Mayson's ring called to me from the top drawer of my dresser. I couldn't bring myself to open the box, afraid I would fall apart completely, but the thought of parting with it was equally painful. Morgan didn't know about the ring. In fact, no one knew it was in my possession apart from Cece.
Morgan continued to speak into my machine. "It's been weeks now. I'm going to use my spare key and drag you out of bed. I mean it! Pick up the phone!" Slowly, I pulled myself out from under my cotton comforter and walked to my phone.
"Hi, Morgan." Simply uttering these words took a massive amount of effort and restraint. Lately, whenever I spoke outside of school, my voice quivered and cracked, and I felt helpless to stop the tears that inevitably poured from my eyes.
"Thank God. I was about to come over there this time. I mean it."
"That's what you said last weekend. You know I'm fine. I just want to be alone."
"Nope, I'm not accepting that answer today, Daph. I'm dragging you out of your apartment whether you like it or not. Get dressed. I'll be right over."
Five minutes later, Morgan was knocking at the back door. I somehow mustered up the will to answer, knowing her face would show pity and concern, two emotions I was avoiding like the plague. I hated when people felt sorry for me. I hated feeling helpless. It was almost as awful as feeling heartbroken... almost.
Luckily, when I opened the door, her face showed none of these emotions. Rather, her beautiful blond hair was pinned up in a ponytail, a powder blue scarf that matched her eyes was wrapped around her neck, and she was smiling from ear to ear. I was instantly annoyed at her chipper demeanor, yet relieved at the lack of worry on her face. The first thing she did was stroll over to my CD player, removing my Andrew Belle disc. I'd had the song "In My Veins" on repeat ever since I left Denver. Cringing, I watched as Morgan lifted the disc out gingerly and placed it in its plastic case. The lyrics echoed in my mind even after silence filled the air.
"I need that," I muttered. "It's the only way I feel connected to him." Morgan ignored me completely.
"Oh good, you're already dressed. I can see you haven't showered, though."
"You didn't say that I had to bathe. From now on if you're going to order me around, you'll need to be more specific." I watched her place the CD in her purse. "You know I can just burn another mix off iTunes," I hissed.
"I'm going to ignore that remark since you're my cousin and I love you. But, Daph, enough is enough. It's been two months since the funeral. That song pulls you right back within yourself, right back into the pain and I won't let you get pulled in anymore. I'm doing this for you. Do not burn another copy of that song. I mean it."
"I still need to feel connected to him somehow. He's gone and I know that, but I'm left thinking about Brynn and about his family, especially Cece. We left things so badly--"
"Daph, she must've known that seeing the engagement ring would hurt you."
I drew in a tight breath hearing Morgan mention the ring. She knew it existed, and that I'd seen it. She didn't, however, know that I brought it home with me. Or that it was only a few feet from where she stood.
"It was really selfish, if you ask me," she said.
"Selfish?" How could Cece have been acting selfish? The thought had never occurred to me.
"Yeah. I've given this a lot of thought. Cece wanted to tell you about the ring because it would give her peace, her closure. She wasn't thinking about you at all."
"Then why drag me into it?"
"She wanted to make sense of everything, you know? She wanted to think there was a reason for all the shitty things he did. She told you he was behaving differently while seeing you, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, as a mom, she probably wanted to envision him proposing to you, marrying you, living happily ever after with the woman she connected with in the hospital. She didn't want to believe that he was seeing another woman only to propose to Brynn, someone she never liked in the first place."
"So, she wanted to justify his behavior?"
"Yes. She wanted to see him as a man who would risk everything for the right person. She was able to forgive him cheating on Brynn. It sounds as if she couldn't bear to have him cheat on you. In her eyes, you were the one for him."
