《Gathered From the Meadow》


 Falling Petals

    Seeing the caf¨¦¡¯s front of house lights turn off, Mari breathed a sigh of relief. The hour leading up to closing was always tense, spent getting an early start on closing procedures while under the looming threat of having one more ticket come into the kitchen and undo all of the progress made. As summer¡¯s official beginning approached and brought more tourists by the day, attempting to leave before midnight slowly became less of a goal and more of a pipe dream. Mari knew better than to complain about any increase in business, but staying late to prepare for the next morning was hardly enviable, particularly in that moment. It was an understatement to say that it had been a long day.


    Mari had been woken up unusually early, the night before still working its way through her system. Pushing aside the empty glass and half-filled gin bottle that had accompanied her to bed, she¡¯d angrily groped for her phone as she was rapidly shifting from peaceful sleep to blind rage. Groaning and silently cursing whoever had made the mistake of either dialing the wrong number or thinking she¡¯d let them extend her car¡¯s warranty, she was ready to unleash a torrent of vitriol against whoever had disturbed her reprieve from consciousness until, her fingers finally finding the phone and furiously clutching it, she¡¯d brought it to her face and seen the name. In an instant, her sleep-addled mind shifted into high gear as she recognized Lily¡¯s name and her mood shifted from irritation to concern. Knowing how late her nights were, Lily only contacted her during the day if something had gone wrong.


    As it had turned out, Mari¡¯s expectation wasn¡¯t entirely off the mark; Lily needed to know if she could work the weekend as she was expecting Allison to be dealing with what Lily would initially only refer to as ¡°a situation.¡± Though Mari certainly had a soft spot for Lily and often made an exception for her in her distaste for people in general, her patience wasn¡¯t limitless. Knowing that there was more to the story that was being kept from her made it difficult to blindly agree with it, even for Lily¡¯s sake.


    ¡°Look, just¡­tell me what¡¯s going on.¡±


    Lily had given a long pause before taking a deep breath. ¡°Fine¡­that¡¯s fair. It¡¯s just that¡­today is the day, I think.¡±


    Her mind still fogged by fatigue, Mari struggled to remain calm while deciphering what Lily wasn¡¯t saying. ¡°Lily, I¡¯ve had, like, four hours of sleep, so¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s on her way to talk to Remy.¡± Lily spit the words out as if they were burning her tongue. ¡°She¡¯s going to ask her out today.¡±


    All traces of sleep vanished from Mari¡¯s mind immediately, understanding violently jolting her awake. The words pierced her heart like an arrow and shattered it. There was a long moment in which Mari allowed years of habit to check her emotions, ensuring a steady voice and placid expression. After a few seconds¡¯ effort, only the pain in her hollow chest remained.


    ¡°Is that all? Yeah, I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    Lily hesitated before responding, clearly unprepared for the response. ¡°A¡ªare you sure? I could always ask¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I could use the hours, anyway.¡± Mari¡¯s voice remained steady, but she knew it wouldn¡¯t last. She was on borrowed time.


    ¡°Are you¡­are you still sure that you¡¯re okay with this¡ª?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s none of my business.¡±


    Lily had fallen silent as Mari¡¯s words cut through her own. Mari had felt a pang of guilt on hearing her own voice, the sound heavy with irritation and far more harsh than she¡¯d intended. It wasn¡¯t that she was angry with Lily; in fact, she wasn¡¯t angry at all. She was afraid. She was keeping the growing surge of emotions at bay, but she knew that she couldn¡¯t keep it up for long. All she¡¯d wanted in that moment was to end the conversation and find some privacy before her endurance was exhausted entirely. It was her primary rule that was at stake, the one that must never be violated: They can never see. Mari quickly agreed to be there an hour early later that day, then ended the call and stared at the phone in silence. When her vision began to blur, she sat up on the edge of her bed and let habit lead her hand to grasp the gin bottle by its neck. She¡¯d willed her focus to shift from the warmth of the tears on her cheeks to the burn in her throat, grateful for anywhere else to put her attention until she felt warmth filling the void inside of her. She¡¯d passed the time until salvation found her with what, by that point, had become a mantra.


