AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am beginning this chapter with a flashback. Thanks for reading, and don't forget... REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED!
It had been a day just like every other day for Marcus Emilio Reese. He had woken up at four in the afternoon, studied his dirty magazines on the window-seat for awhile, scarfed down the few crusts that were left from the pizza the Creeds had eaten the night before, took a swig of milk (right out of the cartoon), shuffled up the stairs and back to his dirty magazines on the window-seat, which he perused until nine o'clock (when the Creeds' Chinese Take-out leftovers were free for the taking), crept up the stairs, into Aria's room, prepared to collapse on the window-seat, and discovered that Kip Winters was already there. So much for it being just like every other day!
"Let me see if I can figure out this mind game you've been playing with me. You don't call for five years, even though I've wasted my life waiting for you, and then you have the balls to show up here, expecting everything to be the same between us. YOU ARE A TWISTED BASTARD!"
"I've missed you too, Marcus, but that's not why I'm here. Aria needs you in Boston… NOW! She won't admit it of course, because we're not exactly on speaking terms at the moment, but the only thing I've ever been sure of when it comes to Aria is that she can't survive without you.
Kip stormed off in a huff, slamming the door deafeningly behind him, before Marcus had the opportunity to form the words, "She can't survive without you either, Man."
Aria craned her neck heavenward for a more optimum view of the Willow Bend Apartments. Graffiti snaked and looped along the length of each building; window panes had been shattered; every clunker of a car in the parking lot had been riddled with bullet holes; children in tattered clothes scampered about in the street, or played with cardboard boxes on various balconies; cats yowled; dogs howled; babies cried; elderly couples amassed on the sidewalks, frantically fanning themselves, while grousing that every air conditioner in the place had been busted for years.
She had not been aware that Boston possessed a ghetto, until Elianna snobbishly stated that she had heard that one of their friends from the good old days of Bridgeport Middle School was living in the Willow Bend Apartments, and the Willow Bend Apartments had a horrendously scandalous history of poverty, violence, mafia, drugs, booze, loose women, and torrid affairs of political officials and religious leaders.
Aria was horrified that one of Elianna's friends (who would all be married to senators and having tea parties in twenty years) would hit the kind of Rock Bottom that lead to living in the ghetto, but Elianna snottily corrected her that the friend in question was Sophia Smitz. Sophia Smitz had been Aria's second best friend during the Dark Days following her mother's death.
Tentatively, Aria ascended the rickety, mysteriously-stained steps, anxiously clenching her teeth, as she tapped her knuckles against the peeling paint of the door to 7G. The aforementioned door was violently thrust outward, hurtling Aria against the opposite wall of the narrow hallway. Gasping for breath, Aria clawed at the wall in an effort to regain her balance. Infuriated, she smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt and menacingly advanced upon whoever had attacked her with the door. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of her sandy-haired, amber-eyed, hoodie-wearing best friend.
In a total Soap Opera Moment, Aria hurled herself into Marcus's waiting arms, but, lurched backward at the realization that Marcus had been so close, but hadn't come to see her; then the flood of melodramatic tears began, and she crumpled to the concrete floor directly on her ass. Marcus raced to her side, lifted her to her high-heeled-clad feet (not the brightest decision for a walking tour of Boston's ghetto), and wryly smirked that THANK GOD HE HADN'T NEARLY ASSASSINATED THE LANDLORD ON A MISSION TO COLLECT SOPHIA'S RENT. Jaw jutted defiantly, Aria hooked her arm through his, as he ushered her into 7G.
Sophia Smitz's portion of the Willow Bend Apartments was the equivalent of a sauna with furniture that would be more efficiently put to use as kindling. Marcus joked that if Aria wanted to experience the grand tour, well, she'd done that simply by entering the room. With a stove a stove and refrigerator jammed into a corner, a battered pull-out sofa, and a TV the size of a new-born kitten, Sophia Smitz whiled away her days, wheelchair-bound. The bathrooms, Sophia expounded, were communal, in the basement, and frequented by cockroaches the size of double-decker busses. The nearest available facility for cleaning one's clothes was four hours away…by plane. Statistically, Sophia nervously continued, five people per floor were murdered every hour… on a good day. Aria convulsed involuntarily at the thought of Sophia Smitz facing an assailant who intended to execute her. The only bodily harm she could inflict from a wheelchair was rolling over his toe.
The Sophia Smitz of years gone by had been one of those people who would talk to you without ever expecting an answer; as long as they could hear themselves prattle, they felt they had achieved Nirvana. The Sophia Smitz of the present had her eyes perpetually downcast; she trembled uncontrollably whenever prompted to speak; and her aquamarine eyes had lost their mischievous glint. The Sophia Smitz of years gone by had been forever out of doors, climbing trees, tumbling in the mud, thoroughly trouncing the local boys at whatever game they devised. The Sophia Smitz of the present was twenty-three, had recently lost her fiancée in the tragic automobile accident that had resulted in her two broken legs, a broken arm, numerous fractured ribs, countless bruises, and a punctured lung. The Sophia Smitz of the present couldn't mask the ear-to-ear grin, which involuntarily materialized whenever Marcus Emilio Reese was near.
