The Walls We Built

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The Walls We Built Page 4

by Kassandra Garrison


  Oh, like Nathan?

  She smiled from ear to ear and bit her lip. I laughed as she couldn’t help but gush about the newest thing he said to her. Though Nathan was our only topic of conversation as we made our way across campus and back to our dorm, my mind was contemplating telling Ezra the truth. About everything.

  Six

  The day of my first period brought more than a change in my body. As my dad and I continued to shop in the store, the cashier became more and more friendly.

  I learned that her name was Cara and that she lived alone in a house down the street from the store. Five years ago, her husband had died in a car accident. Because they were unable to have children of their own, she was left entirely by herself.

  She became a wise advisor over the years, offering counsel on the female body, boys, and school. After begging my dad repeatedly, he allowed me to invite her over for dinner one night.

  Cara, dressed in a cream sweater and olive shin-length skirt, rang the doorbell at six o’clock sharp. I ran and opened the door to her warm smile.

  Hello, Charlotte. Thank you so much for having me over.

  Cara, this is my dad. Dad, you know Cara.

  My dad, wearing a charcoal gray sweater and carpenter pants, stepped forward to take the dish from Cara’s hand. They smiled in their greetings as dad ushered us to the dining table.

  Cara, it’s good to see you. For those who don’t know me by “Dad”, my name is Henry.

  Henry. Thank you for the invitation.

  Oh, well. You have left quite an impression on Lottie. She will not stop talking about you.

  Cara looked down at me and smiled, illuminating her face in a way that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. She had the kind of personality that oozed generosity and comfort. Spending half an hour with her equaled spending an afternoon by the pond in the sunshine.

  Me and Dad made lasagna and garlic bread. From scratch!

  Oh, wow. How did you learn to do all this?

  Dad’s a really good cook. He’s taught me a whole bunch of dishes.

  She appeared impressed as she looked down at the table and then at me and my dad. He smiled as I bragged about his skills in the kitchen.

  Really. I’m no chef. Just learned how to cook so we could eat something besides boxed macaroni and cheese and frozen pizza. Nothing fancy.

  Oh, I’m not so sure. It took years for my mama to teach me not to burn water.

  My juvenile mind thought the idea of burnt water was hilarious as we sat around the table sharing stories of our time in the kitchen.

  I remember thinking how long it had been since I last saw my dad that happy. Cara brought a warmth to the house we didn’t know we needed.

  Since then, Cara had become a part of the family. To this day, she drops off homemade baked goods and comes to cook dinner when dad is in the fields until late at night.

  In an unconventional way, my dad and Cara have become partners. They work together to keep the house tidy, the farm managed, and food on the table.

  I don’t know where I would be today without Cara. Yet, the thought that frightened me more was where my dad would be without her. Though he fought hard to hide it, there was a place for Cara in his heart.

  Even at a young age, I could see the chemistry between them. He had allowed a wall to block any possibility of romantic happiness since my mom left. I think in a lot of ways, he thought their failed marriage was his fault. But it was evident Cara was chipping away at the wall around his heart.

  Cara’s behavior showed how much she cared, not only for me, but for my dad. She walked a glass of iced tea to him every summer afternoon in the ninety-degree humidity. And although she was drenched by the time she made it back across the field, there was always a smile on her face.

  One day when my dad was in the fields and Cara had her hands in a bowl of pie crust, my straightforward attitude got the best of me.

  Cara, do you think my dad and you will ever go on a date?

  She nearly dropped the pie crust on the ground as she transferred it to the floured counter. Clearly, she was caught off guard by my question.

  Now, darling, why do you ask that?

  Well, I see how you both look at one another. I just figured one day you would go on a date.

  Honey, sometimes people love each other without going on dates or getting married. Your father and I have had our chance at love. We just care for each other in a different way.

  Do you still miss your husband?

  She stopped the rolling pin and stooped down to eye level with me.

  Every single day. But when the sun shines down on me, I feel his loving embrace. He watches over me.

  Her soft brown eyes glistened as she described the feeling of comfort her deceased husband continued to give her long after he was gone. My mind traveled to my own uneventful love life.

  Do you think you can only fall in love once in life? That everyone only has one chance?

  She seemed to think my question over as she crimped the edges of the pie crust in the pan. After a moment, she carefully chose her words.

  I think life gives you second chances. Some people only have one love that lasts a lifetime and others are given another chance. But if you shut yourself off from others, you risk losing any and all opportunities that may come your way.

  My dad came in from the fields as she finished her answer. We both looked up at him in the doorway as he wiped the sweat from his brow and studied the flour-covered counter.

  And what are you ladies doing?

  Charlotte and I are making your favorite: peach pie.

  Well, isn’t that the perfect end to a hard day’s work. I’m looking forward to it as always. Thank you.

  Cara smiled and nodded her head. As he walked away, a realization seemed to dawn upon her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed my stare and brought her flour-covered finger down my nose.

  The kitchen towel was soft and warm as I wiped off the flour and laughed. She playfully scrunched her nose at me as she gently wiped the remaining powder from my face.