    I¡¯m fine.


    Mari glanced up at a clock on the wall as she made her way to the restroom. Shocked that it wasn¡¯t quite 9:30 yet, she briefly congratulated herself for managing to finish early for once before considering the options for the evening that were suddenly available to her. As she¡¯d agreed to work open to close over a weekend before continuing with her regular schedule on Monday, Lily had insisted that Mari take the next two days off to rest beforehand. Mari attempted to argue, but to no avail. Still in a hurry to end the phone call, she couldn¡¯t put as much of herself into arguing as she might have liked, though she later admitted that there hadn¡¯t been much of an argument to make. Lily wasn¡¯t one to ignore anyone¡¯s well-being, and would¡¯ve needed to be thoroughly convinced that she wasn¡¯t doing so to let the matter drop. After having made such a show of proclaiming that there was nothing about Allison¡¯s plans for the weekend that should concern her, Mari couldn¡¯t follow it up by admitting that having to go to work would¡¯ve been a relief as it would give her something to occupy her thoughts. She fully intended to not only work open to close on Saturday and Sunday after her regular Friday evening shift, but also do all of her own prep work and cleaning. By her calculations, that would leave, at most, four hours a night for sleeping. In her mind, it was as good a scenario as it could¡¯ve been, the only flaw being having the next two days to try to not feel anything.


    In the restroom, Mari unbuttoned her chef coat and let it fall open, exposing her black camisole and overheated skin to the cool air outside of the kitchen. She breathed a sigh of relief as she removed her beret and unpinned the hair hidden beneath it, letting it fall free for the first time in hours in a cascade down her back like a black waterfall. On any other day, it would¡¯ve been among the best feelings in the world to be caressed by the cool evening air rather than the relentless heat of an oven, a serene signal to end the work day and begin a well-earned rest. That evening, however, Mari couldn¡¯t focus on it. She stood there in front of a mirror over a sink, staring at her reflection and slowly falling into an old habit.


    She took in her features, her heavy mascara, her smoky violet eyeshadow and her lipstick, a purple so dark that it was nearly black. Each thing she noticed, she compared to her memory of the one time she¡¯d visited the nearest grocery store and met Remy. Point for point, she compared herself to her memory as she braced herself against the sink and leaned closer to the mirror. The deep brown of her eyes was at least a shade darker, and her skin tone was several lighter. Her hair was almost perfectly straight, the only deviations coming from being pinned in place beneath her beret. It only shared its color and length with Remy¡¯s, featuring none of her gentle curls and waves. Remy¡¯s makeup was minimal and natural, a world removed from Mari¡¯s almost haunting dark colors framing her features. The differences were as clear as day, but their significance was lost on her. There was no taking one or the other as being inherently better or worse, merely different. There was only one thing separating her appearance from Remy¡¯s that held any significance, but it made all of the difference in the world: Allison apparently had a preference.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m ready to¡ªMari? Are you okay?¡±


    Mari turned to the restroom door as it opened to see Andrea standing there, her car keys already in her hand. For a moment, she was at a loss as to why Andrea was staring at her that way, her face contorted by both surprise and sympathy. Feeling a familiar warmth on her cheek, Mari finally noticed the one thing about her appearance that she¡¯d failed to notice, much less scrutinize. Practice moved her body when her will failed, her thick-soled boots storming toward the door and startling Andrea into instinctively clearing the way. Mari¡¯s hands quickly brushed over her eyes in a single motion as her expression became unnaturally placid, and her voice was an unexpected sensation rising in her throat, feeling as if she was speaking someone else¡¯s words.


