I
just stared at him, uncomprehending. He confidently waited for my
response.
"What'd you say?"
"I asked if I could
take you out this Friday… is this okay?"
My breathing grew
uneven as I remembered Matt's death. He was my first love—only
love. We had been together for nine years before he died of leukemia
a while ago. After his passing, I swore to myself that never again
would 'falling in love' be on my to-do list. This means, no
guys—whatsoever.
"No. I can't… I'm sorry." I started
ringing up his stuff without looking away from it. I wouldn't let
him see me cry because I'd start feeling vulnerable which isn't
good… at all. Guys always took advantage of a girl's
vulnerability. It wasn't going to happen here. I yanked my hand out
of his.
"May I ask why?"
"No, you may not, sir." I
paused. "I'm done now. Do you have any money? You need to pay
now."
Adam looked flustered, but still kept his smile in tact.
"As a matter of fact, I do! Isn't that lovely?" He
laughed. "I always seem to lose it. Here it is!" Adam handed me
his cash, but closed his hand around mine. "If you're willing to
change your mind, give me a call."
I forced my hand away.
"Have a nice day, sir. Come see us again!" I didn't want to say
that last part, but it was the business policy. I suddenly detested
it.
As he walked out the door, he turned back slightly towards
me. "I might take you up on that."
The
next day continued on the same pattern as yesterday, except for the
fact that Adam was not there. You'd think he would, but he didn't
seem like the type of guy who would remember an average-looking girl
like me. What do I have to offer, anyway? My hair is stick-straight
and I'm paler than a ghost! The eyes God decided to 'grant' me
with didn't seem to like sticking to one color, either. That was
definitely NOT the type of girl a beautiful-looking actor would want.
No, he'd remember a woman who had platinum blonde hair, a dark tan,
fresh manicure and pedicure… that sort of thing. And that woman
wasn't Livia Jameson. I shook my head in utter dismay.
But,
why should I care? Didn't the promise to Matt mean anything to me
now? That was the reason why I turned Adam down, so why was breaking
it seem so appealing? The reason didn't come. My forehead creased
as I contemplated. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as my eyes
closed tight. The hollow part in my stomach ripped open.
"Livia…
Livia? Livia?!" Mark Phelps, the store manager, frantically tore
away from his office and ran to me. "What's wrong? Why are you
crying?"
Oh. I didn't know anyone could notice my emptiness,
but I guess so. I'd been trying so hard to hide it.
"Say
Something!"
"I—I…" I fought to find a logical response
that didn't leave him worrying about me.
"Yes?" He
prompted.
"I'm fine. I—I was just thinking of…"
"Matt," He finished.
Mark knew of my old boyfriend and
had helped me through life those first few months after he died.
Without him, I don't know where I'd be now… probably dead, I
supposed.
When
the apparent tears stopped flowing, Mark breathed in a deep sigh of
relief. His features softened as I looked into his deep blue eyes,
watching for any signs of discomfort… there were none. They were
only full of understanding. My heart fluttered when he squeezed my
left hand.
"Okay now?" He whispered soothingly, making the
whole room go quiet at the sound of his smooth voice.
I just
nodded, not taking my eyes off of him. Mark's hand gently stroked
my damp cheek, drying some of my tears. For the briefest instant, his
fingers traced my lips. I breathed in deeply, taking in his natural
scent. He didn't really need anything to help him smell better.
Everything about the gas station manager was natural… and
unbelievably effortless. I'm sure many people envied him for it.
"Good. Are you ready to get back to work now?"
"I—I…
I think so." I paused. "Thanks Mark. I appreciate it.'
He
shrugged.
"You're my friend and that's what friends do for
each other, right?" His mouth formed a smile.
"Right."
"Great, well… think you can make it through the rest of the
day?"
I laughed weakly.
"I think so."
When
I calmed down enough to start working again, a customer whom I didn't
recognize was impatiently tapping her Prada sandals. She was holding
a brown package that was about the size of a five foot, six inch
cylinder. I watched this woman through Mark's office window.
The
feeling of dread washed over me. My head was telling me to help this
lady, but my will was just the opposite. Something else inside my
soul was screaming not to come closer. The two messages blended
together and made my stomach ache with uncertainty.
Suddenly,
the woman's eyes fell on mine. Her brow furrowed in utter annoyance
and revulsion. It was like she'd never seen an average-looking girl
ever in her wealthy and fictitious life. The thought of that
disgusted me.
"Are you Livia Jameson?" She asked snidely,
narrowing her sapphire blue eyes.
I casually strolled over to
the woman standing in the middle of the store, trying to ignore her
unscrupulousness. After all, biting the hook would result in big
trouble.
"Do
you need anything, ma'am?"
The lady lifted her chin,
successfully accomplishing the pretentious look. It took everything
in my power to not roll my eyes and tell her that she's, in fact,
not making herself look any better by doing that.
"Someone
told me to hand-deliver this package to you," She shoved the heavy
entity into my arms and walked off without another word.
How
odd, I thought. Who, in her circle of 'friends' would think of
me? No, here's a better question: How would they even know me
enough to care this much? There was no answer. Just the soft purr of
the air vents and occasional pitter patter of footsteps coming and
going.
I set the substantial gift down on the pay desk. My
fingers traced the sophisticated designs on the shiny crimson
wrapping paper. I found the scissors that are kept in my purse and
carefully cut it, avoiding places that hadn't a hard surface
underneath. By the time I completed the task, my eyes were bulging
out of their sockets because the cylinder object was in fact, a HUGE
vase filled with chocolate and caramel candy hearts. A glossy card
was prominently displayed on top of the sugary sweets, making the
whole bestowal even more momentous.
