Broken Read online

  Chapter 7

  For a while I say nothing, I just play with the food on my plate, trying to figure out what the appropriate response would be to what I’ve just heard. When my eyes meet hers, she’s already composed herself and she’s slowly eating her steak.

  “Valerie, I-”

  “I did not tell you the story to make you feel sorry for me, Jennifer. I don’t feel sorry for myself. I am grateful every single day for whatever little time I got to spend with my daughter. Some people never get to experience the kind of love we had for each other. I shared my story with you so that you can hopefully learn something from it. Whatever it is, I hope it will change your life in a positive way. Now, let’s see if we can come up with a more productive way to get you closer to that teaching position you were telling me about.”

  Talk about strong. That’s how I saw her now, strong and inspiring. No longer just a doctor, but a pained woman just like me. A woman who could probably teach me a thing or two about life. For the next few hours we ate, drank wine, and talked about my future. It all sounded so wonderful and I wanted to believe it was possible to have it all. I don’t know if it was the wine, but by the end of our time together, I was ready to climb the highest mountain, ready to take control of my life once and for all.

  I let myself into the dark and empty house, set the alarm, and then got ready for bed, positive thoughts still fresh in my mind. I can do this, I chanted over and over again. Right before going to sleep I decided to follow one of the many advices given by Valerie that day. “Write down everything you remember,” she said. “But stay away from anything negative. I want you to think of all the good times you had with Sam. Remember everything that made you happy before you met him.”

  What made me happy before I met him? I couldn’t remember much before Sam. It’s as if my life started the day I met him. It was my first day at UW and still trying to find my way around the campus. I had a map in my hand and when I looked up, there he was.

  “Need help, beautiful?” I swallowed hard and stared at his mouth, unable to speak. He moved closer and his fingers lifted my chin until our eyes met. “You ok?” I moved my head up and down like a bobbing doll which only made his smile bigger. “So how about it? Care for a tour? Or maybe we should just go for coffee?”

  That’s all it took. One coffee date and we became instant friends. Everybody loved him, especially the girls. It was hard not to. Yes he had the surfer blonde hair with the most amazing green eyes, and a body to die for. But he was so much more. He was funny and easy going and had the biggest heart. The kind of friend you could count on for many years to come.

  We started dating six months later and became inseparable. No one thought we would last since we were so different, and if I was honest, neither did I. We fought about everything, day and night, but somehow we always managed to make up. Two years later, just as I was getting ready to go home for Christmas, he asked me to marry him. It was not the kind of proposal you read about in books or see on television. We drove to the airport listening to Christmas songs on the radio, me singing along, him laughing at me. He parked in front of the entrance and got out to help me with my bags.

  “So listen, maybe we should get married.” I didn’t think I heard him right until he ask again. I laughed and shook my head. Was he joking? He had to be. That’s what I thought.

  “I’ll call you when I get home. Don’t miss me too much.”

  “Babe, I’m serious.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I have to go or I’ll miss my flight. Love you lots.”

  Hours later he sent me a text asking me the same thing and that made me think that maybe he was serious about it. He followed me to Boston that week and asked my mom for my hand in marriage and just like that, it was official.

  It was not your typical proposal, but it was the perfect proposal for me. I would give everything to go back to that day. To see him on his knee holding the small ring box, a sly smile on his face, waiting for my answer. We made love in my old bed that night, thankful that my mom decided on a last minute visit to her sister. The next day I cooked him breakfast and we pretended to be an old married couple. Such silly young kids with big dreams, ready to take on the world.

  We got married in a small ceremony, just a few friends and family, and had our reception in my aunt’s backyard. I wore my mother’s wedding dress and fresh flowers in my hair. Sam’s face as I walked down the aisle made me feel beautiful and loved. That day, in front of everyone, he promised to love me forever, to be there for me in sickness and health, till death do us part. He kept all his promises up until the last minute.

  After graduation we moved into a tiny apartment in a more upscale area in Seattle. It was all we could afford but it didn’t matter. The inside was full of character with crown molding and dark wood floors. The first day we moved in, we spent hours painting the entire place, and that night we made love in the empty bedroom on top of blankets and pillows.

  Every Friday night I would make him roasted chicken and mashed potatoes and he would stop and buy me flowers on his way home from work. Every Friday. Religiously. Every Friday I would set the table with our nicest plates and glasses and we would enjoy each other’s company, never talking about work or anything negative. It was our time, when we would just pretend that we were all alone in the entire world and life was full of bliss.

  Those were happy memories, memories that were long forgotten. I close my eyes and try to remember every detail of his face, his strong arms, the tattoo on his chest, the smooth skin when he was freshly shaved, the spicy smell of his aftershave. I knew his body as well as he knew mine. There was nothing we didn’t know about each other; nothing we didn’t love about one another. He was my happy place, my safety, my one true love, my rock. So you tell me, dear Dr. Collins, how do I move on from that?

