What a Girl Wants

by Angie Coleman

  “I didn’t do it for you, Gil. I did it for me,” he continues, trying to find my gaze. I feel my heart beating madly and I struggle to find a single reason to reject him. He perceives my hesitation, his hand lets go of the strand of hair and strokes my cheek, leaving fire in its wake. The other arm wraps itself around my waist and pulls me against his sturdy chest. It’s just a second, but it flows in slow motion. His lips brush against mine and immediately my body responds to his touch. My hands slip between our bodies and come to rest on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat accelerate, the taste of his mouth enveloping me, and it all feels so right. I once again feel complete, the weight on my stomach disappears, and I forget what it feels like to be sad and dejected. Our tongues tease each other in a game they seem to have known all their life. Breathing becomes secondary, irrelevant, because oxygen no longer comes from the air, but from the presence of the other. I love feeling his fingers linger on my face, grazing my cheekbone and slipping down to stroke my neck. I didn’t realize how much I missed all this, and this awareness baffles me.

  When he pulls away, the usual odious feeling of emptiness overcomes me, as if he were the only one capable of filling it.

  “I am in love with you, Gil, and this won’t change either. It may be scary, I understand that. It terrified me, too, at first, but it’s the truth and I want to stop pretending I don’t love you.” His emerald eyes flash across mine; they seem to be searching for an answer that refuses to come out of my throat. I lose myself in his gaze until he looks away and grabs the door handle.

  “I will wait for you, Gil, until you realize I am right,” he says, before he disappears onto the landing. The sound of the door closing, leaving me alone in this unfamiliar apartment, sinks me back into despair. I slide down the wall until I am seated on the floor and breathe. I definitely need a cold shower and a ton of ice cream. Now.

  *

  The sound of the doorbell makes me leap from the couch. I look towards the entrance. Who could it be at this time of night? It’s past ten thirty. Immediately my heart speeds up with the presentment that it could be Jared again beyond the threshold. I don’t dare go to the door, but whoever it is, is very insistent, so much so that they keep knocking and knocking. I set the tub of chocolate ice cream on the table and stride over to the door. Darn, there’s no peephole in this door. I have to take a deep breath and open up.

  “Finally!” Lillian exclaims anxiously. What is she doing here? I don’t get the chance to ask her before she steps around me and slips into the apartment. “I was afraid you’d already gone to bed.”

  “Lillian… what…” I try to shed some light on things as I close the door, but she seems as tense as a violin chord. She sets her bag on the couch, sits, immediately stands back up and walks around the living room pretending she is admiring the furnishings, then sits back down.

  “Lillian,” I say, holding her arm before she can get up again. “What’s going on?” I sit next to her and notice an odd apprehension clouding her gaze.

  “Nothing,” she replies hurriedly. A conditioned response I’d say; she can’t think I’d believe it, considering she appeared in Fall River at night, and mid week to boot.

  “Spit it out,” I command, handing her the tub of ice cream with the spoon still stuck in it.

  “I see you’ve graduated to hard drugs,” she observes with a slight smile that almost immediately disappears.

  “Out of necessity,” I reply simply. “So? What happened?”

  “Nothing. Grandma Natalie said you moved here and I didn’t want to leave you by yourself on the first night in a strange house. I thought you’d need some company. I’m leaving early tomorrow morning,” she replies, stuffing a generous helping of ice cream into her mouth.

  “Ok, that’s what we’ll tell anyone who asks,” I calmly concede. “Now tell me what’s really the matter.” She quickly swallows and lets out a sigh.

  “I need a break,” she confesses, looking me in the eye.

  “From what?”

  “From him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t take it any longer. Maybe I really should find myself a new job. Seeing him every day doesn’t help at all.”

  I bet. “You like working there,” I remind her.

  “I used to, I don’t know if I still do.”

  “Just because you insist on not hearing his side.”

  “Don’t be stupid! There is no other side. Sometimes you’re really naïve, Gil.”

