That’s what I hoped for Dane and Carla. Dane would actually graduate from my class along with Hailey who’d been accepted into a nurses’ aide program, Clarence who’d start auto mechanics at the local tech college and Viola who’d already applied to become a cop. I’d convinced Dane to check out some graphic design schools and he was floored when he heard back from a couple.
I found the perfect dress after four hours of wandering. Just right for afternoon tea. Acceptable at even the swankiest college prep school. A fifties-inspired flared white cotton skirt printed with brilliant blue cornflowers, topped with a white, glazed cotton shirt, with starched wing collar and three-quarter sleeves – all tied together nicely with an indigo cotton sash. I scraped my hair into an Audrey Hepburn pleat, slipped on some pearl earrings, applied a final slick of scarlet lipstick and twirled around in front of the mirror. The tulle petticoat rustled and crackled underneath the cotton glaze. I felt beautiful. I’d achieved success in my job and I had a beautiful, safe home. A wonderful, gentle man loved me and I loved him back in my own limited way. My heart swelled with joy.
If only it could always be this way, but it wouldn’t. Birdie was always there in the background. The memory of her needling at me like an itch that couldn’t be scratched. The vengeance still to be exacted thrumming like a discord in the harmony of my new life.
“You’re a vision,” said Guy sweeping into the room. “Did you ever consider a modeling career?”
I snapped out of my dream. Adoration burned in his eyes. I could barely look at him.
“You could say I was a late bloomer.”
It was a crevice, a crack in the armor, enough to entice him. He caught my hand and kissed it. “Tell me what you were like as a kid. I want to know. Did you have a dumb hairdo or zits on your chin?”
The drawbridge clanged shut. All entries barred. “There’s nothing to talk about,” I said, turning away. “It’s all in the past now.”
He touched the stiff points of my collar, a playful smile on his face. “You know I’m a patient guy, Anna. I’ll wait and whenever you’re ready you’ll tell me.”
I wondered what I’d ever done to find someone like Guy. Then I remembered. I’d made it my business to find him. Why pretend to myself I hadn’t? It was time to be honest with myself. To quit the lying and self-deception.
“You’re a good man,” I said, kissing him on the lips. “A good guy. Guy.”
He caught me around the waist. “I always feel so happy around you. So complete. Something about you is so real, so familiar. As if we’ve met in another life.”
“Don’t get all cheesy on me,” I said, looking at my reflection in the mirror next to his. If only he knew.
We had met in another life.
On a day when two very different lives collided on a street. Me tracing the sharp edge of a key with a nicotine-stained finger, the stink of days’ old sweat on my clothes. Him standing by a gleaming BMW, shiny hair and clear skin like a young prince. The look of panic in his eyes. Tell me what you said, he screamed as I ran down the alley, away from the scene of my sister’s undoing.
“Maybe we did,” I said, wiping the smudge of lipstick from the corner of his mouth. He smelled like lemon and shaving soap. I could have lapped my tongue into the crevices of his neck. He was mine. All mine now. What would his father say if he knew? It would tear him up inside. Make him sweat a little at the thought of someone so close knowing all his dirty secrets. But I caught sight of the time and remembered Robin’s obsession with punctuality. “Gotta go. It’s grad day.”
“Dinner tonight. Somewhere special,” he said, catching me around my waist.
“A rare steak and some blood-red wine by candlelight,” I whispered.
He kissed behind my ear. “Then I’ll bare my neck to you, my favorite, sexy vampire.”
“Promise? You know I’ll suck you dry,” I said, tearing myself away to grab my purse. My face was so flushed I’d need a full blast of air conditioning to settle down.
Robin had invited a group of local musicians to the ceremony. They played a folksy version of ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ as the graduates filed in. Scented candles burned on the front table next to bowls of bright yellow daisies. We sat in a circle in the multi-purpose room, my skirt rustling with the slight trickle of air conditioning that blew from the aged wall units. The light tinkle of the tambourine and the heady, floral scent of candle smoke made my heart ache. For some strange reason they reminded me of my mother. For the woman I’d never known. When she was young and hopeful and full of life.
I wished I could have seen her then, but I rarely touched that hollow place, barely thought of the shadowy figure that was always out of reach, closing a door before I got to it, turning a corner when I was too far behind. I’d never know when and why she lost her way. But then the sounds and scents lulled me into a daydream and I found myself slipping back in time again to think about another graduation day. My own high school grad.
After the explosion at the Flatts’ place, the medics rushed me to hospital. Social workers, doctors and nurses flitted in and out of my room, discussing, conferring, trying to figure out why on earth I’d landed back at a known meth house.
I was malnourished, anemic, and I had a raging chest infection. I was also suffering
