Chapter 7 – Unavoidably Detained
She must have known we’d come
After – the apartment was empty.
Furniture gazed
Forlornly as I wandered through –
Expensive accommodations crying out
For individuality, for life.
Closets still packed but
Some clothes could have disappeared;
How could I tell?
Bathrooms littered with impersonal cosmetics –
Everything replaceable.
In the long, bare white kitchen I
Ignited a pot of coffee.
The refrigerator was particularly sad: champagne,
A month’s supply of celery juice.
And three kinds of wedding cake in origami boxes.
Mirabel must have returned – however briefly –
Because someone drank the last champagne.
Her dress lay discarded on the floor
One flounce torn, stepped on,
Ground beneath a fleeing heel.
When the coffee was ready
I sampled cake –
Choosing lemon though
Everyone likes coconut and
Some people cleave to raspberry.
Verne was collapsed in the bedroom,
Clutching Mirabel’s dress.
“I didn’t think she’d really do it,”
He said. “I suppose the wedding’s off.”
“Maybe she had an errand,”
I stupidly proposed.
“She’ll be back.”
I bundled the fantasy dress into its slick bag; a glittering
Promise too fragile to stand up to actual wear.
“Don’t you see what’s happened?”
Verne demanded.
“She doesn’t want to marry me.
Probably she never did. All along
There’s been this game. Some other man;
Using me as leverage.”
“What other man?”
Was this the double life he’d mentioned?
Crazy stuff. I sat beside
But not to comfort him.
Let’s get some facts.
“Who?” I demanded.
Those fiancés were bad at facts.
He held his head.
“There were too many.”
Now seemed the time for
Comforting.
“She’ll return – of course she will –
Or why on earth invite me here?”
He turned to me a tear-stained face –
Grabbed my shoulders and
Sucked me into a kiss –
That real “adult” kiss I’d pined for –
Dreamed of –
Oh those lonely nights
After Ricky Stoekels ghosted me –
But not this one –
A probing invasion
Shutting off my air.
I jerked away with so much force
I landed on the floor.
Verne threw himself
On the bed, face down
Wracked with sobs
While I wiped my face
Amazed. Kisses you don’t want
Are no reward.
“Love the one you’re with” –
Isn’t that what Ricky Stoekels says?
“She cheats, you cheat,”
Bastards all. I’d received
No compliment.
“Forgive me,” shuddered Verne,
“I’m out of my mind.
I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Maybe. I recognize excuses.
Having used them.
“Don’t do it again,” I said. “Where would she go?
You have some guy in mind?”
“Maybe,” said Verne.
He looked so childish, shoulders dropped,
Unresponsive iPhone fallen to the floor.
I felt sorry for him but also
Old; sophisticated;
Like he was fourteen and
I was thirty-seven.
I pushed coffee.
Always been my favorite panacea.
He sipped in new docility.
“You know the way I like it.”
I corrected brusquely,
“There is no cream or sugar.”
“I mean strong. I like it
Strong.”
There only was espresso in the house but
Why proceed with this?
Trying to apologize? I muted so
He studied me ironically.
“I suppose you’ll go home to Mama?”
I felt a chill.
Unconsidered horror. After grasping at
Independence –
Something to actually write in my break essay –
I’d return
A powerless teenage nobody.
And there were
Further Problems were
My folks convinced
I’d screwed this up somehow.
Or I could stay here,
Indulge my favorite sport;
Figuring out What The Hell
Is Going On. It’s true that Verne
A loose cannon now but
I could always arm myself and
Lock my door.
Best to grab that bull by his
You Know Where.
“No more kissing. OK?”
He flushed a dirty red.
“No. Hell no.”
“Then I want to stay. Maybe she’s in trouble.”
He shrugged this off.
“Impossible. She’s just a tease.”
But why tease ME?
Did not feel right.
Of course, I don’t know Mirabel – must
Remind myself –
But realizing Verne was Verne he’s
Probably the last to know.
I’m only second-last.
“You really think she’s left you?”
He writhed. “We play hurt
To the top of our bent. This could
Be her winning shot.”
So why keep score?
Did she owe me or –
Did I owe her?
“Well, if she left you
She left me, too.”
Why couldn’t I believe
Mirabel would ghost me?
Wasn’t that what she’d always done?
It seemed different now –
We’d been “sisters” together –
For one split second.
A fresh chill fevered me – what if –
She was handing off her bridegroom?
Those matching dresses were just too weird.
On the other hand, fashion is transgressive –
They always try to break the rules.
No. no. Let’s not go there.
“It’s on till Mirabel calls it off.
This could be nothing.
She might come back.
She’ll call. Let’s sleep. Or try this lemon cake.”
He shuddered grumpily.
“I chose the Hazelnut.”
We ate companionably together.
He’d fed me, now I fed him.
That’s called “relationship”.
He fixed me with
A gnarly eye.
“Did she warn you?
She must have said something.
What did she tell you?
Anything about him?”
I always hated third degree.
I blush as if I’m guilty.
“She told me nothing,”
I said coldly. “I
“Was invited to a wedding.”
“She’ll never call,” he moaned.
“She’ll keep the tension up
Until the victim dies. That’s her way.”
“Then you should call it off.”
I scraped the rest of my cake
Into the trash – I only
Like the frosting –
Hardening myself against their
Craziness.
Verne rose so decisively
His plate fell to the rug.
“I’m going to find her,”
He said. “Game on.
She chose me. She doesn’t get
Another choice.”
What was the matter with this man?
Physically attractive –
Probably wealthy –
Why so insecure?
The only game is not to play.
Mirabel had always coveted those
She could manipulate. Was
That my own knowledge – or
Did my parents tell me?
That’s the benefit of growing up –
it slowly dawns that
All you’re told is nonsense.
A dose of sense is
Obviously required.
“I think you’re looking at this wrong,
Mirabel’s frightened
Of our dad. He’s your “other man.”
Verne gaped at me,
Focus readjusting as if
He saw me for the first time.
“Explain.”
“Don’t you know the story?
She pretended to go to college but really cashed all
Daddy’s checks and lived the high life.
She got in trouble with student loans,
Forging dox. We haven’t heard from her for
Years and Dad’s still angry.
I thought something was up when
She wanted to come home.”
“I didn’t know. Quite little scamp.”
He seemed cheered.
“Should we wed in church?
I don’t know one marriage that’s survived ten years.”
This man could certainly surprise me.
“Mom and Dad have been married forever,”
It was more than that –
They were unimaginable without each other;
A true team – like Laurel & Hardy or
Abbott & Costello.
I could imagine no other human
Who’d put up with either of them.
How to convey this?
“Maybe you shouldn’t get married
When you are so uncertain,” I suggested.
Would I get kissed or
Slapped for interfering?
Adults don’t like second-guessing but
Mirabel forced my hand.
“All our bridges burned,”
He sighed.
“The only way is forward.”
Depressing thought!
Cheering this guy’s mood is work.
“Let’s figure out where she
Could have possibly gone. Like,
How would she travel?”
Verne sat straight up.
“Car service,” he announced.
“I pay the bills. Let’s track her.”
He worked his phone.
“I’m so glad
“You’re staying. We need you –
Alt-Mirabel.”
Alysse Aallyn 
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