  “Maybe that wasn’t really his wife.”

  “Sure, because the word ‘wife’ is easily misinterpreted. And look who’s talking,” she points the spoon at me accusingly. “Anyone can see you’re madly in love a mile off, but you continue to keep your distance. Jared doesn’t have a wife and I’d say he’s done plenty to make you forgive him for his mistake with Father,” Miss Know-it-all declares.

  I steal the spoon from her and sink it into the tub she is holding. “It’s not because of Father being fired, Lillian,” I try to explain. “It’s complicated.”

  “Said the simple girl.”

  “Ok, it’s not even that complicated. The truth is, if our roles had been reversed, I would have told him. I would have trusted him and laid everything out in the open. Instead Jared thought I was one of those people who judge without thinking, that don’t reflect and are easily conditioned by gossip. He didn’t consider me worthy of his trust, he let our relationship be based on a lie.”

  “You shouldn’t be so strict with him. The fact that he didn’t tell you doesn’t mean he didn’t trust you.”

  “What does it mean, then?” I demand to know as I swallow another spoonful of ice cream. I need sugar to perk me up… lots and lots of sugar.

  “Just that he was afraid,” she replies, as if it were totally normal.

  “Afraid of what?”

  “Afraid of losing you. It’s totally rational, come on, think about it,” she exhorts me, and I already know she’s forming an elaborate theory based on this in her head. “At first you were nothing to him, so why should he tell you something as uncomfortable as the fact he had some workers in his grandfather’s company fired. Then he began to get to know you, but if I’ve read him correctly, he wasn’t expecting to fall in love with you. When he realized what his feelings were, it was already too late. So, he didn’t have the courage to risk throwing everything to the wind. He wanted to try and fix things before telling you the truth. It’s understandable, isn’t it?” she gives me the same version I heard from Jared the night he called me. I thought she had more imagination.

  “Why should it be understandable? I would have told him sooner,” I am obstinate.

  “You live in a perfect world, Gil. People are more complex than you think, and not everyone is used to having to deal with someone like you. We common mortals tend to think that prejudice exists and isn’t easy to eliminate, so we try to avoid letting the people we love form the wrong idea. That’s all.” It sounds simple the way she says it. I swallow the umpteenth spoonful of ice cream as I ponder her words. If there’s one thing I didn’t consider, it was the difference in how we react to events in our lives. We aren’t all the same, and though the fact that Jared didn’t give me the opportunity to understand him hurts me, I can’t continue to keep him at a distance. His absence isn’t good for me, it’s evident.

  “Well? Was I able to make you see things from another point of view?” Lillian asks hopefully. I look her in the eye again and nod with the spoon still in my mouth.

  “I think I only have to get over the fact that I was so disappointed.”

  “You can do it, little sister,” she encourages me with an energetic slap on my shoulder. “Now pass the spoon. Of the two of us, I’m the one in greater need of comfort,” she establishes, determinedly slipping the precious spoon out of my hand. “You’ll have the love of your life back tomorrow. I’ll have to wait to find one who’s at least a little bit like Zach,” she swallows a spoonful of ice cream. “What a b
ore wives are,” she concludes, letting herself fall against the back of the couch.

  19

  Lillian left so early this morning that, though it’s only ten ‘o’clock, I have the feeling I’ve worked through half the day. I was sorry to see her leave in such an evident pout. I have to admit her affair with Zach is more complicated than expected, and she may well have been right about me and Jared, but she certainly isn’t capable of finding a solution to her problems. When her heart is the issue, it seems her brain goes haywire. If only she would decide to listen to Zach, I’m sure she would get her happy ending, too. At least I hope so, because right now I’m not completely certain of my own, and not because there’s anything uncertain between me and Jared, but just because I have the feeling there will always be a shadow between us. I don’t want to find myself holding this business against him ten years from now when we fight over something else… presuming our relationship lasts ten years, of course.

