Ugly

by Margaret McHeyzer

  Liam stands and comes around to hug me. He kisses my head, and says, “Have a good night tonight. I’ll drop you off and pick you up.”

  “No, you stay with Shayne, I’m going to get a cab.”

  “Okay. Hey, before I forget, have fun at your driving lesson, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just remember your keys, and let me know you’re leaving for your non-date, date with Max.”

  “I will.”

  I go back to my room and get ready for my first ever driving lesson.

  “So, I hear you’re going out for a non-date date with Max,” Shayne says as she sits on the bed and watches me go through my limited closet trying to find something to wear.

  “I am. And I’m going to tell him I only have room in my life for a friend.”

  “If he’s a good man, and from what you tell me, he is, then he’ll be more than happy with that. I mean, why would he have sat with you in the hospital if he didn’t have respect for you?”

  I shrug my shoulders and keep looking at my lack of clothes. “What am I going to wear?” I ask aloud, but don’t really expect an answer.

  “Oh, hang on, get your black pants, I have a really pretty sweater that’ll go really nicely. And you can borrow my black boots.”

  “Your black boots? They have a heel. I can’t walk in those crazy high heeled boots.”

  “Hang on.” She gets up and dashes out of the room, then is back in a few moments with a gorgeous red sweater hooked over her elbow, and a pair of boots with a very low heel. “Here, try these on. But now I’m thinking about it, you can’t wear those black pants, they won’t go.” She hands me the sweater and the boots and she darts out of the room again. “Here.” She lays a pair of black, skinny leg jeans on the bed. “They’ll go better and you’ll look hot.”

  “I can’t look hot, this isn’t a date. This is just two friends going out for dinner.”

  “You’ll look hot for yourself, not Max. Whatever you do, you should do it for yourself. And if other people want to be around you, they should feel privileged you allow them. You’re a good person, Lily, don’t ever forget that heart of gold you have. But you need to make sure you’re happy before you even think of trying to make anyone else happy.”

  “Thank you,” I say, averting my eyes, not really ready to accept what she’s saying. “I’ve made an appointment with a psychologist,” I spring on Shayne.

  “You have? I’m so happy, Lily. My God, that’s a huge step. I’m so proud of you.” She hugs me as I keep my eyes down looking at the clothes on my bed. “God, I’m just…” she shakes her head, but has a giant smile on her face. “I’m really proud of you.”

  “Thank you. Now, get out so I can get changed.” I can’t deal with any more emotions tonight. I’ll end up bawling my eyes out, and I don’t want those kinds of feelings. I just want happiness.

  Shayne leaves and I get changed. I call her back in so she can tell me how I look. “You look good, girl. Can I do your make-up?”

  “Make-up?”

  “Yeah, make-up. And I can style your hair, just something different.”

  “I don’t know.” I’m beginning to feel like I’m Shayne’s doll. “Maybe, just do my hair. Don’t worry about make-up.”

  Thankfully she claps her hands together and runs out of the room, only to come in with what she tells me is a hair straightener. I give her with a quizzical look, because my hair is already straight. “I’ll just put a small curl on the ends. It’ll look great.”

  “Okay,” I say as I sit on the bed and she plugs it in and turns it on.

  When Shayne finishes, there are light curls on the bottom of my mid-back-length hair, and it looks really good. I call a cab and they say they’ll be about fifteen minutes. Finishing getting ready, I take my borrowed coat, and walk out to the family room, where Shayne has joined Liam as they watch TV. “Have a good time, and your curfew is midnight,” Liam says, pretending to be my father.

  “See you tomorrow morning.” I give them both a kiss, and then I hear the beep of a horn. I check and see the yellow cab waiting in the driveway.

  I go out, get in the cab, and nervously fidget until we pull up in front of the restaurant.

  Max is outside the restaurant looking up and down the street. When the cab stops at the curb, Max dashes to the car, and opens the door for me. Before I have a moment to pay the driver, Max has already thrown twenty dollars at him, asked if it was enough then closed the door when the driver said he had to give him change. “Keep it,” Max half yelled in perfect speech. “You l-look b-b-b,” he pauses as he takes a breath to obviously calm down. “Beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Max. You’re looking very handsome as well.”

