Enigma Rose: A Novel

by SE Reynolds

  Joshua is not the first person to say that. Ellie reminds me of that every day.

  "I like helping people, and if I can help someone get through a difficult situation, then I feel like I've made a difference in someone's life."

  "For a nice steep price, that is, Ms. Shewster."

  Joshua laughs, but I don't find it funny. However, I don't want to be rude, so I laugh with him.

  "Looks like you are leaving for the day, Stacie. I won't keep you."

  "You're not. Just going home."

  "How about a drink then?"

  "Um, a drink with me?"

  "Is there someone else in the room?" he says, looking around suspiciously.

  "No, just me. Yeah, sure, why not!"

  "Okay then, great, let's go to Ryan's."

  Joshua and I walk three blocks to Ryan's Pub. I've never been to Ryan's. It's not someplace I'd visit by myself, maybe with a group of people or a date, but never by myself. The outside is dark red brick with a big black oval wooden door that reminds me of something from medieval times. It has Ryan's written in Kelly-green paint across it. The windows are stained brown, so you can't see in, at least not from the street. It doesn't have the curb appeal like Benny's, but it's a town treasure, I suppose.

  "Allow me, Ms. Shewster," Joshua says as he pulls open the big heavy door and allows me to enter first.

  The inside of Ryan's isn't much better than the outside. It's dark, not romantically dark, but hard to see dark, especially after coming out of the late afternoon sun. The wooden bar looks outdated and in need of repair. It’s big, long, and takes up almost all of the space.

  "Is the bar okay, Ms. Shewster?"

  "Yes, it is. And please call me Stacie. Ms. Shewster sounds like a school teacher."

  "Or a nice lawyer," Joshua responds.

  We sit on the bar stools, but mine is not level and keeps rocking. Joshua notices and switches the stool for one at the end of the bar.

  "Johnny can have this one."

  "Who's Johnny?"

  "Johnny is a fixture here. He's a lot like Norm from Cheers. He will be here in about an hour bitching about the rickety old bar stool and his rickety old life. What will you have, Stacie?"

  "Beer, please."

  "Well, they have plenty of that here. What kind?"

  "Budweiser?"

  It's the first brand that comes to mind if I think about beer.

  "You got it."

  I'm not a drinker. I'd much rather use my calories up in food than beverage, but the taste of the cold beer in the frosty mug goes down my throat so smoothly. I instantly feel a warmth inside.

  "Bad day?" Joshua asks.

  "That obvious?"

  "I can usually tell how a person's day was by how fast the beer lasts in their glass."

  "Not a bad day, not a good day, but the same old day."

  "I know those days too well. I usually have those days on the weekends or when I have too much time on my hands, but luckily, being a mayor doesn't allow me too many of those."

  "Mayor? Mayor of what?"

  "Mayor of this fine city we live in."

  "I didn't realize Fairview had a mayor?"

  "Yes, I'm elected and everything."

  "Oh, I should know that. I really should know that," I say, shaking my head.

  Suddenly, the memory of a mayor and a wife that died of cancer resonates, but I'm not sure he’s the same mayor. He did say he’s a single dad the other day. He looks too respectable to have divorced her, and he is way too handsome for any woman to leave him. She must be dead.

  "Your wife...did she die recently?"

  Joshua waves to the bartender and puts two fingers up. The bartender nods and pours us two more beers. Joshua stares at his beer. The silence between us lingers for at least thirty seconds. I'm about to apologize, try to clarify, or explain what I just said, anything to kill the awkwardness that I've just created, but Joshua finally speaks.

  "Yes, well, not too recent; it's been over a year."

  "I'm so—"

  "Please don't, please don't. It's not your fault she died. I'm sick of people apologizing for her or for my loss or whatever those words are supposed to acknowledge. I'm sick of being the husband of a dead woman."

  "I didn't mean to upset you, Joshua."

  "It's okay, Stacie; I'm sorry for lashing out. I've heard more apologies about Melissa than I can stomach. It's time to move on. Can we change the subject, please? What about you, Stacie? Married? Divorced? Widowed? Let's talk about you."

