The Face In The Mirror (4 page)

I didn’t want to admit it, not to me or anyone else, but I couldn’t wait for
him to get there. Suddenly, being alone was the worst thing I could imagine. I
scrolled through the movie channels to see what was available and had a couple
of comedies picked out. I wanted to laugh, and who knew better than me what
he liked?

It was just after three when he arrived, and the sight of him standing at the
door brought buckets full of memories that made me smile. I opened it to
allow him in, and as he hugged me, his arms around me sent shivers up my
spine. I know he felt it, but he didn’t acknowledge it, and I was glad. He came
in and set a couple of bottles of wine on the table.

“I found a couple of funny movies, you can pick. I just want to laugh,” I
told him.
He moved to the living room and sat on the sofa. “Let’s see what you’ve
got.
Pirates of the Caribbean, Bridesmaids, Night at the Museum
… All sound good.”
I pulled up one more, “I remember you like Westerns.
True Grit
, the
remake.”
“You said you wanted to laugh.”
“I guess I just don’t want to cry,” I told him. “Nothing sappy or cry-baby.”

I made popcorn and we got comfortable on the sofa to watch the movie.
Mitchell had chosen
Night at the Museum
.
“Nice flashback,” he said at one point. I knew what he meant - Granny’s
house on the sofa eating popcorn and watching a movie - but I ignored him,
because I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure if the nice memory was a good
thing, or if I was holding on to the past to keep from thinking about now.

By 5:45 we’d laughed our way through the museum with Teddy Roosevelt,
Attila the Hun, Lewis and Clark, and the rest of the characters in the movie. I
got up, and stretched my legs and announced, “I’m hungry!”

I went to the bathroom and when I came back, Mitchell had
True Grit
ready
to watch. “I called for pizza. If you don’t want to watch the movie, we don’t
have to. I can go home after we eat.”

“No, that’s fine, I don’t want you to leave. Not yet, anyway,” I added
quickly.
“Renie, you don’t need to worry.”
“I’m not worried. I just don’t want to rush. I don’t know what all this is.” I
took a deep breath, and as I did the doorbell and my phone rang at the same
time. I looked at the number and felt a lump rise in my throat.
Mitchell headed for the door as I answered the call, “Hello?”
“Renee, it’s Martin. I need to talk to you about Mona’s affairs.”
“I knew I’d hear from you, I just didn’t think it’d be this quick.” Mitchell
watched me, and waited.
“She had everything tied up and ready. Can you come on Tuesday?”
“Oh, that’s so soon,” I said, and started to cry.
“I’ve already called Midge and Derek. They’re just waiting on you.”
“Yes. Tuesday. That’s fine. What time?” I asked in short barks. “Thank
you, I’ll see you then.” After I hung up, I pulled my knees to my chest and
started bawling. Mitchell sat down beside me, slipped his arm around my
shoulder, and let me cry a while.
When I finally calmed down, he squeezed my shoulders and asked, “What’s
going on?”
“The will,” was all I could spit out.
“When? I’ll go with you,” he said, his hand caressing my back, comforting
me.
“Four on Tuesday, but I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I volunteered,” he said. “If you don’t want me to go, that’s
another thing, but I’ll be happy to go, be there with you to give you comfort,
and support - whatever you need.”
“Are you sure? I mean, you have a job and…”
“I told you, Renie, I’ll be happy to go with you. I’ll pick you up at 3:30,
where?”
“Here, I’m going back to work Monday and I’ll come home early on
Tuesday.”

We enjoyed the pizza and chatted, mostly about the movie, and then sat
together on the sofa to watch the second one. I tried to pay attention to the
movie, but I couldn’t get past the fact that Mitchell Donovan was on my sofa –
beside me.

Later, he told me he was going to go home, and he would see me on
Tuesday. When he got ready to go, I walked him to the door. He hugged me,
and turned to leave. As he walked away, part of me was sad and wanted to
scream ‘DON’T GO!’ But a bigger part of me felt relieved. I had to figure out
what all of this meant. It’s what I do – figure things out.

“I didn’t want you to, but I’m glad you did,” I said, honestly. “I need to get
my head in the right place.”
“Me too,” he said, and as soon as he did, I burst into laughter.
“Nice,” he said sarcastically, and then he was laughing as hard as I was. “I’ll
call you tomorrow.”
“I’ll hope so.”

