Splitsville.com

by Tonya Kappes

My finger trembles, hovering over the ENTER button. It's like pleasure and pain. I want to click it, but then again I don't. Finally, I let my finger drop. “End Splistville.com. Last chance.” I read it out loud a few times. Each time I use a different voice. And I confirm, no matter what tone I use, sweet or evil, the threat sounds a little more real. I don't recognize the sender. Maybe a prank?

  I take a deep breath. I have a sneaky suspicion this isn't a prank. My hands shake as I make myself open the next email. Work must go on. One good thing, I’m confident they don’t know me.

  At least I hope so.

  I dial my first victim.“Hi, is William there?” I pull up William’s picture and chuckle at the college student doing the infamous beer bong. The dumper is really getting her point across on why she wants to dump him.

  “Yep.”

  “Hi, Bill, I’m Jenn from Splitsville.com and I am calling for Cecilia because. . ..”

  “You want Ceecee?” Of course he interrupts me. I hate when people interrupt me.

  “No,” I say slowly, “I’m calling because Cecilia hired me to break up with you because you have no ambition in life and are unmotivated.” I get the sinking feeling this call’s going to take a while. I put my headphones on and pick up my house. It’s a mess and quite frankly I haven’t had anyone to clean it for or anyone to impress. But now that Bradley is coming over, the entire program has changed. I definitely don’t want him to know what a messy person I am.

  “Wait, wait, and wait.” William stops me with his loud voice. “Did you call me Bill?”

  Clothes and magazines are all around me. The more I pick up, the more I take my frustrations out on dear Bill. “You know, William or Bill, it’s all the same.”

  “Listen, my name is William not Bill. And who are you again?” He’s staying in stage one of “the process.” No wonder he’s in his sixth year of college. You ain’t too bright, are you, Billy? I shake my head, taking another look at his photo. His eyes droop and scraggly hair is cemented to his head. Dumb as a post. I flip the radio on for background noise.

  “I’m Jenn from Splitsville.com and Cecilia hired me to break up with you because you are in your sixth year of college. She’s getting ready to graduate dude. What the hell have you been doing the last six years?” A little part of me cringes, remembering Dabi and Michael. If my breakup call had unhinged Michael, I was responsible. Was I doing it again?

  “What? Is this a joke?” His voice escalates, “Did she like Google you or some shit like that?”

  “I don’t know if she used Google or not, but she did hire me.” Really I don’t know how she found me, but it’s worth putting the question on the form to see where most of my business comes from.

  “I bet you are some big fat chick with dimples all over your ass that lives with your parents. Aren’t you, bitch?” I hear a big thud and jump as he says, “I bet you can’t even get a date.”

  WOW! I grab “The Process” checklist and realize he’s the first dumpee that’s completely skipping stages three through five. He’s going straight for the jugular.

  “Well, I don’t live with my parents.” I smile thinking about Bradley and my date for the night.

  I walk over to the mirror and peer at my body image. I rack my fingers through my long black locks, turn my head and look down my body. Sure I could tone a little in the rump area, I think poking around on my back end. Nope, not fat either Billy.

  “Listen man, she’s getting ready to graduate and start grad school. What are you getting ready to do?” I turn around looking at the front

  I wish these people would listen to me. I separate the two big piles of clothes into three smaller piles: dark, white, and not sure. I briefly move the phone away from my ear when I hear the radio announcer mention Dabi’s name. I drop the t-shirt and walk closer to the radio. I pull the phone from my head and put my ear up to the speaker only to hear they are going to reveal a suspect later in the day. My chest fills with panic. The missed call I’d gotten. Was it really the police? Was I a suspect?

  “I’m getting ready to go to the liquor store because in about an hour I’m heading for spring break.” William keeps his voice strong and steady. His masculine act makes me want to puke.

  “Great, William! That’s exactly why she’s dumping you.” I have to get on with this and Google Dabi. I continue. It’s my job, I remind myself. “What is your major, dude?”

