jordan. I’ll sit back if it’s what I feel like doing.”

  Thirty-One

  A dark abyss engulfed every part of my life. I felt like a vacuum sucked me into a bubble of oblivion, where I could see the rest of the world outside it, bright and active. Everyone could move and interact as usual, except for me. I existed in the darkness of the second skin my bubble provided. The light of hope and serenity lie just beyond the reach of my invisible barrier.

  I had no one to turn to. No one I could talk to. They all betrayed me in their own right, my mother, Maria, and worst of all Jordan. Brutally and heartlessly, they each left me emotionally deserted. Abandoned. Without school to pass the time of my dull and listless days, each dragged on longer than the one before it.

  I detested my life.

  At home I had to contend with my mother, no matter how hard I tried to steer clear of or ignore her. Walking out my front door only served to remind me of the geographic proximity to Maria, whom I avoided like the plague. But there was nowhere to go. No one to turn to. No safe haven.

  I focused my thoughts on my not too distant future. College. I couldn’t wait to leave! I wasn’t going far, but I welcomed the escape from the confines of Brooklyn and my suddenly overbearing mother to the peace and quiet of New Jersey, and a fresh start.

  Maria opted for Brooklyn College and life at home. For once I wouldn’t have to consider her in my day-to-day decisions. No need for her to approve of the new friends I’d make, or drag me off toward the people she thought we should be getting acquainted with. I was about to welcome the rest of my life. Best of all, I would be out of her shadow.

  For good.

  The late July sun bore down oppressively and baked everything its rays touched. The heat reminded me I still had five stifling weeks at home. Five long weeks of keeping Maria at a distance, and avoiding Jordan, realizing for the first time he was a disease to me. I wished I could find a twelve step program for handling heartbreak.

  With nothing better to do I took on more hours at work. Being a receptionist isn’t exciting, but it beats lying in bed for hours with the shades drawn, avoiding the world of the living. If nothing else, it gave me an opportunity to earn extra spending money for school.

  On my first full day with my new, longer hours, I had to wake earlier than I had sin
ce school ended. I hadn’t slept much since the blowout with Jordan. I’d lie in bed at night and close my eyes, only to replay the scenes over and over inside my head. No matter how I tried to pick a happy memory from my childhood, from the time before I knew he existed, his was the face that appeared behind my eyelids.

  I yawned as I walked through the front door of the real estate office, feeling optimistic that my day would at least be more productive than if I’d stayed home. I told myself getting out of the house was the right move, and it would pay off in the end. I found my reward in the form of a UPS worker named Shawn.

  I couldn’t help but notice him. He walked through the front door and straight to my desk. He held a heavy box, which only served to exhibit his biceps bulging out of the short sleeves of his dark brown shirt. I thought if his arms looked that good, I should getter a better look at the rest of him.

  I smiled as I took in his sandy hair and huge eyes. His deep bronze tan and bright white smile really brought out his brilliant blue eyes. He stood at a nice length, all six feet two inches of him.

  I felt his eyes soaking me in as I signed for a package. I enjoyed his ogling. It felt like I was being vindicated in my decision to initiate change from the stagnate existence I’d been engulfed in.

  He leaned on the desk next to mine, facing me, “First day?” He asked, “I’ve never seen you here before.”

  “Nah,” I shook my head, “I usually work later in the afternoon.”

  “I guess today’s my lucky day,” he flashed his smile, I felt my face fill with color. He looked down at my signature, “Stephanie?”

  “Yes,” I answered too eager for my own good.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” He stood up straight. “Will you be here tomorrow?” he asked, looking mildly curious.

  I nodded. “I should be.”

  “I look forward to it.” He started toward the door.

  “Wait!” I called. He turned back, an expectant look on his face. “What’s your name?”

  “Shawn,” he said with a grin.

  “Nice to meet you too, Shawn.”

  He waved, “Tomorrow,” and walked out.

  I never much cared for a guy in uniform, but something about Shawn intrigued me. Aside from being easy on the eyes, he brought with him a sense of something I longed for. Interest? Danger? I couldn’t be certain which.

  He returned the next day bearing flowers instead of a package. Instead of asking for my signature, he asked for a date. With a light heart and fun loving attitude, I accepted.

  Shawn promised to be at my house at seven o’clock. We planned to go out for coffee and dessert since it was the middle of the week, and we both had to be up early for work the next day.

  I mentioned something in passing to my mother. More like I mumbled it, but hearing the word date, she didn’t give it a second thought. She probably wanted to rejoice that she’d finally broken through and made me understand I shouldn’t be waiting around for Jordan.

  I didn’t pay any heed to the roar of the motorcycle engine nearby. I waited anxiously for Shawn to arrive, intending to marshal him away as quickly and painlessly as possible, without getting the third degree from my mother. He arrived promptly at seven o’clock and stood on the other side of my front door with a motorcycle helmet in hand.

  There went my wonderful plan to steer him away. I watched my mother’s eyes bulge with open disapproval. In an attempt to display to her his courtesy and conscientiousness, Shawn explained he was holding the spare helmet he brought for me to wear.

  This did not sway her, she went on a tirade. It only increased her chagrin that Shawn should be so presumptuous.

  “My daughter is not going to step one foot out of this house if the plan is to put her on the back of that death trap.” I felt small and insignificant.