  "No, not any of those. I should have a yes to one of those statuses, but I don't."

  "You are a busy lady, Stacie. You don't have time for the crap that a guy can give you. Trust me."

  If Joshua only knew of my need, relenting desire, and numerous failed attempts to find that guy, he'd think I was a desperate loser.

  "Yes, I'm focusing on my career, and now I'm where I want to be, so who knows, maybe I'll find that Mr. Right. I don't want to settle."

  I hear my own words and want to laugh. I am tired of being alone, waking up alone, eating alone, breathing alone. I would settle. I would definitely settle.

  "Get a dog Stacie; you'd be better off."

  "A dog? I had a dog, and it died."

  "Get a cat then."

  "I'm not the cat type."

  I don't like where the conversation is going. He must think I'm so pathetic that I'd be content with a cat. Poor spinster Stacie and her cat. That's me, lonely old cat lady.

  "Well, thanks for the beers, Joshua, I have some paperwork I need to do tonight, so I should get going."

  "Are you going to let this poor sap eat alone? They have amazing burgers here. Please stay and have a burger. It's on me."

  He wants me to stay and have a meal with him, but he sees that Virginia woman with intense eyes. I'm being stupid; this isn't a date; he just doesn't want to eat alone.

  "Sure, I guess I should eat something before it gets too late."

  I don't want Joshua to see me chewing on a fat greasy burger, so instead, I order a salad with grilled salmon on top. His burger looks so much better than my salad. I long for his burger, but even more so, I long for a man like Joshua. He is like a perfect Ken doll; he has a slight grin even when he's serious, and his blue eyes never seem to blink. We are definitely not the same grade. I'm sure he only came by my office to make sure I won't sue, and, as an insurance policy, he decides to feed me. Whatever the reason for this impromptu date, I enjoy sitting next to a handsome man who invited me out. I don't care if it is under pretenses.

  "Thanks for rescuing me from my Monday, Stacie. Great way to start the week."

  "Thank you, Joshua, you rescued me too. I hope I found a new friend?"

  "You most certainly have, Stacie. Here is to friends and dive bars."

  Joshua insists on walking me back to my car. The night air is warm and velvety, and I still have a slight buzz. I want to grab Joshua's hand and stroll down Main Street like a real couple. The streetlights have flickered on, and the old town looks so pretty and quaint in the evening, just like a Norman Rockwell painting. I feel so lucky walking down Main Street with the mayor of Fairview.

  "Why did you want to be a mayor, Joshua?"

  "I don't know. It just kind of evolved. I used to be a cop but didn't like the hours, and Melissa was always worried. So, I figured why not continue to serve my community but in a way that doesn't require a gun and a protective vest. Besides, this town means a lot to me. The people, the way they appreciate me for my service to them. I try to uphold their beliefs, their rights, their livelihood. It's not just a job to me, Stacie. It's more than that. It's a way of life I hope to have for a long time. Mayor of Fairview, it's small potatoes I know," Joshua says as he points his finger towards the end of Mainstreet. "But one day, I want to be up there, doing bigger things for more people,"

  "What's up there?"

  "The hill, Capitol Hill, up Route 66, up the Beltway."

  "I see. I have no doubt you will get to you
r destination, Joshua. I can just tell."

  Listening to Joshua speak, I can see why he won the vote; he already has mine. I'm sad to see my car a few feet away from us. I don't want the night to end, but like any good dream, I have to wake up.

  "Go put some bad guys in jail tomorrow, Ms. Lawyer Lady."

  "I'm not that kind of lawyer lady," I laugh.

  "No, you are a very nice lady, Stacie. Thanks for keeping me company tonight."

  "You're welcome."

  I offer Joshua my hand, and he takes it as he stares into my eyes. I feel a flush come over my face.

  "You be careful driving home, Young Lady."

  Joshua opens the car door for me and I get it. I gaze up at him, pleading with my eyes. Please kiss me, please, but instead, he shuts my door. The sound of the car door slamming in my face jars me back to reality, reminding me it was only a pretend date. I back out, turn down Main Street, and head back to my big house. I know I will think about this night for many nights to come.

