Choices for Coffee Cat

SHADE (Love story)1

He sprinted along the beach, focused solely on escaping. The music that emitted from his Ipod flowed over him and the waves that lapped against his feet didn't deter him. Reality was catching up with him again and he fought it fiercely. Every muscle in his body burned with the effort. He hadn't run this hard or this long in months.2

He had been running for over two hours before he slowed down to catch his breath. He stopped at a tall rock standing against the ocean. The shadow it offered was long, dark, and inviting.3

He half-crouched with his hands on his knees, panting. A bright white earbud had fallen out of his ear and sweat rolled down his bronzed body, creating a dark V on the back of his gray t-shirt. He regained his breath, slumped against the rock’s solid surface, and slid down into the sand. He was thirsty. He could hear water pushing against the other side of the rock. But saltwater wouldn't help.4

He heard the sound of a bottle cracking. He straightened. Someone else was there. Drinking. He waited. The bottle crackled again. His brain wanted him to get up and keep running, away from any human interaction. He had three more hours before he was required to be back to reality. But his body instead stood, and propelled itself around the rock.5

In the small cove created by the rock and a couple palm trees, sat a girl. Her long brown legs were stretched out in front of her. Her black Pumas had been kicked off and he thought she looked almost naked in her white running shorts and red jog bra. She stared out at the ocean, with an ironic smile teasing the corner of her mouth. Her face was smooth, relaxed, and peaceful. He wanted her peace. Where had she gotten it? Had it taken her a long time? Or had she just not been through what he had? 6

The girl didn’t notice him. He approached her quietly, wondering what he would say. “Hey.” 7

He saw her spine stiffen, and the tranquility slip away from her face. She twisted to look at him. He watched her dark eyes slowly travel up the length of him to his face. And when their eyes met, he realized that she wasn't at peace after all. 8

He took a step back. He recognized the feeling in her eyes and he didn't like it. It lived in him. He didn't want to see it; he was trying to outrun it. She was surprised to hear him land in the sand next to her. She looked at him. He looked back.9

She had wanted to be alone, but when she looked at him, she was glad she wasn't. A whirlpool of sadness was tugging at her heart, threatening, and she felt the other feeling that always accompanied it. The insane, floundering-for-control feeling. Maybe she needed someone to hold her together. She leaned in slowly, watching him watch her. He didn't move toward her or encourage her in any way but she saw his eyes slip momentarily to her mouth. 10

It wasn't her first kiss, but she felt like it should have been. Her first kiss was good, but this was clumsy, awkward, unsatisfactory. It ended quickly. She was perplexed; he looked like a good kisser. Maybe it was her. The thought scared her and she wasn’t sure if it was because it was so unlike her to be insecure or if it was because it was probably true.11

She pulled away and sat for a minute. When she looked at him, he was still watching her. She shifted closer to him and he caught her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. They were in that detached, foggy bubble that endorphins can create. Minutes later, the shallow dregs of a wave spread over her feet, bringing her back to reality. She was on her feet immediately, untangling their fingers and sliding her shoes on over wet, sand-crusted socks.12

"Hey."13

She bent over to tie a shoe, avoiding eye contact. She was embarrassed by how dumb she was being. She was July Robinson. She did not get embarrassed around boys. She was confident and special and a force to be reckoned with. But he had caught her in a crazy moment, and as always, she had acted on it. That's why she had been running; she needed space and she knew it. Why couldn't he have just given her space?14

"Can I have some water?"15

She tossed it over, still not looking at him. 'You're July. You can't slink off like an ordinary girl,' she told herself. She finally looked at him. He was staring into the ocean with a bored expression, drinking from her water bottle. A hot flush sneaked up her neck. She turned away quickly. He had the rare ability to make her feel ordinary.16

'You'll never see him again,' she assured herself, stretching briefly.17

He watched her go. Her café-au-lait-colored body was jogging into the golden, setting sky. She had nice form.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*******************************************************************
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
HAVEN (sad story)18

CHAPTER 1: (sad story)19

When Alyce Brown was two years old, her parents took her to Ocean City, Maryland. The community was know for its night life, which is why Alyce’s mother chose it. Her parents spent their days lying on the sand sipping wine coolers and their nights frequenting clubs.20

On one of these days, Alyce played in the shallows delightedly while her parents flirted and kissed like a pair of short-sighted high-schoolers. She was ignored for the most part. When a strong wave surged over her tiny feet, Alyce squealed and clapped her chubby baby hands.21

This drew her father's attention briefly. “Stay close, Alyce."22

Alyce was bright and understood enough to obey. But when strong winds rolled in and began buffeting the waves into little triangles, she was too curious to stay close.523

Her parents didn’t notice.24

She had only waded in up to her waist, but she was still unstable on her feet at two. A forceful wave took hold of her small, incapable body and somersaulted it through the water, landing her back on the shore. Her father scooped her up, fussing, and deposited her on his towel under the umbrella. He kept her there for the rest of the day, building sandcastles and feeding wary seagulls. Her mother was annoyed, but her father didn't care for the moment.25

