“I’ll take two fat rolls, please,” Myra says matching Susie’s smile.
“Only two? Hell, as skinny as you are? I’m thinking you need to start out with like maybe four or six. And I haven’t even started talking about all of the fat on my giant ass.”
Myra smiles and shakes her head.
“Well, I gotta run. We still on for lunch? I’m starving,” Susie says as she stuffs the last bite of candy bar in her mouth.
“Sure.”
Susie grins again and has some chocolate stuck in her front teeth. Myra smiles and shakes her head as she watches her friend walk away.
* * *
“Oh my God, I thought this morning would never end,” Susie says. “I am so hungry. Let’s get pizza. I started this new diet last week while you were gone. It’s called the Pasta and Chocolate Diet. See, you’re supposed to…”
“Are you crazy?” Myra says, interrupting her. “That can’t be healthy.”
“Hey, don’t pass judgment until you hear about it, you bean pole,” Susie retorts. “You eat pasta for lunch and dinner and then at night, you get to eat one ounce of chocolate with some popcorn. But for some damn reason, I’m starving to death. I feel like my stomach has teeth, and it’s trying to devour me from the inside out. I mean I’m literally about to pass out on the floor from complete starvation,” she says before she quickly prattles off an order for a slice of pizza with everything and breadsticks with extra dip. Myra orders a salad.
They sit down at a table. “You shouldn’t try fad diets,” Myra says. “You could get sick.”
“I know. I only lasted two days. Ah, hell, it was probably more like four hours. Anyway, one of these days I’m going to figure out how to remove these last thirty pounds from my fat gigantic self even if I have to cut the slabs off with scissors,” Susie says before adding a thick layer of parmesan cheese to her slice of pizza.
Myra laughs softly and shakes her head.
“So I heard Trent showed up at your desk this morning. How’d that go?” Susie asks while dipping her breadstick in both cheese and pizza sauce.
Myra shrugs. “Same old conversation. He wants to talk and be my friend. I can never be his friend, and I don’t know why he doesn’t understand that.”
“It’s because he’s an asshole. Asshole brains don’t work the same as ours do. Too much brown sludge,” Susie says before breaking out into a fit of giggles.
“For God’s sake, I’m trying to eat here.” Myra’s lip curls as she pushes away her not-yet-touched salad.
“Sorry,” Susie says, smiling sheepishly. “Look, the ass was in a committed relationship with you and then just suddenly happened to fall in love – I mean lust – with Julia that bitchho skank.” Susie makes a face like she just smelled something horrific.
Myra nods.
“And honey, I don’t know how you can stand watching him flaunt her in front of you day in and day out at work like you do. I’d have committed double homicide by now.”
“You know why.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just really concerned about you, that’s all. You know I love you,” Susie says as she leans forward and grabs Myra’s hand. “I hate seeing you upset over that sludgebrain because he’s so not worth it. It’s been almost a year, and that prick needs to leave you the hell alone. You’ve got enough going on in your life without having to worry about his stupid sorry ass as well.”
“I know.”
“You want me to kick his cheatin’ tiny balls for ya? ‘Cuz I’m feeling a ‘lil frisky today.” Susie holds up her hands demonstrating her karate chopping abilities and adds in some terrible Kung Fu movie sound effects along with it.
Myra giggles and shakes her head.
* * *
As Myra enters her darkened apartment, she throws her keys on the table by the door. Slumping onto the couch, she doesn’t bother removing her coat or boots. She simply stares into the darkness at nothing. The quiet stillness combined with the dark has a nice numbing effect on her.
But it doesn’t last long. The empty house reminds her of her loneliness. How she has no one. It reminds her of how many people she’s lost that she loved.
Leaning her head back against the couch, she shuts her eyes as one tear after another slip down her cheeks. Her sobs echo and bounce around her quiet apartment. Curling up into a ball, she cries until she feels empty. Until she has nothing left.
