Finding My Way Home Read online

  Nana used to say that being comfortable in a relationship is worse than being in love. When you’re comfortable you decide to look the other way when things go wrong and neither one wants to make a change, whether it’s for the better or for the worse. So far I say she was right on the money on pretty much everything. Both Joe and I have very busy work schedules and while we live together, we have very separate lives. Sometimes I wonder if maybe we decided to move in together out of convenience more than anything else.

  I put a tea bag in my cup and cover it with the boiling water, honey and lemon, just the way my nana showed me so many times before. I’m about to move to the living room when someone knocks on the door. This time I’m able to see through the peephole and I’m surprised to see the “intruder” once again.

  “Good morning princess, nice robe you got there.”

  “Good morning to you too. Seriously no more princess calling or you’ll force me to find you a nick name and trust me when I say that I have a great imagination.

  “My apologies,” he smirks.

  “Oh never mind. I don’t have any coffee but there’s tea if you want some. Let’s get this game thing started and over with.”

  “Are you that excited to spend some time with me?” Noah asks and while I know he’s just kidding, I still feel my whole face suddenly growing hot.

  “Not really, I just want to find out where this letter is,” I reply nonchalantly.

  “You’re not very good at lying are you? Ok so here’s what I know. A few months ago Sonia met with her lawyer and for whatever reason unknown to me she wanted me there with her. There’s a will but he cannot read it to you until you find the letter she left you and follow all the instructions. I have no idea what or where this letter is.”

  I sit back watching him and I wonder if I’m being punked. I must be because there’s no way my grandma, my sweet nana, would play such a trick on me.

  “Look, Noah, are you sure my grandma was lucid when she told you all this? I mean how long ago did you talk to her about this?”

  “Look Brenda,” he mocks me, “how can you even ask me such an idiotic question? Sonia was in better shape than most people her age and there was never a time when she was not fully aware of what was going on. She did all of this for you because she knew you were not happy, no matter how much you want people to believe you live in a perfect world with your perfect boyfriend and your perfect job. So how about I come back later when you are lucid so I can keep my promise to my friend.”

  I’m stunned by his words. Stunned, but deep inside I know he’s right. I feel so overwhelmed by it all and scared at the same time. I can’t find my voice to say more, and Noah decides that our conversation is over. As he pushes his way out of his chair, I finally speak.

  “Stay,” I say loud enough so he can hear me. “I’m sorry. Please stay.” He stares at me for what seems like an eternity, but eventually sits back in his chair.

  “Look I know this all sounds crazy, trust me, I even told Sonia that you would have a hard time with it all, but she thought this was the best thing she could do for you.”

  “I understand. So where is the letter?”

  “I told you I don’t know. She said you’ll be able to find it when the time is right.” His phone rings and I welcome the distraction, yet instead of answering he simply turns the ringer off. “I have to go to work but I’ll be around this evening if you need anything. Oh and before I forget, you don’t have to worry about the utilities being shut off; her lawyer is in charge of paying the bills for the next six months.”

  I walk him to the door and we say goodbye for a second time in less than twenty four hours and once again I’m all alone, millions of unanswered questions running through my head. I take my cup to the kitchen, my tea cold and still untouched, all the while trying to come up with an action plan. The compulsive part of me needs a plan for everything; that’s how I programmed myself to function for the past three years. The past three years I’ve spent with Joe. Three whole years I avoided coming home just so Joe wouldn’t feel neglected. Three whole years I pretty much neglected the one person who sacrificed everything for me. The truth pains me and fills me with guilt because I know I used every excuse in the book to stay away and put my happiness aside in order to keep Joe’s happiness alive.

  Chapter 2.

  I grew up in this house, in a small town called Rockford, and for the first 17 years I never went anywhere outside the town’s limits. My mother had a long battle with cancer and passed away when I was two; just a month before my fifth birthday, my father was killed in a car accident. I was too young to remember my mother but to this day I still think of my dad. As close as we were, the grief I felt when he passed was nothing like what I feel today for my nana.

  Looking back I can now see all the sacrifices my grandparents had to make when they took me in. The one thing that stands out the most is how they saved every penny for my education and never asked for anything in return. Even when my visits got to be few and far between they still did not complain or question my lame excuses.

  All through high school I was a model student and the perfect child that anyone would ask for. I was not a follower and because of that I did not get in any trouble, did not try to smoke, or drink, and couldn’t even imagine experimenting with drugs. When the time came to apply for colleges, my grandparents wanted me to stay close to home but for once I went against their wishes and applied to Boston University. The day the letter came in the mail I thought my heart would burst with happiness and yet my nana could not stop crying. It’s as if she knew the big city would change me forever. No matter how many times I promised her that things would stay the same she knew better; she would just pat my cheek, smile and say that all she wanted was for me to be happy. Subconsciously, I lift my hand and touch my cheek and for a moment I can still feel her warm fingers lingering there. If I could go back in time I know I wouldn’t leave, I know I would stay as close to them as I could and never miss another chance to let them know just what they meant to me.

