Maybe I was jealous because he was everything to my parents and I was nothing.
Maybe I was paranoid and believed I truly did become invisible whenever he was around. And I didn’t want to become invisible to Angela.
I struggled to wrestle my anger under control and chose not to say anything more.
Rick moved past me and patted my shoulder reassuringly.
Something in me relaxed. I was at least glad I had confronted him.
I only wish I’d had the sense to find the proper way to confront Angela, too.
Chapter Fourteen
After a three-and-a-half-week winter vacation at home, it was time for Rick to return to California for his final semester at UCLA. He caught a flight out on New Year’s Day.
I felt guilty when I said good-bye to him at the airport, outside the entrance to security. Since the family dinner on Christmas Day—when I’d accused him of flirting with my girlfriend—nothing had been the same between us. A wedge had come down like a meat cleaver that night and we hardly saw each other for the rest of the holidays. He didn’t call to spend time with me, and when I called the house, he was never home. The few times I did see him, there was no more brotherly teasing, no more headlocks and noogies.
I was accustomed to a cool distance and lack of communication between me and my parents, but suddenly I was facing that same guarded expression from my brother, and I began to wonder if the problem was with me.
Did I feel some sort of contempt for every member of my family? Did they sense it and respond as any normal person would? If you believed someone disliked you, wouldn’t you withdraw from them? If they treated you with mistrust, wouldn’t you give up trying to be close?
Was that why I was estranged from my family? Was it me?
So I made an extra effort to hug Rick a little tighter than usual at the airport on the day he left.
“I’m sorry about what happened on Christmas Day,” I said quickly in his ear. “Let’s forget about it, okay?”
We stepped back and a look of relief washed over his face. “No apologies,” he said. “She’s a great girl. You were right to be possessive, and if I did anything out of line, I apologize. You know me. I can’t help trying to charm the girls.”
I chuckled and looked down at my shoes. “Maybe you should go to flirting rehab.”
He laughed, too. “Yeah. And listen, hang onto that one,” he said as he started to back away. “She’s a keeper.”
I looked up. “Don’t flunk out when you get back to class,” I said.
“I’ll try not to.” He turned and waved a hand over his shoulder. Then he was gone, and I experienced a sudden pang of loss as a vivid memory flashed through my mind��of Rick and me building a snowman in front of our house. I was only five or six. He helped me push a giant snowball up the slope of the driveway.
As I turned away from the entrance to security and walked through the wide corridors of the airport, another random memory came to me. I remembered a night when our parents had gone out and left us home without a babysitter for the first time. We ate too much junk food and an hour after we went to bed, I woke up with a stomach ache. Rick fetched me a glass of water and stayed at my side, assuring me it would pass. The sick feeling did pass, and eventually I fell asleep.
He was a good brother when we were children. Now he was gone and somehow I knew he would never return to the east coast to live. Life would carry us in different directions. I would remain here while he would pursue a career in California. And of course he would be wildly successful.
Little did I know that I would see him again far sooner than I expected.
Chapter Fifteen
A few days after Rick left, I began to detect subtle changes in Angela’s personality. She went to bed earlier, grew less talkative, and seemed to have lost the quirky sense of humor I found so attractive.
Depression wasn’t something people discussed as often or as openly back then, but even if it was, I’m not sure I would have considered it a possibility. All I knew was that my girlfriend had retreated into a shell for some reason I couldn’t understand and I missed her. I wanted her back.
“Want to go to a movie tonight?” I asked her on the phone when I arrived home to an empty apartment after work. That was unusual for a Friday. Instead of coming to my place, she had gone to her parent’s house.
“Not tonight,” she replied. “I’m not feeling that great.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “Are you sick?” I paused for a moment, then sat on the sofa. “You seem down.”
“I’m just tired,” she replied. “They’ve been giving me too many early morning shifts. I think I need to catch up on some sleep.”
“All right. Why don’t you get some rest and give me a call tomorrow?”
“I will,” she replied.
The following day, my phone never rang.
Nor did it ring the day after that.
* * *
On Monday night, I went to the pub where Angela worked and asked to speak to her. The manager informed me that she had called in sick for the past three days.
As soon as my shift ended, I rode my bike to her parents’ house and knocked on the door. Her mother answered.
“Oh, Jesse,” she said with a look of sympathy and regret that caught me off guard. “Hi.”
I was still out of breath from the long bike ride, and had to wipe my coat sleeve across my brow. “Is Angela here?”
“Yes, she’s in her room.” Mrs. Donovan stepped back and opened the door wider to invite me in. “Why don’t you go in and talk to her? She could use some cheering up.”
“Cheering up?” I replied as I stepped over the threshold and removed my sneakers.
Mrs. Donovan sighed. “She hasn’t been feeling well for the past few days. I can’t get her to eat and she won’t go see a doctor. I’m a bit concerned.”
