The Grandparent

As I'm sure some of you noticed I posted chapter four of "All of Her." I am slowly working on chapter five... Its a process.

I put in my two weeks at Kohl's (finally!) and my last day is November 20th. I am hoping to hear from Barnes and Noble, as the one in my area is hiring. The hiring manager implied that I'd be getting a call, however that is no guarantee. Its not like I can't find another job right now, as it is holiday season.

In the mean time I will continue working at Sam's Club doing food/product demonstrations. Its a living.

The only other thing that is bothering me right now is My Grandmother.

As many of you remember, a little over two years ago my Grandfather passed away (this was before my car accident). This was incredibly upsetting to me, as I had a rather close relationship with my grandpa (whom I miss greatly).

For several years now my Grandmother (my mom's mom, my grandfather's wife) has been suffering from Alzheimer's disease. Since Grandpa's death she has gone very far down hill. And, it seems, that she will not be among the living much longer. She has been refusing food and drink for several days now. And her desire was to not be kept alive.

On the one hand she has been pretty much dead to me for the past couple of years. Its easier than you think to let go of someone who is almost a total stranger, especially when they can no longer remember who you are. Okay, that isn't entirely true. She thinks I'm my mother. And that my mother is my mother. Which is very confusing for us all.

On the other hand this nearing of the grim reaper just makes me sad that I have never had a good relationship with her. And I wish I had. I wish that she and I had gotten along. But, unfortunately for me, most of my memories of her are abusive comments and abusive actions. I remember a few times where she liked me. But most of the time there were hateful comments about my weight, my choices in relationships (threats of disownment were not uncommon in my family) and my hair (usually that it needed cut, because she hated long hair).

In my own mind, my last grandparent died when Grandpa passed. Unfair to my grandmother, but in my own mind it seemed fair. And now I feel guilty. Maybe if I had tried harder to please her? Maybe if I had done everything she demanded I do and had lost the weight and cut my hair and given up on ever marrying a cute african-american man (which I obviously did, but beside the point) she would've loved me.

My mother says that she did love me. When I was an infant. Before the onset of free will and personality.

To be fair, she likes me well enough now. But that's because she doesn't know who I am. And that isn't a relationship. Its a lie.

I hate visiting her. I can't stand to see her like that. I can't stand to be in the nursing home. I can't stand seeing my, often times, worst enemy in a debilitated state like that. It is so strange to see someone you've been terrified of like that. Its strangely terrifying in its own way. And when I see her, its like I'm in a dream.

Should I have gone to the nursing home this last Sunday? Even though I felt like crap and it was my only day off? Should I have gone? Should I go before she is gone forever? I don't know. I'm confused and I'm torn. Part of me is so numb to the whole thing that I don't care. But there have been so many I didn't get to say goodbye to. Should I let this one go by me, without so much as a pause? Should I say goodbye?

It may be too late now. Will I regret this moment next year? Or the year after that? Will I regret it at the funeral? Am I a terrible grandchild? Am I an awful person for feeling so numb and so disillusioned?

All of Her: Chapter Four

The night of Sophie's homecoming dance arrives. Before her art class, Mom drops her off at my apartment.

I have been flip-flopping on the plan I have made. I try to believe in true love finding me, but I discover I no longer believe in it. He took my belief in beautiful things like that. I am no longer naive. But does that mean I want to go through with my plan?

Its shortly after Sophie arrives that I make a decision. I won't go through with my plan. I won't just date and break up with random people. I am an adult. I will behave like one.

I have resolve. My mother survived, so can I. She didn't resort to sleeping around. Of course, wasn't betrayed by my father, but that is beside the point.

I am okay. Until a knock at the door.

Through the peephole I see that its David. I knew it would be. Sophie asks if she should answer the door. I shush her and have her go to the bedroom to do her make-up.

I open the door, cautiously. He smiles at me. He has such a beautiful smile.

"What do you need David?" I ask.

"Can I come in?" he asks.

