Free Earth Colors by Sarah Andrews Page A
Authors: Sarah Andrews
English for every word that passed his lips. But then the words started, and it seemed he had quite a bit to say.
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened between us, kind of clear things up. That okay with you?”
“Sure,” I said.
“We were engaged, and then all that business with my family happened, and I didn’t handle it well. So I wanted first to apologize.”
Huh ? He was referring to a falling-out of titanic proportions. He was a Mormon and I had precipitated an event that resulted in the incarceration of two of his family members. “I figure you could be forgiven for just about anything that night, Ray. Uh, I think even it’s the other way around. Maybe I should be apologizing.”
He smiled, a bit more shyly this time. “No, it’s definitely my turn. If you want to make amends to me, you can call me and make an appointment.” He kind of danced his shoulders about as he said this, trying to be funny, keeping things light.
“Well, fine. I accept your apology.”
“Thanks.”
We walked on for about another block or so without saying anything. Gradually, his words sank in, and not just what he had said, but how he had said it. Amends ? “Uh, Ray, are you going to Al-Anon or something?”
He blushed crimson. “Does it show?”
“What the—Your family are all Mormons. Not a one of them drinks a drop. What are you doing in Al-Anon?”
Suddenly all the frivolity was gone from his face. “It’s a good program. Surely you know that from your mother.”
“Well, yeah, the Twelve Steps is part of how she got sober. But she was a drunk, Ray.”
“And I am part of a … It works for me. That’s all that needs saying.”
I kept walking, studying the pavement just in front of my feet with great concentration. “I’m impressed, Ray.”
“Well …”
“And I’m glad for you.” In fact, I was jealous. Apart from his current embarrassment, he looked jubilant, downright happy, and I was not.
“So as long as I’m making amends, I’m supposed to be specific about it. I am sorry that I was so hard on you, Em. I’m sorry I asked you to give up what was true for you to try to be with me. I judged you very harshly, and
that wasn’t fair. I wanted you to change yourself so that I wouldn’t have to face myself. That was cowardly.”
I tripped, and there wasn’t even any broken pavement to trip on. My feet just got in each other’s ways, and I stumbled. “Ray—” In the movies, this is where the guy is supposed to reach out and take the girl in his arms, and it’s all sweetness and mush and the music swells and off we go to la-la land. But this was Em Hansen and Ray Raymond on a sidewalk on a brisk morning in Salt Lake City, and he kept his hands stuck in his pockets while I found my footing and lurched forward, hurrying to keep out of range just in case he got his hands out. I did not think that physical touch from another human being would help me get my bearings just then. I opened my mouth and closed it several times, trying out sounds that did not quite emerge from my throat, and then finally managed to say, “Thank you.”
“Thank you for listening.”
We walked on for quite a while, he with his head up, me with my head bowed like I was pressing into a high wind. We must have looked quite a pair. So this is the gag , I was thinking. He did not phone me up to say, “Let’s get together,” or “I still miss you terribly and will pine for you forever.” No, he’s rattling my cage just to free his self. Well, I can’t fault him for that, but I must admit—
Admit what? That I’m a vain idiot who can’t see that life is marching on without me?
Ooo , I scolded. Here we go again, arguing with ourself!
Ray broke the silence. “You’re a good person, Em. A good friend. I’ve missed your company.”
Ah. Now it starts .
Suddenly his throat sounded tight. “I’d like it if we could get together now and then, or talk, just on the phone if that’s okay.”
“I don’t
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened between us, kind of clear things up. That okay with you?”
“Sure,” I said.
“We were engaged, and then all that business with my family happened, and I didn’t handle it well. So I wanted first to apologize.”
Huh ? He was referring to a falling-out of titanic proportions. He was a Mormon and I had precipitated an event that resulted in the incarceration of two of his family members. “I figure you could be forgiven for just about anything that night, Ray. Uh, I think even it’s the other way around. Maybe I should be apologizing.”
He smiled, a bit more shyly this time. “No, it’s definitely my turn. If you want to make amends to me, you can call me and make an appointment.” He kind of danced his shoulders about as he said this, trying to be funny, keeping things light.
“Well, fine. I accept your apology.”
“Thanks.”
We walked on for about another block or so without saying anything. Gradually, his words sank in, and not just what he had said, but how he had said it. Amends ? “Uh, Ray, are you going to Al-Anon or something?”
He blushed crimson. “Does it show?”
“What the—Your family are all Mormons. Not a one of them drinks a drop. What are you doing in Al-Anon?”
Suddenly all the frivolity was gone from his face. “It’s a good program. Surely you know that from your mother.”
“Well, yeah, the Twelve Steps is part of how she got sober. But she was a drunk, Ray.”
“And I am part of a … It works for me. That’s all that needs saying.”
I kept walking, studying the pavement just in front of my feet with great concentration. “I’m impressed, Ray.”
“Well …”
“And I’m glad for you.” In fact, I was jealous. Apart from his current embarrassment, he looked jubilant, downright happy, and I was not.
“So as long as I’m making amends, I’m supposed to be specific about it. I am sorry that I was so hard on you, Em. I’m sorry I asked you to give up what was true for you to try to be with me. I judged you very harshly, and
that wasn’t fair. I wanted you to change yourself so that I wouldn’t have to face myself. That was cowardly.”
I tripped, and there wasn’t even any broken pavement to trip on. My feet just got in each other’s ways, and I stumbled. “Ray—” In the movies, this is where the guy is supposed to reach out and take the girl in his arms, and it’s all sweetness and mush and the music swells and off we go to la-la land. But this was Em Hansen and Ray Raymond on a sidewalk on a brisk morning in Salt Lake City, and he kept his hands stuck in his pockets while I found my footing and lurched forward, hurrying to keep out of range just in case he got his hands out. I did not think that physical touch from another human being would help me get my bearings just then. I opened my mouth and closed it several times, trying out sounds that did not quite emerge from my throat, and then finally managed to say, “Thank you.”
“Thank you for listening.”
We walked on for quite a while, he with his head up, me with my head bowed like I was pressing into a high wind. We must have looked quite a pair. So this is the gag , I was thinking. He did not phone me up to say, “Let’s get together,” or “I still miss you terribly and will pine for you forever.” No, he’s rattling my cage just to free his self. Well, I can’t fault him for that, but I must admit—
Admit what? That I’m a vain idiot who can’t see that life is marching on without me?
Ooo , I scolded. Here we go again, arguing with ourself!
Ray broke the silence. “You’re a good person, Em. A good friend. I’ve missed your company.”
Ah. Now it starts .
Suddenly his throat sounded tight. “I’d like it if we could get together now and then, or talk, just on the phone if that’s okay.”
“I don’t