  *****

  Your father refuses to go to the store and buy a new pair of overalls. He keeps having me sew the butt of his pants over and over again. If I had my way, I would let his butt hang out of his britches until he bought a new pair.

  I could hear my dad in the back arguing with Cara over the price of a pair of overalls. Smiling at their playful squabbling, I never felt more homesick.

  Halloween was approaching which also meant harvest time. It would be the first harvest I wasn’t home to help dad with the farm. Although he had Cara and my uncle to help him, I still felt guilty for leaving him.

  Cara, don’t you know by now that my dad’s more stubborn than an ox?

  Oh, you don’t have to tell me, darlin’. He’s been worse since you left. Won’t let me drive the tractor either.

  My dad’s voice was closer in the background this time. Clearly, he wanted me to hear him.

  I can handle the farm on my own. And my brother, Roy, is coming next week for the harvest. Besides, you and a tractor would be a dangerous mixture.

  Women don’t need tractors to be dangerous, Henry. Just you remember that.

  Laughter spilled from the deepest part of me as I listened to their empty threats. Finally, Cara came back on the phone with silence in the background.

  So, Lottie, how are you getting along at a college near the city?

  Well, it was kind of a hard adjustment being away from the farm and you guys, but I think I’m actually starting to fit in.

  See? I told you that you would. When you let go and have fun, you allow yourself to meet some interesting people.

  Yeah, my roommate Sophie is really fun to be around. She’s energetic and sassy and kind. Pretty much my polar opposite but somehow it makes our friendship work. And she’s okay with who I am without trying to change me.

  Oh, I’m so glad you found a friend, Lottie.

  Yeah, me too.

  Now tha
t your daddy is in the next room, what about boys? You find anyone special?

  Cara! Believe it or not, I’m not here to find a boyfriend. Don’t you want to ask me about my classes?

  I don’t have to ask you about your classes. You’ve never had a B in your life.

  That doesn’t mean I don’t like to be asked about them.

  Oh, fine. But I know this is just an excuse to stop talking about boys.

  My dad’s voice returned to the background as I heard his gruff tone.

  Don’t fill her mind with flowers and love poems. She’s got a good head on her shoulders and she doesn’t need a boy distracting her from that. They only have one thing on their mind.

  Oh, Henry. You were young and in love once. That doesn’t mean she’s having sex instead of going to class.

  My eyes were huge as I listened to the two of them talk about my love life. Before they delved deeper into the topic, I interrupted them.

  Wow. This escalated far quicker than I could have imagined. That is my cue to hang up now.

  Alright. You be careful, Lottie. We love you.

  Love you both.

  I ran my hands over my face and laughed to myself as I dropped my phone beside me on the bed. Hearing my dad talk about sex was not how I would have liked my night to end. Rolling over, I looked out the window between my bed and Sophie’s.

  The moon was over half full as the latter half of October was just beginning. Soon, the harvest moon would illuminate the sky and the ground beneath it. As I drifted off to sleep, I dreamed of home, how the pond magically reflected the moon, and how the rows of corn swayed in the cool, night breeze.

  Seven

  The college campus was littered with fake spider webs, pumpkins, and orange twinkling lights. Apparently, they went all out for Halloween.

  My dark jeans and long sleeve shirt felt paper thin as the cool autumn breeze whipped around me. Quickly, I made my way to my first morning class, clutching my books to my chest in the wind.

  I greeted my English professor as he looked up from his desk. Dr. Forster had become a mentor of sorts when I began my creative writing assignments in his class. He had encouraged me to expand my skills and knowledge so as to add variety to my style of writing.

  Charlotte, I could not put down your last writing assignment. I even had to share it with my wife. It was so moving.

  You really liked it?

  Yes, well done. I look forward to your next paper.

  As I excitedly turned to find my seat in the auditorium, my eyes landed on Ezra. His disengaged behavior had remained consistent since our last one-on-one conversation at the football game. But lately, he had seemed almost angry.

  And today instead of the disinterested head nod with which I had become familiar in sharing a class with him, he had company. Over his desk leaned a lanky blonde cheerleader with her finger playfully running along his hand.

  He was smiling up at her when he noticed my arrival. His expression was beyond disinterested as he scanned over me before immediately returning his gaze to her.

  A twinge of pain shot through my chest as he openly rejected me for another girl. But then again, I had no reason to be angry or jealous. He thought I was committed to a boyfriend Sophie had invented during one of her matchmaking attempts.

  I was the idiot who played along and hadn’t told him the truth. Smiling at the group of students who had befriended me in their mutual love of literature, I sat next to them, engaging in small talk until class began.

  Stop. Thinking. About. Him.

  Ugh, I never hated myself more. This was my favorite class and I couldn’t focus with the image of him and that… slut. No, for all I knew, she was a very nice girl.

  Nice girls don’t lean over a boy like that. She knew what she was doing.

  By the time class was over, my brain was dizzy with all the back-and-forth banter I had endured with myself. In the end, I decided she was a slut and he was a horny jerk.

  That evening when Sophie walked into the dorm, I was beyond fired up. She seemed caught off guard as I immediately began ranting before she could put down her backpack.

