Annabelle continued

The next day, Annabelle made it to school with all of her homework done.  It took her most of the night, because Landon’s voice kept distracting her.

She sank into her desk in History class.  Her eyes could barely stay open and Landon’s voice continued to haunt her in between the teacher’s lecture.  Mr. Parsons kept saying things that she knew she could comment on, but as soon as she would think of something it would get replaced with “Keep your mouth shut.”  One thing was certain in her head, she was glad that English was the only class she shared with Landon.

Mr. Parsons had apparently just asked an open ended question and was looking around the room for an answer.  His eyes came to Annabelle and so did the eyes of half the class. 

She opened her mouth trying to scramble for anything intelligent to say but the truth was that she had missed half of the lecture and truly had no idea what the question was that was being asked.  She looked at him for a while and slowly shook her head that she didn’t have anything to say.

He paused for a moment and passed on to the rest of the class.  Everyone else slowly turned away from her but not without a few lingering puzzled looks.

She thought, “Do I really give my opinion that often?”

She barely heard the rest of the class and grabbed her books when the bell rang.  She remained lost in her thoughts.

“Annabelle?”  The voice jolted through her.  “Annabelle?”  It was Mr. Parsons.

“Yeah?  I mean yes, sir.”

“Are you alright?”

She looked at him with her head cocked.

“You seem distracted.”

“To say the least.”

“Will you be alright?”

“I think so.  Just an off day I guess.”  She continued walking, trying to avoid further conversation.

She wandered through the hallway clutching her books to her chest and keeping her eyes on the ground.  She wondered how someone so frustrating could have turned her world so upside down.  She had never cared what Landon thought of her before, why was she starting now?  Maybe it was because he seemed to speak for everyone.  The looks she got when she didn’t give an answer were very revealing.  But why shouldn’t she talk?  She always contributed good ideas to the conversation.

She wasn’t looking forward to Physics and Jerry.  They would probably be broken off into pairs again.  She sighed as she opened the door to the classroom and saw the instructions on the board: “Since you read chapter twleve last night, break into groups of three and work the problems at the end of the chapter.” 

Annabelle noticed the substitute in her teacher’s chair.  She wore a stern countenance and an awkwardly fitting gray suit.  Normally Annabelle would have thought of the ways that this woman could be made to look better, but today she simply didn’t care.

She wandered to her desk and noticed Jerry.  The groups of three idea didn’t faze her; she knew that she would still be working with Jerry and Jerry alone. 

The bell rang and the substitute stood in front of the classroom.  Her countenance didn’t change, “You will stand when I call you and you will be put in groups that way.  I will not tolerate complaining, whining or negotiating.  I will not tolerate loud talking or constant moving.  And I certainly will not tolerate cheating.”  She seemed to take the time to stare down every single student before proceeding with her list.

Annabelle’s name was called, followed immediately by Jerry’s.  She accepted already that this would be her fate.  What she didn’t expect was that Heather’s name would be called as well.  The three of them gathered the desks together and opened their books without a word.

Annabelle opened her book and stared at the large number 12 on the page, waiting for someone else to speak.

Heather spoke first, “Don’t you have something to say, Annabelle?”

Annabelle heard the tone and the sigh that came before it.  The weight of Landon’s words sounded loudly in her ears.  “No, I don’t.  I thought we’d let Jerry start.  Jerry, do you have any idea how to solve the first question?”

Jerry’s jaw dropped slightly.  “I, uh.  I…”  He looked at Annabelle in confusion and then at Heather.

Heather looked at him, “Did you even read the chapter?”  Her tone was sharp and biting. 

Annabelle thought that this was unfair.  Sure Jerry smelled and never said much, but maybe he knew how to do everything.  Annabelle was sure she caught the edge of his last quiz when they were handed back and he managed to make an A.  Annabelle had only made a B+. 

Jerry looked at Heather with a glare, “No, I didn’t.”

Heather rolled her eyes, “Of course, you didn’t.  And the one day Annabelle decides not to talk is the day that I get put into a group with the two of you.”

