Resist Me Not

45

Sitting across from Mrs. Walton was much more intimidating on my own than it ever was when Eric was there. I struggled to maintain my nerves as we made small talk while waiting for our food. My knee was bouncing so much I thought it'd end up knocking into the table. I had to place a hand on it to keep it rested, which didn't seem to help.

She hadn't brought up Eric or the wedding yet, and I had already been there for fifteen minutes. I was grateful when my salad arrived, so I could focus my attention on anything else but her inquiring gaze.

I drizzled the ranch dressing over the top of the pile of lettuce, tomatoes, olives, onions, cucumbers, and croutons. Mrs. Walton lightly cleared her throat, obviously trying to get my visual attention. I looked up, and she smiled tightly. "I suggest you should consider just dipping your fork into the dressing. So you won't have any issues fitting into your dress."

Was she telling me how to eat? Not even my mother would do that. "What dress?" I asked, confused.

"Your wedding dress, of course. Didn't your seamstress just finish taking it in?"

I placed the ramekin of dressing down on the table, looking at her even more confused now. "I thought you said Eric talked to you yesterday?"

She quietly slurped a spoonful of minestrone soup, placed the spoon back down, and dabbed the corners of her mouth with her cloth napkin. "He did."

I crunched my beautifully drenched forkful of salad. I considered responding with my mouth full, but because of the manners my parents instilled me with, I waited until I swallowed before continuing. "Did he tell you we broke up?"

The lack of surprise or any emotion in her face told me he did. "It seems you can't decide what you want, dear. First you're on, then you're off, then you're on again, and now you're off again. That's what we, in the political world, like to call a flip-flopper."

"Mrs. Walton-"

"Donna, please."

"Donna," I said with complete clarity. "I am not a flip-flopper, because I do know what I want. And as much as Eric means to me, we're just not in love. I..." Should I tell her? Surely she already knew. If Eric had told her we were over, she would have asked for details. "I'm in love with someone else. It's not fair for him to be with someone who doesn't love him the way he deserves."

I tried to take another bite but paused as she gave out a light chuckle. It sounded almost evil. It was definitely not the usual musical laugh she ordinarily had. I lowered my full fork back down, resting it on my salad and just stared at her, waiting for her to speak. "Well, I can tell you from first-hand experience, love is fleeting. As I am sure, you are aware of my relationship with Mr. Walton."

I only nodded and resumed eating my salad.

She dipped her finger in her water and guided it around the rim of her glass until it produced a light whirring sound. Had it been any other time, I would have been impressed or amused, but now it was just annoying.

"When I first discovered that he had a mistress, I was devastated, naturally." She removed her finger from the rim and brought her hands to her lap. "But as you know, we are still together. I stayed because I knew his time with her, or any of the others that followed was temporary. So, I let him continue to do whoever he pleases, and in return, I can do whoever I wish. Why throw away a marriage and years of commitment because of a fling?"

I just stared in shock at her openness on the topic. I had always wondered how they could stay together. "Donna, why are you telling me this?"

She ate another spoonful of soup and sipped at her water. The server stopped by briefly to make sure everything was as expected. I didn't look away from Mrs. Walton as she responded politely.