It was raining really hard tonight so the hair definitely was up. I didn’t feel like dressing up very much so I went with a black turtleneck, jeans and black boots. Too add a splash of color I brought out the green fake croc handbag I got at the Ann Taylor fall sale.
I hear the horn honk and make a mad dash for her SUV. Halfway down the stairs I wish I would have grabbed my umbrella but really don’t want to run back up. I have never denied my lazy tendencies.
“Hey girlie you look swank! At least I wore a different shirt!” She laughs as we both are wearing jeans, black boots and a black top, which is a common occurrence in the going out garb.
“Yeah, it’s cold so I felt like a turtleneck. Did you bring an umbrella?” NW 23rd is a fabulous area of Portland to shop and dine but parking is practically impossible. It is usually inevitable that you will have to park several blocks from the intended destination.
“Of course, I wore my hair down tonight! I am so excited to hang out tonight Nat. We’re going to have so much fun!” She exclaims as she turns up the latest Britney Spears CD.
As expected, the rain did not deter fellow Portlanders from going out. Parking was a mess and we finally found something many blocks from the restaurant. I hate driving around for a spot and will typically just pay an arm and a leg to park in a structure or a lot. Jenna however will never do this. I think it is a combination of the challenge to find an available spot and the fact that she doesn’t want to spend money on parking. Either way it was really annoying.
“Good thing I have an umbrella huh! Woo, there are a lot of hot men out Nat. Of course, they aren’t as cute as Ian.” She comments as we begin our journey.
“I told you Jenna, it’s too late to call him. Can’t we just call it a loss?”
“Okay Natalie, I have a confession. Ian didn’t send those flowers. Maggie and I sent them.” She winces as she confesses that my flowers were actually a complete and utter lie?!
“Oh my god Jenna! Thank the lord I didn’t call him! I would have looked like a complete idiot if I would’ve called! Why did you guys do that?” I ask, completely embarrassed.
“Because Ian did feel like a jerk. He even admitted it to his sister. She knew he wouldn’t have the balls to call and apologize for whatever it was and I knew that you really did like him so we took matters into our own hands. You both should feel grateful that someone wants to help because at this rate, you and Ian will never get together.” Jenna is obviously shocked that I don’t concur.
“Why are you so concerned about me getting together with Ian? Did you ever stop to think that maybe it isn’t meant to be? It shouldn’t be this hard Jenna.”
“Look, I know I’m not a psychic or anything like that, but I just know it is. Plus, I want you to be with someone. I’m afraid that you are going to let everyone’s life pass by you and before you know it, we will all be married with children and you’ll be right where you are now.”
“So, you think I’m going to be a spinster like my mother does? You know, life isn’t always about being with a man. Look at Mya, she has a nice boyfriend that will go to the end of the earth for her and she isn’t happy. She’s having an affair with some guy that she barely knows! And you my sweet, are not in the most perfect of relationships either. He treats you like a hooker except instead of giving you money he buys you shoes and handbags! Oh and boobs!” I am so angry I have no idea of where I’m going with this.
“Rob is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I will marry him Natalie and then you will feel like a total bitch for saying that.” I can tell that I have struck a nerve because Jenna’s flawless complexion has now become flushed and blotchy.
“Jenna you are not going to marry him! What is wrong with you? This guy has you under a spell!”
“You don’t even know him Natalie. You have no idea what our relationship is about! He is a great person!” Jenna cries out.
“Jenna he is not a great person. He’s a horrible person! Don’t you see? He is already with someone that he plans to marry! He is marrying Mallory Wellington! I know because I was at the engagement party!” Oh shit, I said it. I said it and I can’t go back and not say it because I just said it out loud! This was not the way it was supposed to happen.
“What? You’re lying. You, you, you’re just saying that because you are jealous!” Tears are rolling down Jenna’s face and her lips are quivering. The umbrella has now dropped to the ground and we are both standing in the rain, soaking wet.
“I’m sorry Jenna. I have wanted to tell you for a long time but I didn’t know how.” I feel even worse than I did before I told her the truth.
“So, you knew about this and never told me? How long have you known Natalie?” Her manner has become grim and solid and the bright blue eyes that were recently filled with tears are now filled with fire. I can’t speak. It is as though a force has stolen the voice right out of my body.
“How long have you known?!” She roars in a way that I have never witnessed in the whole time I have known her. For the first time, I am scared.
“A few weeks.” I utter in a whisper.
“A few weeks.” Jenna repeats back to me, nodding her head and taking it all in.
“You sat for three weeks and let me look like a fool? You met him for crying out loud! You, oh god, you and Ian were at the party! Does he know too? Jesus, I thought you were my friend! I thought I could count on you for honesty and compassion.” Jenna’s roar has now turned into incoherency and discontent.
“Jenna I am your friend. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I plead trying to make her understand that I do care but it’s too late. Jenna runs back toward the car and I am left in the pouring rain on 21st street alone with no sign of a taxi anywhere in sight.
