by Marilyn Grey
I finished my shopping in peace and asked an Ikea employee if he could help me load the truck I bought.
"Sorry," he said. "There are people outside that do that. Not me."
"Kay." I maneuvered my cart thingies to the side of the exit and pushed one outside. Don't know what he was talking about because there were no Ikea employees anywhere to be found, so I wheeled the cart to the yellow poles and went to get the moving truck, then parked it and stared at the stuff.
Kay....
I brought the other three carts out.
Stared at them.
Kay.
Okay.
Okay!
I could do this.
Oh, wait! Out of thin air, he appeared! The blue shirt I so wanted to see. I walked up to him and smiled. "Hey, um, the guy in there told me that you help load?"
He didn't speak. But he moved toward the truck and began throwing—yes, throwing—my new stuff into the car.
"Um, I can do it. Don't worry about it."
The lips on his face seemed real, but they didn't move at all. He threw another box in. The wood inside banged against the truck and probably shattered into a million pieces.
"Right," I said. "So, I can take care of it, but thanks."
He didn't make eye contact with me, just stood there reaching his hand out. I looked at his sweaty palm.
"Yes?" I stepped back.
He picked up another box.
"Do you speak English?"
He tipped it on to the back of the truck so that half of it was hanging toward me, then reached out his palm again. "Tip."
"Hark, he speaks!"
He narrowed his eyes and chewed his gum. "Tip."
"Isn't this your job?"
He extended his hand closer to me.
I shoved a five into his hand just to get him the hell away.
I swear, only me.
He disappeared into a secret door and I turned back to grab the box, but it fell on my foot. I seized up and grabbed the edge of the truck, leaning over as stars danced inside my head.
"That hurt," I said, looking down at my toe. It felt broken. Thankfully it only looked a little red, but as I loaded the rest of the enormous heavy boxes into the truck without the slightest bit of ease, the pain turned into hot prickly needles stabbing my toe from the inside out.
I worked fast, shoving the damn things into the truck and contemplating suing Ikea. When I got everything settled I closed the truck and wobbled inside, careful to put pressure on the side of my foot to relieve the pressure from my big toe. I went to the customer service desk and told them my story. They shrugged. More gum chewing.
"Is there a manager here?" I said.
"That would be me." Ryan pointed to his name tag.
"Right. Thanks. Okay." I turned and walked back to the truck, sat down in the driver's seat, and held my toe which was now turning black.
Great.
This unicycle didn't have medical insurance now that she was supposed to be eighteen and responsible with her own money.
So, I took myself home, driving with the outer edge of my foot pressing on the pedal and even then it hurt like, oh, about nine thousand wasps stinging me at once while setting my foot on fire for kicks.
I breathed in and out, cringing with each throb, until finally parking behind my lovely new apartment. There was no way I could move the rest of the boxes in myself. Not now. Not when I needed to figure out how to deal with a possibly broken and definitely excruciating toe.
I hobbled to the back door and did what I always do when life sucks. I popped my earphones in and played my favorite music. From my favorite movie. From my favorite hero ever.
Batman.
Batman Begins. The Dark Knight. The Dark Knight Rises. I played the Batman Begins soundtrack by the incredible Hans Zimmerman and James Newton Howard. Some girls fangirl over Chris Pinetree or whatever and I obsess over film composers. Or any composer really. If I were ever to fall in love it would definitely be possible for me to fall in love with a composer before even meeting him. Okay, I take that back, but I guess what I'm trying to say is I adore classical music and film scores get me a little too excited. Hence the reason I play them when I feel like burying my face in my pillow and screaming my head off.
Donovan's car wasn't parked anywhere around yet. Whew. Some peace and quiet for a bit would be nice, especially while I researched how to heal a crushed toe without the hospital.
I opened the back door and hummed along with the music, using my hands like a composer. For a second, I forgot about my toe, closed my eyes, and let the music fill me as I stepped inside and pretended I was standing in front of an orchestra with welcoming ears behind me.
