Through a Stranger's Eyes

by Steven S Walsky

  Chapter Fifteen

  The house was as Uncle Steff said, in order. Breen’s aunt was a gracious hostess, and a great cook. It was a comfortable house, a nice house. Since Breen and I had stopped for supper along the way, we gathered in the kitchen for a nice dessert; coffee and ‘how’s the weather’ small talk. Then it was into the living room for the real talk. If I thought Ve had done some probing and prodding, Aunt Margaret was ten times worse, but far better at it. But thanks to Uncle Steff, I felt up to the task of sweet talking Aunt Margaret into letting me hold Breen’s hand in church. I also discerned from the conversation that it was a good thing we had Saturday to prepare to meet the ‘women’ at church on Sunday. I was not sure what we had to do to prepare, other than get comfortable around Breen’s aunt and uncle; I thought we might enter the church with linked arms in solidarity.

  The motel I picked was about five miles from the house. I had not even settled into the room when Breen calls, “You got an ‘A,’ and you did not even send flowers this time.”

  “Thanks, but your aunt and uncle liked the candy.”

  “OK, you also get an ‘A’ for the candy.”

  “Breen, your uncle likes me.”

  “So does my aunt. But don’t take ‘like’ as the same thing as instantly trusting you with my heart. Regardless of how old I am, they will always think of me as their little girl. Do you realize how old we are? Seriously, their oldest granddaughter is as old as I was when we first spent time together.”

  “And your point is?”

  “I’m not the eighteen year old you first met…”

  I cut her off. “Breen, I’m not complaining!”

  “You’re not the twenty-three year old I met either. Good night Dave.”

  “Night Breen.”

  On Saturday morning before I had a chance to come over to the house Breen called and said she and her aunt were going to visit Ken’s mother. Breen had told me that she was not looking forward to seeing her under the current circumstances; apprehensive to say the least.

  Spending most the day with Uncle Steff was interesting; interesting was the best way to describe it. He was not sure, nor was I, as to what and how much we could talk about. I liked that, Uncle Steff respecting Breen’s privacy and my privacy. But like Uncle Steff said when we met, there was no doubt as to the reason we had been left alone by the women.

  So, sitting in the kitchen, eating a lunch of sandwiches and drinking ice tea, we discussed as much of the weather, town, city, history of the area, etc. there was left to discuss, and we just sat there looking at each other. In a move that would have made Donna proud I spoke up. “You and Aunt Margaret have a great relationship, what’s your advice?”

  Uncle Steff gave that some thought, sizing me up. Knowing something of my past and current relationship with Breen, it was one thing to be nice to me because I was Breen’s friend, but it was something entirely different answering this question.

  “Um, give me a moment. Dave, when I was young I gave a lot of concern to becoming mature. You know, talking like I was mature, wearing the right clothes in public…that’s the best example. I wore a suit to the bank, I wore a short sleeve white shirt and tie to go shopping, that’s the way adult men dressed, so that’s how I dressed."

  "One day, not long after Aunt Margaret and I married, I was dressed for work, suit and tie, and Aunt Margaret was standing by the kitchen door waiting for the off to work goodbye kiss. I remember it like it was yesterday. I gave her a peck on the cheek and she reaches up, grabs my tie, right at the base, good grip on it, pulls my head down level to hers, and places a finger on my lips to keep me from talking. ‘Tisk, tisk,’ she tells me, ‘tisk, tisk, mister, you may wear a suit and tie to work and have sights on an office with your name on the door, but don’t you ever lose sight of me. I don’t care if you’re a hundred and five, when you kiss me it better be like a teenager in love’.”

  “That moment we kissed with the passion of two teenagers. You know, now don’t repeat this, cause I’ll deny it, Aunt Margaret was right. I’m going to be 79 in two months and my bride will be - that’s not important - let’s just say younger than me. Age and maturity has nothing to do with how young you feel here in your heart,” tapping his heart for emphasis. “We may have joints that ache, but that’s nothing how my teenage heart aches when I am away from her.”

  I was floored that he was so candid with me.

  About 2 PM – just before I went back to the motel for a few hours - I was discussing with Uncle Steff ways to secretly terminate the dogs, Breen called and said everything was fine. Uncle Steff was pleased, smiled to himself. Later, as he sorted out the day’s mail, he made a to-the-point comment, “Dave, Breen and her aunt are two peas in a pod,” and left it at that.

  When I arrived back at the motel I saw the light on the phone flashing to alert me to a message. There were three messages from Donna, all the same “Need to talk, CALL!” I did.