Using only her sense of touch, she makes her way down the hallway to the bathroom. She fumbles in the darkness until her hands find the bathtub where she blindly turns on the water. Her coat falls to the floor as she kicks her boots to the side and removes her clothing. Slipping into the warm water, she relishes the prickly heat of it against her skin as she closes her eyes and tries to forget.
* * *
Myra finally steps out of the bathtub once the water has cooled and her skin has wrinkled. Water drips everywhere as she fumbles for the light switch. Squinting against the brightness, she steps up to the mirror and stares at her shivering self. Her long, dark matted hair lies flat against her skin. The once perfect mascara has left black tracks down her red cheeks; dark rings surround her swollen, bloodshot eyes.
She doesn’t recognize the reflection in the mirror. The sad, depressed woman she sees staring back at her has to be someone else. It can’t be her. As she stares into the stranger’s empty eyes reflecting back at her, she wishes she could make it all go away. Make the emptiness disappear. But she doesn’t know how.
As her body quakes from the cool air of the bathroom on her wet skin, she continues staring deep into her own eyes noticing the vacant nothingness. She stares until her eyes start to blur and her vision becomes distorted.
With her fists closed tightly, she furiously rubs her eyes, smearing her mascara even more. Staring at herself again, her lip quivers as a tear slips down her cheek. “I can’t do this anymore,” she whispers brokenly to the unknown person staring back at her.
CHAPTER 2
YELLOW, INDECISION
Myra takes a towel and washcloth out of the linen closet. After wetting the cloth with hot water, she scrubs it across her eyes, cheeks, and chin, wishing she could wipe away the reflection she sees. Make it go away like the black streaks on her face.
After drying off and putting on some heavy flannel pajamas, she slips under the covers and rubs the tender skin of her face against the soft, satiny silk of her pillow. Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she sighs heavily because she never goes to bed this early. But within minutes, she falls asleep.
* * *
Jolting awake with her eyes wide, her heart pounds as she quickly scans the bedroom. She stares intently into the darkness, her eyes and ears straining for what could have startled her. Seeing and hearing nothing, she flops back onto her pillow and waits for her heartbeat to slow down. Glancing at the clock, she groans when she sees she still has hours before she needs to get up. She stares at the ceiling for a while, but knows she won’t be sleeping any time soon.
Shuffling out of bed, she retrieves her laptop. Propping a pillow behind herself, she pulls up an empty Word document. The white glow from the screen casts unusual shadows on the walls around her. She stares at her computer for the longest time as she thinks. Finally, with a sigh, her fingers move to the keyboard and begin typing.
She reads the letter over and over again before she finally hits print. After closing her computer, she climbs back under the covers, not to sleep, but simply to wait for her alarm to go off.
* * *
After the slow hours of the early morning pass, she gets ready for work. Just before leaving her apartment, she pulls the sheet of paper off the printer, folds it and tucks it into her bag.
* * *
Myra’s heartbeat quickens as she steps off the elevator and makes her way to her cubicle. Her eyes scan furtively around the office, hoping no one has noticed her. Especially Trent or her. After taking a sip of her coffee, she opens her email.
“Hey,” Susie says a short
time later as she sits down by Myra’s computer. “Guess what? I weighed in this morning, and I gained five fucking pounds. I’m so pissed I could punch something. How in the hell could I gain five pounds in one week when I’m supposed to be on a damn diet? Where’s Trent? Because I need that prick over here so I can punch his lights out and make myself feel better.”
Myra smiles at her friend.
Susie’s eyes narrow. “You look awful. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“I did, actually. I went to bed early. I got in about eight hours,” Myra says, “but I’ve been up since four.”
“Four? Yikes, that sucks. I hate to tell you this, but you look horrible. Incredibly skinny, which I absolutely hate you for, but horrible nonetheless.”
“Thanks. A lot.”
Susie grins. “Just keeping it real. You sure you’re feeling okay? Have you been eating? What did you have for breakfast?”
