Chapter 7
7AM, my alarm goes off and I jumpstart into action. I lack the care in preparing myself for work as I previously had. It was a matter of pulling my hair into a ponytail and grabbing what smelled the least foul off my bed room floor. I no longer cared about caking my face with make up. My obvious lack of self awareness manifested in Ken’s morning commentary, “Rough night? Or rough morning? No, make that rough week.”
I know he was trying to rib me but I was in no mood to jest. A tight smile formed on my lips. His bright smile turned to a serious note, “Listen, Fiona if you feel that you need to take some time to gather things, just do that. You don’t look that great lately.”
“No I know I know, I mean when I’m here I feel sound, its when I am at home. Things just creep up in here and I can’t get them out.” I knock on my head, and a hollow echo sounds back: “I think too much.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“She’s probably having the time of her life somewhere with some Greek god and I’m sitting here looking like someone in desperate need of sleep and clean clothes!”
“Yeah.” Ken was nice, but he lacked that necessary nurturing capabilities to actually care.
“Hey thanks for listening!” I send Robert an instant message to go for drinks, he quickly replies with a happy face. This means I need to shop on my lunch break, I could afford to forgo the extra calories anyways.
“Wow, what a change!” Ken points a stern finger in my direction. I had come back from lunch in a cute black shirt dress and ankle boots. I had run to the drug store, and picked up mascara and a brown eyeliner to smoke my eyes. The look was finished by a dab of lip gloss, I was ready to forget about my worries.
The moment Robert agreed to meet for drinks, I instantly felt my heart lift. I just needed to talk and let a few things go, that is what I needed and then the apartment would not feel so weighted.
When I get to the pub, he’s sitting in our regular booth. Today, he is dressed more casually, compared to his normal work attire. He reminds me of the ambitious student I once knew. He gets up and softly brushes his lips against my cheek and gives me a hug. .
Pitchers later and there is nothing in the world that could ruin the great time that I was having. “So what’s this whole thing you have going on,” I thrust my hand out towards him, palm out in an attempt to highlight his dress. “I had a short day, so I went home to get more comfortable. I know, it’s a little out of my usual.” He laughs a little uncomfortably.
“No, I like it. You look younger, and more like Robert.”
“Well thank you. You look a little drunk.” I was. “No, I can still drink you under the table, my University days are not that long gone.”
“That is evident. So what’s eating you kid?” He always knew when to change the subject, he started the conversion in another direction to ease the tension.
“I miss Kay!” The tears were forming again.
“She still isn’t home? Christ, I thought she was back, just being her usual self.”
“I know!” They begin to flow from the corners of my eyes.
“Hey, hey, hey, not here. Who knows what she’s up too. Remember last summer when she took off and she came back 3 days later claiming to be in love? She probably found love again. Don’t worry.”
I wipe my eyes, I try to slow my heart beat, I take deep breaths and attempt to focus. My buzz is gone. The world comes into focus. “I really am scared this time, its just something, I don’t know what it is. It just feels different. It gets me…I just don’t know what it is, that gets me though.”
“Because you are a good friend.” He smiles at me and brushes a tear off my face. My body tenses and the hairs on my arm stand up. “I think I need to get that buzz back.” I manage a smile and he waves for the waiter.
Perhaps there is a sense of duty that a man feels when he sees a woman in pain, be it physical or emotional. Dating back to the prehistoric times when man was protector, provider, and ruled the roost. Now with the induction of the feminist regime, where women are strong, independent, fearless beings, men will take any cry for help to come to assistance. I much suspected that this was the case with Robert, not that I care. For a split moment in my life I will let down my ‘hear me roar’ agenda and bask in the glory of a man doting on me. It is for this reason that I believe women keep men, this and sex.
It is not nearly late enough when Robert decides that it is time for him to walk me home, and then catch a cab back to his place. He walks me up the six flights of stairs and helps me search in my gigantic purse for my keys. I have three keys with eight key chains, and still I manage to spend five minutes in the morning and at night digging them out. After many unsuccessful attempts he prevails, holding the key up as if he were Arthur who had just pulled the sword from it’s stone. “Cute,” my words are barely English. They would not even pass for French. I keep my mouth shut out of fear of forever being viewed as a complete imbecile, which is probably already too late.
At this point, Robert has forgotten entirely about me, as he attempts to open the three locks on my front door. Eventually he is triumphant. He swings open the door with a loud thud as it hit’s the adjacent wall. And we both stumble through the threshold. The moment I enter into the main room, I begin to sober up. My spine straightens stiff and I feel uneasy.
“Where’s your phone?”
