Sweet Reflection (Truth)

by Henderson, Grace

  “Cass, I don’t know what to do. She won’t listen. She drinks and she cries then she drinks some more. It’s not just James. She mumbles about her dad too. And her mum. You know she’s been really sick this week with the chemo. All of its taking its toll on her and she’s struggling. Like, really struggling…Well at least he’s feeling the same then…I don’t know why she did it…Okay, I’ll keep you updated…Bye honey.”

  I roll round the door frame and point the bottle at her.

  “S’not you’re place to judge. You’re my friend. I did it because I had to. He deserves more than me. I mean, look at me.” I take another swig and open out my arms, before falling back into the chair. I drink at home. I don’t go out. I couldn’t be in public like this.

  “Yeah I’m looking at you and seeing a woman who’s hurting. Going through something horrible. But I see the same thing every day and there are better ways to deal with it than drinking yourself into a stupor every night.”

  She sits opposite me and tilts her head waiting for a response. The bottle comes back to my lips.

  “Give me ten days. Ten days and this will all be over and we can both move on. But he’s a stubborn bastard so I know he won’t listen until then.”

  “You know it’s Cassie’s hen night tomorrow don’t you? Are you still coming?”

  “Of course.” I say as I lean my head back onto the cushion. My eyelids are feeling heavy, I may just take a quick nap.

  “Well, as you’re friend, and hers too, I will tell you this: If you dare pull this shit while we’re out tomorrow you’re on your own. You’re her Chief Bridesmaid and you better damn well act like it!”

  Little Jens’s grown some balls, I smile to myself as I drift off to sleep.

  “Oww,” I groan as I lean forward on the kitchen table the next morning and rest my forehead on top of my hands.

  “Did you really have to give me the bottle idea?”

  Jen chuckles as she puts a glass in front of me. “Down that. And for the record, you should learn to recognise sarcasm when you hear it.”

  “Yes, mother.” I say as I scrunch up my face and hold my nose, tipping back the hangover cure until there’s nothing left.

  “Ugh, yuck.” I slam the glass back on the table and wipe my mouth with my sleeve.

  “You’ll feel right as rain soon. There’s a lot to do today so you better get dressed.” I glance at the clock and realise if I don’t hurry I’m going to miss my mother’s chemotherapy session. Marissa’s dropping her at the hospital and then spending another night with her while I go out for Cassie’s hen night. I quickly shower and change and push aside the sick feeling in my stomach. It’s my fault and I won’t get any pity from anyone else, let alone myself. It feels like the only way I can cope. I know I’m on a steady downward spiral but I let the regret pull me down further until I can find the strength to claw myself back out. It’s been six days and counting.

  I’m dressed in my killer LBD and killer fake smile. Well the smile itself isn’t fake, of course I’m happy for Cassie; she’s my best friend. But the way it touches the tops of my cheeks? That’s not real. My life’s a mess, so there’s no way it could be. I haven’t been to the bar in ages. I tried to convince Cassie to go somewhere else, but she said this is the place she was first drawn to Mr Richards. It was a Friday night, her first Friday night back in town and our first proper reunion. It was also the night she got attacked by a drunken loon, but the heart wants what the heart wants. A huge table in the back is decorated and reserved just for us. The guys have said they’re going elsewhere tonight and I thanked God for that little piece of important information. I wouldn’t have come if they were going to be here too. The bar’s packed as we strut in, and heads turn.

  We’re experts at turning heads.

  We don’t do anything, not even an eye flirt; the strut is enough when we’re dressed like this. We work our way through the tightly packed bodies to the back and Cassie’s eyes light up when she sees the balloons with Mrs Richards plastered all over them. Ryan’s waiting for us with a tray of Martini’s, Cassie’s favourite cocktail and grins as he hands them out to everyone.

  “Hey you.” He places the tray on the table and opens his arms out for me. I go straight into his warm embrace and relax my face into his chest, letting out a small sigh as his hands tighten on my back. He pulls back and raises his eyebrows, “You okay?”

  “I am now.” I nod and close my eyes as he kisses my forehead gently. Ryan knows just what I need, and when to leave it alone.

  “Good.” He says as he looks round at the girls. “Let me go get Ellie, she’ll be your dedicated bartender tonight. If you need anything just let her know.” I see his gaze linger on Jen long enough to give away his thoughts on her tight blue strapless dress and I laugh a little inside. Perfect match.

  “This is so much fun,” Cassie smiles at me through the mirror in the toilets as she applies another round of her pink lip gloss. “Thanks for coming Laurel. I know it’s tough, but I’m so glad you’re here. It really wouldn’t have been the same without you.” I give her the biggest smile back I can manage, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mrs Richards.” I tease, and it feels good. I feel lighter being with the girls. They take my mind of things, even if it’s just temporary. Tomorrow I can go back to wallowing. Tonight, is for friends and cocktails. I grab her arm and we go back outside, walking straight towards the dancefloor. They’re playing our jam. A Beyonce song. So of course we grab the other girls and we dance, forgetting everything else. Hands are swatted away. Comments are ignored. It’s nothing we’re not used to. We sway our bodies to the beat through the next song and the next. We laugh and we put our arms around each other, we hug and we grind our hips. Guys stare. And so do the girls. But we only see each other. My best friends. They’re the best medicine I could ever wish for. Finally, when the back of my neck is slick with sweat and I’m out of breath and feeling like I want to faint, I decide it’s time to get another drink. I make the universal hand motion at the others and squeeze my way back to the bar.