“Does she have any other symptoms?” I asked. Not that it would make a difference if Mrs. Donovan recited a list because I wasn’t a medical professional. I loaded suitcases on airplanes for a living.
“Do you mean like a sinus infection or nausea?” she asked. “Not that I know of. She just won’t get out of bed. I’d like her to have some blood work done because it could be an iron deficiency or something simple like that. Maybe you could talk her into going to see her doctor? She won’t listen to me. She keeps telling me she’s fine.”
“I’ll try.”
I moved down the hall and knocked on her door. No answer came, so I knocked a second time. Meanwhile my heart began to pound. What if this was something more serious, like cancer or some other fatal ailment?
If that’s what we were dealing with we needed to find out sooner rather than later. I knocked harder and more urgently.
Chair legs scraped across the floor inside, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps.
“What is it?” Angela snapped from the other side of the door.
At least she’s out of bed, I thought.
“It’s me. Jesse.”
More silence.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
She certainly took her time thinking about it. I was forced to stand in the hallway while her mother watched me discreetly from the kitchen.
I knew in that moment that something was definitely wrong with my girlfriend. Then the knob slowly turned, and the door opened.
Chapter Sixteen
“Geez, you look like hell,” I said when Angela invited me in.
Her hair was greasy and matted to her head. She wore a loose pair of gray sweatpants with holes at the knees and a white T-shirt that had seen better days. There was a filmy sheen to her complexion. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she hadn’t washed her face since Christmas.
“I know,” she replied and shut the door behind me.
I moved into the room and glanced around at the unmade bed and the dirty dishes on the nightstand. “You okay?”
“Not really.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and
dropped her gaze to her hands on her lap. I wondered why she wouldn’t look at me.
Crouching down before her, I took both her hands in mine. “What can I do?”
“Nothing.”
I paused, then raised her hands to my lips and kissed them. “Your mom wanted me to convince you to go see a doctor. She thinks you might have an iron deficiency.”
I certainly wasn’t about to say, ‘You should get tested because you might have some horrible terminal disease.’
Angela shook her head. “I don’t have an iron deficiency.”
“Then what is it?” I asked. “Tell me because I want to help. I miss you and I want you to feel better. No matter what it takes, I’m here for you.”
Her eyes lifted and she regarded me with dark and angry derision. I felt as if I’d just walked onto the set of The Exorcist.
More than a little shaken by this change in the girl I loved, I sat back on the floor and leaned on both arms. “Talk to me.”
For a long moment she fiddled with the frayed fabric around the holes of her sweatpants, then she abruptly stood up and walked to the window. Looking out at the neighbor’s house next door, she folded her arms at her chest. “It’s not an easy thing to say.”
“Try,” I replied.
Turning to face me, she sat down on the windowsill. “I’m not happy here, and I need to leave. I’ve already booked a plane ticket, but I haven’t told my parents yet.”
My brow furrowed with bewilderment. “A plane ticket to where?”
“Out West,” she said. “California.”
A sick feeling rolled like a jagged boulder into my gut, and I rose to my feet. “Why? What’s in California? Or should I ask who?”
Suddenly the tension in the room was as thick as bread dough.
“Your brother,” she said.
Shutting my eyes, I cupped my forehead in a hand. “No.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you, but it’s why I’ve been curled up in a ball for the past three days. I can’t stay here anymore. I’m suffocating, Jesse. I need to go to LA.”
“To be with Rick?” I asked, horrified.
She nodded.
“Does he know about this? Does he know how you feel?”
She scoffed and sat down on the bed. “Of course he knows and it’s been hell for both of us. We both tried so hard to ignore how we felt, but it just wasn’t possible. I’m in love with him and I have to be with him.”
The room was spinning. Everything was turning red.
“What are you telling me?” I asked. “That the two of you went around together behind my back?”
Gaze lowered, she nodded.
“When?” I demanded to know.
How could I not have known?
Angela shrugged. “Usually while you were at work. Sometimes we met at your place.”
No, no.
No! This was too much!
Bracing my hands on my hips, I began to pace around her bedroom. “For the love of God, please don’t tell me you slept with him.”
Her lack of a response provided the answer and sent my blood into a wild frenzy. I stopped pacing and faced her. “Are you crazy? He doesn’t love you, not like I do.”
How pathetic I sounded. I wanted to smother myself with a pillow.
Angela rose defensively to her feet. “Yes, he does. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know what it was like.” She paused to catch her breath. “I’m sorry, but I’m in love with him and I can’t take this anymore. Ever since he left, I’ve been wasting away. I’ll die if I don’t go. I need to be with him and I’m leaving tomorrow.”
I shook my head in a mad attempt to clear this nightmare from my brain. It couldn’t be happening. Rick wouldn’t have done this to me.
Had he really lied to me at the terminal when we said good-bye? How could he have made me feel like such a jealous fool?
“Have you talked to him since he left?” I asked. “Does he know you want to follow him?”