Against my better judgment I open the door and step aside. I catch a whiff of his cologne and I begin to melt.

He comes in and sits on the couch. He motions for me to sit with him. I go to sit and he pulls me into his lap. He begins kissing me. An insistent kiss, full of desire. He pulls at my tank top and I don't resist.

I have missed him so much. I want him. My body is reacting, against all sense. God, I am in love with him. I can feel him begin to react. It sends a thrill through me like nothing else. I want him. I want this.

My sister is in my bedroom.

That thought somehow bubbles up through the lust and loneliness I've been feeling ever since he left me. I am such a slut.

I pull away. Some reason coming back to me. Some bitterness as well.

"What's wrong?" He asks. As if he doesn't know.

"You love Alice now, remember? Why are you here? What do you want?"

"I want you." he says.

"Liar. What do you really want?" I demand. I stand up and look down at him, his slowly wilting erection at the bottom edge of my vision. He is starting to look angry. He is acting as if I am slow or something. Like I should know exactly what is going on right now.

"I want to sleep with you. I want you. Isn't that obvious?" He makes a slight gesture down. I don't look.

"I don't want you."

"Now who is the liar?" he says sarcastically. "You miss me. I know you do."

"Of course I do. But you made your choice. You've already hurt me enough. Get out." I go to the door.

"I want the engagement ring back."

I stop. A knife just slit my throat. It just stabbed into my back, through my heart and then slit my throat. A pain I didn't know was possible punches the air out of my chest. I can't breathe. I turn toward him. He has stood up from the couch, no sign of love or lust anymore. He has the audacity to look a little guilty.

"That was your master plan? Seduce me to get the ring back? Am I a whore? You think I'd even want to sleep with you, after everything you've done to me? You think I'll be so grateful for the attention I'll give you back the ring? Are you wanting it so you don't have to buy another for her?" I tug at the simple silver band with one white sapphire surrounded by tiny pink diamonds.

"I just want it back. What does it matter what I do with it?" he shouts.

"Then take it!" I cry, throwing it at him. "Take it and get the fuck out of my house!"

"This isn't what I wanted, Abra." he says, softly. "Let's just talk a moment."

"No," I say, the tears streaming down my cheeks. "you made your choice and we are done talking. Please, leave."

I open the door. Tears still streaming down my face. He shakes his head, picks up the ring and walks out. I slam the door behind him and scream.

Sophie runs out as I collapse in front of the door. Being a perfect little sister, she holds me while I cry. Again. And, just like that, the little piece of my heart that my mother had put back in place splinters.

"We don't have to go, Abe." says Sophie. She holds me and croons, like a mother to her baby.

"That's sweet, So." I say. "But I want to go. I have to get out of this apartment for a little while. Let's finish getting ready."

Though she looks unsure, my sister trusts me. We stand up and head toward the bathroom.

While Sophie finishes her make-up in the bathroom, I slip into a blood red strapless gown. I curl my hair and put on mascara. I have a bit of a natural flush from crying so the only other make-up I use is a dab of lipstick. Sitting at my vanity, I wipe away another tear.

He thought, nay believed, I would sleep with him. Believed I would then turn around and give him my engagement ring. The one we scrimped and saved for. The one he slipped on my finger under the white Christmas lights draped over a gazebo in the park.

And I almost fell for it. I almost believed he still loved me. Foolishly, I mistook lust and greed for love. How could I have loved someone for so long and still know nothing about him? Worst of all, I almost went through with this while my younger sister hid in my room. Waiting for me to take her to her homecoming dance.

I feel so guilty right now. I truly am a brazen hussy. My self-worth just hit an all time low. No one could bring it any lower. I am beating myself like I stole something.

Sophie comes in behind me. She is wearing a glittery blue satin gown. She looks beautiful and perfect. I don't want anyone to hurt her, ever. Not like I've been hurt. Not like I'm hurting now. It hurts to realize I can't protect her from heartbreak anymore than I can give her the moon. I wish I could.

"Are you ready, Abe?" Sophie sweeps a stray curl back into place.