“Please don’t go.” I am not pleading in a desperate come hither tone, but in one that states I do not want to be left alone.
“This will not look good for either of us if I do.”
“I don’t care. We know, and no one will know if we don’t tell them. Please Rob, please. I just need one good nights sleep.” I give him the puppy dog eyes, no one can resist the puppy dog eyes.
“Fine!” He throws his arms up and plops down on the couch. I squeal with delight and throw myself on top of him. “You’re the best!”
“Yeah, well don’t forget it!”
After washing up and attempting to find him something to wear to bed that might fit him, he decides to stay with his boxers. Of course I find myself all bundled up in baggy pyjama pants and a tank top. We pull out the sofa bed and I find blankets and pillows in the hall closet, I make sure to grab my spare set. When I come back he’s searching through my DVD collection for something to watch.
“It’s too early to go to bed.”
“Sure, nothing too scary. Want a beer?”
“That’s my girl.” I make my way to the fridge and pull out four beer, we can easily drink them before falling asleep.
“Here you go…thanks by the way.”
“What for?”
“For being my hero!” I make my voice shrill and high pitch on purpose, “no, this seriously means a lot to me.”
“I know. I can tell.” I nustle myself into the crock in his arm. He has chosen a comedy to my relief. As the television screen lights up the dark room around us. I feel at easewithin my own place that I have not felt in a long time.
“Fi?”
“Uh huh?” my answer is mumbled and half asleep, “am I crushing you?”
“Yeah.”
I finally make myself comfortable by throwing my torso over his lap. “So how is your freak doing?” Robert understood that I meant his girlfriend.
“Good good. We are taking a break, apparently I’m not the greatest of boyfriends.”
“I could have told you that, with the amount of cheating you do, I never knew why you wanted to settle down. I mean you can’t love her? Can you?” I twist myself over and look up at him, my eyes big. He seems deep in thought, as if I had just asked him the most thought provoking question he has ever heard.
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“Then why do you cheat?”
“Just because I cheat doesn’t mean I don’t love her.” The famous last words of a cheater.
“Really? I would take that as a pretty good indicator.”
“Well I thought I did, but there is just too much temptation.” His facial features tighten and it is evident that he is not proud of himself. I sit myself up right, wrap my arms around his neck and look him straight in the eye, “trust me. You don’t love her. You’ll know.”
“And how do you know?” His question is one that is meant to counter my confidence.
“I just know. Now shut up! I’m smart.”
In that one instant, there was a charge that passed between the two of us. It was as if we were both seeing each other for the first time, dawning on us both that there could possibly be an attraction. He leans his face closer to mine and I reciprocate the action. Our lips brush together ever so slightly, feeling out what lay before us. I reach my hands up through his blond waves and place my hands on his face. I open my eyes and look directly into his, our breathing is matched and neither say a word, scared that this moment could be lost as fast as it had occurred. The softness of it, is quickly replaced with our hot lips feeling out each other’s mouths. He presses firmly against me and I pull myself in tighter. His hands explore my curves and his lips linger from mine to explore my neck and chest. My mind draws blanks as I simply enjoy my body’s excitement. I tilt my head back and arch my spine. I open my eyes and enjoy the stretch. A light flashes and the mirror behind the couch reflects the room around us, in the background going down the hall I can see the dark outline of a figure.
“Kay!” I scream. Robert releases his grip around my waist and I fall to the ground. I jump up and move to the lamp to provide a better view. “Kay!” I scream it again, my voice is shocking to myself. I sound more scared then happy. With the lights shining brightly throughout the apartment no one is there. “I…I thought I saw Kay…sorry.” He just smiles at me, it is evident that I have ruined the moment.
THUMP!
My heart jumps into my throat and I crumble to the ground. He leans forward and wraps his arms around me.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, BANG.
I pull myself to my feet, against the will of my knees and race down the hall. Robert close behind me. I throw open the door to Kay’s room and finger for the light switch. Brightness drowns the room, and I wait for my eyes to readjust.
As I peer around the room the hair on the back of my neck stands straight. My eyes sweep across the room and at a first I see nothing. Then as I focus my attention to the details, I notice it. The many pictures that littered her dress tops, and shelves lie face down. A large photo of Kay lies on the ground, beneath the spot where it had been hung on the wall. A large crack can be traced through the center of her face distorting her image. My heart remains lodged in my throat, and I feel Robert’s arms grip my shoulders. In a sober voice he leans close to my ear and whispers, “want to crash at my place?” I do not dare utter a word. I shake my head “yes” and we back out of the room and shut the door. Beneath the door the light seeps through.