  Chapter 21 – Virginia

  I can't believe it! What the fuck am I seeing? Who's he with? I just came out of Misty's studio, and there right across the street, is my Joshua with some short dumpy girl strolling down Main Street. I immediately back into the doorway of the studio. I want to make sure I am seeing what I think I'm seeing. Misty notices me stumbling back inside.

  "Did you forget something?"

  "No, come here quick."

  "What are you doing, V?"

  "Look, Misty. Look."

  "Is that Joshua?" Misty asks as she peers over my shoulder. "Is that Stacie? Huh!"

  "What do you mean, huh? Who's Stacie?"

  "You remember her; I introduced you to her last week. She was talking about Joshua and his kid. You were eavesdropping. Do you remember?"

  "Yes, I remember her now. I wasn't eavesdropping, Misty. She had this irritating whiny voice like a child. I was dying to know what she looked like. That's all. Oh God, I feel like I'm going to puke."

  "Calm down! I'm sure it's nothing. Stacie isn't exactly Joshua's type; you are. They probably just ran into each other."

  "Joshua and I had sex Saturday night."

  "Wow! How was it?"

  "It was fine."

  "That's it, just fine."

  "It was wonderful. I mean, the actual act was fine. You know how first-time sex is. It's never really good. Someone is bumbling and stumbling while the other fakes an orgasm so it'll be over with."

  "You faked your orgasm, V? That's funny."

  "No, I didn't. I mean, I didn't have one. He did, of course."

  "Of course."

  "It was more than just sex. He confided in me about his wife's death and how difficult everything was. And, he confided in me after sex. Not before, so it wasn't just to soften me up, you know?"

  "Yeah, that's a good sign, V. If he confided in you before sex, well, then he was just trying to get a pity fuck."

  "Right, that's what I thought too, but I haven't heard from him since. And now I see him walking down the street with that little—"

  "Stop! That means nothing, but do me a favor, V. Don't you dare text him. Let him make the next move. If he wants to see you again, he will. If he doesn't, then it's his loss. Don't let him think you are desperate or needy. Men like bitches! Not the stereotypical bitch, but the bitch that has an attitude that says, 'I can take you or leave you,' that says 'I don't need you. Your existence is to serve my needs.' They are hunters. He will hunt you down if he wants you. Trust me."

  After my workout, I leave Misty's and head straight to the grocery store, where I buy two bottles of pinot grigio and a frozen pizza. I can't wait to get home and let the numbing process begin. It doesn't make sense. How could he be with another woman after our night together? It wasn't just a date; it was so much more. We connected on every level. What scares me the most is how devastated I feel. He has gone silent again. He didn't even send a thank you for a lovely evening text. Nothing! And just two days later, he walks down the street with dumpy Stacie with the whiny voice. I didn't even remember meeting her; she is that nondescript. She is not even an Amanda. I would remember meeting square face, amazon Amanda. Stacie is like an extra in a movie. She is only there as a backdrop to the main characters, pretending to be doing something but not distracting from the leading actress. There is no way she is distracting Joshua from me. I can't stand it; instead of texting Joshua, I text Misty.

  What do you know about Stacie?

  Why do you care? There is no way J is interested in her.

  Maybe I'm just curious. What is her deal?

  She's a lawyer at the firm across the street from the studio. She's a regular customer, but I haven't seen her much lately.

  I can tell. She is a bit thick.

  Be nice, V. She is very sweet, and I feel sorry for her. She seems lonely. Never married, no kids, kinda sad.

  Well, she should take better care of herself. Lose the baby fat, skip a meal or two or three.

  Stop it, V! You have everything going for you. Forget about Stacie, forget about J. Come in tomorrow after work. I will give you a kick-ass workout. We can then go to dinner afterward.

