Skin Deep

by Pamela Sparkman

  “No.” I interrupted him. I could honestly say that I’d never asked myself this question. I shook my head. “I haven’t figured it out yet. I haven’t even truly asked. I think that’s the problem.”

  Hayden nodded. “Let’s figure it out…together.”

  I breathed in deeply and let it back out slowly, then answered without hesitation. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he repeated.

  After a brief pause, I said, “I should get going. It’s late.”

  Hayden led me to the front door. I stepped outside and turned around. “I don’t hate you, Hayden. I never did. If I called you tomorrow, would that be okay?”

  “If I showed up at your house tomorrow, and picked you up for a date, would that be okay?”

  I smiled. Really smiled. “Okay.”

  “Okay. Our first real date. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “At seven,” I confirmed and began the walk to my car.

  When I reached for the car handle, Hayden yelled out, “Wear your glasses, Beth. I like it when you wear your glasses.”

  Beth

  “Miss?” the impatient customer bellowed as I fumbled with four plates of “Today’s Specials” for another table.

  “I’ll be right there,” I answered, silently wishing Fran hadn’t called in sick this morning. It had been the day from hell and I still had two hours to go before my shift was over.

  “Can I get some ketchup for my fries?” a lady two booths down shouted to me.

  My forehead beaded with sweat and my hands began to tremble. Ignoring it, I plastered on a fake smile. “Of course,” I replied. “One second.”

  “Miss?” the impatient customer from before bellowed again.

  Ignoring him this time, I continued to pass out the plates to the four people in front of me. I needed to get through this shift. “Will you need anything else?” I asked.

  The gentleman closest to me answered, “No, we’re good.”

  “I’ll need some hot sauce,” the blonde seated closest to the window said.

  Hot sauce. I spun around and grabbed a bottle off a table behind me that no one was sitting at. “Here you go. Anything else?”

  Eat and throw up. You’ll feel better.

  “Can I have a knife? A real one, not this butter knife,” the brunette with her hair pulled tightly in a bun asked.

  “Certainly,” I said. “Anything else?”

  Please God don’t let there be anything else.

  “Miss?” the same male customer called out again. This makes three times now. Flustered, I called back, “I’ll be right there.”

  Sneak off. Sneak off.

  “I think if you bring us a knife for her, we’ll be good.”

  “Okay, let me do that now.” I made my way quickly to retrieve a knife and returned to their table. “There you go. Enjoy your meal.”

  Finally, I moved to the impatient man who glared at me with frustration. “So sorry about that. We’re shorthanded today,” I said, taking a much needed breath while pulling out my pen and pad.

  Go when no one is looking.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “I’ll have the BLT, hold the tomato, add cheese, on rye not wheat, a side order of fries, and a sweet tea. And be quick about it would you? I’m in a hurry and I’ve been waiting for over ten minutes.”

  Jotting it all down, I tucked my order pad and pen back inside my apron. “Of course. I’ll put your order in right away.” Irritated, I turned and headed towards the kitchen to place the man’s order.

  After turning in the ticket the lady from before shouted, “I’m still waiting for ketchup!”

  I started my trek back towards the lady when a man approached out of nowhere, grabbed a ketchup bottle off a vacant table, and set it down in front of her with a thud. “Well would you look at that? A ketchup bottle not even two steps away from you. How badly did you want it?” he said with condescension.

  Hayden.

  Immediately I felt ten times lighter, like the sun had come out after a storm. I smiled for the first time all day.

  The woman sucked in her breath. A look of surprise written across her face. “You don’t have to be rude about it!” she huffed with an air of superiority.

  “I’m not being rude. You are. If I wanted to be rude I would tell you to–”

  “Hayden,” I said, interrupting him. Walking quickly to him, I tugged on his arm, leading him away from the angry woman. “What are doing here?”

  His eyes softened when he saw me. The corners of his mouth turned up. “I was hungry, thought I’d grab a bite to eat.”

  I peeked over my shoulder at the woman he nearly cussed out. She looked like a cross between someone who had sucked on a lemon and someone who had their eyebrows lifted. “You can’t be rude to the customers, Hayden.”

  “No, you can’t be rude to the customers. I can say whatever I want. I don’t work here.”

  “Be that as it may,” I said, pulling him further away from the woman. “I would prefer it if you didn’t engage anyone that way.” I felt a warm sensation spread throughout my body, beginning at my toes, traveling upwards. A smile bubbled out against my will.

  “I’m not making any promises,” Hayden said, looking at me closely. “You okay? You look a little piqued.”

  “Piqued?”

  “Sorry, a Ms. Sophie term. I meant–”

  “No, I know what it means. I just wouldn’t expect you to use the word piqued.” I gave him a lopsided grin. “I’m tired is all. Fran is out sick so we’re shorthanded today. Vera and I are running ourselves to death.”

  “I can see that.” Hayden lifted his eyes away to peer over my head, which wasn’t hard for him to do. I stand at about 5’2” while he stands at about 6’2”. I felt like a child next to him.

  Sal dinged his bell and shouted over the noisy diner, “Order up!”

