“I’m a vegetarian,” I said.
And pushed my plate away.
“A vegetarian who eats turtles?”
He challenged me.
“I was trying to be polite.”
And now I’d stopped.
Saw no reason to continue the game.
“Americans think food fuss
Makes them interesting,”
He snarled. But it turned out
His disgust was not for me.
“Oh, imagine that,”
snorted his Lordship scornfully,
Talking to his phone.
“We’re on our own,
Mirabel can’t make it.
And now her phone is locked!
We’ll see about that!
I’m ordering the car. Time to find out just what
This bride is playing at.”
Chapter 5 – Unavoidably Detained
She must have known he’d come
After her – the apartment was empty.
Of course she wasn’t there.
Furniture gazed at me
Forlornly as I wandered through
Expensive accommodations crying out
For individuality and life.
The closets were still packed but
Some of her clothes and luggage
Could have been gone
How would I know?
The bathrooms were still littered with cosmetics –
Everything replaceable.
In the long, bare white kitchen I
Started 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 of my wine.
Her dress lay discarded on the floor
One flounce torn
And stepped on,
Ground beneath a fleeing heel.
When the coffee was ready
I sampled the cake –
I pick lemon though
Everyone likes coconut and
Some people are partial to
Chocolate raspberry.
Found Verne collapsed in the bedroom,
Clutching Mirabel’s dress.
“I didn’t believe she’d really do it,”
He said. “I suppose the wedding’s off.”
“Maybe she had an errand,”
I proposed stupidly.
“She’ll be back.”
I bundled the fantasy garment
Back into its slick bag; a glittering
Promise too fragile to stand up to actual wear.
“Don’t you see what’s happened?”
demanded Verne,
Trying to recruit me on his case
“She doesn’t want to marry me. She
Probably she never did. All along
There’s been this game. Some another man;
I know it. Using me as leverage.”
Was this the double life he’d mentioned?
Crazy stuff. No way could he get me to sorrow
Over postponed parties;
I saw plenty of reasons not to marry Lord Verne
And in case I was likely to forget, he demonstrated more.
He sat on the bed and
Reached out his arms, clearly thinking
I would pet his shoulders
Or at the very least, kiss his hair
But chose not to comfort him.
I preferred to get some facts.
“Who?” I demanded. Sadly,
Both of them were bad at facts.
He held his head.
“There were so many.”
I came up with my most
Comforting message;
“Of course she’ll return.
“Or why on earth invite me here?”
But a terrible possibility began to niggle in my brain.
He certainly was suspicious of her
So probably watched her
Like a hawk. What if the whole wedding –
And my presence – was only to allow escape?
It was so thoughtless and cruel I knew nobody I dared
Explain it to; but it also sounded just like her;
The Mirabel who pretended to go to college,
To have diseases,
To be in jail; All to wrest
Advantage from the poor old folks.
What would she care about me?
Verne turned to me a tear-stained face –
I was amazed – and just
As I was thinking he couldn’t be a rapist –
Grabbed my shoulders and
Sucked me into a kiss.
The real “adult” kiss I’d pined for
Fantasized about and mimed
On all those lonely nights
After Ricky Stoekels ghosted me
Couldn’t be THIS one –
A full body penetration –
A probing grasping 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
Stunned.
“Love the one you’re with”
Isn’t that what Ricky Stoekels says?
“She cheats, you cheat?”
I hope all men aren’t
All bastards.
“Forgive me,” shuddered Verne,
“I’m out of my mind.
I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Maybe. I recognize excuses.
I’ve used them.
“Don’t do it again,” I said.
He said, “You’re so like her”
Which was an insult at this point.
I could stomp away, go home –
Explain to a mother trying desperately
To make it all my fault
Or I could find out about my sister’s life.
“Where would she go?
You must have some
Guy in mind?”
Alysse Aallyn 