  “It’s ok baby. I’m always going to be here,” Sam’s hand touches my face, his long fingers wiping my tears. “We will be together again, but not any time soon. You promised, babe. You promised you’ll be happy for me.”

  I wake up shaking and look around for him. It was all a dream, a stupid empty dream. Yet, why do I still feel his touch? I fell asleep on top of the sheets of papers where most of my memories are now scattered and out in the open. Nothing sad, just like she told me, and yet I feel no happiness. What would I feel if I wrote down my fears? I push away from the desk and lay on the bed hoping for sleep.

  Chapter 8

  The block party invitation is sitting on top of today’s mail and I read it for the hundredth time. I have the lines memorized, but still I feel like I’ve seen it for the first time. I can’t remember the last party I attended, and while I’m much better than I was a few weeks ago, I’m still no party animal. All I can think of is seeing David again, hoping he will give me the time of day. Thoughts of rejection make me doubt myself. Put your big girl panties on and join the living.

  I pick up the phone and dial the one person I know I can always depend on. She picks up on the second ring, her voice cheerful as always.

  “Jen, honey, is that you?”

  “Hi, Mom. Did I wake you?”

  “Wake me? Darling it’s after ten. How are you feeling?”

  “Mom, I’m feeling great. I’ve been invited to a party but I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Give me ten minutes to get changed. Come pick me up and we’ll have a mother and daughter day out. What do you say, honey? It’s been so long since we had one of those. We can pick something sexy for you to wear to the party.”

  “Mom, you are the best, you know that?”

  “You bet I know that.” It feels so good to hear her laugh and joke around.

  Within twenty minutes we’re on our way to the mall to get pampered and do some shopping. The stores are filled with last minute Christmas shoppers, and most of the shelves are already empty. There’s a huge line smack in the middle where a jolly Santa sits on his throne with a pretty elf by his side. Children of all ages wait patiently, at least some do, to
get their picture taken and ask Santa for their favorite toys.

  There’s something so innocent about the scene that plays in front of me, making me with I could go back in time when everything was not so black and white.

  “Would you like to have your picture taken too?” my mom asks as she catches me staring at the line.

  “Yeah Mom, I’m sure Santa would love me to sit on his lap.”

  “Maybe not a good idea.”

  We finally find the hair salon and I can’t wait to see the hairdresser’s reaction when she sees my roots. I don’t remember the last time I had my hair cut, or dyed for that matter. If I cared more, I would probably be a little embarrassed too. Mom gives the receptionist our names and we are asked to have a seat in the small waiting area.

  “Maybe we should’ve made an appointment,” I say impatiently. Even before my crazy stage I wasn’t known for being a patient person.

  “Nonsense dear. You really need this more than me.”

  “Gee Mom, thanks. Why don’t you tell me what you really think?” She smiles and pats my hand patiently. I’m about to complain some more when a very happy guy dressed in the skinniest jeans I’ve ever seen calls my name.

  “Jennifer?”

  “That’s me,” I answer unenthusiastically. Here goes nothing.

  “Hi hon. Right this way. So are you ready for the holidays?” He asks in a cheerful voice. I remember that I’m about to trust this guy with my hair so sarcasm has no place in our conversation. I turn on my charm and smile back.

  “Sure am. I just hope you can help me. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything to my hair.”

  “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.” We get to his station and I reluctantly take my hat off. That’s when his smile deserts him and the look of terror covers his face.

  “Wow, darling, did you just get out of jail?” He laughs out loud at his own joke, and I can’t help but join in. Just a few weeks ago, I probably would’ve slapped him silly but today I’m feeling pretty good.

  “You could say that. Listen do whatever you need to do, just make me look good please. I have a party to go to tonight and there’s a man there I hope to take home with me.”

  “Oh girl, say no more.” I spend almost two hours in his chair while he cuts, colors, highlights, and blow dries my hair. When he spins my chair around I almost don’t recognize myself. I look hot, fresh, and young. The length is still long and I don’t think my hair has ever had that kind of shine. The highlights bring out the blue in my eyes; I look freaking sexy. I can’t contain my excitement and it shows all over my face. My mom is just as shocked with the results as I am.

  “Sweetheart, you look beautiful.”

  “She looks hot,” my hairdresser tells her, really pleased with his work. Overtaken with joy, I jump out of my chair and pull him in for a hug.

  “You, my friend, are a magician.”

  “Oh stop it. Listen girlfriend, if this look doesn’t get the man, he’s not worth it.”

  Once we settle the bill, we decide to do some shopping. I have no idea what I’m going to wear but my mom is a woman on a mission, set to find the perfect dress that’s going to get me closer to my goal: David.

  We find what we’re looking for at Macy’s. It’s short and red and molds to my body in all the right places.

  “Mom, I don’t think this is me. I mean look at it, it’s so… out there.”

  “It looks lovely on you and you know it. You have to wear something red, it’s Christmas after all. Plus with this dress, David won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you.” Why did she have to bring him up again? Before I can change my mind, Mom grabs the same exact dress from the hanger and goes to pay for it.