  The shop door opens forcing me to set aside my thoughts to concentrate on my job. I have clients to cater to, I shouldn’t forget that.

  “Good morning, how can I help you?” I ask the newcomer, a tall and slender middle aged woman. She is wearing a cream colored dress with a short, fitted jacket. She is elegant and I am already thinking of the millions of hats that could complete her outfit.

  “Good morning,” she greets me pleasantly. “I was looking for a hat that would be suitable for a ceremony.”

  “Of course. What color will the gown be?”

  “Oh, it’s an empire dress in a delightful Tiffany green.”

  “Then I would recommend a beige or cream colored formal hat; they’re warm colors and they go splendidly with Tiffany green,” I explain, inviting her to join me near the central display where I believe I have exactly what she is looking for. As she studies the items on display, out of the corner of my eye I notice a man in his fifties crossing the entrance hall. He has reddish hair and I’ve never seen him around here. How did he get in?

  “Can you excuse me a moment,” I ask the woman who is still hesitating between three hats that seem to excite her more than I would have expected.

  “Of course,” she grants with a smile.

  Without thinking, I rush out of the shop and up the stairs until I see the shadow of the intruder who is still climbing. He’s gone past the third floor and is continuing upwards, so he’s not an acquaintance of Jane’s. I keep myself a flight of stairs behind him so as not to be seen, glancing up at him every now and then. His pace is laborious, as if he is tired, but determined. He is diminutive and a bit chubby, with short curls crowding the summit of his head. When he reaches the fourth floor he looks like he needs to catch his breath, maybe the bag he is carrying over his shoulder is heavier than it looks. I crane my neck to establish his intentions and I see him head straight for Margherita’s apartment. I climb a couple of steps to see the landing, and in fact there he is, standing before her door. A moment later the door opens and she appears, wearing one of her dressing gowns. I glimpse her perfect smile as she invites the stranger inside. Oh, good grief! I can’t believe it.

  I thought Margherita was done with her old life. What is a fifty year old stranger doing in her apartment? Maybe I should warn Jane, but I’ve never been the type to interfere with other people’s business. I had better tackle the issue with Margherita as soon as I close for lunch. Yes, that’s better.

  I go back down to the shop, and I find my client in the same position I left her. She is also wearing the same torn expression.

  “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” I hurry to join her.

  “Don’t worry,” she replies, concentrating, and I nearly fear I’ve disturbed her. “I just can’t make up my mind,” she explains after a moment’s silence. Her words flatter me and a spontaneous smile, the first in a while, blossoms on my lips.

  “Maybe I should buy all three,” she finally gives in. “I’ll change them during the day.”

  “O… ok,” I agree happily. I adore this kind of person, they can brighten a day full of worries.

  The morning is intense, my clients follow one on the heels of the next so fast that I don’t have a moment’s rest. When lunchtime comes, I pull down the shutter and go into the back room to call Lillian. The time has come to fix all the unsolved issues developed over the past few days, and the first one is to make sure my sister is ok. When she left this morning, she didn’t look like she was in great shape. I dial the number and wait for her to reply.

  “Hello?”

  “Big sister, it’s me,” I greet her trying to simulate enthusiasm.

  “Oh, Gil,” it sounds like she wasn’t expecting to hear from me. “Did something happen?”

  “Nope, nothing. I just wanted to know how you were doing.” She is silent for a moment, as if she needs to think before she replies.

  “Can you tell me the brand of the ice cream we had last night? I think I’ll stop by and get some on my way home.”

  “You haven’t made up your mind to talk to him yet?”

  “I didn’t get the chance; too much work, too many appointments… too many wives,” she finishes off.

  “Lillian,” I am forced to call her to order.

  “What? I’m not ready to hear that that’s his wife from him, too,” she dryly retorts.

  “Maybe they’re divorced,” I try to give her an inkling of hope.

  “I’m not ready to hear that at thirty-five he’s already divorced, either.”

