I'm sitting at the end of my bed. I'm wearing the dress I spent weeks picking out. It's wine colored, strapless, flares at the waist. I thought it brought out the subtle gold flecks in my eyes; Woody told me that they were there. He said that one night when I was working as a barmaid. Someone needed to take care of the Pogue; it was my job. Woody would come by almost every night for a beer; it was a ritual. It was one of the few constant things in my life.
It's eight o'clock. The cocktail hour started an hour ago; the dinner started just minutes ago. Woody said that he would pick me up at half passed six. I was waiting by the door. I was waiting for over a half hour already. I had my sexy stilettos on. I had practiced walking in them. I had practiced for three hours. I was pretty sure that I could even dance in these suckers.
The curls in my hair were falling. I wore my hair down like I knew Woody liked it. I'm sure that my makeup probably needed touching up. I was pretty sure that none of this mattered anymore. He was well over two hours late. I was sure that he wasn't coming.
I did this last week. He said he wasn't mad at me. Woody said that I did a good thing helping that woman and her daughter. Woody said that he understood that I needed to go out to pick up the body; it was my job . . . it was no different than his job.
I heard he went out for drinks with Devan that night. They didn't go to the Pogue; that's where Garrett and I went. Woody and I never talked about that. He didn't mention a word of it. We just fell back into our routine. He would come watch me work at the Pogue; he would order a beer.
Now, it was my turn to be stood up. I couldn't be mad at him for standing me up. I stood him up last week; I guess that was our trial run. He had given me the wrong date . . . misread the invitation. I deserved this . . . I really deserved this. I wondered if he was there with Devan.
I stand up and unzip my dress letting it fall haphazardly to the ground. I unclasp the strapless bra; it was the first one that I ever owned. I carefully rolled off the nylons. I pulled on a camisole and pajama bottoms. I turned out the lights and crawled into bed; I was crying. I was crying and I didn't realize it until I felt the wetness on the pillow. I spent hours crying before I fell into sleep.