Sometimes Love Hurts

by Fostino, Marie

Lisa recalled the last time she had dinner with her mom, dad, and Joey. He had driven her to their house with flowers for her mom, and a bottle of wine for dinner. He always was such a gentleman. They had fun at the table, talking and kidding around during the meal. Her mother had cooked manicotti with meatballs - Joey’s favorite. Her dad had not felt so well, but just having company seemed to bring him back to his normal self. While the women cleaned off the table, Joey and her father went into the living room. They seemed to be in deep conversation and talked softly. Lisa remembered that when she walked into the room they were shaking hands, and Joey sported the biggest smile. She felt good that he was getting along so well with her folks. When she asked them what they were talking about, they both smiled and just said life.

  Lisa decided to live in the dorm for a while longer until she could clean out the house. It was a job she certainly did not look forward to doing. The school counselor told her to take as much time as she needed to get her affairs together since she had lost both parents in such a short time, so she returned to her room for a good night’s sleep. She wanted to start fresh in the morning.

  Upon awakening, Lisa made a cup of coffee and then drove to her parent’s house. As she strolled through the front door, she took her time examining the house.

  The wall by the bathroom still displayed the markings that showed her growth from one year old to sixteen. On the living room walls, pictures of every year she went to school were framed. In the china cabinet was an 11x14 picture of her parents wedding day along with the china that her mother received when she got married. Natalie only took those out each year for Thanksgiving dinner. Her dad’s favorite coffee cup saying Best Dad – the one Lisa had given him for Christmas when she was twelve – still stood by the coffee pot. Her mother’s plants sat by the window, most with leaves turning brown because they needed water.

  Plenty of dust had gathered on the ceiling fans, on the tops of the pictures, and television sets. She suddenly shivered and hugged herself. More fond memories and feelings of childhood rolled in and surrounded her as she walked from room to room. Ghosts of her past birthdays and holidays appeared before her, giving her that homesick feeling and making herself ask again, “Why me? Why God? Why did you take both my parents from me so soon?”

  Hiking up the stairs, Lisa entered her old bedroom to find that the wallpaper had not been changed. The ceiling still displayed the glow-in-the-dark planets and stars. Ribbons from winning cheerleader competitions still hung on the walls. On the chair in the corner was the afghan her mother had knitted for her. On her dresser was a picture of her high school graduation, and another showing her with her parents. She was overcome with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

  When she found herself at her parents’ bedroom door panic set in and she instantly froze. As her eyes scanned the room, she noticed that the bed was still made with the pink and white flowery bedspread. The matching curtains still hung tied at the sides to let in the sunlight. A bookshelf to the left of the bed was full of fuzzy little animals that her parents bought each other during the holidays. There was also a large fuzzy gorilla with a rose in his mouth, and a big heart in his hands saying I Love You, as well as Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy dolls joined at the hip. When they were turned on, Sonny and Cher sang “I Got You Babe”.

  The shelf to the right of the bed was full of memories in pictures of her parents, and places where they had traveled. In one of them, her dad was holding a big orange fish, and her mother held a smaller one. She recalled that it was the time they went deep-sea fishing for their tenth anniversary. Another photo showed them skiing, sort of which made Lisa smile. Her father was lying in the snow with his skis pointed up in the air because he had just fallen, and her mother had quickly captured the moment. It was a trip to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. Still another showed her parents with leis around their necks, and a cruise ship in the background – a memory of their trip to Hawaii.

  Lisa’s legs stiffened as she stepped into their bedroom, but she willed herself to enter. She walked into their private bathroom and then their big walk-in closet. Her father’s pants and shirts hung on one side of the closet, and her mother’s dresses hung on the other. Memories flooded her head as she scanned the familiar clothes and the shoes on the floor. Then, she spotted her prom dress which she wore in the twelfth grade.

