Chapter 33
Candace
“Is that?” Court bunches her eyebrows, looking around for the source. “Peter Gabriel?” She asks, doing a one-eighty in my kitchen.
“Yeah, it must be eight already. Right on schedule.” I say, keeping my tone even, acting like I’m not aware of the happenings in my yard.
“What’s right on schedule?” She asks, peeking through the window leading to the backyard. “Where’s it coming from?”
“Outside.” I point to the front yard, then return my attention to the multicolored poster board advertising the new lunch menu.
“You’re joking? Homegirl is out there serenading you with a boombox and you’re in here ignoring her to do crafts? Is this some sort of tribute to the eighties foreplay?” She jokes, moving the curtains to get a better look.
“No,” I mutter, adding more pink to the bubble letters. ”She started a couple of nights ago after our disagreement. The neighbors complained at first, but they left her alone once she turned the volume down.”
“You know people go their entire lives without a grand gesture like this, just saying.”
“I think it’s her way of giving me some time. I get this feeling she’s here with me without being in the room.” Dusting off the leftover glitter, I proudly hold up the poster. “What do you think? Cute right?” I show Courtney who’s more interested in the one-man show.
“I think you’re crazy for not running out there and belting love ballads with your girl.” She says, gesturing to the scene out front.
“Mom’s coming over in twenty minutes to borrow my Chanel blazer, so unless you want a run in, I suggest you call it a night. I was about to go warn Nat.” I mention, scooping up the poster to dry on the kitchen table, instead of my counter top.
Her lips purse, stopping her from saying anything else. “Call me later?” She asks, grabbing her purse and the leftover spaghetti from dinner.
Nat’s perched against my fence, feet tapping along to the pop song. “I didn’t realize “Easy Lover” was on the Say Anything soundtrack.”
Turning down the music, she looks up at me with a solemn expression. Not excited to see me, but not disappointed either. “I was falling asleep and needed a pick me up. I didn't think you were educated in the arts.”
“That movie came out when I was in college, living in a dorm full of girls. Trust me, that’s one reference I know. Listen, my mom’s on her way over. You’re welcome to stay, but I didn’t want to blindside you.”
Packing up her blanket and extra coat, she sits up, dusting off her black jeans. “Hope you enjoyed the show.” She shrugs, her sad expression resembling a lost puppy. “I just wanted to be near you. I’m not trying to get in the way. Figured your front yard was better than nothing.”
Grabbing her boombox, with her one free hand she walks to her car. “Hey.” I call out before she reaches the door. “I wouldn’t mind hearing more Phil Collins.”
She gave a wary smile and opened the door. “I’ll make a note on the request line.”
“I think this is a mistake,” Court repeats for the third time on the phone while I pull up some nude-colored nylons.
“It’s one date, and if it means everyone will get off my back for a minute, then it’ll be worth it.” I reassure her, unable to convince even myself.
Looking around at my bathroom disaster, I’m disappointed I let it get this bad. It’s been five nights since Nat was in my bed and everything is already falling apart. I’m having trouble sleeping, can’t find my curling iron, and I’ve tried on three new dresses that don’t seem to fit right.
“It’s time to tell everyone to go to hell and move on. You’ve got plenty of your own money, and you and the girls will be fine. I’ve told you a million times you’re all welcome to stay with me until you get on your feet. I promise everything will be fine. You do not need to do this.”
“I absolutely do. Everything’s on the verge of being taken away if I don’t. I won’t have my girls' lives stripped of all their stuff.”
“This isn’t about stuff, and you know it.
This is about fear and nothing else. You’re scared shitless of Nat and even more of losing her.
You’re scared to stand up to mom and dad even though they’ve told you countless times what a disappointment you are.
And you’re scared to look helpless in front of the man who chose someone else. ”
My nylons rip just as I pull the sheer material over my left calf, and I scream, throwing my phone across the room.
It never ends: the constant pressure, critics, voices in my head telling me how badly I’m screwing up.
I’m a negligent mom because I’m dating instead of spending every waking minute with my girls.
My husband left me for someone younger and perkier because I got old and didn’t drop everything for sex.
My parents still control my life because I’ve never been brave enough to tell them off.
Even the women in the PTA look down and pity me for being the lonely spinster unable to keep a man happy.
