I walked by an old man wearing khaki pants pulled up to his stomach and a light blue polo shirt tucked in. He was raking the fallen cherry blossoms into a pile as his wife held open a garbage bag for him. I thought to myself that’s how a couple should be, growing old together and still doing everything as a team. That was devotion.
And that will probably never be Ray and I.
I arrived to work at 11:59, barely making it on time. As soon as I walked through the double sliding doors, I saw Bob, my floor manager.
“Sidney. Register eleven, please,” he commanded.
Bob was a man in his mid-forties with a bald head and a potbelly. He was married and had two small children. His family would come in and visit every now and then. The children were well-mannered and his wife was a tall, thin blonde who was completely out of his league. I often wondered how the two ended up together as they seemed like such opposites, but I just summed it up to his jovial personality. He was a pretty laid-back manager and pleasant to work for but he didn’t handle pressure very well.
“Sidney, chop, chop,” he said with his nasally voice. He was always trying to get everyone to hurry. Maybe out of a personal paranoia to compensate for his inability to lead a fluid operation.
I looked at the registers and noticed the huge line backed up at each one. No wonder he’s barking commands at me. His ulcer must be acting up again.
I walked over to register eleven and punched my employee number onto the screen as I flipped on my light.
“I can help the next customer on register eleven,” I shouted.
Quickly a line with about eight people developed in front of my register.
Yep, it’s going to be a long day.
The first half of my shift continued on as I busily scanned my customers’ groceries over and over. The line never receded, but eventually by 4:30 p.m. the rush began to die down, and knowing the calm wouldn’t last long, I decided to take my lunch break. I scanned the floor to inform Bob but he was nowhere to be found.
During a lull in the line, I decided to use my down time to browse the tabloids for any gossip about Ray. I grabbed the Alternative Post magazine that was displayed with the other tabloids above the candy rack.
As I skimmed through it, I saw a picture of Ray as he performed at The Viper Room in Hollywood. His hands gripped the microphone as he sang with his eyes closed. He looked so cute. I smiled to myself as I felt the butterflies in my stomach go wild at the sight of him.
Below his photo was the caption: “Hollywood’s newest most eligible bachelor? Ray Ryker, lead vocalist of the band Unspoken Words, who undoubtedly doesn’t know how to wear his heart anywhere other than on his sleeve, has a new single out. Ladies, get ready, because he may be hinting to the world he’s no longer waiting on his very special lady friend.”
I slammed the magazine shut and tossed it to the side of the register. I hated it that Ray wrote all of his songs about us. It was as if our life was under a giant microscope and the world around us was constantly trying to read into Ray’s songs, hoping to find out their true meaning.
This particular article was in reference to the band’s latest single being played on all the airwaves. The focus of the song was Ray asking if the wait was worth it. I suppose he was referring to waiting on me while I’m here caring for my granny.
I scanned the empty store for a second time, still searching for Bob, but couldn’t find him anywhere. He was probably locked away in the back office trying to escape the afternoon rush. I shook my head in frustration as my empty stomach let out a hungry growl.
Then I noticed someone approaching my line. As I turned to greet the new customer my heart stopped as my eyes drank in the sight of pure perfection. I couldn’t breathe. The instant attraction I had felt for this stranger was overwhelming. I just stood there frozen, completely stupefied and unable to move. Our eyes locked on each other as if we were setting up for a fatal duel. We were both frozen in time, waiting on the other to make the first move.
He wasn’t very tall, five feet nine at the most. But his face made up for the height he lacked.
He had a pale, round face that was shaped like a heart with a high forehead and dark eyebrows that cast a shadow over his big green eyes. He had a tiny mouth with perfectly lined white teeth. His hair was straight and jet black. It was messy and slightly long, reaching his neckline, as it defiantly fell in his face. My mind focused on one thing only.
His eyes. They were the same eyes that had been haunting my dreams for the past six months. The pendant eyes.
Unintentionally, I made the first move when my hand automatically shot up towards my necklace, gripping the emerald as it lay gracefully on my skin. His eyes followed my hands and stayed focused on my pendant until I began feeling uncomfortable. Thank God I retained my professional demeanor.
“Sir, can I take that from you?” I asked, nodding toward the grocery basket he was holding in his pale hands.
He remained frozen.
Wordless.
Those piercing green eyes staring intently at my necklace.
“Sir?” I said a little louder. He must have heard me this time and he gave me a questioning look.
I smiled slightly and gestured to his groceries, “Your basket?”
This was fun.
“Oh, of course,” he replied as he placed his basket on the belt.
I refrained from rolling my eyes and began emptying the contents onto the belt. Nothing bothered me more than a snooty customer too lazy to empty their own groceries from the basket. I unloaded a loaf of whole wheat bread, lunch meat, and tomatoes. I scanned and bagged them all into one paper sack. I could feel those green eyes on me but I was too embarrassed to look up. By this time I was over the fact that the poor man couldn’t even unload his own grocery basket and my thoughts drifted back to his looks. He was so handsome, and he reminded me so much of the man in my dreams.
That’s just crazy, Sidney!
