by Marcy Blesy
“How’d you know?”
“I can read your face, Macy, and it’s got I’m having a low day written all over it. Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Want to call Dr. Rivers?” He’s the last person I want to talk to today. I don’t feel like a You’ve got to buck up, kid, kind of talk from my counselor. Can’t I have a pity party once in a while? Don’t I deserve it?
“No, I’m good.” She looks at me skeptically as she studies my face again. I plaster on my best trying-not-to-look-fake smile. It works because she smiles back.
“So, you ready for the big party on Saturday?” she asks.
“I guess I could stand to get a new dress.”
“Good. Let’s go shopping tomorrow. After classes? I’m done at the library at 4:00.” Mom started working a few months ago. Dad made enough money in his job as an engineer, and there was plenty of insurance money after Dad’s fall to last Mom for years, but she was getting antsy. Plus, she said that nothing starves depression like busy hands. I suppose I get my love of literature from her. Working as a clerk at the local library is a job tailor-made for her.
“That would be nice, Mom. Thanks for dinner.” I twirl a few more bites of spaghetti on my fork to appease her watchful eyes, down a glass of milk, and excuse myself to finish my paper.
Chapter 2:
Thoughts drift in and out as I sit in my World Religions class. I’ve always been a Christian, but exposing my uneducated mind to the tenants of the world’s greatest religions makes me think a lot about my own personal beliefs. If it weren’t for these beliefs, would I have been able to sleep at night? Or would I find a new way to torture myself? I mean, how could I not believe in heaven? To imagine no afterlife or eternity for my family is unacceptable.
“Did you get that?” I hear from next to me. Someone taps me on the wrist with the back of a pencil.
“Huh?” I turn to look at the guy sitting next to me. I don’t believe I’ve said more than a few words to anyone in this class all semester.
“Did you hear the professor? The unit test has been moved to Monday instead of Friday. You looked a little deep in thought.” He smiles, revealing the straightest teeth I’ve ever seen. They almost look too straight, if that’s possible, like they aren’t even real. “Football injury,” he says, tapping his mouth. “These are the best they could do at the time.”
“I am so…I am so sorry. I wasn’t looking…”
“You were, and it’s okay. Some guys get big bucks modeling toothpaste with whites this pearly and straight.” He thumps the back of the pencil again, this time on his teeth. I smile.
“You’re funny.”
“And you’re?”
“Uh?”
“Your name?”
“Oh, Mae or Macy,” I say. People are starting to put their books away. The girl on the other side of me bumps my head with her backpack when she gets up to leave.
“Not sure of your name?” He looks confused.
“No, I…some people call me Mae. Some call me Macy.”
“And what shall I call you then?” His smile really is captivating.
“Call me whatever,” I say.
“Okay, Whatever, I’m Matt.”
“Thanks for the test info, Matt, although I’d rather just get this test over with on Friday.”
“Big plans for the weekend?”
“Something like that,” I say.
“You don’t sound so excited. I am sure I could plan something much more enjoyable for you to do, if you’re willing to change your plans. What do you think, Whatever?” It’s been a long time since I’ve been asked out by some random boy, like forever, because Ty doesn’t even count. We were forced together by circumstances. I feel a twinge of guilt knowing that I’m smiling on the outside and the inside.
“Thanks,” I say instead, “but I can’t. I don’t think my boyfriend would be too happy.” I linger on the word boyfriend, trying to allay my guilt.
“I suppose you’re right. Going on a date with a toothpaste model would be a blow to anyone’s ego.”
“Thanks again,” I say. “See you on Friday.”
“It’s a date,” says Matt.
“No, it’s class, 9:00 in the morning. Bye.” I turn to leave, realizing for the first time that we are alone in the large auditorium. Even the professor has left. I try to tell myself I haven’t done anything wrong. All I did was have a conversation with a guy in my religion class. I decide to call Ty, but he doesn’t answer. He’s probably in his psychology class right now, so I text him instead.
