Unapologetically Me Page 2

  fancy. At the time, I was proud of them, but now they were just another reminder that everything was an act with him.

  Kitchen: Sand-blast khaki

  I walked back to the dining room. Turning, I noticed that some of the pictures on the walls were missing. He had bought them at some antique shop in town, and I hated them. I never told him, because he wouldn’t understand they weren’t really art. I was glad they were gone, and knew I would replace them something I loved more. Beside the words dining room, I added that I needed something for the walls other than new paint. I liked the idea of a new color, but I liked conti‐ nuity too, so I decided that my dining room should match.

  Walking into the foyer from the kitchen, I noted that it and the hallway should have the same colors as well. Having a flow from that small open space to the other rooms would help make it feel more homey that the flat white walls. My living room, reminded of the old sitting rooms from the past. My furniture faced the fireplace for warmth. I wanted that space to be welcoming. Whatever color I decided on would need to convey that feeling. I liked rich, warm colors, but I liked natural colors as well.

  Heading up the steps, I made my way to each of the rooms, including what Hank had delineated as his office. It was empty, as I expected. I could make it an art room or a crafts room. Something, but I would make it a completely Owlynn room.

  By the end, I had selected colors that suited me, including an onyx color for my bedroom. Onyx was a color that made me feel happy whenever I saw it. It was a color that Hank would have seen as direct defiance to his choices, the complete opposite of the flat white walls he had chosen. It gave me great joy to know he would have hated it.

  From the main floor, I heard the song that was playing the night Hank first said he loved me. The memories flooded me, and I felt pain throughout my entire being. I laid down on my floor, feet up on the wall, and let the lyrics wash over me. Tears fell freely. I was sad, and I told myself it was okay to be sad. It was if I was mourning a death, not just the death of a relationship but of the old life I had had. So, for the moment, I allowed myself the tears.

  WE WERE CLOSE TO THE STAGE. HE HAD PUSHED HIS WAY THROUGH THE

  crowds of people, so I could see my favorite band just a few feet away. Each thump of a note played reverberated in me with the amps being on full blast, you had to face someone to communicate. The place was full, and I had just turned to face him to see what he thought of the song playing.

  “Owlynn, I love you.” Hank was grinning ear to ear. He was screaming, it took all I had to hear his words, and I wasn’t sure I heard them right. I pointed to my ear, indicating I couldn’t hear him over the band, so he grabbed my hand. He drew the letter “I”, then a heart, and then the letter “U”. My heart stilled, and I couldn’t breathe. This man, standing in front of me, with twinkling green eyes and a goofy grin loved me. I didn’t even say it back, I just threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. I could feel his laughter rumble in his chest as he kissed me back.

  I WAS YOUNG. I WANTED THE FAIRYTALE ENDING, AND HANK WAS MY

  Prince Charming. At nineteen, he was everything a little girl dreamed of and more. He was in college, headed toward a career in business with his dad. He was strikingly handsome and so outgoing and funny. It didn’t take much for me to fall quickly. He was the first to say I love you, though, and shortly after those words were said, we moved in together. At first, it was this tiny apartment. He told me that we would get married after he graduated, and then it was after he made partner, and then…and then. There was always some other big hurdle he needed to jump before we could marry. He was six years older than me, and his mother would always say he needed to get everything ready for us. She would then smile and pat my face like I was a good girl for being patient. I had quit college when we moved in together. He was already making enough to support us without me working. He wanted me to socialize with the other wives in his corporation. He was training me to be the perfect wife, involved in the charities and the teas. I was all too happy because he loved me. I

  never felt like I had fit, but I had found a group of friends that I thought were true and I had come to have fun with meetings and planning events. Hank was my best friend; I would come home to him at night excited to tell him about my day. At first, he was good to me, listening to me chatter about this new lifestyle I was living, but he grew tired quickly and would tell me to wait. He got busier and busier and more distant with each passing day.

  The song ended, and the next one began, and yet I stayed there. I needed a hobby, and I needed to get up off this floor. I couldn’t let him ever think he had gotten the best of me. I let the second song play through then rolled over, pulled myself to my feet, and made my way downstairs. I ordered pizza, a rare treat in this house. Instead of a pretty dress and fancy hair I was supposed to have on tonight, I was wearing old worn-out sweatpants, a tank top, and a messy bun. I pulled up the list of movies on TV and allowed fiction to hurt my emotions instead of reality. At some point, I fell asleep. My phone buzzing beside my head woke me from the nap, and I scrambled to find it.

  “Hello?” My voice sounded hoarse.

  “Owlynn… are you okay?” The voice on the other end sounded worried, and familiar. Hank.

  “Yes, why are you calling?” Annoyance overtook the hoarseness.

  He left, so why was he calling?

  “Well, Harriet told Beau about your lunch today, and he called me. I didn’t mean for you to have a breakdown. I can send someone to help, or I can help pay if you want to go inpatient.” His words seemed sincere.

