When Love Goes Bad

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When Love Goes Bad Page 10

by AnonYMous


  “That’s not true.” I could feel myself getting teary. I hated arguing with Brenda. But why did she always put me in this position of having to defend Lonnie? I could see now why Lonnie had suggested that we see less of her. I almost regretted giving her an invitation.

  Bourbon returned his attention to my box of envelopes, and I nudged myself between the door and the dog to keep him from getting into them. Once he was out of the way, I slammed the car door and headed back to my house.

  “Lonnie says jump and you say how high,” Brenda called after me.

  My spine went stiff as I walked up the sidewalk to my front door, but I didn’t respond. I let myself in, then shut the door and leaned against it. Maybe Lonnie was right. Maybe I should avoid seeing Brenda altogether.

  As I slid down the door to the floor, the tears came from an uncontrollable spring. If getting married was supposed to be such a happy occasion, why was I feeling so miserable?

  “This is how it’s done, April,” Lonnie said as he tested a piece of spaghetti between his fingers. “You don’t want it too soft or too hard.”

  “I usually throw it against the wall. If it sticks, it’s done.” I finished my little joke with a chuckle, but it died in my throat when I saw the look on Lonnie’s face.

  “Are you going to take this seriously or not?”

  “I know how to cook spaghetti, Lonnie,” I said, not bothering to keep the hostility out of my voice. “I come from a long line of Italian cooks.”

  “Well, that sure didn’t help the last time you made lasagna. You put in enough garlic to choke a horse.”

  “My family likes garlic.”

  “Right. And you can usually smell them a block away because of it.”

  My knuckles went white as I gripped the edge of the sink. How had we escalated to this point of tossing insults at my family? Determined not to add additional fuel to our argument, I went back to washing the lettuce for our salad under the running water. Lonnie continued to talk, but the sound of the water and the hum I created in my brain prevented me from hearing him.

  When he came up behind me, placed his hands on either side of the sink and nuzzled my ear, I turned off the water. I loved the feel of him touching me, pressing himself against my back.

  “So, do you agree?” he asked.

  I picked up the lettuce leaves and gave them a thorough shaking before wrapping them in a towel to pat dry. “Agree to what?”

  Suddenly, I felt confined, trapped as he pressed harder against my back. I was about to complain, but a moment later, he pushed away and returned to the stove.

  “I don’t know what you said, Lonnie. The water was running.”

  But he didn’t respond, and for most of the meal, we sat in silence. Although I spent the better part of the time watching him, he never even looked my way to make eye contact. Not until the smoke alarm went off, and I became aware of the odor of burning garlic bread. Lonnie glanced at me then with rebuke in his eyes.

  Such stupidity, I thought. How could I forget the bread? I put on my oven mitts and headed for the stove while Lonnie handled the alarm. After turning off the oven, I pulled out the blackened loaf of bread just as the strident sound stopped.

  “Some Italian cook I am,” I said, and tossed the bread into the sink.

  Was it the incident, or my remark? I don’t know, but our little tiff dissolved instantly, and Lonnie pulled me into his arms. Oh, how I loved the strength that I felt there, the comfort. No longer interested in our food, I took the bread to the outside trash while Lonnie opened the windows and turned on the fan.

  “You burn something?” Brenda asked, sniffing the air. “I can smell it from here.” She deposited a bag into her trash can that sat next to mine.

  “Yes. I completely forgot about the garlic bread.”

  “Lonnie with you?”

  I nodded.

  “Look, I’m sorry about the way I took off on you earlier. I’m probably just jealous that you found someone before I did.”

  I reached over and gave her a hug.

  “Maybe if I knew him better, I wouldn’t be so judgmental. So why don’t you both come over? Paul dropped by, and we can play some games.”

  Paul was Brenda’s older brother, someone I’d dated occasionally before meeting Lonnie. Years before, Brenda and I had fantasized about my marrying her brother someday and becoming her sister-in-law. But our romance had never gone further than some movie dates when no one else was available.

