The Face In The Mirror (8 page)

Lying in bed later, curled into Mitchell’s arm, he kissed me and spoke softly
against my lips, “Jesus, Renie, you’re going to make it awful hard to leave you
when this weekend is over.”
“Let’s just enjoy now, OK?”

I found that sex with Mitchell wasn’t only amazing, earth shattering and
mind-blowing – and it was all of those things - it was comfortable, too. I wasn’t
freaked out about getting naked. I wasn’t worried that I wouldn’t do something
right or not please him; I knew what he liked. I knew what he wanted.

It dawned on me that the sex I’d had in the last nine years was never even
close to what Mitchell and I had shared. I realized that I had compared every
experience to what I knew, and no one else ever measured up. This was what
had been missing – this man.

Friday morning I woke early and slipped from the bed to start coffee. I
thought about breakfast, and remembered seeing some sausage and more of the
frozen biscuits in the freezer. Sausage biscuits sounded like good southern
comfort food. While I waited for the coffee, I wandered around and decided
what I needed to tackle before we headed home.

When he finally rounded the corner, Mitchell was singing. “The best part
of waking up is Folger’s in your cup. Good morning!” he said in an obnoxious,
chipper voice.

“I made love to a beautiful woman last night. What’s not to be happy
about?” he replied, and then wrapped his arms around me.
He went to the kitchen and poured the coffee that had just finished
brewing. He fixed both cups and handed me mine, just the way I liked it. I
smiled because he remembered.
“What’s all this?” he asked.
“I thought I’d make sausage biscuits. There’s still plenty of good stuff in
the freezer. I took inventory and we have stuff for dinner meals the next
weekend we come.”
“The next weekend?”
“Yes, Mitchell. I don’t know that I can be here without you,” I replied.
“What’s the plan after we eat?” he asked.
“Box up some of the office stuff and take it with me. I’ll go through it
when I can. I have to make a dent in there. I need to remember to bring a
shredder next time, there’s already a box of stuff that needs shredding.”
“I don’t have one at home, I’ll run out and get one, and I’ll shred while you
sort.”
“Deal,” I said.
We spent three hours in the office, having what Mitchell called an ‘Enron
party’ as he shredded documents. He made mimosas with orange juice that I’d
discovered in the freezer and a bottle of Asti that he found in the pantry. We’d
already filled three trash bags with shredded papers and junk.
Suddenly, the alarm on his watch sounded. “What’s that for?” I asked as I
looked up from the pile of papers I was sorting through.
“Break time,” he said. “We’re going for a swim.”
“Seriously? I’m in the middle of…”
“Nothing that can’t wait. I’m having visions of fuchsia. Come on,” he said
as he reached for my hand. “We’ll swim, come back and have some lunch, and
then work a couple more hours.”

We went to the pool and enjoyed a swim, and then relaxed in the sun a bit
before going back up to the condo. I returned to the office and dove into the
filing cabinet drawers. Around six that evening, Mitchell ran out and grabbed
dinner from Taco Bell. Later, he scanned the movie channel.

“How about an inside date?”
“What?”
“Is there any popcorn in the pantry?” he asked.
“You wanna watch a movie?” I asked.
“If there’s popcorn,” he chuckled.
I scrounged through the pantry. I thought I’d seen a package of the

microwave kind when I was cleaning in there, and found it. “Got it.”
“Ever seen
Salmon Fishing in the Yemen
?” he inquired.
“Never even heard of it,” I said, and flopped down on the sofa beside him.
“I’ve seen it, but it’s good enough to see again,” he said.

Two hours flew by. The movie captivated me and I’d lost track of the time.
“Mitchell, I had no idea what to expect. I had no preconceptions about
what this movie would be and I am pleasantly surprised. It’s one of the most
ridiculous story lines ever. I mean, creating a place for salmon fishing in the
Middle East? But the stories within the story were thought provoking and witty.
I loved the unexpected love between Harriet and Dr. Jones. I kept hoping that
they would find their way to each other, and they did. Oh, it was one of the
best movies I’ve ever seen!”

I realized I was babbling, and looked over at Mitchell who was watching
me with a satisfied grin. “What? I loved it! It surprised me!”
“I love that you loved it,” he said. “Renie, I love your passion and
excitement over things like this. I knew you’d love it, because I know you.”

