Actions Speak Louder (4 page)

“Do anything exciting?”

“Not really.  I have a new neighbor who’s apparently going to renovate the house beside me.”

“Not Dan and Tammy,” she said, frowning.  “Their house is perfect.”

“No, no, not their home.  The other one.”

“Oh, right.  You said
new
neighbor,” she remarked, remembering the dilapidated bungalow on the other side.  “Well, hey, that’s great news, isn’t it?  It certainly won’t hurt property values.”

Marcia conceded the point with a nod.

Angie frowned.  “Has the new owner considered tearing the place down?  If I remember right, it’s a real eyesore, isn’t it?”

“It’s in pretty rough shape,” she agreed.  “But apparently it’s been in the family for some time.”

“Well, good luck with the renovations then,” she said, smiling.  “Frankly, I’d bulldoze it, but that’s me.”  Suddenly, she angled a suspicious glance her way.  “Hey, is this new neighbor a ‘he’?”

“Don’t
even
go there,” Marcia said with a sigh.  “I’m not in the market.”

“Is he cute?”

She took a deep breath and counted to three.  Her assistant manager was forever trying to fix her up with eligible men.  She wasn’t ready to date, and couldn’t begin to speculate when she might be.  Maybe never.  She found she rather liked being alone.

“Earth to Marcia,” Angie said, studying her intently.  “Where’d you go just then?  He must be cute, since you were just light years away.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” she assured her with a dismissive wave.  “I was really just thinking how happy I am living alone.”  She cocked her head to the side.  “You know what, I
am
happy being alone.  Wow, I think I’ve just had an epiphany.”

“Yeah, whatever.  But is he cute?” she persisted.

“He’s all right,” she said noncommittally. 

She wasn’t about to tell her friend that the man was drop dead gorgeous, since Angie would never drop the subject if she did.  But, the truth was, she wasn’t the least bit interested in another overtly handsome face.  And this guy was apparently about as helpless as Jay.  She was done with good looking, helpless men.  That awareness on her part didn’t rise to the level of epiphany, since five years with her ex had already cemented that particular resolve. 

“Well, what does he look like?” she persisted.  “On a scale of one to ten…”

She shrugged.  “Uh, tall, dark.  He’s maybe a … six—seven tops.”

“Above average,” she mused.  “Could be worse.”

Marcia was relieved when the bell rang, indicating a customer, and she hurried away from her assistant.  She got busy, keeping up a hectic pace until lunchtime.  She didn’t take a break until Angie’s daughter, Collette, walked into the store.    She greeted the pretty teenager, noting immediately that the girl’s face appeared crestfallen and her shoulders slumped. 

“Collette, are you okay?” she asked with concern.

Angie, who had just stepped out of the back room, said, “Oh, didn’t I tell you?  She and Chad broke up.”

“Oh, Collette, I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged.  “It’s … okay.” 

Marcia could see by her trembling lips that the teenager was devastated.  She wrapped an arm around her.  “It’s going to get better.  I promise.”

The girl looked doubtful and suddenly cried, “Oh, Marcia, what did I do wrong?  Things were going so great.  We went out on Saturday night, and then yesterday, out of the blue, he texted me that he doesn’t love me anymore.”

“He texted you!” she said, incredulous.  “He didn’t tell you in person?  Or at minimum, call you?”

She shook her head.  “No, and I’m soooo…. confused!”  She burst into tears.

Marcia led her to the paint section on the north wall of the store.  She pulled two stools from a low shelf and patted one for the girl to sit on.  She sat down on the other, her back to the front of the store.

“Honey,” she assured her, “you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

When she heard a customer come in, she was preoccupied and didn’t turn around to see who it was.  Instead, she continued to focus on the grief-stricken girl.

“But I must have done something wrong,” she insisted.  “I mean, one minute, things were great.  The next minute, he erased me from his call list.  He
said
that Marcia.  He said, ‘we’re done and I’m going to erase you.’”  She gave a shudder.  “It’s like I never existed at …
allllll
!”