Wiping away one more stray tear, I smile and nod.

Upon our arrival at the high school, Sophie looks around expectantly. I realize she has a date meeting her here. Even though I don’t know what he looks like, I glance around as well. I don’t find her date, but I see someone I’d like to have as mine.

Noticing that I’m staring, Sophie leans in to whisper.

“That’s Mr. Reed. He’s my History teacher. All of the girls in my class think he is dreamy. What do you think, Abe?”

I think he is gorgeous, if a little nerdy looking. He has longer red hair, tied back in a ponytail. He has magnificent green eyes, at least what I can see of them from here. His glasses don’t help me see them either. He is tall. Taller than David. He is thinner than I generally like, but I can deal with that. Its not like this is going to be a long relationship.

“He is okay,” I say. I brush off any further comments by taking Sophie’s hand and leading her into the school gymnasium.

The gym is decorated with ribbons in the school colors, orange and blue. A few strobe lights dance around creating a make-shift disco effect. There is punch and cookies donated by the Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) organization as well as tea sandwiches donated by the Historical Society.

The music isn’t exactly amazing, but they do play some current pop and hip-hop. The kids seem to be enjoying themselves at least. The teachers are scattered around the room, including Mr. Reid who has come in from supervising the entrance.

At first I pretend to sip my punch and watch my sister dancing with her girl-friends. Secretly, I’m watching Mr. Reid. He looks to be about thirty, maybe a little younger than that. That’s when I notice another handsome gentleman, this one probably almost forty. He looks a little like a mixture of Clark Gable and Sam Eliot. Not bad looking at all and not entirely out of my age range. I decide to go and talk to him. I don’t know why.

When I come near, I realize he is talking to another teacher. His voice is gravelly, like Sam Eliot’s. I hear the other teacher call him Mr. Samson. That intrigues me. Samson, huh? Handsome, sexy voice and a strong name. I like this Mr. Samson already.

I politely wait until he and the female teacher, Ms. Emery as he called her, are finished talking and she has walked away. He looks at me and smiles. He has a great smile too.

“I’m Abra,” I say, extending my hand.

“Clark Samson.” He replies. He has a firm handshake and some beautifully rugged hands. I feel heat filling up my cheeks. I feel like I’m on fire. I try to remember that I am a brazen hussy and this is the norm for me. I act cool, removed. At least I try to.

“What subject do you teach, Mr. Samson?” I frantically think of every movie where a girl seduces a man. They always use their eyes. Or their breasts, but that is currently out of the question.

“Latin, as well as the history of the Roman Empire.” What a sexy topic.

“Really? That’s very interesting. I took Latin when I was in school. Admittedly the only thing I can clearly remember is ‘Veni Vidi Vici’.” I laugh inwardly when I see the sparkle in his eyes at my brash attitude. I have come and I have seen, though I have yet to conquer. That may change in a moment, however.

Clearly won over by my insanity, or my low cut strapless dress, Mr. Samson asks if I’d like to go for a drink after the dance. I acquiesce, saying that I would be willing to meet him somewhere if he’d like. We agree to meet at “The Wilford and Brimley” at one o’ clock. I give him my name and number on a paper napkin, give a saucy wink and go back toward my sister.

Sophie seems to have the time of her life. Though, every now and then, I’ll catch her looking around for someone that she never seems to find. She doesn’t dance with any of the boys there. I begin to feel angry for her. What jerk wouldn’t show up to a homecoming dance that he promised to attend with his girlfriend?

Except, this seems oddly familiar. David never showed up to our homecoming dance either. I waited all night for him. And Alice.

Sick to my stomach, I lurch into the bathroom. I spit in the toilet and hold my breath for a moment. This pushes some of the nausea down, but not enough. I try to be quiet as I get sick. Not that anyone can hear me with the music blaring in the gym.