  Donna jumped right into the conversation, “Do you remember the day you told me about Breen coming back into your life?”

  “Yes, but what has that to do with urgent call me messages?”

  “I need to tell you something and don’t interrupt!”

  “Okay, but can we be a little less melodramatic?”

  “OK...Dave...sorry. Do you remember the Saturday we met and you told me about you and Breen bumping into each other?”

  “Yes Donna, I remember you telling me to treat every woman as someone special, all women in their own right were Barbie dolls.”

  “Thanks Dave, that’s what I need to talk about. Well, not just the Barbie doll part, but...don’t know where to start.” ‘Don’t know’ was a sign Donna was in deep thought, her cue to ‘listen, please just listen.’

  “I had stayed home on Friday with a cold. Okay, to set the record straight, I had been home because I did not want to trudge to work in the downpour. Spent the day going through my collection of newspapers. You know how, for good intensions, I subscribe to four papers. However, for an assortment of excuses I had neglected to read any papers for over a week.”

  Donna liked to read newspapers like most people read novels. For Donna, papers are a window to the ever changing human race; from human interest events, too nice to know information, like how to make a salad from six types of apples, to the ads for clothes.

  “That day you called me about Breen, Saturday, I had been looking out the window of my apartment when I saw the first rays of sunshine in three days. Remember it had rained so hard the day before and I had thought about calling the local church to see if they were taking Ark reservations.”

  That Saturday morning the sun was peeking through the clouds and the rains had moved north to pester another town.

  “I needed to get out of the apartment and you gave me a purpose to my travels, the red dress.”

  Now I was at a total loss, but knew better than to interrupt her chain of thought.

  “I had a mountain of work piling up at the office and since receiving the first crank letter I had found it difficult to concentrate on Fred. Regardless of my concerns at work I was preparing to move the Fred relationship into high gear, thus the red dress.

  “As I pictured myself in the red dress I thought such inspiration, country music was dangerous. But all the blame was not yours, it was also Fred’s because he is so much like you. Fred thinks too much about love, and I decided he needed to be jumpstarted into the next phase of our relationship. Poor Fred, like you, he is so unaware of the manipulative nature of a woman in love! The phone rang and I remember hopping across the room trying to put on my sock while grabbing for the phone. It was you.”

  I told her, “I remembered the conversation. You had answered ‘And speaking of Dave, good morning!’ I think the exchange went something like ‘Excuse me, but how did you know?’ To your ‘No excuses, you ran out of them years ago. Just a guess, I was thinking about you.’”

  “And you ask
ed if I had Voodoo.”

  “Then Miss Sarcasm says ‘Actually I was thinking that I would give you one last chance to marry me, but never mind, Mandy said you were terrible in the sack.’ Such nonchalance before morning coffee took me by surprise.”

  “You did not barb back very well Dave.”

  “I know, and you sensed something was up and decided to test me with, ‘Mandy said you left the light on, something about your shoe being eaten by her dog.’”

  Donna counters, “And you were so flustered you stuttered something like,” mock whinny voice, 'First off, you have never spoken to Mandy, who by the way would never own a dog, much less let one in the bedroom, and secondly that was not Mandy it was...forget it!’ Touchy that morning, weren’t you?”

  “Donna, I called to tell you I needed some advice, and based on your response to my plea I wondered which sister was home, the good one or the evil stepsister. Then you stepped into the good one’s personality asking, ‘How serious?'"

  I said very.

  "And was it ‘Work, love, or sports?’"

  "‘Love."

  “But I did say the doctor was in, didn’t I?”

  “No, you said the doctor has an opening; you paused, then asked if I was buying lunch.”

  “And all you offered was dessert!”

  “But you agreed, and said let’s meet at Page & Cup.”

  “Well, I thought at the time meeting you at my favorite coffee haunt would be good for both of us, because as I told you I needed your advice as well. Wanted to know if the red dress I had bought to wear when I went out with Fred the next day was appropriate. Of course you responded ‘Appropriate? Appropriate for what? Besides, I’ve only met Fred once.’ Dave, I thought it was obvious, appropriate for entrapment, why else would I wear it!”

  Donna pauses, she kind of ‘hummmms’ to herself, then “No sooner had we sat down, you launch into the story of Breen walking back into your life. Talk about an eye opener. Damn Dave.” She started laughing and to explain the humor, “No, not what you said, but at my pun, because while listening to your story of Breen, I kept an eye on your peach pie, ordered with good intentions, but from your expression it was apparent you would probably not eat it. That’s why I ordered tea, which came with a large gingersnap cookie, leaving room for the pie you would eventually shove across the table to me.”

  Real interruption time, “is the peach pie important?”

  “No, just adding flavor to the conversation.”

  “That’s adding color, flavor is for cooking.”

  “Anyway! You continued your saga of Breen and I enjoyed the pie at your expense, literally and figuratively. But, I also began to silently wonder if you and I had grown old. Breen was from the past. How long ago is ‘past?’ Or, when do memories of the past become ‘once upon a time’ events that took place so many years ago the events have lost their physical properties? Did Sleeping Beauty wake up to only find a Prince Charming who was a generation younger and unable to relate to the life she had before the deep sleep? That troubled me, now divorced and wondering if the physical and mental reflection I see each morning in the mirror is the same vision the world sees. What did Fred see when he looked at me? That’s why in typical ‘Donna obtuse style’ I asked has Breen physically changed? And you answered honestly. Then you hesitated, realizing you had almost missed the intent of my question. You said ‘this has to do with you, doesn’t it?’ Yeah, I wanted to know if I had changed.”

  “Dave I know I had changed over time; see that’s why when you described Breen as a Barbie doll I was still mentally battling the thoughts of aging thanks to your prior comments about Breen. I had listened to enough. If anyone else would have been across from me I would have quieted-up and let the silence speak for my contempt. But this was Dave and the thought of Dave wanting to find his Breen still perfect in the face of the years, as if she were Sleeping Beauty waking up in the arms of Prince Charming, was too much. I forgot myself and...okay, I want you to know, I allowed my true feelings for you take control, thinking ‘damn Dave, now I’m too old for you!’ Guess I jumped in with both feet and defended not only myself, but women in general.”

  What was going on here? I was starting to get concerned that Donna was making a last effort pitch for me. “You told me every woman is important, every woman was a Barbie doll...Love Breen because she is special to you, but treat her as you would all women.”

  “Dave I knew I caught you off guard...guess today as well, but it brought you down to earth. We’re still brother and sister, cheek kisses and no groping when you hug me”

  “When have I ever groped you?”

  “Lighten up Dave,” she chuckled at that. “When I climbed down from the soapbox I was thankful the part about women in general had hidden my true words from your ears.”

  She started talking slower, as if thinking out loud, “I left the Page & Cup angry with myself for letting you get to me like that, and driving home I was plagued with thoughts of self-doubt. Why did my heart keep coming back to you, you did nothing consciously to reignite these flames of desire. After all this time I still loved you. Was this any different from your love for Breen all these years? Lot’s to get off my chest here, so hang on. And get thoughts of my breast out of your mind! Wait; that was not a very good witticism for several reasons, which will become apparent.”

  “So why was I slipping into a red dress? What reason did I have to feel doubts about the growing relationship with Fred? That night while reading a woman’s magazine I saw an article on breast enhancement. I suddenly dropped the magazine on the bed and stared into the far corner of the bedroom, emotionally lost. For the third time in my life I admitted to myself that I had allowed my confidence to be shaken. The first time was just before I met you at Nancy’s wedding. Thankfully I did meet you and our relationship was instrumental in my confidence returning. The second was when Cal broke my heart. Even when my confidence took a hit when Cal ‘found someone cuter’ you were there to prop me up. But not the night of the red dress, you were lost to me, blinded by your quest for Breen. That’s what I was thinking; of course it was not true.”

  “So, as the needle said to the thread, I looked at the before and after pictures that accompanied the article on breast enhancement. I asked myself what is it men find attractive about the woman in the picture. I had never worried about my body because I am naturally slender and keep in shape. OK, I have small breasts; but I am fully aware that I fill out a dress with firmness and curves that can strike a raw nerve in women I meet for the first time. Vain, sure. I put down the magazine and turned out the reading light next to the bed, then remembering that I had forgotten the bathroom light. As I reached in to turn off the bathroom light I saw my profile in the vanity mirror. Is that why they call it a vanity? Dave, this is when thoughts of breast enhancement, what had started out as an ‘insider joke,’ became serious.”

  “A few evenings later, the day of your lunch date with Breen, you came over for dinner. We talked about your lunch experience. I used the rose blush bra incident to open the door to your thoughts on breast enhancement. Thankfully you said the idea was a non-starter, as had two of my good female friends at work. Dave you made sense and I value your opinions because you are always honest with me. Still, I thought, what did Fred think?”

