24. Beautiful People

Beautiful People

M ara

We were all going out tonight.

All of us. Zale, me, Rhys, Rebecca, Barrett, and Willa.

I never cared about being the frumpy, chubby one in our little group of three when just us girls went out, but not with Zale there. Knowing he could not help but see the incongruity between me, our beautiful, slender friend, and my tall, painfully pretty, sister, exhumed the shame inside me.

After our amazing weekend in Stratford, I thought I’d be good for sex for a month, but by Wednesday the effects had worn off. Thursday was girls’ night at Willa’s, and their love had filled me so much that it didn’t matter that he was sleeping when I got home.

Last night Olivia stayed up until after eleven, but Zale didn’t, and when I finally climbed into bed, I was not in a good place emotionally. Which brought us to tonight, and we were going out with our beautiful friends. Where there would be lots of other women looking beautiful, and I didn’t know if I had the strength to cope tonight with being the chubby, frumpy, dull, drab, homely, outdated, sloppy, unfashionable piece of shit that was me.

I needed to pull it together. Zale and I did not often get a night out with our friends, and he’d arranged for Olivia to go to Dean’s tonight for just that reason.

I stood in front of my closet and rifled through the clothing hanging there, noting that there was no use fretting, it was all just putting lipstick on a pig no matter what I wore. I pulled out my new, black cigarette pants, a black halter blouse that buttoned between my breasts, and a cropped black jacket with white polka dots. The halter top revealed my shoulders and my clavicle, two of my better attributes. The jacket would be necessary outside, but the halter would be perfect in the heat of the bar. I put on high wedge heels, a choker necklace in a rolling wave pattern Bex made especially for me and checked myself in the mirror.

My makeup was perfect. My hair behaved. I looked as good as I could look. I took a deep breath, grabbed my coat, and went out to the car where Zale was already impatiently waiting for me .

The night out with the gang went much, much better than I expected.

As soon as we got there, Bex and Willa enveloped me in love, complimenting my outfit, my hair, my makeup, and although I found it hard to believe, their eyes did not lie. Their compliments warmed and embarrassed me in equal measure, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Rhys and Barrett stood to greet us. I’d spent a bit of time with Barrett, but I was always a little surprised by his size. If Rhys were once a baby born from a biker bitch and a Norse god, Barrett was a straight up Viking who’d traveled through time and space to the present day. The man was huge. His hair hung long to his shoulders but completely shaved on both sides. Tattoos decorated one arm, and those arms could surely snap trees. Bex and Willa both found him to be serious and intimidating, but I didn’t see it. In fact, he had the kindest eyes I’d ever seen.

He took my hand in his, his big voice rumbling up from his chest. “Mara, it’s good to see you again. You look beautiful.”

“Hi Barrett, thank you. I’m glad you could make it. Were you busy at the shelter today?”

He released my hand but not my attention. Younger than me, by at least a few years, yet he felt exactly how I always imagined an older brother would feel. Attentive but not in the least way flirtatious, protective but not overbearing. Weird that I felt protective vibes from him, he barely knew me. Perhaps he was just that type .

Rhys and Barrett locked eyes over my head and Barrett nodded, a sad half smile on his handsome, bearded face.

“What’s the matter?” I asked him, concerned.

He looked down at me, his hazel eyes warm and friendly, but I could feel the sadness behind them. “You remind me of someone I still miss.”

I leaned toward him and touched his arm, tipped my face up to look into his sad eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for your pain.” I could feel it. Deep and wide, it was a gaping hole in his soul.

“You can feel it, can’t you?”

It surprised me that he could see that. “I can.”

He smiled. “You feel, I see.”

“Ah.” I smiled but the thoughts of what he might see came hard and fast and I tried to back away.

He reached for my elbow, halting my retreat, and tipped his face down to catch my eyes. “I see only beauty.”

I searched his eyes but found no duplicity. It was the weirdest, most beautiful, asexually loving conversation I’d ever had.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He smiled and released my elbow. The whole exchange lasted less than half a minute, but I fell in love with his kindness in those thirty seconds. I remembered that conversation for the rest of my life, and I took out the memory of his words and his kindness to me whenever I needed a little extra to get through the day.

Zale came back from the bar and set three beers on the table then shook Barrett’s hand.

“You’re not actually trying to steal my wife away right in front of me?”

Barrett smiled. “She’s too good for me, I’m just admiring her from afar.”

Zale gave an exaggerated sigh. “Thank God. I wasn’t looking forward to fighting you.”

“I can tell you from experience,” Rhys laughed. “It’s like wrestling a fuckin’ grizzly.”

They laughed and sat down at our table. Zale knew Barrett much better than I did and they had developed a rapport. Zale appreciated his calm, serious demeanor, and truthfully, the man had a gift for putting people at ease.

Bex, Willa, and I didn’t take long to get wound up. Our drink orders were taken and regularly replenished by Zale, Rhys, or Barrett. We didn’t leave the table except to go to the bathroom and that we did together. This is how it often happened when we got together, the three of us. Our mutual admiration society created a cocoon of love, and our combined personalities created a hive of zaniness and laughter .