  On some of the top shelves, she found photo albums along with shoe boxes full of old letters and cards that her parents, had given each other during their many years of marriage. On another shelf was a long white box with black paper hanging out of it. She grabbed the step stool and climbed up to pick up the box. Planting it on the bed, she opened it and saw her mother’s wedding dress. Lisa felt she knew that dress very well from the lace that circled around her neckline to the pearls that were sewn on the sleeves. She had seen the dress in the wedding picture mom kept in the china cabinet. At that time, her dad had a full head of brown wavy hair that fell down to his collar, and bangs that swept across his forehead showing off his big brown eyes. Her mother said he reminded her of the members from the singing group called The Beatles. Lisa only remembered him with a bald spot in the middle of the back of his head, and his receding hairline. Back then her mother had long brown hair that she pulled into a French twist showing off her brown eyes. Dad was only five-foot six inches, so he did not like mom to wear high heels. She was only five-foot-three without them and he wanted to appear much taller than her.

  Lisa pulled the dress out of the box to take a closer look. Her mom had always said that she wanted her to wear her wedding dress when she got married. Being a few inches shorter meant she would have to have it shortened – that is, if she really wanted to wear it. Lisa dreamed often about getting married. As she held the dress up to her, she noticed some journals beneath. They were tied together with a yellow ribbon ever so neatly. She picked up the top journal, her fingers trembled as she opened it. On the first page, a note was affixed with her name on it.

  Dear Lisa,

  I don’t know how to put into words what I have to tell you. I am sorry for what I am about to reveal. I was diagnosed with acute lymphoma a few years ago. I never even told your dad. He was so weak, and we had all we could do to keep up with his medical bills and his dialysis that I decided I would just allow myself to live till God told me it was time to go home. I put this journal together for you slowly, at times when your dad was at dialysis and I was home alone, to describe how happy your father and I were, and how much of a blessing you were to us. I knew the time would come, and he would be going to heaven and I would be going soon also. I hope this will bring you some comfort. Remember that we will always be in your heart, and that we love you very much.

  Love,

  Mom

  Chapter Five

  Lisa’s Gift

  Natalie’s Journal

  Lisa took a deep breath before she began to read the journal. It was like sneaking into the heart of her parent’s private life together.

  I was only eighteen years old when I met your father. It was in the early 70’s, and I felt like a flower child even though I did not smoke grass or take drugs. I put flowers in my hair, wore hip hugger bell-bottom jeans and big hoop earrings, and gave the peace sign to everyone I met.

  It was a warm and fragrant day in the fall with lots of petunias. The trees held a multitude of beautiful colors. I remember because I was walking to the bus station. I worked in downtown Chicago as a page at The Chicago Title and Trust building. As a matter of fact, when I went to work I actually had to wear a dress and high heels. It was quite a distance for me to walk and catch the bus. Then, I had to take the A-Train and another bus, plus walk a few more blocks to get to work, but I loved it. I love the City of Chicago. To me, that city was like another planet. Nothing could compare to its beauty and culture.

  One day as I was walking to the bus, a 1965 green Mustang pulled over to the side of the street ,and a young man asked me if he could give me a lift. I ignored him at first and kept on walking.
As I tried to move along a little faster, my ankle gave way on me, and I tripped and fell to the ground - not very gracefully I might add! You can imagine how dumbfounded I felt, but that person immediately came to my rescue. He had rich brown hair that fell to his collar, and big soft brown eyes. He was there in an instant with his hand grabbing my elbow to help me stand up.

  “My name is Michael,” he said.

  “Natalie,” I responded, feeling my cheeks turn pink. Since my ankle hurt, I awkwardly accepted a ride to the bus. I did think of him at work, and was so surprised to see him at the bus stop again when I left that day for home.

  “How’s it going?” He asked after I got off the bus. “No more falls I hope.”

  I felt myself blush again with embarrassment.

  “You weren’t around to save me, so I had to wait until I saw you again,” I said playfully.

