Chapter Fifteen
There were many secrets that Susan held onto tightly. Stubborn jealously had been the default emotion whenever she shared details of past relationships with other boys. An explanation of her dependency on Ralph was in order, but she had no idea how to approach Richard. The experiences she held closely embarrassed her. Ralph was the only man who had known her during the most difficult times in her life and had not judged her for what she did. She was not sure that her husband would be so forgiving.
She sat, staring through the windows at the rear of their house. Sea oats whipped back-and-forth with every gust of wind. Blue sky had given way to clouds rolling in quickly from the west that completely covered the atmosphere. Without the benefit of sunlight the gulf water was dark and violent. Waves capped by white foam stretched all the way to the horizon. Sea-spray exploded into the air as they crashed together. The signs were strong that there was a bad storm coming.
Her past became present as recollections crept into the forefront of Susan’s consciousness. Unique dates, unusual experiences and places she had been with other men once again became as fresh as the day they happened. The power of her mind took her far away from Erstwhile and her troubled existence. Memories that had been stained by infidelity, manipulation and indifference were somehow pleasant again.
Susan felt more morose than when she sat down. She stood and walked across the living room in-to the guest bedroom. It was the farthest enclave from the master suite that she shared with her husband. Against the far wall, unpacked boxes filled with house-hold items were stacked head-high. She walked over to them and looked along the bottom row until she spied the one she wanted. The boxes directly on top of the one she desired were removed. When it was exposed, she slid it toward her and from between two that lay snuggly on either side. Unlike the others, this one was void of any markings, but Susan knew exactly what she was searching for; memories she had kept from her husband.
She picked the box up and set it down on the bed next to her. There was no tape holding its flaps closed. They had been closed by alternating their over-under position. Opening it, she leaned forward and peered inside. The first item removed was a garter from her high school prom, which she lay on the bed next to her. Then she reached in and pulled out a hospital identification bracelet that adorned her wrist while in rehabilitation for her cocaine addiction. Susan recalled spending her twenty-first birthday there. Her mood sank as she conjured memories from almost two decades earlier. What she had come to understand was that her addiction must be confronted head-on, every day of her life. She placed the bracelet on the bed next to the garter. From deep within the box she plucked a framed picture of her and a young man. His name was Courtney Brown. The two young, fresh-faced people were on top of a snow-capped mountain in Vale, Colorado. Her eyes were drawn away from the landscape and back to the handsome couple. The smiles on their faces were grand, fresh and exuded happiness. Each wore a ski-bib, boots and goggles that were propped up on their foreheads.
Susan turned the picture around. On the card-board backing that held it flush against the glass was a piece of duct tape. She pulled it away and with it came a jagged layer of brown paper. Placing the photograph in her lap, she held the tape in her right hand and peeled away the casing placed there long ago to reveal a gold and diamond ring. It was not especially impressive in size, but it held a lot of sentiment in its thin gold band. The halo was given to a woman who did not know what to expect from a lover; by a man too young to know what it was he wanted out of life. The passion was no less intense.
Susan was transported emotionally from the mountaintop back to Erstwhile when she heard a rap-ping on the back door. She lifted the picture from her lap and put it on the nightstand next to the bed, as she put the ring in the coin pocket of her jeans. She walked out of the guest room and back across the living room to the rear of the house. Large intermittent raindrops pounded against the glass. Reaching the back porch, she saw Emma with a windbreaker pulled over her head to shield her from getting wet. She had her right hand placed along her brow with its back edge pressed against the glass to shield the glare. When she spied Susan walking onto the back porch she smiled and waved vigorously. Susan walked to the back door and opened it. Emma hopped out of the rain and into the house. Once inside, she took off her coat, shook it dry, and paid no attention to the fact that she was getting her friend’s floor wet. Emma handed the jacket to Susan as she would a servant who was expected to dispose of it; which she dutifully hung on a hook mounted on the wall next to the door.
“Hey, sister,” she said, as she walked into the house.
“Hello, Emma.”
“Have you got anything to drink?” she said as she walked over to a bamboo sofa on the porch and sat down.
