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The Difference

Page 3

by C. D'Angelo


  “I don’t blame her.”

  “Hey! Watch it, mister. I may not take you to the re-release of Titanic in 3D next month.”

  “I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t go!” He puts his hands together in prayer form. “Please let me go and drool over Mr. DiCaprio with you.”

  “Since you asked so nicely, yes you may come to witness him in 3D. You lucky man, you.”

  “I’m just glad you are interested in something.”

  I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. What is that supposed to mean? I gaze into his eyes, frozen for words. Maybe he’s not so clueless.

  “What’s wrong? I’m saying I’m glad you love it so much. Keep reading the piles of books you have. Keep telling me about your memories of checking out library books on the Titanic as a kid and how you remain fascinated. I’m looking forward to our movie date night. I want you to have a passion again.”

  A passion.

  Again?

  The more he speaks, the more I withdraw within myself. I know logically he is rooting for my one interest at this time, but it still hurts. He has noticed what I’ve been feeling. I didn’t think I’ve been that obvious. But who wouldn’t notice me not wanting to leave the apartment much, I guess? We used to walk in Central Park, ride bikes, and even took a few easy exercise classes. I bet that’s why he’s excited for the movie. I muster up words.

  “Yeah, me too.” My fake smile moves across my face. The shift in my mood is probably noticeable, but I’ll try to keep up an act.

  As dinner progresses, I keep him talking about himself, so we aren’t focused on me. But all I can think about is the topic I would love to avoid. I thought the more margaritas I have the better, but they aren’t washing away the nerves that constantly remind me of what I need to do, no matter how much I drink. My appetite is minimal and a major stomachache is present. I must find the courage to get started with the conversation before dessert time. Yes, that is my time limit. I’ve decided.

  As soon as we order dessert, my heart beats faster and my palms sweat again.

  Calm down, calm down, calm down.

  This mantra isn’t working. No! It’s having the opposite effect.

  “Rachel?” Brian raises an eyebrow.

  I should be used to that look, but this isn’t normal from him. Other people, yes, Brian, nope. Help!

  My fingers tremble and my legs go limp, all the way down to my toes. Maybe I should try some deep breathing. Go. I attempt to inhale, but my lungs reject the air.

  “What’s going on? You look strange.” He reaches out and puts his hand on mine.

  Oh no, I can’t hear anything. What is he saying? What’s happening to me?

  “Are you okay? Rach?” Brian’s lips move but there’s no sound. He leans closer to me over the table, our faces almost touching, his eyes wide and alert. He grabs my shoulders and shakes me.

  Everything around me slows then the room spins and the lights go out.

  Psst, here’s where we started. It’s so embarrassing, but read on. I’ll imagine you holding my hand for support as I lay it all out for you and cringe.

  My eyes open and I feel like I just had the best night’s sleep of my life. But I’m not at home in my comfortable bed and this is definitely more like a nightmare. I gasp and try to sit up. I’m on the dirty, sticky floor of the restaurant. My head is still spinning but I keep blinking to try to look at the unfamiliar faces that surround me.

  My gaze lands on Brian and I hold my breath. “What happened?!” My eyes grow large.

  “You fainted. Are you okay?” Brian is on his knees, leaning over me.

  “I, I guess.” I rub my head. “Ow.”

  “You fell off the chair before I could reach you. Is your head okay? I didn’t want to move you just in case. How many fingers am I holding up?”

  “Two.” The margarita signaling pops into my head. I shake it, both for getting rid of that thought and to be more alert. “I think my head is okay. It just hurts a little in this one spot.” I place my hand over the crown of my head.

  “Good.” He takes a deep sigh. “You scared me to death!”

  “I’m sorry.” I accept a glass of water from the waiter. Another waiter tries to hand me a cold washcloth. I look up at the generous man and say, “I’m fine, but thank you.”

  Well, it’s settled. I can’t ever return to this place. I’m mortified!

