I shook my head. “No, and I know she wanted to have a bachelorette party for me at the end of the summer, but she hasn’t said anything about it since June.”
“Ooo, can I plan it?” Jim asked excitedly.
“No!” I balked. “What do you know about bachelorette parties?”
Jim reached into his back pocket and retrieved his business card which he slid across the table. “Um, don’t you remember my job?”
Actually, up until that moment, I had forgotten all about Jim’s “side job”. Funny, since that’s was all I could think of the first day he told me about it.
Shooing the card away I replied, “I don’t know about that. It doesn’t sound like a very good idea.” Scared to see Jim naked, Elizabeth? Think you might like it too much?
“Oh come on. I’ll call Nora and we’ll take care of the whole thing.” Jim snatched my phone off the table and programmed Nora’s number into his cell before I could blink.
“Okay, but I don’t have a very good feeling about this,” I advised as he handed my phone back.
“Ignore your brain, Elizabeth,” Jim told me as he stood, stretching his arms above his head.
“It’s not my brain,” I explained as I also stood up. “It’s my gut. I just have a bad feeling about this whole bachelorette party thing.”
“It’s going to be fine,” Jim assured me. “You need to relax.
Little did we know then, sometimes, you need to go with your gut.
Eighteen
Simon was gone.
I stood in the hallway between my bedroom and the living room, and I just knew. Nothing was different or out of place, and he was usually gone by the time I woke up in the morning a few weeks later, but that day, I sensed his absence.
Stepping cautiously into the living room, I glanced around as if Simon was going to jump out and try to scare me. Nope, nothing unusual. Peeking into the closet, I saw that the linens were folded up and stacked on the floor, just as they were every morning. I couldn’t figure out what was different.
And then I saw it. Or rather, didn’t see it. Simon’s bag, which had taken up a permanent residence on my closet floor, tucked behind shoeboxes and other crap impulse purchases, was no longer there.
I felt the tears pricking at my eyes and before I could stop them, they trickled down my cheeks.
What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve wanted him to leave since he got here! It’s been nothing but a nightmare every single day.
I swiped at the tears on my face. I really needed to get a grip. Getting emotional over Simon was just ludicrous. I mean, it was Simon. The man who wrecked my life two years ago and was trying to pull me back down in the abyss with him once again.
You’re going to miss him, aren’t you? I swear the voices in my head need therapy. They were beginning to sound schizophrenic. In an attempt to disrupt my lamenting over Simon’s departure, I headed to the kitchen in search of coffee to begin my routine for the day. Maybe the voices needed caffeine to shut up.
Austin had flown in last night and requested we have brunch with his parents, who were once again, in town. I swear those people were here more than Austin was. After my coffee, I was going to get dressed and spend at least an hour writing before leaving to meet my fiancé.
Every day, I tried to spend two hours writing and two hours at the gym. So far, the writing had paid off, the gym…not so much. I had gained five pounds since I started with this routine. Today, I was sacrificing the gym. It really pained me. Not.
Entering the kitchen, I reached for the window shade and tugged, letting the sunlight flood into the tiny space. I opened the cabinet and reached for my favorite Cheshire Cat mug. Most girls I know growing up wanted to be a Disney Princess. I wanted to be the Cheshire Cat and be able to disappear so I could eavesdrop on other people’s conversations. Okay, so I was a little bit of a voyeur in that sense. Doesn’t make me weird…just makes me creative.
I pulled the mug from the shelf and several hot pink sticky notes fluttered off and landed at my bare feet. Where did those come from?
Curiosity peaked, I deserted the mug on the counter and bent down to retrieve the pieces of paper. The words were written in Simon’s handwriting—the notes numbered, one through five. I put them in order and began to read.
After ingesting the words, I felt dizzy and wished I hadn’t read the notes. I reached for a chair and lowered my weak body into it. Like that car wreck you can’t help but to slow down to gawk at, I found myself rereading Simon’s potent words once more.