  “Consider this one of your Christmas presents. You’ll have to wait for the rest.” I give her a quick hug and thank my lucky star for blessing me with such an amazing mom.

  A few hours and many more shopping bags later, I drop her off at her house and return to mine to get ready for the party. Every house on my block is decorated with beautiful white twinkling lights obviously ready for the holidays. I can just imagine what they are thinking every time they have to look at my house all bare and sad.

  I park the car in the garage and drop off the shopping bags in the living room. I feel exhausted, happy, and alive. I look through the bags and find the few things I got for Lily. I just couldn’t help myself. The red Santa dress with white trim was made just for her. The matching little black ballerina shoes and red hat are going to be the perfect finishing touches. I still couldn’t think of anything to give David; what I had in mind didn’t come from a store.

  I take a quick shower, careful not to mess up my hair, and then spend some time playing with makeup. When I’m all done and ready, I feel like a new woman. Confident and ready for anything. I grab my coat and walk out to the cold evening, praying that I won’t break my neck on my way there. The streets are slippery, the air crisp. I make it to the party in one piece, although I can no longer feel my feet in the strappy shoes. Maybe I should’ve drove, I think to myself as I push open the large glass door.

  The block party is taking place in one of the largest houses on my street. It is at least forty five hundred square feet and two stories, with high ceilings. There’s no doubt about it, the place is beautiful. The entryway is large and round shaped with a beautiful tall Christmas tree right in the center. A set of staircases on each side give the place a regal feel. There’s marble everywhere, and while it gives an expensive look, it also makes it feel like a mausoleum. Totally not my cup of tea. Before I can nose around some more, a young lady welcomes me and offers me a glass of champagne. She then takes my coat and shows me the way to join the others. As I look around, I become instantly nervous. Most of the ladies are dressed in jeans and knitted Christmas sweaters. In my tiny red dress, I stand out like a sore thumb. I take small sips of my drink, letting my eyes roam around the packed room.

  It’s really not what I expected from a party. It looks more like a family gathering with lots of kids and adults of all ages. There are small groups scattered around the large room, all deep in conversation. I feel like a fish out of water, not really sure if I’m supposed to mingle or just push my way into one of the small groups and pretend to be interested in what they have to say. I’ll have to work really hard at looking like I’m enjoying myself so I start admiring, very closely, the knickknacks and the few pieces of art hanging on the walls. Everyone seems to know each other, chatting nonstop about silly little things. Silly to me, at least. David is in the company of a petite but voluptuous woman, his girlfriend I assume, judging by how close she’s sitting next to him. She’s flirting with him unabashedly, playing with her long hair and pushing her very large assets in his face. I turn around and hope I can conceal my annoyance. After all, I have no reason to be annoyed; he’s a nobody, a stranger really.

  A plump woman walks up to me and puts her hand on my elbow. I immediately recognize her face from the invitation. Her name is Madeline Smith, one of the most influential woman in this community. I know that not because I’m overly interested in her life, but she pretty much listed all that stuff on the invitation. It was more like a resume than anything else. I also know that this is her house and if that doesn’t tell you she’s filthy rich, then the amount of diamonds adorning her ears, neck, and hands is a sure giveaway.

  “Hello Sandy darling, you look marvelous.”

  “It’s Jennifer, actually.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m Jennifer.”

  “Oh yes, that’s right. So how are you my dear? I’m so happy you could join us. I’ve been dying to meet you.”

  “Thank you for inviting me. Then this must be your house?”

  “Yes dear, it sure is. Maybe I can give a tour later?”

  “I would love that. You have a very lovely home.” For whatever reason, she doesn’t look like she’s going to leave any time soon, her hand still on my elbow. She nudges me, then points at somethin
g in the far corner.

  “Look at that tart all over your man. Some women have no shame.”

  “I’m sorry, who?”

  “David, darling, who else. That girl is new in our neighborhood but she sure isn’t wasting any time getting comfortable with him.”

  “Oh. Well she’s more than welcome to him. He’s not my man.” I try not to look at David and the blessed blonde, but it’s hard to ignore them. The woman’s voice is loud and she’s almost sitting on his lap. If Lily weren’t there she probably would.

  “I’m so sorry; I thought you guys were together.”

  “Yeah, we’re not. We’re not even friends, actually. Oh my, I didn’t realize just how late it is. I have another engagement, so if you’ll excuse me.” I push past her voluptuous body and look for the exit. The whole place is starting to feel claustrophobic, and I can’t wait to be out in the open and get some fresh air.

  There are a few kids on the front lawn playing with the fresh snow but other than that, the street is empty. The air feels heavenly, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I did good tonight, I think, and almost pat myself on the back. It must count for something in Dr. Collins’s book, right? I went shopping in a mall full of shoppers, ate in a public place, and even made it to the block party.

  “I thought I’d find you here.” I don’t even have to open my eyes to know who it is. His voice is music to my ears.

  “I needed some fresh air.”

  “You look very pretty tonight.” He sounds nervous.

  “Pretty?”