Things I Want to Say (14 page)

When we pulled into Grand Junction, Colorado, that evening, she said, “I can’t face sitting around a hotel room one more evening. Let’s go out somewhere.”

“What about Cocoa?” I looked at the pup, who had proved to be a good traveler. She’d spent the day alternately napping on the bench seat between us and sitting up gazing intently out the windshield.

“We’ll put her in the bathroom with a blanket and a
bowl of food and she’ll be fine. She’ll probably go right to sleep.”

Which is what I felt like doing after the rough night I’d had previously. But I wanted to help Alice the way she’d helped me. If going out would cheer her up, then I was all for it.

We set out on foot from the motel, down what looked to be the main drag of the town. “Where are we going?” I asked as we crossed the street.

“We’re out West, right?”

“Right.”

“Then let’s find some cowboys.” She nodded toward a neon sign a half block away. Next to a well-lit, oversize cowboy boot were the words
The Silver Spur.

Despite the bright lights outside, The Silver Spur was a dim paneled room with a mirror-backed bar along one wall and pool tables at the rear. Country music from the jukebox competed with the laughter from the pool players. Everyone I saw was dressed alike, regardless of their sex—colorful shirts, jeans, boots and cowboy hats.

I felt as out of place as a dandelion in a wedding bouquet. As we walked in, at least a dozen Stetson-covered heads swiveled in our direction. I watched, amazed, as Alice turned up the wattage on her smile, exaggerated the sway of her hips and developed a drawl I’d never heard before. “Howdy, fellas,” she said. “Anybody care to buy a couple of new gals in town a drink?”

The shuffle of booted feet on the hardwood floor was so loud I shrank back, half-afraid they were all going to run over us on their way out the door. I don’t know why I was worried, though. Within seconds we were seated at a large round table, with a pitcher of beer and a quartet of admirers. None of them were movie-star handsome, but they made up for any physical shortcomings with an avid appreciation that
was enough to make me more light-headed than a whole pitcher of beer.

I couldn’t get over the transformation in Alice. The woman who had sat silently in the truck all day was now positively effervescent. She laughed and flirted, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed in a way that made her seem ten years younger.

The four men ranged in age from late twenties to closing in on fifty. They had the weathered skin and calloused hands of men who spend a lot of time outdoors, though for all I knew they coached football or ran landscaping businesses rather than working on ranches. Not that that mattered to me. They were clean and nice-looking and decidedly masculine.

One in particular, a rangy, dark-haired man named Tom, paid particular attention to Alice. He had a wide smile and a hint of gray at his temples and a charming manner that made him easy to be around. Alice turned toward him and kept her eyes locked to his, reaching out every so often to touch his arm or his hand.

After a while, two others gave up and drifted away, while the fourth man turned his attention to me. His name was Gary, and he was the oldest of the group, with kind blue eyes and a large white hat I suspected covered a balding head. He talked about his job as a county road supervisor and asked me about the floral business. From there we moved on to the weather and baseball. The conversation flowed smoothly, but it was clear neither one of us was strongly attracted to the other. I got the sense Gary was playing wingman—keeping me occupied while Alice and Tom got to know each other better.

And they were definitely getting to know each other. By nine o’clock they’d progressed from occasional hand touches to clinging to each other on the bar’s tiny dance floor. When the song ended, they exchanged a long, passionate kiss that had me looking away in embarrassment.

When they returned to the table, I stood. “It’s getting late. I think I’d better call it a night,” I said.

“So soon?” Gary said, without much enthusiasm.

I smiled at him. “Thanks for the drinks. It’s been great talking to you.”

“You don’t have to run off now,” Tom said. He was holding Alice’s hand as if to keep her from fleeing, as well.

“I need to use the little girl’s room,” Alice announced. She slipped out of Tom’s grasp and grabbed my arm. “You come with me.”

When we were alone behind the doors of the ladies’ room, Alice released me. “Will you be okay walking back to the motel by yourself?” she asked.

“I guess so.” I frowned at her. “What are you going to do?”

She studied her reflection in the mirror, then pulled out a lipstick and began carefully applying it. “Tom and I are going to get a room, so you can have ours to yourself tonight.”

I stared at her. “You can’t be serious. I mean…you just met the man. You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know I think he’s sexy, and he makes me feel sexy.” She glanced at me. “I told him about the mastectomy. He says he doesn’t care.”