Me: “Luv u. C u soon.” After a few seconds he texts back.
Ty: “Luv u more.” He said what I needed to hear, but where are the butterflies? Did they fly south for the winter? Because I miss them. I am determined to bring them back. Yes, this weekend. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll will those butterflies back, and it will start with finding the sexiest, classiest dress that I can find.
Mom is waiting for me at the Andersonville Mall after work.
“You look happy,” she says.
“I am,” I say.
“Excited to pick out a new dress?”
“Yes. I’m very excited about the party.”
“I like your improved attitude. You wear it well.” She tucks a large strand of my long hair behind my ear. “Now I can see that pretty face.”
“Thanks, Mom. Let’s do this.” We spend the next two hours going in and out of stores at the mall. The attire is supposed to be semiformal. That means a classy cocktail dress, if I were old enough to drink cocktails, but I’m only nineteen. Still, I understand the dress code. I want something short that will highlight my long legs and something brightly-colored that will make my long brown hair pop. I settle on a red strapless dress that lands slightly above the knee so as not to offend Ty’s mom, but sure enough to please Ty. I can feel the butterflies returning as I think about Ty’s reaction to seeing me in this dress. I hope we find some time to spend alone Saturday night.
“A sensible pair of black pumps?” asks Mom after we pay for my new dress.
“Really, Mom? Pumps?”
“Just testing you.” We visit a couple of more stores until I settle upon a two inch pair of black stiletto heels.
As I walk around my bedroom trying to break in my new shoes, my phone rings.
“Hey, Ty,” I say because no one else ever calls this late.
“Uh, no, it’s Matt.”
“Matt?”
“Come on, Whatever, have you forgotten me already?” I blush. I remember.
“How’d you get my number?”
“Dr. Parrett gave out a roster with everyone’s numbers at the beginning of the semester.”
“Yeah, for studying purposes,” I say.
“Right. I was wondering if you’d like to get together Sunday night and study for the religion exam on Monday.”
“I don’t know if…” My phone beeps. Ty is on the other line. “I don’t know when I’ll be home.”
“That’s okay. How about you give me a call?” Matt says. “I have an emergency teeth whitening appointment during class on Friday, so I won’t be there.”
“Uh, umm, okay.”
“It’s a joke. I won’t be in class, though, so can you bring me any notes I may miss?”
Sure,” I say before I have a chance to stop my mouth from moving. “I’ll call you when I get back.”
“Whatever.”
“Yes?” I ask.
“Huh?” he says.
“You…you said my name. I mean, what you’ve been calling—oh, never mind. I have another call. See you around.”
“Hey baby,” I say, clicking over to Ty. He is waiting. Always waiting on me. I have to try harder. I will try harder.
Chapter 3:
It’s Saturday, and I’m finally on my way to Ty’s house. I wanted to leave an hour ago, but Mom needed to go over things first, as she likes to say. You’d think she’s forgotten that I had lived on my own for ne
arly a year. I suppose that’s why she is the way she is, making up for lost time. She also forgets that I’m nineteen now. When I pointed this fact out to her, she simply said, “When you’re living under my roof, young lady, you follow my rules.”
I really can’t blame her. I haven’t made the best choices in life, but I’m not stupid. I’ll mind my manners. I’ll be a gracious party goer, representing Ty’s family alongside Mrs. Barber.
I’m dressing to impress today, too, and not just for tonight. I’ve abandoned my usual hoodie and jeans in place of a long blue sweater over a black pair of leggings with knee high black boots. I wear my hair down because that’s what Ty likes. It’s all about Ty today. I’ve been way too needy the last few months. One of our recent conversations from the last time I was at Ty’s keeps replaying itself in my head,
Ty: “Mae, you’ve got to stop living your life as a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
Me: “What’s that mean?”
Ty: “You keep thinking this relationship is going to screw up, so you live it out to prove yourself right.”
Me: “I do not!”
