“Party?”
“Yes, it is. Just a small something to bring my new friends together.”
Shanda licked her dry lips. She felt foolish in her dress as everyone, including Ralph wore more casual outfits. He was in shorts.
“Girlfriend?” She blurted out, her voice and her words betraying her emotions.
Ralph shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes everywhere but on her.
“You know how it is, just fooling around,” he answered. Shanda felt torn between being angry with him for seeing that woman, or angry with herself for expecting him to not be.
No, I don’t know how it is! I don’t fool around, she thought. She had the sense not to say it out loud, however.
Tears prickled her eyes and Shanda knew if she stayed a moment longer, she would dissolve into hysterical sobs. But she stood tall. She would make more of a fool of herself if she were to leave like that.
“Looks like a fun party,” she said, forcing a cheer. “Can I join in?”
It seemed the right thing to say, for Ralph cheered up, smiled, and took her hand.
“Come, I’ll introduce you to everybody. They’re really swell people Shanda, you’ll like them.”
Armed with a glass containing a concoction of drinks, Shanda followed Ralph around, her sight blurred by tears. She smiled and obediently repeated everybody’ name and gushed about how pleased she was to meet them. Inside, she was a void of emptiness, a former shell of herself. She was relieved when the introductions were over and done with.
Ralph led her to a two-seater, a fat, overstuffed chair, and they sat together, an uncomfortable silence between them. What had happened to the camaraderie they had enjoyed back in school? It seemed to have vanished, just as all of her hopes had. She felt so stupid. He looked the same, but sitting next to him now felt like sitting next to a stranger instead of with her soulmate.
“How are the gang, Flora and Tony?” he shouted to be heard above the music.
“They’re well, they send their love,” Shanda shouted back. It took an immeasurable amount of strength for her to keep her voice from wavering.
Ralph’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed that piece of information. Shanda now knew what a huge mistake it had been showing up without telling him. It was unfair of her, and she’d put a lot of unneeded pressure on both Ralph and herself, but she had not been thinking properly. The blonde came sashaying towards them and with a dip of her cleavage, she took Ralph’s hand and pulled him to his feet.
“Come on, let’s dance,” she drawled.
Ralph glanced at Shanda apologetically and she waved him off with an indulgent smile, which froze as soon as he looked away. Shanda was too exhausted to get up from her chair and instead, she washed down her cocktail in one gulp. It stung as it went down her throat, but she stood up and went to the drinks table to pour herself another. If there were ever a time when it was appropriate for her to have an extra drink or two—that time had come.
She turned to the dance floor and saw Ralph and the blond girl, dancing so close you could not tell where Ralph’s body ended and the girl’s body began. He seemed to have completely forgotten her presence as his blond girlfriend turned and grated her back against him. Shanda downed her cocktail. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and the effects were swift and sudden.
She took to the dance floor and swayed to the music, aware of Ralph and his girl not too far from her. He just had to realize that he loved her, she drunkenly told herself. She popped open her eyes and looked at them again. Shanda let out a small yelp. Ralph and his girlfriend were wrapped around each other, their mouths locked in a passionate kiss. The alcohol flew out of Shanda’s brain, along with the temporary warmth it provided, and she felt cold and stone sober.
It was too much to take. She skirted around the crowd, and returned to the kitchen where she found a bottle of vodka. She was not going to let herself cry. She drank tot after tot, the usually nauseating spirit having no effect on her taste buds; they, like everything else, were numb.
Alone in the kitchen, music blaring in the background, she had visions of growing old, alone and loveless. Shanda had no awareness of the time as she continuously drank vodka. After that, she had no recollection of what happened at all.
She woke the following morning, and the first thing that Shanda noticed was how blindingly bright the room was. Her head pounded mercilessly as she lay, her head propped upon her hand. The events of the previous night came to her. She let herself fall back to the bed. Oh God! How could everything have gone so wrong?
