| |
Monday, all the stars are back in place, but nothing shines.
I’m feeling lower than I’ve ever felt and missing something I never wanted. I get a call from Dr. Anderson. Good news, everything is on schedule...her father is coming here to live with her, so I’m free to go back to the city after we close. She’ll be rolling into town in another hour or two.
It should be good news. Living in Brazen Bay now is out of the question.
I can’t believe I let myself fall in love with someone who clearly didn’t want me. Again.
It’s better this way. She’ll move on. Find someone who doesn’t try to take down her stars.
When I get home to my apartment in Seattle that evening, my mother is just leaving after having watered my plants. She follows me back into my place. The air is stale, but my mail is stacked neatly on the kitchen counter. My plants are thriving. And well, that’s really it. That’s how easily I can walk out of my life for weeks at a time.
“Thanks for taking care of things here, Mom.”
She looks me over in that way that mothers do. “What’s wrong, son?”
Nothing. Everything.
“Do you want tea?”
She shakes her head. “You’re troubled by something.”
I suppose that is one way to describe it. “How did you and Dad make your marriage work?”
“What do you mean?” She sits down on the tan sofa. That’s on the tan carpet. In the room with tan walls. Damn, everything is so neutral. Not just my apartment. My life. Nothing goes forward or backward. I’m just idling through it.
“You’re so different from each other.”
“Son, that’s why it works.”
“You fought all the time. Maybe you still do.”
“Your father and I are very passionate people. We’re better about communicating now. I know it bothered you when you were a child, and I’m sorry. Children don’t come with a manual. Hell, neither does marriage. And your father is an obstinate fool, of course.” She still gets a goofy grin when talking about my dad. “Lord, that man. Are you having woman troubles?”
I join her on the couch, a sudden need to be near her. To feel comfort from my mother in a way I haven’t in a long time. “I thought I knew what I wanted. But there’s this woman...”
She picks up my hand. “It’s about time.”
“Mom.” She squeezes my hand gently. “I think I ruined it.”
“Tell me about her,” she encourages.
“She’s infuriating. Messy. Erratic. Colorful, dazzling actually. Surprising. Remarkable. Wonderful.”
She laughs. “So why do you think you ruined it?”
“Well, I was myself. Predictable. Plodding. Dull. Colorless. Stella, that’s her name, is so different from me. The way she talks circles and surrounds herself with colorful chaos. And shiny things. Mom, you should see her when something shiny catches her eye. She’s drawn to it. I’m the opposite of shiny.”
“Oh, Christopher. You’ve always been shiny to me.”
“You’re my mother. You’re biased.”
“Probably. You still haven’t told me how you ruined it.”
Her eyes are brilliant with excitement, not compassion. I think she isn’t taking this seriously. Like she thinks she can matchmake me back into Stella’s good graces. “Well, for starters, she broke up with me on the dance floor of her brother’s wedding reception. And I let her. I didn’t try to stop her, even though I know I’m in love with her.”
Her eyes grow round at that admission. “Wow. Did you have a fight? I’m trying to imagine you arguing in public and I just can’t.”
“Well, then you probably won’t believe me when I tell you I was in bar brawl Friday night.”
“What?”
“Some guy said some unflattering things about Stella, so I hit him.”
“Christopher, my word, what’s gotten into you?”
“See? That’s what I mean. Stella brings out a lot of things inside me that I don’t like. But she also makes me feel...”
“Feel what, sweetheart?”
“Everything. She makes me feel everything. Good and bad. I can’t find my equilibrium with her.”
“Is that how you felt about Heather?”
I inhale a shocked breath. Nobody talks about Heather around me. My instinct is to get up, get off this couch, and go workout or run. Anything to get away from this conversation with my mother that we never had. Not once.
But maybe we should.
“I haven’t examined my feelings about Heather. I closed that door and I don’t want to open it again.”
“Christopher, you’re not a coward. Open the door and have a look.”
I close my eyes. Imagine Heather. Pretty. Charming. Intelligent.
Had she ever stirred me the way Stella does? I loved Heather, at least I thought I did. When she broke my heart, it was enough to keep me from opening it again. But did she make me feel the same as I feel about Stella?