Annabelle snickered.

“Why are you laughing?”  Heather clearly didn’t think it was funny.  But Annabelle did catch a slight smile from Jerry.

Annabelle turned to him, “Do you ever read the chapters?”

He grinned a little more.

“Of course not, he works with you and you do everything for him.”  Heather was only getting more upset.

“I don’t take his tests for him.”

“No?”

“Of course she doesn’t.  I’m a lot of things, including lazy, but I’m definitely not a cheater.  Who do you think you are coming into our group and messing up our work strategy?”

“You think I want to be with you two?”

“You’ve made it quite clear that you don’t.”  Jerry had just said more than Annabelle had ever heard but she was beginning to realize some things about him.

“Wait.”  Annabelle looked at Jerry, “You always volunteer to turn our assignments in, don’t you?”

He blushed a little as this recognition. 

“You fix the mistakes that I make, don’t you?”

His eyes dropped to the desk and his lips tightened.

“Huh.  You don’t read the book because you don’t have to, do you?  What’s the answer to number 1?”

“I, uh.  I don’t know.”

Heather watched the two of them closely and looked at Jerry finally, “Yes, you do.”

There was a short silence.

“If I answer, will you stop staring at me?”

Both girls nodded.

“23.”

They took five minutes between them to find that the answer was in fact 23.

Jerry looked thoroughly disappointed.

“Why are you upset?  You’re a physics genius?”  Heather looked like she had struck gold.  “You’ve been giving Annabelle the answers the whole time?”

“Of course not.  I just fix a few things here and there, nothing big.  I mean it’s partner work, isn’t it?  That’s my contribution.  I don’t always fix everything.  Otherwise how would Annabelle learn the things that I already know?  That wouldn’t do anybody any good.”  Jerry ran his hand through his frustrated with the situation.

Heather smiled.

“Don’t get any ideas, Heather.  Annabelle is my partner and I’d like to keep it that way.  As long as that’s ok with you.”  His hazel eyes looked to her for safety.

“That’s great with me.”

Heather sighed again.  “Well, we’re in a group together today so I suggest we get started.”  She was annoyed that Jerry refused to be her partner before she had even gotten the chance to ask.

They continued to work on the problems and Jerry only gave the occasional nod or shake of the head to let them know if they were on the right track.  Heather resented it, but Annabelle remained appreciative of the help in actually learning the material.  They barely finished before the bell.

Heather snapped her book closed and rushed through the door.

Annabelle looked at Jerry and no longer noticed the smell, “Thanks, for everything.”

He just smiled at her and walked out of class.

Annabelle was able to lift her head walking to the next class, even when Heather glared at her from her locker.

She knew that English was next and tried to imagine the way that things would go with Landon.  She thought about taking a longer way to class so that she could arrive right before class started, but that would give her too much anxiety.  Then she realized that Landon never walked in until right before the bell himself.  She was better to just walk there and hope that he kept to his normal routine.  She had just decided that this would be the case when she felt someone from behind her and start whispering into her ear.

“You’re smiling.”

She knew the voice because it had been haunting her for the last 23 hours.  “And why shouldn’t I be?”

“No reason.”

“If I stop smiling, it’s going to be because of you.”

“Is that so?”  His eyes shone more blue than usual.  It may have been because of the shirt he was wearing.

“You annoy me more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

He smiled, proud of himself.

“But I suppose I have to thank you.  So thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”  He winked at her.

She stopped and stood upright, “Just because I thanked you, does not mean that I will fall for your charm like every other girl.  I think I prefer physics geniuses.”

With that she proceeded into class, ready to listen to whatever her classmates might have to say.

Annabelle

            The physics class broke into pairs, again. 

Annabelle was left with Jerry, again.

It wasn’t that Annabelle didn’t like Jerry; it’s just that he smelled funny and hardly ever actually helped with the problem at hand.  There were other people that she would have preferred and for the first few weeks of the school year, she had been paired with Heather.  Heather was nice and smart enough to help with the work.  Plus she smelled like apricots, which was a tolerable smell, but hardly as nice as the rose scent that Annabelle wore daily.  At least this is what Annabelle thought.

