Free Light the Lamp by Catherine Gayle

would have a clock, but the watch could stay on her body and be a little more permanent. Maybe then the time would sink in a little better. “Not a clue. Why don’t you go change while I make you a sandwich you can eat on the way?”
    “ On the way?”
    “ To the game. Aren’t you coming with us? I assumed you’d want to be there.” If I knew she was at the arena, I wouldn’t have to worry about her riding bicycles with long skirts and bare feet.
    “ Oh.” She finished putting her flowers in the pitcher and set it in the middle of the dining room table. “That looks pretty, doesn’t it? All right, I’ll go change.”
    The smile on her face was all it took to melt away my frustrations, at least this time. Once she closed the door, I moved over to the table and pulled one stem free from the arrangement. I lifted it up to my nose and breathed it in.
    Then I promptly sneezed.
    And I laughed.

 
     
     
     
     
    If I’d been looking for proof that I didn’t fit into Liam’s life no matter how hard he tried to convince both of us I did, going to his game might have given it to me. When we arrived at the arena, he took me up to the owner’s box to sit with all the wives and girlfriends, and right off the bat, I felt out of place. I wasn’t his girlfriend. Also, these women were all dressed in the same kinds of designer clothes that Sara Thomas had dropped off for me, the very kind that made me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I’d only allowed myself to wear the things Sara had brought me long enough to go to the store with Liam and buy new clothes—things that felt more like me.
    Like what I was wearing tonight. After I’d come home from my walk with all of those flowers, I’d changed into a clean skirt—one of the long, flowing, flowery ones with lots of bright colors that I loved so much—and I’d paired it with a cobalt-blue peasant blouse. I’d put on a pair of slip-on sneakers because Liam had almost flipped out that I’d been gone without having any shoes on and I thought that would make him smile. He’d taken one look at me and suggested I go back into my room for a jacket or cardigan because it would be cold in the arena. I’d grabbed the first sweater my hand had landed on in the closet—a bright-pink one that almost dropped all the way to my knees and had a series of buttons all down the front.
    My clothes were all about comfort and color. But these women? It seemed that their fashion choices all about the name on the label. Which was fine if that was what they liked; I didn’t have a problem with that. It just wasn’t me .
    In the car the whole way to the arena, Liam had tried to reassure me that I would like the other women, that they would talk to me and make me feel comfortable and help me understand the game.
    I figured he’d be wrong about that; most people tended to take one look at me and make snap judgments. But I didn’t mind. I had always preferred to look at life experiences from the fringes. Tonight, I was more curious about why he wanted me to be there, when it wasn’t something we could do together . He would be playing; I would be watching. How could I do something helpful for him if I was sitting up in the owner’s box? I’d honestly rather be back at his condo, cleaning or organizing or making it more comfortable for him in some way.
    I was fairly certain he just didn’t like the idea of leaving me alone in his apartment again, though. I’d apologized about a dozen times on our way to the arena for worrying him, but he still hadn’t wanted to leave me there.
    That was too bad for me. I liked my alone time, and it didn’t look like I was going to get much of it for a while.
    I liked people. I liked being around them. But I didn’t need to be with them all the time.
    I’d agreed to go to the game, though, because I was trying to meet my end of our agreement. He’d sworn that my presence was one of the ways I could be useful to him. It didn’t make any sense to