Cold Feet Warmed
The sun slowly sank below the horizon.
The colors in the sky faded.
The brisk April air caressed my cheeks.
I leashed Kipper, gave him a treat,
and rubbed his back.
Kipper licked my face, and I hugged him.
We took our daily stroll through
Eden Park. Children tossed bread crumbs
for the geese near the serene pond.
Workers trimmed the lawn and cleared the weeds.
This spacious garden spreads for a mile.
The maple trees regained their green leaves.
The new oak benches had people proposing.
I’d seen a guy ask a woman.
She said no but shook her head yes
to save him from the embarrassment.
I sat on a bench
and wondered what
proposing would be like.
Kipper sat beside me,
wondering if a puppy existed for him.
We paddled in the same boat of hope.
The walkway lights turned on.
“Seth?” a voice said.
“Yeah?” I said.
“Do you remember me?”
I blinked through the lights.
“It might help if I moved.”
“Bessie?”
“In the flesh, dude.” Bessie gestured at the bench. “Mind?”
I dipped my gaze to the seat and returned my focus to her. “Be my guest.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Why are you here?” I said.
“Look, what I did was messed up.” Bessie hugged herself. “Like really messed up.”
“You left me at the altar.”
Bessie buried her head in her hands. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
“You don’t think it bothers me?” I said. “I mean, really?” My heart raced, and my palms turned sweaty.
“Mom said I was too,” Bessie said. “And I started to believe it.”
“You should have…”
“Should have what?”
“Do what normal people do,” I said.
“And that would be?”
“Tell me the truth, you sarcastic witch.”
Bessie cracked a smile.
I folded my lips under my teeth until
a curve formed at the corner of my mouth.
“I’m at Mom’s tonight.”
“And that’s why you’re here?”
“I figured I’d catch you here.”
“What is it you want?”
“I don’t know,” Bessie said, shaking her head. “I mean, I know.”
My gaze softened. “What?” I shrugged.
“I’m getting married tomorrow.”
I looked down and away. “Figures.”
Bessie placed her warm hand over mine. “I want you to be there.”
I screwed up my face. “What?”
Bessie nodded. “Yes.”
“How about no?” I said louder than I needed to in a park.
“If you ever loved me, you’ll be there.” Bessie handed me the dress and kissed my cheek. “Be there, please.” She pushed herself upright and moved down the trail.
I accepted that she moved on, but I couldn’t be happy for her.
I sat and prayed for a while.
“Come on, Kipper,” I said.
We followed the walkway that led to a sidewalk with my house number close by.
I fed Kipper and filled a bowl of Captain Crunch. I lowered myself, opened the fridge, and shifted bottled water, beer, and old takeout food that needed to be trashed. I grabbed the milk.
One day until it expires. Me, for the win!
I turned the stereo on classic R&B.
A ceiling fan twirled
above the kitchen table.
An evergreen candle danced
as the wax puddled beneath its wick.
Pine filtered through the kitchen
and living room.
My facade came undone. I spilled enough tears to save the spoiled milk.
But crying over spilled milk changes nothing.
I finished the cereal.
I washed and dried the bowl.
I returned it to the cabinet,
turned off the lights,
checked the locks, and headed to bed.
I fell asleep, praying for guidance.
Sun rays streamed through the window,
casting a warm glow on the room.
I forgot to set my alarm.
I stretched my back and glanced at the clock.
Shoot! I thought. I was running late for Bessie’s wedding. I needed to go for closure. I wore a white dress shirt, a red tie, and tan slacks. I washed my face, gargled my mouth, and fixed my thick, dark hair in place.
I let Kipper roam the large, fenced backyard.
I slipped into my car, looked in the rearview mirror, and ran my fingers over my eyebrows.
I reversed onto the road and headed down a side street to an Elk’s Lodge.
It was five minutes from my home. I cruised slowly for a spot.
Bessie’s mother, the bitch, pointed to a reserved spot for friends.
I tried not to hate the woman for sinking my marriage with her daughter.
But this wasn’t about me.
I parked and blew in my hand to check my breath. It wasn’t lousy, but I wrapped a mint in my hand and popped it into my mouth.
I exited the car, pointed the arm, and hit engage.
A few white clouds flew by,
but they were so high up that they didn’t block
out any of the sun’s rays.
I put on a straight face for a friend.
I walked to the lodge.
People gave me looks.
And I got a feeling.
What, I didn’t know.
But I had a feeling.
I turned my head and moved my eyes around for an open seat.
“Seth,” Anna, Bessie’s sister, said.
“Why are you crying?”
Anna pointed at the makeshift altar. “Your place is up there.” She hugged me.
“What are you talking about?”
“She ran away from you once; please don’t do it to her again,” Anna said. “Bessie is at the altar for you.”
“But your mother hates me,” I said through glassy eyes.
“She did,” Anna said. “That was before she realized how much Bessie loves you.”
“I’ve got a good job.”
“And a good head on your shoulders.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said. “It seems so far-fetched.”
“It doesn’t matter what people believe. What matters is what you do right now.”
I kissed Anna’s cheek and approached Bessie.
“I knew you’d come,” Bessie said, balling.
She spilled into my arms.
“When we were kids, I told you I’d always be there for you, and here I am.”
We exchanged vows.
(© 2024 AC)
You’re not the only hustler out there! If your schedule is tight but you enjoy writing, come check Hustle and Write with us:
