The Moments Between

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The Moments Between Page 13

by Natalie Banks


  I narrowed my eyes. It wasn’t funny to me. Not at all.

  He continued, “Once I closed the door, she came up and hugged me. She said she was just in the area and thought she’d stop by and take her favorite brother-in-law to lunch. Which of course, I informed her I was her only brother in law. She just laughed and laughed, like I was a paid comedian.”

  I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. “What did you say about going to lunch?” I insisted.

  “Of course, I told her I wasn’t going to lunch with her. And she protested profusely. Once I finally had her convinced to leave, she kissed my cheek, leaving a giant set of red lip prints on my cheek. Which of course, I didn’t notice until after she was gone. The guys followed her all the way to the elevators, trying to talk to her. Once the elevator doors closed, they came running back to me to get all the dibs on her. I had to field questions for a half of an hour!

  And don’t worry, I told them there was nothing going on between us, and that Mandi just wanted what she couldn’t have. But boy did they ever give me a hard time, especially over the lip marks on my cheek. I don’t think I will ever live that one down.” Ben’s face was red with laughter.

  My brain was swirling as I pushed my chair back with a loud screech. I quickly stormed out of the room with Ben following behind me.

  “Claire! What are you doing?”

  “I am calling her!” I shrieked.

  All the stress of the last few weeks had worn me down, and I was ready to fight.

  I picked up my phone and searched for her name.

  “God, Claire! She didn’t cause any harm. Seriously, if there was any concern about something going on between me and her, I would understand! But there’s nothing there. She’s just a broken person, can’t you see that? You need to cut her some slack.”

  “Ben, honestly, I don’t care what she is! I am sick and tired of her playing games. I’m tired of her trying to tempt you.”

  I finally found her name in my phone and clicked it.

  “But she can’t tempt me. I don’t want her. I never have and never will! Like I said at Easter, it’s actually kind of sad. You should just try to be there for your sister and not attack her. You’re a better person than this…”

  He was still talking when she answered my call.

  “Mandi?” I shouted into the phone.

  Ben turned and walked away from me, shaking his head.

  “Claire? Is that you?” Her words were slightly slurred.

  “Are you drunk?!” I shrieked.

  “I’ve had a few glasses of wine, that’s all.” She laughed.

  “Why did you go to Ben’s work today?” I demanded.

  “What’s wrong with wanting to take my brother out for lunch?” she protested.

  “He’s not your brother.”

  She laughed. “Oh yeah, brother-in-law…”

  “You have no business going to his office, Mandi! You need to stay away from my husband! I have been fed up with you hanging all over him and making a scene every time you are around him for a long time now, but going to his work, that is just beyond unacceptable. What the hell is your problem? Don’t you have enough already? You want to take what’s mine too?” I could hear my voice was shaking no matter how hard I tried to steady it.

  “Gah, Claire! Get over it already. If I wanted your husband, I could’ve had him a long time ago.” She laughed again.

  “Well, that’s where you are wrong. He would never have you! Do you not get that? He doesn’t want you! He thinks you are pathetic, Mandi! I don’t know what your damn problem is, but you had better back off because I am not going to put up with your crap any longer!”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bitch?” she exclaimed.

  “No, how about you!?”

  “Touché!” she replied.

  We sat in silence for just a minute, neither knowing what else to say. I stood in the foyer, listening to the sound of Ben getting the boys in the bed.

  Finally, Mandi spoke up.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it, Claire.”

  “Sure, you didn’t,” I replied bluntly.

  “Why can’t you just be nice?” she asked.

  “Be nice? Be nice? Are you kidding me, right now?” My voice decibel rising again.

  Mandi mumbled something to someone in the background. I assumed it was Lewis.

  “I’ve gotta go,” she said, quietly.

  “Stay away from Ben, Mandi. I’m not kidding around.” My voice stern, proud.

  After we hung up, I found Ben reading in the living room.

  I went in and quietly sat down on the couch next to him.

  “I’m sorry I got so mad. She just brings out the worst in me.”

  “You don’t say!” he half laughed.

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked, quietly.

  “No, I’m not. I just wish you wouldn’t get so worked up over her antics. And all over jealousy? I don’t get it. You just don’t realize how much I love you. Do you? I love everything about you, Claire. The way you tuck your hair behind your left ear. The way your cheeks redden when I tell a dirty joke. How you look at me like I could save the world.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I am in love with a girl who can’t see her own worth. A girl who fell into the shadow of a sister who was never competition to begin with. I just wish you could see that and stop letting her get under your skin.”

  Ben’s eyes were steady on mine. Deep down inside, I knew he was right in some ways, but after all these years of dealing with Mandi, I didn’t think things could ever change. She would never change, so how could I?

  Ben began reading again and I snuggled up next to him, still thinking about what he said.

  Mandi had always known how to push my buttons. Something that came naturally to her.

  She wanted everything that was hers and everything that was mine. She wanted it all.