  I laughed, hard, out loud. “Are you serious right now? Why on God’s Green Earth would you think I had a breakdown? Because I got mad and yelled? Hank, please. You left. I am no longer your concern, and I am fine. Unless there is business needing to be discussed, do not contact me again.”

  “You don’t have to be rude.” He had the audacity to sound hurt. “Hank, good bye.” I threw the phone to the other side of the couch,

  but it really wasn’t as satisfying as slamming down a phone on the hook used to be.

  It was a relief to hang up on him. Maybe it was childish, but I felt like I had gotten the last word. Whatever possessed that man to think I needed his assistance with anything was beyond me. Even if I hadn’t worked outside of the home these last ten years, I was not helpless by any means. I had managed our finances, planned his company’s charity events for the last three years with little help, and had been on several committees for other charities. I had half a mind to call Harriet and tell her a few things, but that would only fuel the fire more. Instead, I dragged myself off the couch and went upstairs to my room. Selecting my playlist for sleep, I lay down. Closing my eyes, I let the lyrics take over, and before long, I was out.

  CHAPTER 3

  iguring out what someone who works at a coffee shop should wear was more taxing than the earlier morning

  alarm that went off. Sleep had somehow found me last night, but even still I felt exhausted. Finally, I decided on khakis and a gray polo. I twisted the sides of my hair before pulling the remaining sections into a low pony tail.

  The drive over found little traffic. It wasn’t even light out yet, and my yawns were continuous. I parked in the back of the shop, noting that there was only one other vehicle there. I made my way to the front just as Amber was coming to let me in.

  “Good morning, you ready to learn how to be a barista?” She was very peppy for this early in the morning.

  “Yes.” I tried to copy her tone but failed.

  “You look like you could use some coffee. You have to be peppier than that for when the customers start rolling in.” She smiled.

  “Coffee… my life elixir,” I said, practically humming the words.

  Amber laughed. “Come on, follow me. Lesson one will be how to make basic coffee.”

  We headed behind the counter, where the numerous machines all looking like alien equipment. She gave simple step-by-step instruc‐


  tions, and after three tries, I was able to successfully able to make a simple cup of coffee. After an hour, I could make teas as well. I had a feeling she was going to fire me soon. I spent the last hour before the doors opened mastering coffee, tea, and cappuccinos.

  “Owlynn, it’s just the two of us today.” She had a serious tone, while frantically gathering up the cups and lids from the storage room “I know you’re new, and you may get flustered, but I really think you’re going to do well here. If you feel like you’re in over your head, let me know. I’ll help, but I have absolute confidence in you.” She ended with a smile and a thumbs up.

  “Well, that makes one of us.” My disdainful reply made her giggled. Before the doors were all the way open, people were pushing through to get in line. The morning passed quickly, and I felt like a chicken running around with my head chopped off. I got flustered a few times, but Amber kept her word and jumped in to help me. More times than I could count, I received strange looks from the people who came in who I’m sure thought I looked a lot like Owlynn, not realizing it was me. If I had had time to think about it, it might have been funny, but we were too busy to worry about what they were

  thinking.

  There was a lull at lunch, and I was able to take a break. I stayed close in case Amber needed me, but I was thankful to sit for even just a minute.

  “You doing okay?” she asked, leaning against the back counter so we could talk while still having a full view of the door. She made this look easy. She could have done this job without me. I think she was just humoring me with how much I was helping her.

  “Yes. I’m not new to hard work. I’m just new to it actually being a job and not a volunteer sort of thing.”

  “Volunteer work?”

  “Yes, my ex was a partner in his company. We held charity events that I coordinated, but I haven’t ever really had a real job before now.”

  “Well, honestly, you’ve impressed me. You still need some training, obviously, but you’ve kept up well. You’re a quick learner. I’m thankful you were here to help today.”

  I smiled. I wasn’t used to praise that wasn’t given in expectation of something. I watched her turn to the door. She was petite and had her mousy brown hair pulled into a messy bun. She looked relaxed and confident. Her attire was obviously a uniform, but I could tell she was comfortable in that style of clothes. I wondered about her age. She stated she was a manger, so she had to be older than she appeared. She had grace about her, even with her pep and cheer‐ fulness.

  My break ended. I was back up front, making tea for a customer. When I turned around, there, standing at the counter, was Hank. His eyes popped open, and his jaw dropped. He stared at me, speechless. The tension and silence grew louder as I moved about the area, giving the tea to the customer waiting and ignoring him.

  “Sir, can I take your order?” Amber asked for the third time.

  “Yes… sorry, excuse me for a second. Owlynn, what on earth are you doing here?”

  “Working. Now, if you’re going to order, do so. If not, leave, we have other customers.”

  He eyed me as he gave Amber the order. “Two coffees. One plain, one with vanilla and a shot of espresso.”

