Boyfriend From Hell (Falling Angels Saga) (13 page)

When we got home, she went into the kitchen, where she brewed a pot of tea. I sat at the dining table watching in silence as she meandered around like a zombie, never a glance in my direction. Done, she poured us each a cup, set two biscotti on a saucer, sat down across from me, and looked at me for the first time since we’d left the restaurant.

“Why?” The single word escaped her lips laced with anger, betrayal, pain.

“He’s not who you think he is,” I stammered.

“Why?” she repeated louder, not allowing me to finish. “I’ve given you everything. I have dedicated my entire life to your happiness. Do you realize the sacrifices I’ve made for you?”

I nodded, the beginnings of shame mounting inside of me.

“I want this, Megan.” Her voice was flat yet decisive. “I want to have a relationship with a man. Armando—”

 “Even if he’s not—” I interjected.

“Yes!” she said, her voice rising unnaturally. “Even if he’s
not!
” These last words coming in a blistering attack.

My head was spinning. I’d seen her angry before, but not like this. This was more than anger, this was… betrayal. She felt betrayed.  

“He has a secret house near the mall,” I blurted in defense of myself. “I saw the old lady from the art gallery, Señora Marisol. The only reason I even noticed her that night at the gallery is she was staring at you so hard, it scared me.  So when I saw her near the mall, I followed her.” The words spilled forth in a stumbling, incomprehensible jumble.

She sat listening, her eyes slowly filling with disbelief. “I want this one thing,” she said when I was done. “One thing for me. Why are you hell bent on destroying it?” Her eyes were awash with tears, tears she willed not to fall.

I opened my mouth to respond, to protest that I wasn’t destroying anything, I was saving her. It was then I realized I was crying like a baby. Fat tears streamed from my eyes.

“I…. I…. I’m
sorry,
” I heard myself whine, as the tears and emotion flowed. In that moment, I saw things differently. It was as if the cloud of confusion had been lifted. I realized then I had been blinded by jealousy.

“I… I was afraid I was going to lose you,” I managed, my chest heaving. “I’m so sor-reeeee!” This last bit a guttural groan.

“As I told you before, I’m not going anywhere.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “By the way, you’re grounded.”

I nodded, as I continued to weep. I couldn’t think about the grounding just then. I couldn’t think about anything. I was too confused.

Later, I lay in bed staring out my window. My eyes were on the overcast sky, my mind a mishmash of errant thought.  I had been jealous of my mother, Armando, Matt, Erin. I was so ashamed of how I had embarrassed my mother… my rock… my friend. I took stunned inventory of myself. Where did this jealousy come from?It was like a slow moving fog that had engulfed me so gradually, I didn’t notice it. And once blanketed in the fog, I’d lost all perspective.

I want her to be happy, I really do. And Matt and Erin are my best friends. Yet, I could not hide from the truth. I was jealous of their relationships.

There are times in our lives when we have to take a hard look in the mirror and see who we really are. I was doing just that, and I didn’t like who I saw. Petty. Jealous. Shallow. These are not words I would normally use to describe myself, and yet that is what I saw—a petty, jealous, shallow girl.

They say change only comes under duress. Losing my mother and my friends was duress enough. I was ready to change.

My thoughts moved to Armando. I hated him from the moment I first laid eyes on him. That was probably because he was perfect for her. My fear of losing my mother had colored my opinion of him. Of course, I knew he was lying about Señora Marisol, and he knew I knew. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care for my mother. Señora Marisol was probably some crazy old Aunt he wasn’t yet ready to spring on her. That made perfect sense.

Everyone has a crazy relative in a closet somewhere. If only I could have realized it earlier, before my jealousy had swallowed me whole, allowing me to embarrass myself, and cause my mother so much pain.

After several hours of dizzying thought, I drifted into a fitful sleep.

Incense.

I awoke with a start. The odor of incense was filling my room. And then the laughter began.

