In the next few days, Shanda forced herself out of bed and, one evening, she even went across town to visit her mom. That visit, too, had been a monumental mistake. Her mom had changed. She had become unrecognizable from the matronly woman Shanda knew.
“What happened to your hair?” Shanda had asked her, staring at her spiked, dyed hair with horror.
“Why? Do you like it?” her mother asked, adopting a young girl’s voice. She had then leaned closer to Shanda and confided. “I have a new beau, his name’s Edward and he loves the new me.”
Well I don’t! Shanda wanted to shout, but she held her tongue. She had visited with the aim of bridging the gap that had grown between them, and maybe even confiding in her mom about what had transpired with Ralph.
“Have you heard from dad?”
“Who?” her mom asked, her expression puzzled.
Her memory returned after a few minutes and she shrugged. “Yes, he wrote me an email a while back, I haven’t gotten round to answering it. He asked about you. You should write to him. Anyway, where were we?”
Her mom had only been interested in herself and Edward. She was completely indifferent to Shanda and what had been happening in her life. Shanda stayed a few more minutes and then fled, her mom’s protests following her out the door.
“But I wanted you to meet Edward!”
“Another time mom,” Shanda said, before disappearing down the stairs.
Now she felt truly alone, except for Flora, who called her every other ten minutes. The meddling and constant calls from Flora were even worse than what an overbearing mother was capable of, Shanda now thought as she got ready for work. After staying cooped up in her apartment for days, she was looking forward to going back to work. She was tired of thinking about Ralph and what might have been.
She immersed herself in work; luckily, there was a new, big project from a chain of department stores. She only lost her focus once in the bathroom. Ralph had come roaring into her mind, the pain of the rejection hitting her afresh as though it were a new wound… Shanda locked herself up in an abandoned cubicle and tried to muffle her sobs. Afterwards, she washed her face and returned to her desk, taking care to keep her red-rimmed eyes downcast.
The nights were the worst. She prowled her apartment like a caged animal, unable to control her thoughts. In bed, Shanda tossed and turned and tried to keep her thoughts away from Ralph. It was like fighting an approaching tornado. Her strength was certainly no match for that of a natural disaster. Finally, she succumbed to the thoughts and let herself remember his sweet love-making and the way he had spooned her afterwards.
She had never fallen in love with another man and she now wondered whether she was destined to be one of those women who only fell in love once in her lifetime. The very thought was depressing and she promised herself she would go out often. She would even agree to the double dates that Flora was always throwing at her.
Sleep came at two in the morning and by then; her brain was so exhausted that four hours of sleep were not enough. When she woke up, tangled up in her bed sheets, Shanda felt as if something had shifted. It was as if she had come out of a long, dark tunnel to the other side, full of sunlight. Suddenly, the rest of her life did not seem so dismal. The future did not seem so frightening or restrictive.
She sang as she showered and then dressed for work. She was a survivor. She had lived through many personal tragedies in her lifetime, and she would survive this as well. She would not turn into the woman her mother had become—so desperate for love she was willing to change anything about herself to suit that man’s liking.
Out in the streets, she smiled as she walked, despite the bleak weather and the dark clouds that promised a rainy, dreary day. She couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled. A brown leaf flew ahead of her and she wanted to run after it and catch it in her hand, as she had done when she was a little girl.
The trees were stripped bare of their leaves, and people strode briskly without glancing at others. Shanda smiled again. She was not part of that group any more. There was sunlight in her heart again.
Chapter 8
Ralph chose to walk home after work, his jacket slung over his shoulder. Californians were obsessed with jogging, he thought idly. The figures passed him by without glancing his direction, but he was used to it now. A year was a long time to remain mesmerized by a new state. The one thing he missed about Oregon was people’s friendliness.
Many of the guys he had been with at the University had settled down in Oregon, and though he had made tons of friends in Sacramento, he yearned for his old friends. His mind strayed to Shanda. She had not replied to his email and he had left it at that. He wondered if she had gotten over her hurt and he felt a fresh wave of guilt. He was a different person than the one he had been a year earlier.
The urge to party and date every pretty girl had left him. His personal life pretty much resembled that of the standard, lonely octogenarian. He was worried that he’d soon be yelling at the neighborhood children to not cross through the courtyard on their way to school.
The only part of his life that was great was his work life. He had been promoted to become project manager for a team of ten people. Despite that, Ralph felt an emptiness in his soul, as if something were lacking. His mind kept returning to that night when Shanda showed up, looking beautiful (albeit desperate) in that black dress.
He recalled the way the dress hugged her curves and how sexy she looked with her golden-brown hair flowing to her shoulders. He itched to run his fingers through her hair, and to kiss her sexy mouth. Hard. The only thing that held him back was the knowledge that, as soon as he did that, Shanda would take it to mean that they were a couple. And he just hadn’t been ready for that kind of thing.
