Deborah sat at the table in
the restaurant surrounded by her best friend, Mari, across from her
and her ex-boyfriend, Brent, who wouldn't leave her alone, by her
side. They both bowed their heads and prayed before eating their
nachos and cokes. Deborah closed her eyes and patiently waited for
them to finish. Once they had opened their eyes, Mari looked
straight across at them and asked in a straightforward, inquisitive
fashion all her own,
“Are you guys gonna get
married?”
At once, Deborah answered
“No” while Brent answered “Yes.” There was a long awkward
pause as Brent glared over at Deborah who cowered into her coca-cola.
Mari looked back and forth between them, apologetically and a
bit ashamed for bringing it up. The rest of the meal was spent in
silence as they hurriedly ate their meal, unsure of what to say. Off
and on, Brent would question her whether she had started up a
relationship with that 'coffee boy', the non-christian sinner who
worked at the coffee shop she was now frequenting. Deborah again and
again said no, which was true, but denied even liking him, even as
she reached into her purse and felt over and over to make sure her
cell-phone was on and turned up so she could hear any incoming calls. It
had been a whole day since she had given him her phone number but
that seemed like an eternity to her. Notably, more out of
embarrassment and shyness than any kind of flirtatious ploy, she had
not ventured down to the coffee shop that day.
They finished their meal and
made their way to her car, where Mari piled in the backseat and Brent
in the passenger seat. Deborah drove Mari back to her house in the
outskirts of town. Brent berated her all the way, about her
spiritual walk with Jesus (what?), her duty to him after three years
of relationship (even though she had broken it off last summer), and
questioned her repeatedly whether she liked this coffee boy (she
continuously denied even as she pined for Matt's phone call).
At Mari's house, they
quickly hurried back to her bedroom, saying a quick hello to Mari's
room-mate and her children. Mari asked Brent for a massage, and as
she laid on the bed, he climbed on top of her to comply, Brent
continuing his barrage of insults towards Deborah in hopes she would
comply to his wishes of marriage.
When the massage had ended,
Deborah's phone rang. She looked down and recognized the unknown
caller from earlier that day. Her heart quickened, could it in fact
be him? If so, she'd have to ask him why he didn't...Brent tried to
snatch the phone from her hand, she held it firm.
“Is that him?” he spat
out.
“Uh, no, no,” she
responded quickly.
“Let me talk to him,”
came Mari's insistent comment, seemingly from far off. Deborah shook
her hand and demanded, “no,” sticking her phone deep down in her
pocket.
“Let's get you home,
Brent,” was all she said and Mari ushered them out the door.
They parked on the hill down
the street from Brent's house. The dark of the night emptied itself
around her car, shrouded them in secrecy.
“Please, Deborah, tell
me,” he insisted in his best seductive whisper. “Do you like
him?”
Deborah shook her head,
tears springing to her eyes, fighting them back.
“Do you still love me?”
he wanted to know again. Deborah stared straight ahead, not sure of
how to answer. “Please answer me,” he insisted.
“I need to get home,”
was all she could say. “Early day tomorrow.”
“You are going to call him
back, aren't you?” Brent demanded.
“I don't know, Brent, I
don't know, okay?” was all she could say, hoping he would get out
of the car and leave so she could at last be done with him.
“Well, what are you doing
tomorrow?” Brent wanted to know, a tinge of hope springing in his
heart.
“What?” Deborah seemed
confused and then, “Oh, I don't know...”
“You said you had an early
day tomorrow,” Brent started. “You going down to the cafe?”
“Oh, no, I, uh, um, have
stuff to do around the house, before work next week,” came
Deborah's fumbled reply.
“Yeah, okay,” Brent
said, grabbing the door handle. “I'll call you.”
He opened the door and let
it slam behind him, moving up the steep hill to his house. Deborah
started the engine and let the car drift down the hill, slowly
making her way home, breathing a sigh of relief. She'd avoided that
catastrophe at least for tonight.
At her house, she walked
quietly into the back bedroom she rented from the couple upstairs.
Sitting on her bed, she pulled out her phone and kicking off her
shoes and pulling her legs up on her bed, she pressed “call back”
on the number that had called a few hours earlier.
“Hello?” came the
familiar warm and friendly voice of her cute coffee boy.
“Hi,” Deborah said, a
smile on her face and in her voice.