  So, guess how I started my morning? With some blonde tart leaning over Ezra’s desk. What’s worse is that he totally ignored me for her.

  I paced back and forth as she sat down on the edge of her bed cautiously.

  I know I lied about having a boyfriend, but I thought we had finally reached a point where we could be friends. I thought he was different, that he was actually a nice, respectable guy. But, come to find out, they all just want to stick it somewhere.

  My finger cut through the air like a knife with every point I made. She calmly and patiently waited for the end of my outburst before adding her point of view.

  And for that slut? Really? You’re going to ignore your friend for something as easy as fifth grade spelling?

  To be honest, I was always a terrible speller.

  Stunned by her random personal fact, I stared down at her while I caught my breath. Suddenly, we were both laughing so hard we cried, rolling on her bed and grabbing our sides breathlessly.

  By the time we both sat up and wiped the tears running down our cheeks, Sophie was ready for the real conversation.

  Charlotte, there’s no reason you should be mad at him. You rejected him, told him you have a boyfriend, and haven’t pursued him since. What do you expect him to do? Save himself for the rest of his life until you’re ready for a relationship?

  No, I just… It’s the way he rejected me. When I was growing up, boys always ignored me for girls like her. The blonde cheerleader with no self-respect.

  Boys who chase after that type of girl are trash and you know it. No, it doesn’t make the rejection hurt less but you’re better for it in the end. Trust me, girl.

  Thanks, Soph.

  She rubbed my back with her hand and smiled over at me. Just then, there was a knock at the door. From the way Sophie perked up, she was expecting Nathan tonight.

  Picking up my bag, I made my way to the door and opened it for Nathan. Sophie called after me before I walked into the hallway.

  You don’t have to leave, Charlotte. We can watch a movie on my laptop or something.

  And be the awkward third wheel that kind of just hangs there without a purpose? No, thanks. I’m going to the coffee shop for a little bit. Don’t worry about me.

  She smiled sympathetically before I shut the door and made my way to the coffee shop. Once inside, the smell of coffee comforted my soul as I claimed a booth toward the back of the room.

  With my next creative writing assignment and hot coffee in front of me, I lost all awareness of my surroundings as I delved deep into my imagination.

  I thought I would find you here.

  For a moment, I thought the statement was directed to another person in the room. But as I glanced up from my notebook, I found Ezra sitting in the booth across from me. He had changed out of the button-up shirt and khakis from that morning and now wore a hoodie and pair of dark jeans.

  Well, it is my night to forfeit the dorm. What are you doing here?

  I wanted to talk to you.

  Over the rim of my coffee, I witnessed his laid-back demeanor evolve into something I hadn’t seen from him. It wasn’t anger and it wasn’t nervousness. Inner turmoil?

  Okay, what do you want to talk about?

  I saw you this morning when you noticed the girl at my desk.

  And?

  Whatever fight he was having with himself was over and he was far from nervous.

  And you were jealous. I saw your face. You didn’t like her leaning over my desk like that.

  I don’t know what you’re talking about. The only anger I had was because you totally ignored your friend over a girl so easy she doesn’t even know the meaning of “no.”

  See? You’re mad.

  No, I just thought we had become friends and you were a jerk to ignore me for that cheap piece of tail.

  You know what I think?

&nb
sp; Not much.

  He didn’t seem entertained by my wit in this particular conversation so I shut my mouth and listened.

  I think you don’t actually have a boyfriend and claimed you did to get rid of me and any other boy who might be interested in you.

  You have no idea what you’re talking about. And I thought I would know if you were hitting on me? That’s what you said at the block party.

  Then tell me about him. What’s he like?

  He is smart, sweet, kind, and super buff. Could totally take you in a fight.

  And totally fake.

  What?!? No.

  Do you know how I know he’s fake?

  Enlighten me.

  You are never on your phone. Girls who have a boyfriend are always on their phone. And I doubt you have a single picture of him.

  Oh, I have plenty. But they’re inappropriate.

  His expression was blank as he held out his hand, calling my bluff.

  Then show me one picture, preferably of his face.

  I don’t have to prove anything to you.

  In my anger and embarrassment of the attention we were receiving, I threw my notebook in my bag and grabbed my phone. Ezra was right behind me as I made my way quickly through the door and onto the sidewalk outside.

  The cool breeze pushed my hair from my face as I hurried toward my dorm. Suddenly, Ezra’s hand was on my elbow and I whirled around to face him.

  Why would you lie to me about that?

  Why does it matter to you if I have a boyfriend or not?

  He seemed angry that I backed him into a corner, his eyes burning intensely as he paused to think.

  Do you want to know another reason I knew you were lying? You have too high of standards.

  What?

  I see how you look at me and any other guy around campus. Like we aren’t good enough for you. Sorry to break it to you but no one can live up to the fictional characters in your books!

  Sorry for having higher standards than the sluts you normally hang out with. Even without my high standards, you would never have a chance.

  Yeah and why is that?

  Because you drive me crazy! You hang out with people you don’t even like just to fit in.

 

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