Zale leaned over me on his way to the bathroom. “You are never more beautiful than when you’re laughing.” He paused and smiled his half smile. “Or when you’re under me. That’s also a good look on you.”

Happiness bubbled up in my chest and I knew he saw it because he smiled wider and pinched my chin when he stood straight. I watched him walk away. He excused himself as he passed a group of women who were blocking the hallway to the bathrooms.

One of them brazenly looked him up and down and lay her hand on his arm. I felt the blood drain from my face. I wanted to rip her hair out, I could picture it, feel the strands in my fist.

He smiled and shook his head, then continued on his way to the bathroom. She looked at her friends and fanned her face, laughing.

I looked away but the picture of her burned into my brain. My polar opposite, tall, sleek blond hair cut in a stylish bob, lean and long-legged, her dress classy and sexy all at once.

I looked down, not wanting to see Zale pass by her again. Afraid he would look, sick that he might wish he could go there. I didn’t realize I’d dropped out of the conversation until I felt Rhys and Barrett looking at me, with concern and compassion. I smiled quickly, unwrapped my arms from around my waist, and turned away from them as well, looking out onto the dance floor.

“You want to dance, Merry?” Bex asked softly.

Willa stood up. “Well, I do. Let’s go! ”

I pushed the thoughts about Zale to the back of my mind for the moment. I couldn’t know his thoughts. I couldn’t do anything about them either. I had to trust. I had promised myself in Stratford I wouldn’t watch him talk to other women, but that one took me by surprise. We’d been doing this dance for so many years, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable like I had in the past. I remembered the woman at his work function, and I winced.

“You okay?” Willa asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go.”

On the dance floor I could let loose. I loved to dance. Willa loved to dance. Both of us danced through life, in the kitchen, in the living room, the music slipped under our skins and animated our bones, and we went happily where it led. Bex loved to dance too, but only when we were all together. We were up for about an hour, when a man about my age approached our little group.

He smiled at us easily. “Hello, I’m Gabe. I would love to buy you a drink. Will you come sit with me awhile?”

I looked at Willa, to wait for her response. Meanwhile, she was looking at me.

“Why are you looking at me?” I laughed. “You need my permission?”

Willa looked at me funny. “Mara, he’s talking to you, not me.”

“What?” The laugh fell off my face and I looked back at the man standing a tiny bit closer to me than before .

He spoke again, held out his hand. “My name is Gabe. Would you like to have a drink with me at the bar?”

He was handsome. Not as gorgeous as Zale, who was, incidentally, heading my way at that moment, but handsome just the same.

I held out my hand and he closed his around it. “I’m Mara. Thank you for asking but I’m married, and I’m here with my husband.” I indicated Zale, who was coming up right behind him, his jaw tight. I tugged my hand, and he released it.

He turned, dipped his chin once, and smiled ruefully at Zale. “Lucky man, my mistake.”

Zale nodded back to him, unsmiling. Gabe turned to look at me again and offered a sweet smile before turning and walking away. I watched him as he left, wondering what he could possibly have seen in me. Maybe he thought I’d be easy since I was the frumpy one. I lowered my gaze to the floor, embarrassed and ashamed, suddenly convinced that was true.

Zale tugged on my hand. “You okay, gorgeous?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. I felt sorry for him being stuck with me. I nodded.

I followed him back to the table and the girls came along as well. I didn’t want to be on the dance floor anymore. I felt too exposed.

We sat at our table, and with such good company and conversation, I easily shook off what happened on the dance floor. A couple more drinks served to relax me as well. Zale stayed close, his hand on my hip, or across the back of my chair playing with a wayward curl while he talked and laughed with Rhys and Barrett. He smiled at me often with his eyes, and I started to feel warm and wanted.

We got home close to one o’clock. The house quietly welcomed us home. Having it to ourselves was a treat. I couldn’t wait to be with him. I hurried through my bathroom routine and came out to find him curled on his side, close to sleep.

“I bought you something last time I went shopping, something I didn’t get a chance to wear in Stratford.”

He turned and lifted up to lean on his elbow, smiled at me appreciatively, then apologetically. “You look beautiful, Mara, but I’m wiped.”

I had felt beautiful, but his words blew that feeling away. I sat quickly on the bed beside him. To hide my thighs from his view.

“Okay,” I whispered, “no problem.”

“It’s not you, I’m just so damn tired, and it is late, gorgeous.”

“It’s fine.”

I couldn't get up without him seeing all of me, but he thought my immobility indicated that I wanted an explanation. Really I just wanted to fall through a hole in the floor until I could find a muumuu to cover me.

“Come to bed, Mara. ”

“Yup.”

I couldn’t move.

Not until he turned away. I no longer wanted to be seen.

I had to get changed to go to bed.

It took guts to put this thing on in the first place, taking it off, myself, declared a shameful rejection. Emotions swarmed my system. Embarrassment, shame, rejection, jealousy, fear, frustration, anger, and resentment raced to the finish line.