I got pretty into it, if I do say so myself. Someone tapped me. I opened my eyes, hands still hanging in mid air, and saw dozens of eyes staring back at me with a "SURPRISE!" banner hanging over their heads. Donovan laughed as I took the headphones out of my ears, my other hand still hanging in the air to complete the song.
"Surprise," Mom said, walking toward me with open arms and glassy eyes perched right above her red nose. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you move. We were planning this and I wanted to make sure everything was prepared in time." She hugged me and sniffed. "I'm so proud of you, Janie."
"I ... I don't know what to say." I squeezed her back. "Thank you."
She let go, then Granny wrapped her arms around me and stepped on my toe.
"Ahhhh!!!!" I howled into the air and hopped on one foot.
Granny stepped back, shaking.
"Oh, shi—I mean, shoot. Shoot." I strained my neck while my friends and family looked at me like I was as nuts as I apparently was.
Granny trembled and looked back and forth. "I ... I ...."
"No, Granny," I said. "You're fine. I just hurt my toe. I'm sorry I scared you." I breathed in and out as the pain shot up to my thigh.
"Are you okay?" Donovan teetered between a laugh and genuine concern.
"My toe," I said between clenched teeth, pretending to smile for the others still staring at me. "Make them eat. Make them do something."
"All right everyone." Donovan clapped. "Let's go ahead and eat. Mrs. Austen created some fantastic food you're all gonna love." He gestured toward the dining room, my dining room, which now had a table sitting in the middle of it where I planned to put the table I just bought. And the couch. The couch I just bought was sitting in the living room along with a coffee table. The entire place was now filled with my favorite furniture.
Dad and Mom lingered near me. I exhaled. Dad glanced at my foot. I shook my head as though it were nothing. Mom knelt down and peered up at me with those motherly eyes. I waved my hands.
"It's nothing," I said. "Just a little bruise."
"When did this happen?" Dad said. "It looks brutal."
"It's okay. Really." I nodded toward the living room. "You guys did this? The furniture?"
Mom blushed as she stood up.
"How did you remember which furniture I liked?" I couldn't tell them I just bought every last one of those things. Man ... could've saved myself a toe.
"I just know you," Mom said.
"She pays attention." Dad pulled her into him and kissed the top of her head. "She's always paying attention to you guys."
My. Freaking. Toe. Was. Now. Radiating. Extreme. Pain. To. My. Brain.
"Excuse me," I said, trying not to limp away. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick."
Away I went. Pretending as though everything was normal as best as I could. All of these sweet people here to see me, to welcome me into my new place. I didn't want to let them down.
Autumn crossed her arms and stood in my path. "Care to explain?"
I shook my head and bit my lip. "Toe. Smashed it."
"Why didn't you go to the ER?"
"Shhhhh..."
"What if it's broken?"
"It's not. It's just smashed."
"Smashed? Into a billion broken pieces? It looks really bad."
> I brushed by hair. "Bathroom. I need a pillow to scream into."
"Afraid you won't find that on the toilet."
"Right." I cringed. "What should I do then?"
"Um, seek medical attention?"
"No insurance."
"I have some arnica."
"Quack sugar pills?"
"If you say so."
I brushed by her. "Ibuprofen."
"If you say so."
I sat in the bathroom only to realize that I was sitting, fully clothed, on an open toilet seat that gladly soaked my tunic as it draped down into the water. I took a deep breath and whispered to myself, "This is seriously the worst best day ever."
The ibuprofen helped me get through the party, but by the time everyone left I was about to fall on the floor and cry myself to sleep. Thing is ... I didn't sleep. Couldn't sleep. I took as much as ibuprofen as I could and still couldn't close my eyes without seeing bright dots flashing in my eyelids. The sound of Zoe giggling woke me up in the morning. Not that I had been sleeping. Just rolling around on my bed, twisting the covers around my face, and contorting my body into all sorts of strange positions that somehow eased the pain for a millisecond.