Marcia patted her arm.  “Collette, why do you think you did anything wrong?  Isn’t it possible he’s the one in the wrong here?”

“But, he’s so good-looking and popular.  I mean, I was so happy when he noticed me.  I still can’t believe he picked
me
.”  She paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, but finally roused herself.  “What did I
do
?” she implored.  “Maybe I can fix it.  Maybe he’ll give me another chance.”  She gave an anguished sigh.  “
Oh, what did I do wrong
?”

Marcia sighed loudly.  Why did Collette automatically assume she’d done something wrong?  What was it about girls—well, females, in general—that prompted them to assume guilt so readily?            

 She wondered, should she give the young girl the wisdom of her thirty-two years on the planet?  Should she point out the error of her ways?  In truth, it wasn’t what Collette had
done
, but what she
hadn’t done
that Marcia suspected was the problem. 

Should
she dole out advice?

Yes.  She should
.

“Collette, you made the same mistake I made when I started dating Jay,” she declared.

“What’s that?” the girl asked with interest, blotting at her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“You picked
him
,” Marcia said crisply, leaning closer and fixing her with a penetrating gaze, “instead of the guy standing beside him.”

“What?” she asked, shaking her head in puzzlement.

“Listen, when you met him, was he alone?”

She sniffled.  “No, he was standing with his friend Drew.”

“And what is Drew like?” Marcia asked with interest.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me about Drew?” she said crisply.

Collette sniffled again.  “Well, he’s not quite as tall as Chad, and he’s a little bit on the heavy side.  He has dark hair.”  She cocked her head to the side, thinking.  “He’s uh, kind of cute, and nice.  I mean, he actually told me in school this morning how sorry he was for the way Chad treated me.  He said I didn’t deserve it.”

“There you go!”

 “I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do.  When you met Chad, Drew was standing right beside him.  Drew was Chad’s sidekick, his wingman, as they say.  Chad is the tall, blond, handsome guy who gets the girls easily and who doesn’t appreciate them, or the fact that he has that kind of power.  He doesn’t use that power for good.  He uses it to get the girl, and then to discard her like a piece of tissue.”

Collette watched her, mouth agape.  “But…”

“You know it’s true.  You overlooked Drew because you wanted the hot guy—the one who inspired envy in your friends.  The guy who upped your cool factor.”  She shook her head sadly.  “You didn’t give the good guy a second glance.”

“But…”  Her face crunched in contemplation.  “I guess you’re … right.  I’ve actually known Drew for a long time, and he really is a great guy.”

“See there!  Don’t go for the ‘it’ guy.  Go for the guy standing beside him.  I promise you, nine times out of ten, he’s the better man.”

“Okaaay,” Collette said, frowning.  “Maybe you’re right.  Maybe I was being as superficial as Chad.”

“There you go,” Marcia said, clasping her hands together.  “But don’t feel bad, honey.  You’re seventeen.  I was twenty-four when I fell for Jay, and I should have known better.  I should have gone for the guy standing beside him too.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.  Ted is sweet, devoted, and a wonderful husband to his wife.  But, I overlooked him in favor of Jay.  And look where it got me.”

Collette gave her a woeful look.  “I’m sorry, Marcia.  But I definitely see your point.”  She abruptly perked up.  “And, I plan to learn from your mistake!”

***

Ethan quietly perused an aisle nearby the paint section, only a few feet away from Marcia, who was sitting and talking to the teenager.  He had heard every word of their conversation.  He’d been intrigued by it, and wondered, was he a Chad or a Drew character?

He grimaced.  He knew exactly who he was—or had been—and he felt his shoulders slump just thinking about it.  He certainly wasn’t the sidekick type.  No, not him.  He’d always been the center of attention, and he’d liked it that way.  He had always gotten the girl, and although he wanted to think he hadn’t been as insensitive as this Chad kid they’d been talking about, he knew better.  He had definitely been a cad like Chad.