His gaze turned wary as he pushed himself up to sit against the headboard and my heart dropped.

I only wanted to hide, but if denied that option, I wanted answers to why he constantly rebuffed me.

“Are you angry with me?” I asked softly.

He looked surprised. “What? No! Of course not.”

“You’re not attracted to me anymore?”

He narrowed his eyes. “No, Mara, it’s not that either. I’m tired. Can’t a man just be tired?”

“Do you think I’m not tired? You think I’m not dealing with heavy shit all day? That doesn’t lead me to not wanting you.” I strove to keep my voice even but was not sure that I succeeded entirely.

“Well, honestly, Mara? You have an unnatural drive that no one could keep up with. ”

Shame pulled into first place. “You know it hurts when you turn me away, and you’re doing it more and more.”

“I explained all of this to you,” he snapped, his eyebrows drawn low over his eyes, his mouth tight, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

I continued my musing, still digging for answers, purposefully ignoring the wound from his jab about my unnatural drive in hopes of breaking through to discover whatever was coming between us.

“You know what I need, but you won’t give it to me. Is this love? It doesn’t feel like love, Zee, it feels like anger, it feels like resentment. What do I need to do? What do I need to say to make you forgive me?”

“Forgive you? For what?” He seemed genuinely perplexed. “For fuck’s sake, Mara! You know I love you. I’m yours.”

That was too much, too much for me to swallow.

“Mine,” I scoffed. “Mine when I have to beg?”

“You don’t have to beg!” he gaped.

I stood and backed away from him, not caring if he saw me anymore, he didn’t want me anyway, what did it matter now if seeing my ugly body further confirmed it.

I felt discarded, abandoned, and let down.

“I thought you’d be safe.” I whispered.

“I am,” he asserted .

I shook my head; I didn’t feel safe.

“I thought you’d be warm. I thought you would love me.” Usually, these thoughts echoed only inside my head. The drinks loosened my tongue.

“I do,” his voice was deep, firm.

My voice hitching, I continued, “I wanted to explore with you, roll around with you, have all the different types of sex with you.” I tapped my fists against my temples with every point I wanted to make, “drunk sex, sleepy sex, make up sex, celebration sex, laughing, happy sex, tender loving sex, fucking sex, quickie sex, marathon sex, but all you have are excuses and you have them ready all the fucking time!”

My voice rose on those last few words. I whirled around and grabbed my robe from the back of the door.

“Mara, come to bed…”

Tears, tears that had been hovering since Wednesday broke free and coursed down my face. “I can’t ever approach you, Zee. You’re not safe.” I threw my hand out toward him, scoffing. “You’re not mine. You belong only to you.”

I spun, frantically, toward the door. I wanted to throw something. I felt my fists in my hair before I caught myself. I pulled it back into a ponytail in my hand to cover what I’d been about to do and fled from our room.

He didn’t follow. He never did .

When I got like this, he didn’t want to be anywhere near me.

I didn’t blame him. I was a monster. Too needy, too clingy, too emotional, too aggressive, not calm enough, not slim enough, not pretty enough, not enough, never fucking good enough.

I locked myself in the main bathroom and slid to the floor. I rested my forehead on my bent knees, my hands clasped behind my neck, breathing through the anguish of his rejection. It would be days now before he would touch me. Days.

I remembered how I pushed him to get engaged, how badly I wanted to get married when he was content to wait. There was nothing I’d wanted more than to start our lives together. I pushed him into it. I should never have pushed.

I dug my nails into the back of my scalp when suddenly a picture of Olivia came into my head. I needed to do better. For Olivia at least.

“Ice. I need ice.”

I left the bathroom and tiptoed to the kitchen, afraid now that he’d follow me and witness my insanity. I got two cubes of ice and held them in my fists over the sink until they burned. I did not let go until the last drop of frozen water leaked through my fingers.

I did it. I could breathe. I was desperately sad, but the pain was dulled, and I could breathe. I went back to the bathroom and took off the ridiculous negligee and covered myself back up in my fluffy robe. I picked up the crumple of lace and satin, ripped the delicate material at each seam and stuffed the pieces into the garbage. I slipped into Olivia’s bed and slid in and out of sleep for the next five hours before I gave up, got up, and made coffee.

As per usual, when Zale got up, he acted as though nothing happened, and I remained unseen as always.

Zale

He wasn’t sleeping now. For fuck’s sake. He couldn’t say no to her without a fucking consequence. They’d had such a good night. They got home late. He thought he’d proven to her in Stratford how much she did it for him, but he realized it would never be enough. Every misstep, every denial, every time he failed to pay attention, he would pay.

He punched his fist into his pillow and lay back to wait for her to come back. Maybe he could smooth things over, cuddle her close, and get some sleep. He’d planned to make love to her in the morning, before picking up Olivia.

Despite his best intentions, he fell asleep within minutes and when he woke up the next morning she was already up having coffee. She didn’t look like she wanted to talk about anything. She avoided his gaze, and he didn’t mention anything.