Was I having the dream again? I had been on that nether-world edge, where you’re neither awake nor asleep. I sat up, looked around the room. Nothing. The house was quiet. I was alone. Yet, as I sat there coming full awake, a slow chill came bristling up my spine. I got the distinct feeling I hadn’t been dreaming at all. What I smelled was real. What I’d heard was real. It was the voice of Armando, and he was laughing at me.

#

At school the next day, I began my quest to put the pieces of my life back together. I wanted to start at home in the morning with Suze. I was in the kitchen making cocoa when she emerged sleepy-eyed from her room.

“Hot cocoa,” I said.

“No thanks.”

And that was it, the only words between us before she left for work and me for school.

I wished I could have turned back the clock and lived last night over again. Oh, how different things would have been. But there was no turning back the hands of time. I had created this horrible mess. I needed to fix it.

Erin and Matt were at their lockers chatting when I arrived. When they saw me, the conversation stopped abruptly. Talking about me, no doubt. I approached.

“Got a minute?”

They exchanged dark expressions I couldn’t read. “Sure,” said Matt, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He put an arm around Erin’s shoulder. A united front.  

Suddenly, I needed a jolt of confidence.  If I was going to get through this, I needed to know that they’d forgive me.

“Look, I know I acted like an idiot last night. Heck, I’ve been acting like an idiot for a few weeks now.”

I peered into their faces as I spoke. Their lack of expression or empathy weakened my resolve. Still, I found the courage to push ahead.

“I was jealous… of my mother having Armando in her life… of you guys finding each other.  There was so much happening so soon I guess… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I asked you if you were okay with us seeing each other.” Matt’s words came as an indictment, not a hint of sympathy in them.

“I know.  But I wasn’t aware I was jealous until last night, when I realized what I’d done.”

“Last night you were out of control,” said Erin.

“Yes, I was. And I’m sorry for any pain or embarrassment I’ve caused either of you. I hope you can forgive me.”

I was suddenly spent, as the last of the apology crossed my lips. It was as if I had run a marathon. My arms and legs were lead weights, my head woozy. It was eight in the morning, yet I was ready to go home, fall into bed, cuddle with my binky, and sleep the sleep of the dead… And no, I don’t still have a binky. Mine suspiciously disappeared when I was eleven. I suspect my mother, who had been hiding it from me for months.

“You were a real pill last night,” Erin said.

I nodded.

“’Dark hair streaked with gray. Looks like an escapee from a horror flick.’” She repeated my words from the night before with dramatic flair. Then suddenly she smiled. “Drama Queen!”

And now Matt was smiling too. “I thought Armando was gonna have a coronary.” They began laughing uncontrollably, as if they’d been hanging onto it all morning.

I was stunned. “So… you… forgive me?”

“I don’t know who that person was roaming these halls the past few of weeks, but it certainly wasn’t you. Welcome back.” Erin threw her arms around me, hugging me dearly.  “I missed you,” she said softly.

“I missed you, too.”

I looked up. Matt was staring at me, his expression serious.  “No more of this crazy talk, Megan. From now on, you leave your mother and Armando alone.”

I nodded.

“For real this time, or I promise we’re gone forever.”

I nodded again, my head bobbing up and down like a bobblehead. “No more. I swear.” I extended my arms to him, wiggled my fingers. “
Now
can I have a hug?”

The three of us stood hugging until the bell rang.

#

When Erin and I walked into English together, the expression on Maudrina’s face went from pleasure to pain in two-point-five seconds.

It was obvious she’d been saving the seat next to her for me, even though no one ever sat there. When she spotted the two of us, she quickly looked away, pretending she was going over some homework. Surreptitiously, she removed the sweater that had been draped across the seat. I excused myself and approached the now-vacant seat.

“Thanks for saving it for me.”

“Huh?” she said, turning as if she hadn’t noticed I was there.

“My seat. Thanks for saving it.” I plopped my books down on the desk.

“Umm, sure,” she said, eying me with distrust.

I sat and looked over at Erin, who was trying to figure out what I was doing. I shot her an innocent smile.

“You don’t have to,” the voice next to me whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t have to sit here if you don’t want to. You guys are friends again. I’m cool.”