  I was quick to make each for him. I was careful to make the one with coffee and espresso, certain it was for his new girlfriend. As I handed him each cup, I raised my gaze level to his and smiled.

  “Have a nice day, Hank. I hope she enjoys the coffee,” I said, emphasizing the word she.

  He grimaced and turned quickly to leave. Amber stared at me questioningly, but I shrugged it off. I was hoping that she wouldn’t ask too many questions, at least until we were closed. I didn’t want to have to explain with so many listening ears. I was just glad he didn’t make the situation worse. Our shift ended a little after five, when the evening girls came in. I was exhausted. We moved to the back room to gather our belongings. With a sigh, I sat down to dig for my keys when Amber came over and gave me a knowing look.

  “So, am I invited to return to work?” I asked, trying to make my question seem lighthearted.

  “Yes, absolutely. But first, can you explain that whole situation?” She used exaggerated hand movements while talking.

  “That, well… that is my ex. A very, very recent ex. The second cup of coffee is for the woman he left me for, I suppose.”

  “Ah… well, I think you handled it well. You handled this whole day well. Are you sure you’ve never worked before?” she teased.

  “I’ve worked very hard, just never in a paying job. Although, by the payment I received from the split, I suppose the last ten years was a job.” I rolled my eyes.

  “You sound like you need a girls’ night.”

  “I can say I have no clue if I do or not. I’ve had ladies’ luncheons, ladies’ teas, and ladies’ bazaars, but no girls’ night.”

  “Not even before ex-dummy?”

  I shook my head. As I stood, I felt an ache throughout my body. I realized that it felt good to feel tired. I needed to be tired to keep from overthinking things. I was already able to see that this ending might be the best for a new beginning, but that didn’t take away my memo‐ ries from filling me. The funny thing about hearts and brains, they didn’t always agree. Somehow the heart could argue over the good while the brain would find the bad. The brain didn’t want to feel the pain that the heart was imposing, so being tired was a way to negate the arguments.

  “Then, it is settled. We will go out soon. I’ll introduce you to my friends. We can have a good time, just a bunch of friends celebrating.”

  I snorted at the word celebrating. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. What time shall I be in tomorrow? And when will I meet these friends?”

  “Same time in the morning, and I’ll have them stop by on our lunch. They are waitresses and usually work in the evenings.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “What are you doing this evening?” Amber asked as we headed to our cars.

  “Wallowing in the aloneness of my house?” “You need a pet.” She grinned.

  “I need a hobby and a way to avoid the silence.”

  “There are levels of silence. Two good and two bad. You need to

  work your way through until you know exactly what it is like to enjoy the silence.”

  Her words stopped me. I turned toward her questioningly. “Four levels of silence? I am intrigued.”

  “It’s just my theory, but…” She paused seeming to debate internally over her next words. “Would you like to grab dinner, and I can explain more?”

  “If dinner can be pizza at my house, and pajamas, then absolutely.” “Deal. It’s a long theory, and my stomach is starting to audibly

  growl. I’m surprised you can’t hear it from there.” She laughed. “Text me your address, and I’ll meet you there after I go home and shower.”

  “Good deal. See you in a bit. I can order the pizza and hopefully it’ll be there when you get there.” I sent the text quickly before climbing in my car and heading home.

  In my mind, I tried to decide what I thought the four levels of silence would be. I could only come up with one, deafening silence. Utterly and completely deafening. Like the kind that comes from asking a question and getting no answer. Sometimes no answer is an answer, but sometimes the silence is overwhelming. When Hank broke up with me and left, I asked him how long had it been since he had stopped loving me.

  “Owlynn…” he said with a look of petulance for even having to have heard the question.

  He simply spoke my name and left. The tone of his voice left no

  question. It had been a long time; that’s what the silence said.

  I was lost in my thoughts as I drove to my house. In the garage, I looked around. I was always one for organization and Hank’s leaving left big holes in the system I had created. Silence and being alone wasn’t new to me, but it was different this time. The thought of that silence brought back the theory, and I decided maybe I could see the relevance to
the theory.

  Inside, I called and placed our pizza order. I laughed at myself for having eaten pizza two nights in a row, when before it would be unheard of to eat pizza two times in a month. It was below us to order in, and pizza was a lazy way out. I showered and changed quickly into

  the agreed upon attire and went down in the living room to await the pizza and Amber’s arrival.

  The bell rang, and I jumped quickly, making sure to grab my cash. Opening the door, I found a very wide-eyed Amber staring at the door. The pizza guy was bounding up the steps behind her. I gave her a rather odd look, smirking as I paid the young man for his delivery.

  “Are you going to stare the whole night or come in?”

  “Coming in, but holy crap, you didn’t say you lived in a mansion, Owl.”

  “Owl?” I arched my brow. “I should hate that nickname, I suppose, but it fits just as well as any of the others I’ve been called. Also, this is not a mansion, just an older home. My grandmother willed it to me upon her passing.”