Chapter 30 Harrison – A pale future
O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven
Hamlet, William Shakespeare
Ten years later
“Harrison, I'm not getting any younger. I'd like a grandchild sometime this century,” my mother scolded.
Mom had still never really let go of Cordy, I suppose because she was my last serious relationship.
The only one I'd had potential with for a real future. I had short relationships every now and then. Most women seemed to move on after a month or so. I’d proposed to Leisel, but she'd laughed.
When she saw I was serious, she became sympathetic but looked at me like I was somehow delusional.
We'd dated for two months, and I felt like she was the one, but obviously, that wasn't reciprocated.
She ghosted me after that. Women my age could be very judgmental but younger women didn't seem to be interested in me.
I flicked through my phone, doing my usual Cordy check.
Her social media was locked down, but she ran a renovation blog and often posted pictures.
She had two boys with that fuckstick neighbor Damon.
They were cute kids, but they always seemed to have messy hair or dirt on their faces.
Would it kill her to wipe them down for a photo?
I mean, sure they were usually in the background of a garden or new room she was showing, but still.
Cleanliness is important. She hadn't married him right away.
She had the first kid and was pregnant with the second at her wedding.
I would have done it properly. I would have proposed to her, married her and then made her a mother. This guy obviously had no class.
“Calm down, Mom. Women are so fickle, it's not like I'm not trying.” We were making our way through an art exhibition.
“Oh, that one is pretty,” she said, pulling me toward a woman with shoulder-length dark hair.
Her back was facing us, but she was in great shape, and she was wearing very classy corporate clothing.
It was embarrassing having my mother wingman me, but I let her do it anyway.
Dating apps were useless and I always felt like an elderly outcast at trendy bars.
“Excuse me miss, I'd love for you to meet my son.”
The woman turned. Was I the unluckiest man in the world?
“Hello, Embarrison,” Miranda deadpanned.
She was older. Of course she was older. I hadn't seen her in a decade.
She looked amazing. After monumentally blowing up my life, I moved a few hours away, where Brian's words hadn't spread and I wasn't on any Neighborhood Watch potential sex offender lists.
After working briefly at a rival pharmacy and seeing Cordy pick up her birth control, I needed to get away.
I'd come back last year when my dad died.
“Miranda,” I greeted. This woman had made my life hell. I guess I deserved it at the time, but nothing she ever did or could ever do would be a greater punishment than losing Cordy. Our life had been comfortable, and she really had loved me.
“Mrs. Watts, so good to see you. I am so sorry to hear of Mr. Watts' passing last year.” At least she was kind to my mother, I guess.
“Thank you dear. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. How are you? How is Cordelia?”
“She's terrific. Her boys are amazing and she's so happy with Damon.”
Ok, Miranda. Knife me in the heart for old time’s sake.
“That's wonderful. She always was a good girl. Oh, they have Pierre Auguste pieces over there. I'll be right back.” Mom wandered off, leaving me with an amused-looking Miranda.
“You still hate me?” I asked her.
“I don't think of you enough to hate you, Harrison. None of us think of you at all.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I have my own stand. I'm the resident artist at Modern Classics.”
“Oh, congratulations. Any more homoerotic zombie work?”
She gave a genuine laugh. “No, I never ended up going down that path, but I would have smashed it for sure. My debut work in that genre was a classic. I did sculpt a few dicks though.”
I didn't know what to say to that. I never knew if she was messing with me or not.
“You married?” I asked.
“Yes.” She offered no further information. I guess I was still the enemy.
“Are you going to drink that coffee?” She looked down at the cup in my hand. What had she done to it? Had she seen me come in and slipped the barista some cash to mess with it? “No, I'm not thirsty anymore.” She wouldn't get the satisfaction of thinking her coffee plot worked.
She shrugged. “Whatever. Hey, are you still driving that gray car?” How did she know what car I drove? Was she still hell bent on revenge? Maybe she was the reason no woman dated me for long.
“Yes,” I replied, eying her warily. I'd have to check the car when we got back to it. Mom would be annoyed, but I wasn't going to take any chances. I ended up having to sell the Liquid Ass car at a steep discount. I had to end this interaction before she burrowed any further under my skin.
“Well, say hi to Cordy for me.”
“Nah. Gotta go. Oh, one more question, are you still an asshole, Harrison?”
Was I? I didn't think I was, but apparently the female population of this town, maybe even this state, thought I was. I didn’t answer her.
“Just remember, Embarrison, I've still got the keys to the karma bus.” Before I could answer, she disappeared into the crowd.
The run in with Miranda got me thinking about that time in my life.
When I'd felt secure and settled but thrown it away for lust. Emma was cute and sweet, but it was lust. I wasn't an egotistical man, so it can't have been that.
I wonder what Emma was doing now. When we broke up, we were in a very toxic environment, and she struggled with that.
She'd be in her early 30s now, with quite a few child-bearing years left. Yes, maybe Emma would want another try.
After dropping Mom off and returning home, I flicked through Insta trying to find Emma.
I couldn't find her, so I looked up her sister and found her in a tagged photo.
She looked amazing! So beautiful. Clicking on the tag, I found her under the name Emma Raglan.
Okay, so she'd got married. Maybe she was divorced.
Scrolling down her feed was depressing. She wasn't divorced.
She was married to a pastor. All her messages were about "doing good" and “repenting.” So many of her photos were of her doing volunteer work with her pathetic-looking husband.
Pastors didn't earn that much. She had definitely traded down from me.
She had a buttload of kids too. Ugh, why don't people wipe their kids' faces?
I could almost feel the stickiness through the screen.
Well, at least she didn't stay with Stefan.
I hated that guy. I still saw him occasionally, and he even came into my work once and gave me a gift.
I thought he was apologizing for stealing Emma, but he'd given me a pair of toddler gloves.
"Gonna be cold this winter," he observed pleasantly, like he hadn't fucked my girlfriend and constantly insulted my masculinity.
I put my phone down and sighed. I was lonely.
Life was passing me by. All day I stood at a desk dispensing medication, only to come home and sit on my own, occasionally visiting my mother to hear what a disappointment I was.
Eventually, my mom would be gone and then what?
I had no siblings. I didn't even have pets.
The few friends I had were married and settled, so they weren't around a lot.
This was my life I guess, and I should be happy with it.
Through bitter experience, I've learned that the grass was not always greener, so maybe I should just stay on my side even if the grass was dead.
I picked up my phone again and opened a dating app.
Laura, 25, dental nurse. Hmm, she looked promising.
I'd have to reapply my tan before I met her though. I hated looking pale.