“Eddie,” she said.
“He’s beautiful. You should enter one of those contests they have. You know, where you submit a picture of you and your pet and the ones who look most alike win a huge prize.”
She smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is,” I assured her.
“Do you have any pets, Rae?”
I shook my head.
“Eddie is a wonderful companion. He loves curling up on my lap while I read a good book.” She chuckled. “He loves to sleep, that cat.” And then her tone changed. I could see concern on her face. “Is everything all right in your world, Rae? Your poetry, it’s amazing. Really. And I don’t want to say anything that might keep you from submitting more in the future. But I also—well, I simply need to know you’re okay.”
Another teacher might have said something judgmental. Made me feel like a loser. But not Ms. Bloodsaw.
“I’m fine,” I said softly. “I promise. The poetry? It helps.”
She nodded and I could tell she understood. “Good. I think that’s wonderful. Keep it up. And please, if there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”
I looked at the picture of her cat again. She obviously loved Eddie a lot. Ms. Bloodsaw was a kind person, and I knew she really meant what she said. Of course, there wasn’t anything she could do for me, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “Sure. Okay. And I’m sorry I was late today. I had something I needed to take care of.”
“It’s all right. I won’t mark you tardy. I’m just glad everything’s all right.”
I stood up. “Thanks a lot.”
When I got back to my desk, Felicia discreetly tossed me a note, then went back to her essay.
Trying not to make any noise, I opened the note carefully.
Where were you this morning? Nathan was so worried about you. Like, frantic. It was really freaky. We tried to tell him that you probably just overslept, but he wouldn’t have any of it. How come you didn’t pick up your phone?
Nathan had called me four times and texted me five that morning. I didn’t answer because I didn’t want to talk to him. You’d think he might catch a clue. I needed to figure out what to do about him.
I wrote back:
You’re right. I overslept. Nathan needs to chill out.
But would he? That was the question.
• • •
I tried to avoid Nathan at lunchtime, but I had to go to my locker to get some books, and that’s when he pounced on me.
“Finally, Rae,” he said, coming up from behind and putting his arms around me. “I was worried about you.”
His presence was like a weight around my neck. I felt myself slipping down into a place I didn’t want to go.
I wriggled free. “Look, Nathan. I need to ask you a favor. I need you to give me some space, okay? I’m still a little freaked out about yesterday. I need some time to think things over.”
“No,” he said pitifully. “No, Rae, please.”
I hugged my books to my chest and pushed myself to keep going. “Don’t call me every five minutes. Don’t come to my locker every chance you get. Don’t show up unexpectedly at my work. I need some space,” I pleaded. “Show me you can give me something I need for a change. Please?”
I could tell pushing him away tore him apart. But I didn’t feel like I had any other choice.
Nathan was quiet. People walked by, staring at us. School was the absolute worst place to try to have a serious conversation.
“Okay,” he said finally. “As long as it’s temporary. If that’s what you really want.” He touched my arm. Begged me with his gorgeous blue eyes. “Please know how sorry I am. I want to make it up to you. Just let me know when you’re ready, and I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”
Then he turned around and headed off down the hallway. A wave of relief washed over me. Until I remembered what he’d said.
As long as it’s temporary.
that’s a first
AT WORK AFTER SCHOOL, MISTER, SPENCER’S GOLDEN RETRIEVER, greeted me at the door, his tail wagging. Sweetest dog ever. The customers love him.
I leaned down to pet him and realized I felt lighter than I had in a while. It felt so good to be in the one place I could relax, surrounded by people (and a dog) I adored.
“Hey, boy,” I said, stroking his silky soft head. “How ya doin’?”
“Our Rae of sunshine’s here,” Spencer announced. He was tallying credit card receipts at the front counter.
I admired the scarf hanging around his neck, full of rich autumn colors—burgundy, gold, and forest green. “Make this yourself?” I asked, reaching out and taking the tassels at the end of the scarf in my hand. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. Just finished it last night. I had every intention of giving it to my sister for Christmas. But, Rae, I love it so much! I’m just too selfish, aren’t I?”
“You are,” I said, sliding behind the counter. “So make me one for Christmas and the universe will forgive you.” I checked the box marked “deliveries.” Nothing.
“Rae. Dinner with Hitler or Stalin?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Come on. You know you have to choose one. That’s how the game works.”
I don’t remember exactly how it got started, but we play “This or That” on a semiregular basis, to entertain ourselves. I took a seat on the stool next to Spencer’s. “Okay, Hitler. And I would serve hamburgers and french fries with a lovely side of arsenic.”
Spencer laughed. I love his laugh. It’s deep and hearty, which is kind of surprising since he’s fairly petite. We have so much fun together, and he’s one of my favorite people in the world.
“Snakes or spiders?” I asked him as a spider scurried across the counter. I grabbed his copy of People magazine, rolled it up, and . . . good-bye, spider.
“Oh, dear God. Please. Two of the most loathsome creatures on the planet.”
As I put the magazine back in its spot, after wiping it with a tissue, I noticed an envelope with my name on it. “Oh, yeah,” Spencer said. “Found that outside the door when I ran an errand for Nina earlier.”
