Surviving Valencia

“You’re pretty,” he said. I started laughing because it was such a quaint, simplistic thing to be told. It felt like something a kid would say to another kid. But I was totally pleased, too. We had flirted like crazy, but always with a faint protective edge in place. He had never left himself vulnerable like that. I was not used to communicating with him without the enigmatic veil of coolness that had become our language, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Then I stopped laughing, and I said the stupidest thing ever: “If you think I’m pretty, you should have seen my sister.”

He looked at me for the longest time and touched my face. He did not ask me what I meant, or point out that this contradicted my statement that I was an only child. Then he kissed me. I kissed him back, touching his hair and the back of his neck, memorizing his smell and warmth in case I never got this close to him again. My body filled with love and yearning and need. Everything that had been locked became open and I pulled him closer to me, wanting more. I was afraid he’d pull away from me at any moment. It didn’t seem possible that something so good could be happening to me. I kissed him, tasted him, overwhelmed with the desire to cry, because I already missed him. Even while it was happening, that was what I was thinking: Don’t ever forget what this feels like.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he whispered in my ear, so softly I later doubted whether I had really heard it at all.

Chapter 60

I did get close to Adrian again. All the time, every chance I got, and miraculously, he seemed just as drawn to me as I was to him. In early 2002, a week after Adrian filed for divorce from Belinda, he proposed to me, and in July of 2003 we got married.

Belinda did not deal very well with any of this. She showed up at Border’s, screaming and making threats. She grabbed a pair of scissors from a cup by one of the cash registers. I thought she was going to stab me. Instead, she cut off her long red hair and threw it at me. It seemed metaphoric, but I never did completely understand what she was trying to say. She did leave her mark on Border’s however; they can’t keep scissors in those cups anymore because of her.

Sam had moved on and was living with, of all people, Luna-with-the-floppy-arm. They had met through me and I had always suspected they were interested in each other. I learned about the two of them one day, shortly after Adrian asked me to marry him, when I ran into our old friend Dannon. Now that she had porcelain veneers on her teeth, she was living in New York and doing some modeling, along with working at some fancy advertising agency. She was back in town, looking gorgeous, sharing fried milk balls with her equally gorgeous girlfriend at an Indian restaurant on the east side of town. I was there to pick up some carryout food Adrian and I had ordered.

“Dannon!” I said. She looked great. Her hair was long and platinum blonde. Her skin was flawless. Her eyes were made up with smoky makeup, and she had an aura of sophistication about her.

“Hi,” she said, barely looking at me. Her exotic, olive-skinned girlfriend was unabashedly tonguing her ear. They thought they were in L.A. or something.

“How have you been?” I asked her. “What are you doing back in Madison?”

“Jacinda’s broth

er is getting married,” she said, tilting her head closer to her companion.

Jacinda held out her hand to me. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

“I saw our old friend Luna. That’s too bad she stole your boyfriend,” said Dannon. When she said boyfriend, I immediately thought of Adrian.

“Stole my boyfriend?” I looked at my diamond ring, imagining it sparkling on Luna’s shriveled, limp hand. “What are you talking about?”

“Luna said she and your boyfriend Sam are together now. That’s too bad for you,” she said. “Too bad. So sad. All of that.” Jacinda giggled.

I had no idea why Dannon was being mean, but sometimes when people suddenly turn pretty, they don’t quite know how to handle it. I decided she must still be learning the ropes. “It must really sting to lose him to Luna,” Dannon continued.

I waved my sparkling left hand in Dannon and Jacinda’s faces. “I couldn’t care less about those morons,” I told them. “I’m engaged to someone way more amazing than Sam.”

Jacinda yawned loudly.

“I like your veneers,” I told Dannon. I hoped it would come across as cutting, scathing, and might make Jacinda realize that Dannon had not always been such a catch.

“Thanks,” said Dannon. “Well, nice catching up with you. I think your little baggy of food is ready.” She pointed to the cash register where the clerk stood by a brown paper sack of food, arms crossed, waiting for me to pay.

“Oh. Thanks. Bye.” I walked away.

“Nice meeting you,” called Jacinda, sarcastically.

So, I thought, carrying my food to the car, there was proof that even being engaged to Adrian couldn’t make everyone like me. Maybe it couldn’t make anyone like me. But before him I would have been in tears over a conversation like that. Now I was able to turn on the radio and, by the time I pulled out of the parking lot, nearly forget it even happened.

Pathetically, I invited Dannon and Jacinda to my wedding. Sam and Luna, too, so I could show them how much I had moved on. I even sent an invitation to Marnie Hopkins, from high school. None of them came. They didn’t even send back the RSVP cards.

Adrian’s guest list was so long and mine was so short. I guess I got a little desperate.

Chapter 61

On November first, Adrian got up early to drive down to Jacksonville to meet with a client. I decided this was my opportunity to get some answers to the questions I hadn’t wanted to face.

I made myself a cup of tea and sat on the porch sipping it, wrapped in a thin blanket with the bright sun warming my face. Wrappers from the previous night’s trick-or-treaters blew across our front yard, but I was not motivated to clean them up. Aside from the steady drumming of my fingers on the armrest of the wicker chair I was sitting on, all was calm and quiet. I finished my tea and went inside, calling Adrian to assure myself that he was far from home.

“I’m about a half hour from Jacksonville,” he told me. “How are you feeling?”