Don't Say a Word by Patty Stanley - HTML preview

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Things were moving pretty fast. So fast it took her breath away, or maybe it was the thought of Michael’s leg brushing against hers that took her breath away. Marianne had a very hard time trying to sleep that night. She was excited to think of going on a date. Her first date! She took a long bubble bath lounging in the luxurious bubbles for nearly an hour. She shaved her legs with great care—pleased and surprised at how much she loved the silky smooth feeling of legs that were freshly shaved. She took great pains with her makeup and hair even using Mavis’ curling iron to make a couple of curls around her face. She found several perfumes on the shelf over the bathroom sink and sprayed some on liberally, making sure to put some in her hair, behind her knees, and on her wrists. She had made a trip to the local thrift shop earlier in the day in the hopes that she could find something, anything that wouldn’t look like so terribly used. She found a pretty flowered skirt that she could wear with the blue blouse that she had worn to get out of prison and the new shoes that Mavis had brought her which made her very tall but she thought that Michael was much taller than she. She hoped that neither Rex nor Mavis would be home that evening. Mavis would be working and Rex usually went to the bar. She didn’t want to explain anything to them. Of course, Michael and she were childhood friends and it really shouldn’t need much explanation.

He’s good looking enough to pose for GQ she thought as she watched him walk up to the front door. The look of approval on his face made the three hours she had spent getting ready worth every minute. He smiled and her heart fluttered. She smiled back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how nervous she was. “You smell heavenly,” he said and Marianne hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“There’s a small carnival in town out by the shopping center on the bypass. Some of the rides look interesting and Jimbo said it is a lot of fun. Would you like to go?”

“Oh, it does sound like fun. Yes, thanks. I’d love to.”

The carnival was all lights and electricity. Marianne knew her heart was beating faster, and she felt the lights were shining brighter, the people felt warmer as they walked through the fairway. It seemed they were walking through the earthly star system to the soul of the world. She told him this and his short, quaint laugh filled her from top to bottom with the love she was ready to pour out for him.
“Yeah,” he said as his eyes strayed away from hers toward the heart of the night. Marianne could tell his thoughts were somewhere else, and she hoped that he was dreaming, like she was. Dreaming about the world and the future and this moment right now. She knew he was distracted by the dream they were living because his only responses were monosyllabic at best. But she would not hold that against him. Tonight was hers, and she was his, and he was the worlds.

They went to a booth where he told her he would win a “really big stuffed animal” for her.

Curious about her world and her reality, he was distracted enough to not win the grand prize, but headstrong enough to win 2nd, which allowed him the choice of a small stuffed dog or a colorful box of pencils. He asked which she wanted.

“The small puppy,” she said with gusto. “The box of pencils is a bad omen. Sharp ends, you know.” Again, she could see his curiosity bubbling, but he said nothing as he turned and started walking away.

“How about the Haunted House?” he whispered facing her, which had an extremely sensual effect that she was not expecting. So as they walked to the haunted house and heard the chainsaws running somewhere within. She turned to him and reached for his hand and felt their fingers intertwine and felt fireworks from nowhere and blood rushing to her head.

And then he broke off, saying that he didn't feel like “doing the haunted house thing anymore.” She understood. She didn't think she could have taken much more joy either. The overwhelming flood of emotion that had come with their hands touching was like a soliloquy of their souls.

They walked silently, pensively toward the true heart of the world, the center of the universe that spins with all the fury of an out of control solar system: the Ferris wheel. Its lights and motion lit and moved the entire world, a disc of unthinkable wonder, where, when your seat stops at the very top to allow new people on, the universe of possibilities opens up to you...So it was as it creaked to a halt with them perched closer to the stars than anyone else on earth. They were alone, miles from Aniston, feet no longer touching Terra Firma, he leaned over and kissed her. She could never dream of a more romantic first kiss; on the very top of a Ferris wheel under a beautiful late-summer sky! In the past she yearned for just a kiss, but now she was so glad she had never kissed anyone before Michael.

His hand moved to her shoulders and drew her closer and she told him she'd never felt the fabric of another person's soul until this moment.

As her comment settled in, he leaned back to his side of the seat, a look of shock sealed on his face. Obviously, he had seen the beauty of her statement and didn't expect something so perfectly right to come from her at that exact moment. But the world is full of surprises.

Afterward they paused on her front porch and poised for the good night kiss, but being the gentleman he was, he declined. He said “see you later”, and she watched him as he vanished into the darkness, but she was not worried because on his lips hung the promise of later, and despite the suffocating darkness, that promise would live forever on her lips.

She entered the house hugging the small stuffed dog as if hugging it she was hugging the evening close. The reverie was shattered soon enough.

“Where did you go?” Rex roared. “You let that bum take you somewhere without telling anyone! Who was that and where’d you go?” He thundered, his face turning red.

“Rex, calm down. It was Michael.  You remember Michael Yates, don’t you?” She cleared her throat but was shaken by the confrontation. “Bill said I could go out but that to be careful not to date anyone with a record. Well, Michael doesn’t have a record of any kind.”

“You used to love me,” he snarled.  “You used to have a thing for me. I suppose you don’t choose to remember that? You liked to get into bed with me when your mom went to work early on Saturday morning. You tried to get between me and her when I had a hard on. Now you’re hot for this Michael, and I don’t count any more. You want to show that you don’t need me.”

Reality shattered the pink cloud she had floated in on. It was true, all true, and it was better that Michael was dead for her. Far better that he’d never want to look at her again, better that he’d never, ever want to remember her than to drag him into her nightmarish world. She would tell him she could never see him again. Tomorrow…the first thing tomorrow.