Break Your Heart (4 page)

“It’s okay. Understand that this stuff happens to everyone. I got to go.  I’ll call you on our way back.” The sounds of a loud group of guys erupted through the phone.

“Adam?”

“Got to go. Call you later,” Adam rambled off before the line went dead.  Gina ended the call on her cell and threw it  on the passenger’s seat.   She slowly pulled down the ramp and  approached the toll both at the exit of the garage.

“Tick
et?” The young girl in the booth held out her hand.  She was wearing a navy windbreaker jacket with her name embroidered in yellow thread in the upper left hand corner.
Jackie
.  Her eyes were glued to the small Blackberry she held in her right hand. 

“Here you go,” Gina handed her the green parking ticket she had retrieved when she pulled in.  The young girl slipped the ticket into a machine.

“Eleven dollars.”

“Eleven? But I was only here for an hour.”

“No, you were here for an hour and five minutes.  It's six dollars for the first hour and five dollars for every hour after.” The young girl countered with more of an attitude than Gina would have preferred to deal with at the moment.

“That’s crazy,” Gina mumbled. She turned to the window to contest the idea of paying so much money for such a short stay, but realized she was better off saving her breath. She pulled a ten and a one-dollar bill out of her purse and handed it to the young girl.

“Thanks, have a good day,” The attendant sputtered out an instant reaction as she snapped the gum in her mouth.

“You too,” Gina replied.  She slowly pulled through the booth and out of the garage into a mass of snow
, taking a left onto the main road that would take her most of the way into Ellbrook.
The sounds of the freshly fallen snow rumbling under her tires soothed her mind as she calmed into her drive.

Four

“Good morning, sunshine!” Sounds of a high-pitched perky voice came piercing through the air.

Grant peeked out of his right eye to the bright light pouring in. He rolled his relaxed and rested body over on his fla
t pillow and buried his face. The idea of starting his day had crossed his mind a time or two since he woke fifteen minutes earlier, but the warmth of his bed kept him calmly tucked in.

“Baby, wake up!” 

Grant rolled over to the middle of the bed and cautiously opened both of his eyes.  The light was piercing, causing his head to throb. “Can you shut the blinds?” He moaned. He closed his eyes once again pulling the covers tighter to his body. He squinted in the direction of her voice.

Sarah sauntered into the room from the doorframe where she had stood with her arms firmly crossed over one another. Her long blond hair fell down her back with smooth, bouncy curls.  Her make-up was artistically placed over her flawless skin in shades of warm browns and pinks. The short cream cotton sundress she wore showed off her long legs.  The collar across the top complimented her jaw line. Grant couldn’t remember a day since he met Sarah were she had not been properly put together.  The smell of her perfume seeped through
the room, tickling his senses.  It always reminded him of the fresh strawberries he would pick as a child at the farm down the road.

“Hi baby,” he smiled as he slowly sat up rubbing his

eyes.  The slight chill of the room sent a shiver through his body. He adjusted the covers over his legs attempting to keep in the warmth.  “What time is it?”

“Seven.” Her tone was chipper as she bounced about the room continuing to make her way towards him.

Grant never seemed to understand the utter importance to anyone first thing in the morning. He enjoyed being lost in his thoughts, half asleep as he slowly welcomed the day. “Seven?” He asked, looking over at the faded red digital numbers on his clock. Some days the numbers were so faded he couldn’t make them out.  As a perfect fit, the clock sat in the middle of an old broken nightstand next to his bed.  “What are you doing here so early?” He stretched his bare arms out in front of him, feeling the pull in his back as he did so.  He continued his stretch down to his toes, warming his back muscles and making a reach for the sweatshirt that he had tossed over the footboard when he undressed the night before. The once bright blue Chicago Cubs sweatshirt now bared a resemblance of the team’s emblem as it faded into the muted base color. He pulled the worn cotton over his bare chest blocking the chill that was invading his skin.

“I missed you,” she said with a large smile across her face.  She took a seat at the foot of his bed, crossing one leg behind the other like a perfect lady.

“When did you get in?” He ran his fingers through his closely cropped hair. He tried to remember what day it was looking around the room for a clue.  Nothing struck him. He took a deep breath running through last nights’ events remembering he had been at the weekly neighborhood Monday night poker game. Tuesday, right, it was Tuesday.

“About eleven last night.”

“You drove all night? How did I not hear you come in?” His voice rose with concern. 

Sarah looked over like a child being scolded and rolled her eyes. “Yes.  My mother made dinner at five o’clock; I left at six even though dessert had not been served.” Sarah’s family lived five hours south of them on an old plantation that had stayed on her father’s side of the family for generations.  Although they were not as wealthy as they appeared they went to great lengths to keep up the front.  How Sarah ended up with a middle class boy from the mid-west baffled Grant and slightly nerved her family. He often reminded himself of his place when he was around her family after the many times that he over heard her mother refer to him as “that Ohio boy.”

“Did you have a nice time?” He asked as he stretched his arms out once again in front of him.

“I did.  It was nice to see my family.” She was talking quick, which prompted Grant for her words to roll into a ramble. Sarah was the type of woman men were afraid of. She walked about with a self-assured
confidence that often intimadated those around her. Grant had over looked this fact quickly realizing it was simply the entitlement she felt as a spoiled southern girl, something he didn’t care to cater to nor let bother him. His confidence with her and lack of attention to her demands attracted Sarah to him. No one had treated her with such a careful mixture of love, attention and respect as Grant had. 

