Every now and then there comes a time in your life where a single action - a single word - changes how people perceive you forever. I’m not going to say if that’s good or bad because I think it goes both ways. The problem is that it isn’t always intentional. Sometimes you’re just reacting and the words spill from your mouth faster than you can think.
And you can feel it. You can see the immediate effect. You can sense that something’s wrong before you even know what’s changed.
I said before I was the side villainess in someone else’s story. To them I was cold and unfeeling. Maybe even snobby. Because the only line I had in that story was “I know.” He called me - not even face to face - to explain how he’d fallen in love. How he’d never felt that way before. How everything was different and he was sorry and that he wanted to live a life without regrets. And that he was choosing her.
I had three words in his story. An almost excited “hello” when I picked up his call, and the quiet “I know” I managed to force out between the giant rocks blocking my throat.
And then I’d hung up.
It was the only choice I had. I couldn’t let him hear me cry. That was too much burden to put on him. Love is a two way street and I couldn’t make him love me. I’d known for months that I loved him more than he loved me, but it still hurt.
Sorry, off track again. Anyway.
I’d agreed to go out for New Year’s Eve. Here I was in another motel room for three nights just to get ready. I’d blown almost all my recent pay on this scuzzy place and spent the first hour just soaking in the shower. Now I had my clothes all spread out across both double beds and faced another serious issue.
Dressing up would remind everyone that I wasn’t some cold fish villain. It would remind them that I had a good background, good looks, and say clearly that I wasn’t just disposable trash.
It would also state loud and clear that I’ve moved on.
Dressing down would probably mean less people bothering me. They’d remember that I don’t have a steady home and that I work unusual hours. It also felt like I’d be begging for sympathy. People are jerks, and I know how they see things.
As usual I called up Carol, my saving grace when she’s deviled me into doing something. “I have nothing to wear,” I greeted as soon as she picked up the phone. I tightened the towel around my chest, put her on speaker phone, and found some underwear to slip into for today.
“Well hello to you too.”
“I can’t go to the party,” I said. I ignored her quip while searching for my favorite jeans. The ones that didn’t fit too tight and didn’t show half my butt when I bent down. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“You have a whole closet full of clothes,” Carol snorted. “Granted, half of them are frumpy pajamas you wear spending the night with the tiny terrors, but you do have clothes. Just come get that dress you wore to Harold’s birthday party.”
Look at her trying to be all reasonable. I dropped the towel to put a bra on and replied, “It’s strapless. I threw out the strapless bra after Jo practically pulled it off me and stretched it all out of shape.”
“Okay,” Carol said slowly, clearly unaware of the horrors of a strapless bra with a toddler around, “what about that number from Tony’s graduation. The sweater thing.”
“I found a hole in the pants right in the middle of my crotch.” I’d worn that outfit a lot over the past two years since it was the most comfortable semi-nice pair of pants I owned. Now they’ve been downgraded to the ‘closet of rejects’ at Carol’s house.
“You don’t have to wear anything fancy,” Carol finally sighed. “It’s not like it’s a big business party or anything like that. Just pick a pair of pants and a shirt.”
“And look like I’m about to go work in someone’s yard?” I asked as I held up what was going to be today’s shirt: a long-sleeve t-shirt with Mickey’s giant mouse face faded on the front. It was one of Timmy’s favorites. “Or like I’m about to hang out with two children under five? This is supposed to be a party, right? Not just a bunch of us going out to dinner so I don’t feel alone on a holiday? Please tell me this wasn’t a pity get-together you’re just now throwing together.”
“It’s not, I told you about it three weeks ago, remember?” Carol grumbled. “You were going to be hanging out with Jake instead.”
Replace ‘hanging out’ with ‘having sex’ and it might have been more accurate. I wasn’t about to tell my sister that. “And now instead of hanging out with my boyfriend I’m going to a party with my sister. This feels like a bad idea.”
“Gee thanks,” Carol snorted. “I love you too.”
I collapsed on the bed and picked up the phone, rolling onto my side so I could still face the speakerphone. “You know I don’t mean it like that. You’re wonderful. But you’re my sister and you’re married. I’m going to look like some stupid third wheel. It’d be different if I had a date.”
“So get a date.”
“You’re kidding right?” I chuffed. “One, it’s way to soon after Jake. I’ll look like some whore out for fresh meat. Two, who’d want to date me after everything Jake said? It’s all over the internet.”
“It is not.”
“Is too.”
“Prove it.”
“Every other post is about finding true love.”
“And that has nothing to do with you,” Carol countered reasonably. It sucked that she could be so reasonable about it and have it make sense while I was just trying to hold my brain and my heart in one hand every time I logged in. “He’s happy and wants to celebrate. Let him. Go find yourself a good date.”
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine someone going out with me on New Years. “Anyone willing to date me this soon after Jake is going to expect the two-bit scummy sleeps-with-everyone drama queen.” I’d spend half the night keeping his hands out of my pants, and the other half getting so drunk I wouldn’t care if his hand was down pants.
“Just challenge them to a game of ‘I never.’ You’ve got enough dirt on the scumbags around here to get them dead-ass drunk and impotent in under ten minutes.”
