by Hollye Davis
“This isn’t the food bank chick. We don’t give food out for free,” the girl answered back sarcastically.
Wow, the chick soo didn’t need to be in a customer service position with an attitude like that.
“Well my aunt said…” Cloe began but was interrupted.
“I don’t give a shit about what your aunt said,” she said.
Yep, this is typical reaction from kids her age. She swore it must be a chemical thing. It was the “give Cloe a hard time and walk all over her” chemical. The US should bottle it and distribute it among enemies. The whole terrorist country would collapse from within and there would be no need for US intervention.
Sigh, it was time for a different tactic. “Is there a manager or someone I could talk to?”
“EARL!” the death girl yelled loudly making Cloe flinch. Dang, they must be desperate to hire help this bad. Maybe she could get a job here to earn some extra cash.
A fat sweaty man came waddling out of the back room. His heavy breathing preceding him - Yuck. Forget the job idea. She was not that desperate to work with these people.
“This chick thinks she can get this shit for free and I told her we ain’t no food bank,” the girl said to the obese man.
Nice, she thought sarcastically and totally untrue.
“What she means,” Cloe explained, “is that my aunt stopped by here and set up a line of credit so I could buy the necessary items for the cottage number 264. I’m hoping you can help me?” She gave a weak smile hoping to somehow sway the icky man.
She had learned a long time ago if you acted polite you were more likely not going to get hit, but oh geez, to her own ears she sounded so lame and ridiculous, not to mention a tad sleazy. But for some reason good old fat Earl like it and smiled a greasy smile back at her making her feel an acute need to take a shower.
“Sure sweet thang, I remember. Don’t mind my niece here, she is just PMSing, aren’t cha sweet cheeks?” He patted the death girl on the butt. Cloe nearly vomited and from the looks of the girl’s expression, she nearly did too.
After the girl got the items tallied up and good ole Earl taught sweet cheeks how to write a bill for her aunt, Cloe got the hell out of there. The truth was she felt sorry for the death girl. The girl obviously had a pretty horrible life that she wasn‘t able to escape. It made her think that things could always be worse in this life for her, like having Earl as her Uncle. She shook off the horrible thought. Sad to say she rather be hit then endure Earl.
When she arrived at the cottage she started making an elaborate lunch. It was so fun cooking that she completely lost track of time. The music was blaring in background as she swayed her hips to the fast beat while she cooked.
It was a knock, a little too close for comfort, which startled her out of her preparations. She swung around to see Edwin’s beautiful visage peering in the back glass door from the deck.
Her heart stopped, stuttered, and then galloped at the sight of him. Damn, she must have it bad. No one has ever made her feel like this.
Trying to be cool, calm, and collective she slowly made her way to the door. She tripped over her feet twice and bumped into the kitchen table once, but otherwise made it to the door without any major catastrophe. She knew she was uncool but she could act unaffected. Yeah, how can you try to be unaffected when you felt like you were having a heart attack?
Edwin smiled a beautiful perfect smile. This guy needed to be a model or actor or something. He was that perfect, she thought as she tried to give him her best smile.
With the door swung wide he said with his lovely accent, “I beg your pardon, but I thought you might want to grab a bite to eat for lunch. I know you stay here by yourself and you must get lonely.”
She blinked at him and searched for a thought in her empty head, Uhhuh…anything…I mean… think Cloe!
“Ohh, ummm,” She said. She was so intelligent and bright, she thought sarcastically. But when she finally got her wits together she gestured toward the kitchen, “I am cooking lunch. You can join me.” She cave girl, you cave man, pound her chest - she was such a loser.
Thank goodness he seemed unaffected by her unintelligent speech and actually appeared delighted by the prospect of a homemade lunch. He sat at the glass table then said, “You said last night you liked to cook. I guess you meant it.” He glanced at all the ingredients she had splayed around and the mess she had created. She never said she was a clean cook, just a good one. She smiled at herself as she looked at her mess. She nodded at Edwin and continued to prepare the food.