They have been doing this for years. I have been with David since we were twelve. Alice has been my best friend (well, ex-best friend now) since we were ten. Have they been together behind my back for that long? I can’t even begin to comprehend this. Why continue to lead me on, if they were in love with each other? Why even propose? Why go through with the planning when he knew all along that he wasn’t actually in love with me?

I can’t make sense of this. I get sick again trying to. In the mean time, I’m sure my sister is looking for me, as well as this mysterious date. I’m supposed to be chaperoning, making sure nothing goes horrifically wrong. Except everything is going horrifically wrong in my stomach and my heart.

When I gain some composure I go back to the gym. Everyone is starting to wrap things up. Sophie’s friends are asking her to go with them to the bowling alley for a homecoming party. She declines politely. She looks like she might cry.

In the car she tells me that Nathan, a boy she has a crush on, promised to come to homecoming with her. They said they’d meet in front of the school, but he never showed up. She cries, softly, as I take her home. There is nothing I can do to ease the pain. I felt the same way as my mother drove me home from homecoming.

We are quiet on the way to Mom’s house. I have nothing to say to make it better. Kate Bush sings on my radio. We never really stop running up that hill, do we? I look over at my beautiful sister. She is still crying. Her mascara is running down her cheeks in inky trails. I hate myself right now. I hate this Nathan person for causing her to cry like I have for so many days now. I hate the whole world.

When we get to Mom’s house, Sophie gets out of the car and runs straight to her room. I go and sit in the living room. Mom will be home any moment from her art class at the community college. I don’t want to leave Sophie to Mom, but at the same time I remember Mr. Samson and “The Wilford and Brimley”. I look at the clock. It is ten-thirty. It isn’t even close to time.

Feeling extremely guilty for even considering leaving my sister in her time of need, I resign myself to staying here. I go upstairs and knock on Sophie’s door.

“Sophie, honey? Can I come in?”

“Go home, Abe. I don’t want to talk right now.” She sounds like she is sobbing out the words rather than saying them.

“Sweetie, let me in. At least to give you a hug.” What can I do, if she won’t open the door? Downstairs I can hear my mother coming in. Just as I almost give up and go back downstairs, Sophie opens the door. She flies into my arms and cries like the world will end. I stroke her hair and tell her everything will be all right. Everything will be okay. She asks me when and I have no answer to give.

My mother comes upstairs at the sound of crying. She sees me holding my sobbing sister and she doesn’t have to ask. She remembers this scene. As do I. Except it was Anna and I, five years ago. Without a word she goes back downstairs and makes some cups of cocoa and a plate of cookies. I coax Sophie downstairs. Once we are downstairs Mom gives her a hug and they go sit on the couch. I follow, unsure of what to do.

We sit with her for a couple of hours. She cries herself out and eventually just falls asleep in my mother’s lap. Its two AM when my mother sends me home.

“There is nothing else to do for a broken heart,” she says.

I don’t want to go home, though I am sure that Mr. Samson is no longer at “The Wilford and Brimley.” Even though I’m sure he isn’t there any longer I decide to go for a drink anyway. I could use one after everything that has been happening recently.

On the drive I listen to a mixed CD that a friend made me. It is a list of break-up songs. Angry songs, sad songs, wish I could die songs. Her heart was in the right place, but I wish she hadn’t made it. I do enjoy some of them. Some of them fit David and I. And when I hear it I think about everything and I get teary. Like the one playing now. It is by a Korean artist.

“I’m drowning myself in the memories of love…” That sounds about right.

When I arrive at the bar Rihanna is singing about the theatrics of an ex. I don’t hesitate to turn it off. I can’t handle any more sad songs. Right now I couldn’t handle a love song either. I need angry music. Maybe when I get home I’ll listen to Apocalyptica, they are usually what I need for angry cello music.

Without paying attention, still musing on break-up songs and other such topics, I almost walk right by Mr. Samson. I look up and am met with his lavender eyes, sparkling like they were in the gymnasium.

“I am surprised you are still here,” I say, looking down at my watch. It’s a quarter to three. Almost two hours after we were supposed to meet.

