I can’t help the fact that I’m looking at Alex like she’s just sprouted two heads and a tail. I can’t imagine Alex doing any of the things that she just laid out for me. The Alex I know and love is as far from a Stepford wife as it gets.
“Alex, none of that sounds like you … I mean, I’m sure you were at the top of your class, but all the rest of that crap, no. It just sounds so shallow and pretentious, and you are not either of those things.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Alex giggles.
“You should, because that’s how it was meant.”
“Well, anyway, I’m sure it’s obvious that I had a hard time fitting into the mold that was pushed upon me. My parents’ plan wasn’t even close to what I imagined for my life. Luckily, I found my true passion while learning one of my “suitable” hobbies—painting. So I did the only thing I could do … I rewrote my story.” Alex grins, and I can’t help but laugh. Only she could make defying her parents look cute.
“Just like that, huh?” I chuckle.
“Okay, so there was a little more to it than that. Without telling my parents, my guidance counselor and I sent in an application to The Art Institute of New York. Not only was I accepted, I received a full scholarship. Bye bye, Green Wave!” Alex said as she waved her hands back and forth.
“I bet that went over like a box of fuckin’ rocks with your parents … am I right?” I ask.
“You would be correct. That was a really hard summer, but I stood my ground. They told me I was on my own in New York; I shouldn’t expect any financial help from them. I knew it would be very expensive, but my tuition, room and board, and meal plan were paid. I felt sure that I could get a part-time job to help with incidentals. And as time wore on, their resolve started to waver. I think their acceptance was helped along by one thing in particular—well, two things actually.” Alex explained, “First of all, of course, my parents love me. I don’t mean to make them seem like bad people, because nothing could be further from the truth. My parents are wonderful people who just have a certain way of looking at things. They loved me enough to let me explore my dreams in New York. It just took a while to come to that conclusion.”
“And the second thing?” I ask.
“Ah, yes, the second thing. My paintings didn’t suck; it’s just that simple.” She shrugs and snickers.
I throw my head back, laughing out loud. What an understatement. It’s amazing that Alex can create such beauty from nothing. Talent like that shouldn’t be suppressed.
“And it’s not like you’re a bag lady pushing your shopping cart up and down the street. You’re a successful artist who runs her own gallery. That’s got to count for something in “the land of the boring and pretentious,” right?”
“That’s true, but they didn’t know that at the time. I’m sure they pictured their sweet little girl hustling people on the streets of New York City to sell $20 portraits. What a travesty!” Alex jokes sarcastically.
“Well, it seems to have all worked out for the best. Your mom seems like she’s bursting with pride over her beautifully talented daughter.”
“We’ve come a long way,” she states simply.
Alex rests her head on the tree branch and closes her eyes, swimming in her thoughts. I follow suit, and let the sun warm my face as I contemplate all Alex has shared today. I think most parents have a vision about the path of their children’s lives. I think we all hope that vision is slightly more abstract than what Alex’s parents dreamed up. I admire the eighteen-year-old girl who stood up for what she wanted out of life.
I open my eyes and turn to Alex. “So I have to ask … how are you liking your story so far?” I smirk and raise my eyebrows up and down.
“I’m pretty pumped about it, if I do say so myself,” she says as her eyes light up with laughter, but I notice a slight strain in her smile.
Alex quiets down and stares at me curiously—like she’s trying to figure something out. If she’s trying to figure out my messed up head, she’s in for quite a conundrum. That’s one mind fuck of a puzzle, and she shouldn’t waste her time.
“You know, my mother’s right. I never bring friends home with me,” Alex states cryptically.
“Hey, were you afraid we would embarrass you?” I joke, taking Alex off guard. “I may not be a debutante, but I promise I’ll use the right fork. Well, most of the time, anyway … that shit can get a little confusing!”
“Of course I’m not embarrassed of y’all. I just want people’s opinion of me and my art to actually be about me. If people knew the type of family I came from, one of two things would happen. They would buy my art or be my friend because I come from an affluent family. Or they would never buy my art or be my friend because I come from an affluent family. I just want people to make their decisions about me based on how I make them feel and how my art makes them feel. Because of that, I’ve compartmentalized my life. I didn’t mean for it to happen; it just did.”
“Well, you know I love you, babe. Without you to balance us out, what would Marlo and I do? Post bail several times a year, that’s what!” I exclaim.
“I’d expect nothing less from you two! But seriously, I brought you here with an ulterior motive. I hope you won’t be angry with me, but I’m kind of staging a little one-woman intervention.” Alex cringes. Well, this doesn’t sound like very much fun …
“Just hear me out, Sara. I’ve been waiting for you to get out of this funk for months now. I’ve been biting my tongue, but I can’t anymore. I don’t think I’m doing you any favors by pretending everything is fine. So here goes …” Alex sucks in a deep breath and then exhales loudly. “I don’t like the story you’re writing for yourself.”