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    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Pushing the exterior door open, Mari didn¡¯t even bother to perform her usual check to make certain the area was clear before walking through. She felt like a caged bird, desperate to take flight as if the opportunity would pass if she hesitated for too long. Andrea quickly followed behind her, pausing only long enough to ensure that the self-locking door had sealed itself shut properly before making her way to her car without a word. It was common knowledge in the caf¨¦ to not waste words on simple pleasantries where Mari was concerned, so it wasn¡¯t especially surprising. Still, Mari couldn¡¯t ignore the tension in the air that she¡¯d created any more than she could not curse herself for doing so. She had no more against Andrea than she had against anyone else that worked there and lived under the assumption that she hated them all, but she was at a loss as to how to convey that to them. Instead, all she could do was restore the distance between herself and the inevitable pain that came with getting too close.


    Getting into her car, Mari took a moment to attempt to collect herself and put her emotions aside. She was still angry with herself, her reasons shifting from unintentionally poisoning the atmosphere a moment earlier to having put herself in a position to do so in the first place. The last several months had been a long and torturous process, but she was certain that she¡¯d managed to finally put those kinds of thoughts behind her. She started her car and pulled out of the parking lot repeating the same thoughts she¡¯d always had in these moments, telling herself again and again that, for better or worse, it was over. It was time to let go. Driving in the cool night air and warm glow of street lamps, she told herself that she should be grateful. At least she¡¯d had the sense to not break her rule and expose herself. It could¡¯ve been a catastrophe, burdening someone with feelings that they were incapable of returning and doing far more harm than not being friendly enough when covering a broken heart. Mari was determined to remember that, all things considered, this was a best-case scenario. Of all of the bad endings, this was the best of them.


    Mari managed to distract herself, but not enough to not notice that she was passing through the Square. In spite of herself, she found herself slowing to a stop as she drew near the wisteria tree dominating the town center. She followed the beams of light from the spotlights set into the ground as they rose into the air and illuminated the lavender petals that occasionally drifted from their branches and sprinkled the ground below. As with every time she saw it, she couldn¡¯t keep Allison¡¯s voice from repeating the words that Mari had long since given up on trying to not hear. It had been such a simple thing, an offhand comment made in the middle of a discussion with Lily that she¡¯d never even been meant to hear. Mari would spend weeks afterward telling herself that Allison¡¯s cheerful exclamations about not being able to wait until spring to see the tree bloom were just an attempt to make conversation and should mean nothing to her, but that was in the days when she was still refusing to believe that Allison could inspire any feelings in her at all. In reality, it was the moment that Mari discovered that Allison had an artist¡¯s soul and a penchant for the romantic. As she mused endlessly on what beautiful moments could be created in such a place, Mari¡¯s thoughts were slowly focusing on one in particular. Since that moment, it was rare for a day to pass without her imagining herself sitting on a bench under that tree, watching Allison approach and preparing to, for the first time, close the distance rather than widen it. Again feeling warmth where it shouldn¡¯t be, Mari turned her attention back to the road as she again forced herself forward.


    With her thoughts continuously drifting between what could have been and what most certainly was, Mari didn¡¯t have any attention to give to where she was going until she¡¯d arrived. Again, habit saw her through when her will failed her. Before she¡¯d fully realized it, she found herself getting out of her car and looking up at the front door of a liquor store. Remembering the gin bottle that she¡¯d woken up to that was now lying empty, she finally understood how she¡¯d come to be standing there and breathing a sigh of relief to see the store¡¯s interior lights still on. There were ten minutes left until closing and, between being intimately familiar with the store¡¯s shelves and not feeling especially picky as long as the burn could force her thoughts into submission, that was nine more minutes than she needed. The next two days were going to be long, and she was woefully unprepared to endure them. It was time to stock up.