  “Which brings us to today. I’m not at home, that’s why I asked you to call the cell phone.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Fred’s parent’s house, I flew down on Thursday. Can you stand another long story?”

  “Of course.” Strange, she did not tell me that she was going. Was that a good sign, independence from my influence, or a bad sign, a rash decision? No, from the last half hour it became obvious that Donna had not rushed into this. Hope her cell phone battery holds out.

  “The cab was late, more than a half hour late, and I was pacing in front of the apartment window. I had chosen to wait inside, a good th
ing because the weather had turned damp; rain was forecasted later in the day. I was not sure if it was the fact I would now be late arriving at the airport or the pending rain that had pushed up my aggravation? Neither issue mattered in the long run, for I knew the stress of meeting Fred’s parents for the first time was paramount. Yep, going to meet Mom and Pop and I wished for the hundredth time I had taken Fred’s advice and got the car fixed, ‘it’s the battery, just get a new battery.’ But no, I am now waiting for a cab and I knew full well that it was my defiance that kept me from taking his advice; defiance against aging. You are right, I hate getting older and I allow no one, not you, not Breen, nor Fred make me face reality. What the car battery has to do with age was irrelevant I thought as the cab finally pulled to a stop in front of the complex. It was simply not admitting that anything, man or machine, wore out or aged.”

  This was an interesting turn of events, Donna had voiced that she recognized her abhorrence with getting older. And I recognized the conversation, if this was a conversation - the what little I was adding - was only half way there.

  “So I’m settled in the cab and now safely on my way to the airport for the flight to Florida; where I am by the way. I chuckled to myself at the thought of trashing the ‘meet the parents’ trip and hoping a plane to Vegas. But no, this I would do for Fred. Even if there was not a Fred, you were too wrapped-up in Breen to drop everything and go to Vegas with me. ‘Fred, you’re stuck with me, displeasure, brooding mood and all.’ I did miss Fred and, regardless of the depressive thoughts of meeting his folks, I knew it meant being with him and that was what I wanted.”

  “Donna, hold on a sec,” I put the phone down and answered my cell phone. It was the young girl from the kennel. “Is it okay to take Dog swimming in the owner’s pool?” Damn, I get the Ritz of Small Ville and Dog gets spa deluxe. “Sure, just keep an eye on any alcoholic drinks, he’s a sloppy drunk.” “You’re so funny, thanks.” Relieved there was nothing wrong, “Okay, I’m back. Kennel business.”

  “She still likes to call you?”

  “She is twenty-two!”

  “And your point?”

  “Do you want to change the subject, or continue with your tale?"

  “T a i l?”

  “Story, Donna, STORY.”

  “Ok; touchy. Thankfully I made the flight. I was so stressed that I drifted off to sleep almost the same time we reached cruising altitude. My dreams were of New York and jazz clubs, of dinning at a small café, of the first time I really kissed, kissed you. Of how, not long ago, just before your dinner party - when you stopped over and left your ice cream melting in your car - I told you of my jealousy of Breen; of losing you to Breen. Sure I couched it in terms of friendship, brother and sister, of underlining love, but hiding my true feelings, the feelings I had that New Year’s Eve, the kiss, the one that lasted for what seemed forever. You said twenty minutes, I said less than five, but I had finally told you I enjoyed it. Then I warned you off, to protect myself, to protect you, and because I like Breen, honestly like, but nevertheless envy Breen.”

  “Fred was waiting at the airport entrance hall, flowers and a box from Cartier. Thank you Dave, cause I know my Bro helped him out! He is so much like you Dave. Is it wrong to say that’s what first attracted me, that’s what gave me the desire to deepen our relationship”

  “I only told him what time Cartier closed. He did everything else, and I really had no idea what he was buying.”

  “Sure! I do love the ring!”

  For Donna, a relationship had to be a partnership. I would never have been a partnership, I am companionship. Partnership was the whole extent of the heavens, Toto caelo. It was an ideological difference from companionship, not the traditional definition of words. I wanted to share life equally with Breen, but Breen and I are too strong of will to cede total ground; a line never to be crossed. Fred never doubted his love for Donna and wanted to share the air he breathed with her. He also knew how to please her with word and deed, with silence and touch, with a single rose or the sapphire and diamond ring that Fred had just given her. I did not lie; Fred told me what he purchased when he returned from New York.

  “Tired of listening? Cause I need to tell you about the billboard”

  “No. A little confused. What billboard?”

  “I haven’t told you yet!”

  “OK, continue telling me about the story.”

  “You thinking about tails?”

