Heartbreak for Dinner: It's Kind of a Long Story

by Rondon, Annah

  “Is someone a little nervous?” I inquired teasingly.

  “It is him who should be nervous, doll face,” she outlined her hourglass figure and winked at me. “But even if I were, it wouldn’t match up to that sick look on your face right this moment. Just relax, baby girl.”

  I made my way to the bottle of wine we’d purchased at the airport and poured myself a glass. I hadn’t seen or really spoken to Jonah since our trip to Vegas, the nerves successfully eating away at my insides. Often I’d longed to reconnect without ever pulling the trigger, usually when my heart cooked the rational side of my brain and pushed me to pick up the phone on a night I’d been drinking. There was a knock on the door just as Britt zipped up a pair of jeans and gave me a thumbs-up.

  “That’s me,” she winked and headed for the door.

  The person on the other side embraced her immediately, no awkwardness whatsoever as they kissed urgently under the wooden frame. It was as if they’d been missing each other even though they’d never met. I wondered if my best friend intended to go out in her rollers, feeling deeply jealous of her unabashed confidence and ability to not give a fuck. Her guy – who surprisingly did not resemble the Hunchback of Notre Dame – came over to me and shook my hand.

  “Evan,” teeth so bright they required shades gleamed my way as he smiled. “You’re friend here’s beautiful,” he motioned to Britt. “Thank God for Facebook.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and failed to stop feeling cynical. “Good ol’ God and Mark Zuckerberg,” I chirped, “making the world a better place one hook-up at a time.”

  Evan released a confused look and Britt glared at me as she took off a roller and flung it my way. I pretended to be injured and let out a yelp. Shortly after that we made our way to the lobby to go our separate ways. Saying our goodbyes, I made Evan promise he wouldn’t kill my friend and sell her organs on the Mexican black market. He seemed convinced I had mental disabilities but promised anyway as they waved me off. A while later, I was in the back of a black sedan being driven through a neighborhood called Royal Oaks by Jonah’s driver, Benny. I felt sick as we glided closer to our destination, surprised my complexion wasn’t green as I checked my reflection in a compact mirror. We made a left and Benny decreased speed as we pulled up to what could only be described as the country version of the Balmoral Castle.

  “What is this?” I stood in front of a sprawling mansion bigger than any of the others lining the block, black iron gates menacingly creaking open.

  “This here is Mr. Hunter’s home,” he looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Y’all are set to have lunch, right?”

  I nodded and processed the immensity of the moment, recalling Jonah had never mentioned anything about what he did, except work in the family business. I could deduce said business was drilling oil out of Mt. Everest or inventing Scientology from the size of his house. I questioned the fairness of life as I realized Jonah was only 28 and living like Hugh Heffner minus the bleach-haired sluts. When the car stopped, I caught sight of him in the distance, practically skipping toward us with a huge smile plastered on his handsome face. In beige linen pants and a crisp white shirt, he’d never looked better. He opened the door of the car and I adjusted my pleated dress, taking in a deep breath before swinging my feet over to the concrete ground.

  “Oh my goodness,” he pounced on my weightless body, scooping me up in a bear hug as he twirled me. “Are you for real?”

  “I think I am,” I blushed, a thousand revolutions morphing inside me. “Is this Texas Disneyland? Or did you rob a bank since I last saw you?”

  He shot me a funny look and hugged me again. “Don’t be ridiculous, Annah. This is the house I told you I bought.”

  “Your fiancé must be thrilled,” I blurted out. “You can raise 20 kids in here.”

  Jonah scratched his head awkwardly and led me up the stairs. “This certainly wasn’t her first choice, but it’s the one father and I liked.”

  He seemed uncomfortable talking about her, so I decided not to pursue the subject any further and allowed him to guide the way, expecting a butler to pop out of a corner at any moment and take my trench coat. “After you,” he motioned as he opened the enormous entrance door and I placed my right foot – superstitiously – inside.