    As she quickly walked along the aisles, Mari again cursed herself. She was certain that this was over by now, a ridiculous fantasy run out of control that should¡¯ve been long since brought to heel and its damage undone. It ended on the day that Allison had returned from one of her unexpected grocery trips with a wistful smile and Mari, still in the midst of marveling at her radiance, learned that smile was meant for someone in particular. That was the day that Mari decided she was learning a life lesson that should¡¯ve been absorbed long ago, and everything she was feeling was her justly deserved punishment for not taking it to heart the first time. All of this could¡¯ve been quite easily avoided had she done so. This day was inevitable; Allison was too charming and confident to let fear keep her from what she wanted for long, and the sparkle in her eyes every time Remy was mentioned made it clear what she wanted. Mari had been given more than enough time to prepare for what had been obvious from the beginning, and she felt foolish for allowing the day to come and somehow still being unprepared. She¡¯d thought earlier that day that perhaps she was ready, that the morning¡¯s call from Lily was simply a matter of being exhausted and caught unaware. With enough time to prepare before seeing Allison that day, it was passing just as every other had when they found themselves working together. She¡¯d even managed to help Allison push through the last of her fear¡ªand closer to Remy. In her mind, she should¡¯ve been fine, finally moving past fantasy and back into reality. After all, this was only ever going to end one way.


    Stepping out of the liquor store, Mari was already thinking of how to best put the armful of clinking glass bottle to use when she got home when her eye caught lights shutting off in the distance. She tried to stop herself from looking up, telling herself again and again that there was nothing noteworthy about a store¡¯s lights shutting off at ten o¡¯clock. As if to confirm, the lights of the liquor store shut off just as she was getting into her car, the owner only leaving them on long enough to ensure that Mari had reached safety. She struggled to keep her thoughts on the road, the liquor, the time, the weather or anything else as she drove past the grocery store standing between her and her apartment. Just as she¡¯d nearly passed it, her eyes betrayed her and darted to the side, quickly scanning the store¡¯s interior as her heart came to a stop and waited. She knew before she started looking that she wouldn¡¯t see Remy in there this late, and it would make no difference if she did. Why she could never stop herself from caring remained a mystery.


    Even putting aside the inexplicable desire, she had experience to prove the point. In the early days of attempting to put thoughts of Allison out of her mind, she was failing particularly miserably one morning and, in a haze of sorrow and whiskey, she found herself standing in the middle of the store and asking for the location of pears that she knew for a fact were out of season. She never understood why, but she needed to see Remy for herself just once. She couldn¡¯t put the final nail into the coffin of her desires until she saw what she was up against, and she saw exactly what she expected. She was prim and proper, tall, curvy and effortlessly beautiful. She was everything that Mari wasn¡¯t. They weren¡¯t even opposite sides of the same coin; there was no relation between them at all. She never understand why, but it was what she needed to finally put her heart into moving forward.


    Finally home, Mari dropped everything but the bag filled with liquor bottles on the floor, her purse, keys, chef coat and beret leaving a trail from her front door to her kitchen. Somewhere along the way, there had been an intent that involved a glass but, by the time the bag was safely resting on a counter and an elegant vodka bottle had been pulled free of it, that intent was abandoned in favor of expediting relief. There was a vague thought about appreciating the smooth flavor and surprisingly floral bouquet, but the pretense annoyed her more than it helped. She knew before she¡¯d bought it that she needed it in her system as quickly as possible, coursing through her veins and cushioning the blows against her heart that, for some reason, refused to relent. Satisfied that the process had begun, Mari finally reached for a glass as she struggled to put the grocery store out of her mind once and for all. The burn in her throat that was beginning to spread through her body was slowly renewing her determination to be done with this, to do something dramatic to make amends for her failures and prove her dedication to the cause.


    Reaching for a bottle of cranberry juice, she froze in place as a thought occurred to her. As she was struggling to put Remy out of her mind, she was reminding herself of the one time they¡¯d met and how the entire experience had proven to be pointless. In spite of that, she couldn¡¯t entirely ignore the desire to do it again, a twisted and masochistic desire to cause herself more pain for reasons unknown. In a grim moment of inspiration, she saw herself once again standing in front of Remy, this time having a conversation not unlike the one she¡¯d had with Allison earlier in the day. It was like driving a dagger into her own heart, but this time deliberately rather than as an unintended consequence of failing to contain her emotions properly. Something about the thought was darkly beautiful, a fitting end to this daydream turned nightmare. She had one advantage over Remy, one bit of knowledge that she knew Remy lacked. She jealously guarded the secret as the one thing that was hers alone, but it was time to let it go. She tried to focus on that part of it, that she was bringing an end to this torture on her own terms and desperately trying to not admit that she was certain that it was what Allison would want, even if not how Mari always dreamed of presenting it to her.