She completed the task with a few very unhelpful tips from Jerry and left the classroom when the bell rang.

Annabelle couldn’t understand why nobody somewhat normal liked her.  She was friendly and outgoing.  She showered at least once a day if not twice, and smelled like roses as mentioned before.  There was little else that Annabelle could not comprehend; at least that’s what she thought.  And she often shared this wealth of knowledge freely.  In reality, there was little that Annabelle truly understood and it was this misunderstanding that kept her from gaining and maintaining friends. 

However, the perpetuation of this misunderstanding was not entirely Annabelle’s fault.  No one ever bothered to mention it to her.  So she wandered down the hallway saying “Hi!” to anyone who made eye contact with her, but no one extended more conversation than that.

Her next class was English.  This was her favorite, because she was well-read and always had something important to say about the subject at hand.  Today they would be discussing Pride and Prejudice.  Annabelle had read the book and enjoyed the characters portrayed there.

Ms. Newton stood in front of the class with her wispy blonde hair and long spindly fingers, “Get into your small groups and discuss the characters and how the words pride and prejudice relates to each of them.  And class, remember to listen to your neighbor.”

Annabelle was thankful that she had a better group of peers to work with in this class.  Samantha was an athlete, but at least she made consistent Bs.  Tyler was quiet and barely ever had a good thought anyway.  And Landon was a popular slacker who didn’t ever seem to read the book.  He was frustrating but somehow he could make it through class without failing.

Annabelle pulled out her crisp notebook and began to list the characters on the page as well as speaking them aloud.  “Well, first we should start with Elizabeth.  Obviously, she was proud and prejudiced as was Mr. Darcy.  She was prejudiced toward the rich and he was prejudiced toward the poor.  And they were both just too proud to even notice the positives that the other could offer to the world.  Jane, she wasn’t really either of those traits but she felt the effects of them certainly.  I really liked Jane.  She seemed so kind.  I think I have a lot in common with her.”

Landon made a noise in his throat and raised his eyebrows.

“What?  You don’t think I’m like Jane?”

Landon sat back, “No.”

“Did you even read the book?  Or did you just watch the movie?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so.”

Landon shook his head and left the group to approach the teacher.

Annabelle cringed for a minute and then noticed that he was just getting the pass to go to the restroom.  When her fears of being reprimanded dissipated she regained her monologue and proceeded to break down each of the characters for her group.

Fifteen minutes before class ended, Ms. Newton walked to the front of the classroom.  “Push your chairs back.  We’re having a pop quiz.”

Annabelle beamed.  She knew that she would know every question and get the right answer.  And Landon was just now sauntering back into the room from his exceptionally long bathroom break.

“Number one: Who was the central character of the story?”

Annabelle hastily wrote “Elizabeth Bennett” on her paper in her perfect cursive.

“Number two: Who do you believe was the most proud character in the book?”

Annabelle hastily wrote “Elizabeth Bennett” again.

“Number three: Who do you believe was the most prejudiced character in the book?”

Annabelle thought briefly and then looped the phrase “Mr. Darcy.”

“Number four: In a short paragraph, sum up your classmates ideas about what they thought.”

Annabelle hesitated and then her eyes fell to her piece of paper.  She tried desperately to think of what her group had said, but all she could think of was that Landon didn’t think that she was anything like Jane.  She still fumed from this but couldn’t think of anything else to write.  She noticed Tyler, Samantha and even Landon scribbling furiously through their paragraphs.

“Well, that certainly isn’t fair,” Annabelle thought.  “I gave them all of the answers and shared all kinds of information with them, but they didn’t bother to say anything about what they thought.  Now I’m going to fail this stupid quiz.”  She thought all of this but her page remained blank as the bell rang and everyone around her left the room.  She couldn’t move, how could she fail this quiz?  “It wasn’t a fair quiz.  I’ll just have to talk to Ms. Newton about the fact that the group just didn’t contribute anything and that it shouldn’t count.”

