by Nella Tyler
She took her jewelry off and carefully laid it in her jewelry box. She emptied the contents of her black bag onto the bed and then unzipped the black dress she had so recently purchased. She wrapped the bag in the dress and threw them both in the garbage.
I’m done with this, she thought to herself. No more.
With that, she headed for her bathroom and took a fifteen minute shower under water so hot it almost burned her skin. She shampooed every crevice of her scalp, re-shaved her legs and underarms even though she done it just that morning, emerged, and brushed her teeth followed by four gulps of mouthwash. When she was as clean as she could possibly be, she donned her nightshirt, slid between the covers, flipped on the television and fell asleep watching two reruns of Murder She Wrote.
At midnight, she awakened to the sound of a text coming into her phone. She picked it up to see Jerry was texting her. She went to her preferences, blocked his number, shut off the phone entirely, and put it back on the nightstand before falling back to sleep. She had just gotten through what was likely to be the worst night of her entire life.
Chapter Twelve
Saturday morning sneaked in while she was still sleeping. She did something quite uncharacteristic. She reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of sleeping pills. Downing one with a sip of water, she rolled over and tried to fall back asleep.
The nightmare of her date rolled back into her consciousness. She threw back the covers and ran for her bathroom, vomiting as she collapsed onto the floor. Her shaking hand reached for the water glass and a towel, dampening it beneath the stream of water from the sink. Bathing her face, the convulsions finally stopped and she eased herself into the bathtub and turned on the cold water. She sat there, shivering in her nightshirt; the water so cold that she felt herself becoming hypothermic.
Eventually, she half crawled, half fell out of the tub, stripped the clothes off, and left them in a pile. She staggered to her dresser and pulled out fresh clothing, and then crawled into the bed and shivered until the bedding warmed her again. I think I’m having a nervous breakdown, she thought to herself just as she fell asleep.
Later that afternoon, Mackenzie awakened and sat up, her stomach rumbling and her head aching with the strain of being sick. She swallowed some aspirin and snuggled back down for a bit until they relieved the pain.
Dressing and making her way to the kitchen, she looked at the computer with utter contempt and had she felt better, she might have dragged it out to the garbage can in the street. She made herself some hot broth and sipped it from a coffee mug as she watched an innocuous football game, having no idea which team was which and not really caring.
Her phone buzzed. It was Lucy texting her, making sure she was home and safe. Mackenzie simply answered that she was fine. She lay on the sofa is a totally depressed, disgruntled mood and the anxiety set in. She didn’t know what to do and finally resorted to something she didn’t want to do.
“Tim?” she asked when he answered the phone. “I need you.”
“On my way,” he said as the line went dead. It wasn’t more than fifteen minutes before there was a tapping on the patio door next to the living room. She stood up and let him in.
“I thought it might be better if I didn’t stand out front where the neighbors would be watching.”
“Thank you,” she sniffed.
“Hey there, come here,” he wrapped his arms around her. “Tell me what has you so upset.” He pulled her down onto the sofa and held her as she sobbed.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to get out. “I just didn’t know who else to call.”
“Of course, you know I’m here for you. Now, tell Uncle Tim what happened.” His voice was becoming serious and she realized then that he was being defensive on her behalf.
“The date last night…” she began, stuttering and drawing in gasping breaths between sobs. “It was so humiliating. I don’t know what I’m doing and the only solution is for me to be alone for the rest of my life. I’ll never have children, or grandchildren, or someone to hold my hand when I’m sick. I don’t even see any reason to keep going. I should just go crawl in with David now and get it over with.”
“Okay, now stop that!” his voice commanded. “I don’t want to hear any more of that kind of talk from you, you hear?” He bent far enough to reach the box of Kleenex on the end table and wiped her tears. “What did he do?”
She calmed a bit now that Tim was next to her; she felt as though she could hang on to him. “He was nothing like he said. He drove an old utility truck when he told me he was running a successful business with twenty employees. He was at least eight inches shorter than he’d said. He complained when I ordered a glass of wine, so I offered to buy dinner, which made him happy. He ordered steak and lobster and baked Alaska and slobbered it down over his clothes and onto the floor.
“Then, Tim… then he opened his mouth and showed me that he had absolutely no teeth in his mouth! Blamed it on some car accident where he beat up some guy. He said he spoke six languages but didn’t even flinch when I asked him a question in Spanish and German.
“And then…and then! He accused me of lying about my profile picture and said that I was flat-chested and not like in my pictures! Can you imagine? Him lying about all that and then having the nerve to accuse me?
“I paid the bill and ran out, but he chased me, blocked me from leaving the parking lot. I had to drive over the grass and onto the road shoulder to get away!”
“Did he touch you? Did he get your address?”
“No, no, he didn’t.”
“Okay, pretty lady. He’s scum, and this is all my fault. If I hadn’t insisted that you put yourself out there again, this would have never happened. Now, I want you to forget all about him, you hear?”
“I feel awful – dirty and dishonored.”
“No, no, you’re none of those. This is all my fault.”