    Time would go on. Life would go on. The sun would rise the next morning and, if Mari could manage to stand, she would face it. The first step in doing so would be relinquishing her beautiful secret to someone who needed and deserved it far more than she did. She would drag herself to that store one last time and, under the guise of searching for some other bit of out of season produce, she would find a way to speak of beautiful moments that should be shared under the gently falling lavender petals of wisteria trees. It was time to let go.

 Pain Shopping

    I just need cereal. That¡¯s it. Just get some cereal and get out.


    Mari knew that it wasn¡¯t true. At best, it was a lie that had some basis in a suspiciously convenient truth. Knowing better didn¡¯t keep her from telling herself the lie, however, repeating it again and again as she closed her car door and began crossing the parking lot. She kept her eyes on the ground in front of her, refusing to look up at the doors of the grocery store even as she moved in a straight line toward them. For some reason, it made the task of getting there more tolerable to pretend that she was headed anywhere else.


    As much as she hated deceit¡ªespecially when deceiving herself¡ªrecent events had reminded Mari of the value in being able to set the truth aside for a moment when it became too great a burden to bear. Sometimes, the truth needed to be exchanged for something more palatable, something every bit as fulfilling and satisfying to fill the void and to keep her from falling into it. In a sense, anything would do. Setting aside reality was inherently dangerous, and the specifics of the ways and means ultimately mattered little as the slope was always going to be slippery. Given the choice, however, Mari felt that nothing satisfied like vice. It was destructive, but so was everything else that came with denying reality. Vice was different from most of the alternatives in that she could account for it, mitigating the damage of its less fortunate effects and keeping it from hurting anyone but her. It was just a matter of picking the right one. Some problem or another always got through the cracks, but it never mattered in the end if it felt good enough to balance out the bad. If nothing else, she was faced with a choice of damnations, either crushed beneath the truth or poisoned by anything else. Either way, she was on a bullet train to hell and, as long as that was going to be the case, she¡¯d decided that she may as well make the ride comfortable.


    For all of its charm, however, vice wasn¡¯t a perfect solution. It was effective, but not always convenient, especially considering the ones she¡¯d chosen. Instead of wrestling with her demons, she generally preferred to drown them. The choice began with a chance encounter, but it was a path she continued to follow as the result of a calculated decision. She wasn¡¯t proud of how she made her way through life, but it at least kept her afloat after all else had failed her. Peace packaged in glass was as warm and comforting as the touch it replaced, even if it was fleeting. Potentially even more important was the fact that its dangers were predictable, the hidden thorns of a rose whose stings could be avoided through nothing more than reasonable precautions. Mornings after could be endured with medicines and endurance, and she was at least reasonably certain that the lure of nights before could be resisted if it ever proved necessary. Fear of not being able to say the same of alternatives kept Mari from straying too far from her chosen path. At the end of the day, she still needed to function.


    Unfortunately, she was in a moment in which she needed to function as she made her way across the parking lot. Allison wasn¡¯t going to be back in the kitchen until Monday morning, which meant two days of working open to close before returning to her regular schedule. There was still time for a blissful escape, but not the time it would take to recover enough to work for fourteen hours straight. It was particularly unfortunate considering the reason that Allison was gone; Mari needed an escape more than ever. The one positive facet of the situation was that working such long days didn¡¯t leave much time to think about it, especially with how quickly business was picking up leading into the upcoming tourism season. The thought of returning home from work with only enough time and energy to sleep was welcome, enough that, for the first time, Mari lamented the fact that business had been slow enough for her to leave for the night relatively early. Avoiding the extra hour of work caused by customers who came in ten minutes before closing was why she had time to visit the grocery store instead of going to bed too tired to think about being hungry. She¡¯d sulked for those last ten minutes of the night, thinking that not having excess free time that had to be spent sober was why she volunteered to take charge of the kitchen in addition to her normal responsibilities in Allison¡¯s absence.