She slowly gathered her belongings and headed toward Ms. Newton’s desk.  All she saw was Landon leaning against the desk with a cocky grin.

“Where did Ms. Newton go?”

“Lunch.”

“I needed to talk to her about—  Stop looking at my paper Landon.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?  I get everything, except you leaving in the middle of our group discussion for no reason except that you couldn’t face me after insulting me.”

He laughed slyly.

“You don’t think I’m smart do you?”

“Oh, I know you’re smart, but you certainly aren’t good with people.  Tyler never talks and yet he groans any time we have group work.”

Annabelle stared into his baby blue eyes and squared her shoulders, even though Landon was at least a foot taller than her.

“Samantha plays three sports during the school year and is involved in at least four clubs and still manages to bring Bs out of every class, including Pre-Calc, which I believe is two years ahead of our grade.  I’d say she was pretty smart too.”

Annabelle didn’t budge.

“But she still manages to keep a pretty core group of friends around her at all times.”

Annabelle thought back to physics and Jerry.

“I did read the book, for the third time.  I find Elizabeth Bennett to be quite fascinating and if I could channel Mr. Darcy I would.”

“You’re no Mr. Darcy.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because of the blank space at the bottom of your quiz.”

Annabelle tightened her mouth.

“You’re smart, Annabelle, but not as smart as you think you are.”  Landon pulled away from the desk and headed towards the door.

“So that’s it?  You’re just going to insult me again and walk out of the door again?”

Landon grinned at her, “You want more?”

Annabelle glared at him.

“Fine.  Annabelle, I challenge you to do something you’ve never done before in your life.  Keep your mouth shut, just like you are right now.  I would suggest losing the glare too, but one step at a time.”  Landon shuffled out of the room before she could respond.

The rest of the day passed without event and Annabelle went home to complete her homework.  She had intended on emailing Ms. Newton, but forgot because she was so consumed by her thoughts and what Landon had said to her.

To be continued…

The Unfortunate Boy

Terrence was an unfortunate boy with an unfortunate destiny.  He was commissioned by the sheep living under his bed to find a rubber duck which would save their world.  For many years the boy searched and begged his mother to buy him any rubber duck he saw.  He would get home and promptly shove the newly acquired duck under the bed to join the sheep.  But every night the sheep came to him and informed him that it was not the duck that they needed.

Terrence would consistently resolve to never buy another rubber duck, but as soon as he saw the yellow plastic and smelled the rubbery smell, his resolve faded and he was inevitably shoving yet another rubber duck under his bed.

His father worried about his son, wondering what in the world a 10 year old boy could want with so many rubber ducks.  His mother worried about the fact that he shoved these seemingly important possessions under his bed.  On the eve of the boy’s tenth birthday, their discussion went as follows:

“Hannah, dear, it just isn’t normal for a boy his age to have an obsession like that.”

“Roy, you know you had obsessions when you were that age.”

“Yes, but with sports and cars.  You know, normal boy stuff.  Not ducks.  And certainly not ducks that are shoved under the bed.  I think he must have every rubber duck that could have been made.  I mean he can’t even get in or out of his bed on the side next to the window because they’ve come out of the other side of his bed.”

“I know, honey, I’ve tried to convince him to put them on the shelves we built for him but he is determined to continue shoving them under the bed.”

“I think we just need to make him get rid of them and let him cry it out for a while and then maybe eventually he’ll just get past this and we can move on.  He can decide to play a sport or something.”

“Honey, I just don’t think that’s wise.  He’ll end up in counseling and blame everything on us.  I mean, he hardly talks as it is.  The most he speaks is to ask for another rubber duck whenever he sees one.”

“Well, then maybe we tell him that he can only keep a dozen and that we must get rid of the rest.”

His mother sighed, “I hope we can laugh about all of this one day.”

The boy’s father snorted as he turned the volume up for the game to come back on.