  “Donna!”

  “Breen’s going to pick up the job of keeping you in line; won’t miss it cause I have Fred! So, we were in the rental heading for Mom and Pop’s condo, easing down the highway, passing small communities and shopping centers, when a billboard picture of some guy caught my eye and triggered mind association. Once, when I was twenty-four and at a party at the Mayflower in D.C., a Congressman propositioned me. I was not impressed that he had a room at the hotel. One night stands are demeaning, but preplanned one night stands are more than demeaning. It was poor taste and a sign of an inferiority complex. ‘You’re passing up a shot at a Congressman?’ he had the nerve to say, and with an air of importance, I might add. I responded ‘see that person over there,’ pointing to a way too short skirted, twenty- if she was that old - something; ‘impress her. If you don’t have the balls to be a real man, at least proposition a girl, not a woman!’ The sarcasm went over the guy’s head, but I felt good. A year later I read about the jerk being busted for picking up a prostitute working the bottom end of South Capitol Street. I’ve always wondered if he had planned to take her to the Mayflower.”

  “Okay, so here’s the rest of the story. I’m thinking about the Congressman and Fred brings me back to today, ‘please don’t bow to Mom, she hates that!’ My retort was ‘Freddy, the last time I bowed to anyone was at my twenty-first birthday party and I was not being polite, get the point?’ He ceded the point, called me ‘Miss Pun,’ and said that you had warned him about my ruthlessness at the points game. You seem to relish the opportunity to pay me back for giving advice to Breen, so we’re going to have a talk when I get back!”

  “Paybacks can be sweet.”

  “Dave, I love Fred and I would never allow myself to get too far ahead of him in the points game,” pause, “sorry, I have been wondering around in the wilderness haven’t I?”

  “That’s alright. I’m the last person to keep a story short. Is this a story? I’m still confused.”

  “Dave, the one time I felt that you had let me down was your failure to read Cal; no, you read Cal, you just failed to warn me. I know you regretted not stepping in and trying to persuade me not to get so involved. By then it was too late, for I had become too ‘in love’ to hear anything you had to say about Cal. In truth, why would you know anymore then me that Cal’s professed love would fade with time. Still, I silently harbored feelings of being let down. Maybe it was guilt transferred. Maybe I sensed my own failings in you, because we mirror each other. I honestly felt you had let me down. However, this feeling would never come between us, time has already proven that. What the ‘Cal’ experience did was cause me to rely on my own instincts about Fred. And as for you and Breen, Dave, I said as much in the words ‘can I trust you to be alone in the world.’ There. Done.”

  “Wait! All this was a lead up to you and me being on our own in love land?”

  “Oh, the Congressman, I forgot about the Congressman. When I met Fred’s parents, I’ll tell you that story tomorrow...”

  “Not tomorrow,” but nicely, “I have plans.”

  “OK, damn, what a party poop. The guy on the billboard is the son of the bitch!”

  “Donna, I doubt that, you met the guy...a few years ago.”

  “Nice recovery Dave. No, not the old guy, but the son of the old guy.”

  “No shit. Donna...do me a favor.”

  “Sure.”

  “Where is Fred?”

  “He’s playing golf and having dinn
er with his dad, why?”

  “Because you called me to say you miss him, you need him next to you, and you’re afraid he may not spend his every moment with you.”

  Quiet. “You think you’re right, don’t you?”

  “Am I?”

  “Yeah; I had a real bout of scares there didn’t I?”

  “Donna, the favor you said you would do, this is it. Do not drive to the country club or call him there, do not eat any junk food, and do not call anyone else. Just take your right hand and place a kiss on the tips of your fingers. Do it. Now, make a fist and hold the kiss. That’s a kiss from your brother to remind you that I will always be there for you, family.”

  “That’s the favor?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Dave, thanks for listening to me.”

  “Thanks for calling me, Sis.”

  After I hung up the phone I had to admit that I was still confused, but knew that I had been there for her. She had unburdened herself with the last thoughts of me and was now totally Fred. I was happy for Donna and I hoped the same for Breen and myself.

  I looked at my watch and realized I was going to be late getting back to Aunt Margaret’s.

  As I drove back I could not help but think about what Donna said, about the past. Breen was from the past. How long ago is ‘past?’ Or, when do memories of the past become ‘once upon a time’ events that took place so many years ago the events have lost their physical properties? Did Sleeping Beauty really wake up to only find a Prince Charming who was a generation younger and unable to relate to the life she had before the deep sleep?

  —////—