  We were in high school and I had just started dating Jeremy Whittle. We’d been going out for just over a month when I invited him to come over after school. We were going to do homework together. Mom was gone to a doctor’s appointment and Mandi had cheerleading practice. I had used this opportunity to get to hang out with Jeremy, just the two of us.

  We sat together, laughing and talking, having difficulty focusing on schoolwork. I’d had a crush on Jeremy since middle school and was over the moon for him.

  Jeremy was just about to kiss me, when we heard the loud roar of a V8 engine. My heart dropped when I realized it was the sound of Mandi’s boyfriend dropping her off. She busted in the house, dropping her books by the door with a loud thud.

  I hadn’t told her about Jeremy, and she stopped in her tracks when she saw him sitting there with me. I narrowed my eyes at her, giving her a warning message, which she ignored and gave me a broad smile in return.

  “I thought you had cheerleading practice?” I asked.

  “Cancelled!” she answered.

  She skillfully turned around and bent over, taking off her shoes in deliberate slow motion. Giving Jeremy and me a full view of her pink lace panties underneath her short skirt. Jeremy’s mouth was hanging open. I elbowed him in the ribs as Mandi disappeared into her room.

  Not long after, I went into the kitchen to make some microwave popcorn for Jeremy and me. I stood waiting with the hum of the microwave as the popcorn exploded like fireworks.

  When I came back around the corner, bowls of popcorn in hand, I caught sight of them.

  Jeremy and Mandi, making out on the couch.

  “Mandi!” I screamed, dropping both the popcorn bowls on the floor. Kernels flew everywhere as Jeremy got up and ran out the door. He never spoke to me again.

  One of many painful things I had experienced, at the hand of Mandi.

  But not this time.

  Sh
e wasn’t ever going to have Ben. No matter how hard she tried, she would never win him over.

  I knew that.

  Honestly, the thing that bothered me the most was that she didn’t even really want Ben. She only wanted him because he’s mine. She would be willing to destroy my entire marriage just so she could satisfy this whim.

  I wanted to talk to Ben about it more. To explain my actions, but he wouldn’t understand. He would just tell me to let it go, as he always did. No one understood what Mandi did to me. How she made me feel…and no one ever would.

  Chapter 13

  Several weeks had passed and May was upon us. Everything outside exploded in green splendor, and the morning rushed in with a luscious breeze. I opened all of the windows to allow freshness to expel stagnant winter air from the house. The breeze billowed through the halls, lifting papers on the countertop as I hummed to myself.

  I walked out onto the front porch with a broom in hand and swept away leftover yellow pollen and watered the two ferns, flanking the door. When I finished, I took a deep breath as the wind swirled around me, making me feel like I could take flight.

  I sat down on the top step and listened to the birds singing happily. I watched a squirrel as it ran up the trunk of the old oak tree in our front yard. Its large branches spread over the driveway, making a beautiful canopy. I looked up as the sunlight sparkled down through the leaves like golden raindrops.

  I loved this old tree. Ben kept saying we needed to have the branches cut back. He said they were dangerous and could easily fall in a storm. But I protested. I couldn’t stand the thought of it being pruned. The tree was a signature part of our front yard and provided wonderful shade in the summertime. I refused to let him hire the tree trimmers. He wasn’t happy about my rebellion, but he reluctantly agreed to my veto.

  I looked over and saw Grayson’s baseball bat lying next to the hedge wall that separated us from the neighboring house. It was a tall green wall of hedges that we had one on each side of our property. It gave a sense of seclusion and privacy. Not that we really needed it.

  We had never really gotten to know any of the neighbors. We had an occasional wave from the older lady, Mrs. Parks, who lived across the street. But mostly, she completely kept to herself. This neighborhood was full of people who kept to themselves. I tried to start a neighborhood Christmas cookie swap, and the people who actually answered the door weren’t interested in participating. I pretty much gave up on connecting with anyone after that.

  I walked over to the hedge, with my eyes on the bat but stopped just short of it, startled by a rustling sound. I peered through the hedges and could make out some movement on the other side.

  “Hello?” I called out.

  I had never met the neighbors on this side of the hedge.

  I heard someone answer but couldn’t quite make it out.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t understand you…” I called to the unseen person.

  I followed along, as someone paced back and forth along the greenery, mumbling.

  I strained to see and could make out that it was an elderly man with white hair.

  He was talking, his voice muffled.

  What was he saying?

  I strained to listen.

  Suddenly, I caught a few words.

  “…watch out…” His voice, irritable. His words, hard understand.

  I could only make out bits and pieces.

  “What do you mean?” I called back to him.

  More words came into focus. “You know it’s coming…stop fighting…it can’t be stopped.”

  I could feel tears beginning to sting my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. What did you say?” The hair on the back of my neck was standing up.

  He didn’t answer.

  Was he talking about my dream? How could he possibly know?

  “Sir, what do you mean? Please tell me…” I called out.

  He responded, “You can’t stop fate…”

  His voice got even louder as he came closer, but I still couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.

  His face was next to the hedge. I could see splotches of him through the leaves. Crystal blue eyes reflecting in the sunlight.