  Still, since Lonnie said that meeting my previous boyfriends made him uncomfortable, I shook my head. Even though Paul couldn’t be counted as a former passionate flame, there was no sense in creating problems now that Lonnie and I had gotten over tonight’s earlier hurdle.

  “It’s really not a good idea,” I said.

  “Hey, why not?” I turned to see Lonnie framed in the open kitchen window. “The smell is really bad in here. Let’s go next door.”

  Just as he came out the door, we heard a crash.

  “What was that?”

  “Probably a tree limb off the old maple,” I said, dismissing the noise. I was too concerned with what might happen once we reached the house next door. Knowing how much Lonnie and Brenda disliked each other, I envisioned a disaster, especially with Paul being there. And yet, I wanted so much for them to be friends. Maybe this was what we all needed.

  “So, you haven’t got a boyfriend yet?” Lonnie asked Brenda when we were all seated at the card table, setting out the Monopoly game.

  Although the remark was aimed at Brenda, I knew it was really meant for me. Lonnie had told me not to throw my bouquet in her direction after the wedding. After all, it was supposed to go to the person who’d be married next, and Lonnie was determined that that would be his cousin. And since Brenda didn’t have any prospects. . . .

  “No, I haven’t,” Paul said. We all stared at him as he continued to set up the Monopoly board. “That’s why I decided to stick with girls.”

  With a wink in my direction, he placed the tiny, silver race car game piece on the board and passed the other items to me. I grinned back at him with relief. I’d forgotten how easily Paul had always diffused tense situations. When my date for the prom broke his leg two days before the big dance, I’d thought my life was over. But Paul had come to my rescue. What had started out as disaster had turned into one of the best nights of my life.

  I took the thimble, and passed the remaining game pieces over to Brenda. She fingered the little shoe and dog as she tried to make up her mind. Bourbon came over to sniff at the edge of the table and Brenda scratched him behind his ears.

  “Are you planning to choose tonight?” Lonnie asked her.

  Brenda smiled and passed the pieces to him while she continued to pet the dog. “You choose for me.”

  Lonnie picked out the flatiron and dropped it in front of her. Her expression went blank as she turned the little silver iron over and over in her hand.

  When Lonnie started to choose his own piece, Bourbon came over to inspect. It was the first time the dog had shown an interest in Lonnie, and he promptly gave it a finger snap on the nose. Bourbon yelped and backed away.

  I expected a reprimand from Brenda, who adored Bourbon, but she was obviously avoiding any confrontation tonight. Paul didn’t say anything, either, although he scraped his chair back, took the dog to the kitchen, and locked it out on the back porch.

  Undisturbed by any stir he might’ve caused, Lonnie took the other race car for himself. All I could envision was trouble ahead, with the two men rushing around the Monopoly board with similar game pieces.

  However, the game went along smoothly for over an hour, and I relaxed, finally able to stop all my fears. Paul, who’d become a fireman the previous year and was going for emergency medical training certification, regaled us with harrowing stories. Not to be outdone, Lonnie went into detail about whitewater rafting trips he’d taken around the world.

  Brenda and I laughed as the two men made motor noises, moving t
heir cars around the board. We were all having a good time when Brenda asked if we’d like some munchies.

  Lonnie stretched and pushed back on his chair. “Yeah, I could go for something. Never did finish my meal.” He sat straight again and looked at me with a wide grin. “The great Italian cook burned the bread.”

  “April’s only part Italian,” Brenda said, as she placed a bowl of pretzels near his elbow on the table.

  “Then it must be the other part that louses up the cooking.” Lonnie laughed and reached for several pretzels.

  My stomach turned into knots. I burned something once, and now I was a lousy cook. Lonnie grinned at me as though he’d made some great joke, and I forced a smile. He turned to Brenda.

  “Got anything to drink with these?”

  “Sure. What would you like?” After taking drink orders, Brenda started for the kitchen and motioned with her finger that I should follow.