So, I guess what I mean is her giggle made me realize that I made it to another dawn. And if I didn't get my toe checked out soon, I'd never make it to another.
Mom texted me. Everything okay? You seemed unusual last night.
I decided to be honest. Think I broke my toe or at least smashed it into pieces.
Well, go to the ER then. Can you drive?
I think I can. But I don't have insurance.
You're still on our insurance. We aren't canceling it until you set up your own plan.
I shoved my phone in my purse and limped as I ran to the door, then limped back to get my flip flops on. And back to the door while yelling, "The night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you, the dawn is coming.”
Batman. Ever-inspiring.
This was cause for rejoicing.
I didn't lose a toe after all.
Chapter 10
I never thought I'd say this, but I actually dreaded when Donovan came over. It became one of those things where he sorta morphed into this other being when he was around Zoe. An obnoxious being. And no, I'm not just being mean here. I admit I can be a little cynical and meanish, but this is just reality.
I made myself comfortable on my new couch, elevated my foot, took my pain meds, and sketched some jacket designs while Donovan and Zoe watched a movie all cuddled on the other couch. That's normal. I'm totally okay with cuddling. What starts to creep me out is when girls or guys snap their fingers and their partners jump to serve them. It's nice and all to sacrifice for each other, but the keyword there is "each other," okay? That means both people jump to serve each other.
Not so with Don. Zoe this. Zoe that. She wanted a drink, he got it. She wanted an Oreo, he went out and bought some. She wanted milk, he bought a freaking cow.
Pen to paper, I watched Zoe out of the corner of my eye as she started moving her shoulders around. Then she rubbed her neck. Wait for it, wait for it....
"My back hurts so bad," she said. I knew it. Called that one a mile away.
And next, the inevitable....
"Want me to massage it?" Donovan said as expected.
She'd deny it at least once. And ... action!
"Oh, you're sweet, but you don't have to do that."
"No, I want to. I don't mind."
"No. It's okay." Oooh. A double denial.
"Come on. Turn over."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course he's sure," I said. "Just turn over already."
They stopped and looked at me.
I looked at my paper and shrugged. "Just trying to help move things along here."
"Don't be jealous because you have no one to rub your back for you," Zoe said.
I pointed my pencil toward her. "Pegged me."
"Okay," Donovan interjected. "Calm down."
"I'm calm," I said as I drew another pocket on the jacket design.
"Ugh." Zoe flipped over to her stomach, obviously not calm. When Donovan began to rub her shoulders, she whined and told him to go lower or higher or press his thumbs in more. "Donny, really? You call this a massage?
"I'm trying," he said.
"Try harder. This feels like something a first grader would do."
I sincerely hoped he had thrown that diamond ring out the window by now. What was he thinking?
"Donny!" she shrieked. "That's too rough." She sat up and motioned for him to lie down. "Let me show you how it's done."
He leaned down on his stomach and smirked at me. I smiled back, hiding my laughter. "Score," he mouthed. I shook my head, thankful that he was aware of how ridiculous she was acting.
He smiled during the entire massage as she instructed him on how and why her methods were so much better. "Can you show me that one again? I'm not sure I got it," he said about fifteen times.
I never understood his taste in girls.
Never would apparently.
"So," I said. "I'd like to go to Boston before I get the boutique started. I was thinking this weekend."
"With your toe?" Donovan sat up and looked at his very agitated girlfriend.
"I planned on bringing my toe, yes." I smiled.
Zoe rolled her eyes. "I thought I told you I didn't feel comfortable with that unless I could come?" She inched away from him and looked at her lap. "What's more important to you? Her? Or me?"
He did not want to answer that, but I nodded for him to say what she wanted to hear.
"You, babe," he said. "Of course."
"Then I want to come."
