The Color of a Memory

by Julianne MacLean

  My instincts had told me that he was a player. Maybe I should have trusted them.

  * * *

  By the time I arrived home, I was spitting mad. Mad at Alex for playing me, and mad at myself for becoming so ridiculously infatuated that I believed our relationship was actually going somewhere.

  I’d always been a proud and independent person, and the last thing I wanted to do was fall apart over a guy, so as soon as I walked through the door and removed my coat, I pulled out my cell phone and texted him a message:

  Hi Alex. I don’t think this is going to work out. I can’t come for dinner tonight. Sorry.

  Before I had a chance to think it through or craft a gentler message, I impulsively pressed send and tossed the phone onto the kitchen counter.

  “There!” I shouted at the touch screen. “How do you like them apples!”

  The phone immediately vibrated back at me with an incoming call.

  “Oh, crap,” I whispered, and picked it up. I swiped the screen to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Hi,” Alex said. There was a gentleness in his tone. He spoke to me carefully, as if I stood on a tenth-floor window ledge. “I just got your text.”

  I shut my eyes and scrunched my nose. Maybe I’d been a bit too trigger happy sending that message.

  “Yeah, well…” I sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry to break our date like that…in a text. I should have called to do it.”

  “To do what exactly?” he asked. “I’m confused. You said you didn’t think it was going to work out. Are you breaking up with me?”

  “Breaking up…” My eyebrows lifted. “I think…maybe that’s overstating it a bit. That implies we’re actually a couple, and I don’t think we were quite there.”

  Otherwise he wouldn’t have invited his other girlfriend over to keep him entertained on a rainy afternoon.

  Alex was quiet for a long moment.

  “I thought we were,” he finally said. “I don’t understand, Audrey. I’m disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing you tonight.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get over it,” I harshly replied, wondering if Melanie was still there and he was talking to me from behind his bathroom door.

  Playing us both.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Something must have happened because you don’t sound like yourself.”

  I stood and paced around the kitchen while sparks of heat flashed through my body. “Okay then. If you really want to know… I came by your place earlier today and saw whose car was parked out front.”

  My explanation was met with complete silence.

  “Did you hear what I said?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I heard you,” he replied, “but it’s not what you think. Why don’t you come over here so we can talk about it? Let me explain.”

  All those clichéd responses made me want to laugh bitterly into the phone, but I couldn’t because I was overcome by a sudden melancholy. I’d had such high hopes for this relationship. I’d been wildly attracted to Alex from the get-go and I honestly believed we were falling in love.

  “I don’t think so,” I replied—because I didn’t want to prolong the agony. I may have been heartbroken, but I still had my dignity.

  “Then let’s talk about it now,” he suggested. “I didn’t invite Melanie over. She just showed up at my door in tears and I had no choice. I had to invite her in. She was a mess.”

  Part of me wanted desperately to hear more, but another part was afraid to listen. I didn’t know if I could trust him.

  I didn’t say anything in reply, but he nevertheless soldiered on. “She doesn’t want it to be over and she came over here begging me for another chance. I felt bad, but I told her we were done. I spent almost two hours trying to convince her that she was going to be okay and that she’d find someone else. It was exhausting. Then as soon as she left, I got your text.”

  I went into the living room and sank down onto the sofa. “Did you tell her about me?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he replied. Then he paused. “I never saw anyone cry like that. She sobbed and begged and pleaded. It was rough.”

  I covered my eyes with a hand. “I’m sorry for sending the text. I was angry.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute or two. “I suppose it must have looked pretty bad when you saw her car parked out front, but I just couldn’t bring myself to slam the door in her face.”

  “You’re a nice person,” I said with a sigh. “Compassionate.” It was a quality I admired.

  “Does that mean we’re still on for dinner?” he carefully asked. “And I warn you, if you say no…I might show up at your house in tears, begging and pleading.”

  After a long pause, I smiled. “I’ll come by in an hour. We can talk more about everything tonight.”

  “Good,” he replied. “I’ll see you then.”

  I ended the call and flopped back onto the sofa, more relieved than I cared to admit that we would still be having dinner that night.

  My relief was to be short-lived, however, because something else was about to happen. I didn’t know it then, but all of this was the beginning of a nightmare that would take quite a bit of time to resolve.

  Chapter Eleven

  Over dinner that night, Alex explained everything that happened with Melanie that afternoon, and he also held nothing back about their intense six-month relationship.

  From very early on, he had recognized she wasn’t completely stable. She was jealous and often shouted, ranted and threw things—but he continued to date her, admitting that he was attracted to her physically. She had a way of smiling and making up for everything with a pouty look and a seductive flip of her hair.

  “It was a good learning experience,” he said as we lingered over coffee, “because I won’t make that mistake again. Now I know what I want.”

  “And what’s that?” I asked.

  “I want to marry a girl with a good head on her shoulders. Smart and sensible. Someone who will be a good mother. Someone rational and kind.”