    No¡­no, that¡¯s not true.


    Setting the truth aside was a convenient substitute for a bottle, but it was a learned skill. Between the facts that it ran counter to Mari¡¯s nature and that she¡¯d never considered practicing it until recently, she¡¯d spent the entire day telling herself convenient versions of the truth only to slip back into correcting her course and acknowledging things for what they were purely as a reflex. The damage was done, though, and Mari didn¡¯t have the energy to spend on trying to put the genie back into the bottle. The truth was that she volunteered because she wanted to help Allison, even if it meant helping her move beyond her reach.


    Mari wanted to be angry, to scream into the void about how it was unfair or how Remy didn¡¯t deserve her or anything other than the one truth that she hadn¡¯t yet found a way to ignore. Everything she¡¯d learned about Remy suggested that she deserved to be with Allison¡ªas far as Mari was concerned, even more than she did. She couldn¡¯t say that it wasn¡¯t fair, either. There wasn¡¯t anything unfair about the fact that Allison had a preference and, as long as Mari was being honest, she couldn¡¯t even call it a preference. As far as she knew, Allison had never even considered her as an option to compare to Remy. The truth was that none of it was anyone¡¯s fault; it was just what happened and, looking at it objectively, it was actually a positive result. Two out of three people were happy, and that was two more than life ever promised. The fact that she was the one left out in the cold didn¡¯t change that things were as good as they reasonably could be.


    Then why am I here?


    The belief that she¡¯d put the matter behind her was one of the convenient realities that Mari had managed to convince herself was true over the last several days. It was at least partially true, with her having made peace with the fact that she needed to let go of her dreams of any future that included Allison the last time she found herself in this store. It was true that she¡¯d started the process, but it was longer and more difficult than simply choosing to do it. She wanted it to be over, to be able to wake up and feel nothing more than the usual pains morning brought. It was easier to endure when remembering that she¡¯d already started and, when the waiting became too much, to pretend that she was closer to the end of the journey than the beginning. It also made her previous trip easier to think of it as just being one more step along that journey, one that would cover miles instead of inches.


    That still doesn¡¯t answer my question.


    Mari sighed, resigning herself to moving forward without an answer and blindly hoping to find it along the way. Much like spending her every waking hour working, mindlessly toiling was another way of coping. As she came near the doors, they slid open and exhaled the fragrance of expensive baked goods while filling the quiet outside with the sound of violins. Mari groaned quietly, unable to stop herself from thinking of it all as pretentious and unnecessary. She silenced the thought as soon as she felt it forming, however, recognizing it as a coping mechanism that she refused to tolerate. She couldn¡¯t say that she hadn¡¯t spent at least some time being angry with Remy about how events unfolded, but she knew what was wrong with it and, at the very least, she could force herself to not tolerate it. Allison deserved to be happy, and Remy was her best chance.


    Mari picked up a basket and began aimlessly wandering the aisles, looking at nothing in particular with the hope that something would jog her memory and remind her of what excuse she¡¯d found to be there. Instead, her thoughts were occupied by trying to understand why she¡¯d actually come. Having spoken to Remy the last time, her role in whatever developed between her and Allison was done. She wasn¡¯t needed anymore, a thought that pained her too much to think that she wasn¡¯t aware. It was broken glass under her skin, every movement causing it to stab and tear open new wounds every time her heart beat. She wondered if it was a sign that she was beginning to let go that the thought of Allison¡¯s being with someone else somehow didn¡¯t hurt her nearly as much as the knowledge that she wasn¡¯t needed any longer, her excuses for remaining present in Allison¡¯s life long since exhausted. Instinct and experience both made it perfectly clear that nothing good could come of overstaying her welcome.