I wanted to scream,
MITCHELL DONOVAN, DON’T EVER LEAVE
ME!
But I couldn’t even speak those words yet, much less shout them. My
fears over my stupid choices in our past paralyzed me, so I just curled into his
arms and hoped that my kiss would let him know that I was glad he was with
me.

On Sunday afternoon, we loaded the truck and headed home around 4:30.
The ride home was quiet. I was thinking about work - I did not want to go
back. I was thinking about Mitchell - I absolutely did not want him to leave me,
but I wasn’t sure how to tell him. I was thinking about my dad and brother - I
knew, without question, that I wasn’t ready to encounter either of them
anytime soon. And I was thinking about Convenient Cuisine – I wanted to
make it happen.
“OK,” Mitchell said after a bit. “I can’t stand it any longer. Where the hell
are you, and what are you thinking?” he asked.
“Want the answers in that order?”
“Sure,” he said looking my way with a smile.
“Work. I dread going there every day. There is so much more to life than
paperwork. I never work with people. Oh, sure, there are the other girls I work
with in the office, but I mean interaction with people! I ask myself how much
longer I can stand it.”
“And?”
“I take the fifth on the next thought until I have more time to think about
it.”
He looked my way, raised one eyebrow, and gave me a sexy grin. The grin
made the dimple appear. “OK, I’ll wait.”
“My dad, and Derek,” I said, and paused.
“I can imagine the emotions you’re going through.”
“Betrayal, hurt, anger, hate. Mitchell, I can’t see past the hate, and then I
feel guilty for the way I feel.”
“It’s OK, Renie, really. I get it. Someone else may not, but I do. We grow
up idolizing our parents, and sometimes we find that they aren’t perfect.
Sometimes they aren’t even likable. I believe that sometimes we need to just
leave the hurt and betrayal behind, and move on without them.”
“Spoken like someone who knows. Do you ever hear from your dad?”
“Nope. I quit taking his calls a while back. He finally got it and quit trying.
When he first left, I longed for that phone call that never came. Then, so many
years later when he was lonely and did call, I was beyond giving a shit about
him.”
“I don’t think I ever looked up to my dad. He was never around, and when
he was, he was far more interested in whatever Derek was doing. And Derek
had his head so far up the big guy’s ass trying to please him, be like him, that I
don’t think he could take a dump without Dad’s approval.”
“What else were you thinking about, Renie?”
“Oh, dreams.”
“You know what they say,” he said. Looking my way, he winked.
“About what?”
“A dream is a wish your heart makes.”
“I’m still trying to sort through my dreams, gathering my thoughts,
thinking about the future, a business plan…”
“You know you have to move on this. You
can’t
put this back on a shelf.
You owe it to your mom as well as yourself, to explore this, and I believe that
others will be waiting to benefit from your vision.”
“Mitchell,” I said and paused. “Thank you. Thank you for being here. With
me.”
“Is that the thought you pled the fifth on?”
“I’m sticking with the fifth.” I smirked, but my mind was racing.