“Candace!” I hear Court yelling from across the bathroom. The phone landed on the carpet and thankfully didn’t suffer any damage from my outburst. That’d be one more thing I'd have to add to my list of frustrations this week.
“I’m here. You don’t know the stuff he said to me.
Calling this a psychotic break and saying I’m acting out because of the divorce.
Maybe he’s right, Greg’s midlife crisis was a petite blonde who works at Nordstrom.
Mine is an angry woman who teaches English to high schoolers and listens to scary music.
I don’t know what else to do. I’ve never experienced such a lack of control.
Taking the night to eat a nice dinner and reassess won't hurt anyone.” My sister’s absolutely right, and I have a nagging feeling in my gut that I’m making a huge mistake.
“Bet you fifty bucks this is killing Nat. What’d she say when you explained this so-called date? I doubt she handled it well. I’ve met that girl, and she’s not someone I’d want to piss off.”
“I didn’t tell her.” Looking back at my reflection makes me sick. I never told Nat because I knew how she’d react, it’d be a bloodbath. If I can just make it through tonight then maybe tomorrow I’ll have a clear head.
“Wasn’t she just at your house with a stereo professing her love, like a fucking rom-com. Candace, you know I’ll always have your back, but it’s time to piss or get off the pot, excuse my French. Dating all of Dad’s business partners won’t decide for you, it’s all on you.”
The decision to go out tonight made sense at first. Do this one thing for dad and in return, it’d show I’m really interested in Nat and not just acting foolishly.
Knowing Nat was just here playing my love hits from the past makes me regret ever agreeing to it.
For now, I’ve got to shove those feelings aside and do what I set out to do.
Everything will go back to normal if I can just make the harmless sacrifice.
“Alright, well I’m on my way to grab the girls and I’ll keep them overnight so you can call her when you get home. I’ve gotta warn you though I doubt mom and dad are gonna back off so easily, I hope you have a backup plan.”
Unfortunately, I don't. I’m betting everything on this working out in my favor. Giving in to my dad for just tonight has got to work, right? He’ll see that I’ve tried and I can move on in peace without any further doubts.
“See you soon,” I say before hanging up and ripping off the ruined nylons to find new ones.
Before I can make it back to the closet, bile rises in my throat and I barely make it to the toilet to empty my stomach. My nerves are shot, I'm sweating, and the acid boiling inside me is burning a hole in my throat. I can’t do this. When did I become such a brain-dead puppet?
My date pulls up right on time, along with someone else I wasn’t expecting. Everything moves from zero to one hundred in less than a second, and there’s no time to process or explain. My immediate response is to go on the defense and hope I survive.
She parks directly next to Lance and gets out in a hurry, rushing over to me piecing this together. Inside my heart is breaking, knowing I should’ve explained this or just broken things off sooner.
“Nat, we can talk tomorrow,” I calmly explain, walking towards Lance and praying she doesn’t cause a scene.
“No, we're talking right now. Is this a date? Come on, that guy looks like he irons his jeans. What are you doing?” She reaches out grabbing my arm, but I push her away.
“This is Lance. He works with my dad. We’re going to get dinner and you and I can discuss this further tomorrow, but please let me go,” my tone is stern, and right then I realize I used my mom voice instead of one of a loving partner.
“Where are the girls? There’s no way they’re cool with this. They’d hate this guy,” she says, eyeing his checkered button-up with a smirk.
“They’re at my sister's house for the night.” Her glare turns deadly, and the acid in my stomach threatens to make its way out again.
Natalie
All I see is red. A dark, bloody red, the kind the studio uses to make horror movies look realistic.
If only they could make this scene a little less realistic.
The darkness overtaking me prevents me from seeing Candace, and her soft curls as she stands in front of me.
The rage is spilling inside me like a flesh-eating bacteria, devouring me alive.
She’s got to be kidding. She’s not even that funny, but this has to be a joke.
There’s no way she’s about to get into a tan sedan with Lance, the divorcee who has pee stains on his Calvin's and probably cries when he comes. No way she wants that guy because she wants me. I know she does. She’s being stupid and selfish, and I’m done watching.
“Don’t do this. Don’t leave me like this. Please don't do this. I promise you’ll regret this,” I growl, staring her down, keeping my focus right on her twitching eyes.