    ¡°Can I help you find anything?¡±


    Feeling something uncomfortable in the air, Mari looked around and turned to see that she was the focus of someone¡¯s attention. It stood to reason that she felt something was wrong; that was as quick a way to unsettle her as any. She raced to organize her scattered thoughts in an attempt to give the situation context, but she couldn¡¯t immediately find any. She was reasonably certain that she didn¡¯t know the woman who was in front of her, watching her cautiously with an uncomfortably familiar expression that looked like sympathy. She was waiting, giving the impression that she¡¯d said something and was expecting a response. Her blouse and apron made her look like a store employee, giving Mari hope that whatever she was missing was something that could be easily dismissed.


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    ¡°Sorry, what?¡±


    The woman smiled kindly, giving Mari a warm feeling that she detested. ¡°Can I help you with anything?¡±


    I doubt it. Though annoyed by the interruption of her muddled thoughts, Mari was relieved that, at the very least, it was as simple a matter as she¡¯d hoped. ¡°Oh¡­no, thank you.¡±


    The woman nodded politely, but didn¡¯t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere. ¡°Just out of curiosity, what are you making? Stir-fry?¡±


    Why the hell would I be making¡ª?


    Mari was relieved to see the woman finally break eye contact, unsure of how much more she could take of the gentle kindness in her gaze. Wondering what she was looking at now, Mari followed her eyes down to her hands and saw that she was holding a package of glass noodles that she couldn¡¯t remember picking up. Her frustration with the situation growing as she considered the prospect of explaining anything even vaguely resembling the truth to a complete stranger, she set aside her confusion and took what looked like the quickest end to the encounter.


    ¡°Yeah¡­yeah, I¡¯m making stir-fry¡­apparently.¡±


    The woman laughed softly, the cheerful sound cutting through the haze in Mari¡¯s mind and, for a moment, entirely derailing her mood. It wasn¡¯t until she spoke again that Mari was able to remember to resist the inexplicable comfort that she was feeling and silently wonder what she¡¯d found so amusing.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s going to be good. You look like you know what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    Again, confusion led Mari to follow the woman¡¯s gaze as she wondered what it was about her appearance that was giving any kind of impression other than of someone who wanted to be left alone. Noticing that her attention was now focused on her chest, Mari looked down and realized that she¡¯d never taken off her chef coat. There was a moment of panic as, in an instant, it occurred to her just how quickly word of her presence there¡ªnow for the third time¡ªcould travel the several blocks back to either Lily or Allison and raise any number of questions that it made her sick to even consider answering.


    ¡°Oh! N¡ªno, I mean¡­not really. It¡¯s not my specialty or anything. I just¡­kind of picked these up.¡±


    There was another wave of fear as Mari heard how unconvincing she sounded, again suffering the consequences of telling the truth as a reflex. She braced herself for the the questioning that seemed inevitable, but it never came. The woman merely nodded, apparently satisfied with what she¡¯d heard.


    ¡°Hmm¡­in that case, I might have a chance, after all.¡±


    Disoriented from having bounced from confusion to fear to relief so many times, it took Mari a moment to shift back to confusion. ¡°A chance at what?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I was just wondering how my stir-fry would compare to a professional¡¯s. What do you think?¡±


    How the hell would I know?


    Mari wanted to be more irritated, but she couldn¡¯t bring any significant anger to bear against someone who seemed to be going out of her way to be kind. Much of the reason she hated dealing with genuinely kind people was how disarming they could be. Without anger at her disposal, Mari felt defenseless. Searching for a more appropriate response than the first one to occur to her, she noticed that the woman¡¯s expression appeared to have changed slightly as she waited for a response. Her smile was still present, but there was a sense of expectation that didn¡¯t seem to have anything to do with waiting for an answer for her question. Sensing a shift in mood that she couldn¡¯t quite place, Mari again relied on a reflex to navigate the conversation and defaulted to humility.


    ¡°To be honest, I¡¯m really not even qualified to say. I¡¯ve never even studied it formally or anything. It¡¯s just something that I make once in a while.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­in that case, want to get together and compare notes? If you¡¯re free tonight, I¡¯ll be closing up here in about fifteen minutes.¡±


    Didn¡¯t I just say I¡¯m not qualified to¡ªwait, what?