  “I’ll help,” I said, pushing back my chair.

  Lonnie grabbed my wrist as I walked by, hard enough so that it hurt. “She’s a big girl. She can handle it. Right, Brenda?” he called out. He rolled his head around. “Anyway, I’ve got a crick in my neck. Rub it out for me, sweetie.”

  “Let me.” Paul bounded from his chair. “I’ve been studying massage therapy, and I need the practice.”

  Lonnie was just as quick, releasing my hand and jumping up. “Thanks, but I think I’ll visit the little boys’ room, instead.”

  Paul plopped down in his chair and smiled back at me as Lonnie left the room. “What a shame,” he said when Lonnie was out of hearing range. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on his throat all night.”

  His remark surprised me. Didn’t he enjoy Lonnie’s company? “I thought you guys were getting along.”

  Paul chuckled. “About as well as two males can when they’re competing for a female’s attention.”

  Again, I was surprised, and, I must admit, a little bit flattered. When Lonnie came back, I was smiling.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” I said, and rearranged the houses set out on one of my properties.

  “What do you mean ‘nothing?’ You’re grinning from ear to ear.” His voice rose as he continued. “You been talking about me behind my back?”

  All the uneasiness I’d felt earlier in the evening suddenly returned. For the life of me, I couldn’t think of what to say. We hadn’t been talking about him, but I knew any reference to Paul’s remark about competing for my attention would only make things worse.

  “It’s going to spoil it, but if you must know, we were talking about you.”

  I looked at Paul askance. He wasn’t helping.

  “April mentioned the wedding, and I asked if there were any plans for a bachelor party.” Paul looked pained at being forced to tell the secret.

  Lonnie chuckled as he took his seat. “Well, there’s not going to be a wedding if she doesn’t get those invitations done.” He turned to me. “What about it? You said you’d have them in the mail by this weekend.”

  Brenda returned just then with a tray filled with glasses. I glanced at her and watched as she motioned with her head in the direction of the credenza. Although I hadn’t noticed it before, my wedding invitation sat there in plain sight. Brenda placed the tray on top of the invitation and began distributing the drinks.

  “No,” I said, still maintaining eye contact with Brenda, “I haven’t had a chance to work on them yet.”

  Lonnie’s hand came down hard on the table, upsetting most of the game pieces. “What’s the matter with you?” he demanded, glaring at me.

  I sat there asking myself the same question. What on earth was the matter with me? Did I want to live my life with someone who made me feel so uncomfortable? Oh, the sweet talk and loving caresses were wonderful, but they didn’t make up for the humiliation I felt right then.

  While I pictured myself living the rest of my life in hell, Paul picked up the game board and poured everything into the box. “Guess that’s the end of that.” He reached for his drink. “Care to watch TV?”

  Lonnie got up and came over to my side, pressing his hands into my shoulders. I squirmed to get out of his grip. “No. We’ve got invitations to get out. If we start on them tonight, they’ll be ready by Monday.”

  Reluctantly, I pushed away from the table. My mind raced. How was I going to get out of this mess? Every awkwardness I’d felt over the past few months suddenly became livid memories that I could no longer excuse or overlook. Somehow, I had to change my relationship with Lonnie, but I had no idea how to go about it.

  What would his reaction be if I said that I was unhappy? Anger?

  Regret?

  Would he try sweet-talking me, turn back into the Lonnie I’d originally fallen in love with?

  On the way back to my house, I was still unsure about what to do. I told Lonnie that I’d developed a headache, and he immediately became so concerned. Although I wanted him to leave, I appreciated his attempts at making me comfortable. How could I push him out the door when he was so caring?

  As I relaxed in his arms on the couch, I wavered. When Lonnie was good, he was very, very good.

  The question was: Could I live with someone who could also be horrid?

  Thanks to my “headache,” the subject of the invitations didn’t come up again that night. When he called Sunday morning to make plans for the day, I begged off, saying that I needed my rest. Since he was flying out the next day for a weeklong sales trip, I looked forward to having the time to myself—time to think.