Slowly, Morgan's words settled into my brain. Deep down, I knew she was right. But I couldn't blame Cece. She was a victim in all of this, losing her son and not knowing what his true intentions were. Part of her must be ashamed of his behavior, but the other part was hopeful; I must've represented the hope she'd felt. She'd hoped that Mayson could be the man she had envisioned. My eyes began to burn, and deep, guttural sobs escaped my lips. Morgan quickly wrapped her arm around me and held me tight as I wept uncontrollably onto her shoulder.
For eight long, excruciating weeks I'd been swirling in doubt and confusion. I would never know if Cece was right about Mayson's intentions towards me or to Brynn. I would never know whose ring sat inside my dresser. The conversation in the cafe had haunted me as I'd desperately clung to Cece's words, hoping she was right. But those words had also caused me to retreat like a reclusive hermit, wishing I could turn back the clock and prevent the accident that stole my love.
"Talk to me, Daphne, please. You're scaring me."
"No, you're right," I said between sobs. "For weeks now, I've been...laying here...daydreaming about Mayson, imagining he was still here. I've been playing scenarios in my head."
"Like what?" she asked as she handed me a tissue.
"Like, how would he have proposed? Would we have had a long engagement? Would he have taken me to France for our honeymoon? Would we have started a family? How would that ring look on my finger?"
"Oh, Daph." Morgan's eyes moistened as she stared at me with the look I've dreaded for weeks, the look of pity.
"Stop looking at me like that, please. You don't get it. What you just said is what I needed to hear. I need to move on. Just because Cece thinks the ring was for me doesn't mean that it was. I understand that now. I need to get past this. I need to say goodbye to him...for real this time."
"Wow." Morgan said. "I'm stunned.
"Thanks. I hope I can stay true to what I just said. Moving on is going to be really hard."
"I know, but you have me and you have Elise. I know I'm not as gentle as she is, but I do my best."
"True, you are more about the tough love."
"I prefer good cop, bad cop."
"Was that the strategy you two worked out?" I asked with a laugh.
"No, just a lucky coincidence. But, we'll help you through this, I promise. The man of your dreams, the love of your life, he's still out there. I know it."
"God, I hope you're right." I laughed, feeling hopeful for the very first time. "I'm going to take a shower and then we can get the hell out of here. I need some fresh air."
"Thank goodness. I'll clean this place up while you get ready. It's a pit." She looked disgusted as she gestured to my living room. Piles of laundry sat on the floor...folded, but never put away. Diet Coke cans lingered on my coffee table.
"Thanks." I smiled, my first one in months. "I'm so lucky to have you."
Morgan's crystal eyes sparkled as she began picked up Diet Coke cans from my coffee table. "Whatever, get in the shower."
"Morgan!"
"You know I don't like getting all emotional."
"Fine. I'll be ready in ten."
"Good. Let's go shopping."
"Sounds good. I have a paycheck waiting to be burned. I've hardly spent money in months. Oh, and Morgan?"
"Yeah?"
"You can keep the CD." I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. Morgan looked shocked before I turned quickly towards the bathroom. Little did she know that although the music would be gone, the ring would still be here, calling to me from my dresser drawer. One thing at a time.
#
Chapter 20
Dating
It was a rainy Sunday afternoon and I was spending way too much time on the internet, checking my
email and Facebook page. On a whim, I logged into my dating profile on the site Morgan set up for me ages ago.
Shocked, I stared at the welcome page with my mouth agape. Twenty two date requests were waiting for me, many dating back to last summer when I was completely wrapped up in Mayson. Curious, I began to sift through the requests. Surprisingly, many of them were handsome and seemed to have steady careers. Clicking on the latest date request, sent just this weekend, I was surprised to find an unbelievably gorgeous face staring back at me.
Name: Brock Gallino
Age: 30
Body Type: Athletic
Career: Lawyer
Relationship Status: Never Married
Seeking: A relationship
Intrigued, I read further about Mr. Gallino. Brock loved his career as a lawyer, but was even more passionate about his favorite sport, hockey. He was a devoted Chicago Blackhawks fan and had season tickets to the games. He seemed to be a true "guy's guy" with spiky hair, a deep tan, and tattoos on his forearms. In his message, he told me that I was cute and that he loved my red hair and blue eye combo. He wanted to get together for a drink or perhaps dinner if I was interested.
My curiosity, combined with a smidge of loneliness, motivated me to hit reply and accept Brock's invitation for a date. It was time for Daphne to move on and this would have to be the first step. Brock seemed attractive, successful, and interesting. Maybe this could be a great way to get my feet wet in the dating pool.
The following weekend, I met Brock for dinner at a French Bistro he suggested. Not usually my type of cuisine but willing to try something new, I agreed to dinner and drinks. I recognized Brock as I walked in the front door of the restaurant. He walked over to greet me and I was immediately consumed by the scent of his musky cologne. Brock was dressed in a button down linen shirt and khaki pants, and he was as good looking in person as his profile suggested. He kissed me on the cheek and smiled widely. "It's so great to meet you in person. You look beautiful."
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as we made our way to the table. I was definitely attracted to this guy but needed to see if his personality matched his physique.
The conversation was a bit awkward. He talked about himself...a lot. I spent most of the meal listening. It was a little troubling to find that even by the time we'd finished our meal and were sharing a piece of chocolate cake, he had only asked me one question about myself. But, if I had to, I could probably have written an entire essay about him. I learned about his childhood, his career at his law firm, where he got each of his tattoos and why, his apartment downtown, etc., etc., etc. His one and only question to me was, "So, Daphne, do you like French food?"
Mayson was always a little self-absorbed. But, this was on an entirely different level. Uncomfortably, I glanced around the restaurant with a sigh. Wondering if I swapped places with another redhead if he'd even notice. He knew nothing about me and didn't seem to want to learn.
Just as I was ready to thank him for the date and retreat to the comfort of my corduroy sofa, our waiter delivered the bill to the table. Out of habit, I offered to help pay for the bill. I'd been doing this for years, dating back to high school when boys struggled to afford dinners out with their girlfriends. No one had ever let me pay on a first date, ever. But I guess there was a first time for everything.
"Yeah, that sounds great," he said. "Your share will be thirty-seven fifty."
Seriously? He already divided it in his head? Who was this guy? This wealthy lawyer who suggested the French restaurant was letting his date pay for exactly half of the bill? Thank goodness I'd already placed cash in my wallet, just in case. Begrudgingly, I dropped thirty-eight dollars on the table, testing to see if he would give me fifty cents in return. He didn't. That confirmed it. Brock was a cheap-ass.
After paying our bill, we walked out to our respective vehicles. As I was unlocking my car, Brock said, "The night's still young, ya know."
Taken aback, I responded, "What exactly did you have in mind?"
"Wanna come back to my place?" he asked with a sexy grin that I imagine had worked well for him in the past. I did my best to hide my disgust at his proposition.
"I'm thinking I should call it a night, Brock. I have a busy day tomorrow."
Brock looked disappointed but didn't ask to see me again. His intentions for the evening had become transparent and I couldn't get into my car fast enough. Morgan called me within minutes of my drive home.
"Seriously?" she asked incredulously. "The dude is a lawyer and he didn't pay for dinner? He asked you out and he chose the place. What a cheap-ass!"
"Those were my thoughts exactly. But that's not the worst part."
"Oh Lord. Tell me."
"He had absolutely no interest in getting to know me, but had every intention of getting into my pants."
"Asshole."
"Seriously, is this what it's going to be like? Going dutch for dinner followed by one night stands with douche bag guys who don't even try to sound at all interested in me?"
"No, I promise. It was just one date with one guy. Don't give up yet. You said you had plenty of other date requests."
"Yeah, okay," I agreed. "But you need to pick the next one. I chose Brock and look how that turned out."
"All right, I remember your password. I'll choose the next guy. No lawyers this time."
"Maybe someone who teaches? I don't think we had anything in common. I was too distracted by his pretty face. I need you to be impartial for me. Obviously, I'm not good at this."
