And I Hate You So - Chapter 7

Even though her mind was a swimming pool, Mimi still had some sense to check the messages on the answering machine while she was away. She got up from the hard cushionless chair and walked over to the small black box, and pressed the white button. It responded instantly.

"BEEP! Hey, it's me, Kari. Well, I've got good news...the boss says that he's sorry. He pleads you to write for us again. So go do him a favour. Call me, okay? Bye.

"BEEP! It's Kari again. The boss says that if you can get your column in today, he'll run your piece in straight away, so it'll be available tomorrow. Are you home? Well, call me. Bye.

"BEEP! It's Kari. Where are you? You don't return calls, you turned off your mobile..." Mimi was no longer listening. The boss had wanted her to come back. That meant that she had got her job back, which made her decision even more difficult.

She turned to look at the five huge bookshelves that took up half of her apartment. If she were to move, then all of them would have to go. It would be ridiculous to bring them along with her to Canada. An outstretched hand brushed across the stems of a row books lovingly. The books were precious to her.

"It will be empty here. Where will you go?" As Mimi uttered the words, a wind swept passed, gently ruffling some pages of a few books, as if trying to reply to her question.

Kari's voice came back into focus. "...bye!

"BEEP! ...Hi...it's Matt." His voice caught her attention, and as if he was standing right there, her whole body swerved around to face the tiny speaker where his voice was emitted to face him. "I often talk in front of a microphone...this is my first time solo on the phone. I'm actually kind of nervous..." he chuckled to himself, his voice made an achievement of making her smile along with him.

"Somehow, we've been fighting since day one. Like we were enemies in our past lives...I want to talk to you about yesterday's lunch. I didn't really know it would happen. I'm a bad, nasty guy, but not as evil and powerful as that." He paused, allowing her to take this time to walk over to her bed and flop down on it, the pink sheets rising up as the weight of her body made contact with the bed.

"You may not believe this...I was trying to be your friend. I've argued with you, read your essays and columns. I feel like I've known you for a long time. But we've never talked calmly. I won't waste any more of your tape...When you have time...call me." A series of numbers came through. "...Also, I've subscribed to that paper. I hope to see your column every day. Bye."

The answering machine beeped for the last time, then the whole room became silent.

Matt swerved his eyes to the red light, making sure that he was on air, before nodding slightly to his guest, mentioning to her that they have started. "Remember Mimi Tachikawa? My guest last month who stormed out and lost all dignity? Unpredictably, she's back at her own will. It's such a surprise you wanted to come. I thought you wouldn't have the time." Matt lifted his eyes from the grey microphone to look at her speak into her own microphone, her head bending slightly down, looking hunched and frail, as if there was a strong load pushing her down.

"Don't worry. I have plenty of time. My Cycles have stopped - I mean my columns." She had tried to make a joke, but her voice came out sad.

"How did that happen? Now I can't bear to attack you."

This time, her eyes lifted as well, to meet his. "Go ahead. It's your last chance. I'm getting married."

His handsome face shifted ever so slightly. He tried to make his face expressionless, but even he could not maintain that mask. It was utterly stupid - it did not make sense. Why did he feel as if his heart was being squeezed? Why did he even care?

The silence stretched, and Matt struggled to get his voice back. "What? Really?" he choked out.

"Yes, I'm going to get married." she repeated, the word making his heart stop again.

"Congratulations." His voice was mechanical.

"Thank you." She paused. "I want to come to thank you - may I say a few words?" Not trusting his voice, he nodded, even though he knew that the listeners wouldn't be able to see.

"Well," she explained, "months ago I was in a Junk Shop. I found a record I had given to my first love. The first gift I had ever given to a man. If it were you, something to important in a junk shop, what would you do? Someone else got it before me. A DJ bought it. But he wouldn't let me have it, and said rude things on air."

Matt cut in. "I still think it's for your own good."

She nodded. "Yes...now I agree. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have called my boyfriend, even if it was to yell abuse, and if not for that, I would not have reunited with my first love."

"You're marrying him?"

"Yes. So...I want to thank you."

"You forgave him for selling your gift?"

"...I accepted his explanation."

"So you're forgiving."

"...I believe in destiny."