“No, it isn’t. You were trying to help me, but it was my responsibility to say no and not go on that date.”
“Did you check him out first?”
“No. I figured I’d meet him at that restaurant in public, so it was no big deal. Then, if we hit it off, I’d do the check. I was unfair to Bill, insulting him with that background check before I’d even got to know him. I know now what he felt like. I’m just done with the whole thing. Done with it, you hear?”
“Shhhh, now, calm down. No harm, no foul. You just learned another lesson the hard way.”
“Can you believe it? Have you ever heard of anyone acting that way before?”
“Oh, yes, pretty lady, I’m afraid I’ve come pretty close. I took out one woman who spent the entire meal stuffing silverware, sugar packets, and complimentary dinner rolls into her bra and purse. I offered to buy her an extra meal as a take-out, but she declined, saying it was too expensive at that restaurant and she was going to get my money’s worth.” He laughed as he recalled the story. The sound of his laughter calmed Mackenzie all the more.
“I’m sorry for calling you. I shouldn’t have bothered you with this. It was my problem, not yours.”
“Hush now. It’s fine. I was just watching an old boring football game.”
“The team in red scored a touchdown in the last thirty seconds to win the game,” she supplied.
“So, you were watching it, as well?”
Mackenzie nodded.
“Okay, Uncle Tim is giving you new marching orders. You are to go on with your life until you meet the right man all on your own. No more online dating for you, you hear?”
She nodded again, wiping her nose and sitting up. The cool air between them felt like a disappointment and she realized how comforted he had made her feel. It came as something of a shock.
“Have you had dinner?”
“No, but I don’t want any. I ate some broth; my stomach was cramping and felt awful. I’ve been a mess. I just want to go back to sleep, if the truth be told.”
“Very well!” he announced and stood
up, picking her up as one cradles a child. He carried her back to her bedroom and slid her beneath the bedspread. “I want you to stay here for the rest of the evening, you hear me?”
Mackenzie smiled weakly and nodded. Tim flipped on the television and found a chick flick on the Hallmark channel. It seemed benign enough. “I’m going to go now,” he announced, the sight of Mackenzie in the bed beginning to go to his head.
“Oh, so soon?” she whined before she realized she had done it.
“Want me to stay a little longer?” he asked, and she shyly nodded.
“Okay, move over.” He kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed, on top of the covers next to her. “Here, give me that damned remote. I’m going to find something I can tolerate, and I want you to go to sleep, you hear?” He put his arm out and gathered her against himself, feeling the heat in his groin as he realized who he was with. It had been a very long time since he had felt that urge so strongly.
He looked down onto her mahogany head and saw that she was already fast asleep on his shoulder. He tenderly kissed the top of her forehead and pulled her a bit tighter, then struggled to find something on the television that didn’t involve lovemaking or marriage. He’d never realized how little was left over. He ended up watching a documentary on the raising of trout in farms and how they affected the environment.
* * *
It was hours later when Tim awakened. The television was still on, showing an infomercial for a set of cookware. Mackenzie had turned on her side, her bottom pressed into him and her hand curled beneath her pillow. He lay there for a long time and watched her, trying to deny what he was feeling for her. He knew she didn’t return any feelings for him. To her, he was just a big, good-natured clod – a big brother role.
He knew she’d be fine for the rest of the night, so he gently rolled off the bed, picked up his shoes, and left her house, locking the door behind himself. He had a lot of thinking to do on his way home.
VOLUME III
Chapter Thirteen
Mackenzie’s eyes were sticky from the tears of the previous night. Her hand reached out behind her as she remembered Tim lying there, but the space was empty. It was just like in the dreams she had, but those had been David. Or, at least she had assumed they were.
Her body ached as she rolled from the bed and landed on the floor with a thump. She did some gentle Yoga stretches to wake up her sore muscles and eventually stood up in search of some breakfast. She settled for a muffin and a cup of hot coffee, laced with a bit of cocoa and topped with whipped cream. It was comfort food and Lord knows, she needed some comfort right about then.
It was Sunday and there was nothing she had to do. She showered and dressed, applying her makeup as though she was going to a ball, when in fact, it would be her, all alone.
Walking back to the living room, the computer caught her eye again. She’d passed through the greatest humiliation and decided that she should turn it on and clean up her email and make sure her subscription to the site was formally terminated.
She went straight to the site and was dismayed to discover that although her profile was hidden, her subscription was live until the end of her billing cycle. “Reactivate Your Profile?” the message box popped up. Behind it, in gray, she could see she had an email box full of messages. With the glazed eyes of an addict, she clicked “Reactivate” and suddenly, the whole world of online dating once more filled her screen.
Greedily, she sorted through her Inbox, looking for familiar names. There was a letter from HarryM.
Dear Alice,
You haven’t been online the past couple of days and something tells me all is not so well. What happened? Did you have a bad experience or get another ringer? You don’t have to deal with them if you’ll just give me a chance. You know I’m interested and you know me well enough to realize that I’m not like the rest.
Give it some thought. I’m here when you’re ready.