Aria glared accusingly at her smitten best friend. He retorted with a snarky smirk as if to say, "This may not be a Jane Austen novel, Sweetheart, but I'm still THE MAN, and as THE MAN, all females are powerless when it comes to resisting my charms! That kiss we shared over Christmas… you know you there's more where that came from; all you have to do is ask and ye shall receive." Marcus Emilio Reese possessed the uncanny knack for conveying extremely layered messages with the minutest twitch of his mouth.
When Sophia awkwardly inched her wheelchair out of the room, on the pretext of "checking her mail," Aria viciously pounced. She was too torn between, "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were in Boston, Bastard!" and "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were still carrying that enormous torch for Sophia Smitz, Bastard!" to comprehensively utter anything but an unladylike plethora of grunts. Marcus telepathically grasped what she was incapable of conveying, as he had for the past seventeen years, and archly chuckled that the fact that he had been attached to her at the hip for nearly two decades certainly didn't mean that his universe revolved solely around her. There were other people, like Sophia Smitz for instance, who meant the world to him.
When Sophia returned with a bundle of magazines balanced on her lap, Marcus regally commanded Aria to guide them through the Quizzes of the Month.
Several hours passed as quickly as the movement of a hummingbird's wings, and Aria promised to come again, as soon as she could escape from her father's clutches. Visit again she did, and again, and again, and again, until the evening when Mr. Waldon Edwards nearly combusted after Aria announced that she would not be joining the rest of the family on their outing in Boston's Cultural District, as she had already made plans with an old friend.
Mr. Waldon Edwards predictably snarled that Aria was disgracing herself by hanging out with anyone who lived at the Willow Bend Apartments, as well as Marcus Emilio Resse; Elianna predictably snarled that Aria was disgracing herself simply by being who she was; Mrs. Ester Rosenburg predictably snarled that Aria was giving the Edwards Family a positive reputation by reaching out to the less fortunate; Aria found comfort in the fact that, even though his father turned up his nose at anyone with less money than himself, he continued to pal around with Mrs. Cross. The debate ended with Aria being scorned by her father and Elianna, supported by Mrs. Ester Rosenburg, and taking the bus to the Willow Bend Apartments despite everyone else's opinion.
Much as Aria appreciated Mrs. Ester Rosenburg's addiction of rushing to her defense, she couldn't help but question her affection for Rex Evans. Aria was greatly disturbed by his past. In his youth, he candidly admitted, he had been an alcoholic, a pimp, a gambler, and a liar. Whenever he passed a drunk, a pimp, a gambler, or a liar on the street, he nodded in their direction and continued on his merry way, without so much as a word of discouragement. Aria couldn't understand how he could watch others making the same mistakes he had without making an effort to stop them; however, what bothered her the most was how Rex Evans could charm everyone he met. There wasn't anything he said or did that didn't make him an immediate favorite of someone. Aria constantly wondered who the REAL Rex Evans was.
From the Blissful Astonishment of Aria to the Smitten Eyes of Marcus:
My Dearest Marcus,
I would have delivered this news in person, instead of by mail, but I was afraid you would attempt to assassinate me with the door again, so here's the latest news:
I received a letter from Marita this morning, and it seems that while you were somehow stealing Sophia Smitz's heart (and PLEASE NEVER ELABORATE UPON YOUR CHOSEN METHODS FOR DOING SO), Lonnie Matthews was doing the same to Mr. Bruno. They are engaged, and the Matthews Family couldn't be more pleased, probably because someone as dimwitted as Lonnie managed to snag a man at all. I suppose I haven't really forgiven her for batting her eyelashes at Kip until he compared her to a brave leaf. UGH!
Marita has forgiven Lonnie for choosing Mr. Bruno over Kip Winters because, unlike Heather, Lonnie won't be getting hitched to a Howard. Marita continued to diss me, as only Marita can, with the pronouncement that Carl's epiphany of Mr. Bruno having a crush on me was a delusion, and she has found immeasurable comfort in the certainty that no gentlemen will ever notice something in more worthy of loving.
All my love,
Aria Edwards
P.S. The Creeds are in Boston to celebrate their 27th anniversary and to renew their vows. They were only able to visit a couple of times, as being a Tourist in Boston involves cramming as many things into your schedule as you can. They asked me to tell you that your window-seat misses you desperately. He's hoping I will be able to convince Kip to come to Boston because, according to him, Kip has always spoken of me like he would a favorite younger sister. This statement has caused countless nightmares.
P.P.S. I've been thinking about this for awhile, and I've decided that since we'll both be in Boston for sometime (you for Sophia, and me, until my Prince Charming miraculously appears; but I'm not holding my breath or anything)… we should probably find a tree here.
P.P.P.S. I am not thrilled about Lonnie's upcoming marriage to Mr. Bruno because Kip Winters is available again. I am thrilled because Mr. Bruno is a nice young man, who could use some happiness in his life, and if a bimbo can provide that happiness…then more power to him!