  I get up slowly and grab my purse from the chair. “Brian, can we get the check and leave now?” I need to leave yesterday if it were possible.

  “Yes, let’s do that.”

  He takes care of the bill while I walk to the front door to wait for him. I look back to make sure he sees where to meet me and wish I could disappear on this spot. Just let me sink into the earth and transport back to my bed.

  He comes over to me a few minutes later, puts his arm around my shoulder, and leads me out the door. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do we need to get you to a hospital?”

  “I promise, but thanks.” I lean my head on his shoulder as we start walking to the train. It feels like years passed from ordering dessert until now. I don’t think I have ever been this embarrassed in my life. I am such an idiot. And…here come the tears. Hold them in, Rachel. Don’t make it worse.

  “So, what was wrong, Rach? Why did you faint? Have you ever fainted before?” Brian is going a mile a minute with the questions as we walk, which doesn’t slow down my heart rate or breathing. I can hardly verbalize my racing thoughts at this moment, never mind try to translate them to another person. I separate myself from him to get some air.

  “No, I never have. That was so scary. I can’t believe what happened!” I speed up my pace, leading him to keep up with me, unable to make eye contact. I’m such a fool. Who faints like that in public? Oh. My. God. “Let’s just get home.”

  Focus remains on my feet, speedily moving toward the comfort of my apartment. In fact, I refuse to let my eyes off of my feet. They are safe to look at and help me to see the stable ground below. If looking at the ground means I’m not lying on it again, that’s a plus.

  “Why don’t we just get a cab? I don’t know if going on the train is the best idea for you after what you’ve been through tonight. You don’t even like it when you’re feeling good.”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s a good idea.”

  He places his hand under my chin and gently moves it up so I can make eye contact with him. “Let me help you. Just let me. I want to.”

  My eyes fill with tears again.

  “Thank you.” I sniffle and look down.

  Once I am sitting in bed under my silky sheets and fluffy comforter, surrounded by soft pillows, and drinking warm mint tea Brian brought me, I have clearer thoughts. I am breathing deeper now. Ahh.

  I can’t believe I nearly had a panic attack for trying to start a conversation with this sweet, caring man. Wait, was that a panic attack? I shut my eyes tightly to banish the thought. If I think about it more, I’ll have another attack for sure. Next thought, please.

  When I open my eyes, I see Brian staring at me. He slips into bed next to me and asks, “Are you absolutely sure you are okay? That was a nasty fall.”

  “Nasty in more ways than one. I’m permanently scarred from touching the germs on the floor. There aren’t enough times I can wash my hands.” I pretend to gag.

  “Yeah.” He laughs. “Well, let me tuck you in so you have sweet dreams. We can figure out things more tomorrow. You should rest tonight.” He brings the comforter up to my face and pats it around my upper body so I’m snug.

  I smile at his show of support and nod. “Thanks again for being there for me tonight. I’m glad I didn’t have to deal with that alone. I’m lucky to have you.”

  But will we last forever? It’s torture to stop the thoughts. I sigh and roll over to get the remote. “Want to watch a movie? I’m
not ready to go to sleep yet.”

  “Maybe Titanic is on!” he jokes.

  “We can only hope.”

  I channel surf until we agree on a movie. My mind continues to drift, though. I love that we had time together tonight. The warmth from it felt familiar and safe for a moment or two. I must admit that I also love the attention from him at home. I just wish I didn’t faint to get it.

  Chapter 3

  Feeling confused and sweaty, I open my eyes to see my family room. I rub them to make sure they aren’t lying to me. I am in my apartment in 2012, not on the Titanic in 1912. To orient myself, I drop a foot off the side of the couch and make sure I feel the hardwood floor. That’s definitely floor, not freezing water.

  It’s all coming back to me now. Oh God. It’s been over twenty-four hours since my embarrassing—and now this. A girl can only take so much.

  “You’re up early for a Sunday.” Brian appears in front of me holding a mug of steaming coffee.

