Twenty-Nine #2
I heard water running as someone, probably Mia, clunked about at some chore. “I can’t tell you. My pains should go away, it sounds like his won’t. They might even get worse. You have to think about whether you can handle that.”
“I guess I do.”
After a moment Fiona jumped in, “You like the guy?”
I liked how he made my skin tingle, and my heart race.
I also liked how he stood up for his niece and he saved me, all the way.
He was determined. It wasn’t enough to get me out of the mud, he pulled my car out.
Even though he kept getting told no, he was still out pounding the pavement and learning new things to make himself better.
And under the lumberjack plaid there was a gentleness, a love of nature, and a focus on careful detail.
The lines in the drawing were exquisite.
“I like the guy.” It was almost a lie, but I wasn’t ready to admit to more.
“Then if he wants to apologize, I think you let him.” Fiona counseled.
The coffee cup warmed my fingers and I suddenly wanted Craig to be warming them instead of the ceramic mug. “I’ll call him.”
“No,” Mia snapped. “You’re not a doormat.
He walked out on you, whatever the reason.
But if things were as good as you say they were, it’s worth letting him have another chance.
But he clearly has his own stuff to sort out and you are not responsible for that.
Be there, and be willing, but he needs to come to you. And apologize.”
“Thanks for calling.” If Mia hadn’t called, I’d still be wallowing on the couch.
“Throw me a baby shower and we’ll call it even. I know Fiona is planning something, but she is going to make a big production which I just can’t handle right now.”
“Hey,” Fiona retorted.
“Fiona and I can handle it,” I conceded. We hung up on each other and I finished my coffee.
The day was well on its way, and the sun had burned off yesterday’s overcast sky. Spring might have finally arrived. It left a bright patch on the linoleum which was warm under my bare feet.
With some perspective, last night wasn’t perfect, but it was good.
Everything has its rough spots. The question is are they worth polishing?
Despite the good food I still had dishes.
I filled the sink and set things to soak.
Then I tackled the bedroom. The sheets were clean but last night was too close and I didn’t want to lay down in this might-have-been bed.
Stripping the bedding I threw everything in the laundry machine.
Everything just needed a good wash, including me.
I set my phone where I could hear it and let the water sluice over me.
Did he have a scar on his back? I hadn’t seen it, but I hadn’t been looking for it.
What happens when he doesn’t wear the brace?
He’d bounced from one wall to the next on his way out.
As I washed my feet, I wondered what Craig thought about his brace?
I’d hated braces on my teeth but they’d stopped me grinding my pearly whites flat, though I’m pretty sure they cost me a kiss from my middle school boyfriend.
Ronnie Boyle was afraid of getting cut on my braces and broke up with me when his friends started asking what my lip gloss tasted like.
Stupid boys. I was so angry. I went out of my way to tell Monica Chandlers that Ronnie was a bad dancer and kissed like a horse, knowing Monica would tell everyone.
I’d been mean, but I’d just been afraid that I’d never have another boyfriend.
Ronnie was afraid. I was afraid. I’d been afraid and acted angry.
Was Craig afraid? If so, what was he afraid of?
Embarrassment? Not being strong? Afraid of how I would react?
If he had stayed after his body went wrong, how would I have reacted?
I don’t know. Remembering his wet eyes as I took off his brace, I hoped I’d be understanding.
Or was he just fearful of who he was now?
Dressing, I changed the laundry and finished the dishes, the pan, plates and knives.
There’s always a risk of getting cut when you get close, could I handle that?
Craig’s picture was still on the counter.
He’d made the picture frame too. The gray weathered wood fit the subdued colors of my house.
Picking up the frame I wandered about, holding it up to the walls.
I had too much stuff. Knick-knacks from trips, photos from mom and friends, everything was already arranged. It already fit together.
The round red life preserver hanging on the wall was the front room’s accent piece, the splash of color, in the nautical theme.
But it didn’t have to be. Taking it down I replaced it with Craig’s picture.
The colors didn’t demand attention but the textures did.
The open expressive grain of the frame coupled with the twisted image of the tree pulled the eye.
It gave the whole room a finished feel, much more than my attempt at an accent color could.
It was interesting and exciting. I wouldn’t have chosen it, but it definitely improved the decor.
Before I put the sheets back on the bed, I bagged up some clothes from the back of the closet I didn’t think I’d wear again and some books I knew I wouldn’t read.
I put the life preserver, clothes and books in the trunk of my car to take to the thrift store.
If I made an effort there was room to find out where things could go.