The timing had been all wrong. It had always been wrong. She’d decided to visit during those months that had been his time to find himself, and to gain footing in his career. If only it had happened later. If only it had happened right now. He thought of Shanda often, far more often than he should have been. He had sat down twice, fingers poised over his keyboard to write her another e-mail. But what was there to say? It wouldn’t be fair to disrupt her life again, and he hoped that, by now, she had settled down.
The thought of Shanda settling down, disturbed him. Ralph chuckled at himself. He wanted her to settle down on his terms. Date several guys, but not settle for one. He suddenly longed to hear her laugh, and to watch her when she was solemn. She had this small crease on her forehead that you could only see if you really leaned in close, an action which he had considered himself fortunate to have been allowed to take.
And she was hot in bed. If he were being honest with himself, the greatest sex that Ralph had ever had was with Shanda. She had a way of letting herself go, getting caught up in the moment, and completely losing herself. He had felt one with her when they made love, and he had never experienced that feeling with anyone else. In the following days, thoughts of Shanda plagued him and he ached to get some information about her.
Seeing that he didn’t want to write to her, he opted to e-mail Flora, her best friend, instead. He had her e-mail address somewhere, Ralph thought, scrolling through his inbox. He and Tony had kept up a steady stream of impersonal communication by sending each other interesting forwards with short notes, and inquiring how the other was doing.
Tony had done well for himself, too, working in a real estate firm and steadily climbing the corporate ladder. He recognized Tony’s e-mail, and in the address list, he saw Flora’s. Ralph took a deep breath and questioned himself over the wisdom of emailing her. She had never warmed up to him, but thinking about those University years, he did not blame her. He had behaved in a despicable manner, stringing Shanda along while having a girlfriend. She was being a good friend, warning Shanda to stay away from him. He was nervous about contacting Flora. With her protective spirit, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had a string of horrible things to say to him.
Still, he was desperate
to hear something about Shanda, and who better to ask than the person who knew her the most? He opened a fresh page and braced himself. He would keep the note light, sort of like one friend inquiring about another, long-lost one. Which, Ralph supposed, was exactly the situation in which he found himself. Well, almost exactly.
Hey Flora,
How’s it going? It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? I’m good here in Sacramento, working my ass off and trying to settle down into adulthood. (Time to put the fun days behind huh?). You and Tony have really managed to keep your relationship going since University days. I’m pretty sure that soon, there will be wedding bells. I’ve been thinking about Shanda a lot and worrying over her. She never did email me after she returned home. How is she doing?
Cheers,
Ralph.
He thought the ending was a little abrupt, but writing the short note had been a struggle for him, and he was just happy to be done with it. He read it over again and then forced himself to hit the ‘send’ button before he changed his mind. Ralph leaned back on his couch and let his mind wander. Would a year have changed Shanda’s looks? She was one of the most beautiful girls he had known, with a freshness and innocence that was truly appealing. Even if she had changed, gained weight, gray hairs, wrinkles—whatever. It didn’t matter. He just wanted to see her. To know that she was okay.
A beep indicating a new e-mail interrupted his thoughts. He bolted upright and clicked it open. He stared in dismay at the one liner.
Why don’t you ask her yourself?
He felt as though he had been punched in the stomach, even though he had braced himself for worse. Flora’s dislike was evident. God! She has not even made an effort to be friendly. He had no answer for her, and he knew that she would not be forthcoming with any information. He leaned back on the couch and told himself to forget Shanda. He had tried, and come up against a wall.
It must have been ten minutes later, as Ralph watched the news when his laptop beeped again. He turned to it without enthusiasm and he was surprised to find an email from Flora.
Hi Ralph,
If it were up to me, I would not be writing this email but according to Tony, it’s terrible manners to treat an old friend (?) in such a dismissive manner. I don’t know why you’re interested in Shanda’s welfare after all this time. Did you ask when she came back a wreck and wouldn’t leave her bed or eat for days?
Thankfully, that’s now in the past. You wanted to know how she is. Well she’s great and dating this wonderful guy, Greg, who treats her with the love and respect she deserves. We think a proposal is on the way and we couldn’t be happier for Shanda. In spite of you, Shanda is still the wonderful, loving person she always has been.
Satisfied? I hope so. My advice—Shanda is happy now, so stay the hell away from her. Let her be happy, she deserves it. It’s too late for whatever you have in mind—or don’t. Have a good life.
Flora
Touché. He probably deserved that. Greg huh? He couldn’t remember knowing a Greg, and for that he was grateful. It would hurt even more to be able to visualize someone he knew with Shanda. Guess he had lost that one, Ralph thought. He had no one to blame but himself. The future suddenly seemed bleak to Ralph.
The knowledge that Shanda had settled down into a relationship depressed him. Yes, it was selfish of him, but he would have preferred to know that she was single and that she still loved him. Because he knew now that all along he had loved Shanda. Ralph looked at the time. Just eight o’clock in the evening. The weekend stretched out before him. His apartment was eerily silent and on a whim, he decided to join his friends at the new club downtown.