“You, too,” I said and looked away because I was afraid I’d drool. “Want
some tea? It’s sweet.”
“You’re stalling. Come on, let’s go,” he said and grabbed my purse, guiding
me to the door.
“I dread this so much that I hurt all over. My whole body aches,” I said as
we drove away.
“I know,” he said, and patted my knee. As he did, I swear I felt lightning
bolts rip through my body!

We arrived at 3:56, and as we approached I dreaded even putting my hand
on the door to open it. My heart raced, my hands were sweaty, and I felt
nauseous. When I walked in, Midge and Derek were waiting, along with Martin
Michels, Mom’s attorney. Mitchell took a seat in the back of the room and
Derek stood and hugged me. I know I was stiff as a board when he did, but I
couldn’t warm up to him. I felt such bitterness and hurt. I wasn’t ready to make
nice with him.

I finally sat in the seat beside Midge. She looked back over her shoulder at
Mitchell, and then took my hand and squeezed it with a happy smile on her
face.

The attorney read the legal documents and I watched Derek listen intently.
It was all I could do to hold it together. Finally, Martin read the will. It was
pretty cut and dried. She had a life insurance policy that would pay for the
funeral and cremation. Whatever was left from that policy went to Derek. He
read that all of her personal financial assets - the condo and contents, and her
car, were left to me. The balances of her bank accounts were split between
Midge and me.

I saw Derek’s face. So did Martin, and he read on. “If Derek Wayne
Ridgeway, contests or protests anything, in any way, he will be excluded from
the will completely.”

I know my mouth fell open. I was in shock, but Midge didn’t seem
surprised at all. The legal clerk had documents for Derek to sign and once he
did, he stormed out of the office. I couldn’t breathe, and I started to hiccup,
trying to catch my breath. Martin poured water for me and Midge hugged me
close. “She knew what she was doing,” she whispered in my ear as Mitchell
walked to the front of the room. Midge introduced him to Martin as I
regrouped.

When we got ready to leave, Midge hugged Mitchell and said, “Stay with
her a while, Mitchell. She’ll say she’s OK, but I know her, later is when she’ll
need someone and she’ll be alone.”

When we arrived back at my house, I invited him in, but I stressed to him,
“I’ll be fine. Really, I’m OK.”
“Listen, I brought work clothes, we don’t have to sleep together, I’ll sleep
in the spare room, but you might need someone to talk to, or a hug, or a
shoulder, later,” he said with a tender smile.
I rummaged through the cupboards and the freezer and made sausage
jambalaya for dinner. I liked it – Mitchell loved it. We cleaned up and Mitchell
went to shower. I went to check the sheets on the bed in the spare room. They
smelled fresh, like the Gain detergent I used, and I turned the bed down for
him. I was going to be strong and not sleep with him.
When I turned, I saw him standing in the doorway. He wore only a pair of
gym shorts; he hadn’t slipped the t-shirt over his head yet. The lines of his body
fascinated me. His hair was still wet, and I don’t know what the hell brought it
on, but I started to cry.
No. It wasn’t crying. I was bawling - body shaking, gut wrenching bawling.
I sat on the edge of the bed trying to get myself together doing that huh-huhhuh-can’t-breathe crying!
“Where in the hell did that come from?” I mumbled. “WHERE?” I
shouted, feeling completely out of control.
Mitchell pulled a t-shirt over his head and sat beside me. He took my hand,
placing it tenderly on my heart.
“Here,” he said. “It overflowed, I’m afraid.”
He pulled me close and I know I drenched his shirt in my tears and snot.
He didn’t seem to care. He just held me there and let me cry. I felt a soft kiss
on the top of my head that rocked my soul and brought the tears even harder.
His arms surrounded me in a hug.
I pulled away and rose to leave. “I’m going to bed,” I said, still blubbering.
He crawled in and pulled the covers up.
“Good night, Renie…”
I turned out the light and left. When I crawled in my bed, I cried into my
pillow for what seemed like hours. Finally, I saw the hall light come on and
when I looked, he was standing in the doorway, without the t-shirt.
Jesus, can a man look more beautiful than he does right now?
I wondered, as I
scooted to the other side of the bed, saying nothing. He crawled in beside me,
holding me in his arms, spooning me as I cried.