Edwin didn’t have to wait long. After a few minutes of preparing their plates, she placed his food in front of him, grabbed the necessary implements and juice from the fridge and sat down.
After of few minutes of silence she glanced at Edwin to see if he was enjoying his lunch. But watching Edwin eat was like watching a finely orchestrated concert and it made her feel like the country bumpkin she was. She put her fork down and looked off to the ocean, the food all of a sudden tasted like dirt. She was so very inept at everything.
“Is something troubling you?” Edwin asked.
“Ohhh, hum, no I don’t believe so,” She half answered still gazing at the waves. The answer was more of a reflex than the truth. When she glanced back at him he was intently watching her.
“How’s your lunch?” she inquired, trying to change the subject.
“Delicious, you do not disappoint,” he said smiling that heart stopping and delicious smile of his.
It was silly but her heart sped up again at his words. She knew he meant her food but in mind she envisioned it was more general than it actually was. That she didn’t disappoint. How pathetic she was. This guy was as obtainable as catching a star in the midnight sky and she was forming a mega-crush on him.
She stiffened her spine determined to stop her feelings. They began a stilted conversation about the beach, the waves, and the weather while they finished lunch. Sometime during the talk, he suggested a walk and, well, when you live on a beach that is always a great idea.
Before they went he helped her clean up the dishes. He seemed so clueless, as if he had never washed a dish before. She wanted to know more about Edwin and his life but she forced herself to reframe. Questions only led to unhappiness and she was so very happy right now, she didn’t want to ruin anything. Besides what was the tactful way of saying, “How come you’re so filthy rich and refined?”
With the dishes done, they made their way out to the empty beach. She wondered if the beach stayed empty all year round or as the summer warmed would more people come? Since she didn’t get along with most people, she was hoping the weather and water would never warm. Irrational thoughts but it never hurt to dream.
“What are you thinking about over there?” Edwin asked interrupting her wishful thinking.
“Sorry, I am not used to talking to anyone. I tend to forget you are here.”
“You know you do not help a chap with his self esteem,” Edwin smiled self-depreciatingly.
“Oh geez, I’m very sorry. I’m just not good at this…” she couldn‘t finish the sentence. The truth was she wasn’t good at anything.
“At what?” Edwin asked.
“Conversation, life, friends, everything!” She answered blushing and irritated.
“I’ve only met you so I can’t comment on everything, but as far as friends and conversation I think you do a fine job at both,” he touched her arm briefly then let his hand drop. It sent chills throughout her body.
She laughed a humorless laugh, fighting the sensations he was evoking in her. Maybe he was as unstable as her. Maybe he thought her stilted conversations were good because he was untalented like her. Then she quickly dismissed the idea. He was good at conversation. He had been able to get a lot more information out of her in a short time.
“Oh look!” She said suddenly, picking up another perfect sand dollar. This one was larger than the other one! She smiled at Edwin. “Isn’t it perfect?!” She bea
med at him.
It took him a moment to move his gaze from her smile and look down at the sand dollar. In a husky voice he said, “Yes, quite.”
“I know you think I am weird to be so happy about finding a sand dollar, but it is just a symbol I think.” She looked shyly up to him not sure she should continue but when he returned an interested absorbed look it gave her the nerve to continue, “You see sand dollars are so fragile. It blows me away that it has to travel through all that turmoil,” she pointed at the ocean, “in order to make here to the beach and even after that it has to endure people, seagulls, wind, rain to survive, yet it does! To find one whole is like telling me that it is possible for me to be okay; not broken, because if this paper thin object can make it through all that, certainly I can make it through this life.” She nodded with affirmation still smiling.
Edwin took the sand dollar carefully out of her hand and examined it as if it was the first time he had seen one. He looked back at her and placed it back into her hand. He looked off to the sea and for a long moment. Finally he said, “I’m sorry Cloe, I look at you and wonder how anyone could be around you and not want to continue doing so. I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t like you.”