I think I was as shocked that she’d told a stranger about her cancer as I was that she’d have sex with a man she barely knew. “Are you sure?” I asked.

She nodded and fluffed her hair with her fingers. “Gary really likes you, you know. He probably wouldn’t say no if you invited him back to our room.”

“I couldn’t do that!” The idea made me feel shaky.

“Why not?” She turned to face me, hands on her hips. “It’s just sex. It doesn’t always have to mean something.”

“Maybe to me it does.”

The look she gave me made me feel small. “Maybe that’s
why you’re alone. I don’t feel like being alone tonight.” She pushed past me out of the ladies’ room.

I slumped against the sink, fighting a sense of…I don’t know…betrayal? It wasn’t as if Alice owed me anything. She was a grown woman, free to do whatever she wanted. She wasn’t even kicking me out of our room.

Was I making too big a thing of this? After all, this was the twenty-first century. Women could be as free with their sexuality as men. If I asked Gary back to my room, would that make me a more fulfilled, liberated woman?

I shook my head. No. I wasn’t like Alice. I’d spent so many years longing for real intimacy with a man, unable to break out of my shell enough to find it. Now that that protective shield I’d built was cracking, I wasn’t willing to settle for less than my dreams of real love.

Maybe that made me foolish; I didn’t care.

I washed my hands, brushed my hair, then squared my shoulders and left the ladies’ room.

I was surprised to find Gary waiting outside the door. “Can I walk you back to your motel?” he asked.

“Oh. I…well, I’m really pretty tired,” I stammered.

“I know. It’s okay. But you shouldn’t walk by yourself this time of night.”

His concern touched me. “Thanks. I…I’d appreciate that.”

We didn’t say anything on the walk back. True to his word, he left me at the door to my room with a tip of his hat. I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d met under different circumstances if things would have ended differently.

Inside the room, Cocoa greeted me with gratifying enthusiasm. She ran in circles around the room, leaping on the beds and skidding to a halt in front of me, her entire body wagging. I dropped to the carpet and rubbed her belly. After a moment, she grew still and fell into a half doze. I smiled, a contentment I recognized as love filling me.

Love for a furry puppy. Not much by some standards, but I considered it a good start.

I thought about Alice and what she might be doing right now. What
I
could be doing if I’d invited Gary in. That led to thoughts of Martin. I checked the clock. It was after ten in Kansas. Late, but I hoped not too late.

He answered on the fourth ring. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” I said.

“No, I was watching the news.” The voices behind him silenced. He must have shut off the TV. “Is everything okay there?” he asked.

“Fine. Why do you ask?”

“You sound a little sad.”

I was amazed he’d picked up on that. “Yeah, well…” I combed my fingers through Cocoa’s hair. “I’m a little down, I guess.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” I wasn’t ready yet to tell Martin about my father or my screwed-up childhood. I didn’t trust him to see that side of me just yet; I settled for a simpler truth. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“I’m happy to oblige. Where are you?”

“Grand Junction, Colorado. I’m at the hotel. With a dog Alice and I picked up on the side of the road.”

“That’s kind of you. Where’s Alice?”

“We went to a bar and she picked up some cowboy and went home with him. Or somewhere.”

“Ah.”

“What does that mean? Ah?”

“Are you ticked off that she abandoned you or jealous that she’s with someone and you’re not?”

The directness of the question caught me off guard. “I’m not jealous,” I said. “I’m not interested in sex with a stranger.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he said. “I never thought you
were the kind of girl who would give her affections easily. And I mean that as a compliment.”

“Sometimes I wish I did find it easier to be comfortable with people,” I confessed.

“You’re comfortable with me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” As comfortable as I was with anyone, but there was still so much of me holding back. “Tell me what you did today,” I said. “What arrangements you put together.” Talking about flowers was safe and familiar, not too personal.

“A dozen pink roses for a new mom and a potted fern for a man who fell off a roof and broke his leg.”

“Did you get the white roses you ordered for the wedding this weekend?” I asked.

“Yes. Thanks for giving me that source. The bride thinks I’m a miracle worker now.”

He was working minor miracles with me, making me feel so much better about life and myself. “You’ll have to send me pictures of some of your arrangements. I bet they’re beautiful.”

“I’ll do that. When do you think you’ll be in California?”

“I don’t know. A few days. I’ll probably stay with Alice a little while to help her get settled. I’m worried about her.”

“What do you mean?”

“She seems…depressed. Tired. Not well.”

“Traveling can be tiring, and she’s probably anxious to get to California and her new home.”

“I suppose.” I felt there was something more going on, something related to her first husband and the forgiveness she’d said she was seeking. But I couldn’t tell Martin that without betraying Alice’s confidence. “I’d better let you go. It’s late.”

“You’ll feel better when you’re home again, too,” he said.

“I hope so.” But I was less sure. After the freedom of
the open road, I wondered if my little condo wouldn’t feel stifling—if my whole life wouldn’t feel too confining now that I’d stretched the boundaries of my world, met new people and tried new things.

I woke early the next morning to the rattle of Alice’s key in the lock. I rolled over and stared at her through bleary eyes. “You okay?” I mumbled.

“Of course I’m okay. I’m great. Go back to sleep.”

So I did, only to open my eyes an hour later, wide-awake. Alice was a lump in the other bed, the faint rise and fall of the covers assuring me she was alive. I dressed quietly and took Cocoa out for her morning walk.

As I passed the rows of pickup trucks and cars nudged up to the curb in front of the rooms, I wondered if one of them belonged to Tom. Or maybe he’d already left. Maybe that was why Alice had returned to our room so early.

When I got back to the room, Alice was in the shower. I fed Cocoa, then began to pack.

Alice emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, another coiled, turbanlike, around her hair. “I’ll be ready in just a minute,” she said.

“No hurry.” I had a million questions I wanted to ask her, but felt I didn’t really have a right to the answers. So I pressed my lips tightly together and hoped she’d volunteer some details about her evening with Tom. Something to help me understand how she’d been able to be so intimate with a man who was a stranger. Was it experience or sophistica
tion or some other quality I lacked that had made last night possible for her?

Instead, I made small talk, something I don’t think I’m particularly good at. “Why is it after only a single night in a hotel room, I end up with my stuff scattered all over?” I asked as I collected a pair of socks from a chair.

“Maybe you’re marking your territory.” Alice tossed aside the towel and began to dress, her back to me.

“You mean like a dog?” I shook my head. “Why would I do that?”

“Not like a dog. More like, I don’t know—maybe those explorers who planted a flag and declared this land belonged to their king. You’re staking a claim.” She turned and watched me stuff a pair of sweatpants into my suitcase.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“What’s what?”

“That.” She came over and pointed into my suitcase. “It looks like a stuffed animal.”

My face burned and I quickly flipped the leg of the sweatpants across the top of the suitcase. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. It’s a lamb.” She reached over and plucked the somewhat dingy stuffed toy from the middle of the suitcase. She studied the lamb, then fixed her gaze on me. “I know there’s a story here.”

I snatched the lamb from her and clutched it to my chest, my fingers digging into the familiar knotted wool covering. “It’s a lamb I had as a baby,” I said.

“I can see that. But why do you have it now?”

I searched for some glib remark to explain why a grown woman would have an infant’s stuffed toy in her suitcase, but found none. I opened my hands and looked down at the lamb. One felt eye looked up at me. “My father gave it to me,” I said.

Alice was silent for a moment. When I raised my head I saw she was watching me, her eyes glittering with unshed
tears. “I don’t understand why you’d want to keep it,” she said softly.

I shrugged and carefully nestled the lamb among my clothes. “He gave it to me when I was a baby. I’ve always had it.” When I was growing up, I kept it hidden in our bedroom dresser so he wouldn’t find it and destroy it, the way he had destroyed so much that meant anything to me. “I guess…I guess I keep it to remind me that he did care about me. Once upon a time.” My own childhood fairy tale. The one without the happy ending.

Alice put her arm around me and neither of us said anything for a long time. Then she returned to the bathroom to put on her makeup. I closed the suitcase and zipped it, shutting the door once more on memories of my father and my own peculiar way of holding on to him.

We were loading the cab of the truck to leave when Tom came out of the motel office and crossed in front of us on the way to his truck. He never even looked up, though Alice stared through the windshield at him, a hopeful expression on her face. All my misgivings about everything that had happened the night before came rushing back, but I could think of nothing to say and Alice volunteered nothing.

The silence between us grew more strained with each passing mile. Alice was driving, and I stared out the window, searching for words to break the ice, my stomach a twisted lump in my middle.