I had to laugh at that because it was true. We’d grown up around here and my sister was the Gossip Girl. She always had the news on everyone and she wasn’t afraid to share with her little sister. “I’ve never gotten a splinter in a private area,” I quipped. That had been a fun tale.
“You’ve never asked someone to bring you clean underwear to a public restroom.”
“I’ve never secretly dated behind my partner’s back.” He couldn’t hide it either. Everyone knew. Maybe in a few years they’d forget but right now it was all fresh in their minds. If I’d done it I would have been drug through the mud and lost my job. He was the one who did it, though, so now it’s ‘true love’ and it’s beautiful.
“Oh, sweetie,” Carol soothed. I thought I knew what was coming but her words actually startled a laugh out of me: “Calling him a partner is too generous. He was too small for that.”
I sat up with a small smile on my face and looked around the hotel room. “Okay, you’ve succeeded in cheering me up a bit. But I still don’t have anything party-appropriate here or in your closet, and I still think going alone with you and your beefcake looks sad.”
“Well you need to get out,” Carol countered sternly. “Do you object if I get a date for you? I’ll find someone willing to do the pretend boyfriend thing if you want. You know - someone who will stand up for you and have your back and look pretty but won’t expect to still be here in the morning.”
I raised an eyebrow as I started folding my clothes and sticking them back it the duffle bags I used. “You can find one of those who hasn’t latched onto Jake’s every word like some sort of social leech? Carol, I thought I knew you.”
“Ha, ha, ha. Your sister still has a few tricks up her sleeve. Even if she does have a baby who needs to be in bed by eight. I’m a mother, not a zombie.”
“Could have fooled me. Those three weeks after he was born were very questionable. Just saying.” We all teased her about those three weeks. She’d been a mindless drone stumbling into the nursery more than once.
“Just keep an open mind,” Carol pleaded. “We’ll meet for dinner and if you don’t like him we’ll kick him to the curb by ten.”
“Fine,” I agreed.
“As for the clothes - just wear whatever makes you feel comfortable. You don’t need to impress anyone just yet. Right now they need to impress you, not the other way around.”
“That comes later?” I asked. “You brat.”
The sound of crying interrupted us, followed by a long sigh. I know my sister loved her baby. I also know my sister missed not having a little helpless lifeform attached to her 24/7. Maybe I should offer to babysit more. Not right now, though. “Go on,” I said, giving her permission she didn’t even need to ask for. “Take care of your baby.”
“That’s the third time today.”
“He’s protesting against Mommy interfering with Aunt Holly’s social life,” I teased. “It’s okay. I’ll figure things out. You take care of you.”
“Dinner at Starlight tomorrow. Nine o’clock,” Carol reminded. “I’ll bring your date.”
“Good night.”
There were a few mutters about lack of sleep and a shift this afternoon from the line. It was such a small worry and I was happy for my sister. I really was. Her son was learning the fine art of crying to get what he wanted. I knew the signs because I’d seen more than one kid go through that stage. The toughest lesson to learn was learning how to let them cry it out. I couldn’t give them what they wanted. Some problems just couldn’t be fixed.
And now I had an extra complication to this outing. This had changed from a party to a date. Even if it was pretend I would still be showing up and acting like a girlfriend. That automatically ruled out the frumpy clothes and quick shower route. A proper date deserved at least a little more consideration.
I opened my phone to check my bank account and did some quick math to estimate the hotel costs and other bills coming out of the account. It was time to see what exactly I needed to get an outfit together and who was still open with reasonable prices. I couldn’t just stay in the hotel room and expect everything to magically work out. I had to move on.
At this point I hadn’t yet decided what that meant. I knew what role I played in Jake’s story, and I knew how I fit in with my family and with the kids. I knew my place in the organization. But kids grew up and my sister had her own husband. There would be more kids that would need a nanny and parents that needed time off and that was fine.
But could I really live dependent on everyone else forever? Eventually I would need more than just this thin network of people to rely on.
Except I couldn’t quite figure out how that worked. I wasn’t hero material. Like I said from the start: this story isn’t typical. I’m no hero, and I never tried to be. I was trying very hard not to fall into the ‘damsel in distress’ role since I had grown up hearing about how women should be strong and break free of that stereotype. I needed to be independent.
But what roles did that really leave? Either I was a hero, a damsel, or a villain. I didn’t want to live out some Romeo and Juliet tragedy, and I didn’t have a fairy godmother coming along to save me.
In Jake’s story I was a low-ranking villain. In Carol’s story… I was probably the side-quest. To the kids I was an operating system: laying down rules and handing out tasks with rewards. To the organization I was like a game NPC. A static character fulfilling a specific role while their own plot played out.
But who was I in my story? I hadn’t figured that out yet. I still haven’t. Or maybe I just haven’t really accepted it. Either way, I couldn’t really embrace my role without understanding it.
What I knew was that a party was coming up and I needed to get ready for my date.
And let me tell you, it was going to be a hell of a date. A knight in shining steel-toed boots. I didn’t even know half of what he did until much later, and even still most of what I do know is guesswork. Pieced together from what I’ve heard. He won’t tell me a thing, just gives me a little smile that looks like secrets and teasing and ‘do you want to play?’
Really, I had no idea what I was getting into.
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