  The fact that he would even mention wanting marriage someday caught me off guard, and my heart melted.

  “All good qualities,” I replied, setting down my coffee mug. “But don’t forget integrity. When it comes to marriage, fidelity is key. That’s what my dad always used to say.”

  Alex leaned back in his chair and stared at me across the table for a long moment. “I’m glad you didn’t dump me today.”

  “I’m glad, too,” I softly replied as my heart pounded with excitement. Then Alex paid the bill and we left.

  * * *

  Alex invited me up to his apartment, but I didn’t stay long because I had to work at seven the next morning. When it was time to go, I had to tear myself away from him on the sofa. Then I kissed him for another ten minutes at the door before I headed home.

  As I drove through the city, I listened to the hit parade on the radio, tapped my fingers on the steering wheel and felt positively euphoric. When I pulled into my driveway, however, my blissful mood veered sharply downward and anxiety spiked in my veins.

  It looked like a bomb had gone off in my yard.

  This time I couldn’t blame it on the raccoons. Clearly, someone had ripped open the garbage bags around the side of the house and spread everything all over the grass. Dirty tissues, wrappers and rotten food items were strewn from one corner to the other. The bins were over on their sides on the front walk.

  I shut off the car engine and sat motionless, staring, then reached for my phone and called Alex to tell him what happened before I dialed the police.

  Chapter Twelve

  To make a long story short, the cops put two and two together and paid a visit to Melanie the following morning to question her about the garbage on my lawn and my suspicious open window a week earlier. Naturally she denied any knowledge of those things.

  The officers filed a report regardless, but it didn’t end there. Later that day, as I walked out of the hospital after work, I spot
ted her from a distance in the glare of the sun. She was leaning against the driver’s side door of my Mustang, filing her fingernails.

  I stopped and moved behind a pillar at the entrance. Digging into my purse, I called Alex.

  “Hey there,” he said.

  “Hi, it’s me,” I replied. “You’re not going to believe this. I just got off work and Melanie is here. She’s waiting by my car. What should I do? Should I go talk to her or call the cops?”

  He let out a groan. “Oh God, Audrey, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. It’s my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. You can’t help that she’s a nutcase. What do you think she wants?”

  He sighed with resignation. “She probably wants to talk to you about the cops coming over to her place this morning.”

  “Maybe she wants to apologize,” I suggested optimistically.

  “Not likely. Listen, don’t believe anything she says, all right? She might lie to you about me.”

  “What would she say?”

  “I don’t know…that I invited her over yesterday. Or that we kissed.”

  I peered out from behind the pillar to watch her. “Did you kiss?”

  He hesitated, and my stomach turned over with dread. “I kissed her on the cheek a few times,” he replied. “I was trying to comfort her, to get her to stop crying.”

  I didn’t want to doubt his rendition, but there was still a part of me that wasn’t sure.

  Either way, I had to walk to my car eventually.

  “I’m going to see what she wants,” I firmly said, starting off toward the parking lot. “I’ll call you later.”

  She must have sensed my approach because when I was still a fair distance away, she looked up, pushed away from my vehicle and shoved the emery board into her brown leather purse.

  As I drew near, her gaze narrowed and I braced myself for an uncomfortable confrontation.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What are you doing here, Melanie?” I asked, stopping in front of the grill of my Mustang. The sunlight reflected off the shiny steel and nearly blinded me.

  “Waiting for you,” she replied.

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s something we need to talk about.”

  Arranging my keys between each of my fingers, I gripped them tightly and said, “What would that be?”

  “Don’t act all innocent.” She strode closer but I held my ground—though she was at least six inches taller than me. “You sent the cops to my house this morning. I think that creates a problem.”

  “What creates a problem is when you come over to my house and dump garbage all over my lawn.”

  Melanie pushed her sunglasses further up the bridge of her tiny upturned nose. “I never did that.”

  “No? I think you did. I also think you broke into my house last week.”

  She scoffed. “You’re nuts! Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied, shrugging. “Maybe because you’re upset that I’m dating Alex.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “If you had any brains in your head, you wouldn’t waste your time on him, and you’d see that I’m doing you a favor by coming here.”

  “How?” I asked with disbelief.

  “Because I’m giving you fair warning that he’ll break your heart—just like he broke mine. He’s a player.”

  I brushed by her to unlock my car door. “I appreciate the advice, but I’ll take my chances.”

  “Are you dense?” she asked, following. “He’s not worth your time. The only reason he’s into you is because you weren’t interested, so you were a challenge. He’ll say anything to make you fall for him, and as soon as you do, he’ll get bored and move on. Mark my words. That’s what he does.”

  These were not words I wanted to hear because I hadn’t felt this happy in years, and I didn’t even want to think about my relationship with Alex coming to an end.

  This was crazy; I shouldn’t have to think about it—because I knew Melanie wasn’t rational. I’d be a fool to trust anything she said. I willed myself not to listen.