For that matter, so had his ex, Gwen.  He suddenly wondered, did Marcia’s sidekick theory apply to women?  Because if so, Gwen hadn’t fit the second fiddle role either.  It was definitely something they had in common. 

Now there was a revelation, he thought.  He and Gwen had been so much alike.  It’s probably what had drawn them together—the two up-and-comers intent on making names for themselves in their respective businesses.  Unfortunately, he had found his success a hollow victory, whereas, Gwen relished the sweetness of hers in her home décor business.

Why couldn’t he enjoy his business success the way she did? he wondered.  Why couldn’t he find pleasure in it anymore?  What was the matter with him? 

Finding no ready answer to his questions, he shook his head to clear it and glanced over at Marcia, as she finally rose from the stool. 

“I have to get back to school,” he heard the teenager say, and she dashed out of the store, with obvious pep in her step.  Clearly, Marcia’s talk had done her good. 

He was glad, and actually found himself sending the Drew kid well wishes and hoped he got the girl.  If not that particular girl, the next one.  And he hoped the girl heeded Marcia’s advice.  She was right that the guy who was usually overlooked was often the better man.

He remembered his best buddy from high school, Tim Reid.  He was definitely a good guy and had always had his back.  Tim had had the patience of a saint, and had not only stood back and let him get the girl, he had doled out good advice along the way.  He was married now to a woman he’d met soon after graduating college.  He had two little girls and was blissfully happy.   

Ethan was lost to his thoughts, and hadn’t noticed the store clerk approach him.  She was middle-aged, petite, with short dark hair.  “Anything I can help you with?” Angie inquired cheerfully.

“Oh, uh, yes,” he stammered, “I’m wondering if you have…”  He searched his brain.  What was the name of that ant-killing powder Marcia had given him?  Earlier, he’d found another colony housed in an old railroad tie at the back of his property, and was eager to annihilate that nest too.  “Is Marcia in?” he asked, knowing full well she was, and that she would know the name of the powder.

Hearing her name, Marcia glanced over and waved.  “I’m here.”  She strode over to him.  “Was there something you needed, Ethan?”

He filled her in about the ant colony, as Angie looked on, mouth agape.  After finding the powder and ringing him up, Marcia gave him a few more words of instruction and encouragement, and then headed for the backroom.  Angie found her there, stacking buckets.

“Who was
that
?” she demanded.

“Who?”

“You know who!”

“Oh, uh, that’s my new neighbor.  You saw him come into the store the other day, didn’t you?”

“No.”  She shook her head.  “I would have remembered
him
.  That’s your ‘six, maybe seven’?  Girl, you need glasses!”

Marcia rose up to her full height.  “No, I need lunch.”  With a mock cheery wave, she grabbed her purse from a hook in the back and hurried out the door. 

Deciding on lunch out, since she wasn’t feeling up to an inquisition from her friend, she detoured to a nearby sandwich shop.  It wasn’t until she’d placed an order and stood back to wait for her sandwich that she spied Ethan sitting alone in a booth.  To her surprise, he gestured her over.  She did her best to hide the sigh that escaped her lips, and then dutifully walked to his booth. 

“Care to join me?” he asked, glancing around.  “There aren’t any other open tables.”

As much as she would have preferred to get her lunch to go, she hated to be unfriendly.  Besides, it wouldn’t behoove her to alienate a paying customer, and at the rate he was making purchases at her store, and considering the condition of his house, he might be responsible for a sizeable increase in her end-of-the-month profits.

“The food’s good here,” Ethan observed, biting into the thick turkey sandwich.

Marcia nodded.  “It is.”  She glanced around, preoccupied.

Ethan dropped his sandwich onto the plate.  “I don’t mean to intrude,” he said tentatively, “but you seem worried about something.  Are you all right?”