  In my real life, I never use the word “dude,” but in my job, I can be or say whatever I want. Although right now I’m not sure Jenn from Splitsville.com is a good person to be

  “Paleontology. You know, digging.” He sounds like a complete fool.

  “Six years of undergrad?” I question, knowing full well he needs his undergrad classes and then a masters which means he’s far from a degree. “Are you going to Africa to dig up some bones on spring break?”

  “Naw. I’m going to Florida to dig on the beach. You know what I mean?” He snickers. “You want to come?”

  “No, but I’m thinking maybe you should major in GET A CLUE BUDDY!” I’m growing tired of old Billy awful fast. “Cecilia has dumped you. Now move on.”

  “You know what?”

  Oh goody, I’m about to get a life lesson from William. “What?”

  “I’ll accept what you’re saying, but…”

  I stop him, he has said the magic words. “Thank you Billy for using Splitsville.com.” I have my finger on the off button and push. Quickly I type Cecilia a personal note to let her know her decision is wise and wish her good luck in graduate school.

  I grab another slice of day-old pizza and flick on the television in time to hear the impromptu press conference on Dabi Stone. No suspect named yet, and new evidence coming in. My heart flips over like a dead fish. Oh God, oh God, oh God

  I race around the house, throwing everything into an empty closet. I still have one more dump to do before Bradley shows up. And before I can really investigate the link between Splitsville.com and Dabi.

  I begin my next call.

  “Is Mac there?” I ask the voice on the other end of the line. This dump is particularly interesting to me. Carla’s dumping poor old Mac because he’s sensitive. Isn’t that we are all looking for in a man? We complain we can never find the sensitive, caring type and when we have him, we don’t want him anymore.

  “This is Mac.” His voice is curious. Maybe Mac should dump Carla.

  I pull up Mac’s photo. He looks like a nice guy. A little thin but handsome. His teeth aren’t perfect, but whose are?

  “Hi, Mac, I’m Jenn from Splitsville.com and I’m calling on behalf of Carla.” I wonder if she made him grow the goatee. I imagine Mac without facial hair. I smile at the baby face lurking under. Could Mac go postal?

  “What?” Mac is quick to question when he hears Carla’s name. “Splitsville.com?”

  I bury my head in my hands and push the idea away. “Yep. Carla hired me to break up with you because you are, well, just a little bit too sensitive for her.” I begin noting the steps in “the process.”

  He laughs, “I’m what?”

  “She says you’re too sensitive. She says you cry during those animal commercials.” I don’t blame him. I have to turn the channel every time I hear Sarah McLachlan’s song playing on the television.

  “Of course I do. I can’t imagine what an innocent animal can do to warrant such treatment.” Mac is in the explaining stage of “the process.” He says, "Anyone who doesn't is heartless."

  “I understand that, but she’s breaking. . .”

  Click.

  I stop and listen. He hung up on me! “Great!” This is not going as smoothly as it needs to go. I punch in his phone number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey Mac.” I continue with my break-up, “I think we got disconnected.”

  “Nooo,” he groans.

  It’s not a good sign when someone draws out their words.

  “I hung up on you.” His voice makes a sudden change from groaning
to commanding. Definitely not the shy guy I first called.

  “You know, Mac, you seem like a super nice guy, but some women want a strong shoulder to cry on or hang out with. Not someone they have to wipe tears off of and babysit or someone who enjoys chick flicks.” Of course, not me. I’d love a guy who’s into Serendipity or Say Anything, my two favorite movies.

  I can’t help but give him a little advice. “You know the guy that just hung up on me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. That’s the kind of guy a woman wants. Assertive, aggressive.” I continue, “Throw in a few of those episodes and a good mix of sensitive and a girl won’t be able to resist.”

  Click.

  “Jesus, Mac!” I shake my fist at his picture, scolding him for hanging up on me again. “Let’s try this one more time.” I jam my finger against the numbers on the phone.

  “Whaaaat?” A sniffling Mac answers the phone. I clue in on the typing noise in the background.