Finally she slammed her hand against the steering wheel and said, “There’s nothing wrong with taking pleasure where you find it.”

I stared at her, stunned and relieved by her outburst. “I never said there was.”

“But you were thinking it. You’d never pick up a man in a bar and take him back to a hotel, would you?”

“No. But then I don’t have the kind of confidence you do. I haven’t had a lot of experience with men.”

“Ha! You think I spent the night with Tom because I’m confident?”

I frowned. “Didn’t you?”

She shook her head, then stared out the windshield for a long moment, biting her lip. She blew out a breath and straightened her arms, pressing back against the seat. “Have you dated much?” she asked.

“Not much.” I shifted. I could count on one hand the number of actual dates I’d had in my life. I told myself it was because no one wanted to date a fat girl, but then again, I’d never given anyone a chance, my attitude as much as my bulk keeping other people at a distance. I sighed. “Hardly at all, actually.”

“Well, I dated a lot. After Travis left I told myself I didn’t need him, that there were plenty of men out there who were better-looking or had more money, and who would really appreciate me.” She glanced at me. “But I think what I was really trying to do was prove to myself that a man could still want me.”

“Of course they wanted you,” I said. “You’re pretty and fun to be with. You were always popular in school.”

“Yeah, well, the older you get, the less that counts for anything. I didn’t want to get married again, but I didn’t want to be alone, either, so I always had a boyfriend.” She shrugged. “It was part of my life, like having a job and a car and a good hairdresser. A man was another accessory.”

“It sounds…a little impersonal.” Depressing even.

“I don’t mean it that way. I did care about every one of the men I dated.” She ran her hands along the steering wheel. “But I never wanted to depend on them, you know?”

I nodded. “People can be undependable.”

“Exactly. And my last boyfriend proved that point ten times over.”

The bitterness in her voice made my stomach tighten in sympathy. “What did he do?” I asked.

“When I was diagnosed with cancer, he was as shocked as I was, but he swore he’d stand by me.” Her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “But after the mastectomy, while I was still in the hospital, he told me he couldn’t handle it.” She took a ragged breath and swallowed. “He couldn’t handle having a lover who wasn’t a…a whole woman.”

Tears stung my eyes and I leaned toward her, but the still way she held herself warned me away. “That must have hurt a lot,” I said quietly.

“It did. But it made me mad, too. I said fuck him. I’ll show him. There are better men than him out there.”

Understanding opened a door in my brain. “Was Tom one of those better men?”

“I like to think so.” Her eyes met mine, a plea for understanding in them. “Sometimes I just need…I need that confirmation that I’m still a woman, even if I am a skinny one with no breasts.”

How much courage had it taken her to be with any man again after that kind of rejection? And here I sat, too afraid for too many years to so much as flirt with a man. “Oh, Alice…I never thought… I’m sorry.”

“Forget about it. I just wanted you to know there are a lot of reasons two people might decide to go to bed together—and some of them don’t have anything to do with sex.”

“I guess I’m really naive about these things.” I sighed, realizing once again just how sheltered I’d been. There was so much I didn’t know about, so much I wanted to know about, but I was torn between wanting to retreat to my safe cocoon—my condo and Frannie and my familiar job and acquaintances—and wanting to stay on the road forever, constantly experiencing new places and people. I couldn’t yet see my way to a middle ground.

Alice grinned at me. “I think two stunning, single babes like us deserve a break from the open road,” she said.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I hear St. George, Utah, has a terrific outlet mall. How about we take a little detour for some retail therapy?”

“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard in days.” I laughed. “I may not have much experience with men, but I am an expert shopper.”

Zion Factory Stores was a suburban paradise of designer closeouts, name-brand seconds and this year’s bargains that held the tantalizing promise of a “deal.” We left Cocoa at an adjacent motel and set out to make our contribution to the local economy.

“We should check out Bass and Factory Brand for shoes,” I said, studying the directory. “Tuesday Morning is a good place to look for household stuff and this time of year Ralph Lauren will have end-of-season mark-downs on women’s clothing.”

Alice stared at me as we set off across the central plaza toward the Ralph Lauren store. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were an expert at this.”

I shrugged and failed at an attempt to look modest. “When I was fat, I was determined not to look frumpy. I learned which designers had clothes in my size and bought the best pieces I could afford. And of course, my choice in shoes and purses wasn’t limited, so I always had fabulous accessories.”

