A Soul Ensnared

Fourteen

July 24, 2013

"I'm bringing lunch to Brent today," Sonya announced, lounging against soft pillows in a little art deco cafe off Kirkwood Avenue. She had dressed for the occasion, wearing her white Keds, a pair of matching white shorts, and a flowing yellow top. It felt necessary to dress airy when visiting the band field. Brent's days started at nine in the morning and ended at nine in the evening. He left his days exhausted, hot, and sweaty. She wanted to be his breath of fresh air. The colors she chose seemed to reflect that choice.

"Are you really going to go through with moving in with him?" Jeannette asked, blurting the question out.

Sonya tucked a leg under her knee, adjusted the pillow behind her, and blew into her coffee mug. She knew her mother was concerned about the timing. "I don't know. On the one hand, we split the cost of the deposit, so I feel like I can't back down now. Plus, we seem to be doing better. Something still bothers me, though it may just be nerves. Maybe it's jealousy? I don't know." She read the worry in her mother's face, and relented. "The messages I read between him and Bernice still worry me. Particularly the one about being forced to move in with me. And then I heard the same remark from Jonathon. Also, there was a mocking tone in Brent's voice when he told the leasing lady we were taking the next step. I wish you could have heard it, Mom. He's apologized, of course, but the fact remains that those things happened." She sighed, fiddling with the rim of her coffee mug. "I just don't understand why he's presenting me this way to other people. I am perfectly happy living in my one bedroom apartment, not having to worry about boxes and moving trucks. Why is he acting like I'm pushing him to live with me against his wishes?"

Jeannette frowned at her daughter's statement. "Could you be misinterpreting the tone, or reading more into it than he intended?" After taking a sip of her latte, she leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Did you hear something else, or are you just worried? You know, I could make a few phone calls. Jonathon's wife and I have always gotten along. Maybe he's spoken to her, or she could ask about what Brent has said behind closed doors?"

Sonya laughed, flapping her hand to ward off her mother's words. "No, Mom. The last thing I want is more gossip floating around. You know how small this community is. You'll talk to his wife, she'll ask Jonathon, and Jonathon will mention to Brent that my mother is asking about us." She sighed, thinking over her problems. "Sometimes I feel like Brent needs to salvage his pride because I haven't been excited about this whole moving in thing. He thought I would leap on the idea, pack my bags, and forget that I have an order. This order isn't me; it's not who I am. If he was doing what I wanted, and not what he wanted, then I'd be staring at an engagement band on my finger."

She sighed, taking another small sip of her latte. It was steaming hot, and she relished the feeling of the liquid as it moved down the back of her throat. "On top of that, between the private messages with Bernice and the casual conversation with Jonathon, I needed time to think. I may have misinterpreted the tone when he spoke to the leasing agent, but I have no doubt about those two instances. They aren't quick to move out of my mind. I keep mulling over them, trying to figure out what bothers me the most. Is it that he's telling his colleagues that I'm forcing him to move in with me, or that he's telling a teenage girl that I'm needy and dependent on him?"

"I mean, both of those instances are worrisome. He shouldn't be doing or saying those things about a woman he claims to love. But, are you still thinking about them because you need something to latch on to, to keep you from moving in with him?" Jeannette asked.

Leaning back against the cushions, Sonya let her head drop against the wall, and stared at her mom. "I don't know. Brent seems to be under the assumption that once we move in together, everything will be rainbows and sunshine, and I'll forget all about my dreams of marriage and children. He wants me to budge on my beliefs, but he's unwilling to budge on his." She sighed. With everything she was feeling, moving in together seemed the least likely choice. If she was being honest with herself, it wasn't his words that bothered her so much as his prior actions with the former receptionist. She addressed that. "I told Brent I wouldn't accuse him of cheating anymore, and that I would work on my jealousy issues. How do I just get over feeling like he cheated on me? How do I stop myself from wondering if he'll do it again? What if I walk into an apartment we share, and find him with another woman—like the leasing agent? What happens if I give up my own personal space, and have nowhere to turn when he eventually finds what he's looking for?"