  I took in the grandness of the space and almost fainted, completely over my head as I tried to retain my composure. “This is quite the abode you got yourself here, Mr. Hunter,” I exclaimed proudly. “I’m impressed.”

  “I’ve been eyeing it for years. It belonged to someone else and I would drive by here every month and say to myself, ‘One day I’m going to own that house.’ I couldn’t believe my luck when my realtor called and told me the owner was moving to New York and looking to sell,” his eyes shone with a pride I’d never seen before. “It’s just the simple French style I like.”

  “Oh, yes, yes,” I mocked him. “A very simple French home.”

  Tugging my hand, he gave me a sideward glance. “Come. I want to introduce you to someone very special,” he breathed, my heart dropping a thousand miles, “my amazing housekeeper, Eleonore. She’s French, too, you know.”

  I let out my breath slowly and relaxed. “You bought a French house with a French maid?”

  “The maid didn’t come with the house, cupcake. My aunt recommended her. Trust me, she’s not what you’d expect,” his eyes twinkled in mischief. “Besides, I like to think of her as a stand-in mom who watches over my home when I’m not here and makes great hot chocolate, too. Megan isn’t as impressed, but I don’t care,” he continued and showed the way through a long narrow hallway. We sat to lunch in what Eleonore called “the breakfast room,” which also happened to be Jonah’s favorite place in the house. As opposed to the rest of the quarters, it had floor-to-ceiling windows, the light entering each morning as he read the paper and drank his coffee.

  “I tell him he needs to stop smoking and drinking so much coffee,” Eleonore scolded him as she poured me some tea after lunch, “but these men never listen to old ladies like me. Do you know that he hides his cigarettes from Miss Megan? Lucky for him she travels a lot.”

  I took a sip of tea shyly and smiled, wondering if the lady of the house would soon be showing face and stab me for cavorting with her fiancé and the help.

  “Enough of that,” Jonah waved a hand in the air dismissively as if to shush her. “Let’s not burden Annah with the details of my bad habits. I assure you she knows them all,” he squeezed my hand affectionately and Eleonore eyed me over suspiciously with a look of warm curiosity. “Tell me, El. What’s for dessert?”

  I left the mansion hours later full of quail and potatoes with a side of misery served scorching hot. Jonah and Megan had been engaged for over a year, no date set yet for the nuptials all of high society waited for with bated breath. I learned that she was out of town for a funeral, as her aunt had died suddenly of a heart attack while playing tennis. Sympathizing with her, I was on the verge of having my own soon if I came in close contact with Jonah again over the weekend. He told me he was disappointed he couldn’t make it to the funeral, but his college roommate was getting married that weekend and he was a groomsman.

  “You should come,” he’d said to me casually as our meal drew to a close and I ran out of things to talk about.

  “What? You’re insane,” I shook my head, “I wouldn’t know anyone.”

  “You’d know me,” his eyes peered into my soul and peeled off every hard layer I’d built around the love I’d once felt for him.

  “I don’t have anything to wear,” I quickly countered.

  “Benny will take you shopping,” he retaliated, looking smug.

  I opened my mouth to speak but he didn’t allow me. “It’s settled,” he popped a raspberry that had been garnishing his untouched crème brûlée in his mouth. “You can go now after lunch and I’ll give him my card. He’ll scoop you up tomorrow at three and take you to the church. Just text me when you get there, and I’ll join you after t
he whole aisle walking thing. Sound good?”

  I got the eerie premonition I’d bit off more than I could chew with our lunch, but I nodded anyway in defeated agreement and let Benny take me away.

  A whole day had come and gone as I stood in the lobby of my hotel, pacing slowly back and forth in a floor length gown that trailed the floor behind me in waves of fiery red. Britt had spent the night at Evan’s place surely getting little sleep, while I watched back-to-back episodes of CSI and attempted to murder the insomnia plaguing me before the day of the wedding. After Benny dropped me off at the church, I sat in a pew feeling uncomfortable as the seats filled up with couples and people who smelled of money greeting each other warmly. The wedding party began to proceed down the aisle shortly after the violins started playing. When Jonah’s turn came, he held my eyes with his own with every step until he passed me. It was a beautiful ceremony, and I found myself smiling at times and suppressing back tears in others.