She snorted with humor, “Well Edwin, you’re definitely the minority in that, but I’m glad.” She tapped on his shoulder with the tips of her fingers, “I’m glad you are my friend.” She smiled sweetly at him. He looked down at her and then off again to the ocean. A few heartbeats later he said, “Yes, friends.”
That night Edwin came to collect her for the fire astonishing her that she was invited back. They must be desperate for diversified company, she thought.
She silently lectured herself on the short walk to the fire to be more personable and not make a fool of herself. However, right as she arrived, she tripped on apparently sand and fell straight into Christoph’s lap. She tried to eject herself but Christoph wasn’t making any effort to help, in fact he kept shifting making it impossible for to gain her balance. Finally, Edwin reached down and physically removed her from his lap glaring at Christoph the entire time. When she was able to stand again she hoped it was too dark for anyone to see her blush.
Christoph seemed a tad too delighted as if she had chosen his lap to fall in and he voiced his approval to everyone. Edwin, however, helped her brush off some of the sand and asked if she was hurt. Of course she wasn’t hurt, she was humiliated but she couldn’t admit that to Edwin or anyone.
It took everything inside her not to run back to the cottage. Edwin helped her get situated back at the fire without any other mishap. It would have been preferable for her to fall in the fire.
Yet, once again, she was surprised that anyone wanted to talk to the spaz girl and she soon found herself into a pretty decent conversation about romance books with Christine. Christine’s chilly façade began to fall away to a warm and caring individual. She guessed being that beautiful isn’t easy either.
Sandra talked about shopping, a lot. She seemed to know everything about fashion and it was interesting, to a point. Penelope was very reserved but when she did speak it was always a surprising insight that had her thinking deeply. Her intelligence blew Cloe away. In fact all three women were perfect.
Once again, she wondered why they were wasting their time with her. She was so utterly broken and uninteresting. What could she talk about besides books? Maybe about farm life or the hell she endured the last two and half years. Who would want to know about that?
In a lull in the conversation, Edwin came and sat by her. He leaned and whispered in her ear to ask how she was enduring the girl talk. She laughed nervously. His warm breath did crazy things to her breathing and to her sanity.
She turned toward him and found he was so close she had to force herself not to flinch or lean in closer. Even in the dark, his blue eyes seemed to see right through her. It couldn’t be healthy for her to feel this anxious. Anxious for what she didn’t know.
She looked down at her hands in an effort to not stare at him like a deranged fool. He leaned back on his hands crossing his legs in front of him, “I noticed you like to dance.”
She blushed fiercely. He had an art for bringing up embarrassing subjects. “Oh don’t remind me of the spectacle I presented on that first night Christoph came to apologize.” He smiled big as if conjuring up an image of her dancing. “That was amusing. We watched you for a little while debating if we should intrude. I voted no, but that was because I would have watched you all night if I could.”
And probably laugh your ass off too, she thought. “Well I do like to dance. It’s a release for me. You don’t have to think, you just let the music take over and you move. It can be as simple as you want or as complicated. I don’t care if I am good or not,” she added defensively.
“I feel the same way. I love to dance. We will have to go dancing some time.” He watched her closely gauging her reaction. The thought of going anywhere gave her a stomachache and she shook her head. She was terrified of leaving the community. Afraid if she left she would not be admitted back in. She would rather stay here and be safe.
“I don‘t know,” She said noncommittally. When he looked so disappointed she suggested, “Maybe we should bring music here.” Before Edwin could answer Christoph scooted closer and said, “That’s an excellent idea Cloe. We should have music so we all can dance.” He waggled his eyebrows up and down and she laughed. Suddenly Duke asked, “Hey Cloe do you surf?”
She chuckled, “I’m from Central Texas, we have lakes.”
He smiled and said, “Well when the water warms up, we’ll have to teach you.”