  “I want to go on,” I said in my toughest “don’t mess with me Mom” tone I could. I didn’t know he had a motorcycle, but now that I did, I liked the idea. I longed to feel the wind whipping past my face, carrying my long hair, like a kite behind me. I wanted to feel the closeness of being pressed up against another human being, with my arms wrapped tight around him, holding on for dear life.

  “I’ll call the police. I’ll tell them you were kidnapped. You are still seventeen, you know.”

  “For two weeks, Mom!” I let out a long deep sigh.

  Humiliated I gave in and told Shawn I wouldn’t go on the motorcycle. At first I thought he’d be insulted and walk out. Or worse, think I was too immature. Instead he understood.

  We walked to a little café five blocks from my house making small talk along the way, mostly about his motorcycle.

  “I can’t believe you’ve worked there over a year and I just met you,” Shawn said as we took our seats in the back of the café.

  “I just changed my hours. Monday was the first morning.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “Me too.”

  I meant that sincerely. While my feelings for Jordan never stopped me from dating, they kept my heart safeguarded from bad boys who might otherwise cause me harm.

  No one could hold a candle to Jordan. Charlie came close but I managed to send him screaming into the fire. Now that I knew for certain nothing would ever come of Jordan and me, I convinced myself I not only could move on, I must.

  The waitress approached the table for our order. She appeared to be my age and very pretty. I noticed Shawn’s eyes linger over every inch of her legs, left mostly exposed by her very short skirt.

  Immediately I regretted ever giving him the time of day and wanted to leave. After all, Jordan would never be so rude. A sharp twinge struck my heart as I silently reprimanded myself. Jordan was off limits, end of story. Besides I didn’t want to fall in love with Shawn. I wanted to use him as a distraction until I left for school.

  The waitress smiled at Shawn sweetly as she took our order. He ordered a latte and I, a cappuccino.

  “See something you like?” I asked in a neutral tone.

  He smiled, embarrassed. “I was just looking at her tattoo. I have a thing for them. Sorry.”

  “Tattoo?”

  “She has a butterfly on her left ankle.”

  “Oh.” I felt myself blush as I had to fight the urge to slink down in my chair and try to disappear. Embarrassing. Definitely embarrassing.

  He leaned back in his chair, his arm draped over the back, looking way too cocky and smirked, “Don’t worry. I like my women jealous.”

  Could this get any worse? I wanted to take my foot out of my mouth. I didn’t like the taste of rubber, but I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “I’m not jealous!” I insisted, making sure I maintained eye contact. “I just don’t like my guys rude.”

  “Fair enough.”

  The rest of Shawn’s interactions with the waitress were brief and polite. His eyes never trailed below her neck. As for me, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had body art displayed over the taut muscles hidden under his tight fitting t-shirt.

  “Do you have any? Or do you just admire them?” I asked.

  “I have two.” He pulled up the left leg of his khakis to reveal a python.

  “Where’s the other?”

  He shifted in his seat so most of his back faced me and lifted his shirt, revealing an angel looking up to heaven, surrounded by flames on the small of his back. I don’t know if I was more surprised at the image or his tight back muscles.

  The colors were striking, vibrant.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Yeah. But after a few beers you don’t mind it so much.”

  The conversation carried us through coffee, cake and the walk home. We went from tattoos and body piercing to the surrounding trees and stars in the sky. A block away from my house we stopped under a large maple tree, offering shade from the brash illumination of the streetlights.

  Cloaked beneath the tree we enjoyed the bit of privacy it offe
red making it seem quite a romantic spot. Shawn tucked himself under, leaning against the bark, and pulled me close to him.

  We stood there with his arms around my waist, my hands on his shoulders, still talking about the stars, only now he compared them to my eyes. As if I couldn’t see through that load of bull. Still I thought it sweet.

  “It’s getting late,” he said looking at his watch. “Let’s get you home.”

  Seeing him make no move to kiss me, I felt I had to initiate it. When I gave up on Jordan I promised myself I would no longer be passive and wait for things to happen. Not anymore. From now on I vowed to go after the things I want, full steam ahead.

  I closed my eyes and sought his lips with my own. It started off as a soft, sweet kiss and soon grew to be passionate and overpowering. Fireworks literally rained in the sky above us.

  Shawn moved his feet hooking my ankles, forcing me to shift more of my weight onto him, my body leaning against his. His hands held my head through my long hair. We continued to kiss until we were not only breathless but my chin was sore from the harsh stubble on his face.

  I felt liberated. I’d never made the first move. Ever. I definitely didn’t regret doing it now. I felt exhilarated. I wanted more. I knew the strange sensations, the hyperactive nerve endings were nothing more than lust. Nothing more than revenge, but I didn’t care. I liked how I felt and liked the fact that I couldn’t wait to see Shawn again.

  Thirty-Two

  My birthday finally arrived and when it did, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. Shawn and I went out on three more dates before the big day. At first I wasn’t sure if I should even tell him about it. I knew he wouldn’t let it pass without acknowledgement and some sort of private celebration. And it was my eighteenth birthday. I waited ages for this one. I should do something to mark it.

  Mom wanted to do something special but I didn’t feel in the special kind of mood. Maria and I were still barely speaking. And Jordan was out of my life for good, so what was there to celebrate? I managed to plow through another disappointing year without physically maiming anyone or myself?