CHAPTER 8
Present Day
“What do you need a green dress for?” Jen asked while we were out shopping the next day. I rifled through the green dress section at the second-hand store, looking for the greenest dress there ever was. I’d already told her that I was going out with Spencer, but I hadn’t yet shared with her my plan.
“Spencer insists I wear a red dress,” I said.
She chuckled, a deep sinister sound. “Oh, you’re good. I think I underestimated you.”
I liked Jen. She got me in pretty much every way.
She handed me a hundred-dollar bill. “For the cause.”
It gave me more satisfaction than I liked to admit that I was spending Spencer’s money to buy a dress that would defy what he wanted.
“I never realized shopping could be this satisfactory,” I said.
“I’m rather enjoying it as well.” Jen grabbed a lime green dress and held it up for me. “What about this one?”
“I’m thinking a darker green. More green. Greenest.”
“As green as can be. Got it.” She continued to peruse the dresses. “Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled out a small brown glass bottle with a white label on it from her purse, then whispered, “Ipecac. A half a teaspoon and he’ll be throwing up like no tomorrow.” She winked at me.
The thought of poisoning him did make me feel a little bit guilty. And I wasn’t actually going to do it. I mean, I hadn’t stooped that low. But I still took the bottle. You know, just in case.
“We’ll see if I need it,” I said. “He told me he’d give me back the necklace if I dropped all charges.”
“He did?” she said.
I nodded.
“Do you believe him?” she asked.
“I guess I’ll see on Saturday.” When I moved the next dress aside, I found a Kelly green, silk, fitted knee-length dress that was exactly what I was looking for. It had a low back and a scoop neck, which would reveal my cleavage perfectly. It would remind him of what he would never have.
“Maybe something more modest?” Jen said.
I shot her a scheming glance.
“Oh… you want to torture him,” she said. “You’re stepping into dangerous territory.”
“Should I not?” I asked.
She thought for a moment. “Try it on. Then I’ll tell you.”
Three minutes later I was wearing the green dress in one of the filthy, cramped dressing rooms. If there ever was a perfect fit, this was it. It was as if God, or some supernatural force had created this dress just for me for this specific occasion. It was as opposite of red as any color could be. I was as giddy as a girl on Christmas Day.
The price tag was a nice sixty dollars, something even I could afford on my college budget, especially since Spencer was technically paying for it.
I stepped out of the dressing room and Jen stood up.
“My, God that looks gorgeous on you,” she said, her pale blue eyes alight.
The salesclerk, a young, petite but energetic brunette, approached me and her brown eyes widened.
“That dress was made for you, girl.” She smiled at me, and I could tell by her sincere expression that her compliment wasn’t just a cheap sales tactic.
I studied myself in the mirror, wondering if this was as perfect as I imagined it to be. Because of all the stress between three jobs, I had dropped some weight recently and thought that it might have made me look more girly, less womanly. Fortunately, I could see that my weight loss hadn’t really affected my breast size or the curviness my ass. Rather the weight loss seemed to accentuate my curves, giving me an even more pronounced hourglass figure with a tiny waist, a round booty, and breasts that stood perky and crowned the outfit.
I couldn’t help but smile at myself in the mirror and give myself a mental high-five for this plan of mine.
“He’s not going to be able to think straight when he sees you in that dress,” Jen said. “And he’ll probably forget he ever even told you to wear red.”
I doubted he’d forget, but it felt good to stand my ground and not let him dictate my entire life.
“Is this for a special date?” the salesclerk asked.
“You could say that,” I muttered.
“You have to get it,” the salesclerk said.
Jen looked at the price tag. “I think it’s a little too expensive,” she said. “Ellie is in college and she’s on a tight budget.”
I was about to protest and remind her that Spencer was paying for it, but the sales clerk chimed in before I managed to speak.
“How about twenty percent off?” the salesclerk said.
“Sure,” I said at the exact same time Jen said, “Thirty percent.”