Matt leaned back on his chair. "Yes, women tend to believe that. 'All lovers' reunions are beyond words'. I think you wrote that in your column once. I think it was called 'Old Loves'. About an umbrella right?" He didn't just presume, he memorized. He had read it over so many times that he knew the whole piece off by heart. "Anyway, I congratulate you, Mimi. Well...let's first go to commercials."

A square yellow button was pushed, and the machine automatically rolled the various advertisements.

Mimi took off the earphones and got up to gather her things. She was leaving tonight, and some of her luggage was outside, guarded by Kathleen, who graciously volunteered to look after them while she went inside.

The door silently opened and she forwarded out into the silent corridor. Until a voice pierced this silence. "Mimi!" she turned around. It was Matt, and he was holding something flat and square. It was her record. He walked over and hands the record to her, but she shook her head. "I'm immigrating. Flying tonight. Keep it as a memento." A smile and a wave were the last things he received before seeing her slim body walk out of his life...forever.
A taxi was waiting for Mimi on the other side of the road, facing the direction to the airport. A side window was rolled eagerly down and a face popped out. "Hey, Meems!" It was James. He opened the door and walked towards her, and grabbing the first luggage, he walked back with it, tossing it in the trunk. Mimi grabbed her last two items: A large luggage bag, and a white umbrella. She looked at it for a few seconds, before lifting her arm to throw it in the nearby bin. She didn't need it anymore. Her real love was there in person.

The last luggage was placed in the trunk along with the others, and she climbed in the back seat with James.

"Hey, James?"

"Yes, sugar?"

"Remember how we broke up?"

He considers for a while, his head tilted in thought. "No, I don't. Was it because of a fight?" he guessed.

She shook her head. "No, because we stopped fighting, and quietly went to movies, quietly went to dinner, then quietly stopped calling each other." She recounted perfectly.

"You like to argue?" he asked, slipping an arm around her. "That's easy. When we get to Canada, we'll fight about everything, okay?"

Smiling, she turned to face him. "It's going to be hard on you."

"I don't mind."

They both stopped talking, and as if they had rehearsed, the two looked out on their side of the window.

The silence became unbearable. The driver flicked a switch, and the radio came on. It was tuned to Starlight Music.

"A friend of mine is immigrating tonight." His smooth voice made her freeze. It wasn't the taunting one she was used to...but a caring one. "I wonder if she's on the plane yet. Anyway, even if she is, I'm giving her this song."

I wish you bluebirds in the spring.
To give your heart a sing
And then a kiss, But more than this,
I wish you love.
And in July, a lemonade
To cool you in some leafy glade.
I wish you health, but more than wealth, I wish you love.
My breaking heart and I agree,
That you and I could never be.
So with my best, my very best,
I set you free.

The song continued on. It was dedicated to her, Mimi realised. The words dawned on her. Did he really love her? She looked at James, who was still concentrating on the passing buildings and lights. Was she in love with him, the man who was staring out the window? The one who claimed to love her, even though he could not even remember how they seperated? The person who gave away his Gift of Love? Or...
It was past eleven already. The rest of the staff had left for home, but he remained in his closed studio, and played the song over and over again to himself. The haunting music and reminiscent lyrics seemed to reflect his mood perfectly. Regret.

I wish you shelter from the storm.
A cozy fire to keep you warm.
But most of all, when snowflakes fall,
I wish you love.

The song ended for the eighteenth time. Matt closed his eyes, trying to stop the pain deep within him.

Only today did he realised that he loved her. He had felt an attraction from the first time he met her in the bar, but he didn't know that it was love. And now, he had lost her.

He turned to see the record. The one that brought them together, and split them apart. "It's all your fault," he said, not knowing whether he meant the record or himself. Even so, he held it gently, before closing all the lights in the room and walked out to the corridor. He really should be going home, but he was taking the record with him. With his head down, Matt walked out staring at the ground, deep in thought. Only when he was about to trip on a shoe did he look up.
An angel was standing there. Her long white overcoat made her shine. Her smiling eyes shone into his. The first words came out as a spiteful question, "Why must you always do this to me? Why?"

Instead of answering, he smiled, then laughed. A joyful, relieved laugh. She had come back - to him.

Before long, both of them were laughing, for no particular reason at all. Then he drew Mimi into a hug, a long and tight one, before kissing her soft lips, which curved up in a smile against his and responded graciously.

They were all alone, rejoicing at the newfound love, except for three items: two luggage bags, and a long, white umbrella.

The End.

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