  Maybe, goodnight

  I google law offices in the Old Town of Fairfield. Only one result appears, Simon, Franklin, and Shewster. I click on About our Partners, and there she is, plain as Jane, Stacie Shewster. Is she smiling or getting her teeth cleaned? She smiles so wide that her gums are showing, and her nose is all wrinkled up like a little pig. Even her mousy brown hair is dull, straight shoulder-length, tucked behind her ears. I just don't get it. Why are you smiling so hard, Stacie? What could you be happy about? You are plain, fat, and alone? You will probably stay that way until you eat yourself to death. I see it in you. You are thick and probably will always be thick. I bet you know that, but now and then you go on these diets, you lose just enough weight so that you start to feel good about yourself. But then, you look in the mirror and realize that no matter how hard you try, you will always be thick. And one day, when your metabolism slows down, you will become obese because that is your body type's destiny. You will finally accept that you will be an obese, lonely, smelly woman, like a pig laying in the mud, wrinkling its nose. The only people that will ever love you are your parents, but really, they are ashamed of you because you are fat. Like Amanda, you should just do yourself in. Save yourself from years of misery, heart disease, and cellulite. There is no way Joshua wants you. There is no way! I cut away from her face; it irritates me. What are your credentials, Stacie? You should have plenty. No husband or child to distract you, only food. You should have plenty of honorary degrees and awards to fill up the internet.

  Stacie Shewster is a junior partner at Simon, Franklin, and Shewster. She was born and raised in Virginia. She has a bachelor's degree in sociology from Mary Washington University, where she graduated cum laude. She obtained her law degree from George Mason University. She specializes in…fucking up my relationship.

  My phone buzzes.

  I am expecting another consoling text from Misty.

  Hey pretty lady. How's your week going? Saturday was fun. Thanks again for dinner the other night. Thought we could get together again before your son comes back.

  I collapse on my couch. My nerves ease, and I feel overwhelming relief. If Joshua only knew the power he has over me. His actions, his words, they impact me too much. One second, I feel like I've been hit by a truck; the next, I feel like I can run a marathon. I wait ten minutes and imagine what Misty would say, and then I respond.

  Busy week but I think I can find some time. What did you have in mind?

  Stacie is no longer relevant to me. She once again becomes a bland character in the backdrop of my story.

  Chapter 22 – Joshua

  Stacie is healing nicely from the wrath of JJ and the ice cream boat; what a relief. And, I'm happy to learn my new friend has very deep pockets with no dependents to drain them. She is the perfect donor for future campaigns. The lonely ones are
the best ones. They have nothing else to spend their money on. Why not me?

  Now that Melissa is gone, I need to learn how to acquaint myself more with nice ladies and their deep pockets. That used to be Melissa's job. She was a great bait-and-switch salesman or, should I say, salesperson. She would befriend you at the grocery store or the hair salon, ask you about yourself, and never let the conversation sway from you. She would listen to your little life stories and periodically check-in to see how your little stories have progressed.

  Did Billy get into his first choice of college? I know you said he was very anxious about it. Did you get Sara the car she wanted? I know you said how she kept dropping hints over the Prius. How did your doctor's appointment go? I know you were worried.

  Melissa would make you feel so special, so important. Eventually, she would invite you over to our house for dinner, not just any house, but the mayor's house. You would feel privileged to get an invitation from the mayor, even if he is one of the lowest paid mayor's in the entire country. You'd brag about it to your friends, and then your friends would want to meet me too. It's great word-of-mouth advertising.

  When you arrived at our home, the Joshua and Melissa show would begin. Melissa would play the doting hostess, and I would occasionally interject with a one-liner causing you to laugh out loud, just like a 1970's sitcom.

  "Joshua, when you get a chance, can you put the butter on the table."

  "Yes, dear," I would say, and then I would turn to you and whisper, "when Melissa says get a chance, she really means get off your ass and put the butter on the table now."

  You'd enjoy watching our playful banter. You'd feel at home but also impressed because you are sitting in the mayor's dining room. This is when Melissa perfectly performs the ole bait and switch.

  "Joshua really cares about," fill in the blank with whatever cause is important to you. "But if he doesn't win in November, then…" fill in the blank with whatever keeps you up at night.

  By the end of the evening, you would have written a check payable to Mayor Joshua Steadman. In turn, Melissa would mail a hand-written thank you note signed by yours truly. You wouldn't throw it away with the rest of the junk mail. Instead, you would put it in a safe place because it's from someone important, an elected official, someone you think is a big deal.