“Uh…”
“Mmhm, that’s what I thought,” Susie says as she nods her head. “I’m going to run downstairs and grab you a bagel, and because I’m seriously depressed over my weight gain, I’m going to cheer myself up by eating a couple of donuts. I’ll be back,” Susie says in her best Terminator voice before she quickly exits Myra’s cubicle.
“I don’t want anything,” Myra uselessly calls out as Susie scats down the hallway.
* * *
“Where’re we going for lunch?” Susie asks, her eyes shining as she steps up to Myra’s desk.
“I don’t care. You pick.”
“Well, those donuts didn’t cheer me up this morning so I want to eat something really bad and really good. Oooh, let’s do Mexican. I’m in the mood to scarf down a mountain of chips and salsa.” Susie excitedly wiggles her eyebrows as she hits the down button for the elevator.
“That’s fine,” Myra says.
A short time later, they sit at a table with their food. “Myra, I…” Susie says but abruptly stops talking when a chunk of salsa slides off her chip and lands with a splat against her blouse.
“You crapping piece of shitty salsa,” Susie mumbles as she wipes at the stain. With a sneer, she tosses her napkin on the table and picks up another chip, cramming it in her mouth.
“Aren’t you going to…?” Myra says as she motions towards her shirt.
“No. Screw it. I’m too lazy to get up and there are just way too many chips on this table right now. And, damn it, we only have an hour for lunch.”
Myra smiles but says nothing as she watches and listens to her comical friend’s loud chip devouring, which includes a lot of crunching noises. But Myra doesn’t touch any herself.
“Jeff tried to get me to go to the gym last night, but of course I didn’t go,” Susie says in between bites. “Instead I sat at home on my big, fat, lazy ass and ate a bag of chips while I watched some show about a guy who weighed eight hundred pounds.” She stares at Myra for a second, before her eyes widen. “Damn it, I forgot about those chips. No wonder I gained five fucking pounds.”
But then her mood seems to brighten. “Mm, they were so good. They were some kind of cheddar cheese flavor. I can’t remember what the hell they were called. Ever had them?” she asks as Myra shakes her head. “Oh, well, they have this thick coating of fake cheese shit on them that tastes so good. But it makes your breath smell like baked ass the next day. No wonder my breath was atrocious this morning.” Susie’s face scrunches up as she waves a hand in front of her mouth.
Myra giggles.
“Anyway, back to my story. God, I’m so easily distracted by food. So Jeff walked in the door from the gym looking all muscly and like Mr. Universe or something and drank his annoying protein shake giving me the look. You know the one that is supposed to make me feel guilty for not going, which never works. I just wanted to take that shake and shove it up his skinny ass. It’s so hard to live with an in-shape, health nut freak.” She pauses and stares at Myra for a moment. “I mean, I know you’re a health nut, but you don’t rub it in my face. I feel like such a fatso fatty butt around him. I disgust myself,” Susie grumbles as she piles extra sour cream and guacamole on her enchiladas.
“You know what you need to do to lose weight.”
“I know, I know,” Susie says, shutting Myra up as she rolls her eyes and waves a chip in the air. “It’s just so hard for me because I have absolutely no self-control. I got skipped when that shit was handed out in heaven. And I just love my food. I think I have an addiction.” She holds her fist up to her mouth like a microphone and belts out, “Might as well face it, I’m addicted to grub.” Susie sings in a much too loud voice, completely massacring Robert Palmer’s song.
Myra laughs until she can barely breathe. “You’re killing me,” she gasps, holding her stomach.
Susie laughs along with her. “Okay, I have to admit that was pretty funny. I crack my own self up,” she brags as she wipes tears from her eyes. “All right. Enough stupid talk about me and my bubble booty. How are you really doing? Because I’ve been worried about you lately.”
“I’m okay,” Myra says with a sigh as she stares down at her barely touched salad.
“Sorry, don’t believe you. You know you can’t hide shit from me; I know you too well. What can I do to help? And you have to start eating more, or you’re just going to disappear into thin air like a ghost or something,” Susie says before loading an obscene amount of salsa onto a chip and cramming it in her mouth.