  The first three years of college were really hard on all of us but I managed to come home every holiday and every break I got, always calling to make sure they were ok. It was the last year of college that ruined it all for me; for us. I finally gave in to the pressure and started socializing more. Drinking and partying like my life depended on it. I no longer wanted to fly home during the holidays; instead I was more interested in going out to clubs and living life, as my roommate so often said.

  It was spring break and we decided to go to this new club called The Atlas. Not a very cool name for a club but it was famous for its techno music and cheap drinks. We piled into my old Honda, all dressed to impress and acting as silly as we could because we thought we were cooler than everyone else. There was no line to get into the club so we had no problems at the door. We danced our way in like the divas we were. And in the mist of bright neon lights, loud euro beats, and 80s style attire, Joe stood out like a sore thumb dressed in his snazzy suit and tie, his eyes searching the room.

  Our eyes met and like the naïve school girl I was, I instantly fell in love. All it took was his crooked dimpled smile to make my knees turn into jello and before I knew it, my friends were pushing me towards the bar.

  “Go say hi and have some fun,” Mayra yelled to make sure I heard over the loud music. “Just don’t think about it; live a little girl.” I pushed my way towards him and just before I reached the bar I turned around, making sure I was not alone. My friends were no longer behind me but dancing wildly to the captivating rhythm. I looked back at the bar where the beautiful stranger was watching me like a hungry wolf about to have his first meal of the day. His smile never faltered and the closer I got, the more enthralled I became. I did not find out his name that evening. There was no room for friendly conversation; instead we danced and drank and danced some more. It wasn’t until the next day when I awoke in his apartment that reality hit, and I could almost taste the bitter regret. How could
I give away my most prized possession (as my nana called it) to someone I didn’t even know; someone I met at a bar and who didn’t even give me his name.

  He was still asleep, sprawled on his stomach his face towards me. I could tell he was not wearing anything under the sheets that covered half of his toned body, the sight of him making me flush with embarrassment. I pushed myself as close to the edge of the bed as I could in hopes that I would be able to slip out without him knowing. Just as I was almost up, I felt him stir.

  “Are you running away,” he smiled through sleeping eyes. I froze in place, trying to hide my naked body with what looked like a man’s shirt.

  “I’m not running,” I answered, my voice so small I don’t think he heard me.

  “Give me a sec and I’ll take you out for breakfast.”

  I was too nervous to speak so I simply nodded and tried not to stare at his body as he got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. Oh Lord what did I get myself into? I could hear the water running and I’m still wondering if maybe I should just get dressed and leave before he comes back. Looking around the room I can tell that we were in a hurry last night, my clothes and his are all over the bedroom floor.

  I grabbed my underwear and bra and put them on as fast as I could and I’m about half way into my dress when he walks back in.

  “You look better in the daylight.”

  I’m stuck inside the tight garment and I’m wishing that I could hide in here for the rest of my life. My arms are straight out the top when suddenly strong arms are pushing down my dress, releasing me from my hideaway.

  “There you go. The bathroom is right over there if you need it. There are clean towels and a new toothbrush that you’re more than welcome to.”

  How can he be so casual about all this, I wonder? Is bringing strange girls to his place an everyday thing for him? I just want to get away from this place but instead I hear myself thanking him and walk into the bathroom and close the door behind me. I take a quick shower, scrubbing away last night’s memory, and by the time I’m back into my clothes I feel a little bit better.

  I walk into the bedroom but find it empty. I follow the noise and end up in the living room where the stranger is watching TV.

  “There you are. Feeling better?” he asks politely.

  “Yes thank you. Look about last night-”

  “It was great and I already know it’s not something you usually do. I wasn’t drunk if that’s what you thought so I know I was your first.”

  “Oh,” I reply, not knowing what else to say.

  “So how about that breakfast? Sounds good?”

  “Yes, that sounds great.”

  We walk out of his apartment and just as we are about to step outside, his hand finds mine and our fingers intertwine bringing a smile to my face.

  “I’m Joe by the way,” he says sheepishly.

  “Nice to meet you Joe. I’m Brenda.”

  I could still remember what we had for breakfast that morning, what he was wearing, and even what we talked about. It was an amazing day that turned into an amazing month and eventually an amazing year. It was easy to fall in love with him and even my friends welcomed him into our group without a second thought. He was five years older than me, already a successful lawyer, working for his father’s law firm. Although he worked long hours he always made time for me, and before long I was spending almost every night at his place.

  If my grandparents noticed the change in me, they never mentioned it. It had been so long since I had been home and I was glad to see them on the day of my graduation. The same day they had a chance to meet Joe. While they were courteous towards him, I knew that for whatever reason, they did not like him, the disappointment on their face too obvious to ignore. That summer instead of going home, Joe took me to California on his business trip and while he was spending time in meetings, I was having a blast at Disneyland and taking pictures all over Hollywood Boulevard.

  It was also that summer that he asked me to move in with him and I didn’t have to think twice about it. I was deeply in love and I couldn’t believe how fortunate I was to have him as my partner. Six months later, my grandfather had a heart attack and passed away leaving my nana all alone. I know I should’ve moved back to help out but instead I listened to Joe and stayed in Boston.