Shanda opened her eyes again and was hit by soft rays of sunlight that should have brought warmth to her heart. Instead, the beautiful morning was a reminder that she had truly lost Ralph. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she looked around and frowned. She had thought she was in the guest house, but the room she now slept in was small, and sparsely furnished.
She tried to remember what had happened after she’d had her vodka binge in the kitchen, and failed. Her stomach did a dance and she could feel it preparing to expel its contents. Shanda jumped from the bed, made for the door and then looked up and down the hallway, trying to figure out the direction of the bathroom. Feeling the puke and bile rise in her throat, she sprinted down the hall, her hand over her mouth as her stomach lurched, and she pushed open the first door she came across.
Shanda almost wept with relief when it turned out to be the toilet. She knelt over the bowl and heaved, making ugly retching sounds that reverberated throughout the house. They echoed loudly enough in the bathroom. She knew she’d wake someone up. Sure enough, a gentle knock at the door confirmed that she had.
“Are you alright Shanda?”
Shit! Ralph. It could not get any worse. She ignored him, took some toilet tissue from the roll, wiped her mouth, and flushed. She turned abruptly and bumped into him. Her body became rigid with humiliation. But then Ralph spoke to her, and the liquid, syrupy bass of his voice took her back to the first time they’d met:
“Did I bump into you—twice?” he said softly.
Shanda broke down. Ralph pulled her into his chest and held her tight. She cried without shame or pride. She wasn’t even sure she had any pride left after whatever had happened the night before. When she calmed down, Ralph took her to the sink and washed her face. She looked like a monster with mascara streaming down her cheeks but for once, Shanda did not care. It was now truly over.
She looked down at herself and to her horror, saw that she was only in her panties and bra. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to get out of there and return to Oregon. She quickly wrapped her arms around her exposed midsection and turned her back to Ralph.
“I’ll just get dressed and leave, OK?” she said.
“Can we talk first?” the Ralph she remembered asked.
Shanda shook her head. She had gone through enough humiliation. It was time to lick her wounds and return home.
“What would be the point?” she said.
Ralph looked down. She turned and went back to the room she’d woken up in, changed into her clothes, and in seconds she was out on the street hailing a cab. As she threw herself into the safety of the cab, she heard Ralph call her name. She turned back once as the cab pulled away. He stood in the middle of the street, his hands on his hips, staring after the departing vehicle.
In the hotel room, Shanda called the airline, rescheduled her flight, and then took a quick shower. She threw her dirty clothes into her bag, slid on the sunglasses she had specifically bought for her visit west, and left. Her brain was numb as she went through the motions of checking in. She felt removed from her body, as if she had become someone else.
She craved her small apartment. Her tiny bathroom and dirty old couch. She couldn’t wait to get there, slip into her own bed and cover herself, and try and forget Ralph. She had no choice now. If only she had listened to Flora. On remembering Flora, Shanda guiltily searched for her cell phone. She glanced at the dark screen. It had
no charge. Feeling enervated, she sank back into her chair and listened to the aircraft’s engines as they roared into life.
Chapter 7
Her duvet covered her from head to toe. She was grateful to be back home, but she could not stop herself from replaying what she could remember of her time in California.
Shanda’s mind went over and over her encounter with Ralph, like a fugue. It had the same start, the same middle, and the same end, and still, she went back for another round. She alternated between cursing herself for her behavior, analyzing what she could have done differently, and breaking into tearless sobs. It was her first morning after having arrived home the previous day. She had gone straight to bed, slept, woke up, cried some more and slept again. She could hear the relentless wind as it howled and swirled outside, but she had no wish to even peek through the window. She was fine with the view of the underside of her duvet. For now.