The salesclerk looked confused for a moment, her eyes darting between Jen and me.
“How about twenty-five percent,” I finally said.
“Sold!” the salesclerk said as she clapped her hands enthusiastically.
Ten minutes later, Jen and I were walking out of the store, me with a great big satisfied grin on my face, carrying a box with my so-not-red dress in it, the Ipecac bottle in my bag.
* * *
I woke to the sound of lawn mowers outside and within a millisecond I remembered what day it was. All I wanted was to pull the covers over my head and forget that it was the one-year anniversary of my dad’s death. Somehow, I still hadn’t been able to fully accept that he was gone forever. And it seemed if I acknowledged this day, I’d have to accept it, and then I knew my heart would shatter into a million pieces and I’d be unable to continue on as a capable adult.
To make matters worse, I needed to look for a job today, something I really didn’t want to do. None of the applications I’d sent out had produced any results and if I didn’t find a job soon, I’d have to revert to student loans.
But even as bad as all that was, the worst part was that today of all days I had a date with Mr. Dark Knight. Even though I was very much looking forward to seeing the scowl on his sexy face when he realized I was wearing the opposite of red, it just didn’t excite me to have to sit through an evening trying to pretend the other-worldly attraction I felt for him wasn’t there. The energy I needed to resist him was unreasonable to say the least, and it was energy I could use to look for a job or find a way to grieve my dad.
Unable to sleep any longer, I dragged myself into the kitchen and brewed myself a cup of coffee. Halfway through my caffeine-fix, there was a knock at the door. I glanced at the clock above the stovetop. 7:13. Who could be here at this early hour?
I ran to my bedroom and threw my navy robe on, and as I was pulling my hair back into a high ponytail, I went to open the front door. There stood my mom, a little thinner than I remembered her being the last time I saw her, and also a little prettier, too, I thought. She wore a simple, black, knee-length, long-sleeved dress.
“Mom!” I threw my arms around her and we just stood and held each other for several moments. And suddenly, with her being here, and realizing how much I needed her here today, I broke down and sobbed.
“Mom!” I heard Rose’s feet approach behind me and shortly after, her arms enveloped Mom and me both. We stood and sobbed, all of us, a silent knowing of the loss we had all suffered.
“Well, are you going to invite me in?” Mom finally said.
We dried our tears and settled in the kitchen, me brewing two more cups of coffee.
“I’m sure you know why I’m here,” Mom said.
It’d been almost a year since I’d seen her, and even though we had talked on the phone, it wasn’t the same. Having her around brought a sense of stability and peace to me that no one else could. I had missed that. And I didn’t realize how much until she showed up at my door.
“Yes,” Rose said.
“Yes,” I said.
“I thought we could first have breakfast as a family this morning and then we could head on over to visit Dad’s grave,” Mom said.
“I wrote him a card,” Rose said.
Mom looked at her and nodded. I’m not sure Mom realized that Rose hadn’t visited Dad’s grave once since his funeral. She rarely talked about Dad, and whenever I’d bring him up, she’d either get quiet and completely shut down, or she’d excuse herself and leave the room. It was lonely grieving alone and feeling like the mention of someone so important in my life shouldn’t be talked about.
Mom cupped Rose’s cheek and smiled at her softly. “I’m sure he’ll love that.”
After coffee, I got showered and dressed in black slacks and a black button up shirt. When we were just about to leave, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a young man standing in the hallway. He wore a khaki uniform and held a device in his right hand, a package in the other.
“Are you miss… Uh…” He glanced at the writing on the package. “Ellie Goldstein?”
“Yes.” I squinted.
“Please sign here.” He handed me the device and I signed. Package in hand, I closed the door, trying to remember if I had ordered anything. Nothing came to mind.
I went into the living room and opened the package. Inside was the most gorgeous red silky dress I’d ever seen, with a handwritten note.
Ellie. You said you didn’t have a formal red dress. I bought you one in your size. Can’t wait to see you wearing it tonight. I’ll pick you up at 3:00 p.m.