  He smiled, and our eyes met with a hint of something that made me feel a certain kind of closeness with him. Odd, since I’d never seen him before in my life. Instinctively, he asked me if he could drive me home. I hesitated while I mulled the idea over. He certainly was good looking enough, but was that a good reason to accept a ride from a stranger?

  “Sure,” I said finally, taking a chance.

  He was a gentleman, and took me straight home with the promise that I would go out with him on Friday night. I dressed in blue hip hugger bell-bottom jeans, and a tie-dyed shirt that hung just to the top of my jeans. When I raised my arms, my tummy showed. My hair was long and straight. I parted it in the middle, and let it fall naturally down my back. I used to like how Cher dressed, and mimicked her in any way that I could; even the way she wore her hair. Michael showed up in blue jeans as well, with a blue shirt neatly tucked in his pants. He behaved like a perfect gentleman, opening and closing the car door for me.

  He drove to an old nickelodeon restaurant, and when we walked in, there were big mirrors on either side like the kind that you find at the circus that make you look either tall or fat. That was an amusing way to start a date, laughing at each other. The lighting was dim, and tables with bench seats lined the walls. As we sat at our table, the bench suddenly moved with one side going upward, which I have to admit frightened me. As it went down, we both laughed aloud. Another interesting feature was the toys that lined the ceiling. Every time someone threw a coin at them, they made noises, like a monkey that played the cymbals or drums.

  The food was just alright, but the atmosphere was so much fun. Beatles music, and tunes from the Monkeys and Frankie Avalon played in the background. It was drowned out every time someone hit a toy overhead. The joint was pretty full with people laughing and throwing coins. I don’t think I ever had so much fun and laughed so hard.

  “So what do you think of this place?” Asked Michael. He gave me another coin to throw, and I hit the monkey just right making the cymbals play again.

  “This place is so much fun,” I giggled. “I have never heard of this place before. How did you ever find it?”

  He just smiled at me with those brown eyes shining. “I am glad you are having so much fun.”

  Next, the song “It’s a Hard Day’s Night” from the Beatles came on, and I started to softly sing it. Michael became amused with me, and was making fun of me by singing with a funny voice. Thank heavens we got drowned out every time someone threw a coin up to the cute animals with the cymbals.

  This place seemed to break the awkwardness of a first date. It broke the ice, and gave us something to talk about on our way home.

  “You know I do really sing,” Michael said as he drove.

  “I could tell,” I laughed. “Your voice was so… so… I really don’t have the words to describe what I heard.” I watched as his face lighted up into a smile.

  “Really.” He added. “What would you say if I told you I also play guitar.”

  I turned my head to try and get a good look at his face. I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me, or if he was for real.

  “Yeah, really, I do. . . Well, I mean I did,” he corrected himself. “I use to be in a band while in high school, and play at all the dances.”

  “Oh,” I said, “So how many groupies did you have?”

  After the date when Michael brought me home, he walked me to my door. He took my hands in his, stared deeply into my eyes, and told me I had the prettiest blue eyes he had ever seen. Then he gently kissed my hand.

  “Natalie,” he asked, “may I see you again?”

  I quietly said yes hoping he could hear me since my heart was beating so loud. Be still my heart!

  The following night, he came over and we went for a ride in his car. The sounds of Santana emanated from the radio. Michael told me that he played bass guitar, and was in a group that auditioned once. He told me they did not make it because a group called Styx just got a contract, and they sounded too much alike. We stopped for burgers at McDonald’s, and talked some more. I learned that Michael was a year and a half older than me. He had attended college too, but had difficulty concentrating on schoolwork. Since his parents would only pay for his college if he acquired A’s in his subjects, he decided to drop out and continued loading trucks from a dock.

  We drove downtown to the beach, where we took off our shoes and walked along the water’s edge. We continued to talk, and listened to the seagulls crying overhead. I truly enjoyed that time with Michael. He was so easy to talk with, and we certainly did a lot of it. In fact, we seemed to really hit it off. And each time our eyes locked, I noticed that his were an incredibly gentle brown.