  I let out a groan and blink with force. My eyes feel like a thousand pounds.

  “I didn’t want to wake you to come to bed when I got home last night from playing poker. It was late and you looked like you were in a deep sleep.”

  “Yeah… I had a wild dream that I was on the Titanic.”

  “Well, I can see why. Looks like your, what was it, TOD is acting up?” He laughs.

  I grin and sit up, wrapping my blanket around me. “I have to stop reading about the Titanic or watching Titanic related movies or shows so late at night. I’ve been having more and more dreams about the ship, but none as vivid as this one last night. I was a passenger!”

  He sits down next to me, after moving a few Titanic books out of the way. “It’s no wonder when you put this into your brain before bed. Look at all this.” He waves both of his palms over at the special editions of magazines, the coffee table books, and the novels that support my habit.

  “You have to hear about this dream, though!”

  “I’m ready. Do you need some coffee for this?”

  “I’ll never reject that.” I smirk.

  He gets up to go to the kitchen.

  I turn around on the couch and start spewing.

  “Okay, it was freezing and I was walking along the rail of a ship I knew is the Titanic. I could feel the smooth, white railings. It was weird because I knew I was dreaming, but it felt so real!”

  “Oh yeah?” Brian hands me a warm mug of energy and sits next to me again.

  “Thanks. Yeah, I knew it was going to sink, but I was pretending to enjoy the day with family and friends, like everything was normal.”

  “Wait a second. Why would you be on a ship? You hate cruises.”

  “I know! I was thinking that in the dream. Get out of my head.” I point to him as if threatening him. He smiles then I go back to staring into space to recall the experience.

  I wrap my blanket tighter around me as I think about tightening my long winter coat in the dream, to shield myself from the frigid weather.

  “I was definitely a first-class passenger because of my upscale beaded dress and heels. And you know I think heels are from hell for their discomfort and the attention they draw, so you know this was not reality.”

  Brian nods and raises his eyebrows.

  “Anyway, the dream skipped to me being in my huge suite, with luggage everywhere; trunks and old-fashioned suitcases as tall as me. Then, there were ornate sconces, elegant linens, and European paintings. My parents were in the room with me, but they weren’t my parents I have now. My best friend from high school was there too. I don’t even know her anymore. It was so strange.” I crinkle my face.

  “That’s how dreams go.” Brian takes a sip of his coffee.

  “So, we were unpacking and I knew it was the first day of the voyage. But I also knew the ship would hit the iceberg and sink that night, even though it was four days from then in the real timeline of events. Then, my friend pulled me by hand to the Turkish baths almost instantly.”

  “To the what?”

  “Oh, they were like a modern-day spa. The dream kept flashing to different parts of the ship. Like I was taking a personal tour. And everyone kept talking about the beauty of the ship and how lucky we were to be sailing on it. I knew otherwise but remained silent.”

  I gulp my coffee and continue. “The day seemed to last forever, as they do in dreams. We were wandering around aimlessly and chatting politely to strangers, when the ship struck something. We were in the hallway at this point, where there were no windows. The jolt made us all fall to the floor. Everyone started to panic and even though I knew what was happening, I was scared too. It felt so real. The time had come, and I knew it. So, I rushed to my suite with my friend to tell my family what just happened, but nobody was here. Where were they? I needed to find them and get off the ship asap! I knew what the lifeboat situation would be like in a few hours.”

  “If anyone knows, you do.”

  I barely hear Brian’s comment. My heart is beating fast remembering what it felt like to be in the dream.

  “My friend and I frantically ran through the decks, calling out my family’s names. Everyone else was running around and screaming as well. Logically, it must have been hours later, but it felt like seconds. I was carrying one modern day suitcase that had essentials in it. I knew I needed it. Finally, we found my parents. They were standing by the edge of the boat and smiling, looking completely calm. Next thing I knew, we were walking onto a lifeboat. We were going to survive. Then, I woke up.”