~Spencer
Oh. My. God. The man was impossible. Impossibly controlling. Needing everything his way. Well, little did he know I had my own plan. I smiled at my green dress plan, realizing it would be even more satisfactory wearing something so not red.
“Who’s that from?” Rose asked.
My mom lifted the dress out of the box. “This is a Valentino. From a secret admirer?” she said, the corners of her lips curling into a smile.
How was I supposed to explain all this to my mom and Rose? It wasn’t worth the effort.
“Just something I bought online. It was on sale,” I said. “Major discount.”
“When will you wear it?” she asked. “I mean you’re a student and…”
I took the dress from my mom and carried it and the box and note into my room.
“I’m sure I’ll find an event.” I didn’t want to have to explain this crazy, complicated, stupid Spencer situation to them and in the process have to admit he’d stolen my grandmother’s necklace. My mom would freak out if she knew I’d lost her mother’s wedding diamond. There was no need to get her involved just yet, especially since I was going to get the necklace back.
I headed back into the living room.
“Let’s not talk about the dress. I want to spend time with my family. And remember dad.” I wasn’t going to let Spencer weasel his way into our precious time or destroy this important day.
“No, you’re right,” my mom said. “Ready to go?”
* * *
After breakfast, we took my BMW to the church where Dad was buried and parked in the parking lot. The rain was pouring down, but fortunately, I was smart enough to pack three umbrellas before leaving my apartment. I handed one to my mom, then Rose.
“I’ll just wait in the car,” Rose said.
Mom and I exchanged glances.
“Sweetie… don’t you think…” Mom started.
“I said I’ll wait in the car!” Rose yelled. She squeezed her lips together and stared out the window. Her shoulders slumped and I could feel her vanish inward, shutting us out.
“Ok, sweetie. That’s fine,” Mom said. “Can I at least give Dad the card you wrote?”
Rose glanced at us, her eyes glazed with tears, then pulled the card out of her bag. She handed Mom the card and continued to stare out the window. I wanted to say something, wanted to understand, wanted to get her to open up, but I knew it wasn’t the right time.
“We won’t be long,” Mom said as she climbed out of the car. I latched my arm with hers and we walked toward the grave site arm in arm, the umbrellas protecting us from the rain. The gravel was crunching beneath our feet.
“Is everything ok with Rose?” Mom finally asked.
“She’s… she’s struggling. I don’t know if you know this, but she hasn’t visited Dad’s grave since the funeral, and she refuses to talk about him. Yesterday I checked her grades at school, and she has mostly Cs and Ds. And she’s rarely home anymore, mostly hanging out with her boyfriend, Wayne.”
My mom nodded slowly as the information sunk in. “I see.”
I stopped and turned toward my mom. “The other night, she came home drunk.”
My mom’s eyebrows gathered in the center and her lips squeezed to a line.
“I don’t … I don’t think I’m equipped to be her guardian right now,” I said. “I feel like I’m failing her.”
“I had a hunch something wasn’t right. She seems fine on the phone when I call her, but I just felt I needed to come up and check on her.” We started to walk again, slowly, passing rows of gravestones on the left and right.
“The hardest part is that she won’t talk to me about anything. She’s shut me out and I feel like I’m losing her,” I said.
“I think it’s time I intervened,” Mom said. “We’ll figure something out before I leave. Perhaps it’s best I have her come live with me in California.”
“She’s not going to like that,” I said.
We shared a knowing glance. Rose was sweet and kind but stubborn as nails and we both knew we would face a hard battle if we insisted she move.
We stopped at Dad’s grave and I placed the bouquet of white lilies I had brought. Mom placed Rose’s card, so it was leaning against the tombstone. I read the engraving we had all agreed on:
In loving memory of an amazing father and loving husband. His kindness, devotion, and love will be dearly missed.
“I always hoped I’d have a relationship like you and dad,” I said.
“It was a good relationship,” Mom said with a faint smile.