When the clock went off at six the next morning, I rolled over to find
Mitchell hugging the pillow, a vision so familiar to me that it made me smile.
He looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake him, but he stirred and rolled
toward me. As he did, I noticed a tattoo on his left bicep that I hadn’t seen
before. I reached to touch it, tracing the out line of a heart that had a jagged
tear through the middle, separating it in two halves.

“Hoping to fill it in someday, joining the two halves into one. Haven’t had
a reason why, yet.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I told him, “I’m gonna call out from
work today. I know when I go look in the mirror my eyes will be red and
swollen. I can feel them puffy, now. I just don’t think I’m up for it.”
I’m a business contract administrator and had documents in my briefcase
that I knew I could look over from home. “I just can’t go there today.”
He scooted closer and whispered in my ear. His breath was warm on my
neck as I curled into him. “If you call out, I will.”
“You can’t, you need to go to work,” I laughed, nervously.
He owned an electrical repair and installation business, and reminded me,
“I’m the boss, remember? Just say it, Renie.”
“It,” I laughed.

We spent the day together not doing much of anything. There was a lot of
conversation, something we weren’t so good at toward the end of our marriage.
Actually, it was me who wasn’t good at it. Mitchell tried, but I’d had my
stubborn head made up that we weren’t in a good place, so I’d just shut him
out, pushed him as far away as I could.

He didn’t bring up the past, focusing instead on the future, and I was glad.
I needed more time to think about what I would say to him about the past. I
knew I had to address it, but I needed to arrange my thoughts and have a plan.

“So, with this money from your mom, it seems that you might be in a place
to make some changes. What are you thinking?” he asked as I was looking for
something to fix for dinner.

“I wouldn’t have asked,” he said, his grin making that dimple appear as a
beacon drawing me to him.
“It’s been a dream for a long time.”
“Something with cooking, I’m sure,” he smiled as he said the words. He
knew my dreams like no one else.
“I’ve explored it some, but there’s plenty more homework to do. I want to
prepare ‘grab and go’ meals for others. Everything they need to throw dinner
together in about twenty minutes, or throw in a crockpot before they leave for
work. Fresh for the ‘grab and go’, and frozen for plan-ahead meals.”
“It sounds like something that could be a winner in this area. This part of
town is full of working moms, in an age where people want to eat healthy. The
thing about that is that a drive through is so much easier after a busy day. You
should do it. Do your research and figure out what it takes. Do it, Renie. I’ll be
happy to help you.”
We finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen. I watched him. My mind
was racing. I wanted to ask him to stay, but I wasn’t sure where we were.
“I need to go, or I’m going to want to stay,” Mitchell said after he’d dried
and put the last pot away.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“I’m going to make this easy for both of us, Renie.” He turned to me and
pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, grabbing his
things.
It was late June. Mitchell called every day to check on me, and I was always
happy when it was him - hesitant, but happy. I went back to work, but
reviewing contracts was not what was on my mind. Well, maybe it was, only I
was thinking more of reviewing and researching the idea for my business, so I
guess I was thinking of a contract of my own.

