Rainy Days: A Collection of Short Stories Volume 1

by Angela Prince

  She looked at the clock on the wall, it was nearly time for the wedding to start. As if on cue there came a knock at the door. A little tap-tap-tap that could only belong to her mother.

  “I'm ready” she called out trying to convince herself more than the person on the other side of the door.

  She tucked the postcard back into the drawer and went to the door. She opened it to find her mother looking down at her watch, an anxious look on her face.

  “Hurry, it's time to start,” her mother said. “You don't want to keep everyone waiting do you?” Her mother didn't wait for an answer.

  Before Ginger knew it her mother had taken her by the elbow and was half leading, half dragging her down the hallway to the sanctuary entrance. She struggled to keep up in her heels. She met up with her father and they watched her mother be escorted to her seat. The bridesmaids followed in their hideous dresses. She looked at her father and they both giggled. The girls looked ridiculous in pink tulle and huge bows. Next, the flower girl made her way slowly, gently tossing rose petals along the path that she would take next. The music started to play. That was her cue to make her way to the alter. She hooked her arm in her dad's and began the slow walk to where her future husband was waiting.

  Breathe. Don't tip. Pretend no one is watching. She chanted silently to herself, though she knew that everyone was staring at her. She was midway down the aisle when she heard a whisper come from beside her.

  “Keys are in the ignition. Just give the signal and I can have it ready to go before anyone knows what hit them.” she stifled a laugh, and was caught so off guard by her father's remark that she stumbled and nearly tripped.

  Luckily her dad caught her and righted her before anyone else took notice. She dared a look in her mother's direction. She was giving Ginger a this-is-serious look. A look that she had gotten from her mother so many times she had lost count. She looked away quickly and glanced at John instead. He was at the alter waiting for her to be handed over like a door prize. Although he was smiling he had a very serious look on his face.

  She reached the front of the sanctuary and her father gave her away. She was sure the preacher had said something, but she was so nervous she didn't hear him. As she gave one final glance to her dad as he went to take his seat, he gave her a wink. It was a simple gesture, but why did she get the feeling he knew something she didn't. She stood holding John's hands as the ceremony continued on, wishing the veil could somehow hide all the other people from her vision. She was so focused on breathing that she forgot to bow her head to pray until John squeezed her hand.

  “If anyone here does not believe these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, please speak now or forever hold your pea-” the preacher was cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat followed by a fit of coughing.

  Ginger turned around to see who was causing the disturbance; it was her father. He stood, holding up his hand in apology and proceeded to leave the sanctuary. She watched him walk for a moment wondering if he was sick. When she turned around she caught the look on John's face. It hit her all at once: She was marrying her mother. This revelation hit her like a punch to the stomach; she nearly fainted. She saw the disgusted look in John's eye as he stared at her father and was sure her mom had one too. How dare he look at her father that way! In an instant she decided that there was no way in hell she would let him get away with that.

  “And do you, Virginia O'Mallory, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?” What could she say? They were waiting to hear her answer, but she couldn't speak. She just stood there like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and paralyzed with shock. Before she realized what was happening, her feet were carrying her down the aisle. Stunned faces rushed passed her in a blur. She was sure she heard someone yell her name but she couldn't stop, her feet wouldn't let her. All she knew was she had to get out of there fast. She couldn't, and wouldn't, marry a man who acted just like her mother. She ran through the church doors and out into the hot Arizona sun.

  As promised her father was sitting on the Harley with the engine running. She ripped the veil from her hair and threw it to the wind as she jumped on the bike and her father drove off toward the interstate. Amazingly, there was hardly any traffic on the roads this Saturday afternoon. They hit the freeway at full speed, heading south toward the Mexico border. Her father was right, they would be there within an hour. Ginger thought to herself as she let the wind blow her once beautifully curled hair into a mess off red tangles. As they drove pass minivans and trucks she imagined what they must be seeing. A young bride on the back of a motorcycle being driven by a bald old man in a tuxedo. What a sight we must be. She tipped her head back and laughed out loud. Her stress melted away as her surroundings raced past in a blur of asphalt and blue sky. The roar of the engine drowned out all other noise and she let her thoughts rush away with the wind.

  An hour later they were at the border ready to enter a foreign country that they had always joked about running away to. When they reached the checkpoint she wondered how they would get through without a passport. She had already packed hers for the honeymoon she would not be taking, and as far as she knew her father had never gotten one. Instead of stopping them the guard on duty, a short and thick Hispanic gentleman around her father's age, waved them though with a smile.

  “Salud mi amigos” The man called out as they passed. She had failed Spanish in high school, but knew enough to know he was congratulating them. She was about to ask why when the reason hit her. She laughed so hard she nearly fell off the bike. Not knowing how to explain, she waved back and shouted her thanks.

  “What was that all about,” her father asked. “And what's so funny?” He obviously hadn't come to the same conclusion she had.

  “Nothing, Old Man, just drive on.” There was no point in answering his question. They said nothing more until they stopped at a little bar for a drink. He parked the bike at the side of the building. They walked in and everyone stared. If her father noticed the extra attention he didn't show it. He walked up to the bar and took a seat. Ginger followed and took the seat next to him.