“I know. I just haven’t had much of an appetite. It’s just been really hard,” Myra says as she slips her hand into her bag on the chair next to her and touches the letter. “It’s hard for me to put into words. I feel so alone right now.”
“Well, you’re not alone. You’ve got me – one of the most wonderful people in the free world, in case you’d forgotten,” she says with a wink, “and you’ve got Jeff and the boys. You know that I automatically inducted you unofficially into my family a long time ago, right? I gave you no choice in the matter.” Susie grins at her.
Myra gives her a small smile back. “Yeah, I know. It’s just different to know that I don’t have any relatives left. It’s hard knowing I’m all by myself now.”
“Well, you need to change your outlook on things. I still have my family so I don’t even want to pretend that I know how you’re feeling, because I don’t. But I do know you don’t have to have blood relatives around you to make you feel that you’re loved and cared for. Think about all of the people in the world that have been adopted. They have people that love them, but they’re not blood related.”
Myra nods.
“Hey, can we get some more chips and salsa, please?” Susie hails the waiter as Myra quickly pulls the letter out of her bag and lays it in her lap without her friend seeing.
“How are you feeling about Trent?” Susie asks.
Myra’s gaze drops to her lap, focusing on the letter. “About the same. It still hurts. Even after all this time. I still can’t believe he fell for her and all her lies.”
“I know. The problem is you can’t move on and put him in the past because you have to see his dickhead self every day along with that skankenstein. Things would be so different if you didn’t have to see that giant prick at work all the time.”
“I know.”
“Hey. I forgot to tell you that Jeff has this friend at work whose brother just moved to town. Now he’s divorced with four kids but he sounds like a…”
“No.”
“Come on. It’s been a year. You need to get out there and start dating again.” Susie lowers her voice and raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you horny?”
“For God’s sake,” Myra mutters.
“I know you have to be missing the big wong,” Susie says the words in a deep man’s voice, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“We are not discussing this,” Myra hisses, her face flushed as she quickly looks around the restaurant to make sure no one heard.
“Well, this conversation’s not over. It’s time for you to move on, an
d you know I’m right. You’re stuck, hon. You need someone or something to help get you unstuck.”
Myra sighs and stares down at her salad for a few minutes. “Here,” she eventually says, picking up the letter off of her lap and laying it in the center of the table.
“What’s this?” Susie asks as she picks it up.
Myra says nothing as she watches Susie open the letter and read it.
“Okay,” Susie says as she folds the letter and lays it back on the table. “We’ve had this conversation before. What does this mean? Is this for real?”
“I don’t know,” Myra answers, playing with the napkin on her lap. “I want it to be.”
“You know I’ve told you over and over again that you need to ditch this job and get away from Trent and that hobag harlot, and I understand why you haven’t. The cancer in your family, the insurance, I get it. I also know for a fact there are no copy editor jobs in Philly right now.”
Myra nods. “You know my dream is to just quit and write a novel. I’ve got plenty of money in the bank, but if I get cancer like mom did and don’t have insurance, I’ll never be able to survive. My savings would be wiped out on my medical expenses, and I wouldn’t have enough money to live on. Now that I don’t have any family left, I just have to be extra careful.” Myra picks up the letter and tucks it back in her bag.
“So why did you write a resignation letter?” Susie asks.
“I’m not sure. I just feel so desperate. The logical side of my brain tells me that I have to keep this job for the health insurance and benefits. But the illogical side tells me to screw it and turn the letter in and get the hell out of here. I’m twenty-five and mom died at thirty…”
Susie immediately interrupts. “Just because your mom died of cancer doesn’t mean you’ll ever even get cancer. Yeah, yeah, I know all about the research studies blah blah blah and about the odds of you getting it, but you don’t know what the future holds.”
“I know, but I have to be prepared. I’m just not a risk taker.”
Susie looks at her watch. “Ugh, look at the time,” she says before stuffing another chip in her mouth. Myra watches as she wraps up the rest of the chips in a napkin and shoves them in her purse.
Color of Loneliness Page 2