She had envisioned and shaped her whole future with Ralph and now it felt as though the ground had been removed from beneath her feet. Shanda’s mind still stubbornly refused to contemplate a future without him. She felt caged by her own unwillingness to just let go, but she also felt the unbearable truth that their tie was now officially severed. She curled herself into the fetal position. How wonderful it would have felt to be back, safe inside the womb. To be reborn, to start anew. The world terrified her, and her own place in that world, terrified her. The confidence she had always felt about her future had ebbed, leaving her vulnerable and without a sense of purpose.
The apartment was ear-splittingly silent, something that Shanda had not noticed before. Her whole body felt sore and exhausted, yet her mind was fully alert and working at warp speed. It was odd, this feeling of disconnection from everything. She did not seem to care about the things that had mattered to her before she went to California. At the back of her mind, Shanda knew she was due back to work in four days, but the very thought that at one point she would need to wake up, seemed impossible.
She must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing she knew; there was a loud banging on her door. Shanda covered her ears with her hands and willed the noise to go away. Eventually whoever was out there would go away. The knocking continued for a while and then mercifully whoever it was, stopped. She returned to her mental cocoon, where she and Ralph still existed.
He had the most perfect hands, Shanda recalled. Long and slender and oh so gentle. Ralph didn’t want to be with her, and Shanda knew she would never find love like that again. Besides, the very thought of being with anyone but Ralph was unfathomable. Shanda knew she should eat, but she dismissed that thought as soon as it entered her mind. She should have begged him! Made him see how right they were for each other. The day passed in a blur of sleeping and waking. The door banged again. Shanda lifted her head towards the window and saw that darkness had fallen.
She heard Flora’s voice through the fog of sleep.
“Shanda! Are you there?”
Guilt flooded her at the realization that her friend was likely worried sick about her. On the other hand, her brain pulled her back to slumber, her limbs too weak to fight it. The voice came again, louder and urgent. Shanda shook her head and forcefully swung her legs over the side of her bed and she staggered towards the living room to the front door.
She turned the lock and opened the door.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Shanda blinked several times before her eyes opened enough to take in Flora and Tony standing at her door.
“Sleeping?” she muttered.
“We were so worried about you Shanda!”
Flora’s fingers were folded into fists and her eyes were blazing with rage and recently-stilled fear. It hit Shanda then, how unfair it had been of her not to text Flora. She lowered her eyes in shame.
“I’m so sorry,” she said and then burst into tears.
“Look, I’ll leave you two,” Tony stuttered. “You’ll be alright Shanda,” he added, and turned to leave.
“I knew this would happen to you! Damn Ralph,” Flora cursed as she took hold of Shanda’s arm and steered her into the apartment. “When was the last time you ate?”
Shanda shook her head. “I don’t know but I’m all right really. I’m not hungry at all.”
“I’ll make you some scrambled eggs; they’re easy on the tummy,” Flora offered. Shanda nodded.
When Flora left the room, Shanda curled up on the couch and closed her eyes. Thankfully, her migraine seemed to have gone, and she let herself drift off into a state of nothingness. It seemed as though only seconds had gone by before Flora returned with a plate of scrambled eggs and a glass of water. Shanda sat up and dutifully took the plate.
She looked at and smelled the food with rising nausea.
“Go on, get it down. Just try a bite. You’ll feel better, I promise,” Flora commanded.
Shanda took the first spoonful and closed her eyes as she ate. It tasted like cardboard, but it did not churn her stomach. She ate as quickly as she could, knowing it was the only way to get Flora off her back. When she finished, she placed the plate on a stool and sat back in her chair.
“So, I take it the surprise didn’t go so well,” Flora said as gently as she was able to. Even though her words were harsh against Shanda’s ears, and even though they stung her heart, Flora’s voice was tender and full of concern.
It was the kindness in her voice that did it. Shanda dissolved into tears again.
“He has a girlfriend, a girl to fool around with!” Shanda blurted out amidst sobs.