  “That’s me. I gotta grab this order.”

  “Which station is yours today?” Hayden asked.

  I pointed, “These tables here are mine. That one over there is empty. You can sit there. I’ll be over in a minute to clean it off for you.” I turned around without allowing Hayden a chance to respond because I needed to get this BLT served pronto. By the time I made it back to Hayden he had cleaned off the table himself, grabbed some silverware, and already had a menu.

  “I could have gotten that for you,” I said, pointing to his napkin-rolled utensils and the menu he held in his hands.

  “I don’t want you to wait on me, Beth. I just wanted to see you.” His eyes took a leisurely stroll over my body. I felt heat everywhere his eyes touched me, like his eyes held the power to warm my skin. If his eyes held so much power, I wondered what kind of power his hands held, and would I even survive it. It’s likely I would spontaneously combust the moment his hands touched my skin. I began counting my rapid heartbeats in an attempt to not think about what his hands would feel like. I was up to ten when he said, “Maybe I’ll have a burger while I’m at it.”

  Swallowing thickly, I asked, “All the way?”

  Hayden nodded, his clear-blue eyes locked on mine.

  I blinked, forcing myself to look away. “I’ll put your order in.” I speed walked away from him and slapped the ticket across the counter to Sal. “Burger – all the way.”

  I made my rounds to my customers, including Hayden, and when I handed him the check at the end of his meal he said, “I’ll pick you up at seven.” He stood, and reached for my hand, placing cash in my palm. “I know you’re busy so I won’t keep you.” He leaned forward, kissed my forehead, and walked towards the door. “Seven o’clock,” he said again, maneuvering around a customer as he exited and they entered. I watched him climb into the cab of his truck and slowly ease out into traffic.

  I opened my hand, and noticed a folded up napkin inside the money. I began to unfold it, catching a glimpse of something scrawled on it, and then Sal shouted, “Order up!”

  I tucked the napkin inside my pocket, promising m
yself I’d read it later.

  By the time I got home I was exhausted. But even through the exhaustion I stood on tired legs and stared at my refrigerator. I wanted nothing more than to open that refrigerator door and devour everything in it. It was a compulsion that ebbed and flowed. Some days, I could fight the urge to binge and purge. Other days I couldn’t. Those were the days I felt alienated from my own body.

  Fighting the battle within my brain, my hands trembled.

  Eat. Eat it all. You’ll feel better.

  No.

  Eat. There’s nothing stopping you. Do it.

  NO!

  I gripped the edge of the countertop, turned around, and closed my eyes. I don’t want to do this anymore.

  You’ll feel better. Eat. Eat. Eat.

  A teardrop fell onto the counter and I wiped it away, angry that this affliction was making me feel so raw. I didn’t want to feel raw.

  Maybe if I do it I will feel better.

  I turned around once again and stared at the refrigerator door. I knew if I opened it, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I would eat and eat and eat.

  Slowly, I reached for the door, and then another voice inside my head said, “You have a date with Hayden tonight. Don’t do it. He wouldn’t want you to do this.”

  I shoved my hands into my front pockets in a last ditch effort to stop myself from opening that door. My fingers rubbed against the napkin and I remembered Hayden had written something on it. I pulled it out and read it.

  North Star.

  I stared at it for long minutes, blinking back the tears. I closed my eyes, breathed, and exhaled a breath that felt like I was releasing a month’s worth of anxiety. Then I told myself…

  Not today. I’m not binging and purging today.

  Hayden

  Beth wore her glasses like I had asked. This fact made me smile. She wore a yellow skirt with a lacy white blouse, and her shoes matched her skirt. Her hair was swept up on the sides and loose blonde curls fell down her back. She looked beautiful.

  She was also fidgeting with her hands. She’d been doing that since I picked her up. She’d barely said anything on the way to the restaurant, staring out the passenger window, not looking at me.

  My mind was kind of all over the place too. After I left the diner today, I went to see Annabeth.

  Walking up to their apartment door, I knocked, and soon after, Annabeth answered the door.

  I shook my head and put my hands on my hips. “Annie, you aren’t supposed to answer the door without asking who it is. What if I’d been a stranger?”

  “You’re not. You’re Kish. I can answer the door for you.”

  “That’s not the point, sweetheart. Next time…ask who it is first.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry. You coming in?”

  “Of course. I came to see you didn’t I?” Annie opened the door so I could step through, smiling that fantastic smile of hers. Their apartment was small; however, they had enough space for the two of them. I had made sure they had nice furniture when I got this place for them. The first thing I bought was a princess bed for Annie. Well, she calls it her princess bed. To me, it’s a canopy bed, but whatever makes her happy.

  Looking around, I asked, “Where’s your mom?”

  “In bed. She’s not feeling good.”

  I sighed inwardly. Her mom was having more and more days like this. I’d first started to notice the changes in her about a year ago, and by and by she was consistently getting worse. “You think your mom would mind if I peeked in on her…see how she’s feeling?”