It sounded fun so she agreed. She smiled at everyone, truly feeling at ease for once. But it was getting late and she was once again exhausted from all the conversation. Being social was tiring, especially for the untalented. She rose to her feet while telling everyone goodnight. They all begged that she return tomorrow, she nodded, turned and walked alone to her cottage. Her feet sunk into the cool sand, the sky bright with stars, she closed her eyes briefly and tried to remember another time in her life when she felt this free.
A touch on her arm startled her. She stumbled but luckily, Edwin stopped her decent, by grabbing her arm. He held on to it for a moment longer than necessary.
In a soft voice he asked, “Do you miss Texas?”
She smiled, that was an easy question for her. She loved talking about Texas.
As they walked, she slowly breathed out, “Absolutely, Texas is home. It is unlike any place I have been. I miss the huge skies and the rolling hills. I miss the massiveness of it. Although I have to say the ocean is pretty massive, it is different. I miss the smells and the sounds. In Germany ever so often the day would clear and be warm enough to remind me of Texas and I would mourn it. I had some decent friends in Texas too and I miss that as well.” She paused a moment to remember them, she wondered what they were up to after all these years. Then she continued, “I had a lot of responsibility but I didn’t mind. I felt useful. My grandparents were tough, but they weren’t horrible until Grandpa died. After that my friends disappeared because I was so occupied with the farm. My grandmother lost her mind and went a little crazy…or a lot. She got abusive too. That was the hardest. She took a bat to our TV one night because that was my grandfather’s favorite thing to do, watch the news. When I tried to stop her, she came after me. She hit me several times with it but she was so weak and emotional at that point it didn’t hurt too badly.”
Cloe slapped her hand over her mouth horrified. God, why did she tell him that? She seemed to be afflicted with diarrhea mouth lately.
He was staring at her with evident shock and said, “Good God.”
She said sheepishly, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that. It’s a horrible memory. I try to forget about them but sometimes they just bubble up out of nowhere. I haven’t talked to a lot of people and for some reason with you I purge it all out.” She gave him a small smile but it was probably more like a grimace.
At the cottage he looked at her for a moment. A muscle in his jaw was bunching as if he was going to say something but kept stopping. Finally he said, “Do you mind if I join you for lunch tomorrow?”
Cloe answered sincerely, “That would be cool.” She was relieved that her story hadn’t scared him away. He nodded and she walked up the stairs as he stood at the bottom watching her.
The one feeling in life that I had learned to avoid above all others was anticipation because everything I had looked forward to had turned into rotten refuge. When the disappointments continued to plague me throughout my life, I learned to turn my mind to other matters avoiding the feeling altogether. I refused to dream or to think about the future except getting the hell out of high school and into college. –Cloe’s diary
Chapter 8
Unhealthy obsession Since she had met Edwin, she had failed miserably in doing anything but anticipate. Every turn, every breath, every thought revolved around him. She was excited for Edwin coming over. She was excited about the possibilities of their friendship. She couldn’t concentrate, she couldn’t work, and she didn’t know what she was going to do if Edwin stopped coming. She should hate him for making her anticipate, but instead she sat doe-eyed staring at the ocean imagining what a kiss would be like from him.
It was pitiable.
After a small breakfast she sat on her usual spot on the couch with her book. She reread one page three times. It was useless. She couldn’t even read or clean or anything worthwhile. Edwin had made her worthless.
Disgusted with herself, she rose to put on some music and began to prepare lunch. She would take her time. After all she had a lot of it.
Once she got into the grove of the music and lunch preparations, time flew by. In the middle of chopping meat cutlets into cubes and a particularly great thrust of her hips to a fast song, she felt an uncomfortable presence, as if someone was watching her. She whipped around to see a man standing in her kitchen, the sun making him appear in silhouette. She gripped the knife in her hand hard ready to release the scream building in her throat when she relaxed. It was Edwin. She held her free hand up to her racing heart and said shakily, “Good grief, I think you took about twenty years off my life.”