  Shoving my key into the lock, I opened my door. Before I got in, however, I said one last thing: “What I do with my life is none of your business, and if you ever set foot on my property again, I’ll have the cops at your door so fast, your head will spin.”

  As I was sliding into the driver’s seat, she moved around the front of my car and grabbed hold of the door to prevent me from closing it.

  “I’m just trying to help you,” she said with teeth clenched tight.

  I tugged at the door but she gripped it hard. “Let go!”

  At last Melanie stepped back. I violently slammed the door. With shaking hands, I turned the key in the ignition. The engine revved and I hit the gas.

  My tires squealed as I sped out of the parking lot. I must have checked my rearview mirror at least twenty times on the way home.

  * * *

  “Do you think I have enough evidence to file a restraining order?” I asked Cathy when we met for spinning class that night.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “Did you tell the police she was waiting for you after work?”

  “Yes, I called them right away, told them every word she said and they added it to the report.”

  Cathy tied her hair back in a ponytail. “The fact that she knew what time you were getting off work is kind of creepy. I’m glad you have a written record of everything, just in case.”

  “In case of what?” I asked with more than a little concern as I climbed onto a stationary bike and adjusted my feet on the pedals. “You don’t think she’d do anything really crazy, do you?”

  Cathy mounted the bike beside me. “It’s hard to say, but she definitely seems to have stalker-brain. She must really be obsessed with Alex.”

  “I can hardly blame her,” I found myself saying. “He’s pretty amazing.”

  “Maybe so.” Cathy leaned forward and grasped the handlebars. “But that doesn’t make it okay to dump garbage on someone’s lawn. And are you sure you can trust Alex? What was he doing with a girl like that in the first place? You said he was with her for six months.”

  “He admits he was dazzled by her beauty, but he regrets it now,” I replied in his defense.

  Cathy sighed. “I guess a lot of people end up regretting past relationships. Just be careful, all right?”

  “I will,” I replied as the instructor walked into the studio and turned on the music.

  In all honesty, I didn’t believe Melanie would do anything legitimately dangerous. She was just angry because her pride was bruised. She looked like a supermodel and probably couldn’t believe a brainy little nurse with glasses had stolen her boyfriend.

  The cops had already knocked on her door and delivered a warning. A report had been filed. If anything happened to me, she’d be the number one suspect.

  Surely she wouldn’t be that stupid.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As it turned out, Melanie was that stupid.

  Maybe I was a little stupid, too, in assuming she wasn’t dangerous…

  After I left my spinning class, I drove to Alex’s place and picked him up for a movie. Later, he invited me up to his apartment, but I said no because I had to be at work at 7:00 the next morning. Besides, things were heating up between us and I knew that if I gave in, I might stay all night, and I wasn’t ready for that.

  Especially with Melanie still in the picture.

  Though I told myself she wasn’t rational—and surely everything she said about Alex was a lie—I still had my doubts. Maybe I was overly cautious. Maybe a part of me believed that a guy as gorgeous as Alex couldn’t possibly be the type to settle down—not when beautiful women would always be throwing themselves at him.

  So when it came time to say goodnight, Alex gave me a kiss and got out of the car, still limping on his good foot. He stood under the streetlamp in a leather jacket and jeans, smiling down at me.

  “C
all me from work tomorrow?” he asked.

  “I will.”

  Pulling away from the curb, I left him standing on the sidewalk.

  * * *

  When I arrived home, I was at least pleased to find my front lawn free of spilled garbage. Gathering up my purse and keys, I strode to my front door.

  There wasn’t a single breath of wind in the air as I fiddled with my keys in the dark, wishing I’d left my porch light on.

  When at last I found the right key, I let myself in and flicked on the lights.

  The silence inside was rather ominous and I found myself hesitant to move from my spot on the welcome mat.

  I really should get a dog, I thought. To be greeted at the door by a live creature with a wagging tail would be far preferable to this fear and uncertainty, especially when I might be dealing with a potential stalker.

  I tried self-talk. Don’t be paranoid. All the windows and doors were locked when you left. There’s no one here.

  Taking a deep breath, I moved into the living room and turned on a couple of lamps and the television. Then I went to the kitchen and flicked on the overhead light.

  The window near the back door was shut tight and the blinds were closed, which gave me some peace of mind. Nevertheless, I moved from room to room, turning on lights and checking behind closet doors.

  Nothing seemed out of order, so I changed into my pajamas and planted myself on the sofa to watch some TV.

  * * *

  The sound of my cell phone ringing woke me shortly before 5:00 a.m. At first I thought I was having some kind of lucid dream because I also heard sirens and it seemed very real. The phone rang four times, stopped for a moment, then resumed ringing again.

  Confused and disoriented, I sat up and squinted through the darkness. Just as I was about to answer the phone, there was a loud, aggressive banging at my front door—and I knew that part wasn’t a dream. My belly exploded with panic and I scrambled to pick up the phone.