  I fall back into the back of the couch and bow my head. Why do I feel guilt for living when it was all just a dream? I wasn’t on the ship.

  Brian chimes in, “That was something, Rachel. It sounded intense.”

  “It was.” A tear comes to my eye. “People must have been so scared. I can’t continue to think about it because it makes me too sad.”

  Brian bends toward me and tries to look me in the eye. “It was just a dream. You are safe here.”

  Okay good, he said it too. It feels good to hear it, even though I know the truth already. “Yeah, I’m just tired. I should know better than to stay up, but I couldn’t stop. Titanic sucked me in once again.”

  “When did you get home?” Brian asks. “You don’t like to stay out late.”

  “I know. Maggie also sucked me into staying out with her.” I roll my eyes. “I love her, but you know how it is.”

  “I do. That Mags. Well, let’s eat something and you can fill me in on your night.”

  “Sure, but first tell me about your night.” I follow him to the kitchen and sit on a bar stool at the counter. Harrison wakes from the sound of the stool screeching on the floor.

  “Sorry, Harrison. You can go back to your much needed rest now.”

  He yawns, rolls over, and follows my instruction.

  I’m guzzling my drink this morning. Maybe I need some water. I’m too old for this night owl business. I get up to fill a glass with water while Brian starts pulling out way too many ingredients for my non-morning mind to comprehend. He starts whipping up another complex breakfast I’ve only ever seen on TV.

  “What are you creating today?” The cool water soothes my dry throat as I swallow.

  “I want to try an eggs Florentine omelet with a peach pie smoothie.”

  “How do you come up with this stuff? I’m lucky if I can crack an egg.”

  “You are one strange Italian. Don’t you all like to cook?” He widens his mouth in a playful teasing smile and moves the blender close to him to continue his preparation.

  His comment sends me inward. I have always felt like somewhat of an outcast outside of my family, due to my looks alone. Add on my lack of traditional Italian interests like cooking and the ability of socially superficial conversation and I’m finished. Brian knows this but speaks mindlessly so much of the time.


  All of these thoughts send a sharp pain to my chest. Who says heartbreak isn’t real? I miss Grandpa even more in these times I’m reminded of my differences to normal society. He was the sole person in this world that completely understood me.

  I touch my tangled hair and push it back over my shoulders with a scowl. I look as far from being an Italian woman as one could get and it’s so unfair. Aren’t Italian people always dark skinned with dark, shiny, straight hair, like my dad and Dylan? All the people I’ve known who are Italian looked more like a stereotypical Italian person. I can sometimes hide my internal awkwardness, but I can’t hide how I look. Well, not without gobs of hair product and makeup.

  When Grandpa died in my freshman year of college, everything in my little world started to change. My life lost color as the years went by and now I’m here, feeling more lost by the day. My heart sinks and I look down. Will I ever feel truly happy again?

  “Rachel.” Brian snaps his fingers in front of my face.

  I look up. “Yeah, sorry.” Come back to the present, Rachel.

  “Do you want a straw for your smoothie?”

  “No, that’s okay.” I twirl my pajama pants string and take a deep breath.

  After a few more minutes, he sets breakfast in front of me and comes around the counter to join me. “Dig in.”

  I need to change my thoughts so I don’t stay stuck in them. Do some therapy on yourself, Rachel. “Tell me about your poker night.” I take my first heaping bite. If anything can help me get unstuck, it’s this food. Thank God for a man who cooks.

  “It was fun. Ignacio kept winning and we accused him of cheating. But we all know he’s just a good player. We like to give him a hard time.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you guys at all.” I giggle. “Oh, by the way, these eggs are to die for.”

  “Try the smoothie.”

  I take a sip and my mouth is sent to sweet sugarland. “How did you get it to taste like the crust is in there too?”

  “That’s a chef’s secret.”

  “I won’t be trying it out anyway.” He’s already made that clear. I mumble, “It’s delicious.”

 

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