Ty: “You have unrealistic expectations that I call you every night before bed. If I don’t, you think something’s wrong.”
Me: “Hmph!”
Ty: “So when I didn’t call a couple of nights ago, you freaked out and sent me a barrage of texts. My roommate was ready to throw my phone out the window.”
Me: “But something could have been wrong.”
Ty: “Nothing was wrong. A few of us were jamming on our guitars. That’s all. Nothing more to it.”
Me: “That’s a lame example.”
Ty: “Okay. Here’s another. I didn’t hold your hand the last time we went to the mall. We got into a fight because you were sure I was going to break up with you.”
Me: “You were also really quiet that day, Ty.”
Ty: “I had just started antibiotics for strep throat when you insisted we go shopping for some book you wanted. I felt like hell, Mae. You knew that.”
And so I’d left his house a couple of hours earlier than I’d planned. I had the whole ride home to think about what he’d said, and, honestly, to worry that he was going to break up with me after our fight. Our conversations have been strained ever since but not this weekend. I’m going to make it up to him, no more self-fulfilling prophecy.
I pull into Ty’s large driveway as the overhanging one hundred-year-old trees welcome me back. The first time I saw Ty’s home, I was sure I was right, pegging him for a spoiled rich kid who overindulged in his own desires. But I was wrong, as I have been about so many things. Ty watched his mom kill his dad in a violent act of self-defense after years of abuse. The Barbers saved his life. He never lived like he took that for granted. I wonder if my people judgment meter is off because I always seem to get it wrong: from Kyle to Ty to my part in the deaths of my family members.
Ty is standing on the front steps wearing an orange Under Armour hoodie. His disheveled blond hair is peeking through the sides. He looks so cute and sexy at the same time.
“Hey, stranger. About time you got here,” he says.
“I know. Sorry.”
“Lectures from Mom?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Well, I don’t think your track record for leaving gives her a lot of confidence.”
“Hey!” I don’t know if he’s trying to be funny, but I am finding a hard time laughing.
“I’m glad you’re here.” He holds out a white Styrofoam cup in my direction.
“What’s that for?”
“It’s a surprise.” I reach out and take the cup from his hands. It’s warm and savory smelling. Hot chocolate. My favorite.
“Extra marshmallows?” I ask.
“Undoubtedly. Come on.” Ty grabs my free hand and leads me down the path in the woods that is lined by trees next to his home. I know where we’re going, to the dock by the lake where we had our magical prom dinner that seems like forever ago.
Ty has lined the dock with the largest pile of blankets that I’ve ever seen.
“A little cold?” I ask.
“Well, it’s not your typical November day. Feels more like January, don’t you think?”
“Not when I’m with you. You make me warm and cozy.” Ty takes my hot chocolate and sets it on the ground. He pulls me in for an embrace so close I can feel the rhythm of his heart. We don’t move until my heart beats in tandem with his. I let out a sigh.
“I’ve missed you so much, Mae.” He tips up my chin and looks into my eyes. We kiss, gentle and soft. No rushing. I close my eyes to take a mental snapshot of this magical moment. He pulls me down to the pile of blankets where I lie with my back against his chest. There, in the middle of the day on a Saturday in November, I spoon with the most loving, sweetest man in the world. And he’s mine. I turn to face him, and he goes in for another kiss, this one more eager.
“Wait.” I put a finger to his lips. “I…I’m sorry.” He doesn’t say anything. “I know I have issues. I’ll try harder. You have to believe me.”
“Just believe in yourself, okay?” I shake my head yes.
“Why all of this?” I ask, gesturing to the hot chocolate and nest of blankets. I know we have work to do before the party.
“Because it’s going to get busy and crazy today. I wanted you to know that I haven’t forgotten what is most important to me, that you’re here.”
“I love you, Ty.”
“I love you, too.” We kiss again, separating only when we have no more breath.