Thirteen years had passed since then, and a lot had changed. Her mother left, and a new woman emerged. She was Katherine Morgan, a woman who highlighted and re-highlighted her hair until it appeared blonde, and proudly sported shirts that read “Life Is Better Blonde” and "Kiss Me, I'm Blonde." She seemed tailor-made for a reality show.26

Secretly, Alyce hated her, but for her father’s sake, she spent minimal amounts of time in her company.27

As she sat in the clearing by the creek, thinking about all this, she realized that it was a waste; all those forced intervals of time spent chatting inanely with Katherine. Katherine had used executive order against Alyce, executive order that Alyce wasn’t even aware Katherine had.
*~*
For three months, Alyce had worked almost unstoppingly to choreograph a symbolic piece for her audition at the Washington Ballet. Her interpretive dance instructor had recommended her for an audition.28

Dennis encouraged her through the entire process. He watched her rehearse. He paid the audition fee. He took her to the theatre, so she could measure how much room she had to dance in. He bought her a new leotard and tights. When she got called back, he took her to a fancy French restaurant to celebrate, canceling a casual date with Katherine. Katherine’s budding dislike for Alyce began to bloom.29

When the cast list was posted, Dennis drove Alyce to D.C. to see it in person. She was startled to see her name on the list, near the top no less, and even more startled to see “Black Swan, U.S.” beside it. He grinned when she screamed. On their way home, he stopped at The Mall and bought her a celebratory hot dog from a vendor. She didn’t eat it, of course, but it was the thought that counted.30

Everything was fine until she generously decided to share her good news with Katherine.31

Katherine stubbed her cigarette in the china saucer on the counter and twisted on her stool to face Alyce. “To be honest, I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t get in.”32

Alyce stared wordlessly at her, then looked at her father to see his response. He wasn’t listening.33

“Denny,” Katherine cooed. Alyce rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think Alyce is taking this dancing thing too seriously?”34

Dennis looked up from the Sports section of the Washington Post, eyebrow arched.35

“Dancing is not a ‘thing,’” Alyce cut in, “it’s my passion, so of course I take it seriously.”36

Katherine just shrugged and turned back to Dennis who was re-immersed in football scores. “Dennis, I think Alyce should turn down the part in Swan Lake and just focus on being a kid. And her studies.”37

“Dance is what I study,” Alyce informed her slowly.38

“See that’s my point,” Katherine said, hopping off her barstool and sliding into Dennis’s lap, smoothly taking the newspaper and placing it on the table behind her. “Her main studies should be in real school; reading, writing, and arithmetic.”39

“Those are elementary school subjects, Katherine,” Alyce said flatly. She rolled an apple around in her palm, no longer concerned that her father would even consider Katherine’s claim.40

Katherine waved the comment away, causing her cheap bangles to clank unpleasantly. “It’s all important stuff. Now, Denny, you said you wanted us to be more like a family and start making joint decisions, right?”41

Alyce stiffened. Had he really said that?42

Dennis sighed patiently. “Kit-Kat, I meant more along the lines of choosing a color to paint the living room.”43

Katherine took his chin in her hand and Alyce looked on in disbelieving disgust. “What’s more important to you, Denny? Alyce, or the living room walls?”44

“Like you really care,” she scoffed, unable to keep her mouth shut any longer.45

“I resent that statement,” Katherine remarked, not sounding resentful, but more like she was reciting a line from a movie.46

“Relax, Alyce, it won't be such a big deal. You still have your dance classes, all thirteen of them,” Dennis teased, as if it really wasn't "a big deal."47

The apple fell to the floor. It began to bruise and so did she.48

“That wasn’t a joint decision,” she notified him. ‘And Katherine is not a part of this family,’ she added in her head.49

“It was, Alyce, it was,” Katherine said, attempting to look sincere.50

Alyce shook her head. “Don’t you even talk to me,” she shot out, starting toward the back door.51

“Alyce,” Dennis implored, following her departure with his eyes. But when the door slammed behind her, he didn’t move to go after her, only kissed his girlfriend's neck and picked up the paper again.52

"See? That felt good, didn't it? I like joint decisions," Katherine decided, smiling broadly.
~*~
Once outside, Alyce stood on her back porch and listened to her heart pound like a rhythm to awaken the anger within her and send it burbling up through her until it emerged at the surface, causing small, angry tears to congregate. She bit down on a knuckle, unwilling to cry, and replayed the conversation in her head. She was almost surprised by Katherine but she had always know she had it in her. What surprised her was her father willingly playing along with Katherine’s dumb games.53

She had to go somewhere far enough away not to feel Katherine’s smugness radiating triumphantly through the back door. She had to get away and find some outlet to release her anger. But she couldn’t drive. She felt stuck, compounding her resentment.54

She headed to the clearing in the forest. It wasn't really a forest, just an abundance of trees planted by builders to separate her subdivision from the one behind it. While the houses in her neighborhood were nice-sized, split-level homes, the neighborhood behind hers harbored lavish, three- or four-level homes. The kind that always has a beautiful chandelier sparkling like diamond jewelry in the foyer.55