  “Are you h-hungry? B-because I’d l-like to go s-somewhere f-first. A-and our reservation is at eight-th-thirty.”

  Red flags fly up, and I take a step back away from Max. “Um.”

  “I-it’s okay, we can s-sit at the b-bar and just ch-chat.” But he looks really hurt by my reaction.

  “What else do you have in mind?”

  “J-just down the r-ro-road there’s somewhere I want to take y-you. But I understand if you d-don’t want to.”

  I weigh up everything I know of Max, and nothing screams ’run’. These are just my natural reactions because of what I’ve lived through in my past. “It’s okay, we can go.”

  “Excellent.” We begin to walk, and the weather is absolutely freezing. I feel like a snowman as we slowly walk in the direction Max is leading us. My hands have gloves, and are in the pockets of my/Shayne’s coat. I have a beanie and a scarf, and I can still feel the cold penetrating through all the layers. It’s early December, and snow will start falling soon. We’ve had a couple of days where we’ve had very light dusting, but it’ll only be a matter of time before the sidewalks are icy and there are snow banks outside.

  The conversation is light and easy, and I tell Max how I’m now the proud owner of a brand new Ford Taurus and that I’ve started driving lessons. Max congratulates me and tells me when I get my license, he expects to be chauffeured around like a prince in a motorcade.

  We stop walking when we get to a park that has been flooded and frozen over and converted into an outdoor ice skating rink. “We’re here,” he eagerly says as he points to the ice.

  “Ice skating?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ve never ice skated in my life. I don’t want to do it.”

  “You have to. It’s a rite of passage for every American.” I stare are him. He didn’t stutter once.

  “It is, is it?”

  “Yup,” he confirms. “Come on. I’ll t-teach you. I won’t l-let you fall.” He grabs my hand, and pulls me behind him as he goes to the man in the booth at the edge of the rink and pays for us to rent skates. We both tell him our shoe sizes and the guy gives us skates. Max leads us over to where we can sit and put them on.

  I put on mine, and can barely stand as I slowly walk behind Max to the rink.

  “It’s really f-fun. Here, let me sh-show you.” He demonstrates how to stand and skate, pushing one leg back while finding balance on the other leg.

  “Looks really easy,” I tease as he skates back from the opposite side of the makeshift rink. It’s quite busy, with people skating around as if they’re professional skaters. By that I mean, no one is falling on their butt making a fool out of themselves. “Yeah, really easy,” I mumble to myself.

  “Come on. I’ll hold your hand so you don’t f-fall.” He extends his hand to me, and I look down at it, contemplating taking it.

  I decide I can’t just hold onto the side of the rink for the next hour or so, I have to try and do this. Finally, I take his hand, and Max wraps his arm around my waist, trying to keep me in an upright position. He’s not succeeding. I keep tripping over my feet, trying to walk as opposed to skate. “You’ll get the hang of it. Like this.” He tries to show me, while still keeping hold of me.

  I begin to laugh, because I must look
like the funniest sight to any poor bystander watching me. My left leg goes one way, my right leg another, and I end up crashing into Max. He’s laughing but he catches me, and doesn’t let me fall to the ice.

  “Like this,” he says again, trying to show me for the umpteenth time how to skate. I pick it up and we start to skate around the rink. Okay, I may be stretching the truth a little when I say I pick it up. More like I manage not to fall over.

  “This is good fun,” I say as I kick off from Max. He lets me go and I manage to skate more than three feet without falling over.

  “It is, when you just let go and go for it.” I look back at him, and manage to trip over my own feet. This time my feet go in opposing directions again, and I end up sliding on my butt.

  I’m in hysterics, because I haven’t had this much fun in I don’t know how long. I’m laughing so much, I have happy tears streaking my cheeks.

  Max skates over to me, and kneels. “Oh my God. Are you h-hurt?”