  Before he left Monday morning, Lonnie came by to say how much he’d miss me. He brought flowers, a dozen red roses.

  How can I have any misgivings about this guy? I thought as I took a deep breath of the bouquet.

  He also left instructions on what I should do with my time while he was gone: finish last-minute details for the wedding, get a final fitting for my gown, check details with the caterer, and give instructions to the baker. Lonnie gave me pictures of the cake from his cousin’s wedding that he wanted the baker to duplicate. And, of course—“Don’t forget those invitations, sweetie.”

  After he left, I went out to the car and brought the shoe box into my bedroom. I stared at it for a long time without coming to any decision.

  I was looking at the picture of the cake Monday morning when the doorbell rang.

  “Hey,” Brenda said. She worked most nights at the local grocery store, so I wasn’t surprised that she was home. “I saw your car in the driveway. Aren’t you going to work?”

  “No. I’m taking a personal day. I’ve got lots to do for the wedding before Lonnie gets back.” I showed her the list of chores that Lonnie had left with me.

  Brenda literally bit her tongue. Here she was bending over backward not to offend me again, and I still wasn’t being totally honest with her.

  “Look, Brenda, I took the day off so I could think. I’m not too happy with the way things are going with Lonnie and me right now.”

  Brenda clasped her hands to her chest and yelped. A moment later, she grabbed me in a crushing bear hug. “Oh, April, I’m so glad! You won’t regret this.”

  Once she’d released me, I plopped down on the couch. “What do you mean, I won’t regret it?”

  “Well, I mean—aren’t you canceling the wedding?”

  “No! I love Lonnie and I want us to be happy together. We just have to settle a few things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, you saw the way he acted last night.”

  Brenda nodded.

  “You’ve seen it right along, but it took last night for me to realize just how miserable I feel when he insults me or puts me down.” I stood and began to pace on the hardwood floor. “And he does it all the time.”

  “And the control,” Brenda added.

  I stopped and faced her. “And the control. I always have to do everything his way, even when I’m more of an expert in something than he is.” I explained about the spaghe
tti incident as we walked into the kitchen.

  “You’re a wonderful cook.”

  “Yes, I am. And when we first started going out, Lonnie told me that was one of the things that he loved most about me, my culinary skills. Now, though, he’s criticizing that, as well as everything else that I do. Nothing I do pleases him anymore.” I placed coffee cups on the counter and poured some for Brenda and myself. We took them to the table by the window and sat on the bench seats. “I just can’t take it anymore. I keep seeing these images of us in a few years, and I cringe.”

  Brenda sipped her coffee before saying, “No matter what you say, he’s not going to take it well.”

  I nodded, envisioning his reaction. Lonnie thought he was right about everything. He wasn’t used to people telling him that he was wrong.

  “If I could just make him realize that he hurts my feelings. . . .” I fingered my cup, twirling it back and forth on the table as I gazed out the window at our flower garden in the backyard—the place where I’d always wanted my wedding to take place. Still, Lonnie had insisted on the reception hall where his cousin had had hers.

  “Do you still love him?”

  “I love the person I thought he was. Now, though, I see him as a totally different guy . . . someone that, maybe, I could never love. If he won’t change. . . .”

  “What are you going to do?”

  I shrugged. “He won’t be back for a week, and Mom and Dad will be home in two days. So I’ve got till then to make my decisions. Maybe we should just postpone the wedding.”

  “Or cancel it entirely.”

  “I hope it won’t come to that. I’m just relieved that there’re no presents to return.”

  Brenda cleared her throat and looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Just like you said, it’s fortunate.” She beamed at me then with a toothy grin. “Anyway, your shower was supposed to be next Saturday. I’ll cancel it, though, and everyone can keep the gifts till you get married, or return them on their own.”

  “Oh, you little devil! You planned that?”

 

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