Alex sighs in relief, like this news is a ten-ton weight lifted off her chest. Unfortunately, I feel like she’s taken it off her and thrown that weight directly onto me.
“Well, Alex, I apologize if my choices in life are disappointing to you,” I reply stiffly. I feel myself bristling even more as I digest Alex’s words.
“I’m sorry, this isn’t coming out the way I had planned. Let me try to explain. I just told you that my parents decided who I was, and they expected me to fit that mold. But they obviously got it wrong. Well, ever since you and Mason split up, I think you have decided that you’re the villain and you don’t deserve to be happy. And you have it all wrong, too. You’re messing up your story. You are not a villain, Sara.”
“Well, let’s face it, I’m definitely not the good guy …”
“I don’t believe there are good guys and bad guys in this instance. You are a beautiful, kind, and loving person who made a hasty decision—which just makes you human. All these months, you just keep your head down and your mouth shut. You don’t even defend yourself when people make assumptions about you. I know they would feel differently if you would just tell them the truth. I think you’ve punished yourself enough, don’t you?”
Alex holds eye contact with me, not allowing me to look away. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. “I feel like today is the turning point for me, ya know? Mason has moved on, and I am willing myself to do the same. Honestly, I don’t care what people think about me. I won’t be able to change their mind—do you think they give a shit about semantics or my motivation? I won’t need to defend myself with the people who are my true friends. They know that I’m a good person who made a bad decision for all the right reasons … and I’m finally starting to get that, too.”
“I’m going to make changes in my life—changes that will make me proud of who I am. I don’t want to feel ashamed anymore. I’m tired of feeling guilty. I know you’re right. I’ve bowed out of life and let things just keep on going around me. I’m going to try to change that, I promise. I guess I’m a work in progress …” My lips turn up in a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.
“You’re already someone I’m proud of, and I love you for it, babe!” Alex replies, attempting to lighten the mood. She lies back onto h
er branch and closes her eyes again, soaking up the sun. “I have a suggestion for both of our future stories. We both need to put a hot man in the mix … and very soon!”
“Not just any hot man,” I joke. “A hot fireman!”
“With an extra-large hose, if you know what I mean! Ha!”
“Wow, that got raunchy quick.”
We spend a good part of the afternoon resting on that water oak, napping and relaxing. If I plan on all these life changes, I figure I should get my rest while I can.
“We Are Family” by Sister Sledge
“On the Radio” by Donna Summer
MY MOM AND I have always been a really down-to-earth family. It’s been just the two of us for a long time, so I guess we didn’t see the need for a great deal of formality. For example, my favorite dinners growing up, hands down, were our mac-and-cheese nights.
She always made a big deal about the milestones in my life, no matter how small. It was probably about her overcompensating for the absence of any other family, but I loved it. Dance recitals, spelling bees, school dances—hell, that woman even celebrated my period! The occasion may have changed each time, but the mac-and-cheese was always a constant. And the night was not complete unless the two of us were sitting Indian-style on the kitchen floor eating straight out of the pot and giggling like schoolgirls. Lots of secrets were shared those nights at our house.
As I sit down for a meal with Alex and her parents at the country club, I get the distinct impression that this isn’t a place where secret sharing would be welcome. Alex is right; her parents appear to be kind and loving people. Even so, I still have the urge to stab myself in the eye with my salad fork … or is that my dinner fork? I don’t know, but the whole dinner is just so fucking civilized. I want someone to laugh out loud instead of just chuckling politely. I want to see two people hug each other tightly instead of air kissing the other’s cheeks. These people need to let it all hang out … they need a pot of mac-and-cheese.
Following dinner, we wish Alex’s parents good night, of course with air kisses on each cheek.
“I think we are going to hang around the clubhouse for a while, Momma. We’ll take a cart home later.”
I hope Alex knows something that I don’t, because one more minute with the Stuffy McStuffersons at this club and I might explode. I’m hoping my girl knows how to find some fun in the land of stuffed shirts. After a barrage of niceties, Alex and I are left on our own.
“Sorry to put you through that, Sara. My family dinners can be a bit mind numbing. But you’re in for a treat, my friend. Let’s go have some fun!”
“Let’s do it! Lead the way.”
Alex leads me to the far end of the dining area and into the kitchen. The kitchen staff light up when they see Alex, hugging her and offering well wishes. Alex remembers all their names and even asks about various family members. It’s obvious she genuinely cares about all of them, and they love her, too. We continue through the kitchen and down a long hallway, and I begin to hear the faint sound of laughter. Before she opens the door at the end of the hallway, Alex looks at me excitedly and takes in a deep breath.
I follow her into the room that’s filled with screaming and a flurry of bodies. I suppress the urge to curl up in a ball and play dead as the sound of women shrieking floods my senses. Once I get my bearings, I see four women, probably in their forties, hovering excitedly over Alex.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my friend, Sara. Sara, this is Anna, Jessie, Marie, and Ebony. These are the ladies who kept me sane while I grew up in this crazy place.” Alex says affectionately.
