Free My Life as a Doormat (in Three Acts) by Rene Gutteridge Page B

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    My windshield fogged over. I quickly swiped my hand across the glass to make a circle I could see through, then fumbled to turn the defrost on full blast. I tried to stop replaying the scene in my head, but it looped over and over again, taunting me to pick through it with a fine-tooth comb.
    My plan would’ve been completely successful had it not been for Marilyn’s unfortunate mention of Edward and Cinco’s curious mouth working me over. I’d simply mentioned I was here to learn more about dealing with conflict. That was good enough, wasn’t it? But then Marilyn had to ask whether or not the Edward fellow would be coming. Too ashamed to admit my boyfriend had stood me up for therapy, somehow I casually made him out to be my brother. It was a little white lie that could’ve stayed perfectly pristine had Cinco not been so stubborn about it all. He seemed to sense my story wasn’t true and kept asking me detailed questions. By the end of their interrogation, my brother Edward hadn’t shown up because of complications from a kidney transplant, for which I’d been the donor, which was my explanation for why I was suddenly splotching and reevaluating life and attending classes that would help me become the best person I could be.
    Despite driving full speed ahead in the pouring rain, I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, trying to block the painful realization of what a pansy I was. Well, for every measure of pansy, I was certainly going to make up for it now. I looked at my clock. It was three minutes after nine. I accelerated. Edward was always in bed by nine.
    Turning onto the street of his apartment, I prayed for a parking spot at the curb. But the cars were squeezed together like sardines. After five minutes, I found a semilegal spot three blocks away. I turned off the car and stared out at the black night and white rain.
    With eyes closed, I built my resolve. After all, I’d been wronged, and I had every right to be mad. I made sure I wasn’t being irrational. Irrationality never won an argument. I played through the entire incident, and as far as I could tell, I wasn’t wrong in the least bit.
    Opening the car door, I willed myself out of the warmth and into the cold rain. I’d already been caught off guard by the storm when I left the therapy session. But not even a record-breaking blizzard could’ve kept me from escaping that humiliating gathering. Hunching my shoulders and wrapping my arms around my body, I jogged toward Edward’s apartment, scurrying underneath overhangs as I could. The urban streets were mostly empty, though a few restaurants were still open for customers. The few people who were out didn’t seem to notice I was walking in the rain without a coat or an umbrella. But in this city, people kept their noticing to themselves.
    By the time I reached Edward’s brick apartment building, I was soaked through. It was fine with me. Looking pathetic and cold would only help my cause. I checked the doors but felt no surprise that they were locked for the night. The keypad glowed against the brick wall. I reached for the numbers, but paused with the tip of my index finger only centimeters away from the six. I looked at my watch. It was almost twenty past nine.
    Edward was sure to be in bed.
    All the better, right? An argument always goes better when the accused is woken out of a dead sleep.
    Jodie taunted me, but I tried to ignore her. I wasn’t here to stir up trouble. I just wanted an explanation. His complete and total absence from the day was a sure sign that things were not as they should be in our relationship. After all, we were a very tidy couple, always tying up loose ends. Edward was the most thorough of the two of us. The Battle of Hastings wasn’t as well planned as the one and only road trip we took together a year ago. Edward had brought enough food for six days in case “something happened.”
    I pushed the