Chapter 4:
“There you are kids. Nice to see you,” says Mrs. Barber, giving me a hug. “I need you to drive over to The Woodson Center and check that the table settings are complete. Here is a map of what it’s supposed to look like.” She thrusts a map into my hands. There are roughly 50 tables pictured with obnoxious fake flower decorations in the tables’ centers that will block the view from the people across the table as well as table settings for ten at each table complete with separate forks for salad, dessert, and dinner.
“I thought the attire was semi-formal, Mrs. Barber. Looking at this map, I’m starting to wonder if I’ll be underdressed.”
“Oh, no, no. Semi-formal is exactly what I want. Are you saying I’ve gone overboard with the table settings? Oh, dear. That’s what my husband said, too.” She starts fanning herself with her hand.
“No, Mom. It’s perfect and beautiful. It’s going to be a great night. No worries. Mae and I will take care of everything.” He kisses her on the head. She sighs.
“That was cool of you,” I say when we’re in Ty’s car. “Sorry I frazzled her.”
“She’s really acting weird. I mean, she’s planned a hundred fundraising events, but this one’s different.”
“Because Patsy will be there?” I ask.
“I guess that’s why.”
“Are you sure she’s up for being introduced to all of your parent’s rich friends? It’s got to be intimidating.”
“I have no idea. She’s been acting weird, too, though I’ve only seen her a couple of times since classes started. She wants us to come by and see her new apartment.”
“You didn’t tell me she had left the halfway house!”
“A couple of weeks ago. Dad co-signed on the lease. Remember the Infusco Coffee Shop? She’s waitressing there in the evenings.”
“That’s awesome. How do you feel about both of your moms being together tonight?”
“It’s a little strange, if truth be told, but it’s for a good cause. Though I never thought of what I grew up with when I was little as being domestic violence, I saw and remembered far more than any kid should have to.” I squeeze Ty’s hand. It’s so good to be with him again.
The Woodson Center is aflutter with activity. There are men and women in black tuxedo jackets and white gloves running around pushing in chairs, tidying plates, and the like. I really think Mrs. Barber’s call for semi-formal as opposed to formal is sorely misgu
ided. Ty and I take the map with us as we inspect the tables. Not a thing seems to have been missed. The small Chinese take-out style candy boxes wrapped with robin egg blue ribbons sit on a table next to the front door opposite the table with the place cards. There is an area set up for a string quartet as well as a large dance floor complete with a shimmering disco ball. I suppose there will be a DJ later in the evening. No need for techno lights with a string quartet.
“Hi, Ty.” I turn around to see a young woman with long blonde hair gathered up in a high ponytail. Despite the black tuxedo jacket and starched white shirt, I can tell she has a great body under her uniform.
“Hey, Jess!” The girl reaches out for a hug which Ty obliges. I can feel the temperature inside my body rising. I take a deep breath.
“How are you? Man, how long has it been? Three years?” she asks.
“Something like that. You left after our sophomore year, if I recall.”
“Yeah, about that…sorry.” She smiles with one corner of her mouth slightly-turned up in a way that can only be described as cute.
“That was a long time ago. No hard feelings, Jess.” I cough as if I have a tickle in my throat, which I don’t. They both look at me like I’ve just appeared, beamed in, perhaps, from a faraway planet. “Oh, sorry. This is my girlfriend, Macy, or Mae, as I call her.” He winks at me. I stick my hand out, part of my being good strategy.
“Hi,” we both say at the same time.
“Jess used to go to Woodson but moved…”
“After sophomore year,” I fill in.
“Yes,” he says. “What brings you back?” He directs the question at Jess.
“I am going to study fashion design at The Illinois Institute of Art in Chicago next semester. I need to save as much money as I can. Rent is a beast in the city. My aunt and uncle are letting me stay with them here in Woodson and work the events and babysit for their kids as needed. I’m saving up a nice bit.”
“Cool,” says Ty. I nod my head like I’m interested.
“Jess!”
“Oh, shoot, that’s my aunt. I’d better get back to work. It was really nice seeing you, Ty. You look great, as usual.”