  “Babe you can’t possibly think about moving back. You just started a new job and you know how hard it was for you to find it. The first year is crucial for your career. Your grandfather would be so proud of you right now and I know he would agree with me when I say, your place is here.”

  Whether he was right or not is no longer important; I ended up staying and had to tell myself every single day that I was doing the right thing. The fun times we had while I was still in school were replaced by a hectic work schedule, dinners with his clients and mandatory workout sessions. I was a robot programmed by my master to do whatever pleased him, with no room for negotiations. I wish I could put all the blame on Joe for the way things turned out but I was in the relationship also. I don’t think anyone really knew the truth about us and many of our friends envied us. If only they knew that two years after we moved in together we were no longer intimate and most nights slept in separate rooms.

  As time went by, we became more roommates than anything, neither one of us willing to face our problems. We were living a lie, keeping up the pretense with everyone around us. Joe would even go the extra mile and talk about marriage every time someone would ask us about the future. What they didn’t know was that every night I would lay alone and cry myself to sleep; I don’t think even Joe was aware of just how lonely I felt. Maybe he felt just as alone. I continued to live that lie for three years, concentrating on work and nothing else, accepting the life I had so willingly created for myself.

  Chapter 3

  What was my nana thinking to put me in this predicament? I have never been good with making the right decisions, instead always counting on others to make the first move. Now it was all on me. I look around the old kitchen and wish I could talk to her at least one more time. No matter how many times I try to come up with a plan, I always come up empty.

  The only thing I can think of is that I need a shower and some fresh clothes so I make my way to the car to bring in the overnight bag. The air is so cold it feels like thousands of sharp needles prickling my skin as it turns a bright shade of pink. I hurry back inside and head for my bedroom to unpack the few things I have with me. My closet is still filled with my old clothes from before college, each one reminding me of my old self. When did I stop wearing such fun bright colors?

  I drop my robe and dress on the floor and hit the shower, turning the water as hot as my skin would allow it. Within seconds the entire room is covered in steam, yet the burning stream fails to warm up my freezing body. I press my cheek on the flowery tile and let the tears flow freely as the sobs take over. I stay like that, one with the wall, until the hot water runs cold. I heard someone once say that nothing a good cry, a hot bath, and a stiff drink can’t cure; as the bath and the crying failed I am starting to believe that maybe the only cure is a stiff drink.

  Covered in nothing but a towel, I find myself staring at the old closet and pick up an old pair of jeans and one of the many sweaters my nana made for me. It has a white daisy and a bumblebee on the front, knitted in bright colors, to brighten your day even in rainy weather. I gingerly run my hand over the beautiful flower and tears sting my eyes once again. I used to hate this sweater, thinking I was too old to wear something as childish as this, yet now looking at myself in the small mirror I can’t help but think of all the work she put into it and how close to her I feel just by wearing it.

  I rule against drying my hair and instead twist it in a bun on top of my head and walk out to the kitchen, laptop in hand. I know I have exactly five more days until I need to return to work so whether I like it or not it’s time to come up with a plan. I open a blank document and try my hardest to focus on the task at hand; this usually
worked but it seemed nearly impossible today. My stomach growls as if to remind me that I’ve skipped a few meals since I got here, however I have no appetite.

  I keep staring at the white screen and wish I could make the words appear in front of me, telling me what my next move should be. I pick up my cell and just as I’m about to dial Joe’s number, it starts ringing, an unknown number lighting up the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Princess.” I should be annoyed with him for calling me that again, instead a happy feeling starts forming in the pit of my stomach.

  “How did you get my number,” I manage to ask.

  “Sonia gave it to me to use in case I ever needed to contact you. Did you eat? I’m done for the day and thought I’d do the neighborly thing and bring you some food.”

  Why couldn’t he be an asshole? Why did he always say the right things, making me feel things I shouldn’t feel? I’ve only known him for two days but that didn’t seem to matter.

  “No it’s ok.”

  “No, you haven’t had lunch, or no you don’t want to eat with me?”

  “Noah it’s very nice of you to offer but I’m really not hungry. I’m sure I’ll be able to find some canned soup or something.”

  “Aha, ok I’ll see you in about thirty minutes.” Before I can argue, the line goes dead and I realize that I’ve been holding my breath this whole time. Once again a multitude of mixed feelings are invading my very core and I try my hardest to compose myself; I can’t let him see me like this, like the weakling that I am.

  Dark clouds are covering the sky, making the room dark and cold. I pick up my stuff and move in the living room. Feeling a chill I decide to make a fire while I wait for him. I sit in front of the fireplace, my mind still a blank canvas, surrounded by emptiness and unanswered questions. I am still sitting in the same spot, wondering just how I’ll be able to find my way when I hear the knock. I answer the door without even bothering to check who was on the other side; he’s holding a large bag from Carl’s Jr. and just seeing that yellow star makes me smile. I can’t remember the last time I ate there and the smell of greasy food makes my mouth water.