  The reception was held in a humble little place called the Royal Oaks Country Club, whose annual fee cost more than my house and has to be paid up front by all selected members. I halfway expected to bump into George Bush as I gingerly clung to Jonah, not wanting to be left alone in a sea of snobby strangers. He introduced me to friends who greeted me with curious eyes, and girls whose stares were unforgivingly cold. There seemed to be one person in particular who took a liking to me, a groomsman whom Jonah introduced as Bobby. He was decidedly past his drinking limit but showed no signs of slowing down.

  “Lady in red,” he slurred in front of Jonah, “don’t you look ravishing.”

  My date laughed it off dismissively and took me to the dance floor. He promised we’d leave as soon as the cake was cut, and I told him I didn’t mind at all. Before he was able to reply, a girl cut our dance short and asked me if she could steal Jonah away for a few moments. He looked apologetically at me and I ducked away, trying to hide in a corner with a glass of champagne. Every second I stood there alone seemed an eternity, and I attempted to not show the awkwardness I was experiencing while I waited.

  “Look who it is,” someone said to my left and I looked up to find Bobby looking at me with eyes glossed over in whiskey. I gave him a tight-lipped smile and raised my glass to his cordially. He grabbed me with his free hand and smashed our bodies together, my champagne spilling over onto his suit. “Dance with me,” his hand slipped down to my bottom and he squeezed. “Where the hell did Jonah find someone like you on such short notice?” he mused to himself as I failed to pull away, not wanting to make a scene.

  “What the hell are you doing, Bobby?” Jonah came up from behind us, irritation lacing his words.

  “Not a damn thing,” he said, loosening his grip on me. “Trying to dance with this purdy lady you brought to the party. You brought her for me, right? You’re getting married and I’m still single, after all.”

  “Bobby, you’re drunk,” Jonah exhaled irritably.

  “I ain’t drunk, partner, and I ain’t blind neither. Now you know good and well Megan won’t tolerate philandering, so just hand over this fine piece to me and I’ll make sure she has a proper Texan time in my bed tonight.”

  There was no time to react when he said this, as I saw Jonah’s fist flash peripherally, square into Bobby’s jaw. In seconds, they were on the ground and I began to yell, begging them to please stop. I’d been around the block enough times to know one never tries to get into a fight involving two men who’ve been drinking, lest you want your face bashed in by mistake. Tears blinded me by the time some of the guys came to separate them and I succeeded at blinking them back.

  “What the hell’s going on?” the groom pushed Bobby into a corner.

  He straightened up and readjusted the carnations smeared with blood on his jacket. “Not a damn thing,” he snickered and looked straight at me, everyone’s gaze following suit. “Just Jonah here’s getting his panties in a bunch because I was trying to acquaint myself with his little side bitch.”

  “I’m out of here,” I said under my breath, turning around and looking for the nearest exit. A bridesmaid frowned at me and moved out of the way, probably glad to see me go. I was still trying to find my way to an exit minutes later when Jonah came up behind me, his left eye red and swollen from the fight.

  “Please don’t go,” he pleaded.

  I kissed his cheek softly. “I have no desire to be here, love. And I say that in the best possible way. This is not my place and I was out of line accepting your invite to begin with.”

  “Your place is with me,” he spoke softly. “Let’s just go anywhere you want. Screw those people.”

  Grabbing his hand, I kissed the back of it, never wanting to let go. “Those are your people, Jonah, and it is unlikely Bobby will remember any of this tomorrow.”

  “Bobby is the last thing on my mind right now. Let’s escape,” he stretched his hand out to me and waited. “Just tell me where you want to go.”