“Okay, that will be $10.81,” I said, forcing myself to look up and meet those eyes.
He made no gesture to get out his wallet and instead rested his elbow on the check writing table, placing his chin on his hand.
The young man looked right through me and said seductively, “That’s a pretty necklace you’re wearing.”
His comment instantly reminded me of Lilly, who had said those same words just weeks before. I swallowed down the sour taste of jealousy in my mouth and flashed him a forced smile.
“Thank you,” I replied.
My hand reflectively shot up to the pendant once again, gripping it tightly, protecting it from his intrusive eyes. Still waiting for payment, I tried to focus on anything besides this gorgeous man taking up time in my line for no apparent reason. I could feel the fire of crimson burning deeply into my cheeks. All I wanted to do was take my lunch break, run into the backroom, and hide.
“Did you buy it around here, maybe at one of those antique shops downtown?”
Of course I loved the necklace because it had belonged to my mother, but for a guy to be so intrigued by it was strange. There were plenty of prettier necklaces in this world and girls these days wanted something new and shiny from the jewelers at the local mall. If he was thinking of buying a gift for his girlfriend, I doubt my pendant would be her first choice.
“No. It belonged to my mother, it’s a family heirloom.” I smiled.
His eyes instantly shot up to mine. He stared into them as if searching for something. I gazed back into his translucent pupils that reflected so brightly, even in the dimly lit store.
Finally Bob came out of the backroom, immediately breaking our trance. Relieved for the distraction, I shouted over to him. “Hey Bob, how about my lunch?” I asked, desperate to escape this awkward encounter.
He nodded and I flipped my light off. Looking back at the creepy, cute guy at my register, I repeated. “That will be $10.81, sir.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. I gave him his change and he left, glancin
g back at me a few times as he exited the store. I rushed to the backroom, closed the door behind me, and let out a huge sigh of relief.
My god, that guy reminded me of the man in my dream. I had so much adrenaline pumping through my veins I could no longer eat. I paced back and forth in the small, bleak room. As I reached into my purse in search of my phone, Chrissy burst through the heavy white door and entered the break room.
She was just about to begin her shift and I had never been so happy to see her in my life. Chrissy always balanced me and brought a sense of normalcy into my being which, in the moment, I desperately needed. We hadn’t had much of a chance to talk since I’d returned from L.A. and now she stood in front of me with her big hazel eyes, demanding that I spill all.
I shrugged my shoulders and sat down in a bright orange seat that reminded me of the chairs in elementary school. All of the giddiness I had from the strange encounter slowly left my body as Chrissy brought me back to reality.
“What do you want me to say, Chrissy, that you were right when you said I should have accepted that scholarship? Well, you were, okay?”
She sat down next to me and placed her hand on my knee as she leaned forward, her eyes full of sincerity. “I don’t want to be right, Sidney. You’re my best friend and I can’t even believe what that jerk did.”
She sat up straight and pressed her back against the chair as she raised her eyebrows. “I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised or anything, but still. It pisses me off. I hate Ray for what he’s done to you.”
Trying to lighten the mood, I changed the subject.
I sat up and flashed Chrissy a sneaky smile. “On another note, the hottest guy ever just came through my line. He had the most beautiful green eyes I have ever laid witness to.”
That statement demanded Chrissy’s full attention. She stood up and exclaimed, “What, you mean ol’ faithful’s looking at another guy? Whoa, L.A. must have been harsher than I suspected.”
She pulled a pair of gold hoop earrings out of her purse and placed them on her ears.
Even in her work clothes, she still managed to look like a Hollywood starlet with her blonde hair pulled tightly into a bun on top of her head and her face perfectly painted.
I glanced at the mirror placed in the far corner of the break room and compared my reflection to Chrissy. My dull brown hair falling out of the loosely tied bun I had carefully constructed that morning. No matter how hard I tried, I could never achieve the perfect hair that came so easily for my best friend. She was so lucky.
I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It read 5:23 p.m. “Time to get back to the grind,” I told her as I stood up and headed towards the door.
“Wait,” Chrissy objected as she stepped in front of the door, barricading my path. “You’ve been flaking on me since your grandma returned from the hospital, and I’m not taking no for an answer. You still owe me for helping you clean that god awful space you call a closet. Your birthday is on Saturday. Let’s go out and celebrate. We’ll get all dolled up and go dancing.”
Ray and I had birthdays that were one month apart. He had been held back in elementary school, making him a year older than myself.
“Sure,” I said, forcing a smile as I accepted Chrissy’s invitation.
Dressing up and dancing all night was the last thing in the world that I wanted to do. I’d rather cuddle up in bed and dream about Mr. Right, but I knew social protocol would be to accept her invitation and celebrate my nineteenth birthday as any teenager normally would.
I threw my phone back in my purse before I realized I had forgotten to check to see if Ray had called me.
For the first time in three years I’d completely forgotten about him. I retrieved my phone and swiped the screen. There was one text from Ray.
Thinking of you. Always.
I rolled my eyes and tossed the phone back in my purse. You’re gonna have to try harder than that, I thought as I swung my purse over my shoulder and headed back out to register eleven.
