The sunlight shone in through my open window covering, I rolled away, seeking the darkness that my pillow was providing in a effort to get just a few more minutes sleep. Maybe it was by habit but I had subconsciously left my window open a crack the night before, hoping a little rashly that Fulton would be climbing up the front roof and into my heart all over again. I hadn't done it purposely but being back in this room, I immediately had gone to the window and opened it up just an inch as if I was 13 years old again. My mind was at peace for the first time a many days before it was suddenly jolted back to reality and I realized what I had to do today. There would be hundreds if not more people crowding into my house today for what was supposed to be a small gathering to remember Tommy. My Mother had not been up to doing it after the funeral the day before so it was to be that afternoon instead. I groaned thinking of the all the people that would want to shake my hand and express their fake sympathy that was only offered because of who I was. I hated people in general, they were always so fake.
Like I said before, I might seem like a bitch or something to that line but really I'm just in self-pity and I was the only one left at the party. My parents were trying to support each other and Tommy was gone. The feeling of complete solitude was like a blanket of darkness invading my mind the more I thought about it. I sat up, trying to push the hair from my make-up stained face. I hadn't bothered to try to prepare for sleep last night, as I knew it wasn't coming. Tommy would sleep forever, lucky him, while the rest of us had to go on and try to figure out where we were supposed to be going. When in reality, in the end we would all follow him into that eternal sleep anyways, so what was the point. Maybe it was selfish of me but I suddenly wished it were me and not him; it would be so much easier.
My feet grazed the floor before moving me towards the dresser and I glared into the mirror, my blue eyes stared back at me with lifelessness. There was no sparkle, no hope of what tomorrow might hold for me, nothing worth even really mentioning, just dull not even pretty blue orbs. Suddenly feeling sort of sick, I sat down in my desk chair and stared at the wall, absently. My alarm clock going off startled me from the party I had spoke of earlier, dancing in my head.
"Good Morning, Minneapolis! This is Dan Stevens with WKKB for the twin cities waking up with a weather brief, it will be 85 and sunny as we can all see looking out our windows, so why am I really reading this." He said seeming like he didn't have a care in the world. I silently wished I were a character out of the Harry Potter book that everyone was talking about and could wipe my mind clear of all thoughts. I sighed, hitting the clock as I heard my parents stirring from their room just down the hall. I silently waited , knowing my Mother would be at my door within a few seconds,
"Tammy?" She asked as I looked up at her once she made it to my door.
"I'm up." I said matter-of-factly, not really showing any emotion. She didn't really react; I think she was too tired too. Her eyes were lifeless and her face worn from tears that she couldn't shed. I wanted to cry all over again for her but I had no more tears left.
"Okay." Was all she said before exiting my room and shutting the door. I let out a whimper before, collapsing at the foot of my bed in a crying mess. How was I supposed to handle this? Even I, Miss. Tammy Duncan, did not know.
The afternoon crept up on me, as I spent most of the morning in the upstairs bathroom, applying make-up and staring into the mirror before I'd realize what I had to do that afternoon and then cry for which I'd have to re-do the make-up I'd applied. After the third time of doing this, I decided it wasn't going to happen and abandoned the idea of wearing make-up at all, tossing the eye liner into the sink. I approached the stairs, looking straight ahead to keep my mind focused on what I had to do. I passed his room and any other time I would have stopped to glance inside to make sure he was getting ready or waiting for me. I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach as I passed the darkened room this time, and in that split second, I realized I hadn't really known him the way I used to. I stood in the hall, just staring into the darkness, almost transfixed on something in the room. It was his Mighty Ducks jersey, lying on the chair. Mom must have found it when she was looking for his suit two days earlier and placed it there.
"Tammy?" My Father's voice ascended the stairs and I moved away from the room, pulling the door shut to hold the memories inside.
"I'm coming." I said heading down the stairs. He stood at the bottom, silently telling me it was going to be all right with his eyes.
People were already arriving when I reached the bottom of the staircase; my Aunt Lucy was seated at the kitchen island, talking in low voices with my Mother, no doubt about me because she immediately quieted when I entered the room.
"Tamara, sweetie." She said getting up to kiss my cheek; she was the only one that ever addressed me by my birth name. I hated that name, though Mom picked it for some reason.
"How are you holding up?" She asked staring at me. As if there was an answer to that, I thought, mumbling a response and quickly finding something to occupy myself. Why is it that everybody always wants to know how you are or how you're feeling? The answer is so obvious that it could hit them over the head, I'm pissed, I'm torn-up and I'm really sick of answering that question, I thought, cutting up some vegetables for the platter that my Mother had placed in front of me. Keeping my hands busy would keep my mind busy from thinking all the thoughts I was trying to avoid. The front door bell rang once again and my Father's footsteps could be heard heading for the door. I didn't bother to look up, it didn't matter who it was anyways.
"Hello, Thank you for coming." His voice filled the room with sincerity, "Tammy's in the kitchen." He voiced as I tensed up, knowing it was someone here to "support" me. I was just about to run when Connie, Guy and Charlie stood in the kitchen doorway staring at me with worried eyes. I tried to smile so they wouldn't ask that question but I couldn't, feeling the tears in my eyes beginning to build up. Connie moved forward first, taking me in her embrace to let me know she was here for me. I couldn't help but begin to let the tears fall, knowing that I still had friends.
"It's okay." She soothed me as Guy and Charlie didn't really know what to do so they stood by observing the scene and placing a comforting hand on our shoulders. I regained control of myself, hearing the doorbell again and straightened up.