“If you must know, we are the ones who stole the stick that was supposed to go up Alex’s ass, like the rest of these snobs around here. We couldn’t have our sweet girl turning out like the rest of them!” The woman who was introduced as Jessie hugs Alex around the waist after slapping her on the ass. Jessie is a few inches shorter than Alex’s five-foot-nine inches and has dark hair pinned up in a bun and kind, chocolate brown eyes. It’s also obvious that this woman comes with a side helping of sass. She, like the other three women, is still in her work uniform.
“It’s nice to meet all of you. I’m happy to say that no one has located said stick, and Alex is doing just fine.” I laugh. “Did we interrupt something?”
“No, baby, you were just about to join something. I hope you guys are up for one mean card game. The girls are feisty tonight!” This comes from Anna, who is sitting at the card table, shuffling the cards as we speak.
“Great! I love poker. Deal me in.” I’m actually a pretty good poker player, and I think I’ll have an advantage since Alex’s friends don’t know me. They’ll have a hard time knowing when I’m bluffing.
“Who said anything about poker? We always play a mean game of Go Fish.” Ebony narrows her eyes at me. “Now, don’t start thinking that we’re soft or that you’re gonna clean our clocks. We are the sharks of Go Fish, ya hear me?”
Alex throws her head back and laughs. “Don’t worry, Ebony, Alex knows better than to underestimate her opponents. I brought four rolls of quarters, so deal us in, we’re ready!”
Everyone takes a seat at the table, and Anna starts dealing the cards. It takes me a little while to catch on to how you bet, call, and raise with a game of Go Fish, but I start getting the hang of it. When I say that I’m getting the hang of it, I am by no means implying that I’m winning; these women are ruthless.
The game continues as old dance-slash-wedding music like Kool and the Gang and Donna Summer fills the room. It doesn’t take long before the ladies start prying into Alex’s love life, and of course, I give them a little ammunition. Hey, better her than me, right?
“So, Sara, how’s our girl doing in the love department?” Marie lifts her eyebrows up and down suggestively. “Is she getting laid on the regular?”
“Marie, I can’t believe you!” Alex acts offended, but deep down it’s obvious she’s a little amused.
“Well, Marie, I don’t know about the getting laid part, but she does date. No one lasts very long, though. Alex finds something wrong with all of them. And once the flaw is uncovered, it’s to the curb they go!” Alex puts both hands on her chest and slumps in her chair like I’ve shot her.
“Sara, you’re exaggerating. You make me sound picky … if I dump anyone, I swear I have a legitimate complaint.” Alex pouts.
“Eric?”
“His hair always looked greasy. I mean, fry some fish up in that bitch, greasy. It made me question how often he showered.”
“Kent?”
“His nose turned up in a way that made it look like he was always smelling shit.”
“Doug?”
“He did the Gangnam Style dance when we went out. I actually felt my vagina drying up. What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Alex surveys the table, looking perplexed. “None of you want to date a greasy-headed man either!”
“Darlin’, that’s some weird ass shit that you just laid out for us, but I’m gonna stand by you this time. Now, let me tell you why. When you meet him, all that bullshit will fade away. His nose might turn up, his hair may be greasy, hell, he might centipede across the dance floor on your first date, but you won’t even see it. You won’t see it because of how he makes you feel. And that’s what I want for you, my girl. And that’s why I say that you should go ahead and kick their asses to the curb when you don’t feel it.” Ebony sits back in her chair, crosses her arms, and lets out a big sigh to let us know she’s through saying her piece.
“How did you know your husband was the one, Eb?” Alex leans forward and puts her elbows on the table, looking more interested than before.
“Oh, honey, I love my husband very much, but he’s not my one true love. I stupidly let that man go. Pride can be a terrible thing … that’s why I want you girls to listen to your heart. Love can be tricky, and not everyone gets it right. Now, Marie married her one true love. Tell them how you knew Reggie was the one for you,” Ebony says and directs her und
ivided attention to Marie.
Marie sits quietly for a couple of seconds, eyes closed, lips pursed, likely searching for the right words. She looks up at Alex and me. “Ebony talked about how a man’s flaws become less important when the connection is there, and I think that goes both ways. I mean—when I started dating Reggie, I saw a different person when I looked in the mirror. The way he treated me and felt about me made me feel beautiful. He made me feel desired. Every woman deserves to feel that way, and that’s how I knew Reggie and I were meant to spend our lives together.”
After talking with Alex’s friends, I feel absolutely certain that I made the right choice for Mason and me, however bad my delivery may have been. I hope that Mason found that kind of love with Natalie. Remembering the look on his face when he spoke of her, I feel sure that he did, and I find solace in that realization. I can’t help but pray that I find that kind of love, too. I pray that one day I’ll be worthy of it.
Hope Over Fear (Over #1) Page 3