  I shake my head, and try to stand. My feet don’t cooperate and they slide everywhere. I’m laughing so much I can’t even manage to stand. Max helps me up, and in my clumsiness, I entwine our legs and take his out from under him. I end up on my butt, laughing so hard I can’t control myself, and Max ends up sitting on my lap. He’s horrified and trying to move, but the ice is making it impossible. “I’m no good at this,” I manage to say between gales of laughter.

  “No, you’re not,” he confirms. Max finally gets off me, and offers me his hand. “Here, let me h-help you.”

  I grab onto it, and finally pull myself up, with Max’s assistance, and we head toward the bench where our shoes are.

  As I sit and take off my skates, I start laughing again. “I’m not cut out for ice skating. I have no coordination on the ice.”

  “Hmmm,” Max mumbles. “You really do s-suck.” He looks at me sideways as he’s nodding his head.

  That’s all it takes to set me off again. We walk over to the guy and hand in our skates, and we start walking back to the restaurant. “Thank you, Max. Although I’m terrible, that really was so much fun.”

  “You’ll g-get b-better.”

  “I’m not doing that again. I think I was lucky I didn’t lose a finger. So I’ll quit while I’m ahead.”

  “I’ll wait for summer and take you roller-skating.”

  I smile at his words. Just the fact he’s planning on sticking around, makes me smile. But it makes me sad, too. “Max,” I say in a small voice. God, I don’t want to lead him on, so I have to be as up front as possible with him.

  “Yeah?”

  I stop walking under a street light, about a block from the restaurant, and turn to face him. “I can’t be with you.”

  Max tilts his head to the side, in question. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not ready to be in a relationship, and I’m too broken to be able to give any part of me to you. I wouldn’t be able to give you what you need. It’s not fair to you, if you think this,” I point to me, then him, “will go anywhere. I’m not like other girls. I’ll never work right. I have too many issues to deal with, and I don’t want you to hang around in hope that one day, I’ll be okay for you. Because, I don’t ever think I’ll be normal.”

  “You’ve made this decision?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re telling me to leave. To abandon you, just like every other male has.”

  “They never abandoned me.”

  “No?” he asks. “They mentally abandoned you and physically abused you. But I’m not them. Please don’t make a decision for me. Let me decide what I want.” His words have not faltered. Or maybe they have and I just can’t hear the stutter anymore. “I have to be worthy of you, Lily, not the other way around.”

  He has to be worthy of me?

  A chill shoots up my back. Not because I’m cold, but because I’m being told, I’m so much more than just an ugly, stupid, broken girl. “Okay,” I say, not sure what I’m agreeing to.

  “Now, can we go eat?”

  “Shayne and Liam want to meet you,” I blurt out, like verbal diarrhea. “They want to meet my friends. They’re my family.”

  He smiles at me and tucks his hands inside his coat pockets. “I want to meet them.”

  And just like that, I accept Max as a friend. He’s a good guy, and I need a good guy in my life.

  I had dinner with Max a week ago, and we’ve had several dinners together since. Christmas is nearly here, and after my driving lesson, I need to go Christmas shopping to buy presents for everyone who’s important to me.

  It’s Thursday morning, and I’ve just gotten into work. It’s been so busy, just like every other December leading up to Christmas. As I sit at my desk, I open up my to-do list for the day when my cell phone starts ringing. I dig it out of my bag, and see Shayne’s smiling face looking up at me. “You just dropped me off, why are you calling me? Is everything okay?”

  “Michaela just called me, and asked me to get you to call her.”

  “Oh, okay, thanks. I’ll do it in a few when I get myself organized.”

  “Okay, now, you sure you don’t need a ride to the mall?”

  “No, I’ll cab it. Thanks though.”

  “Catch ya, girl.”