“Of course he knows,” she replied. “He told me to come and move in with him because he can’t take it either. You don’t understand. What happened between us was…” She stopped.
“It was what?” My stomach churned. I was going to be sick.
“It was intense and I can’t possibly explain it any better than that. You wouldn’t understand. There are no words. All I know is that I never felt anything like this before and I believe he’s my soul mate. I think we must have known each other in heaven or something, and I think it’s why I met you in the parking lot that day. You were meant to lead me to Rick. That’s why it all happened this way.”
I seriously wanted to puke.
Soul mate? They met in heaven? She had completely lost her mind.
“It won’t last,” I told her. “It may seem exciting and romantic now, but I know my brother. Mark my words, you’ll end up with a broken heart.”
She shook her head again. “No, you’re wrong. I know he’s been with a lot of girls—he told me about all that—but this is different. I’m not like the other girls who go after him, and he needs me as much as I need him. I feel terrible that this is hurting you, Jesse. Believe me, he feels terrible, too. But we have to be together.”
The rage I felt toward my brother paled in comparison to the dismal despair that was snaking its way through my body. I loved Angela with a passion I never knew existed, and the thought of losing her to my brother made me want to double over in agony. I couldn’t even begin to imagine that she had made love to him. That she had given herself to him so completely. I wanted to collapse to my knees and beg her to tell me it wasn’t true.
“Please, Angela,” I said. “Don’t do this.” I took a step closer. “He’s not the one for you. I love you and I’ll marry you tomorrow if you’ll stay. Please, don’t go.”
I had never in my life felt so wretched and pathetic.
She backed away. “Don’t touch me. I’m not yours anymore. I’m his.”
God in heaven. I wanted to wring his neck. My hands clenched into fists. I couldn’t breathe… Couldn’t get air into my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” Angela said. “We didn’t want to hurt you, but we couldn’t stop it. We tried.”
That was enough. It was more than I could take. I had to get out of there.
“Good luck to you both,” I said, knowing they would eventually be miserable together—although Rick wouldn’t let that go on for long. The minute the shine wore off, he’d cut Angela loose and enjoy his freedom again like he always did.
Meanwhile Angela would wallow in despair for months or years.
If she thought this was bad, just wait.
“Bye,” I said as I turned and walked out of her room.
Out of her house and out of her life.
I peddled home through the frigid, murderous cold, as if the hounds of hell were behind me.
When I climbed into bed that night, I imagined what the future would hold for Angela. What would I do when she came home in tears six months from now after Rick broke her heart and moved on to some other girl? Would I be here to comfort her? Would I take her back?
I rolled to my side and stared at the wall. My chest felt heavy. What if it turned out differently? What if Rick really did love her and she was the one who would change him forever?
What if someday I was uncle to Angela’s children?
I wasn’t sure which scenario would be worse.
And either way, would I ever be able to forgive?
Chapter Seventeen
Someday came sooner than I expected. Five months after I said good-bye to Angela and stood on the tarmac watching her flight take off for LA—five months after I promised myself I would forget her—I received a phone call out of the blue.
“Hi, Jesse.”
The sound of her voice in my ear caused a fireball of grief to explode in my stomach. I couldn’t speak right away. All I could do was plunk down on a chair in the kitchen and rest my elbows on my knees.
<
br /> “Are you there?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m here.” I closed my eyes and raked a hand through my hair.
Why was she calling? To tell me she and Rick were getting married?
Or to tell me he’d cheated on her and she wanted to come home?
It still pains me to admit it, but I wanted desperately for the latter to be true. I wanted her to tell me she missed me and that she’d made a terrible mistake. Rick wasn’t the man she believed him to be. I wanted to hear, ‘Please, Jesse, I’m miserable. Will you give me a second chance?’
Would I, if she asked?
But that wasn’t why she was calling.
“You must be surprised to hear from me,” she said.
“Yeah.” I leaned back in my chair and stared up at the ceiling. “How are you doing?”
There was a long pause. Then she sighed. “I’m not sure. It all depends on the next couple of weeks.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
When she didn’t elaborate, I had to poke and prod. “Are you going to tell me what this is about? Or did you just call to torture me?”
Her voice became a whisper. “Jesse, I’m really sorry. You know that was never my intention.”
My pride bucked and I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. Really. Forget I said that. What do you want, Angela? Why are you calling?”
And that’s when she dropped the bomb.
* * *
“You’re what?” I slowly stood up.
“I’m pregnant,” she said. “And I need your help.”
“Why would you need my help?” I asked. “Because that baby can’t be mine.”
Or could it? Had she already been pregnant when she left me?
No, that wasn’t possible. Rick would have told me.
Or maybe not.
“No, of course not. It’s Rick’s,” she said. “There’s no doubt about that. He’s the only one.”
The only one. The words were like a knife in my gut and I had to force myself to relax my shoulders and breathe.
The Color of a Dream Page 4