“Oh, hello there,” he
breathed a smile of his own. “How are you?”
“Doing well, yourself?”
she really wanted to know.
“All right,” he said.
“Doing better now.”
Deborah smiled into the
phone. She propped up a pillow, and flipped on the lamp by her bed,
then got up and turned off the overhead light in the room. Pressing
the phone against the ear, she simultaneously pulled her pants off,
letting them fall to the floor and asked,
“So what did you do
today?”
“Had to work a double
shift,” came Matthew's reply. “Barbara called in sick.”
“Barbara?”
“The girl that works at
the cafe,” Matthew explained. “The only one left besides me,
although I think Randy is thinking of re-hiring Thomas, at least part
time.”
“Thomas?”
“One of my friends, hangs
out with me at the cafe, used to work there before me,” Matthew
explained. “Sorry about all the confusion and Randy is the owner.”
“Oh I see,” Deborah was
thinking. “Is Thomas the one that always wears a tie or...?”
“Yeah,” Matthew laughed.
“Except he doesn't ALWAYS wear a tie, only for work. But nice
description, I'll tell him you said that.”
They both laughed.
“So tell me about your
other, um, friends,” Deborah continued the conversation.
“From the cafe?” Matthew
wanted clarification and confirmation.
“Yeah, them,” was all
Deborah confirmed.
“Well, there is Shaggy,
knew him in high school, James, who I just met, and Ray, and you know
Thomas,” Matthew began. “That's pretty much the regulars
although there are a few more that come by from time to time.”
“Okay, so which is which?”
Deborah asked. “And Shaggy?”
Matthew laughed and began to
explain.
“Yeah, Shaggy is the one
that looks like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo,” Matthew said. “When you
come in tomorrow, you'll notice him, can't miss him. Crazy hippie
conspiracy theorist probably at the computer!”
“Oh, so I'm coming in
tomorrow, huh?” Deborah teased.
“Well, I hope so,”
Matthew admitted.
“Okay then,” Deborah
agreed. “So, then there is, um, Ray, and, um, James and they
are--”
“Okay, James is the one
that always wears all black and Ray is, well, Ray is the other one,”
Matthew explained.
“Okay, I got it, I think,”
Deborah said. “So, I've got another question for you.”
“So many questions!”
“Sorry,” Deborah
relented.
“No, its okay, I just have
a few for you, that's all,” Matthew explained. “Go ahead.”
“I got this phone call
yesterday after I left the cafe, from an unknown number, but I think
it was yours,” Deborah awkwardly began.
“Yeah, you know, I saw a
number had been dialed out from my phone,” Matthew quickly
interjected. “I don't know what that was about, I mean, maybe it
was a butt dial or maybe one of my friends was playing a practical
joke or something. Sorry about that.”
“Its okay,” Deborah.
“It was just a little weird, I guess.”
“Yea, sorry,” Matthew
apologized again.
“Don't worry about it, its
fine,” she said again. “So, what are your questions? What do you
want to know?”
“Um, let's see I know you
just graduated college, so you are one of those transplant types,”
Matthew began and then awkwardly sputtered out, “You seeing
anyone?”
“Well, not right now, I'm
alone in my room,” Deborah joked. Then, she explained, “Not
anymore, I was but we broke up last summer. It's totally over.”
And, that was all the
information she would give to him about Brent. He didn't need to
know anything more about Brent, as far as Deborah was concerned, no
matter what Brent wanted or thought, they were over.
“Yeah, okay, good,”
Matthew was relieved. “So, where are you from?”
“Well, I grew up in
California but I don't like to admit that,” Deborah laughed into
the phone. Matthew joined her. The joke around town was how much
the townies and the locals hated Californians, the yuppies that moved
into the town and took over completely.
“Well, I won't hold it
against you,” Matthew reassured her.
“But you will hold
yourself against me,” Deborah inwardly cringed at her forwardness
and Matthew laughed,
“If you insist,” he
smiled into the phone. “So, you coming into the coffee shop
tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I can do that, what
time?”
“Well, I'm not working
tomorrow,” he began. “So, I thought we could meet and then go
for a walk or something, maybe.”
“I'd like that,” Deborah
said excitedly.
“How about we meet around
10:30?” he asked hopefully.
“Sounds perfect,” she
agreed.
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