My dearest Lizzie, This time I’m leaving for good. I mucked up your life enough the first time and I want more than anything for you to be happy. I’ve been a selfish prick since the divorce and (new note) have been following you ever since. Stalking, if you will. I never got kicked out of my flat. I gave it up. I saw that you were getting cozy with that Austin chap and I was hoping to bust it up. I still (new note) love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. My heart has been in pieces since the day you came home from the hospital. We were whole the day before and then the sonogram happened and my life has been in shambles ever since. I was hoping if you let (new note) me back in your life, you would remember how happy we once were and we could be happy together again. But now I know, that’s never going to happen. You’ve moved on and I must also. You’re happy with Austin and I realize I need to bow out of the picture. I know in my heart that you are my soul mate, but I was (new note) the one who fucked up, so I must pay the price. I love you until death do us part, Simon.
I wanted to scream, punch him, smack him. I wanted to do something, anything besides sitting at the kitchen table with tears plopping all over the cheap Formica top. I wanted to call him a son of a bitch, a douche, an asshole. I wanted to sling every possible insult his way, but I couldn’t help thinking, Oh my God, I’ve never stopped loving him either. And now it’s definitely over.
My thoughts were shattered by the sudden ringing of the doorbell. My first thought was of Simon. Maybe he’s coming back.
Rising unsteadily, I smoothed my bed head and slowly sauntered to the front door, my heart thumping in my ears. What would I say? What did I truly want to say? Simon, I love you? I never stopped loving you either? I forgive you for breaking my heart?
I wiped my sweating palms on my bare legs before swinging the door open. My face fell as I saw it was not Simon at all. It was Austin.
“Oh, Austin,” I stammered. I’m sure my disappointment was evident.
“Who else were you expecting? The Tooth Fairy?” Austin joked as he stepped into the apartment.
“Nobody.” I closed the door and followed behind him as he headed toward the couch. “I wasn’t even expecting you. Um, what are you doing here?”
“Brunch with my parents? Remember?” Austin shook his head in disbelief.
“I thought I was meeting you there,” I exclaimed. And I also thought I had another two hours to get ready.
Austin sighed. “Elizabeth, I told you a hundred times. I was coming to pick you up at nine thirty. You’re really getting flakey lately.”
I seriously did not remember this. And I think if he told me he was coming here, I would have panicked because up until a few hours ago, Simon resided here.
Oh my God! Simon’s note. It was still sitting on the kitchen table! I had to get into the kitchen and get that note before Austin saw it!
“Oh yeah, sorry,” I smacked my head in mockery. “Silly me. Too much on my brain with the wedding and all. Let me just grab my coffee and I’ll throw some clothes on.” As I started speed walking toward the kitchen, I felt Austin coming up from behind. No Austin! Stay there. Heel. Sit boy. Three steps ahead of him, I snatched the notes off the table and balled them up in my hand.
“Go get dressed and get the coffee at brunch. They have coffee at the restaurant, you know,” Austin kidded as I scooped the coffee into the filter and stuck the pot underneath the brewer.
“I know, but I can’t leave my apartment without my coffee,”
I explained.
Austin looked appalled. “Are you kidding?”
“No. It’s just one of my quirks.” A quirk you obviously don’t know about. Like my other five thousand little quirks.
The coffee machine made a gurgling noise as it warmed up and seconds later, the rich brown stream trickled into the pot. The smell delighted my olfactory glands as I inhaled deeply. My morning coffee was my one daily comfort in my otherwise mundane existence. I was beginning to associate it with the quiet time I got alone with my writing each day.
Well, that wasn’t happening today—I could see Austin was already anxious to get moving. He opened the fridge and stared. “What are you doing?” I asked as I poured the coffee into my mug.
“Getting cream. Or milk. Or whatever it is you take in your coffee,” he answered while still peering into my nearly empty fridge. “Where is your creamer?”
“I drink it black,” I explained, sipping from the mug after adding my heaping of sugar. My fiancé didn’t even know how I took my coffee and my ex-husband not only knew that, but he knew exactly what mug I drink out of and what color post-it notes are my favorite. I shook my head to quell my never resting brain.