"I'm fine." I said a little shaken. He appeared out of the corner of my eye, in the doorway behind Guy. He was dressed in a tie and a button down blue dress shirt. I nearly laughed, I'd never seen him dress up before in my entire life.
"Fulton?" I asked as they all turned around. I tried to smile but couldn't since I was still in the middle of crying a river.
"I thought since I wasn't there yesterday maybe I could be here for you today?" He asked, seeming a little nervous. I didn't know what to say at that moment and just stared at him almost a look of confusion marking my worn face. I said the first thing that came to my mind,
"Thank you for coming." Which sounded more like a robot than me. He nodded, glancing at my Mother, who didn't have the energy to even shoot him a dirty look. She was silently conversing with my Aunt again across the island counter.
"We can't stay long, we just wanted to come and let you know we're here for you." Connie said touching my arm. I broke the stare with Fulton, glancing at her.
"Okay, I'll call you before I leave. You're going to do that thing we talked about right?" I asked talking of the fact that I had asked Connie to be my Maid-of-Honor at my wedding and she'd agreed.
"Absolutely." She said trying to make me smile but I didn't.
"Okay, I'll call you." I said again, forgetting I had said that already. They made their way out of the kitchen as Fulton and I were left alone. The silence was almost hurtful, as I suddenly, couldn't handle it anymore,
"Excuse me." I said heading for the stairs and heading for my room, the safest place in my mind. Fulton stood there for a minute, wondering if he should follow me before finally deciding he would.
The soft knock on my door startled me, I jumped a little from my hiding spot. I was curled up in the window seat, crying and silently watching as people that I didn't want to talk enter the house below.
"Come in." I muttered as I wiped at my eyes. He stood there, still looking out of place, although he really hadn't changed from the picture that haunted my dreams at night. I would never admit that I still dreamed about him at times because that wasn't something to talk about being in engaged to marry Scott in 6 weeks. I'd made my decision I had to keep telling myself.
"Is there anything I can do?" He asked, shutting my door and bringing my desk chair over for him to sit down in front of me. I sighed, suddenly wishing I smoked, so I'd have something to do with my hands to keep my mind busy.
"No." I whispered, turning my eyes back to the window. So we sat in silence for what seemed like an hour, me staring out the window and Fulton staring at me with wondering eyes. He took my right hand in his hands after a few minutes and rolled my fingers in his palm. His hands were considerably rougher than I remembered. I grimaced after a minute and went to pull my hand away.
"Sorry." He softly said, letting go, "I work as a carpenter now, you know, building things. My hands are really beat up." He said rubbing them on his pants, almost trying to rub off the toughness.
"I didn't mean it that way." I mumbled, hugging my knees to my chest.
"I know." He answered back fast, looking at the floor. I nodded, looking back out the window again.
"I'm sorry." I said taking a deep breath in.
"It's okay, I understand."
"No, I don't think you do...I really am...I've been a real... I've been a real something lately." I started as Fulton quieted me.
"Tammy, it's understandable." He said standing up to leave.
"Where are you going?" I asked, panic suddenly jumping into my mind. I can't be alone, I thought.
"I thought, you might need your space." He said suddenly confused.
"No." I said simply as he sat back down. "Do you want to go for a walk?" I asked him, suddenly wanting to get out of the house, feeling very trapped in my own skin.
"I guess." He said, equally confused but standing up. I stood too, throwing my old sneakers on with my navy blue dress. I didn't care how I looked to other people.
We snuck out the back door, passed everyone I didn't want to talk to, heading towards town. He kept looking at me as if I he hadn't seen me in years, which was the truth.
"What?" I asked a little annoyed.
"Nothing, it's just a new thing for you to be back and here, you know, with me." He said turning to face ahead. I nodded in understanding, hoping the conversation didn't go any farther that small talk.
"A lot of things are new..." I muttered, glancing at the old park, which was now closed to the public. A new one was open down the block; apparently the old one wasn't safe anymore with its wooden playground and old equipment.
"Why are we walking?" He asked, suddenly feeling like he was 13 again and sneaking around behind my parents backs.
"I don't know. It just feels like the right thing." I looked up at the bright sky, letting the sun wash over me with it's glow. I could feel his eyes watching me, studying me to try to take notes on all the differences in me.
"Oh." He said, keeping pace as we made it to the edge of town.
"No, it feels like the old times." I corrected myself stopping at the corner and turning to him, my eyes big with confusion.
"The old times weren't that bad..." He said trying to taking my hand in his own again.
"But we can't go back. The past is the past." I said taking my hand back from his grip. We had walked in a complete circle, heading back to my house now. We stopped at the front gate before sneaking in the backyard and sitting on the back porch steps.
"Why did you cut your hair?" His question caught me off guard and I had to think about it for a minute. My hair, my beautiful long blond hair was not up to my shoulders and very dull.
"Had to." I said plainly, "It was too heavy for skating, it kept falling down and getting in my way."
"Oh." He said. I was surprised he even noticed, most guys wouldn't have. I had a feeling he had thought about me every day I was gone just like I had him and he had remembered what I looked like at 13. I pushed the thought away, it was not the time or the place to being doing this.
"Thanks for being here." I nervously announced standing up to head into the house. It was my basic dismissal without trying to be rude.
"I'm going to head out, I've got to be up early for work." He said suddenly as I turned to look at him.
"Okay..." I said not sure what else to say to his statement, not much else I wanted to say.
"When are you leaving?" He asked, his hands clasped at his waist.
"Sunday." I said feeling a little uneasy but nodding in a effort to steady myself.
"Well, I'll call you before that." Fulton said heading out of the yard. I felt my heart ache to watch him walk away again but it wasn't my place to stop him anymore. What we had was over and done with, I just couldn't let it go.