  “Did you find Splitsville.com?” This is where I usually hammer the coffin shut, but Mac might go all suicidal on me and I don’t want that on my shoulders. Potential murder is plenty, thank you.

  “Man. That son of a bitch.” Mac mutters.

  Son of a what? That's a little harsh for Carla, but I decide not to say so. He seems to be taking this harder than I expected, plus it’s not my job to solve his life issues.

  “Come on, Mac, pull yourself together. Can you tell me why I’m calling?” I want to plead with him to say yes so we can both be put out of our misery. I’ve been thinking. And planning. And now I have to get on with my next victim-Michael Schultz.

  “No,” he mutters. “I don’t understand.”

  “Why can’t you? How have you been treating her?” I never get personal, but he’s bringing it out of me.

  Oh no! I become a little shaky, fear radiating through my veins. Has Bradley gotten to me already? Am I losing my touch? Am I getting weak because Cupid has shot me square in my butt?

  I read down the dump file a little more. There has to be more than this sensitive crap. B. I. N.G.O!

  “Mac, Mac, Mac.” I know I have something that will really get him to understand. “It says here that she’s tired of you spending all her hard-earned cash on dates you asked her out on.”

  “She’s the one who wanted to go on those elaborate dates.”

  I’m starting to hear the anger in Mac’s voice. I take another look at his picture and the sensitive face that might lurk under the facial hair isn’t so visible to me anymore.

  “Plus I haven’t seen her because she's been busy.”

  “She has been busy. Busy finding Splitsville.com. She’s tired of your freeloading ways. She likes men Mac. Real, hard core men. Men who make money and can take her out for a good time. Not a man who spends her money.” I have to dig down deep on this. “Do you understand?”

  “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”

  “Little too late to man up, Mac. Do you understand you are being dumped by Carla using Splitsville.com?” My harsh voice booms through the phone.

  “I’m going to puke.” Mac’s voice sounds distant and muffled. “Who am I going to date now?”

  “Okay well I don’t know who you’re going to date and I don’t care. But before you blow chunks can you please tell me you understand?” I cross my fingers in the air.

  “Yes.” Mac cries out like a sick coyote. “I understand. I got it. I’ve been dumped by Carla, the rich bitch. Thank you and good night.”

  “Thank you, Mac, for using Splitsville.com.” I hang up, feeling as sick as Mac sounded and stare a bit longer at his picture and his not so perfect smile.

  I glance at my watch. Shit! The house is barely clean and Bradley will be here any minute to pick me up. I have no time to dig into Dabi’s situation.

  Six

  “Let’s go before we are late.” I look up at Bradley and realize he’s a good five inches taller than me. I scoot Bradley out the front door so he can’t look at the mess I didn’t finish cleaning up. I could have done better than my jeans and white t-shirt, but with no other clean clothes, my options are limited. Bradley seems to like what he sees, and I relax.

  I catch my reflection in the side mirror. Not bad, like I’ve always belonged right there. I look back over at Bradley. His hair whips around as the air travels through it. I’ve known him for what, 24 hours? And I’m already falling hard for him.

  “This is going to be fun.” He flashes his bright smile while his blue aura shimmers.

  Erin is more than eager to meet up with us at the annual Spring Fling our community puts on to welcome spring. Every year Erin and I go dateless, but not this year. She’s been so far up Kent’s butt, the only way for me to see her is to see her is when she’s with Kent. I still haven’t shaken the uneasy feeling his aura gives me.

  This year I’ll introduce Bradley as my date and other single girls will flash me those looks I give the couples strolling along the lake, hand in hand. I’ve always envied those couples who ride the ferris wheel and kiss when it stops at the top. I am going to be that couple tonight. I’m not even worried about the auras and all the people.

  What a difference a year makes. What a difference a day makes.

  Park City is so pretty in the spring. The city has gone through great lengths to beautify down town. They added a new side walk with patches of grass sprinkled all the way down the street. Old time carriage lamp posts are adorned with Spring Fling flags and hanging flower baskets.

  I’m not sure if it’s the renewal of spring or the beginning stages of a new relationship that’s lifting my spirits, but I like it.

