Second First Impressions(83)
He hates that I can’t put my faith in him and leave. I hate that he won’t stay with me and make sure that Providence survives. We both yelled at each other things like, You don’t love me and This was a huge mistake.
Bad stuff. Stuff that keeps me awake.
“You know what, Ruthie?” he’d said as he shouldered his backpack. “I can’t make you leave. I can’t sling you over my shoulder and carry you out of here. When you do come, I want you to walk out of here on your own two feet. But I’m really scared that you aren’t brave enough to.” He touched a thumb under my chin, walked out, and I grasped the locked doorknob of his cottage like a lifeline.
“I’m still pissed off at you,” Melanie says now, but I’m not surprised. She says it about twice an hour, but the venom has worn off. “I told you to not fall in love with the first boy you saw. I told you he was a Lamborghini, and look what you’ve done. You’ve driven yourself into a wall. You’re heartbroken.”
“Yes.” I can’t do anything but agree, because I’ve seen what I look like in the mirror. I’m back to ninety-five years old.
“I put so much work into creating a program to find you a good man. A safe man.” She wobbles a little on the ladder and I reach up a hand to steady her. “You didn’t even go have one terrible unsatisfying date at the Thunderdome. I wanted to sit at the bar and spy on you and we could have gotten drunk afterward and bitched about men.”
“I know.”
“Then what happened?”
“I saw his hair at the gas station. Then he turned around, and … well, you know what he looks like. Then he laughed. I never told you, did I? He mistook me for an elderly woman. It was a correct first impression, really.”
“You’re not old,” she protests.
“He adored me. I have no proof of it, and maybe it’s fading by the day, but he really did. You said I deserved that. So, even if I never see him again, I won’t regret it. One thing Providence has taught me is, life’s short.”
“He’s not answering his phone.”
“I know.” At least it’s not just me going to his voice mail. “Mel, you’ve done a great job here.”
Melanie has arranged catering and bought alcohol, created a cohesive decoration scheme, and taken care of every last detail. For the first time ever, I will be attending as a guest. Mel’s contract expires tomorrow, but she assures me she’ll still come. Maybe. If she’s not too pissed off with me.
“You’ve put in a lot of effort in the years gone by,” she says like she’s sorry for me. She climbs down the ladder and decides to tell me something. “And this is the last Christmas party. I’m sorry, Ruthie, but this site has been mismanaged to the point that I don’t think PDC would get a fast-enough return to continue on like this. It was always their plan,” she adds gently. “The end date on the tenancy agreements, December thirty-first, next year? That’s your exit date, too. Maybe you should decide if you want to move that forward and leave on your own terms.”
She goes off to search in a cupboard for more tinsel.
My phone pings; it’s my forum friends chat. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were messaging to ask me to step down as forum admin. I open the message and see it’s a link.
ACTOR WHO PLAYS DAD IN HEAVEN SENT CHARGED WITH SEXUAL ASSAULTS DATING BACK TO 1990s
I read through the article, and it seems that no one on set was safe from the actor who played Pastor Pierce Percival. I sit down in a chair by the window and stare at the green world outside.
My pleasures in life are modest. A bath, dinner at the same time, and the uncomplicated, wholesome television show that parented me through the hardest years of my life. I had a childhood of bullying, loneliness, and wavering faith, but no matter what, I knew what time this show was on. And I think of little Teddy, sitting at his own television.
Everything ends. I know that better than anybody. But I really need something to hold on to. I blink my tears into my cardigan sleeve, and on the pavement outside, I see it: a tiny, determined little lump, edging across the path. How do they keep moving themselves, despite the endless stretch of lawn ahead? They just do, inch by inch.
I’ve got to inch my way out of this, too. “Mel, the tortoises are endangered. Surely that counts for something.”
“It should,” she says, thinking. “But PDC will have some environmental assessor on their payroll to write a report that says it’ll be fine. You’re the only one who cares about those tortoises, I think.”
“That’s true. I’ve got records for the last six years, showing how the population has grown with just the tiniest bit of care and attention.”
“Oh, Miss Ruthie is looking determined. She’s decided she ain’t going down without a fight.” How I’ve missed Mel’s open, unguarded grin.
“I wanted to thank you, Mel. You were the first person I ever met who took my side.”
She’s puzzled by my wording. “How do you mean?”
“You’ve always believed in me. I know the Sasaki Method was not about dating. Not really. It was you trying to get me to think about myself. To consider myself as a candidate for the human race. You made me be twenty-five. And I’m really, really grateful to you.” I put my arms around her and hug.