He could not stand his own company for a moment longer and after a quick shower and change of clothes, he left and flagged a cab downstairs. That night, Ralph consumed more alcohol than he ever had. He wanted to numb the pain, which had begun as a pea-sized hurt and had grown into momentous proportions as the evening wore on. He laughed too hard at his friends’ jokes to mask the fact that, on the inside, he wanted to cry.
At midnight, the club played love songs and couples danced on the dance floor, their arms wrapped around each other. He ached for Shanda. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let her slip through his fingers?
“Are you alright man?” his friend Howard asked him.
Ralph nodded. “I’m good, man, just feeling the lack of a girl.”
“I know what you mean. They are a pain though, but they have their uses.”
Ralph laughed as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, but it wasn’t. It was kind of gross. Shanda had never been a pain, he thought. Even at the times he thought she was bothering him. She had just been trying to get him to see what she was seeing, and what she’d known that he felt. And he’d brushed her off like she was some sort of pest. He deserved to not be with her. She was special, unlike other girls, who were always angling for a fight, or trying to test him in one way or another. Greg was a lucky dude, Ralph thought, his mouth filled with sour-tasting saliva.
Chapter 9
“I’ve always loved the idea of a winter wedding,” Flora gushed.
Shanda made a face. “You have always been a little weird, Flora.”
The group laughed. Greg sat across from Shanda at the table, and he took one of her hands into his. Shanda wiggled uncomfortably. For a reason she could not explain, public displays of affection with Greg made her uncomfortable. She felt as if she was pretending to be someone she was not. An imposter. A memory fleetingly crossed her mind. Her and Ralph holding hands outside her room when he had come to pick her up for Paul’s birthday party.
It was short, but the memory of her hand intertwined with Ralph’s had been sweet and had felt right. She shook her head free of the memories and concentrated on the moment. She sipped her chilly orange, loving the cold feeling that coated her throat as it went down.
“Let me see your ring again,” Shanda said to Flora, taking her hand from Greg’s and grabbing for her friend’s.
Flora was glad to extend her arm for her ring to be admired. Shanda gripped her friend’s hand and studied at the ring again. It looked huge on Flora’s small fingers, but it was beautiful in the way that the period pieces were placed.
“It belonged to Tony’s grandmother,” Flora said. “I love it. Imagine the stories it would tell, if it could. Granny’s survival in Eastern Europe, and her eventual journey to America. It makes me feel strong too, like I can handle anything.”
“You always could, Flora,” Shanda said in a dry tone.
“Granny would have loved you, sweetheart,” Tony said, kissing Flora lightly on the lips. Flora beamed at his compliment. She’d always loved being compared to strong women.
Shanda could feel Greg’s eyes on her. She stopped herself from looking at him, knowing she would find the questions there, and knowing that she wouldn’t be able to give him the answers he needed from her. Greg was always asking her questions, wanting to know what their future held. How was she to know? They sat around chatting for another hour, enjoying a light lunch.
“We got to go,” Tony said. “Mom’s having us over for dinner tonight with a few other members of the family. We’ll be making the big announcement tonight.”
Shanda shuddered inwardly. She wasn’t one for big families, or the constant gatherings that came with having a big family, and if she were to get married, she would prefer a small, intimate ceremony or even eloping. Tony had a big family, but Flora looked happy enough with the idea of a traditional wedding. Shanda was truly happy for her friend. It had taken Tony a full year of repeatedly proposing, and repeatedly being turned down before his persistence paid off and Flora finally accepted.
They left in a flurry of hugs and waves. Left alone in the garden restaurant, she and Greg smiled at each other. He was handsome in a non-threatening way, with soft brown eyes, and a smile that was genuine. He was sweet, and the kindest man she had ever met. Any woman would be lucky to be in a relationship with him. They ha
d been dating for seven months. After seeing how happy Tony and Flora were, Shanda analyzed her feelings for Greg, which was something she had avoided doing up to this point. She’d allowed those feelings to simmer in the corner of her mind, locked into an area she’d not given herself access to because doing so would open other doors to other memories, of other nights, with another man.
He did not make her heart do somersaults in her chest and when they made love, it was sweet and nice, but nothing out of this world. She hated to compare him to Ralph, but it was something she secretly did. He was comfortable, while Ralph was exciting. There had never been a dull moment with Ralph. But how many couples had that, really? And they’d only made love once, after all. Surely there would have been plenty of dull moments with Ralph had their relationship grown. There would have also been many comfortable moments. Shanda told herself that comfortable was good.
It meant that she would never get hurt because the one thing she knew for sure was that Greg would never hurt her.
“I can’t wait for the day you and I get married Shan,” he said.
Greg was the only person who shortened her name to Shan. She didn’t really like it, but she had never told him, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
“Yes, well, we do have plenty of time, though, to get to know each other better,” Shanda said with a smile.
“How much more time do we need to know each other baby?” Greg said, his tone solemn.
Shanda’s heart skipped a beat. He was serious this time. Usually when he brought up the subject of their future, it was in a casual tone; as if he was willing to wait until the day she was ready. With Flora’s wedding three months away, she had known that Greg would kick the questions up a notch, and he didn’t disappoint.
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