Terrence heard the conversation from the hallway and peered around the corner to watch the game.  He hid there often enough to try and learn the sports about which his father was so excited but he couldn’t quite figure out all of the rules.  They seemed confusing and he was already confused enough by the sheep and the ducks.

Terrence returned to his room later that night to finally confront the sheep.

He closed the door to his bedroom and squatted down to see under the bed.

“Yodler.  Come out here.  I have to talk to you.”

A fluffy white sheep with a graying black nose waddled out with wide eyes, “Yes, young master?”  The sheep spoke with a British accent, which made him seem more regal.

“I can’t get you any more rubber ducks.  I have all the ones that have ever been made and I’m sick of ducks.  I’m finished.”

The sheep hung his head and his old eyes lost the little twinkle that was left.  “Terrence, we’ve been through this before.  If you refuse to get us the duck we need then we will perish forever.  All of us.”  When he said this, three more sheep emerged, one of which was a young lamb.  “But whatever you wish, young master.  We are at your mercy.”

“Yodler.  You do this every time.  You make me feel badly about this by bringing out some cute, new little lamb and I can’t take it any more.  My parents think I’m crazy and that I need therapy.  Maybe I do.  I talk to sheep every night who make me buy them rubber ducks because they’ve made me believe that it’s how I can save their kind.  But nobody else can see you, can they?” 

The lamb walked to Terrence and rubbed his soft head against the boy’s leg. 

“Get away from me, little lamb with the cute face and the big black pleading eyes.  It won’t work this time.  I’m finished doing this can’t you see?  I’ve become a strange kid.  I’m turning ten tomorrow and I don’t want to do this any more so I’m not going to.  Go back under the bed and don’t come back out ever!”

The four sheep disappeared under the bed, but not without pleading with their eyes to the boy that he might change his mind.  He refused to be moved by these looks and climbed into bed.

He slid under the sheets which were decorated with rubber ducks and looked at his clock that had a rubber duck on it.  The duck informed him that it was nearly midnight.  Terrence shut his eyes tightly from the eyes of the duck and tried very hard to sleep. 

The next morning the summer sunshine beamed through his window and he rolled over and saw the familiar clock telling him that it was 8:47.  He threw the clock against the wall and jumped out of bed.  As soon as his feet landed on the floor he tore the sheets from his bed.  He promptly carried the sheets down to his mother who was washing dishes from the breakfast she had fixed for his father before he left for work.

“Mom, I want new sheets for my birthday.  Something with sports or cars.”

His mother glided over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.  She spoke with a soothing voice, like she always did when she was about to treat him like he was younger than he actually was.  “Sweet T, you don’t have to do that.”  Her face turned to a look of concern, “You heard your father and I talking, didn’t you?”

Terrence nodded but quickly added, “But that doesn’t matter.  I’m sick of ducks and sheep!”

“Sheep?  Sweet T, you don’t have any sheep.”

Terrence dropped the sheets to the ground and ran to his bathroom, uncertain if he should finally confess to her why he had always needed the ducks in the first place.

The bathroom was also decorated with rubber ducks and he decided to ignore that while he took his shower.  He just closed his eyes and felt around for the shampoo and soap instead of facing all those blank, beady black eyes.

Once the shower was complete he ripped the shower curtain from its place and thrust it under the sink along with any other duck he found in that room.

After the hurried shower and the purge of ducks he knew he’d have to go to his room again.  He built up his courage and held his breath as he walked through the door.  Just having the sheets off of his bed helped tremendously.  He put on the first clothes he found and noticed the pile of ducks bursting out of the other side of his bed.  He shoved and shoved the ducks trying to get them under the bed and out of sight, but they kept bursting out of the other side.

He searched the room for something that could block up one side of the bed.  He found garbage bags and duct tape that he had used to make a kite for a class project before the end of the year.  He began throwing the ducks into the garbage bags.  Once one was full he shoved it under the bed.

In all, he filled nine bags full and in his effort to get them all under the bed he duct taped the bags to the legs of the bed.

Feeling triumphant and finally free of the ducks and the sheep which demanded them he yelled, “Victory!” as sweat dripped down his face and back.