"You know," I said. "I've been having doubts about it anyway. Maybe I should just stay home."
"Really?" He searched my eyes for sincerity.
I gave him the most real fake sincerity I could manage. "Yeah. I don't want to upset Mom."
"Well." He eyed me up again, squinting. "Think about it a few days and let us know."
Oh, I'd think about it all right. And he'd forgive me when I left without them.
No freaking way I'd go on a car trip with Zoe. Absolutely not. I'd rather lose my toe for good.
I planned to leave Saturday morning. So I spent Friday night at Autumn's house so I could leave without anyone bothering me or asking about it. Anyone meaning ... the entity I now referred to as D and Z.
Autumn grabbed her iPad to rent a movie while I attempted to warm myself in her bed. She brought an enormous bowl of ice cream to me.
I pulled the blankets to my chin. "How in the hell do you expect me to eat ice cream when your air conditioner has made it, oh, below ten degrees in here?"
"Hell wouldn't be that cold."
"Huh?"
"You said how in the hell, but hell isn't cold."
"How would you know? Maybe hell is nothing like you imagine. Maybe it's worse. Maybe it's everything you hate about your life but fifty thousand times worse. Maybe it's the absence of everything good. Maybe it's—"
"Whoa. Put the horses back in the stable!"
"Sorry." I picked up the iPad. "Horses have been reigned back in and stabled. What shall we rent?"
"How about—"
"Really, though. What do you think hell is?"
She smacked the bed between us. "I knew it."
I blinked.
"I so knew you'd bring it back up. Horses may be in the stable, but they still won't stop yapping." She took a generous bite of ice cream and waved her spoon at me. "You're too deep for me."
I laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll let you pick the movie this time."
"Yeah, since you made me sit through another man flick."
"Not a man flick."
"Anything on National Geographic or the History Channel isn't considered a chick flick." She tapped the device a few times and brought up what I hoped, but knew, she would bring up. "This"—she clicked the rent button—"is gonna be so good."
I dropped my jaw and pretended to snore.
She whacked my arm. "Come on. It'll remind you of Alistair."
I snored louder.
She pinched my nose.
"Ow!"
"That's what my mom does to my dad." She laughed. "We'll be watching movies and when he falls asleep he snores so loud we can't hear. So she taps him, but nothing happens. The only thing that works is when she knees him in the shin or pinches his nose."
I laughed. "Sounds romantic."
"Well, they may not be Mr. and Mrs. Austen, but I like to think it's romantic in their own little way."
Something about those words stuck with me. For some reason I had never thought of it before. I always felt this pressure to be like the kind of romance my parents had, but maybe I needed to find my own romance. Maybe love wasn't Jane Austeny to me. Maybe it was something I hadn't discovered yet.
That kinda intrigued me.
"Ready?" She hit play.
"Ready as I'll ever be." I sighed as the movie started. Some indie film called Like Crazy about two peeps loving each other ... like crazy, I assumed. But as the movie progressed I felt something I'd never felt before. I felt my cheeks pulling my lips into a smile as the couple fell in love on screen. It was natural. It was real. It wasn't Jane Austeny or bursting with sparks. It was so ... nice.
The credits came up and I smiled as big as possible.
Autumn flopped back into her pillow and grunted. "Horrible ending." She looked back at the screen as though it would suddenly reveal the ending she hoped for. "Worst ever." She landed in the pillows again.
I crossed my arms over my chest and smiled. "Loved it."
"Are you serious?"
I nodded. "Loved it a lot."
"But that ending...."
"Was real."
"Annoying."
"Beautiful."
And so I learned ... beauty is annoying to some people. My beauty, at least.
Is it bad that I liked that?
Chapter 11
Maybe it was the movie that I couldn't stop thinking about or maybe the emotional sound of Secrets by Jennifer Thomas as it serenaded me from my car's speakers. Whatever it was, I was now sitting in my car as gas poured into it and I was doing the thing.