Chapter Forty-Five
I slept all day on Sunday. I didn’t even get up to shower. When the phone rang, I would ignore it and hide my head back under the comforter. I have hit rock bottom. I don’t think that I have ever felt so wretched about myself in my life. The times that I felt wretched before this was like wading in the kiddie pool. It was baby steps into feeling wretched. It wasn’t the real thing. This is the real thing. By not telling Jenna what I knew right away, I was able to pretend as though it wasn’t real. I could live in denial. I have learned the expression denial aint just a river in Egypt and I must say they are quite accurate.
It was now Monday morning and I decided to call in sick. I didn’t want to deal with Magda’s incessant nit-picking or figure out what to do because half the staff didn’t come to work. I didn’t want to watch that snotty consultant prance around my department passing out new memos of reformats of the old reformats. I wanted to pretend that everything so dreadful in my life was actually not real. It was all just an episode of some melodrama with actors and fake sets.
I was able to keep up my delusions until the doorbell rang. I had no intention of answering it. My hair was a few days away from being dreadlocks. My face was blotchy from crying and not being washed. I won’t even mention the disaster that one couldn’t call an ensemble if they were forced at gunpoint. I tried desperately to act as though I wasn’t home. Unfortunately, the person at the other side of my door was Mya and she was not going anywhere.
“I know you’re in there Natalie. I called your work and they said you were sick. Your car is here too! You haven’t answered any of my calls! If you don’t answer this door I’m going to the leasing office to tell them there is a bad odor coming from your apartment and I think you may be dead!” At least I know someone worries about my welfare.
I open the door and Mya takes one look at me and gasps. It was as though she saw the elephant man or something.
“Good lord Natalie. What is wrong with you? Do you have the plague?” She asks in utter despair.
“Thanks, I’m so glad I answered the door. Come in.” Mya walks in and immediately opens all of my curtains and lights my pumpkin spice candle.
“Natalie, is everything alright? You always answer my calls, ev
en when you’re sick. I’ve been worried something awful about you.”
“She hates me Mya. She hates me.” I utter my sentences between sobs.
“Who hates you? Oh Natalie, did you talk to Jenna?” She asks quietly. Her face grows pale as I nod back with my face in my hands.
“Natalie, I know this is going to be hard. But you did the right thing. She needed to know the truth about him. It is better she heard it from you than someone else. Isn’t it?”
“It wasn’t the way I wanted to tell her. We were arguing about me being a spinster and I just snapped. I was so mad at her for making me feel inferior because I’m always single. I didn’t tell her because I was her friend. I told her because I was pissed off and now I feel horrible!” I begin sobbing uncontrollably again.
“Okay, it’s okay Nat. We will get through this. I should probably call her to see how she is. Maybe I can calm her down so she can maybe rationalize things.” Mya is pacing around as though she herself is trying to take everything in.
“We need to get you in the shower and out of this pajama running outfit thing first and foremost. Have you eaten anything?”
“I’m not hungry Mya. I don’t deserve food anyway.”
“Listen Gandhi, a hunger strike isn’t going to help anybody. Get in the shower and I’ll make you my grilled cheese special. Go!” Mya shoos me off and heads into the kitchen.
When I come out freshly bathed and attired, I can hear her on the phone. Within seconds I realize it is Jenna she’s talking to. Although I don’t want to eavesdrop, I don’t want to interrupt anything, so I just casually leave my bedroom door cracked while accidentally over hearing things.
“Okay well, call me when you get there alright? Okay, take care. Bye.” I walk out to the living room as Mya puts down the phone.
“So, what did she say?” I ask impatiently.
“I think she just needs time to process things. She is flying down to Santa Barbara to stay with her brother for a while. You know, to get away from everything.” Mya brings out the grilled cheese and tomato soup for me to eat. Although I said I wasn’t hungry, the moment I smelled the aroma of her meal my stomach began to grumble and my head felt dizzy.
“She went to Santa Barbara?! For how long? Did I drive her away?!” Is she coming back? I ask with panic and despair.
“Of course she’s coming back! She has a life here. Will you calm down please? Jesus Natalie, you’re far too young to have a coronary.” Mya replies.
“Do you think she’ll ever talk to me again?” I ask, not able to raise my head to see her expression.
“Yes, of course she will. Natalie, she doesn’t hate you. She is just filled with a lot of emotion right now, mostly embarrassment. Just give her some time. I hope you don’t mind, I kind of played it like I just found out. I figured it would help to plead your case better.”
“Well, it kind of sucks that I’m basically taking all the heat for it.” I reply somewhat annoyed. “Ugh, no you’re right.” I moan, burying my head back into the pillow. It was just how I predicted. I would be the one to break the news and be fed to the wolves. As irritated as I was at the predicament, I knew it was advantageous for me to have a mediator in Mya. She’s good at being neutral Switzerland. So, I put my feelings aside and ate. I was hungry!