No more comparisons between the two! Simon was…is, a thing of the past. He probably didn’t know all my quirks in the beginning either, just like I didn’t know all of his. This relationship with Austin is new. We’ll learn together.
Out with the old and in with the new. I stepped on the pedal for the garbage can as Austin headed back in the living room. Without a second thought, I tossed Simon’s crumbled up notes into the garbage. The lid clattering caused Austin to jump.
“What was that?”
“Oh nothing. Just getting rid of some garbage.” I took a large gulp of my coffee and set the mug back down on the counter. Dashing toward the bathroom I added, “I’m going to shower really quickly.” The idea of showing up to brunch with my future-in-laws while reeking of three day old sweat was unspeakable to me.
Austin glanced at his watch nervously. “Well, hurry up. I told my parents we’d be there by eleven o’clock.”
“Just jumping in and out. Got to wash my hair,” I called as I stuck my head out of the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and turned the faucet on. As the water warmed up, I stripped off my clothes. Stepping into the shower, my nose was assaulted by his scent.
Simon. His distinct body wash and after shave. The one that smelled like a summer rain storm. The one that turned my knees to Jello. He must have showered before leaving this morning. Giving me one last taste of him.
I washed and rinsed my hair quickly, trying to ignore the obvious presence of Simon. The smell will dissipate quickly. Just wash up. But, did I really want the scent to go away? I closed my eyes as I inhaled deeply, imagining Simon right there in the shower with me. Rubbing the body wash over my shoulders, my chest, my abdomen…
“Elizabeth!” I was jolted from my daydream as Austin poked his head behind the shower curtain.
“Jesus, Austin!” I yelped. “You scared the crap out of me!”
“We have to get going. We’re going to be late.”
“Okay, okay.” I hurriedly rinsed the suds from my body.
“My parents are sticklers for punctuality. I really don’t want to listen to my father complain that we were late on top of everything else he’s going to bitch and moan about.”
Austin handed me the towel I used to wipe down the walls in the shower. I shook my head at him and pointed at the fluffy towel hanging on the rack. Austin sighed and yanked at it. I took it from him and wrapped it around my body.
Austin moved aside as I stepped out of the tub. Exiting the bathroom, I stopped at the linen closet and retrieved a towel to dry my hair with. Austin trailed behind as I entered my bedroom. Opening the closet, I peered inside pensively.
“Hmmm, what should I wear?”
Austin threw his hands up in the air. “Seriously? Elizabeth, just grab something and let’s go!”
I parted the clothes and selected an electric blue sundress with lime green flowers. Holding it up to my chest I asked Austin, “Does this look okay?”
“Great. Lovely. Just put it on,” Austin instructed impatiently.
“All right. My God you’re testy today,” I observed, opening my dresser to retrieve a pair of underwear. “I didn’t get the impression that your dad was that much of a hard ass from when I met him.”
Austin’s face colored slightly. “Because you’re not the victim of his wrath. The son who can’t do anything right.”
“You think so? He seems really proud of you,” I remarked, sliding on a pair of electric blue panties that matched the dress. I could not fathom non-matching bras and panties. You never know when you’re going to have an accident or something.
Austin pushed aside a pile of my clothes and sat on my unmade bed. “Ha! For a writer you’re not very observant then.”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered as I dropped the towel and stepped into the sundress. I had trouble getting it past my hips, so I jumped around the bedroom, trying to get the fabric to budge. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and noticed that my breasts were flopping up and down in a rather uncoordinated fashion.
“What are you doing?” Austin asked, a look of distain on his face. He did not appear turned on or impressed by my “getting dressed” dance.
“Putting my dress on.” I finally got the dress past my waist without ripping it and was now struggling to get the straps over my shoulders.
“If it doesn’t fit, why are you wearing it? You should get rid of it.”
I froze and stared at my fiancé. Did he not take “Dating 101”? What lame brain idiot would say something like that to their girlfriend? Excuse me…fiancé.