His door swung open. “Sweet T, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Mom.  Actually, everything is great!  See?”  He pointed to the bed.

“Oh, T.  You didn’t have to do that.  You know that we will love you no matter what you decide to like.”

“Oh, but Mom, I did have to do that and I feel so much better about it.”

She shook her head, failing to know how to respond.

Once he relaxed from the euphoria he saw the box in his mother’s hands.  “What’s that?”

“Oh right.  It’s a birthday present from your grandmother.”  She wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

The wrapping paper was rubber ducks.  He was trying so desperately to be free of them but they followed him everywhere and on his birthday.  “I don’t want it.”

“Sweet T, it’s from your grandmother.  You need to open it.”

“You open it.  I can’t look at any more ducks.  Today or ever!”

She slowly ripped the ducks off the box, feeling sad about the sudden change in the boy who never seemed like he would outgrow his rubber ducks.  She knew her husband would be more tolerable, but she felt a piece lost in herself.  That piece that would find joy in seeing a rubber duck that she knew Terrence hadn’t acquired.  The joy of buying it, bringing it home to him and watching him shove it under the bed, which was now drowning in black instead of the mix of orange and yellow.

“Here, the paper is off.  You can open the box now, can’t you?”

“I guess.”  He took the box from her cautiously and slowly opened the lid.  Staring out of the box was a rubber duck.  Not just a normal rubber duck, but one from his grandmother’s road trip.  She enjoyed travelling around the nation in her motor home.  And this particular duck came from San Angelo, Texas.  The sign that the duck held revealed that he had come from the country’s largest sheep auction.  But that wasn’t the worst part this particular duck wore a sheep’s wool and smiled at the boy with eyes that knew he would despise his very existence.

The boy squeezed the duck slowly with anger and frustration.  The stare-down between the two was silent except for the faint gradual squeak from the wool-laden duck.

The mother watched the showdown with horror.  Her duck-loving boy was no longer duck-loving and was moving well past boyhood.

As soon as the squeak ceased to emit from the duck, a siren sounded in the neighborhood.

Terrence ran to the window of his room which faced the street and saw hysterical people run down the street chased by running water which was quickly gaining in speed and volume.

The boy ran back to his mother and grabbed her hand.  “Mom!”

Tears streamed down her face.  “I’m sorry.”

“Mom!  I don’t care about this now.  The dam broke.”

She paused, not bothering to process the words quickly.

“Mom!  Mom!  The dam broke.  We have to get out of here.”  He pulled her towards the window.  “Help me open this!”  He shoved the sheep-duck into his pocket and pulled at the latch.  The window was sticking.  “Mom!”

She felt her hands against the window and saw the water coursing down the street and felt the seeping carpet beneath her feet.  Words began to make sense again and she pulled at the window with her son.

They opened it just as the water reached the bottom of the sill.  Water began flooding the boy’s room.  She helped him onto the sill and tried to hold him up as the water pushed through the open hole. 

“Mom.  I can’t reach the roof.  What are we going to do?”  The water pushed him back into his mother’s arms.

“I really don’t know.  Maybe we wait as long as we can and then try to swim up to the roof once the water gets higher.”

He looked into her eyes with his own sadness now, “But Mom.  You don’t swim.” 

She began to cry again.  He wrapped his arms around her and they held each other tightly.  The last time he remembered hugging his mother this tightly was when she had bought him the first duck.  She remembered that too.

As he felt the water reach his shoulders he looked around his room before death overtook one or both of them.  He whispered in disbelief, “Mom.”

“Yes?”

“Mom.  Look!”

She turned from the window and the growing abyss of water to see a bed floating on top of the water that was rising in the room.  Her jaw dropped.

Terrence ran to the bed and began pulling it towards the window.  “Mom, help.”

She came to herself sooner than before and helped her son pull the bed towards the window.  “Do you think it’ll hold us?”

“We have to try, don’t we?”  He pushed it through the window, it just barely fit.  Any later and the water would have been too high.