Chapter Five
You’re Not Sorry
This was not how I had envisioned my life after high school. I had so many dreams and aspirations as I began my journey into adulthood. I’d gladly given them all up to follow Ray and I knew I would have been happy doing so had I continued down that path with him.
Now as I sat in the old Stickley chair in Granny’s sterile room I began to feel resentment towards her. If only she hadn’t gotten sick. Why did she have to punish me so? She had lived a full and happy life, and just as it was my turn she’d somehow managed to prevent me from doing the same.
I’d just finished reading the remainder of Wuthering Heights to her and now, as I often did after finishing a classic romance novel, I sat in solitude with a bittersweet feeling as the characters in the book had completed their roles. They had bowed out mysteriously, leaving the reader to wonder about the next chapter in their lives. Today, this caused me to reflect on mine.
I always enjoyed escaping my realities by delving into a good book but I hated the overwhelming sadness that flooded me when I finished it. That feeling of being thrust back into the harsh reality of the real world reminded me my fictional hiding place had been laid bare.
I’d been out of school for ten months and here I was, still stuck in the town I despised taking care of my elderly grandmother. I had thought I would enroll at the community college as a part time student but between work and caring for Granny, there just wasn’t enough time. I could feel the life being sucked right out of me as each day passed in the same way as the last.
Today was my nineteenth birthday and I already felt like a middle-aged woman drowning in a sea of lost dreams.
It was in moments like these I often meditated on the idea that Ray was right—I should have stayed in L.A. with him. I didn’t see why Nouri couldn’t do this job on her own. After all, Dr. Kyle continued to tell me Granny doesn’t hear me, so what would have been the difference anyway? She would never know if I was here or there.
As I watched the rhythm of Granny’s chest slowly move up and down, it created a calming effect within me which allowed me to further reflect on the loving parent she had always been to me.
I remembered when I was five years old she had thrown me the most delectable tea party a little girl could ask for. The backyard was set up with fancy round tables draped with beautiful pink linens, joined with all of my closest friends and our favorite stuffed animals.
Granny had never let one day pass where she didn’t make me feel special. She was the best mother anyone could ask for and as I remembered her devotion to me I felt deeply ashamed for my earlier insensitivity. I realized I had to hold onto something that Granny always believed in.
Faith.
I had to have faith that she would wake up someday and smile at me. When she did, she would see I was right there with her. That I had never left her side.
And as usual, my mind drifted back to Ray.
So many nights, we had lain in bed together talking about the future. Our prospects had always sounded so promising. But it had always centered on Unspoken Words. All of our plans were built on this one dream. It was as if I were living in the shadows of his world. Never once did he wonder what would happen if my dream of becoming a track star would come true. Then when it did, it no longer mattered because his dream had also materialized and his was more important.
As I reflected on my feelings in the white room, I came to the conclusion that it was no one’s fault but my own that I had remained here. Similar to Catherine, the main character in the story I had just read, I had made the fateful decisions that had emotionally imprisoned me. I had chosen to place Ray’s dreams in front of my own and then I had added another layer when I had chosen to place Granny in front of Ray.
Things were slowly beginning to fall back into my sad song of Ray putting everyone else ahead of me. But to be fair, he was up to his ears in music. With the band’s song climbing higher and higher to the top of the charts, he and the bo
ys had gained more exposure than ever before and the label was taking full advantage of that. Every possession that was given to them earlier was now expected to be paid back tenfold. He had no time to be worried about the state of our relationship.
Every time I’d call he would be busy recording or in a meeting. It seemed like a decade had passed since the last time we had just sat and talked about nothing on the phone. Every conversation lately had been about his latest single that I couldn’t stand listening to because it drove me crazy. I hated the song now that the tabloids were dubbing it our pre-breakup song—obviously concluding I was not worth the wait.
I consoled myself by reasoning that the faster he did his work there, the sooner he could come home to me. Once he returned, his insipid lyrics would no longer matter. They were just a snapshot of a moment in time when he had decided to reflect on his feelings. They would mean nothing when he returned to my arms. The lease to that mansion was up in June and I anxiously waited for Ray to return.
My phone rang. His ears must have been burning with my thoughts of him because it was Ray. I stared at the caller I.D. as it continued to ring. I desperately wanted to give him a dose of his own medicine and forward his call to voicemail but I missed his carefree voice. Giving in, I answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey Sid, happy birthday,” he cooed
I smiled because he remembered and thanked him.
There was an awkward pause.
“How’s your granny?”
His sensitivity shocked me. Ray never cared to ask about my granny’s condition. In fact he resented the fact that she was still alive and breathing. I suddenly began to believe he really was trying to change. Maybe he hadn’t strayed so far from the man he used to be. Maybe there was still a chance to salvage our broken relationship. Maybe there was still hope for us.
“She’s the same. There hasn’t been much of a change with her,” I answered.
“I really wanted to make my way up there but you know how it’s been, crazy busy. We have a show to do at one of the local clubs in Hollywood tonight so there was just no way I could sneak away.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe I can use that credit card Rene gave me and fly you down here for the night.”
Between Dreams Page 5