“Good sandwich by the way.” I add dipping my grilled cheese in my tomato soup. Mya stayed with me most of the day. We talked about Jake never calling and the denial of my feelings for Ian. It was nice to just hang out and have girl talk. I didn’t bring up her current involvement with Ben the respiratory therapist. To be honest, I could only handle one drama per friend at the moment. I think it was fair to say that she could only handle one drama as well.
Chapter Forty-Six
It was Friday and although my week was cut short by my Monday mental health day, I was overjoyed that it was finally over. It is virtually impossible to focus on “important” matters when one’s personal life is in near shambles. Especially since on an average day I couldn’t give two figs about the goings on at work. Probably not a good attitude given that I am the interim supervisor. Whatever, I say. It’s a boring job with terrible management and to be quite frank, I am tired of the bother.
Since I haven’t gone to the grocery store and am too broke to even buy them, I go to Mama’s to get dinner. Using a credit card for dinner is totally acceptable. Using a credit card for groceries is downright irresponsible, not to mention embarrassing. It’s as though you can see exactly what the checkout person is thinking. “You’re paying 17.99% interest for a gallon of milk and cereal? What a loser.” But people use their credit card all the time at restaurants. It is socially acceptable.
I walk in and see the happy familiar face of Mr. B as he wipes down the counter. As usual Mrs. B is in the back preparing her pizza dough. I realize that although my happy place is typically the Nordstrom shoe department on a half yearly sale, Mama’s is pretty equivalent.
“Ah Natalie, how have you been?” Mr. B asks with his happy smile.
“Oh, the same I suppose.” Just then I remember the last time I was here and correct my reply. “Actually, quite well indeed.” I add with conviction.
“That’s what I like to hear. We saw Ian the other day. He’s a good boy.” Mr. B comments and gives me a wink. What do they know? Okay, Natalie, stop being paranoid. These people are Italian, not psychic.
“Ian? Oh, yes, Ian. Well, I am sure he is. I wouldn’t know really, but I, I believe you, I mean…so, I thought I would get my usual to go.” I can feel my face blushing as I stammer and look around the restaurant, unable to meet Mr. B’s eyes.
“One usual for Natalie! To go Mama!” Mr. B shouts to the kitchen.
“Natalie! Oh little one it is so good to see you!” Mama walks out of the kitchen, flour preceding.
“Hi Mrs. B it is good to see you as well.”
“Darling, did you tell her we saw Ian the other day?” Mrs. B asks her husband in delight. “Did you tell her?” But Mrs. B is interrupted.
“Tell her that we will be open an hour later on Sundays? No my sweet, I haven’t yet.” Mr. B gives Mrs. B a look and it is as though they are speaking telepathically because I have no idea what is going on. Hmm, maybe it is an Italian thing?
“Well, here is your pizza little one. If we don’t see you before, we will see you at the anniversary party?” Mrs. B asks in anticipation.
“Oh I wouldn’t miss it for anything. To celebrate the anniversary of my favorite couple in the whole world is an opportunity that cannot be missed.” They really are my favorite couple. It used to be Brad and Jennifer but I think we all know how that ended up. You just can’t trust the celebrity unions anymore. One day they are in bliss, the next it is celebrity divorce court. It’s sad really. If I become famous and marry Ewan McGregor, I can assure you that it will be for the long haul. Oh wouldn’t that be fabulous?
As I am imaging what type of china pattern Ewan and I would have, I realize my phone has been ringing and went to voicemail. Hmm, Mya wants me to go to some party tomorrow night. Since I just walked in the door with my dinner, I decide that I need to eat first so it doesn’t get cold. At 17.99% interest, I need to enjoy it to the fullest.
“So what is this party tomorrow night?” I ask Mya while doing my dinner cleanup. Okay, crushing up my pizza box to get it in the garbage can.
“My friend from school is having a pleasure party and I thought it was the perfect thing for you!” What is a pleasure party? I hope it isn’t some weird new age thing where you find your inner soul or something.
“I don’t know Mya, I don’t know if it would be my thing.” Even though I’m the vegetarian, Mya is a lot earthier than I am.
“On the contrary, it is exactly what you need right now. Besides if anything, it will make you laugh. Anyway, it starts at 7 so I’ll be around to come get you around 6:30ish.” I can hear clanking of glasses and such in the background, much like another time I spoke to her on the phone.
“Mya a
re you out with Kyle?” I ask in my most nonchalant tone.
“Kyle’s friend from out of town is here so he is hanging out with him.” She replies in her most vague yet kind of answering the question tone.
“Are you out with friends?” I ask back. Two can play this game missy!
“Yes, I am out with a friend.” She replies back. Do I need to ask if it’s bigger than a bread box!? Come on!
“Okay so are you out with that guy Mya??” I finally had to get to the point. This game was getting old fast.
“Yes and I don’t want to talk about it. So I will see you tomorrow night. I’ll talk to you later. Bye!” And with that she was gone and I was left to wonder what in the heck was going on with my friends lately.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Disillusion Meets Delight Page 17