  I put my phone down, and look at the schedule. Peter’s not in yet, but that’s because he’s spending the morning doing Christmas shopping for his family. He’s a man who has integrity and dignity. When I walked into his office to thank him for everything, including financing my car, he simply nodded and said, “Just keep working hard for us, Lily.” He’s a man of few words, but he’s also a man who, when he speaks, everyone stops to listen. He runs his stores with precision and good management techniques. There’s nothing happening he doesn’t know about, right down to the floor. And when he walks through the store, all the staff members tremble with fear, but they all respect him.

  I run the first lot of reports I need to run, and while they’re printing, I call Michaela.

  “Hello?” she answers.

  “Michaela, it’s Lily. Shayne said you needed to talk to me.”

  “Oh my God. I just wanted to tell you a few things. First, I made all the changes you suggested, and you’re right with everything you said. The other thing is, it went live this morning,” she almost shouts and squeals at the same time.

  “Congratulations, I hope it does well for you.”

  “I have to tell you, review copies went out, and reviews have already started filtering through. Love Is Perfection is getting stellar feedback. Thank you for everything, Lily. Your comments made my book so much better.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And, I’ve made some friends in this process, and one of them is looking for a proofreader, can I give you her details and maybe you can contact her through social media, and talk to her about it. I told her what a great job you did on my book, and she’s really interested in talking to you.”

  “That’s great, thank you.”

  “She asked me what you charge, and I told her you’d give her a price. Her book is romance too, but I think it’s longer than mine.”

  “Your book was so much more than romance. And you deserve all the success it brings you.”

  “I’ll be happy if I sell ten copies to anyone outside my family.” She laughs at her own silliness and I can’t help but smile.

  “I’m positive it’ll do well. Keep me updated on the success of it.”

  “I will, I’ll email you or I’ll…” she pauses, and I’m sure she wants me to give her my number. But I won’t.

  “Email will be perfect. Just give me your email address and I’ll send you one so you have my address.” I want to create a new one with the name Lily Richards, instead of Lily Anderson. Although I’m not divorced yet, there’s no reason to continue using Trent’s surname.

  “Okay. And thank you again, Lily.” She rattles off her email and I jot it down. We say our goodbyes and I continue with my work. When I have a f
ew moments to spare, I create a new email address and shoot a quick note off to Michaela. She responds with a smiley face, so I know she has my email address.

  It’s just before lunch and Peter walks in clutching several bags from different stores.

  “Did you have a productive time?” I ask as he walks past my desk.

  “Why do people leave their Christmas shopping to the last minute? It makes it difficult for us to go do Christmas shopping at the last minute,” he grumbles as he walks into his office.

  “Would a coffee help?” I ask as I stand and follow him into his office. “And wouldn’t that mean you should’ve done your Christmas shopping along with all those people you’re complaining about?”

  “Stop using woman logic on me. My wife tries that. My daughters try that, hell, even my granddaughters have started. I don’t need it here, too.” His lips turn up in a smile, and I know he’s just joking. “How are the driving lessons going?”

  “Good, I have another one when I finish here. It’s my third one. I may try and go for my license in early January.”

  “You can do it, Lily. Have faith in yourself.” The words jolt me, as if he’s referring to more than just my driving. “Now, I’ll have that coffee.” Peter is a man’s man. He’s direct when he speaks, and incredibly fair. But he doesn’t often use words like ‘please’ or ‘thank you.’ That’s okay, because it’s just him being direct and getting to the point. Even though I’ve only held this role for a couple of weeks, Peter’s strong reputation filters down to the floor. Before my time up here, I was one of those staff who was intimidated by him. Now I know he just demands excellence, and rewards it when he finds it.

  “I’ll get it for you.” I go downstairs and buy a packet of cookies, Peter’s favorite ones, and go back up to the staff room to make him a coffee, while putting two cookies on a small plate and taking it in to him. “Here you go.” I place the coffee and cookies down on his desk.

  “I only get two today? Have I angered you? Or are you waiting for me to give you your Christmas bonus?” he jokes.

  “Please, Peter I don’t need a bonus, so I really hope you’re joking. And no, you only get two because on Monday you came in saying your wife called you ‘cuddly’ and I think I may have been adding to you becoming ‘cuddly’ by giving you cookies.”