Flora sighed deeply. Shanda blew into her handkerchief and then proceeded to tell Flora all of what she could recall of the incident. It did feel good talking about it, almost as though she were exorcising that awful night from her mind by allowing it to spill from her lips. After Shanda had told her whole tale, she found that she could not cry again. There were no more tears left.
“Come on Shanda, you’re a strong girl. There is so much more to you than Ralph. He doesn’t define you. You’re a brilliant woman, and a talented musician. I promise you, your life is nowhere near over. You can’t let this destroy you. There’s someone out there for you. You have to believe that,” Flora encouraged.
Shanda wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know Flora; it’s just so hard and painful.”
Flora moved from her chair and sat next to Shanda. She put an arm around her.
“Don’t you think you’ve given Ralph enough of your years? Isn’t it time to focus on yourself now?”
Shanda remembered that first time when she and Ralph had met, and they had made out in her room, falling a little short of making love. It seemed as if it were years ago. Flora was right. She couldn’t keep pining over a man who obviously did not feel the same for her. It was unproductive, and it kept her stuck in a fugue of pain. Over and over. Shanda ignored the voice in her head that had, for years, been telling her that Ralph loved her.
She had listened to that voice for far too long.
“What do I do now?” she mused.
“Why, you live your life as you did before, but now you do it without fantasizing about Ralph. It’s time to face reality, Shanda. Ralph is gone. You’re beautiful and smart and you have the world at your feet.”
The words made Shanda feel wonderful, as if indeed she could forget about him and finally live her life for herself. She deserved that.
“You know,” Flora said pensively, “It might turn out to be a wonderful stroke of luck that you and Ralph did not get together.”
Shanda stared at her in shock but said nothing. Not getting together with Ralph would never, ever turn out to be a stroke of luck. Never. She still loved him as she did before she went to California. She just had to learn to live without him. She would learn to live with the pain of unrequited love the way a person with chronic back pain learns to work and live through the things that cause them to hurt. Still, she thought with a shrug, Flora was doing her best to cheer her up.
&nbs
p; But hours later, after Flora had left, taking with her the spare key, the euphoria left Shanda and she felt as empty as she did before Flora had visited her. Who was she kidding? She loved Ralph too much. How in God’s name would she be able to move on? Already in her pajamas, Shanda retired to bed for the night and as she lay there, a thought crossed her mind.
What if Ralph had e-mailed her? Told her what a mistake it had been, that he wanted her in his life. With an agility she did not know she possessed, Shanda jumped from bed and ran to the living room where her laptop was. She flipped it open and turned it on, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for it to come to life.
Her heart beat hard when she saw an email from him. Damn! She had wasted all those tears when all she needed to have done was check her mail. She suspended her breath as she waited for the mail to open. When it did, it took a moment for the words to sink in.
Hi Shanda,
I hope you made it back to Oregon alright. I was really worried about you and how you left; we didn’t even get a chance to speak. I’ve thought about it a lot since you left and I can only guess at the reason you had come down to California. I’m sorry it had to end this way. I really hoped that we could remain friends, but I’ve come to realize that a friendship isn’t going to be possible. I will always love you but as we agreed, we must both hook up with other people and move on. I guess the timing never was right for us, was it? I wish you all the best, and I hope that one day we can truly be friends.
Take care,
Ralph.
Shanda covered her mouth with her hands. Her body shook and she was attacked first by cold, and then unbearable heat. She felt as if she had contracted a raging fever that very moment. The letter was so cold and so final. If there had been shreds of hope left anywhere in her heart, they were gone now. She knew without a doubt that there would never be a her and Ralph. He had never seen her as wife material, or even as girlfriend material. He hadn’t ever cared for her the way she had for him.
She curled into herself on the sofa, her eyes glued to the blurred words of the e-mail. The frantic feeling that had been with her all day was gone; instead, she felt a deep sense of sadness and loss. She felt as though she had lost someone who had been very special to her. Except that she had lost him a long time ago. And was only now processing the loss.
A Maze of Love Page 8