Finally, Mitchell invited himself over. I didn’t say yes, but I dang sure
couldn’t make my mouth spit out the word no.
I hadn’t seen him since the day we played hooky. I’d just gotten home from
work when he arrived. I opened the door to greet him and I felt giddy… but I
kept that to myself.
I’d thrown beef tips and a mole sauce, in the crockpot before I’d left for
work, and had green peppers and onions to sauté and serve with yellow rice.
“Wow, something smells scrumptious!” he said as he followed me to the
kitchen.
It’s you,
I thought. He was fresh out of the shower, his hair still damp, and
he smelled like heaven. He brought a bottle of wine and opened it, pouring us
each a glass.
“Let’s sit a few minutes and chill. Is that OK?” he asked.
“Sure, I could put my feet up a minute,” I said. We talked about the last
two weeks and as we did, I realized how much I’d missed him.
Finally, I slipped on an apron and finished preparing our meal. Mitchell set
the table and poured more wine in our glasses. We sat down to eat.
Conversation was light and when I finished eating, I pushed my plate aside and
waited for Mitchell to finish. I know he was wondering what was on my mind,
but he waited for me to speak, instead of asking.
“I was young and immature,” I said. “Finishing classes I despised
overwhelmed me. I hated that I allowed my dad to influence my career choice.
You were away so much completing your apprenticeship. Our schedules
pushed us apart. I was alone.” He pushed his plate to the side and waited for
me to continue.
“The first year was bliss. I loved being your wife. I loved that you came
home each evening and we’d sit and talk about our days, and we’d eat dinner
together every night. I loved that every morning when I opened my eyes you
were lying there beside me.
“And then things changed. You started going in earlier to learn more about
your job, and then school started for me and I didn’t get home until late.
Homework kept me up later and then the whole thing would start all over again
the next day. I tried to make the weekends make up for what we missed, but it
was a challenge.”
I paused. This was hard. “I need a schedule, Mitchell. I need continuity,
and our lifestyle didn’t have that. I was alone too much and I hated that. I
know I didn’t handle it well. I know that, but I did what I thought I needed to
do.”
“We should have talked,” he said sadly.
“You’re right, Mitchell, we should have, but I wasn’t at that place. My
parents never talked about anything. It’s what I knew, so ignoring it was easiest.
Conversation at that time in our lives would have turned into a pissing match,
because that’s where I was. You would have been calm and mature, just like
you always were, no matter what was happening. I would have yelled, I would
have cried, and it would have just made it worse.”
“But Renie…”
“Oh Mitchell, you know what I’m saying is true. It was timing, bad timing,
and thank goodness we didn’t talk,” I said.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“If we would have talked, and if I’d yelled and cried, we wouldn’t be civil
now.”
“And that’s a good thing?” he asked.
“It is. For the last nine years I’ve made it my life’s mission to not be
anywhere you might turn up. This is a big place, but really it’s a small town.
Granny kept me informed about what you were doing. Knowing her, she knew
my fears, but she never let on. I dreaded the possibility of bumping into you
because I knew we’d have to talk. But what I dreaded even more was the
thought that if I did bump into you, and you were with another woman, I
would lose it right there. I’m enjoying talking to you now. I’m sorry for what I
threw away, for what we missed, but I enjoy this.”
“Me, too,” he said.

We cleaned up the kitchen and moved to the living room. Mitchell was
quiet and it alarmed me. I knew he was processing what I’d said. As we sat
together on the sofa, I picked up a notebook. “Can I show you something?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. I started making notes, all kinds
of notes, and I’ve been on the Internet searching for recipes and for info on
getting a business up and running. I haven’t really looked at the documents
from Mom’s estate to see exactly what kind of money I have access to. I’m
waiting on Martin to finish some things with taxes and all that.”

I held the notebook in my lap a minute before I continued. The thought of
my mom’s estate overwhelmed me. “I have all those papers, I just couldn’t
bring myself to look at them. I will, but based on what I know, I believe there’s
enough money to get this going. Now, I’ve just got to think about the nuts and
bolts of all of it. I haven’t been able to think of anything else.”

Well, that’s what I told him. Actually there
was
one other thing I couldn’t
stop thinking about. Him.
He flipped through my notes with a quick glance, and smiled. “This is
good, Renie. I think you need to dig some more. I’ve been through this
process. I can help you,” he offered once more.
“I’d like your help,” I said, meaning it, but I looked down at the book so
not to make eye contact with him. I hesitated with the next thing on my mind.
“What else?” he asked, finally. “I can tell there’s more going on in there.”
He tapped my forehead with his finger to make his point.
“Do you have plans on Saturday and Sunday?”
“You asking me to go away for the weekend?” he grinned.
“Well, I have a chore to do that I know I can’t tackle alone, emotionally,
and every time I picture myself asking Midge, I see her being emotional. I can’t
handle both of us being there like that. I’ve put it off too long.”
“You need to go to your mom’s?”
“I do. I’ve made a list of what I need to tackle first, just a little at a time,
but I can’t go there by myself. I get anxious just thinking about it.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said.
“Would you?”
“Yes, Renie. I’ll be there for you.”
“You always were, Mitchell. I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
“Let’s just look forward,” he said.
He thought a minute, flipped out his phone to pull up a calendar and said,
“Let’s make it next weekend. It’s the 4
^th
of July and it’ll give us an extra day.”