The Marriage Contract (38 page)

              I had two options. Leave now, humiliating him in front of his ‘band’, just like he’d humiliated me that day I’d found him in bed with another. I could have embarrassed him, telling him he was wasting his time, and that I had no interest in listening to his stupid song. It was the perfect moment to get my revenge on him. To make him feel almost as bad as I felt that day he’d betrayed me.

              But I couldn’t. I supposed, doing any of those things, would make me just as horrible as him. So instead, I stood there, my back facing him, as I waited for whatever he was preparing. I thought, I’d hear out his cheesy song, and then, tell him a final goodbye. That sounded fair.

              “Alright,” said James. “Everyone ready?”

              “Ready!” A chorus of voices emerged through the silence of my neighborhood. 

              But, that was impossible. I was sure I’d heard only two guys. But from the unanimous chant, it sounded more like two hundred were behind me instead. 

              “Should we tell her to turn?” James asked, his voice booming through a mike.

              “Yes!” they chanted.

              My heart thundered within my chest- goose bumps crawling up my bare arms, as I curled a hand over my middle, feeling the soft cotton of my t-shirt press against my queasy stomach.

              My words were caught in my throat, as I turned, my eyes widening at the crowd of people. Hundreds of people dressed in pale blue marching band attire, stood in a circle around the limo, layered like a stalk of dominos behind each other, smiling brightly at me.

              What the freaking hell.

              I could only gape, my eyes tracing over the drums in their hands, and the dull, transparent look in their eyes. Some looked happy to be there, smiling widely at me as though they knew me. But others held a strict, passive stare, gazing at me with their chins up and shoulders back.

              James stood at the center, standing in front of the limo, a sleek electric blue guitar held in his arms. Two men stood on either side of him, one dressed in a grey, tattered t-shirt with a few holes in them. The man’s wild blond locks were held in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, as he strummed a beat along with James. The other man, on James’s right, was a head shorter than him, holding an acoustic brown guitar, his olive skin appearing tanner under the sun. I pressed a hand against my chest, feeling my pulse begin to pound, as James took a step towards the mike before him, shooting me a nervous grin.

              “This isn’t happening,” I whispered, staring wide-eyed at James. “Oh, God, please let this be a nightmare. It’s alright Dorothy, you’re most likely dreaming. Now…wake up! Wake up damnit!”

              I clenched my hands by my sides, closing my eyes, and hoping that in any moment, I’d wake. Everything, every moment I’d spent with James and Richard, would be nothing but a fabrication of my mind- an illusion.

              But as the chorus of drums began to start, piercing through my ears, my eyes slowly fluttered open.

              “Dorothy.” James’s voice boomed over the mike- his gaze sharp, as he stared at me with a kind of desperate longing. “This one’s for you.”

              Only a day ago, I’d sworn that if I ever did see James again, I’d pretend as if I never met him. I’d say hello, in the politest way possible, with a curt nod, and bland gaze, leaving him standing there wondering what the hell was wrong. I wanted him to know that even if he somehow managed to pluck every star in space, placing it by my soles of my feet; I’d still kick those stars away, turn, and make my rightful exit. I wouldn’t give him the time of day to get me back, no matter what he tried.

              Yet, here he was, standing before me, with a marching band, and two tired looking musicians who looked like they hadn’t had a gig in ages.

              I stood there, my palms beginning to sweat by my sides- as I stared at him, not quite believing he was actually there.

              The door behind me swung open, and I didn’t have to turn to recognize Charlene and April’s footsteps approaching me.

              “Holy mother of cows!” exclaimed Charlene. “It’s like a live concert here!”

              I couldn’t hear April’s reply, for James cleared his throat, tapping the mike twice. The sun beat down on his apricot skin, as tiny beads of sweat trickled down his temple, soaking into the color of his white polo.

              “Alright,” he said. “Here I go.”

              I crossed my arms over my chest, expecting him to sing some cheesy song in a futile attempt to charm me. But when the two guitarists by his side began to play their tune, and the marching band marched around the car, playing their trumpets, and throwing their batons in the air- for a moment, I was dazed.

              “I’ve always had it all,” he sang. “I’ve been the guy that girls dream of, someone to give them what they could never have. But never once, was anyone ever concerned with giving me what I never had. They all assumed I was happy. They assumed that I woke on a throne like bed, spending days lounging in luxury, and nights- flying over the lights of Paris, dining with only the finest. If only they knew that all I did was waste my time, with people that weren’t worth my time, nor I worth theirs. And then, one day, you happened. You slapped me over the face, told me that I wasn’t anything special, and that in fact, you didn’t care about how much money I was worth. Somehow, without me knowing, you’d crawled into that worm sized space in my heart that I guarded with my life. You got in there, without permission, and made me feel like I mattered. But I was afraid, I was a coward, and I couldn’t let down that wall I’d worked so hard to build. So I hurt you, I pushed you away, only to realize, what a big mistake I’d made. I need you to know, that without you, life is a bag of air- meaningless. I need you, and I crave you, and I can’t stand a day without you. So what I’m trying to say through this awful song is…please…come home.”

              There was a look of pleading in his eyes, as he held the mike with quivering hands, pressing it under his mouth. He breathed deeply- his lips pressed in a line- staring at me with an apprehensive gaze.

              April approached me, giving my shoulder a shake.

              I gasped, stirring out of my thoughts, before turning my head to her.

              “Answer him,” she whispered. “I can’t tell you what to say, but I know you’ll do the right thing.”