Harry
For the first time since logging back on, Mackenzie got a warm glow from the letter. It was as if he had the power to protect her from whatever distance lay between them. She found this very intoxicating and wanted more.
Dear Harry,
Yes, you were right – another date gone awry. This one really got to me, though. He was simply despicable. So, here I sit, alone, a hundred dollars for the meal poorer (not to mention the dress and handbag I threw away when I got back home.) I’m ready to get off here for good – I really don’t belong.
Why have you never asked me out?
Mackenzie
She poked around a bit more in her messages and saw one that sort of interested her. The man’s name was FreeToAGoodHome – a name she founded rather cute when she thought about it. In reading his profile, she saw that he was fit and good looking with a well-trimmed moustache. He was retired from the U.S. Navy as an officer and now owned and operated his own construction business. He also had a degree in economics.
He happened to be online when she sent him a brief email. His message box popped up instantly and they chatted for more than an hour. She liked him and when she felt she’d stayed long enough, she mentioned she’d like to talk to him again and they agreed to meet that evening for another online chat.
Sighing, Mackenzie went to find her purse and coat and left for the bookstore. She wanted a calm, peaceful atmosphere where people weren’t aggressive or judging her. She was more than tired of feeling as though she was a milk cow on the hoof.
She found a spot in the children’s section where several kids were on their knees, gathered around a round table filled with colorful books. They were chattering excitedly and sharing stories, each one trying to outdo the other with each new tale. She suspected this area was more set up for as a babysitting area so parents could shop in peace.
Mackenzie found an empty chair and opened the book she had pulled from the shelf to skim through. She was going to transform a chair she’d picked up at a yard sale and wanted to understand the basics of upholstery and chair recovering.
“Excuse me,” came a male voice and Mackenzie looked up to see a tall man in a windbreaker addressing her. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was over here picking up my son to leave,” he pointed to one of the children at the round table, “and couldn’t help but see the book you’re reading. I’m interested in furniture re-upholstery, and I think that’s exactly the type of book I’m looking for. May I ask where you found it?”
She smiled and felt herself drawn by his warm smile. Pointing, she said, “Right over there on that second to the last bookcase, second shelf, about in the middle. I’m doing a chair myself and this will be a first for me.”
“My name is Adam,” he said, holding out his hand.
“I’m Mackenzie.”
“A nice name…unusual.”
“My mother’s maiden name; she was a Scot,” she explained, and he nodded in understanding.
“So, what are you planning to do to your chair?” he asked, seemingly interested.
“I saw a picture of a chair that was covered in fabric made from quilt pieces. They were pastel in color and each block separated by a white one. Then they painted the wooden parts of the chair white and the overall look was sort of shabby chic.”
“Huh, very nice idea. Do you quilt?”
“Nope, nor do I know a thing about refinishing chairs. But, I can learn.”
The kids chortled from behind them and Adam turned to see his son’s turn to read and share had finally arrived.
“Hey, I don’t want to drag him out of that quite yet – he gets so little chance to socialize. Would you be interested in joining me over there in the café for coffee and a Danish?”
Mackenzie felt herself stiffen a bit and decided she’d have to overcome this revulsion for dating. “Actually, I would,” she answered and followed him to the café area of the store. He pulled out a chair for her, held up his finger to indicate he’d be right back and returned with two mugs of coffee and an assortment of mini Da
nishes arranged on a plate. “I couldn’t decide,” he explained. “So I bought one of each.”
She laughed at his spontaneity, and as he sat down, they began to talk about the relaxation and inspiration of doing craft projects. Adam told her about having a woodshop in his garage where he worked on all sorts of projects.
“Lucky you,” she said. “I don’t have anything like that. In fact, I’m not even sure I have a jigsaw. My husband passed two years ago, you see, and I haven’t had the opportunity to go through his stuff in the garage. So, if I need something, I pay someone at the hardware store to cut it for me.”
“Wow, that can get expensive.”
She nodded, sipping her coffee and suddenly wild laughter came from the children’s corner.
“Sounds like they’re having fun,” she commented and Adam nodded.
“I’m not really sure how they make money by letting the kids read the books for free,” he added.
“I think the idea is the kids are occupied which allows the parents to shop as long as their heart desires.”
“Well, it’s a heckuva idea and evidently works pretty well because I see a lot of full shopping bags leaving the store.”
She nodded in agreement. “What do you do?”
“I’m an architect. Divorced and this is my weekend to get Pete,” he pointed to the children’s area in explanation.
“I never had any children – we never got to that point – but it must be tough to be a part-time dad.”
“It is. It’s not what I had in mind when I said ‘I do’ – not at all. But, then I wouldn’t have Pete if I hadn’t, so there’s a silver lining to every cloud,” he commented, picking up one of the pastries. “You’d better get your favorite flavor before I eat them all,” he added.
She grinned and picked one topped with lemon filling. “Whew!” she exclaimed when the sour lemon mixed with the sweet coffee sugar on her tongue. She quickly wiped her mouth with her napkin and then placed it back in her lap, upon which it promptly fell to the floor. She bent to retrieve it when Adam stopped her.