  “I enjoyed the show.” A vaguely familiar voice speaks into my ear and I know who it is, but can’t quite get to the name. The voice is distorted. The same but different. Deeper? Older? I turn around and feel myself sway as the face comes into focus. He is older, wider chest, more rugged. He was always handsome, could have had any girl he wanted. But now, he’s filled out. His navy crew neck sweater fits round his muscles like its tailor-made. His eyes still have the same mischievous sparkle they had before, and the smile is still the devil’s grin it always was. I expect the anger to bubble up inside but it doesn’t come. Maybe now I’ve made my peace with how it all ended.

  “You look great, Laurel.” He leans in to kiss my cheek and I feel the fake smile back. “Same to you, Darren. It’s been a while.”

  “Yeah about three years?”

  “Four now, but who’s counting hey?”

  His eyes flash with recognition, and I know he’s thinking of the last time we saw each other. He came round to beg me for forgiveness but I shouted at him and slammed the door in his face.

  “Look, I can’t believe I’ve met you here tonight of all nights. Can we go somewhere and talk?” I frown, wondering what tonight is, but my head nods before I think about what I’m actually going to be doing. Talking alone with Dickhead Darren? Nice one, Laurel.

  He takes my hand and leads me through the throng of people until we get to the patio doors and the cool air hits me hard. I rub my arms up and down frantically trying to generate some warmth.

  “Shit, sorry. I didn’t think. Here… Take this.” He pulls off his sweater and wraps it round my shoulders before I get the chance to protest. The smell’s familiar. All these years and he’s still wearing the same cologne. Some things never change.

  He places his hands on the railings and looks out across the garden below, so I lean my hip against it and look up at him. He looks troubled, I rarely saw that look in his eyes. He was always carefree, lov
ed life, didn’t let it ever get him down. He had perfect grades, perfect family and perfect future mapped out in front of him. “So, what’s tonight of all nights then?” I ask, as my eyes wander over his profile. The cool air invigorates and sobers me completely. Why am I out here? Oh yeah, to rake over the second most depressing time of my life. Fan-fucking-tastic.

  “September fourth was our anniversary. Look, I know you probably hate me but I still think about you.”

  “Hate’s a strong word. I’d have to actually care to hate someone.”

  The words are out and I bite my lip hard in frustration. Once again the mouth has a mind of its own.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

  He turns his back to the railing, crossing his arms in front and chuckles. “I deserved it. I was an idiot.” Not going to argue with that.

  “You wouldn’t let me explain, not that I deserved that either, but I wish you had. One of my mates told me a few weeks later why you thought I broke up with you and that’s why I came round. I wanted to explain what was going on with me.”

  “It’s okay. I know why you did what you did. I wasn’t fun to be around. I never had time for you. I was at the hospital and always preoccupied. I get it.” I shrug it off like I didn’t spend the first three years plotting the perfect murder if I ever saw him again.

  He rubs his hands over his face and shakes his head, “That’s not why. I know I was a prick, but you’ve got to be the biggest asshole on the planet to do that to a girl you love. You really thought that of me?”

  I shrug again, unable to contemplate what he’s actually saying. He loved me? Well he told me, but I struggled to believe it when he ended things. Dickhead Darren was so-called for a reason. “What else was I going to think?”

  “I don’t know. I just didn’t think you’d believe I was capable of that.” He tilts his head back to stare up at the night sky then looks back at me. My gaze softens when I see how haunted his face has become. I don’t have those feelings anymore but I want him to get it off his chest now that I’ve accepted what happened.

  “So if it wasn’t my dad, then what was it?”

  “Me.” He says quickly like the admission is going to get stuck if he doesn’t get it out.

  “You were the only good thing in my life at that time. And I ruined that too. I didn’t tell you but the last few months we were together my dad had an affair with a woman he worked with and got her pregnant. My mum found out, they fought all the time. He left to be with this other woman. Mum started drinking. Heavily. I started flunking all my classes. It was a total nightmare. It’s no excuse for the way I treated you though. If I had just told you, maybe we’d still be together.” He takes a deep breath in and relaxes his shoulders, tapping against the railings.

  “Say something?” He begs.

  I can’t find the words to speak. I stare blankly at his face. I remember the love I used to have for him. How after the first year, I knew I wanted to marry him. I thought he was going to be my future. Instead, I let him control it even after he left me. Flashes run through my head. The tears I cried. The guys I used to get over him. So, I didn’t let him explain that day. He could have tried again. Could have told me everything in a voicemail, or in a text if he was that bothered. Instead, it’s taken four years and a meeting of sheer luck. Ugh, I can’t even look at him now. I slowly peel off the sweater and hand it back to him.