I ripped it open. “You didn’t answer, Spencer. Spiders or snakes?”
He shuddered. “Fine. Snakes. Only because I love that scene with Indiana Jones and the snakes. He’s adorable covered in fear, isn’t he?”
I laughed. “That he is.”
Inside the envelope was a note and some cash.
Please deliver a nice flower arrangement to this address:
1925 Swiffer Street, Apt. 35D
The flowers are for Maddie. Sign the card “From a Friend.”
I knew that apartment complex. I knew it because I used to live there. A shiver ran down my spine.
“Spencer, have we ever gotten one of these before?”
He stopped what he was doing and took the note from me. “No, I don’t think so. But you know what they say. There’s a first time for everything.”
“I want to show Nina.”
In the workroom, Nina looked up from her bouquet. “Hon, I’ve been worried sick about you since yesterday. Is everything okay?”
“I think things are back to normal now. For the most part. Thanks for giving me the afternoon off.” I walked over and handed her the envelope. “Why would someone want to deliver flowers and not sign their name?”
She set a yellow rose down on the table. “I don’t have the foggiest idea.” She read the note, then said, “Well, I’m happy to take the business. If I make up a bouquet, would you leave a little early and deliver it on your way home?”
“Sure.”
She gave me back the envelope. “Rae? What’s wrong? You look worried.”
“I’m not sure why my name is on the envelope. What do I have to do with this?”
Nina went back to the bouquet. “I don’t know. But if you’re concerned, I can have Spencer make the delivery.”
“I think I’m supposed to do
it, though. Why else would it have my name?”
“Well, there’s no law that says you have to do it.”
I read it again. What if it was Nathan, setting some kind of trap? Maybe he’d come up with some elaborate plan to freak me out so I’d go running back to him.
I tried to tell myself I was being paranoid. It didn’t even look like his handwriting. It was a random act of kindness. Like when my grandma would pay for the person’s order behind us in the drive-through line. I could still hear her voice as she told me that the road to happiness is paved with good deeds for others. That’s all this was—a good deed.
“No, it’s all right. I’ll do it. Unless my horoscope says to avoid strange situations or something.” I winked at her.
She smiled. “Nothing like that. Watch your wallet, though. It said finances could be a problem for you this month.”
Wow. Right on the money. So to speak.
“Did it say what to do about it?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
Concern filled her eyes anyway. “You okay? Anything I can do? Besides give you a raise, which you know I’d do if I could.”
“I’ve just had some unexpected expenses, that’s all. It’ll be okay.” I said it to reassure myself as much as her.
“Rae?” Nina called out as I walked toward the door.
“Yeah?”
She pointed a daisy at me. “I’m really glad you work here. I know the pay isn’t much, darlin’, but money isn’t everything, right?”
I smiled. “You and Spencer. The flowers. Making people happy. Those are the reasons I work here. The money’s just a bonus.”
She spun the bouquet around, taking it in. The blues and yellows were so pretty together, and I could tell she was proud of the work she’d done.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Nina said.
When Dean started taking most of my money, I probably would have quit if I’d worked anywhere else. But this was more than a job. It felt like home.
special delivery #1
AS I DROVE UP TO THE GLENN RIDGE APARTMENTS, MEMORIES assaulted me. My mother, lost in a fog of grief after Grandma died, calling in sick to work and sleeping for days. Men, walking up our steps, carrying brown paper bags, eager to ease her pain. Eleven-year-old me, sleeping on a friend’s floor, out of sight, out of mind, just the way my mother liked me.
I’d dream of my dad coming back for us, driving up in a shiny red Mercedes, and taking us to live in a fancy house in a big city. I was sure if he could only find us, all of our problems would be solved.
We didn’t get a Mercedes, or a fancy house, or my dad. Instead we got Dean.
The place was full of memories, and none of them good. I was anxious to make the delivery and get out of there. After I snagged a visitor spot, I grabbed the arrangement and made my way to the apartment. Nina had chosen such a lovely combination of flowers: red roses, lilies, and pink and white daisies. I kept my nose close to the roses and breathed in their fragrance as I walked.
When I reached the door, I couldn’t help but wonder who was on the other side. My heart pounded inside my chest. I held my breath and knocked. A baby cried. I waited.
Finally, a large girl wearing sweats and a stained, pale blue T-shirt opened the door. She was young. Like my age young. She cradled the crying baby in her arms, while the angry infant punched and kicked the air. The girl stuck her pinky in the baby’s mouth, quieting the baby’s cries for a moment.
“Are you Maddie?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I’m from Full Bloom, and these flowers are for you!”
She looked at the arrangement, then back at me, like she didn’t quite believe it.
I kept talking. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who they’re from. The card says ‘a friend.’ Can I come in and set them down, since you’ve got your hands full?”
She pushed the door open wider with her body, and stood to the side so I could walk past her. I glanced around for a place to put the arrangement. The kitchen’s countertop was covered with dirty dishes.