  “Two shots of tequilas for me and the lady here.” Her father said holding up his index and middle fingers at the bartender. The bartender nodded and poured the drinks.

  “What's the occasion?” a dark haired woman with a thick Spanish accent asked walking up from the other end of the bar. The bartender set the glasses down in front of Ginger. Her father picked up one and handed Ginger the other.

  “I just stopped my daughter from getting married to a complete moron.” he answered. Holding up his drink he yelled out “To Ginger!” then he quickly put the glass to his lips and swallowed the amber liquid in one gulp.

  Ginger raised her glass in salute then drank hers just as quickly as her father. The alcohol burned her throat on the way down and she made a face.

  “Well, then this calls for a celebration.” the woman said. She called out something in Spanish and everyone in the bar cheered. “My name is Awilda” she said to him. Music began to play and the woman grabbed the old man and led him to the floor where they began to dance.

  Ginger sneaked off to the restroom. Unfortunately, it was very a small room. Ginger had to rip most of the tulle from underneath her gown just to fit comfortably. When she came out and tried to return to her seat at the bar she was immediately pulled into the mob that was on the dance floor. She was being twirled and swirled in all directions. The floor was covered in dirt so as everyone spun and kicked to the music they stirred up a thick cloud of dust into the air. Ginger was dancing with a short man named Raul when there came a crash and a yell over the music. It had come from the woman her father had been dancing with. Across the room her father was standing face to face with a man holding a broken bottle.

  Apparently, this was Awilda's boyfriend and he was extremely angry that she was dancing with another man. Ginger started toward him, but felt fingers wrap around her arm.

  “No
, señorita, wait.” It was Raul. He was about to say something else, but didn't get the chance. The man lunged with the bottle. Ginger watched as her father dodged and then threw his fist out, connecting it with the man's jaw. The man seemed to fall to the ground in slow motion. Then, all hell broke loose. Where there was dancing and laughing was now screaming and punching. Ginger lost sight of her father and Awilda as Raul pulled her toward the safety of the front exit. Once they made it outside, he led her around to the side of the building as Awilda and her father was coming around from the back.

  “Quickly, you must go.” Awilda said as Ginger and her father jumped onto the motorcycle. Raul said something to Awilda in Spanish, and she gave him a nod. Raul looked back to Ginger,

  “I hope we meet again, Señorita.” he said with a shy smile. Ginger gave him a wink as her dad started the engine. Awilda kissed the old man on the cheek, then he kicked the bike into gear and they rode off toward the next town. Who knew getting into a bar fight in Mexico could be better than getting married?

  Christmas Dinner

  Roger drove the rental car down the long gravel driveway toward the modest little home that awaited the dinner that he was dreading. He had been nervous all day, especially on the flight into the country. He had so many thoughts going through his head; would she be there? What if she changed her mind? What if she didn't like him after all? He thought at times that the plane wasn't moving at all. That it was just hovering in the air at 40,000 feet between England and America. Needless to say, it had been the longest flight he had ever taken. He had come to meet the girl he had held a two year Internet relationship with. They had met online in a popular social networking website. They had started by sending emails, then progressed to video chats and phone calls. They had decided to meet during the Christmas holiday. When the plane had landed he was so terrified to move he was the last person to leave his seat. He embarrassed himself within the first three seconds of being in this country by tripping and landing on a flight attendant. He had recognized Berlin immediately when he saw her. She was a very lovely looking lady with ivory skin and red hair. She had been wearing a green sweater that matched her eyes perfectly. She was there with her best friend, Mischa. A skinny little thing with jet black hair and an olive complexion. Roger reached the end of the driveway and pulled next to a SUV. He turned off the headlights. The porch light was on, but it seemed to him that no one had noticed his arrival.

  “I could turn around and leave,” Roger said out loud “I can go back to the airport and catch the first flight out.” He rested his hand on the gearshift. No one would know I had even gotten this far, no one has noticed me.

  “No!” He exclaimed out loud “I won't back out now; I've come this far.” he said, reassuring himself. He slammed the gear shift into park, shut off the engine, and got out of the car.

  Immediately, he was flooded in light. He turned to see headlights barreling down the driveway heading straight for him. He heard tires skid in the gravel, he stood rooted in place as if hands had sprung up from the rocks and held his ankles. He squeezed his eyes shut to prepare for impact. A small truck came to a halt just inches from him. The lights shut off and the engine stalled before he could even react. The driver hopped out.

  “God woman! You drive like a maniac!” He yelled as his eyes adjusted and he saw Mischa was the driver.

  “I wasn't joking when I said I got my driver’s license from a cereal box.” She said. She had went to the passenger’s side of the truck and was sorting through several gift bags. She was joking, of course. When they had lunch together earlier he had learned very quickly that she was a joker, and Berlin's polar opposite. Berlin was quiet, polite and serious. She was very well spoken and never had a negative thing to say. Mischa, on the other hand, was loud, brutally honest, and could come off as being rude if you didn't understand her sense of humor. Mischa reminded him of his sister back home so he figured her out quickly.

  “Hey, you wanna give me a hand here?” Mischa's voice cut through his thoughts.

