Sassafras, Part 46

Rick


Eventually I knew we had to get up. I brushed her hair back and kissed her cheek. "Wake up, Joan. Wake up." She mumbled a little, then curled her arm back around my waist. "Come on, Joan. You have to wake up," I said and shook her shoulder a little.

She blinked a couple of times, then looked over at me. "Did I fall asleep?" she yawned and stretched, rubbing against me in several places. "Sorry."

"Keep doing that and I'll call it even." I gave a little stretch of my own, rubbing back against her.

"Keep doing that and I'll fall off the couch."

"I can't have that," I said and held her tighter. Next time she came over I was going to have to unfold the bed so we could have more room, but it was nice being so close to her.

“I like it here,” she said.

“You like the Monte Vista?”

“No, here,” she said. She slid her hand up and down my back and kissed my neck.

“I like having you here.”

“Do you think you’ll ever visit me in New York?” she asked softly.

“I can’t. I’m on probation. I can’t leave Missouri.”

“How long?”

“Four and a half years.”

“Years?”

“Yeah, years. You can always come back here any time you want.”

“Don’t hold your breath. I’m going to be so far behind at work I don’t know when I’ll ever get any time off. This is the closest thing to a vacation I’ve had in two years.”

She looked so sad, and sounded even sadder. “Then you deserve a vacation. Something with a beach and palm trees.”

“And all the Mai-tais I can drink,” she said wistfully. She was silent for a minute, just running her fingers idly around in my chest hairs. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” I kissed the top of her head. “It won’t be so bad. You’re the lucky one. You get to go back to New York. You’ll be having so much fun you’ll forget all about me in a couple of weeks. I’ll be stuck here in Mayberry with nothing to do but think about you for the next four and a half years.”

Her hand stopped moving. “What?” she asked.

“I said I’ll miss you. I’m going to be stuck here with nothing to take my mind off you.”

“No, before that. About me.”

I had to think for a minute before I remembered what I had said. “You’re lucky that you get to go back to New York. You won’t even remember me in a couple of weeks.”

Suddenly she seemed restless. She tensed up and I felt her arms and legs pushing against me, then she sat up. She sat hunched over on the edge of the couch, her hair hiding her face, muttering to herself. She grabbed her white dress up off the floor and stood up. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve got to go. Got to go. I can’t do this. I’ve got to go.”

Before I realized what was happening she was walking to the door, pulling the dress down over her head as she walked. “Joan? Joan, what are you doing?”

She didn’t even look back at me, just opened the door and started walking out. “Got to go,” was the last thing I heard before the door closed behind her. At first I was too stunned to move, then I ran to the door. “Joan! Where are you going?” I started to follow her but I had to go back inside and grab my pants. By the time I got back outside she was almost at the stairs. “Joan! Stop, Joan!” I yelled at her but it just seemed to make her go faster. I was finally able to catch up to her when she was about halfway down the stairs. When I tried to touch her she just twisted out of my hands and kept going. The only way I was finally able to get her to stop was to stand in front of her and hold my arms out so she couldn’t get past me, but she kept turning right and left, like an animal at the zoo searching for a way to escape.

“Get away from me.” She pushed me and then tried to duck under my arm.

“Joan, what are you doing?”

“I’m going home. I’ve got to go.”

“Why? What’s wrong? What did I do? Whatever it is I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter. I just have to go. I can’t do this.”

“You can’t do what? Joan, talk to me.”

“I can’t stay here. I can’t see you. I wish I never met you.” She was starting to cry, and I still didn’t have any idea what was wrong. “Just let me go.”

“No. I’m not letting you go anywhere until you talk to me. We can stand right here all night long if you want, but sooner or later you’re going to tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m not lucky,” she finally said. “If you think I’m lucky because I’m going back to New York you’re crazier than I am. You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know what it’s like. I’m not lucky. I’m lonely. All alone, all the time. I wake up alone. I go to work alone. I eat dinner alone. I go shopping alone. I keep the TV on all the time just to hear somebody talking. And you think that’s lucky? You think I’m lucky? Just because I live with a million total strangers? And you think I’m going to just forget you? Just wake up and say ‘Rick who?’ Two weeks? You think two weeks is long enough to forget you? You’re crazy! Two weeks? No, Rick. Not two weeks.”

She didn’t seem to be able to stand still. Maybe it was the way she kept waving her arms and occasionally hitting me on the chest to punctuate a point. Or the way she just kept crying and wiping her eyes and looking everywhere else but at me. Finally she gave up and let me put my arms around her, but I still couldn’t get her to stop crying. It seemed to make her cry more. “Not two weeks,” she said. “You don’t understand. I won’t forget you. Why would I even want to? Do you think you’re just some guy I met? That I don’t care if I never see you again? That I won’t miss you?

“I’m sorry,” I said when she finally wound down. “I’m so sorry, Joan. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sorry. I thought you liked New York.”

“I do. I love my job, and all the things to do in New York, but you don’t have any idea what it’s like. There’s nobody to talk to. Nobody cares what I do. Nobody misses me if I have to work late.”

“Why don’t you just stay here? You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

“Yes I do. That’s where I work.”

“You could get a job here.”

“Doing what? Waiting tables at Don’s? Running a register at the grocery store like Mom?”

“Jenny didn’t seem to mind.”

“I’m not Jenny! I don’t want to be Jenny’s shadow. I want to be me. I want somebody to want me. Just me.”

“I want you. I wanted you since the first moment I saw you. I don’t want you to leave. I never want you to leave.”

“But it won’t work. You have to stay here, and I have to go back to New York.”

“I’ll make it work, Joan. I promise.” I wished I’d never mentioned being on parole. I didn’t think she would come unglued when she found out. Hopefully I would be off parole soon. Probably not before she had to leave, but not four and a half years. I really needed to talk to Boyd. Maybe he could wrap this up soon. I wanted to check my e-mail but had to wait until I was alone, and the last thing I wanted was to be alone.

It felt like Joan had finally stopped crying. She was leaning up against me, her head still resting in her hands. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I said, lifting her chin. “Don’t worry. I swear I’ll find a way to work this out. I waited too long to find you to let you just walk out of my life now.” When I leaned over and kissed her I heard cheering and whistling. At first I thought maybe it was just a TV somewhere, but then I hear somebody yell my name. I looked over and saw Tony and all his friends whistling and clapping. They were still sitting in the parking lot in their lawn chairs, but they had turned around so they could watch the show. Great. I couldn’t wait to hear about this all day at work tomorrow.