Past the kitchen was a square card table with junk all over it. I pushed a pizza box along with an empty formula container aside and set the flowers down.
The baby started crying again. Maddie closed her eyes, took a breath, and opened them.
“Thanks,” Maddie yelled over the baby’s cries. “They’re . . . pretty.”
That was my cue to leave. The flowers had been delivered. My job was done.
And yet, something pulled at me. My job didn’t feel complete. I mean, she didn’t seem happy.
“I know this is going to sound weird,” I said, “but is there something I can do for you? Like, anything?”
Tears sprang to her eyes. She flipped the baby up onto her shoulder and bounced him around. Or was it a girl? I couldn’t tell. She looked at the floor, biting her lip. I could tell that she wanted to say no, that everything was fine. But she knew that I knew she’d be lying.
“I need formula,” she finally said. I could barely hear her as the baby cried. “He can’t eat flowers, you know?”
It was a boy. A hungry little boy.
“Let me go get you some.” I picked up the empty formula can. “Do you want this kind again?”
She nodded, a tear slowly making its way down her cheek.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
As I rushed out the door, she called out, “Thank you!”
Her words replayed in my head. “He can’t eat flowers, you know?”
It was getting dark. I’d be late for dinner. Again. Dean would chew me out. Well, maybe he’d let a baby go hungry, but I sure couldn’t.
stuck
I LUCKED OUT. DEAN WASN’T HOME, SO I MADE MYSELF DINNER and took it to my room. I turned on my laptop and checked e-mail. Nathan had sent me one. I groaned as I opened it reluctantly. I thought we’d had a deal.
It read:
I’m really sorry, Rae. He got the best of me. It won’t happen again. I need you so much. You’re all I have.
He’d included a link. I clicked through to one of my favorite Foo Fighters songs, “Best of You.” It’s a song that makes you want to stand up and fight, no matter how much pain you might be in. I was glad Nathan had found it. I’d often listen to it when I was feeling down, to remind myself that maybe I couldn’t control everything that happened around me, but I could control how I reacted. Maybe it’d help Nathan like it helped me.
After that I did some homework, wrote a new poem, and read the book Leo had given me. Around ten I started getting ready for bed.
I’d just gotten back from the bathroom, my face clean and my teeth brushed, when Mom came barging into my room.
“Where is he?” she yelled. “Where’s Dean?”
“How should I know? I’m not his keeper, Mom. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
She paced my room, still wearing her blue Rite Aid smock.
“Something’s going on. I can feel it. He keeps disappearing and not telling me where he’s going.”
I sat down on my bed. “You know he took most of my paycheck yesterday?”
She stopped. “It’s because we need it, Rae. We’re hurting something fierce.”
“But what if he’s just drinking it away?”
My mom looked so old. Like years of stress and unhappiness were pulling on her skin. She wasn’t even forty yet, but you’d never know it. She stood there, panicked over a man who’d done nothing but treat both of us badly. And yet, to her, it was better than being alone.
“He’s not drinking it away,” she spit out. “He wouldn’t do that. He knows we need the money to pay bills.”
“So what, then?” I asked. “Where do you think he is?”
Her bottom lip started to tremble. Was she going to cry? My mom didn’t cry much. She was usually so tough and matter-of-fact about everything. I hated how nothing seemed to matter to her. Except him. Always him.
She quietly said, “I’m worried he might be seeing someone els
e.”
I wanted to say, Good riddance. But she looked so incredibly sad, I didn’t say anything. I walked over and gave her a hug. She rested her head on my shoulder. “Mom,” I whispered. “I’m sure it’s not that. He’s just stressed. He’s probably out with friends trying to forget about it. It’s hard being unemployed, you know?”
Mother-of-pearl, has an alien taken over my body? But I felt her head nod a little bit, and I knew I’d said the right thing. It was what she needed to hear. I rubbed my hand in big circles around her back, like Grandma used to do when I was upset.
“I was thinking of Grandma today,” I told her. “Missing her.”
Mom sniffled and pulled away. “Me too. I miss her every day. She helped me be a better person. Rae, I don’t even know who I am anymore. I can’t remember the last time I was happy. How is that possible?”
“So leave him, Mom,” I said. “You have a job. I have a job. We don’t have to stay here if he makes you that miserable.”
I hadn’t even gotten all the words out when Mom’s expression changed. Before I turned around, I knew. Dean was home.
“Do I make you miserable, Joan?” he asked from the doorway. “Huh? Do I?” He walked in and grabbed her arm.
“No,” she said, trying to smile. “Rae was just joking around. You know how she can be.” She rubbed his hand. “I’m so glad you’re home. Come get a snack with me?”
I did my best to smooth things over. “She was worried about you. We didn’t know where you were.”
“I’m a big boy,” he quipped back. “I can take care of myself.”
Dean marched out, pulling her along with him.
“Good night, Mom,” I called out. Then I whispered, “When you’re ready to go, just say the word.”
poetry journal—november
THE UNWANTED GUEST
He visits when you least expect him.
You open the door and there he is.
Falling for You Page 7