“A beautiful lady is worth waiting for.” He says.

Broke In (Again)

Dear Asshole who broke into my van,
I'd really appreciate it if you would've at least closed the door. Now my battery is dead. Thank you. You should've been able to see into the thing, the windows are HUGE. There is nothing to steal, I'm not an idiot who leaves valuables in their car. So, thanks, once again for ruining my day.
Sincerely,
Sarai

All of Her: Chapter Three

It has been two weeks since David fully moved out. I can't stand being alone after having lived with at least one person all of my life. The quiet scares me sometimes. So I bought a Siamese cat and named him Snuggles.

I notified the landlord of David's moving out. He's still bound to the lease until I find a roommate, though. This makes me secretly happy. Even though he is gone, he is still stuck with me through the lease.

Today I am packing up my dirty laundry and loading up my 1989 Geo Spectrum. I am going to my mother's to do laundry because I can't stand the silence at the apartment.

I haven't called it home since he left. I suppose the saying is true, "Home is where the heart is." I no longer have a heart, therefore I am homeless.

Snuggles meows at me and his silky snake of a tail swishes back and forth. His bright blue-green eyes look curious and he tilts his head to one side as if to ask a question.

I sink down to pet him and suddenly find myself crying with him snuggled against me. At least someone still loves me.

After my little cry I right myself and head out.

The drive to my mother's is not very long, but the route is curvy. Not the best drive to take when you are distracted.

I realize that it is getting warmer now. We will be fully into summer in about a week. I've been so blinded by my own despair I didn't even notice the advent of green. I actually smile. It is a bitter-sweet smile of course, but it is progress as Noah would say.

My mom's house is a beautiful two story Victorian in the middle of a luxurious suburb downtown. It is cream with pink trim, a perfectly manicured lawn and a long driveway with twin weeping willows on either side.

After my father passed away, Mom moved here with myself, my two younger sisters and my older sister, Anna. My older brother, Kevin, moved into the old house. She has since re-married and Bradley (Brad as we call him) keeps everything very neat.

When I pull up I am greeted by sweet chaos.

Anna and her husband, Greg are over with their two children. Their children, Elizabeth and Kristopher, are chasing Mom's dog, Biscuit, around the side yard. Anna and Greg are unpacking a small of box, though I am not sure of the contents. Probably pictures for Mom to hang.

Emma, my fifteen year old sister, is whining to Mom about her cell phone while Sophie, who is seventeen, is begging to go to a homecoming dance. Brad is on a ladder working on the gutters and is the only one to acknowledge my arrival with a smile and a wave.

Lastly my older brother, Kevin, pulls up in his mustang convertible.

"Looks like the gang is all here." I say, waving at Kev.

"Timing is everything." He says. He smiles at the very full yard and shuts his door.

"Have I forgotten someone's birthday? Or a major holiday?" I query. Normally everyone wouldn't just be randomly gathered at Mom's house. I begin to tick off a mental calendar. No, no holidays or birthdays. None that I can think of anyway.

"I don't think you have." says Kevin. He is going over a mental check list too.

We hug and then link arms as we walk toward Anna's minivan. Anna and Greg have stopped for a moment to kiss each other. I wince at their happiness. Just then Kris and Beth come running, shouting,

"Auntie Abra, Uncle Kev!" Chubby cherub arms twine themselves around our waists in bear hugs. I can't help but smile and laugh. I pick up Kris, who is four, and kiss his cheek. He smiles then wiggles out of my grasp.

"'Ello, Greg." says Kev. The two shake hands and Kev gives Anna's cheek a peck.

My mother finally manages to tear herself away from Sophie and Emma to come and hug us. Brad comes up and shakes Kev's hand.

"'Ello, Brad." says Kev. "Taking good care of my mother?"

"Always, Kevin, always." replies Brad. This is how they have greeted each other since Mom and Brad got married eight years ago. Brad smiles and puts a loving hand on Mom's shoulder.

"Let's all go into the house and have some tea and cookies." says Mom, beaming. She always looks so happy when we are all there.