              The right thing?

At that moment, I wasn’t even sure what that meant. My eyes traced over the neighborhood, as families stood on their front porch, staring at the fiasco. They smiled, and clapped, and cheered- some even whistling.  

“Give him a chance!” An elderly woman from across the street waved her wooden cane, her grey locks falling over her shoulder in messy waves.

              “Oh my god, that’s James Bellevue!” A teenager, whose face I couldn’t find in the crowd- screeched loudly. “He’s so freaking cute!”

              “Kids these days,” a man said, standing at the center of the crowd. His dark crew cut was something out of a 1998 army film, as he stood tall, his navy plaid shirt- tight against his beer bellied gut.

“All this nonsense just to get a woman back,” he continued. “Back in my days, we just sent letters—“

              “Letters? Bob, you never sent me a letter! Which girl was it? Who did you send a letter to?”

              I smiled, as Bob’s wife scowled at him, before turning and stomping away. Her petite frame disappeared against the fog of the crowd, her blond locks billowing against the back of her yellow sun dress.

              “I was kidding, Linda!” he called, rushing after her.

              “Is your girl gonna say anything?” the guitarist to James’s right asked. “She’s so serious. Man, you must have screwed up big time.”

              I sighed, taking a step back.

              “My answer is no.” I said this slowly, clearly, and loud enough for James to hear through the stir of the crowd.

              “No?” someone questioned.

              “Wow, what a bitch.”

              “Don’t curse, Agatha!”

              “Is she for real? I would give my left arm if a guy sang me a love song in a crowd like this.”

              “She’s just stuck up. I bet she’s cheating on him, anyway.”

              “Maybe he hurt her really badly. We shouldn’t judge.”

              Murmurs went on, as I stared at the shell shocked James. My insides were frozen, like snow had formed over it, permanently plastering the soft side I had for him. But as I looked at him- I noticed his chin begin to tremble, his large almond eyes, going red.

              He was about to cry, and I didn’t care.

              “Well that’s all folks,” I said. “You all can go back now. The shows over. Sorry you had to waste your time, and money, James. Bye.”

              “Dory, you’re being mean!” Charlene scolded, as I walked past her and April.

              As I placed my hand over the handle to the gate, April’s warm palm curved over my wrist, momentarily stopping me.

              “He loves you,” April whispered. “Just…just look at him. He really regrets hurting you and—“

              “April please, just stop it okay?” I snapped. “I’m not forgiving him. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever! I just…I’m sorry…I have to go. Just do me a favor…make sure he leaves. Can you do that for me? As a friend?”

              She sighed. “Yeah, yeah I can.”

              “Thanks. I’m glad I can count on you.”

              She nodded, giving me a sad smile.

              As I walked through the front yard, towards the open door, I ignored the roaring sounds of the crowd, and the music that began to play again. The melody was familiar, but I couldn’t quite recognize it. When I reached the door, a part of me wondered what James was thinking, standing there in front of that mike. I didn’t know why, but a small voice inside me pondered on the thought of him convincing me to go back to New York.

              When I walked through the door, slamming it behind me, I collapsed on the ground, my heart clenched so tightly against my chest- I felt all the oxygen being swept away from my lungs. Without anyone knowing, I hugged my knees on the ground, and finally let the tears I’d been holding in, drop. It had taken every ounce of strength I had in me to not lunge at him, not to make myself look like a total fool. I was tired of being a fool. 

**

              I rested with my back pressed against the bed, white earphones tucked into both holes, as the iPod from my high school days, played my favorite tunes. Gwen Stephanie’s poppy voice twirled across the sound system of my mind- my eyes stinging from the crying I’d done about fifteen minutes ago.

              I could still hear the faint sounds of the marching band outside my open window, as the sunlight streamed through, splashing over my naked arms.

             
CRASH!

              The sound of glass shattering against the wall perked my ears- my eyes widening as I whipped my head to side, shooting up from the bed.

              “What—what are you doing? Get out!” I stood, my heart trembling, as James took slow steps towards me.

              My gaze narrowed on his left arm, which was sliced with a shard of glass. For a millisecond, I noticed the glass trophy that I’d won during a middle school talent show, shattered to pieces against the floor.

              “Your…your hand,” I whispered. “You’re bleeding.”

              James glanced at the thin piece of glass stuck to the edge of his arm, then back at me- a look of anxiety hanging over his gaze.

              “Why do you care?” His deep voice trembled, as he took closer steps towards me.

              I shook my head, taking a few steps slowly back, my hands beginning to shake against my sides.

              “I don’t,” I replied. “But, I can’t stand seeing another person in pain—“

              “I’m not another person!” he yelled. “I’m…I’m not. I’m your person. I’m yours.”

              I didn’t know what to say, for the pain in my heart formed once more, threatening to make those wretched tears return.

              My lips were chapped- my hair was tangled in a lopsided pony tail, with my t-shirt wrinkled all over. But as I looked at him, I realized, he was also a mess. The once silky locks from a half hour ago, was shaggy, thrown callously over his eyes. His pure white shirt, was sprinkled with dirt, as was his cheek.

              I took even steps towards him, swallowing a breath I didn’t know I was holding, before lifting my head towards him.

              “Sit,” I said.

              His brows furrowed. “What?”

              “Trust me.”

              Without another word, he walked backwards till he reached my bed, and sat. He stared at me with a miserable longing, and when I turned, I could feel his eyes penetrate through my body, burning me everywhere.

              I was nervous. Why the hell was I nervous?