“We’ve got Coke, or water. I think I may have some apple juice, if you’d like that.”
Emma laughed. “On a cold rainy day like today, I think I need something a little stiffer. Have you got any scotch?”
“Is Glenfiddich okay?” Susan asked as she walked toward the bar-cart.
“I guess so,” Emma said. “I’ll take it neat. I hate watered down scotch.”
Without a word Susan made the drink and walked back to where her guest sat and handed her the drink.
After taking a sip she said, “Whew! Is this the best you’ve got?”
“Well, it is aged twelve years and it’s a single malt scotch.”
With her hand, Emma waved away all responsibility for her lack of decorum. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to discuss the quality, or lack thereof, of your liquor cabinet.” Before she could finish her thought she noticed that Susan had the same far-away look in her eye as the first day they met on the beach. “What’s the matter, hun?”
Susan shook her head. “I can’t help but wonder if I’ve made the best decisions in my life.”
“Can’t stop thinking about Ralph?”
“It’s not just him, every decision I’ve ever made seems like it has been a misstep.” Susan took comfort in knowing that someone was truly interested in her well being and found herself clinging to the tenuously fresh alliance. She rubbed the outside of her jeans with her thumb, feeling the ring in her pocket. For her it symbolized a never-ending succession of choices resulting in pain. “Richard called a little earlier and asked if he could take me to dinner.”
“Dinner, huh?”
“He said he had something he needed to talk to me about.”
“Needed or wanted?”
“What?”
“Did he say he needed to talk to you, or that he wanted to talk to you?”
“I’m not sure. I think I heard ‘needed.’”
“It’s always been my experience that words are carefully chosen, but whenever they are employed haphazardly is when people get hurt. If he ‘needs’ to talk to you then there is something pressing he has to talk with you about. If he ‘wants’ to talk to you, then it’s some-thing less critical; like buying a car.”
Susan stood and walked to the bar. Emma’s words began to sink in and they reflected the reality of the dilemma she created for herself. Her mind raced with possibilities. Standing over the counter she looked at the various bottles of liquor and considered having a drink. She felt like less of a married woman and more like the young woman who painfully discovered just how cruel the world can be. Her stare moved from the bottles to the mirrored glass on top of the bar, examining her likeness. The longer she looked the younger she became. The telltale lines on her face, the signs of an experienced woman, slowly disappeared. The single manifestation became that of two as she imagined Courtney standing behind her, peering over her shoulder at her reflection in the glass. He smiled at her and she returned the gesture.
He reached down and carefully slid the bottles away from the center and against the sides of the bar-cart, leaving an empty space in the middle.
Susan looked at Emma worried that she could see the apparition she clung to for hope. Emma smiled, oblivious to the inner workings of her friend’s mind. Her gaze returned to the mirror where she saw a white, powdery residue. She recognized it from the many nights spent as a young person trying to alter her reality. A tightly rolled one hundred dollar bill, wrapped inside a small rubber band, fell onto the glass; tossed there by Courtney. He was unable to focus on her image. His eyes were glazed and there was a satisfied smile on his face. He pinched his nose and rubbed it vigorously to take away the sting.
Susan looked again at the cocaine dregs on the glass. She reached down and ran the tip of her finger through it, then placed that finger in her mouth and rubbed it along her gums. The mere suggestion of the happiness she once knew was enough to make her mouth tingle and go numb. Suddenly, she grabbed her wrist and remembered the hospital band she had re-moved from her box of memories. She shook away the illusion and walked over to where her friend was seated and sat down.
Emma looked at Susan, eyebrows raised. “I have a great idea.”
“What’s that?” she asked, still dazed and suggestively high.
“Why don’t I show up at the restaurant tonight? I could be a friend from way back when. That way, I could provide you the strength you need to get through it. I know how much you need me.”
“That would be nice.” Susan did not realize that there was no reason for her to require the support of anyone. She reacted as she had been conditioned; to rely on others fully and without question. That need caused her to continually search beyond good circumstances for unattainable ones. In choosing Emma as a friend, she strengthened her resolve to alter the circumstances of her life.