  Annie grabbed hold of my hand. “I’ll come with you.” She led me to her mom’s door, and rather than knocking, she bulldozed her way inside. I stopped at the door, keeping my eyes trained on the tops of my shoes, worried she may not be properly dressed.

  “Mommy, Kish is here. He wants to peek at you.”

  I laughed. “Correction…I wanted to peek in on you.” I stopped myself realizing that may not sound right either. Pervert much? “I mean, I wanted to see how you were feeling.”

  I heard a small laugh. “It’s all right, Hayden. You can come in. I’m decent.”

  Slowly I lifted my eyes to see Molly, Annie’s mom. Her eyes appeared sunken in even from here. Dark circles underneath completed the picture of being unwell. “How are you feeling?” I asked, approaching the chair beside her bed, and taking a seat.

  Molly’s eyes landed on Annie while she twirled around in circles at the foot of the bed. She was never still, always bouncing or twirling around. I’m happy to see it, because there was a time not so long ago, she couldn’t do any of that.

  Molly watched her daughter with an unspeakable love and then said, “Annie, honey, you mind getting Mommy some juice? I’m a bit thirsty.”

  “Okay,” Annie said mid-twirl. “I’ll be right back.” Annie practically skipped down the hall, the loud pitter-patter of her small feet echoing throughout the apartment.

  Molly turned her attention to me. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Annabeth.”

  “What did your doctor say?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I have a weak heart.” She nodded resolutely. “I’m making sure I’m getting plenty of rest. I’ll be okay.”

  I leaned forward and touched her hand. “If you need me to take Annie for a few days all you have to do is tell me.”

  “Thank you. We’re fine. Really.”

  Annie came back into the room, taking slow meticulous steps, both hands gripping the glass of juice she’d filled to the rim, trying not to spill it.

  I carefully took the glass from her and set it beside Molly’s bed. “You little stinker, why did you fill it so full?”

  “I didn’t want to waste it, Kish. The jug was almost empty, so I poured it all in the glass.” Then she looked at her mom. “We’re out of juice now, Mommy, so we’ll need to get some more.”

  “I’ll pick some up for you,” I said to Molly. “If you think of anything else, let me know and I’ll get it.”

  Molly nodded. “Thank you, Hayden. I’m gonna rest now. I’m really tired.”

  “Okay. I’m gonna hang out with Annie for a bit.” I squeezed her hand, hoping she knew I was here for her, because she had no one else. Only Annie, and now me.

  A firetruck came screaming passed us, blazing a trail to wherever they were headed, and I realized I had been lost inside my own head. I immediately felt bad for having been so distracted.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” I said, stealing a glance at Beth before returning my eyes back to the road.

  In a hushed voice, Beth said, “I’m nothing but a pile of sand.”

  I stole another glance at her and tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “What do you mean?”

  Beth gazed out the passenger window while the sounds of our breaths filled the space between us. “I imagine myself as a sandcastle sometimes. Like, instead of being a pile of sand, I’ve been transformed into this beautiful thing. There I am, out on display for anyone walking by to stop and stare, maybe even admire, with the sun beating down on me, making me feel warm and comforted. And when I’m in that moment, I feel good. Really good.”

  Beth paused briefly, licked her lips, and continued to fidget with her hands. “Then the sun begins to set, casting shadows on me. People leave and the darkness creeps in, wrapping me in the feeling of nothingness. I feel the tide inching closer and closer seeking to destroy me. Little by little the waves begin to lap at my castle walls, taunting me as they slowly consume me. When the tide comes in, it washes away everything I had become until I’m right back where I started… a pile of sand.”

  Beth glanced at me and then shifted her eyes away. “That’s what bulimia is like for me. I can feel good about myself, and then against my will, I’m taken under by it, and when the dawn breaks and I look around, all I’m left with are fragments of myself, no longer recognizable to anyone, even to me. That’s the only way I can explain it.” A tear dripped down her cheek. “There are days so dark I don’t feel li
ke the sun has come out at all.”

  My chest felt tight, my lungs burdened by the lack of air I was taking in, my heart bruised. I pulled off to the side of the road and sat there for a minute trying to regain my ability to breathe. I was overcome with sadness and I fought the urge not to weep right here because that’s what I really wanted to do. My jaws ached and I couldn’t swallow.

  Beth sat with her arms wrapped tightly around herself and waited for me to break the silence. After a few long minutes passed, a whispered plea brushed passed her lips. “Say something.”

  I realized that my hands were clenched into tight fists, so I relaxed them and ran my open palms over my jeans, willing myself to get my shit together.

  She was letting me in, the very thing I had been begging her to do. She had found a way to let me see what was on the inside, and even though it was hard for her, she did it anyway.

  “I think …” The words caught in my throat. I swallowed my own pain and tried again. “I think you’re the bravest person I know.”

  I reached for her and pulled her into my arms, burying my face in the curve of her neck and breathed her in. “Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

  “Why are you thanking me?”

  “Shhhh. Let me hold you a minute.” She brought her arms up and wrapped them around me.

  In those minutes, when I was holding her, something passed between us. A bond. She was no longer alone in her agony. And I was no longer beating down her walls to get in. She opened the door, and I walked through.