“I know I don’t have to sit here, silly. I want to.” I reached over and rubbed her arm. Faint doggy odor wafted over to me. “By the way, I’m not grounded anymore.”  Maudrina’s eyes filled with hopeful expectation. “I was wondering if you still wanted to have that play date?”

“You serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious. I’ve been looking forward—”

“Yes! When?”

“How about Saturday afternoon?”

“You are going to love Sam. He is soo fun.”

Visions of frolicking on the floor with smelly Sam invaded my thoughts. “Can’t wait,” I said. And I meant it.

I have to admit, the new me had me feeling pretty good about myself. Matt and Erin were my friends again, and I couldn’t get over the smile on Maudrina’s face when I told her I’d be coming over to play with her dogs.

When class ended, I formally introduced my old friend to my new friend. They eyed each other with caution. Getting them together was going to take some time.

After the brief intros, I excused myself and headed to the first floor stairwell for a rendezvous with Guy. I’d done a good thing. I deserved a kiss.

I arrived in the stairwell first. A few students drifted through, but by the time the first bell had rung, the place was a ghost town. Perfect, except… no Guy. I pushed open the stairwell door and peered out into the corridor. A few stragglers, like mice fleeing a sinking ship, raced to get to class before the second bell.

Brrrng!

The second bell. The corridor emptied. I ducked back into the stairwell, so as not to be seen by a roving hall monitor, pulled out my phone and texted:

Where R U?

I waited two, three, four, five minutes. No reply. I sent a second text:

Not here n 5 Im lvng.

I waited another ten minutes before heading off to class—late again, and unkissed. It was then I noticed the ache in the pit of my stomach. It seemed to grow with every moment.

Oh, darn!
I thought. I’d never felt anything like it before. But I knew exactly what it was. I was falling in love.

When my mother got home from work I was waiting with her favorite flowers—peonies, her favorite fun food—grilled fontina cheese on sour dough ciabatta, wearing her favorite outfit that she’d bought me—brown suede skirt and vest that I couldn’t stand, and reading from her favorite book of poetry—
Love Poems
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...” I recited as she walked through the door.

She stared at me, surprise etched across her face. It was as if she couldn’t believe I was capable of such thoughtfulness. 

“I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach…” I continued.

After she put down her things, I escorted her into the dining room where I had candles burning.

She sniffed the cheesy fragrant air mixed with the vanilla of the candles.

I smiled. “Can’t get anything past you. Yes, that is your fave, grilled fontina ciabatta.”

She nodded, still absorbing it all.

“Sit,” I said. “Dinner will be served in a few.”

“You hate that outfit,” she said, sounding as if I was up to something. I was.

“But
you
love it.”

She nodded again, and I thought I saw the vestiges of a smile chinking her armor.

“I love thee to the level of everyday’s most quiet need…”

“I love thee freely,” she said picking up the verse, a full on smile now shining through. And for the first time I had the feeling I might just be able to win her back.

“Peonies,” she said, eying the flowers in the center of the table. “They’re out of season.”

“Tell me about it. You have no idea how hard it is to get peonies in this town this time of year.”

“Must have cost a small fortune.”

“Lose the word small, and you’re on the right track… But worth every penny.” My tone turned somber. “I know it’s going to take time for you to forgive me. But I want you to know, I meant what I said last night. I’m sorry, and I wish you and Armando nothing but the best.”

After a moment: “That took a lot of guts.”

I shook my head. “No. Squeezing into this outfit took a lot of guts.”

She chuckled. Just what I was going for. Her expression softened. “You’re forgiven,” she said.

The sweetest words I’d ever heard. The weight I’d been carrying on my shoulders all day was suddenly lifted. I felt like a death-row inmate receiving a full pardon from the Governor. “But you’re still grounded,” she added sternly.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Later that night we watched
Sense And Sensibility
, one of our absolute favorite DVDs. And we both cried for like the umpteenth time when Marianne’s heart got broken by roguish Willoughby.