  He shouted, “Death is coming!”

  He was mumbling again when the shock of what he said overtook me. I stepped back away from the hedge and screamed, falling over the bat that I never picked up.

  I jumped up and ran back into the house, slamming the door behind me as terror ran through my veins.

  I sat down on the floor in foyer trying to calm myself, my breath ragged and coming in rapid succession.

  Who was that man and why did he say those things to me!?

  A million thoughts ran through my head.

  And the question burned in my mind, why did every time I resolve to forget about the dream, something else happens to trigger me? I couldn’t get away from it, no matter how hard I tried.

  It felt as if the dream was pursuing me, targeting me, and I began to cry in protest.

  Teddy came in and rubbed up against me, trying to comfort me. I reached down and stroked his soft fur. He purred loudly in response.

  Time passed without my recognition as I replayed the man’s words in my head over and over again.

  I didn’t get up until I heard the phone ringing, standing on wobbly legs to answer it.

  It was Jamie calling.

  “Hey girl! So, I just have one question for you! Are you psychic now or something? I mean, seriously, did you ever call it! It’s just so crazy that you knew!” her voice was high-pitched.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, perplexed, beat down.

  Jamie laughed out loud. “What am I talking about? I am talking about Annie breaking her ankle! She fell down her front step yesterday because she tripped on a Lego! Poor thing broke it in two places. Man, you called it, sure enough. You said the trip was cancelled and well, now it is!”

  I dropped the phone, ran to the toilet, and threw up.

  I steadied my shaking hands as I made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. I strained the pasta and served it on our nicest dinnerware. I topped each plate with a generous amount of sauce and meatballs, sprinkling fresh grated parmesan over the top. Keeping my mind fixed on making the best spaghetti and meatball dinner that was ever made.

  Keeping me focused. Keeping me sane.

  There had to be an explanation for all of it. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. My life had been simple. Predictable. Now, nothing was steadfast.

  I ate my dinner in silence as the boys rattled off their day’s events. Oliver had learned how to add single digits and kept asking us to guess the answer to two plus two or three plus one. Ben kept saying the wrong answer to tease him.

  Grayson got up and brought back over a paper mâché alligator that he had made in art class. Green with brown spots. I saw Ben’s eyes light up when he saw it. He immediately began to tell them the story of the alligator that was seen in Charlotte, years ago. I knew it was a tall tale, but I let him go ahead and tell his story.

  Ben told them the alligator was spotted right in the courtyard by his office, in the middle of downtown. The courtyard was shared by several buildings and was just across the street from the train station. In the center of the courtyard was a fountain where people loved to gather to talk or eat a quiet lunch. On nice days, you would often find musicians or performers in the courtyard with their donation buckets. Hot dog stands and gyro carts littered the courtyard at lunchtime.

  This is where Ben’s fictional alligator was spotted, right by the food carts.

  Ben made roaring sounds as he told how the alligator snarled and snapped at all the people who passed by. The boys wide-eyed as he told how the dog catcher brought a net and captured the alligator in it. The boys cheered as Ben described how the m
an wrestled the alligator into the back of his van. He ended the story with the alligator being released to his family in the Florida Everglades. A happy ending for everyone.

  After the boys were in bed, I went downstairs to finish cleaning up the dishes.

  The lights were low as I washed our dishes. Warm water on my hands, my thoughts pulsing.

  Ben came in and leaned on the doorway.

  “You sure look good in this lighting,” he said. “Well, actually, you look pretty good in any lighting.”

  I turned to look at him as I dried my hands on the kitchen towel.

  “Ben, do you know the man that lives next door, to the left of us? You know, the white house with green shutters?”

  “No one lives next door that I know of,” he answered, approaching me. He had that look in his eyes. The look that said he was ready to go upstairs so we could make love. A look that I knew well.

  “There was a man there today. He said some strange things,” I persisted.

  I wasn’t interested in going upstairs. I wanted to talk about the neighbor.

  “No one lives there, Claire.” His voice has a low lusty sound to it.

  He put his arms around my waist and pulled me in, kissing my neck.

  I forcefully yanked away from him. “There was a man there today, I am telling you!”

  “Claire, dammit, I said no one lives there! That house has been vacant since we moved in! The realtor said the man that owned it died right before we bought our house. His family refuses to sell it. What’s with you tonight!?”

  The only thing that I heard him say was that the house had been vacant since we moved in. I didn’t hear the rest of what he said. I knew he had spoken to me sharply, but I didn’t care. I was already out the door, on my way to the front steps of the old man’s house.

  The night air was cool and the moon lit up the sky. Full and round, sitting just above the horizon.

  I ran, fast legs underneath me, toward his house.

  He was there today and nobody can tell me that he wasn’t! And I needed to talk him now! He needed to explain to me why he said those things!

  I stopped running when I stepped into his yard. My breath sharp as I walked toward the house. Only darkness could be seen through the windows. I stepped tentatively up onto the porch. An old set of windchimes dinged as I approached the door, weathered boards creaking underneath my feet.

 

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