As we got closer to home, I decided I had more to say. I gulped in a big
breath and said, “Mitchell, I don’t want you to leave me.”
“Waiving your fifth-amendment rights, I see.” We stopped at a red light
and he turned to me. His gaze was intense, seeming to look right through me,
seeing my soul, my thoughts – my heart.
Finally, he asked, “Why?”
“Not because I don’t want to be alone. Because I want to be together.
There’s a big difference.”
“Just for the night?”
“What do you want?”
“No, Renie, you started this conversation. You opened this door. I want to
know what
you
want.”
“You, Mitchell. All of you. I want to be together with you.”
“Don’t open a door you aren’t ready to continue through, Renie, because I
won’t
let you close it on me again. Make sure what you really want. I mean it.
You
won’t
walk away from me again.”
I thought deeply about his words. I heard him stress ‘won’t’ twice and I
knew I could never walk away from him again. Hell, I was already anxious
because I didn’t want him to leave me alone when he left me to go home.
“Oh, Mitchell, I was so stupid before. I want you. I want you to stay the
night with me. I want you to hold me, make love to me, and I want to wake up
with you in the morning, and have dinner with you tomorrow evening.”
“You sure? You need to be sure because this is a big deal. You have to
know your heart because you can’t break mine again.”
“Yes, Mitchell. I’m sure. I want us to be partners. I want to be with you
and I’ll work hard to make you happy. I want to share coffee, cuddles, secrets
and dreams. I want to be together with you,” I said once more. I looked up and
we were in front of a house I didn’t recognize. “Where are we?”
“My house. I need clothes.”
Hearing Renie say that she didn’t want me to leave was a huge step for her
and I knew it. But she wasn’t going to get off easily. I’d waited too long for this
moment. When I’d asked why, her response was sweet music to my ears.
‘Because I want to be together’. As I watched her, that beautiful face looking at
me with apprehension moved me to my core.
I’d tried over the years to be pissed at her, but all I ever felt was love. I
tried not to see her face through the screen door at Granny’s when I closed my
eyes. I tried not to visualize her smile, the sparkle in her eyes when she was
happy and the red tip of her nose after she’d been crying. I tried not to think
about the days apart, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the days together. And
I tried like hell not to see her when I was having sex with someone else, but I
always did. She was my Renie.
“Are you sure?” I wondered as we pulled in her driveway.
“I’m sure,” she responded, letting me know that I’d spoken my thoughts
aloud.
“I’m OK with us going slow so you can think everything through. I know
how you are, but this is my life, too.”
“Mitchell, I’ve thought more and more about this since you came back into
my life. I’ve already told you that I thought I was too young. You were older;
old enough to have a better, smarter, wiser head about you. I was in love with
being in love. I loved all the things we’d shared and I thought that was all there
was to it. I don’t think I really knew what marriage was. Not the commitment
part, the everything else part.
“I didn’t have the best example. My father came home late every night, and
there were times that I believe my mom was relieved that he wasn’t there. I
loved them, but I don’t remember very many family dinners. Oh, we had the
holidays and such, but just not dinnertime. I think I wanted a marriage that
didn’t really exist. I had an unrealistic vision.”
She looked up at me and smiled. “I wanted what I believed a marriage
should be. Together time. Sitting down to eat and talk about our day. But our
life got tangled up in school and apprenticeships and our time apart became
more and more. My dad kept telling me that there was always a way out, and I
guess I let him influence my thinking. Why, I’ll never know, but I did. Mom
begged me not to listen to him, to think on my own, but I think his voice was
louder.”
She glanced away. I watched her. Knowing her so well, I could sense that
she was deep in thought. Finally, she looked up again. “I’m very sorry. I want
to tell you that for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll be together with you.”

The next month flew by. I tried not to crowd her, or rush us, because I
wanted to make sure she was sure. If we weren’t together at night, we were on
the phone, talking for hours, catching up and learning each other again, sharing
conversations like we’d had learning each other so many years ago.

On Wednesday, I had a meeting after work and called her when I got home
to say goodnight. It was late and she was already in bed. She told me about
some discoveries she’d made while looking into her business.

“So now you know my dreams, Mitchell. Tell me yours,” she said.
“Face to face,” I replied.
“What?”
“I don’t want to share my dreams with you over the phone, Renie. They’re

personal, and I want to see your face when I tell you.”
“We could FaceTime,” she chimed in.
“Not the same. Dinner tomorrow?” I asked.
“Yes! I’ll throw something together.”
“No, I’ll swing by and pick you up. I’ll be there by six. This is a fancy date,

As I lay there after I hung up I thought about us and the past few weeks
we’d shared. I thought of the love we made – crazy, passionate love. Sometimes
I stayed over; sometimes I came home to give her time to ponder what we
shared. We were rebuilding a relationship; making up for lost time. And I loved
learning ‘us’ again.

When Mitchell wasn’t with me, all I could think about was when he would
be. When I hung up from talking to him Wednesday night, I was thrilled,
thinking about our dinner date.

I wanted him to stay all the time, but I have to assess. That’s what I do. I
know that sometimes it’s not practical. I try to be spontaneous, and sometimes
I pull it off, but something serious requires assessment on my part. It’s not that
I’m a control freak, I just think too much. I have to be in control of
me
. But I
also suspect that Mitchell is steadying our pace, just as he’d done all those years
before.