“It fits,” I retorted defensively. “I just have to do a little work to get it on, that’s all.”
Besides, Simon bought me this dress when we went to Paris and I’ll be damned if I ever throw it out. Simon wouldn’t have said, get rid of it, it doesn’t fit. No, Simon’s tongue would be wagging from watching me get dressed. And then he would rip it off my body—
Enough with Simon! I screamed at myself. Austin shrugged as he stood.
“You ready now?”
“In a minute.” I knelt next to the bed, searching underneath to locate my white sandals. They were wedged in between a pair of boots and a horde of flip flops. Standing up, I slid my freshly painted toes into them. Austin left the bedroom and I headed toward the bathroom for an elastic band.
He turned when he realized I wasn’t following him. “More?”
“Just a sec,” I commented casually. I wrapped my thick, shoulder length hair into a bun on top of my head.
“Oh God, not the bun,” Austin groaned from the hallway.
“Do you want me to take twenty minutes to do my hair, then?” I parried as I reached for my make-up bag.
“No. Just…agh!” Austin threw his hands in the air and marched back into the living room.
“I don’t know why you’re complaining. We’re not even late.” I swiped blush on my cheeks and eyelids. Zipping up the make-up bag, I inspected myself in the mirror. Was that a pimple forming on my chin? I pushed my face closer to the mirror. Son of a bitch! I hadn’t had a pimple since I was thirteen years old.
Annoyed at my skin’s betrayal, I angrily unzipped the make-up bag and pulled out a vial of foundation. I lightly applied it and tilted my head toward the light so that I could scrutinize my handiwork. Satisfied that I had disguised the offensive red mark, I threw the make-up back in the bag and clicked off the bathroom light. Austin was tapping his foot anxiously by the front door.
“Are we ready now?” he asked sarcastically.
“Wow, I’ve never seen you this edgy,” I commented as I slung my purse over my shoulder.
Austin grunted and I immediately felt guilty. Have some sympathy for the guy. You never thought that you could do anything right in your father’s eyes, either. If my Dad was still alive I’
d probably be falling all over myself to impress him, too.
I locked the front door and we headed toward the elevator, me sauntering, Austin at a breakneck pace. He poked the elevator button rapidly.
“It doesn’t come faster if you press it more,” I observed with a smile. Austin ignored me. I made a mental note to keep the snarky comments to myself today. They would be wasted on him anyway.
After our extremely tense elevator ride, I followed Austin to his car. He clicked open the door for me, but didn’t hold it open, a sure sign that he was annoyed. We both climbed into our seats and buckled up. Austin rolled down our windows after turning on the car. As he pulled out into traffic, I awkwardly remarked, “Well it certainly is a beautiful day. Not too hot for once.”
Austin didn’t respond as he cranked up the radio, listening to a Yankees replay. I folded my arms across my chest defensively. I guess we’re going to play this game today. Fine then. I can play, too. I leaned back and stared out the window.
Geez, I’m sorry I took a while to get ready, but he really was overacting. It seems like Austin overacted to everything I did lately. Maybe this is why I never want to tell Austin anything. Maybe it was because we got into a fight every time I tried to talk to him about what was bothering me or how I felt.
Like the time I attempted to explain that I sometimes I prefer different positions in bed. He got huffy and defensive and accused me of “rating” his performance. So I just dropped it and let him stick to the same old positions all the time. Now that I think about it, I probably haven’t had an orgasm since that argument. Wow, that’s really sucky.
I started counting back on fingers, thinking about when that incident actually was, when an even more alarming thought occurred to me. I remember that day clearly because I was trying to convince Austin to go down on me because my period had just ended. He has yet to perform oral sex on me, even though I was constantly giving him blow jobs. And now that I think about it, that was right after the dress shopping debacle and I don’t recall having my period since then!
“Stop the car!” I screeched. Austin slammed on his brakes, causing the car behind us to nearly rear end the Prius.
[2013] Note to Self- Change the Locks Page 23