  The following weekend my cousin was getting married. and I was standing in it. I asked Michael to come and be my date. He paused and winked before answering with an emphatic “yes!” He picked me up right on time, and looked so handsome in a suit and tie. He certainly cleaned up well! In fact, I had to catch my breath when I saw him. Michael teased me about the maroon dress that my cousin made me wear, and after the wedding we snuck out of the reception to sit at the bar sipping cokes and talking away from the noisy crowd.

  “You ever going to get married?” He asked.

  I admit I was thrown for a loop by that question, but played it cool. I told him, “I guess some day when the right man comes along.”

  The band in the bar came back on and played a slow song.

  “Want to dance?” He asked as we finished our cokes.

  “Dance? No one else is dancing at the moment, Michael.”

  “This is my favorite song, and I’d love to dance with you,” he prodded. “Would you please dance with me, Natalie?”

  I fidgeted in my chair, and felt my cheeks flush.

  “Come on,” Michael whispered against my cheek. “That’s what people do at a wedding.”

  He took my hand and walked me to the dance floor. No one else had gotten up, and it seemed as if a hundred eyes turned our way before a few people joined us.

  “Is this okay?” Michael checked, and I couldn’t help smiling.

  “You know, this is fun,” I noted. “What’s this song anyway? You said it was your favorite.”

  “I have no idea, Natalie,” Michael replied unabashedly. “I just wanted an excuse to hold you close.”

  And that he did. I loved being in his arms, and felt dizzy when he spun me around with the music. I had to admit that it was great fun being with Michael. He just went with the flow, and did not need a logical reason for doing anything. By then, the damage was done. I was falling for that man. I could not believe it myself. Everything was happening so fast.

  When he brought me home that night, he walked me to the front porch.

  “I have a question for you,” he whispered against the side of my ear.

  Shivers raced up my arms to my shoulders. “Okay,” I whispered back.

  “How do you feel about us so far?”

  I softly kissed him on the cheek. “Like that.”

  He smiled broadly and whispered, “Me too.”

  Then he leaned in and kissed me on the lips. From that night f
orward, we were together all the time. He picked me up in the evenings from the bus stop and every weekend we kept each other company. We watched his favorite movie, Star Trek, and played checkers or chess. We had become inseparable.

  Chapter Six

  Moving Forward

  Lisa’s Story Continues

  Lisa put the journal down, sighed, and drew in a deep breath. Her mind was at ease for the moment. What she had just read was exactly how she envisioned things might have been with her parents. She got up and put the wedding dress back into the black paper inside the box before returning it to the closet. It would be the last room she would clean out, because there were just too many memories, and she was not ready to part with even one of them – at least not yet.

  Lisa spotted a clay ashtray she’d made in the fifth grade sitting on the dresser. She had to mold it like a small snake and curl it around until it looked like a bowl. Then, she glazed it and chose a blue color before it was placed in an oven. Mom had set a pair of gold earrings in it. Neither of her parents smoked, but her mother said it would be great for her jewelry.

  Next to the bowl was her mother’s Esteé Lauder Beautiful Perfume Spray. She shook the bottle before squirting a few drops onto her wrist. She always knew when her mother was going out, because that was the fragrance of choice for any special occasion. The thought made her frown as she recalled how long it had been since her mother had actually gone out and worn her perfume. Her jewelry box was sitting there too, and Lisa opened it up to find her mother’s favorite opal necklace with matching ring and bracelet. She picked up the dainty silver chain. Her mother always told her that she wore it on her wedding day, and was saving it for her to wear on hers. The colors within the opal were simply magnificent. Carefully, she tucked it back inside.

  “Why?” She whispered out loud. “Why didn’t mom tell me before that she had cancer so I could take care of her?”

  Maybe because I had been so busy with school she did not want to be a burden on me. Suddenly she felt ashamed. I should have noticed that mom was losing weight before dad’s death. I should have been around her more.