“When you lost all that weight, you must have been like a kid in a candy store.”

I nodded. “I had to limit myself at first, I was so afraid I might replace one obsession with another.” I pulled open the door to Ralph Lauren and we stepped inside. I paused to take a deep breath. The wonderful smell of new cotton and polyester and leather filled my senses. There’s no other aroma quite like it.

“You look great,” Alice said. “Maybe you could help me pick out some things that would flatter me. I’ve been wearing the same styles for so long I’m not even sure what would look good.”

“I can definitely help you there. Come on.” I took her arm and led her toward a rack of dresses. “Let’s pick out some things to try on.”

For the next four hours we literally “shopped till we dropped.” We tried on shoes, dresses, pants, blouses and jackets. We tied scarves and modeled purses. We paraded in evening gowns and draped ourselves in costume jewelry. And we laughed and laughed.

“I wish I had you to shop with all the time,” I said as we sank into chairs in the food court, our purchases piled around us. “It’s never this much fun by myself.”

“Doesn’t Frannie go with you?” Alice shoved a tall paper cup of diet soda toward me and took a long sip from her own drink.

“Frannie has no interest in clothes,” I said. “She wears a black beautician’s smock over black slacks and a black sweater at work and when she gets home in the evenings, she changes into sweats. I’ve tried to get her to let me dress her up, but she refuses. She thinks black is slimming and chic. I think it makes her look like she’s in mourning all the time.”

“Doesn’t she ever go out?” Alice asked. “With friends or on a date?”

“No.” I shook my head. “She’s even more of a recluse than I was.” It hurt to think of Frannie, alone and hiding from the world. I’d come a long way toward healing the hurt in my own heart. If only I could find a way to heal hers, as well.

“When I’m settled in Ojai, you’ll have to come see me,” Alice said. “I won’t let you be a recluse anymore.”

“It’s a deal.” I looked at the shopping bags scattered at my feet. “What are we going to do with all our fabulous new clothes?”

“I have an idea.” She pulled out a sequined minidress that had been a steal on the clearance rack and held it in front of her. “Don’t you think this would look great in Las Vegas?”

“Las Vegas? Are you serious?”

“Why not? We’re free, single and over twenty-one. Let’s live it up.”

The idea made my heart race. I had a sudden image of myself in a fabulous gown, winning at roulette, surrounded by handsome men in tuxedos, a glass of champagne in my hand. Why
not
live it up? “Let’s do it!”

She raised her cup of soda in a toast and I joined her. “To Las Vegas,” I said.

“To Vegas,” she echoed, then added, “Sin city, here we come!”

The morning after our shopping expedition, I woke up excited about our trip. Alice and I needed a fun break from the road and Vegas seemed perfect.

But when I returned from taking Cocoa for her morning walk, I was surprised to find Alice still in bed. “Get up, sleepyhead,” I said. “Vegas is waiting.” I pulled open the drapes, flooding the room with harsh sunlight.

Alice moaned and rolled over, her hand covering her eyes. “I can’t go today,” she mumbled into the sheets.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I hurried to the bedside. Cocoa jumped up beside Alice and whined.

“I’m sick,” Alice moaned.

“What kind of sick? Is it the flu? Do you need to see a doctor?” I fluttered my hands, feeling helpless. I wasn’t good at dealing with sick people. Frannie and I were almost never ill.

“I think I just ate something that didn’t agree with me.” She rolled onto her back again and looked up at me. Her skin was ashy, almost translucent, the blue veins visible
beneath the surface. Her eyes were sunken, dark circles beneath them.

I bit my lip, unsure whether to fuss or leave her alone. “Are you in pain?” I asked. “Should we call a doctor?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I just need to rest. Get my strength back.” She closed her eyes again. “I just need to rest,” she said again. “I’ll be fine, really.”

I looked at her a long moment, undecided. “If you needed to see a doctor, you’d tell me, right?” I asked.

“I’d tell you.” She pulled up the covers. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow, I’m sure. Go do something fun.”

Reluctant to leave her, yet even more reluctant to spend the day in a darkened hotel room, waiting for Alice to throw up or pass out or worse, I collected my purse and Cocoa’s leash. “You have my cell number if you need me,” I said.

She made a noise I took for consent. I snapped the leash to Cocoa’s collar and we fled the room.