28. Opal
TWENTY-EIGHT
Opal
Five years later
“ B ye, Tiffany.” I wave goodbye to my boss before walking out the door, she doesn’t respond, as per usual. She isn’t the most friendly, but I like the simplicity and flexibility of my job, so I try my best to ignore the sour attitude she usually has.
I’m the bookkeeper for a small, locally owned bakery, Heaven Scent. Most days I get to sit in the back all day and crunch numbers. Occasionally I’ll fill in for other positions in the front of house, which isn’t my favorite, but there are certainly worse places to work. The free cupcakes keep me from complaining too much.
Main Street is empty, save for a few older people shopping or sitting on benches. It’s a typical March afternoon, warm and balmy, promising to bring hotter temperatures soon.
After last night’s newspaper debacle, I made plans to see Ian this evening. I immediately regretted my decision to dig deeper into the mystery of Alex’s face in the newspaper, but I’m sure I would have heard about his return one way or another regardless. Hopefully spending time with Ian will distract my mind from thoughts of him, at least for a little while. I just need to keep myself occupied until he leaves, which I’m sure he will soon.
Ian is a good guy. Well, he’s an okay guy. There’s nothing wrong with Ian, but there’s also nothing incredibly amazing to write home about either. He’s good-looking, nice enough, and has a stable job. He’s a little wishy-washy, but honestly I don’t mind, because I am too.
Ever since Alex left, I haven’t been able to let myself fall for someone else. Either that, or I just haven’t found someone that pulls those feelings out of me since then. In some ways I think I’m ruined when it comes to love. Maybe my first love burned too brightly, dooming all of my future relationships to a fate of mediocrity. I don’t know.
Either way, he’s fine for passing the time and distracting me from the monotony of my life.
Even if my brain does conjure up images of Alex’s face when we kiss sometimes, hard as I try to tell it not to.
I make the short walk from work to Ian’s downtown apartment. It’s small and older, located in a brick building with three other units. He’s waiting for me in the doorway when I make my way up the stairs. He’s shirtless, wearing nothing but basketball shorts and a pair of Nike slide sandals.
“How was work?” he asks before taking a sip of his Budweiser.
I walk past him and he shuts the door behind me. “Not bad. We were crazy busy last week so I had a ton of work to get caught up on, and we just hired a new person so I had to help get all of their paperwork entered into the system.”
He sits down in his recliner and then pulls me into his lap, gripping my bare thigh before flipping on the tv. The channel is set to ESPN, as always. Ian is nothing if not predictable. I think that’s probably the main reason I decided to date him, actually. I feel like I’ve had enough tumultuousness in relationships for one lifetime. He is 100% even keel. Born and raised in Willow Grove with no plans of leaving.
He’s also the opposite of Alex in every way. His curly brown hair and dark, almond shaped eyes remind me nothing of my ex. I’m thankful for that.
Maisie introduced us about a year ago, probably hoping that I’d fall madly in love with him and leave behind all of my heartbreak and memories of Alex. That didn’t end up happening, but he was cute and nice enough that I agreed to this arrangement. We sleep together, grab dinner sometimes, talk about our day, but it doesn’t go further than that. He says he doesn’t want anything serious with anyone, and as badly as I miss having a serious relationship, I don’t think my heart will ever allow for it to happen again.
“How was yours?”
He shrugs. “Long and hot,” he takes another sip of beer. He’s not much for small talk, we certainly don’t have deep conversations either, but sometimes just having company is nice. I can’t deny it, I’ve been lonely.
He tips my head up to kiss me, and his lips move over mine the same way they always have. “Do you want to spend the night?”
“Sure,” I nod, forcing a tight smile. We’ve had sex several times, although probably not as many as most couples would after seeing each other for this long. But right now I don’t think I could bring myself to do it, not when Alex’s proximity has been so heavy on my mind all day.
After dinner we lay in bed together, he’s watching some reruns of a sitcom that doesn’t interest me in the least. His hand rests between my legs, and I softly roll onto my side so that I’m not facing him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “It was just a long day, I’m pretty tired.” I glance over my shoulder at him to see the disappointment all over his dark features.
I feel guilty. I’m using him, and I know that in a way he’s using me too, but we use each other in totally different ways. He wants sex with no real strings attached, but I just want comfort in the form of a warm, distracting body.
“No problem, get some rest.” He kisses me on the forehead, and I try not to cringe when it reminds me a little too much of a boy who used to do the same thing.
My eyes crack open, the only light in this dark room is an alarm clock with glowing red numbers that reads 4:39 AM. I snuggle closer, my back pushing up against his chest, then I pause. Suddenly I realize where I am. Ian’s soft, burly chest doesn’t match the stiffer one from my dream.
I hate when this happens. I’ll dream about Alex and it takes a moment for reality to hit me after I’ve woken up. Gently and quietly, I remove his arm from around me and tip-toe out of bed. He’s still sound asleep thankfully.
It wouldn’t hurt to head home now anyway, I can relieve Martha a little early, I’m sure she’ll be happy about that. After a year of taking care of my grandmother alone, we had to hire a part-time caregiver to help out. It was too much doing it all on my own, and my mom’s busy work schedule has only gotten busier.
Turning the key in the lock, I quietly step inside. Martha is sitting on the lay-z-boy reading her Kindle in the dark, and Mamaw is next to her sleeping on the couch. I let her know that she’s free to head home, she looks relieved and exhausted, her brown eyes outlined by dark circles.
Mamaw doesn’t stir, she’s clearly exhausted too. She’s still clear as day cognitively, which I thank god for every day, but physically she’s gone downhill. Doing simple tasks like getting dressed or bathing are impossible for her to do alone, despite how stubbornly she tries to refuse my help even still.
I feel like my life is just three scenes on repeat, day in and day out.
Take care of Mamaw, work, and if I feel up to it I’ll hang out with Maisie or Ian.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for everything I have. But sometimes, I just wish something would happen. Something that would make my life a little bit more interesting.
It’s still dark outside, so I crawl into bed, imagining what could possibly make my life different, if just slightly. But sleep overtakes me before I can think of anything.