  “You’re so melodramatic sometimes.” At this pace, we’ll never come to a solution.

  “I’m melodramatic? Look who’s talking. In any case, I need time,” she blows me off.

  “Try not to wait for the next century to clear things up with him.”

  “Said the girl who hasn’t plucked up the courage to talk to Jared yet,” she retorts.

  “It’s on my list of things to do today,” I announce proudly. At least I set myself a deadline, unlike her, who’s been dithering for weeks. “Besides, stop bringing the conversation back to me, let’s think about you for once.”

  “There isn’t much to think about, Gil. I need time, that’s all, but I’m ok,” she tries to reassure me.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course – nothing a good helping of ice cream can’t heal,” she jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  “Talk to him, Lillian,” I remind her, incapable of holding back.

  “I will, when I’m ready,” she determinedly insists. I guess there’s no way of getting her to hurry things. How she can keep seeing him every day without talking about anything aside from work beats me. I saw Jared only once or twice since the day of the opening, and I can barely resist the impulse to kiss him.

  “Ok, as you please, but remember I’m here if you need me.”

  “I know, little sister,” she confirms with a sigh I can’t rightly interpret. “Talk to you soon,” she ends the conversation.

  “Talk to you soon,” I confirm before I hang up. I’d say the first issue I dealt with didn’t go too well. Let’s hope the remaining two go better.

  I sit on a stool against the wall trying to muster the courage to face Jared and Margherita. Maybe it’s best to begin with Margherita, a much more neutral encounter, because the mere thought of Jared makes my heart leap into my throat. What should I tell him? That it’s all in the past? That I’ve realized I love him more than I am disappointed with his lack of trust? Would that be the truth? Or am I simply ignoring how much he hurt me to appease my desire? What should I do?

  I hold my head in my hands – I’ve never felt so confused in my entire life. If only I could come to terms with myself, leave my disappointment behind me, I would be free to listen to my heart and be happy, because in this maelstrom of contrasting feelings and emotions, I have only one certainty: my happiness is tied to him. So why can’t I do it? Why can’t I accept the fact that he didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth? If only I could let one of the two feelings prevail over the o
ther, maybe I could find the solution to my malaise. I sigh, frustrated, when the joyful trill of the bell on the counter rouses me from my reverie. Odd, I’m sure I closed the shop. I jump up and pop my head out of the door. Jane’s familiar, smiling face appears in my line of vision.

  “Hello, dear,” she greets me politely.

  “Jane, what are you doing here?” I ask curiously, joining her behind the counter.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I know you have a lot of work to do, but I wanted to introduce you to someone,” she explains, turning towards the entrance hall and beckoning for someone to come in. I follow her gesture with my eyes and I’m dumbfounded when I see the stranger from this morning stepping into my shop. Now I can see him close up, I’m struck by his expression. He looks like a good man after all, if a bit clumsy.

  “He’s just come back from New Guinea, an expedition that lasted months,” she explains as soon as the mystery man joins us. He smiles proudly and holds out his hand.

  “Hello. I am Sam Drake. I live on the fourth floor,” he introduces himself with a vigorous handshake. Sam Drake? So he isn’t a client of Margherita’s.

  “H… hello,” I stammer, incapable of recovering from my shock. The more I look at his chubby face, his warm light brown eyes, his slightly embarrassed demeanor, the more everything in him seems distant from the first impression I had. How could I think Margherita was receiving clients in her apartment? How could I think he was one of those clients?

  “What’s the matter, dear? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jane’s voice brings me back to reality. She doesn’t miss a thing, does she?

  “No, nothing… it’s just that I saw you this morning going up to Margherita’s,” I say to the man standing before me.

  “Oh, yes. I had promised her some photographs of a new species of butterfly I was able to capture during my last expedition,” he explains with satisfaction. “She doesn’t get out much and she likes butterflies, so before I left a few months ago, I promised I would bring her some pictures to frame and hang in her apartment.”