In a cluster we go into the house and congregate, like a murder of crows, in the living room. Sophie comes and sits on the arm of chair and rests her cheek on my shoulder.

"Hello, Sophie." I say, wrapping an arm around my sister's shoulder. "How is school going?"

"Its okay. Mom doesn't want me going to the homecoming though." she sighs. I know my sister. She wants me to talk to Mom for her.

"Why not?" I ask.

"I don't have a chaperon. She has an art class to teach that night and Brad will be out of town on business." Sophie looks at me imploringly. I can't resist those pretty green puppy dog eyes.

"I'll see what I can do." I say. Sophie squeals and kisses my cheek before going to hug Kevin.

I realize that this is a perfect opportunity for me. I can start my plans at the homecoming dance. Surely Sophie has a few cute teachers. Right?

As I'm planning, Anna comes up and sits next to me.

"You okay Abe?" she asks, using a nickname she hasn't used since we were little girls. She is worrying about me, I can see it in her eyes. Though she tries to mask it.

"I'm fine." I say, quickly. I smile my best smile to re-assure her, but she doesn't seem convinced. She knows me better than that.

"Mom says you bought a new cat. Are you happy? I know you'd been wanting to get another since Cleocatra passed on."

I love my sister so much right now. She knows I'm lying, but she goes with it anyway. Could I ask for a better one?

Before I can answer, Emma comes up and sits in my lap.

"A-baa," she says, using the baby name she called me when she was little. She lays her head on my shoulder wraps her arms around my neck. "can I spend the night with you this weekend? I miss you."

I wrap my arms around her and sigh into her hair.

"Have you already asked Mom about it?" I ask.

"No. But I know she'll say yes. Please? I'll bring my Florence and the Machine CD and we can watch Marilyn Monroe movies. We can make a sleepover of it! Please, A-baa?"

I can't resist when she calls me that. Being the youngest of the family, Emma gets away with a little more than the rest of us. Partially because we older siblings are the ones letting her get away with it.

"Okay, Em. If Mom gives the okay you can come over."

With a joyous little giggle she hops out of my lap and runs off to ask Mom's permission. A wistful smile creeps onto my face. At her age I was spending all of my time with David. I was so infatuated with him. What a waste of my time and youth.

Not being blind, Anna gives me a look of understanding. She hugs me before getting pulled away by her children.

I sit still, fighting off the overwhelming sadness that creeps up. I am so focused, I don't realize Mom has come up to sit beside me. I don't notice until she speaks.

"When your father died, we had been married for nineteen years. But we had been together for twenty-two. He was my best friend, my lover and confidante. We had five beautiful children and I believed we'd have five more. As well as many more years together.

"I was devastated. If not for you children and your grandmother, God rest her, I would never have survived. I didn't believe I was strong at all. I was a thirty-eight year old woman with five children, one of which was four, all on her own. But I lived. And I eventually fell in love with another man. Did he replace your father? No.

"But he did help support me while the gash in my heart healed into a still pink scar. Brad and I have been married for only eight years. Not even half of what I was married to your father. But he has been just as much my friend, lover and confidante. When it starts to feel overwhelming, because it will, remember it isn't the end. You are still young. You are stronger than you think. And, no matter what, I love you."

She smiles at me and pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I try to smile back. It is wobbly, but I manage and she hugs me. I snuggle into her embrace and take a deep breathe to stifle a sob. I realize how comforting the smell of her is. She smells like fresh bread and honeysuckle. She smells like home to me. I am home in my mother's arms. Even though my heart is still missing, a little piece floats back into place.

All of Her: Chapter Two

The next day Noah comes to check up on me. He shows up at the same time David and Alice do. It is awfully awkward and awkwardly awful. David seems completely unphased, but Alice stands in the doorway, frozen like an icy sculpture. I bitterly wish she was ice so I could melt her away.

Noah is the most distressed by this situation. He looks like he wants to beat the shit out of David. That or make him leave. Though the beating looks like it is going to win out.