  “Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry. Where are my manners?” He said moving forward to retrieve some gifts from her. He noticed that the bags she handed him were black with silver snowflakes with matching black tissue paper.

  “You must have left it on the plane.” she laughed as she pulled out two bottles of wine.

  “It must have fallen out of my pocket when I tripped over the stewardess.” He replied dryly.

  “Do you remember what I said about them?” She asked nodding toward the house.

  “Everyone is a snake in the grass so be on guard at all times.” he quoted the warning she had given him at lunch.

  “That's exactly right.” She peeked over his shoulder.

  “In fact, Thom is peeking out the window right now spying on us” She whispered.

  “I beg your pardon?” He turned and sure enough in an upstairs window was a silhouette of someone. A second later the shadow moved from the window. He had a bad feeling.

  “Come along” She moved past him and went to the stairs. “Come meet your new family.” She gave a sarcastic laugh.

  As soon as she stepped onto the porch the front door swung open and there stood an angel standing at the door. He rushed up to meet Berlin, but had barely gotten to greet her when he was pulled into a sea of introductions and handshakes. First, was Berlin's mother, Tracy. She was a short, plump woman with short blond hair. Her green eyes has dulled with age. Although she smiled and shook his hand, he could tell she was not pleased to have him in her house. He wondered how long her politeness would last. Next was her brother Will and his wife, Kat. They seemed to be genuinely nice. Finally, was Thom, A thin hippie type character with frizzy long hair and shifty eyes behind square framed glasses. He gave Roger a weak handshake and a mumbled greeting. Like with Tracy, he could tell Thom didn't want him here either, but he could also feel some animosity toward Mischa as well. He was finally able to put the gifts down by the tree. They looked very contemporary next to the more traditionally wrapped gifts.

  Then, it was time to be seated for dinner. He was seated beside Berlin. Being close to her made him smile. Dinner was a lovely meal of roasted chicken with vegetables, onion soup, and white wine. The conversation was mostly questions about England and getting to know him. At times Berlin would rub her foot against his leg and give him a wink. This made him stumble over his words and sometime lose his train of thought. He noticed Thom would give a nasty look or a sarcastic remark whenever Mischa would say something.

  What's this guy's problem? Roger thought to himself. Does he just hate everyone? He saw the anger rising in Mischa's eyes. He looked around the table. Everyone had seemed to notice and they were beginning to look uncomfortable; everyone except Tracy, she seemed to be amused by this behavior. He felt Berlin's body tense beside him.

  “She is about to lose her temper big time.” Berlin whispered over the rim of her glass as she took a sip.

  “What's going to happen?” he whispered back mimicking her action. He looked back and forth between Thom and Mischa.

  “Just wait and see. It may get pretty ba-” She was cut off by Mischa's rising voice.

  “Are you still mad because I divorced you or because my penis is bigger than yours?” She looked straight at Thom.

  Roger nearly spit out his wine. Those two were married? Those two were a match made in hell. He could only sit back and watch as tempers flared and venomous words were spewed over the dinner table, all the while Tracy was watching with a humorous look on her face. He reached over and grabbed Berlin's hand. She squeezed it as if in an apology he had to witness this. He didn't know what to do so he just kept quiet and gripped Berlin's hand. It was Berlin who ended the spat between them. He didn't notice her humiliation turn to anger until she had let go of his hand. By then it was too late to stop her. She picked up her wine glass and tossed the contents into Thom's face.

  Then, immediately threw her water in Mischa's. It was like putting out a fir
e. There was a gasp throughout the room that sounded like embers doused in water. The bickering instantly stopped as both participants sat there open mouthed with liquid dripping down their faces, but surely knowing they deserved what they had gotten.

  “If you don't mind I have had enough of both of you and I would like to finish my Christmas dinner in peace. You both have embarrassed me enough for one night.” Berlin exclaimed in a calm voice that was as sharp as razors.

  This is certainly an interesting evening. Roger thought to himself reaching into his pocket and wrap his fingers around a little velvet box. He glanced at Tracy to see all the amusement was now gone from her face, and then back to Berlin. Now should I propose tonight or let her cool off for a few days?

  The Test

  She stared at the little blue line and fell weak at the knees. ‘No, no, no!” she whispered to the empty air. She looked back at the instructions on the box and then back at the pregnancy test. It wouldn’t matter how long she spent standing in her bathroom, the results would be the same. Positive. She could hardly breathe. Her legs were shaking. How could this be? She thought. It was only one night.

  She had to sit down. On wobbly legs she walked to the vanity in her bedroom. She almost collapsed in the chair.

  Her eyes were tearing up. “How could this have happened?’ The thought repeated in her head. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her dark skin pale and her eyes bloodshot. “What are you going to do now, you stupid girl?” She asked her reflection.

  Her eyes suddenly caught something in the glass. “That’s it!” She thought. “The beach house” turning toward the portrait of her at her childhood home. She could leave. That’s it! Start a new life. No one would ever have to know about the mistake she made.

  ***

  One week later she was serving out the final day of her notice. The office was quiet and it was down to the last five minutes of her shift. She had made it without him finding out.