Providence Read online

Page 2

 

  “She’s…sad. ”

  “How are you?”

  “The same,” I sighed. My conclusive tone seemed to relax Beth, and while I changed into my pajamas I noticed her breathing even out.

  I sat on my bed and pul ed myself against the pil ows. My thoughts effortlessly moved toward the last hour. Jared’s grin kept my mind occupied for awhile, but before long my thoughts brought me back to the funeral. I rol ed onto my side and curled into a bal , trying to cry quietly. Relief final y replaced the crushing grief as I slipped out of consciousness.

  I turned to the side and blinked my eyes, noting the large, red numbers on the clock. Five A. M. had come quickly. My eyes felt swol en and scratchy.

  It was then that I realized my dreams had been cruel. There would be no miracles, and my father was stil gone.

  The finale of the worst experience of my life hadn’t ended with what was supposed to be my closure.

  I clambered from my bed and opened my laptop, determined to finish my term paper by eight. The screen lit up, and I peered over at Beth, her head buried under her pil ow. My fingers tapped out the next cross-reference and soon began a muted symphony of clicking against the keyboard.

  The paragraphs formed swiftly and I finished by a quarter after seven. With a click of the mouse, the printer lurched and buzzed with its new task. I looked over at Beth, knowing a newspaper press wouldn’t wake her. I gathered my toiletries to make my daily commute down the hal to the showers.

  Red-faced and sufficiently exfoliated, I tightened my robe and walked down the hal . While brushing my teeth over the quaint sink in our room, Beth sat up in bed and stretched out her arms. Her chin-length auburn hair was smashed in some places, and stuck out in others.

  “Good morning,” she chirped. Then reality set in. “Oh…I mean…. ”

  “It’s okay, Beth. It is a nice morning. ” Glancing out the window, I noticed the sky was looking bleaker from the onset, but I wasn’t going to mention that.

  Beth smiled and began making her bed, setting her stuffed animals haphazardly in front of her fril y pil ow.

  “Are you going to the game Saturday?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. ”

  She usual y invited me to go, and at times insisted I go, always in her cheery, pleasant voice. Beth hailed from the south. She worked hard and had been awarded numerous scholarships to make her escape from the smal Oklahoma town she cal ed home. Her side of the room was covered in trophies, sashes and crowns from the numerous pageants she’d entered and won. She wasn’t the typical beauty queen. Although beautiful, she seemed very introverted—a trait she was trying desperately to break away from. She explained to me the day we moved in that the pageants were a necessary evil for tuition.

  “Wel , I’l give you a break this week if you decide to opt out. I’d understand with finals and…everything else,” she conceded without looking in my direction.

  “I appreciate it. ”

  I pul ed my hair back into a smal burst of ponytail at the nape of my neck, looking like a bouquet of wheat shooting out from the back of my head. I sighed at my closet and gave myself a pep talk before dressing in the inevitable layers: one after another; bra, tank top, undershirt, sweater, socks, jeans, boots, coat—and not always in that order.

  With my backpack bursting at the seams, I pul ed up the handle and angled the bag onto its wheels.

  “I’m going early for coffee. ”

  Beth smiled as she booted up her laptop. “Good luck getting that thing across the ice. ”

  I stepped out of the elevator into the hal way wondering if Beth was right about the weather. I held my breath and pushed the door open, waiting for the freezing temperature to sting my face. The wind blew the heavy glass door against me, working against the already pitiful pressure I had managed with one hand. Using my arm and shoulder, I forced the door open and gasped at the frigid burst of air burning my face.

  I stumbled into the dining hal the student populace affectionately and appropriately dubbed “The Ratty”, and brushed off my coat. Shuffling across the muted tile floor, I made a bee-line for the coffee pot. Dark, brown liquid created the steam that would help me function that early in the morning.

  Out of habit, I reached for my favorite hazelnut creamer and two packets of Splenda.

  “That stuff is death in a package, you know,” Kim said from behind me.

  “You sound like my mother,” I grumbled.

  “I’m surprised you came today. Sucks that your dad died during finals. ”

  Kim was never one for holding back or mincing words. I usual y found it very refreshing, but I hadn’t had time to brace myself before the words left her lips, and my ribs wrenched in response.