But that wasn’t what got her. It was his quick ability to make her give that back to him. And for the first time, being with Grant, Sarah felt needed, not just wanted. “My mother and I began all the wedding plans. We were thinking we would have it back home. You know, instead of up here or in Ohio,” She continued on.

“Sure, that sounds fine,” Grant smiled. He rolled out of bed standing a tall stretch trying to get the kinks that had formed in his body. His arm and shoulder muscles heated up from the tightness of his stretch and the strain they endured from his work out the day before.  He walked over to the mismatched dresser and grabbed his gray sweat pants that sat on top. He quickly sniffed them.  Clean.  Or at least good enough.

“I really wish you would get rid of those.”

“These?” He asked casually as he pulled them up over his black boxer briefs, “Nope. They are the most comfortable pants I own.  They tell the story of my life,” he laughed, pointing to the array of stains of grease, food and dirt.

“Gross,” she replied as she rose fro
m the bed walking over to him. He wrapped his arms around her tiny frame, holding her firmly and lightly kissing the top of her head.

“I’m glad to be back,” she whispered.

“Me too. A week is way too long.” He squeezed her in his embrace before releasing her from his grip.  Her presence sent a wave of calmness through him.  She was the prophetic ying to his yang.  He had become very observant and calm in his twenties and Sarah’s outgoing and demanding demeanor balanced him well. He reminded himself often of how lucky he was that she came walking into his life.

“You should have come with me then,” she countered quickly and sternly.

He thought about getting into the fact that her mother treated him like hired help, but choose to bite his tongue.

“Next time. You know I had to work out my contract last week,” he paused, “hungry?” 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

He slipped his hand into hers and walk
ed with her down the stairs, around the corner through the front room and into the kitchen. Grant walked to the fridge, opening it up, surveying what was inside. “How about some eggs?”

She took a seat at the round wood table that sat at the lef
t of the room. “Sure. Omelet with peppers and cheese please.” She said as she picked up a magazine on the table and flipped through the pages.

Grant pulled out the half used carton of eggs and the single red bell pepper that sat on top of it along with the remaining ingredients and moved them over to the counter. Behind the homemade salsa in a blue fiesta bowl, he found a single bottle of Evian. Twisting off the cap, Grant walked it over to Sarah at the table and gently set it in front of her.

“Thanks,” she said without breaking her stare from the article she was reading.  A young model graced the cover dressed in a sleek white dress and small veil.  She didn’t appear old enough to drive legally, let alone get married.

“
Whatcha reading?” He asked as he walked back to the counter picking up a small knife out of the drawer and began to cut out the seeds and dice up the pepper.

“Modern Bride,” she smiled.  “Can you believe we have been engaged for two months? My mother was on a roll when I got there.  She has already hired a coordinator.  They are going to have everything under a big white tent in the back yard.”

“That’ll be great.” He whisked the eggs in a bowl smiling warmly at her.

“Yes it will be.  We also went and looked at dresses.” A large grin sat comfortably on her face as she stared off in the distance in a daydream. Returning back to the moment, she looked up to Grant. “Is that okay? To have it at their house? I mean that has kind of been my dream since I was a little girl.  I used to set up chairs between the pond and the gardens and pretend I was walking down the aisle,” she once again stared off into the distance, dazed by her childish memories.

“Whatever you want babe, it’s your day.” He poured the whisked eggs into a pan, watching carefully as they sizzled and skipped off the bottom.  He looked back to Sarah. Her nose was pressed firmly in the magazine.  Turning his focus back to the eggs he began to stare off mindlessly into his own  daze.

“Grant.”

“Yeah?”

“If you could pick any person in the world to marry, would it be me?”

Grant turned from the stove peering through her. Confusion fell upon his face. “What does that mean?” He rubbed his hand over his head, “I picked who I wanted to marry. Is it not obvious?” he asked, pointing the spatula in his other hand towards the ring on her finger.

“Yes. I know.” She looked down at her engagement ring as she rotated it about her finger.

“What?”

“It’s just something my mom said.” Her voice was low as she continued to stare at the ring.

“Of course it is.” He turned back to the stove rolling his eyes and taking in a deep breath as he looked away.

“She is just looking out for her little girl!” 

“Uh huh,” he moaned. He finished the omelet, folding it onto a plate and walking it over to her watching her eyes light up in the magazine as she returned to her daydreaming. He let out a light chuckle under his breath at her childlike ability to go from one emotion to the next. He knew better than to be upset with her for her antics and chose a deep breath over continuing a conversation he was sure wouldn’t take them anywhere good. Relaxing into the seat across from her at their small table, Grant picked up the local paper and began to skim the sports section.

“You’re not going to eat?” She asked.

“Not hungry.” He returned his glance back to the article about the upcoming draft.

“I feel bad eating in front of you.”

“No worries, babe.” He smiled as he thumbed through the pages looking for the remainder of the article that began on the front page of the section.

“Remember when we first started dating,” she asked.

Grant nodded as he set the paper down on the table realizing he wasn’t going to get out of the conversation as easily as he had thought…or hoped.

“Remember what you said to me?”

He looked back to her trying to figure out where she was going with her words. “Umm, I probably made some kind of comment about your beautiful legs.” He reached his hand under the table and slowly ran it up the contour of her leg.

“You did,” she giggled, pushing his hand away playfully. “Remember what else you said?”

He looked back at her with subtle confusion.  Sarah quietly gazed back at him awaiting his answer.