  “Thanks for clearing things up. I have to get back. Take care Darren.” I walk away to him shouting my name and I don’t look back. The warmth hits me as I go back inside. I have so many emotions battling in my head that I need time to process. I need to find the closure all over again. “Mrs Richards, I’m sorry to be a party pooper but I have to get back. I’ll get a taxi.” Cassie turns and throws her arms around me. She sways and stumbles to the side but my arms hold on to her tightly so she doesn’t fall.

  “I love you Laur. You’re my bestie. Mmwah.”

  She kisses my cheek and smiles as I pass her over to Jen to hold on to.

  “I love you too. Bye, chick.”

  Jen asks me if I’m okay, but I can’t handle talking about it now so I just nod my head and tell her I’ll speak to her tomorrow.

  I pay for the taxi and get out, happy to be home and eager for the night to become day. Day brings its own challenges with my mum but this is what I wanted. To focus on her. To spend my time reading with her, watching movies, prepping the last few details of Cassie’s wedding and watching over her when the side effects of the chemo become too much for her to deal with by herself.

  The light of the new day creeps into my room and issues the order I wait for. Get up, Laurel, she needs you.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  James

  Nine days and counting. I’m still recovering from Blake’s stag night, a sure fire sign I’m getting old. Way too much beer and JD. But I like it like that. The nights go quicker. Days are fine; work’s so busy, I barely get the chance to stop. But it’s this time of night, when there’s not much work I can do, it’s a struggle to think of anything else but her. She could be in my arms now. We could be at the movies, at the bar, at home in bed. Endless possibilities have turned in to just one. And it takes everything I have not to hit that damn bottle again. Alex stopped by last night and she was the last person on earth I wanted to see. She came under the pretence of work, but I soon realised it was just a load of bullshit. Too much flirting, and not enough working. Since winning the award I’ve had a shit load of business coming my way all over the country. If Alex was gone, and Laurel was here with me, everything would be perfect.

  My phone flashes and as I look at the screen I pull the car over sharply and swipe my thumb across it.

  “Judy? Are you okay?” She’s never rung my mobile before, so that alone makes me panic.

  “James, I’m fine. I’m sorry to call, but…I’m worried about Laurel. I tried Cassie but she’s in London with Blake for a few days and hasn’t seen her. I’d go out and look for her but I haven’t got the strength in me. I feel so helpless. It’s late, and I can’t get through to her. I always at least get a text when she’s staying out.”

  I glance at the time and its nine o’clock which isn’t that late but I know first-hand how close she is to her mum so the fact she hasn’t even text is worrying.

  “What was she doing today?”

  “Well she said she was going to the store for a while then had errands to run, but I haven’t heard from her since lunch. She’s in a bad way, honey and I know it’s because of what’s happened between the two of you. I’m sorry to drag you into it but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m going to swing by the store and have a look, so I’ll let you know if I find anything out.”

  I hang up and sort out my hands-free so I can keep trying her phone. It keeps going to voicemail, and I must have tried it at least ten times before making it to the high street. As I pass it in the distance I can see a dim light coming through the window which relaxes every muscle in my body, she must just be working late and have lost track of time.

  I park round the corner in a side-street and walk round, and the nerves are running deep. Cass has been giving me regular updates, but it feels like ages since we’ve seen each other. I hope she doesn’t freak out when she seems me. As I get closer, my heart starts thumping erratically at the front door that’s ajar, she would never leave it open at night, especially when she’s here on her own.

  An awful feeling of dread and fear grips me as I open the door slowly to see further inside. The store’s in a bad way. Everything’s been messed up. Papers on the floor, the table is turned over, dresses are scattered all over and there are slashes on the sofas. It’s a wreck. Another thought crushes my lungs so I’m struggling to breathe, and that’s Laurel. What if she’s here, if she’s been hurt? I shout out as I scan the room again and run through the back. I search in every room, still shouting out her name: the toilet, the stockroom, and I’m more relieved by
the second that she isn’t here until I get to her office and swing the door open.

  “Laurel.” I shout again out loud, and stop sharply when I see her figure huddled against the wall. I quickly look around and see all the scrunched up tissues she’s got surrounding her. I walk over to her and her eyes are closed, but she’s breathing in and out softly and her face is red and blotchy like she’s been crying her eyes out. She must have walked in on this and I could only imagine how distraught she was. I don’t want to wake her so I gather up the tissues and put them in the bin and at least get all her papers off the floor and put them in a pile on her desk. I’m vaguely aware this is now a crime scene but I don’t let that stop me from picking them up. Something falls onto the floor from in between the paperwork and it’s bright red so catches my eye. I bend down and flip it over in my hands and as soon as I see what it is my heart feels like it’s going to crash out my chest, it’s working so hard. My body tightens as I straighten up and the anger mounting inside sends my fist flying at the wall. The pain is nothing compared to what Laurel must be going through so I do it again and again until I’m satisfied I’m a lot closer to feeling the same as her.