  “Yeah. ”

  Kim watched me for a moment, and then shoved a blueberry corn muffin at my face.

  “Breakfast?”

  I shook my head, uncrossing my eyes from looking at the muffin. “No, thanks. I need to get to class. ”

  “I’l walk with you,” she said, pul ing the muffin back.

  Kim pul ed a faded, red plaid hunter’s cap complete with ear covers over her short brown hair. If I thought I could laugh, I would have.

  “Oh, Kim,” I said, attempting to make my voice sound cautious.

  “What?” she asked, stopping in her tracks.

  “Nothing,” I shook my head, deciding to leave it alone.

  If any hat could be made for Kim, it was the ridiculous atrocity she’d placed on her head. Kim was above average in height, a head tal er than my five feet, seven inches. Her short, caramel- colored hair framed her face in care free waves. Crazy and unpredictable as she was, people were drawn to her. I knew we would be friends the moment I met her in the hal way of Andrews; I couldn’t fathom having someone more interesting in my life.

  Kim walked with me across campus to class, keeping my mind from more somber thoughts by regaling me with her most recent week of fantastic mishaps and blunders. She never failed to entertain me with her unbridled honesty and lack of brain-to-mouth filter.

  Once in class, Kim leaned toward me and kept her voice low. “So, the funeral…. ”

  I squirmed in my seat. “I. . . don’t real y want to…. ”

  “Oh, right. Yeah. So…it was yesterday?” Unlike Beth, Kim didn’t avoid unpleasantness. At times she seemed to slam face first into it with a smile on her face.

  “Yes,” I sighed. “It was very nice. ”

  “Very nice,” Kim echoed, nodding. “I tried to cal you last night. You didn’t answer. ”

  “I didn’t get in until late. I missed the last bus and ended up taking a cab. ”

  Kim eyed me with disbelief. “The last bus? I didn’t know public transportation had a curfew. ” I considered that for a moment before she continued.

  “Why didn’t you drive? Your mother picked you up, didn’t she?”

  “I ended up sharing a cab. ”

  “With your mom?”

  “No, Kim. Not with my mom,” I deadpanned. “I met a man at the bus stop. We both missed the bus. ” I didn’t confess that I’d had a momentary conscious black out and let the bus pul away.

  “You shared a cab with some random guy at the bus stop? Interesting. ”

  “Not everyone’s stories end with a dramatic punch line like yours. We just shared a cab,” I said, trying to make my answer sound final.

  “Was he old?”

  I rol ed my eyes. “No. ”

  “Ugly?”

  “No, Kim. He was nice. ”

  “I didn’t ask if he was nice. So…he was cute, young…and?”

  “Jack’s funeral was yesterday, Kim. I was a mess,” I said, feeling my eyebrows pul together.

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” I asked, exasperated.

  “Cal your dad ‘Jack’? I thought you were close?”

  “We are. We were. I don’t know…because that’s his name?” K
im stared at me, unimpressed with my answer. I began again, “It’s always felt weird cal ing him Dad to other people. Just like I wouldn’t cal a boyfriend ‘Honey’ to you. It’s just…personal. ”

  “That’s weird, Nina. ”

  “Wel , you are the authority on weird. ”

  Kim nodded, unaffected by my insult. “So who was the mystery guy? Does he go here?”

  “I don’t think so. His stop was after mine,” I murmured, rol ing my pen between my fingers.

  Because my stop was first, I was curious if he resided near the university, and if I might run into him again. I cringed at the thought of that prospect.

  What would I possibly say to him? “Hi, Jared. Remember me? The Alice Cooper look-alike that you shared an awkward cab ride with for twenty minutes?”

  “What’s with the face?” Kim’s expression screwed in a way I could only assume mirrored my own.

  “Nothing. I just…,” I shrugged, “he probably thought I was nuts. ”

  “That could possibly be the most boring story I’ve ever heard,” Kim said, deflated.

  “I tried to spare you the non-details. He did have a nice smile, though,” I mused.