Seated in the clearing, hunched over to protect herself from the nipping autumn air, she visualized herself living in one of those houses with her mom. In reality, her mother was a dancer, who had left her and her father when she was offered a place in a troupe in Paris. 56

But in Alyce’s daydreams, her mother had taken her with her when she'd left. And when she had left, she had only gone to the next subdivision over.57

Alyce imagined sitting with her mother in a large, luxurious room with a high, curved ceiling. There was no furniture, only pillows strewn about in comfy little clusters. Huge windows covered two sides of the room. She sat with her mother in the center, while they talked about preparations for their next trip to Paris where they would be performing Swan Lake at the Paris Opera house. Alyce would be the serene swan-maiden, Odette and her mother would be the faux-Odette, the Black Swan.58

The tears had started to swirl again when she thought about Swan Lake. Her mother had taken her to see it, the week she left. Alyce and Dennis had been secure in their oblivion to Gina’s plans.59

Alyce keenly remembered every detail about the day.60

Her mother had taken her to buy a new dress from Macy's, a black party frock. They drove to D.C. to see the show. Gina had been more talkative than Alyce ever remembered; she chattered and told stories of her own childhood.61

During the show, Alyce remembered sitting in Gina’s lap watching the ballerina’s graceful movement under the glowing stage lights. Every so often Gina’s warm breath would tickle Alyce's ear as she explained what was going on. When it was over, Gina took her backstage and had Alyce’s playbill signed by the dancers who played Princess Odette and her lover Prince Siegfried. She still had the playbill, stored in her memory trunk along with the pink chiffon sash that she wore with her dress that day.62

In bed that night, tucked in by Gina for the first time Alyce could remember, she had thought that things were finally changing. She was getting bigger, and being better, and Gina liked her more. They would finally have the mom-daughter bond that her friends had. Two days later, Gina was gone.63

Not long after that, Alyce took her first ballet lessons. She wanted to perform in Swan Lake when she was one of the "big girls" who danced in pointe shoes and wore their hair in smooth, glossy chignons. And she secretly clung to some remote hope that Gina would be in the audience, and after the show she’d come back home and be so proud that she’d take Alyce to live with her.64

By the time she admitted this to herself, the tears pushed over the edge and slid down her cheeks. You are being ridiculously pathetic, she told herself. You’re a different girl now and you don’t need her. The tears kept coming, as if they knew the truth. She wouldn’t allow herself to sit and cry over another problem she didn't know how to change.65

She knew the only outlet she had was dancing, and she didn’t want to do it in the clearing. It would only remind her of the audition.66

So she stood, wiping her face and brushing her hands lightly on her jeans, resolving to go to the studio and dance her anger off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*******************************************************************
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WAIT: (Love story)67

Time trudged by, hope had sprung eternal.68

She sat, she stood, she reclined. Her phone stayed silent, radiating sympathy that would have stung her pride. But she was content in her denial, her faithful expectancy, even as her cell phone stayed still on the table. Her laptop was propped half against her knees, half against her stomach as she laid back on her tweed-upholstered sofa, head against the armrest, monitoring her empty infertile inbox.69

Her satin dress was crushed. Her shoes, no longer fresh and pristine due to intervals of pacing, lay on the floor next to her. Her hair was mussed from dozing. She felt her lipstick bleeding onto chin from when she'd chewed her lip while watching the clock, her eyeliner smudging at the corner from the single tear she hadn't expected.70

Her head came up slowly as the denial receded and reality dawned. She set her laptop next to her, deliberately closing the top as she stood. She went to her kitchen table, reached behind it, and unplugged the phone. She picked up her cell phone, preparing to turn it off. Then as the truth of her situation stung her again, she flung it against the wall instead. She swore, and relished the word that always made her feel better.71

She moved into her bathroom and looked into her own eyes, studying herself. Shame in her eyes, a shiny tear track on her cheek, an expensive dress wreathed in creases.72

"So this is what it looks like to be stood up."73

She let her hair down and scrubbed her face clean. She changed into her slip nightgown and padded into the kitchen. She filled a wineglass with vino, taking a sip as she stared into her backyard. The lights around the yard cast rays here and there, softly lighting the shadows on the trees and casting colors on the mist that danced off the water from the fountain.774

She went outside and laid in her hammock, taking a deeper swig of wine. She lay for a while, examining her feelings, then pushing them away, and again. A rustle was heard, then a face appeared. The joy she had anticipated feeling leapt to her face, was replaced by a string of emotions, then the anger he had expected appeared.75

"Wait," he whispered.76

She loved his face then, his eyes, and the feeling in them, the one word he whispered, the way the mist of the fountain tickled her arm, the sting of wine in her throat, the tinges of it playing with her brain, making her giddy. But she didn't want this to show. She stood, resisting the temptation to stay, to drink more wine. It would be too easy to repeat last night; a tangle of limbs and tongues and inebriated minds.77

"I did," she told him in the same quiet tones.78

He loved her face back, her eyes, and the feeling in them, the two words she whispered.79

"Wait." He started forward, stopped himself, his hand going to the back of his head and tugging on the soft, dark hair there. He looked back at her. She was watching him. Impulsively, he leaned forward and caught her lips with his.