"I should go," says Alice. And I'm surprised to see her move, she's been so still. Its like watching a statue come to life in a dream.

"No," I say, shocking everyone. "Stay. He'll need help carrying everything out, after all. Let me start by giving you back your shirt, Davey."

With a move that looks practiced, I pull off the shirt I have been wearing all night. I am not wearing anything underneath. I really don't care at this point.

Noah covers his eyes, as does Alice. David just stares. He is shocked, I can tell. I am so brazen, I don't even try to cover myself.

Proud, and a little nipply, I give David his shirt and glide out of the room. Okay, I don't glide. I run. I run and slam my door.

Then, right on cue, I burst into tears.

A thought occurs to me, amidst the tears and snot. A perfectly awful and wicked thought. Of course, I am beyond caring so it strikes me as not so evil. Stupid, obviously, but not so evil.

I've lost my mind. I know I have. But I am Alanis Morrisette in "You Oughta Know" right now. I want vengeance. Hell hath no fury and all that jazz. Except I am not thinking how this will punish me more than them. I should know better. I should think. But I don't care. I am a fool.

The old saying "A fool and his money are easily parted" is also true for virtue.

There is no point anymore. I am being super whiny and I don't care. I have no heart to speak of. I am heartless.

Was he sleeping with her this whole time? How long have I been blind to this romance blossoming? It couldn't have destroyed this much of my life that quickly could it?

No, things like this take time. A rose doesn't flower over night. Rome wasn't built in a day. And other such cliches.

Just like that I have a plan. I am going to sleep around. I've always secretly wondered about sex with other people. Now is the perfect time to find out. I am a brazen hussy after all.

Now I'm thinking about that raucous display and I'm blushing. However, I maintain that I don't care. Except now I feel how Eve must've felt when she realized her nudity. Ashamed.

I shouldn't have done that, but I've lost any will to control myself. I now have to face three people who saw me half naked. One of whom I hope remembers all of me naked. How embarrassing. Note to self, don't do that again.

Meekly, I peer out of the door. I don't see anyone. I do hear some muttered curses. The voice sounds like Noah's. Quietly, I creep down the hallway and peek into the kitchen.

Noah is in a tizzy trying to fix some coffee. My old fashioned pot confuses him. He's used to those one button brewers. Mine takes a little more time.

I don't see David or Alice. I look around, but still don't see them. Pretending I'm brave I walk into the kitchen. This time, fully dressed.

"Having trouble?" I say.

"Jesus," he says. He jumps and fumbles to catch his cup. "You scared the piss out of me! Don't do that."

I take his cup and set it on the counter. I remember when David and I decided on the dark granite when we remodeled this apartment. I also remember a few sexual episodes with me balancing on said counter. I hold back the tears and assist in the brewing of coffee.

After staring at me for a few moments, like I have suddenly transformed into Medusa, Noah shakes his head and sighs theatrically.

"I can't believe that you exposed yourself to all of us!" He finally exclaims.

"I've lost my mind, what can I say?" I go to the refrigerator and search for something, though I'm not entirely sure what.

"You mean you had one before?"

"No. Thanks for noticing." I retort sarcastically.

After the coffee is finished, I grab a cup and plop down on my purple plaid couch. I pull my legs up to my chest as Noah plops down beside me and sighs, again.

"So, where did the lovebirds go?" I ask.

"Well, after your little booby dance they promptly excused themselves saying they'd come back later. Which I'm sure they will come back. When you aren't here. In which case make sure you have everything marked."

"Ah. A ten year relationship reduced to a few boxes of crap. It really strengthens one's faith in love." I am restless. Part of me wants to tell Noah about my decision. But my mother didn't raise a fool. I become a fool all on my own. However, I have the feeling he would weaken my resolve. And that's the last thing I want.

Or maybe I want him to tell me I'm wrong and I need a hug and cookies to soften the blow of massive rejection.

I don't know what I want.

Actually, I want David. But that isn't going to happen now.