  Kim looked up at me with renewed interest and opened her mouth to say something, but Professor Hunter walked in the room. I hadn’t noticed the numerous empty seats. Some of the students were tossing their papers on his desk and leaving the way they came instead of meandering to their seats as usual.

  “What are you stil doing here? Turn in your papers and get out. Your grades wil be posted on the web site. Happy Holidays,” he said to those of us stil peppered across the room.

  As finals week came to an end, the nightly ritual of curling into a bal to cry seemed to be a permanent fixture in my life. The first week of break, I had a bit more control over the emptiness when it hit. After that, there were a few nights that I escaped the sadness al together. The grief found new strength Christmas night, but to my relief fal ing asleep without tears became a bit easier after the holidays came to a close.

  I found it disconcerting that although time provided some relief, I was also further from when Jack was a part of my life. Each passing day was that much longer since I’d been able to cal him or hear his voice. With time, relief and apprehension intertwined.

  When the spring semester began, Jared had become a blurred image from a day I wanted to file away, so it was a surprise to see him standing a few feet away from me in line at the Urban Outfitters off campus. I wasn’t confident that it was him at first, but when he accepted his receipt from the sales person and turned, I stared at him long enough to be certain. He didn’t suffer from the same hesitation that I did.

  “Nina?”

  I felt my eyebrows rise while I tried to think of something besides ‘yes’ to reply with. My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  He pointed at his chest like he was speaking to a deaf mute. “I’m Jared. We shared a cab?” He patiently waited for me to recal his face, and I realized I hadn’t forgotten an inch of it.

  “I thought that was you,” I said, trying a polite smile. Something was wrong with my throat. It felt dry, and as if I was drowning in my own saliva at the same time. I swal owed hard and tried to remember how not to be a ridiculous teenaged undergrad.

  Jared’s expression skipped from relief to elation as a broad smile appeared across his face. A warm feeling bubbled up from my chest into my face, and I felt the heat release from my cheeks.

  Oh, God, don’t blush! I thought to myself. But it was too late. I had no idea how to recover. “You seem to be having a better day. Made it to the bus on time and al that?”

  “Something like that,” I mumbled. “How is the security business?”

  “Interesting. ” A glimmer touched his eyes that I wasn’t quite sure how to translate.

  Our attention was simultaneously drawn to the phone vibrating in his jacket pocket. He smiled apologetical y before reaching down to silence the distraction.

  “Did you have a pleasant Christmas?” I tried not to cringe once the words left my mouth. Ugh. So unimaginative, I thought.

  “Something like that,” he quoted.

  I smiled at his teasing. He seemed so comfortable around me. I wasn’t sure if it was confidence or that he was just one of those people that could carry on a conversation with anyone and make them feel he’d known them for years.

  I raised the silver sweater tunic in my hands. “Birthday shopping for my mother. ”

  A man behind me cleared his throat, and I realized that we were holding up the line. Jared smiled and took a step backward toward the register. I realized our conversation wasn’t over, and I turned my attention to the red-haired girl behind the counter, trying to conceal my enthusiasm.

  She handed me the receipt, and Jared accompanied me outside. He stared down into my eyes, warmly scanning my face. I didn’t remember him being quite so tal . He towered over me, at least six feet two inches. How had I not noticed the incredible color of his eyes? They seemed to glow as he watched me fidget.

  “Are you from Providence?” I asked.

  “I am,” he said, seeming amused by my awkwardness.

  “Did you go to Brown?”

  “No. ”

  If his eyes weren’t so animated by the conversation, I would have guessed by his short answers that it was my cue to excuse myself with my tail tucked between my legs.

  “Real y? I’m trying to place you. It seems like we’ve met before. ” Did I just issue him a pick up line? Fantastic, I’ve now sunk to the level of desperate teenage boys everywhere.

  “I don’t think so. That’s not something I would forget,” he said. “I was just going to grab a bite to eat at the end of the block. Would you join me?”

  I thought I had said yes, but he continued to stare at me expectantly.

  “Nina?”

  “Yes? I mean yes. That would be great. ” I tried to smile through my humiliation and wondered if I was always so articulately clumsy. I couldn’t imagine why he was stil speaking to me.