I shake my head. “No. I cared enough about Heather to ask her to marry me, but I never felt my world was upside down when I was with her.”
“You’re not going to like what I have to say, son. But I’m going to say it anyway. The reason you closed yourself off from love wasn’t because Heather didn’t return your feelings. It was because you were humiliated. It isn’t fear of love that’s imprisoned you. It’s your pride.”
She’s wrong. I wanted to marry Heather, share my life with her. And she...shit. She humiliated me. She may not have meant to cause lasting damage. She was right to say no to a marriage proposal she didn’t want, and I’ve never looked all that closely at how that must have affected her also. She was in that viral video as much as I was, and she got blindsided by the whole thing. At least I knew what was going on.
“I can see your wheels turning, so I’m going to let you spend some time with your deep thoughts. Besides, your father and I have a class tonight.”
I get up with her and walk her to the door. “What class?”
Her eyes dart to the side. “It’s actually more of an activity than a class.”
“Why do I not want to ask you to elaborate, Mother?”
She raises her palms with her shoulder shrug. “Naked gardening.”
“What? Did you just say—?”
“It’s not sexy. It’s about connecting to the earth and clearing your energy. You know your father and I have been exploring nudism.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I keep trying to block it out, but you keep reminding me.”
“Well, a group of us meet on a private, secluded estate, and we weed flower beds in the nude. It’s very refreshing.”
I close my eyes. Stella would love her. Adore her really. She’d probably want to do the naked gardening too. And I’m increasingly uncomfortable with the idea. “Thanks for watering my plants. Have fun at your class. Give my best to Dad.”
She stops in the doorway and turns back to me, palming my cheek. “You deserve to be happy, Christopher. Please let yourself.”
When she’s gone, I try to resist the urge, but finally give in and power up my computer, finding the file I’m looking for pretty easily.
The video starts playing, and I’m thrown back into the head and heart of a young, stupid man again. Me. Or at least the man I used to be. The music starts. “Ain’t No Other Man.” There I am. Zoot suit from the ‘20s. Fedora. Lip-synching. Dancing an awkwardly choreographed number. In a food court at the mall where we met. Jesus. Friends join in. Heather’s brother and sister. Her parents. My parents. There I am on my knee. Opening a ring box. Cameras on both of us because we’re being filmed for a cable show called Marry Me Flashmob. There’s Heather’s stunned face. There’s the close-up of me as the realization hits me for the first time that she might say no.
I look...young. Stupid. Weak.
Camera zooms to Heather. She looks...regretful. Sad. Embarrassed.
The show aired this clip, of course. They had the right to. It was good TV, right? I’d signed the contract. No way out.
But it wasn’t just the show that aired the clip.
I got invited to all the late-night talk shows after it went viral. I was known as the “Ain’t No Way Man.” I declined the TV appearances, of course. But it was a public trial, and I was judged as the idiot who had no idea his girlfriend wasn’t in love with him. That’s what she told me. On camera.
I vowed to not ever face that again. The humiliation. The broken heart. Crushed dreams. I know I’m just not built for that. And life has been easier ever since I decided not to let myself get that close to anyone again. Not to express how I feel inside. Not to hope for anything.
I watch the video again, thinking it will help me stay strong, to know that life with Stella would be my worst nightmare. Never-ending opportunities for YouTube fail videos. I pause on my close-up this time, trying to remember that feeling so I never feel it again.
But I don’t think I looked weak now. I think...I think I looked brave.
I was willing to risk a lot. I was bolder then. Since that day, I’ve been auditing my life instead of engaging in it.
Wasting it, really.
I don’t want to die in a tan apartment, alone and scared of feeling anything. I want color and sparkle and unpredictable chaos in my life.
I want Stella in my life.
My heart is thumping a hundred miles an hour as regret fills my stomach.
If I’d have stayed on that dance floor... we would have spent the night together Saturday. And we’d have been making love all weekend.
And then I might have been brave enough to tell her what I’ve known since that day she careened into my life.
I hope it’s not too late.