  In no time, the car ride is over. We pull into the parking lot, only to be flagged over into the grass near the lake. The paddleboats are in full swing, with the line all the way around the lake. I smile due to the collective aura around the crowd. If only people can learn patience. I especially love watching the mothers’ auras. They have little tolerance, but quickly turn when someone compliments their child.

  Bradley steps out of the car and motions for me to wait. He opens my door.

  “A true gentleman.” I take his hand and step over the mud created by a car before us. He has to be a good five inches taller than me.

  “I don’t want you to have muddy toes.”

  I probably shouldn’t have worn flip flops, but they were the closest to the door and like I said, I didn’t have time to find anything. I guess if I did pick up my messy house, I’d have my shoes in one place and I wouldn’t have this problem.

  It amazes me where all of the people come from. I know there aren’t this many people living in Park City. Or if they do, I haven’t seen them. The tilt-a-whirl is in full motion. I am enjoying seeing all the eager faces on all the kids. The smell of cotton candy brings back all the wonderful times Erin, Aunt Matilda and I spent coming here. A tradition.

  “Scream if you want to go faster,” the Alpine Rollercoaster operator yells in the microphone, and blood curdling screams are heard throughout the park. “Louder!”

  I clamp my lips together to keep from squealing out loud and point. “I’ve always wanted to get a picture in one of those,” I say hoping Bradley will catch on.

  Bradley rolls his eyes. “Is that your way of telling me you want to take a picture?” He’s caught me in my trick to trap him.

  “Yes.” I do my best school girl impression then dig out the change from the bottom of my purse. “Can we?”

  Bradley stops me from getting money out. “No let me.” He puts his hands in his pocket and pulls out some change.

  He’s such a gentleman. Not to mention hot, great kisser, and mine. “Are you mine?” I blurt.

  He pulls me close and plants a kiss on my ready lips. “Definitely,” he says, and I melt a little inside.

  I pull back the curtains exposing a tiny metal stool. So the photo will be of me sitting on Bradley’s lap. Sweet.

  Bradley goes in head first and pats his leg. “Jus
t for you, gorgeous.” His hand brushes my hair behind my shoulders.

  I close the curtain behind me and take my rightful spot. I keep my weight on my toes. I don’t want to make his legs go to sleep, but he pulls me back and I practically fall in his lap. His arms curl around me, and a fuzzy sensation climbs up my body.

  I look in the glass box. His blue aura is lying up against me. I’ve never been fond of blue on me, but his blue looks great and comment on how good we look together.

  “Let’s do a silly one first,” Bradley says. He twists his lips and flares his nostrils.

  The flash goes off.

  “Let’s stare at each other.” Bradley turns his face towards mine and I do exactly what he says. We are nose to nose.

  The flash goes off.

  “Kiss me.” Bradley whispers before his lips press against mine.

  The flash goes off.

  He deepens the kiss, keeping it gentle and allowing his tongue to find mine. His hands move along my face. I don’t dare move as they tighten to hold steady so he can have the kiss just how he wants it. I am more than willing to give it.

  The flash goes off.

  “That will be the best one.” Bradley smiles, pulling away.

  “I already know it’s my favorite,” I say and go back for seconds.

  “What?” Bradley pulls back with a questionable look on his face. “You have a funny look in your eye.”

  I bit my bottom lip. I wonder if Dabi Stone ever got the chance to get her picture taken in a photo booth. I know I should tell him about Splitsville.com and who I really am. Only, I don’t know him all that well and frankly I’m not ready to give up a blue aura.

  “Nothing.” I smile and lean in next to his ear. I twirl a little curl of his hair around my finger. “I’m happy. That’s all,” I whisper and go back for seconds, again.

  ***

  “See.” I’m so proud to have the one-inch by one-inch piece of paper and hold it up for Erin to see.

  “Oh fun!” Erin turns to Kent and begins to beg him with a whining voice, “Let’s make one.”

  Kent scoots his chair away from Erin. “No way.”