Once the bed made it through the opening he pushed his mother onto the window sill and then onto the floating bed.  He quickly followed her through the window and was just able to make the jump before the current of the water took them away from their house.

They passed several rooftops and people floating on various objects clinging to them with every bit of strength they had.  Though the objects were many and varied, none of them seemed to be as sturdy as the bed held afloat by rubber ducks.

As they floated, Terrence pulled the duck out of his pocket and looked at the beady eyes.  They no longer looked evil and he silently apologized for being so cross.  The sheep and the ducks had saved him and his mother; no one considered him unfortunate any more.

The Blind Date

One day I’ll know what makes a great woman, but right now I’m certain that it’s not this mascara.  It keeps clumping my eyelashes, but only on the left eye.  Ugh.  I dab at the mascara with a tissue and smear it across my eyelid, where I had finally gotten the eye shadow to look somewhat close to the right eye.  Now I have to start all over again.

The door bell rings.

He can’t be here already. 

I don’t know why I let my mom talk me into this blind date.  I’ve never been attracted to men who are less intelligent than me.  I mean I try to not be arrogant, but it’s hard to talk to a guy who doesn’t understand what I’m saying and can’t think about anything but sports.  I like sports fine.  I just can’t talk about them for hours. 

Ouch!  Seriously?

I definitely just poked my eye with the mascara brush.  Dang it!  That hurts terribly.  And now I have to redo my left eye all over again.

The door bell rings again.

Now I’m frantic and can’t figure out whether I need to fix my eye first or go ahead and answer the door with a watering, red eye and mascara running down my cheek.  I reach for the tissue box but it’s completely empty.  I rip off some toilet paper and…

The door bell rings again.

Sigh.  I hold the toilet paper over my eye and run to the door in bare feet.

I fling the door open not knowing if I’ll just end up watching a movie by myself tonight or not.  Right now, I think I might prefer the loneliness.

Shoot!  He’s gorgeous.  Not too beautiful, like a movie star who is intimidatingly wonderful, but gorgeous no less.  And he has flowers.  Sunflowers, my favorite.  I try to smile, but then realize how horrible I must look when his smile fades.

“Theresa?”

I try to maintain the smile and drop the toilet paper from my eye.  “Yeah.”  I’m defeated already.  “That’s me.”

“What did you do to your eye?”

“I got attacked by a squirrel.  Just flew right through my window.”  I can’t stop myself.  I think I know how this is going to end, so I help it along in that direction anyway.  Might as well.

He starts to smile slightly out of the side of his mouth.  “A squirrel?”

“Yeah.  Just whoosh.  Right through my bathroom window.”  I even throw in an arm movement.

“That must have been terrifying.”

I start to laugh.  “Not quite as much as this is.  Actually, I just got attacked by my makeup and am trying desperately to win round 3.”

“I kind of guessed.  The black streak across your cheek looked a little less like squirrel scratchings and a little more like oil and wax.”  He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes my cheek. 

“Are you serious?”  I can’t stop myself again.

“I could have turned around five minutes ago.  I almost did when you didn’t answer after the second doorbell.”

My mouth opens again, “I’m glad you didn’t, although you may not be.”

His mouth opens to a full-faced grin.  His teeth are perfectly straight and the right shade of white.  I’m really surprised I haven’t fallen to the floor.  “This has already been the best date I’ve been on in years.  And you haven’t even invited me in yet.”

I bite my bottom lip and slap my hand against my head.  Then I shake it off, even though I still can’t quite open my left eye.  “Would you like to come in and watch TV or something while I finish getting ready?”

“Not really.”

My jaw drops.  All of my reactions have been genuine, so I guess I shouldn’t start censoring myself now.  “Oh, well.  Good night?”

“I was just thinking that you have a nice bench here on your porch and it’s a nice night, maybe we could just sit here and order a pizza.  Besides I don’t really know that you should go back in the ring against that mascara, you may very well be out of your weight class there.”

I hold his handkerchief tightly as I walk through the door and shut it behind us.