    Finally growing accustomed to the situation, Mari¡¯s mind had begun to race as it attempted to account for the endless directions the conversation could potentially take and prepare responses for various outcomes. Somehow, she¡¯d said the one thing that it had never even occurred to Mari to suspect was coming, much less ready a response to address. Her mind was again sent reeling, and the added mystery of what the woman was suddenly smiling so widely about wasn¡¯t helping. In her desperation to say anything to fill the silence and keep things moving forward, Mari didn¡¯t bother resisting the urge to be at least partially honest.


    ¡°I¡­sorry, but work is hectic right now and I have to be up early in the morning. In about seven hours, actually.¡±


    The woman looked slightly disappointed, but it didn¡¯t last long before her cheerful smile returned. ¡°Oh¡­I know how that can be, trust me. I was in the same position around this time last night. Well, how about stopping by again when things settle down a bit and you¡¯ve got more time? We could always try again then. Or, you know¡­you could just stop by to say hello, if you want. I wouldn¡¯t mind that, either.¡± Before Mari could do more than nod in response, she smiled again and began walking away while looking back over her shoulder. ¡°Oh, by the way, my name is Jade.¡±


    ¡°M¡ªMari.¡±


    ¡°Mari? Pretty¡­it suits you.¡±


    With a quick wave, Jade made her way along the aisle and disappeared around a corner. Finally finding the freedom she¡¯d been waiting for since the conversation began, Mari wasn¡¯t entirely certain what to do with it. She wasn¡¯t sure how long she¡¯d been standing there and trying to collect herself before finally remembering her earlier sense of urgency in leaving before being discovered. It seemed like a lost cause, but it still felt like the right thing to do in the moment. Nothing about being surrounded by people was helping her process what she¡¯d just experienced.


    Several minutes later, Mari was dragging her feet across the parking lot and heading toward her car, suddenly exhausted and carrying nothing but the glass noodles she¡¯d picked up by mistake and only bought for the sake of not raising any more questions about why she was there. Opening her car door, she threw them into the passenger seat with no intention of as much as thinking about them again; even if she¡¯d had the time to spare for doing any more cooking that day, she wouldn¡¯t have the energy. As she thought about what fast food options were still available, she realized that she didn¡¯t have the appetite, either. The thoughts filling her head didn¡¯t seem to be leaving room for much else.


    Jade was pretty. Mari had no other way to describe her. She seemed nice enough, radiating kindness that, given the effect that it had, could only be assumed to be genuine. She had at least one shared interest, and she was the type to make the first move. In addition to everything else, she seemed interested. It should¡¯ve been a moment worth celebrating, or even considering. As Mari sat in her car thinking, though, there was nothing. Not interest or disinterest, just¡­nothing. She felt empty, devoid of even the ability to take any interest in what possibilities may or may not be presenting themselves. She just felt hollow, and even disgust or anger would¡¯ve been better. As much as she wanted the pain to subside, it only seemed to happen in the worst possible ways.


    As if on cue, Mari¡¯s phone chimed. Seeing her attorney¡¯s name caused her to lose all interest, instead quieting the phone before starting her car and heading home. Sleep was the only reprieve she had, and she wasn¡¯t going to ruin her chances at it by giving the incessant messages any more attention than they¡¯d already gotten from her so far. There was no way it was anything other than a plea to finally respond to the message she¡¯d seen a day earlier, as if she could somehow summon the strength to do so and was simply refusing. Try as she might, however, Mari couldn¡¯t push the matter out of her mind as it forced the original message to the front of her thoughts for what felt like the hundredth time.


    I¡¯ve just heard from Cara¡¯s attorney. She¡¯s willing to drop her claim to all shared assets and move forward with an uncontested divorce, but only on one condition: She¡¯s insisting on a face-to-face meeting, but she won¡¯t say what it¡¯s about. Whatever it is, I¡¯ve already received confirmation that showing up and hearing what she has to say is the only condition. I know you don¡¯t want to hear this, but the deal is airtight and you should take it. She¡¯s dragged this out long enough, and this is an opportunity to finally end it. Call me and we¡¯ll go over the details.