From Fall to Winter

Chapter 15

It's been months.

I graduated with a BA in History. Not much to that. I was working on getting my teaching license. I debating getting a job at Bloomingdale's but I couldn't stand slaving away for old rich upper east side women. So I managed a bookstore in Soho instead and slaved for the pretentious academics instead. I never went back to therapy. I wasn't ready to talk about my feelings and possibly develop another drug habit. Oh yeah, I quit weed! Not like that was a problem, but I wanted to get ready for possible drug tests. I didn't have terrible bags underneath my eyes. I slept better. I dreamed better. I have a group of friends now too. All from work. Tom who's doing his PhD in comparative literature, Maya who's a sociology major at NYU, and Jay who, well he just works there. But we work. And that makes me happy. We go to bars, clubs, restaurants and live lives of a sitcom.

My apartment was decorated better. Des was in the process of moving out so she can find a place in the Heights with Carlos. I was looking for a roommate, who'd probably be Maya- since she's trying to avoid those egregious NYU dorm prices.

I put a pot on a pot of coffee. I looked at the save the date card on the fridge. It was a nice picture of them in some green pasture. I had a week left. I bought a ticket to Ireland which took a chunk out of my savings. The ticket was almost my rent. Her colors were light pink. I got a cowl neck dress off the rack from Barney's- with a crazy discount of course.

I debated not going at all. Faking an illness and getting a ticket to Algiers instead. But that's not me anymore. I can't run away from these things. I don't even know why I put their picture on my fridge like that. I've made such progress, which is mainly due to that bit of closure I had with Cillian (or whatever you called that) and the fact I didn't have to see them anymore.

But here I am, walking into the lions den. If this was me a few months ago, I'd drug myself up for their bedding. Just enough for me to walk down the aisle. Just enough for my head to be empty.

But again, I'm not her.

I will be her friend. I will be her maid of honor. I will be his friend. I will be happy. I will be a good person.

I just have to tell myself these things.

I went to the corner of my bedroom which had a bunch of books stacked up. Behind it was the VHS cases I got from Eckherd. I looked for the one that had   3/15/96 written on it. I blew the dust off of it and tossed it into my suitcase.
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Ten hours on a flight. Couldn't complain. I sat on the aisle which was good because the mother and her little daughter next to me where able to look out the window. All I had was an address. I was going to stay at Angela and Cillian's place which was also Cillian's parents home. I almost wish I dished out an extra few hundred for a hotel or something. My taxi driver was a talkative man with a thicker accent than Cillian's if that was possible. But I entertained him with my wild New York stories and he liked me for that. He pulled up to a mossy house. Something I've only seen in movies. I don't think I know what a home is but that was a home.

I rang the doorbell. A minute passed. My taxi driver left. I wanted to ring is again but I didn't want to be annoying. Maybe I should have knocked. There doorbell could be broken. My parents doorbell is broken. If I knock that can also be as annoying as ringing the doorbell again. Alright it's been two minutes. I heard the locks shifting. The door swung open and I was welcomed with a scream.

Angela ran into my body so hard I almost fell back. She continued screeching in my ear. She smelled different. Like soap. I used to always identify her with this fancy department store perfume- I can't remember if it was Chanel or Burberry. She moved back and quickly pulled me inside. I almost didn't notice that she got highlights. Did I look any different? My hair is a big longer. I wear lipstick. Some may call that an upgrade.