“It seemed perfect,” I said. “I remember Dad telling me once that you have to build a relationship on friendship, trust, and commitment. I suppose that’s why you two were so good together.”
“We did have a good relationship…” She glanced at me as if wondering if she should tell me what she was thinking. “But it was far from perfect.”
Oh? This was the first time I’d heard anything of the sort.
“We agreed to keep our differences and challenges private and not involve you children in any way,” she said. “But there were very difficult times.”
I’d never noticed them say a single unkind word to each other or even be upset at each other. Their relationship was admired by many and was even written about in the Seattle Medical Times as one of America’s ideal couples. Had I missed something?
“What did you disagree on?” I asked, not really certain I wanted to discuss this here… or anywhere.
“Oh, it’s… Maybe I’ll tell you someday.” She waved a dismissive hand. “This isn’t the time or the place.”
I agreed with that, but I couldn’t deny that I was feeling curious.
“I never thought I’d be a widow,” Mom said. “It wasn’t the plan, you know. And now I’m left with debts I don’t know if I can manage to pay and I don’t know that I’ll have enough for retirement.” She dried a tear from her eye with a white handkerchief.
I wrapped an arm around her. “I guess life didn’t turn out like we wanted… or planned.”
“That’s a very true observation,” Mom said. “And I’m sure Dad would agree as well.” She smiled at me, a soft gleam in her eyes. “You following in his footsteps to become a doctor and open your own practice… it brought him great pride. And it makes me feel happy to know you’ll be set for life, financially.”
A lump formed in my throat and I couldn’t help that tears brimmed my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.
“Oh, sweetie,” Mom said as she hugged me. “I miss him, too. But we’ll be ok. Just stay on course and finish school. Remember, he would want for us to be happy and make the most of our lives.” She pulled out of the hug and dried my tears with her handkerchief.
“You’re right,” I said.
“Now, let’s get back,” she said as she started to walk away.
I wanted to linger a while longer, wanted to take a moment to fully feel my pain, to honor this day, something I hadn’t yet allowed myself to do. I knew my mom wasn’t exactly the warm emotional type and could at times even be described as cold. Even so, I wondered why she couldn’t just take a few more moments to honor the man who had been her devoted husband for over twenty years.
“I’ll be right there,” I said to her as she walked away.
She turned around, nodded, and continued on.
I must have stood there for a good thirty minutes crying, pouring my heart out to my dad, telling him how much I missed him, how much I loved him. I held nothing back and just let the sobs wrack my body as I felt my pain fully for the first time since he was taken from us. I laid down beside his grave, cradling the tombstone and surrendered myself to my grief.
I don’t know how long I laid there, but after a while, something unexpected happened. I started to feel at peace. I still missed Dad, but somehow, I was finally able to accept that he was gone. The tears stopped and I sat up. It wasn’t until then that I realized it had stopped raining and sun rays beamed through the clouds.
“I miss you, Dad,” I said as I placed a hand on the tombstone. In my mind, I heard him reply with, “I miss you, too, Ellie, but now’s the time to go get your goddamn necklace back.”
I chuckled, because I knew that was exactly what he would have said had he been here. He always encouraged me to stand up for myself and fight for what I wanted, to not let others trample on me.
“Don’t let that boy push you around,” I imagined my dad saying. “Show him what you’re made of. Show him who’s boss.”
I stood up as I chuckled, feeling better than I had felt in a long time.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Who are you talking to?” I heard my mom’s voice behind me.
“I…er…” I said.
“You ready to go?” she asked, her voice impatient.
Again, I briefly wondered why she was in such a hurry. I mean, she was here to honor the one-year anniversary of her late husband’s death. She seemed just a little more callous than what I had expected, as if she found this whole situation annoying. I suppose everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time.
“I’m ready,” I said as I took her arm in mine and we started toward the car. I looked back at the gravestone and winked.
Now if I could just figure out how to survive my evening with Spencer and get my necklace back without having to prostitute myself or murder someone, that would be great.