"I'm on it."
By the time I arrived home, there was an email from Morgan telling me the name of my next date.
That was fast.
Name: Joshua Moore
Age: 35
Body Type: Athletic
Career: Teacher
Relationship Status: Never Married
Seeking: A relationship
In his profile picture, the blond-haired, blue-eyed Joshua was smiling wide while riding a bicycle. He listed his pride in his athleticism, his love of all things culinary and his desire to one day write a hit screenplay. Morgan definitely did a decent job. He sounded nothing at all like Brock. And since I loved movies so much, I thought we'd have a lot to talk about. Plus, I was decent in the kitchen. This could actually work out.
When he called later that evening to schedule our date, I was drawn to his voice. It was soft and silky and I could tell he had done the internet dating thing many times before...whether or not that was a good thing was still a mystery.
I had to admit that the thought of ending up with another teacher sounded wonderful. He was an English teacher and loved to talk about literature and the classics. In addition to screenplays, he wrote poetry and had a real artistic streak to him. Mayson would probably call him pretentious and brainy. But, I told the voice in my head to butt out. I wanted to give Joshua a real chance.
Unlike Brock, he asked me many questions about myself. He inquired about my job, my family, and my students. Even better, he seemed genuinely interested in my answers. We had many things in common, such as our love of the theater and books written by Hemingway and Twain. When he asked me out for the following weekend, I realized that I was genuinely looking forward to learning more about him, wondering if maybe this could amount to something.
He suggested we meet at a restaurant in between our two suburbs, an Irish Pub that sat on the outskirts of a movie theater. He wrote screenplays and I loved movies, so I assumed we'd be heading there if all went well at dinner.
"Wow, you're even prettier in person, Daphne," Joshua said, greeting me at the door to the pub.
"Thank you," I said, smiling at him. "You look very handsome yourself."
Joshua's light blond hair was short and spiky in the front. His hipster glasses complemented his sapphire eyes and I was instantly drawn to the freckles that adorned his pale cheeks. He took my hand gently and led me to our table.
"Would you like something to drink? They have really great microb
rews here," he said as he handed me the drink menu.
"I think I'll have some wine. Moscato is my favorite."
"What's that?"
"It's a sparkling white wine. It's kinda sweet."
"Well, then, let's get you a glass," he said.
The waitress arrived and Joshua ordered our drinks. "The lady will have a glass of Moscato, and I'd like the Lemon Shandy House Brew." The old fashioned part of me was wooed by his referring to me as "the lady"--definitely a first for me while on a date. But as our waitress walked away, I caught him staring at her ass. He turned back to me, a cocky grin spread about his face and winked, as if I should enjoy his wandering eye. I wanted to lash out, call him a pig, and throw my drink (which had not yet arrived) square in his face. Instead, I held my head high and convinced myself to stay calm. All guys had roaming eyes, Joshua wasn't afraid to hide his. It wasn't a deal breaker--not yet anyway.
"So, Joshua...do your friends call you Josh?"
"No."
Interesting.
I clammed up and had no idea what to say. We sat in silence for a minute.
"I don't like nicknames. They're childish. I teach kids named Josh. I'm not a Josh."
"O-kay," I said, treading carefully. I decided to make a joke to lessen the tension. "Reminds me of that episode of Friends."
His eyes were blank.
"You know," I continued, "the guy that Rachel dates. Ross calls him Josh, but Rachel corrects him. His name is Josh-u-a."
"I don't watch sitcoms." He said, opening his menu.
I guess that conversation was over.
When the waitress arrived with our drinks, Josh-u-a seemed ready to start fresh.
"To our first date," he toasted. "I hope to get to know you much better during this meal, Daphne. So far, I'm very impressed." He winked again.
What is it with this guy and winking? Does he have some kind of a twitch?
"So, what is your all-time favorite movie?" Joshua asked, leaning in closer to me.
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