  Kemah Boardwalk has all the components of a Nicholas Sparks movie minus Ryan Gosling and a piano: water, children running loose, nice people with Southern accents, and a few amusement rides and restaurants drowning in greasy food. After I called Britt, she told me to head there for a celebration being held for Evan’s best friend, who was turning 22. Jonah and I walked along the bay on wooden planks that held the weight of our thoughts, sticking out like sore thumbs in our formal attire. The water swayed peacefully over the veranda, a cool breeze cleansing us from earlier misfortunes. I ventured to think there was a certain romance floating in the air that didn’t slip him. I could feel his stare clothing my body, but continued to move forward with careful strides, not wanting to get a heel caught in between the planks and kill the moment by landing face first on the floor. When we finally arrived at Landry’s, we headed toward the corner where the birthday party was situated.

  “Holy fancy balls, look at you guys!” Britt squealed when she spotted us. “Where did you come from, the royal wedding or something?”

  “I think the royals are a little less pretentious,” the sentence slipped out of me before I could catch myself.

  “What happened to your face, dude?” Evan stepped up and shook Jonah’s hand, saving me from further verbal diarrhea. “You got a little blood there.”

  “He ran into a door,” I quipped quickly and asked where the bar was. Britt shot me a look that confirmed we had lots to talk of in the morning as she smiled, turning to dance with her date. Evan’s friends were a great group of kids in their early 20s with a love of fireball shots and table dancing. Jonah and I found ourselves forgetting about Bobby and the royals as we immersed our senses deeper into the night with them. The nearness of him ignited all my old feelings once more as our bodies touched under flashing lights. A knot of dreadful panic suddenly overcame me when I remembered he was engaged, and that night was only as temporary as Cinderella’s carriage. Fearful of turning into a pumpkin right before his very eyes, I anxiously faked a headache and told him we should head home.

  “So early?” he complained, squeezing my hands.

  “It’s three in the morning.”

  He pouted and grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair, tenderly draping it over my shoulders. Once we said our goodbyes to the few brave souls that remained from our initial group of 20, we were back on our way. John Mayer sang sweetly from the radio and I told Jonah how much I adored his music. He smirked and said half the female population probably did as well. The unfamiliar roads we were on were dangerously dark, and I nervously kept my eyes peeled at our surroundings. Two cars flashed by us at the speed of light and I squeezed his hand involuntarily.

  “Damn kids and their racing,” he muttered under his breath. Our fingers intertwined and I made no efforts to move them from their secured position, glad to be headed to my hotel bed after such a tiring day. My eyelids begun to close involuntarily as I nodded off. Resisting with all my might, I opened my window for a wave of fresh air. In the distance, I spotted something moving while the car rolled d
own a hill.

  “What is that?” a large black and white figure peered over the barrier wall to the right of the road. Instantly, it all unfolded before my brain fully grasped the concept of what was taking place. Two guys in hooded sweatshirts carried a large spotted dog over the wall and dropped it there, quickly disappearing into the darkness whence they came from. The animal took off quickly in a state of panic and confusion, running aimlessly back and forth across the lanes.

  “Stop the car!” I screamed, startling Jonah.

  “What the f—,” his eyes blinked repeatedly as the scene came fully into view.

  “Stop, Oh-my-God, please!” I yelled again, transfixed. I jumped out as soon as he hit the brakes, running in my heels as I tried to catch it before it was too late. Cars whizzed by me, dodging us both miraculously and honking angrily. My dress floated in clouds of red behind me and I could hear Jonah calling after me to come back. I darted along the wall and whistled at the dog, urging it to turn around and come to safety. Shuddering to think of the type of people who’d throw a defenseless animal to its death, a dizziness washed over me without preamble. I broke down and steadied myself against the same concrete barrier those thugs had thrown the dog over merely minutes before. Cowering down into a sitting position, I started to sob silently at my failed rescue attempt. Seconds after, I looked up to see the pup flashing toward me. Before I could react it was by my side, licking the salty tears off my face as I began to pet it. Jonah reached and embraced us at the same time, steadily soothing me and kissing the crown of my head.