Free Arms Wide Open: a Novella by Juli Caldwell Page A

purse and stand up. The
bell rang awhile ago, so the place has cleared out, although people still mill
around between tables and talk quietly in shadowed corners. “Life goes on,
Oliver. That’s what happens now.”

Begin Again
     
    I’m back in my place on the couch, with
my denim jacket dangling off its arm. The cute white sundress is now lying in a
crumpled heap on my bedroom floor, and my shoes are scattered between the
kitchen and sofa. I do have on clean yoga pants with baggy tee shirt fresh from
my drawer, something I hope Harlow’s hypersensitive nose will appreciate.
    The TV is off. My thoughts are racing as
I stare at the popcorn ceiling, my eyes glazing over and blurring as I think.
The little specks of glitter in the ceiling look like distant stars in my
distorted vision, and I’m trying to focus only on that.
    The door opens and slams shut. I hear
the dead bolt slide shut and the chain rattle as Harlow locks up for the night.
I reach for my phone to check the time, and hop up to greet her.
    “So, how was your night with the
engineer?” I ask as I walk into the hall. She’s leaning against the door with a
dreamy look on her face and sparkling eyes.
    She drops her purse on our little entry
table and puts her hands on her head. “Lauren, I want to giggle and scream like
a little girl. I don’t even know what to think. I...I’m just gone on this guy.”
    “Harlow has a boyfriend, Harlow has a
boyfriend,” I chant in an obnoxious, singsong sort of way.
    Harlow looks up and just laughs. “I
think I might. It was so nice to be with a guy who wasn’t playing games.”
    “And when are you seeing him again?”
    She looks at me nervously, like I might
judge her. “Tomorrow?”
    “Wow. Good for you!” I say sincerely.
I’m a little surprised she’s moving this fast. She’s always master of the
calculated and thoughtful move, which is why she’s so great at what she does.
She’ll probably own the place in five years. Who am I to judge her on the nerdy
engineer boy? If she finds true love, or thinks it’s something close to that,
she needs to hold on tight and fight to hang onto it. I lost the best thing in
my life because I didn’t believe we were worth fighting for. As the eyeball guy
would say, keep your arms open.
    I head back to my daydreaming spot on
the couch and pat the cushion next to mine, inviting her to join me. “I’ve seen
way too many guys use you to get ahead or have a trophy on his arm. You
shouldn’t be paraded around for your looks or used for networking. You deserve
a great guy. I’m glad we went tonight, if only so you could meet Pete.”
    Harlow pulls a face. She kicks off her
stilettos and slides across the wooden floor to flop down on the couch. “When I
got the text that said I was dead to you, I thought maybe you weren’t so glad
you went. What happened?”
    I laugh. I hop up to grab a half-eaten
pint of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer along with a couple of spoons, and
then rejoin her by plopping down next to her. She takes a spoon from me as I
pull off the lid, which I toss on the coffee table. We put our feet up and dig
in. “I had a few epiphanies tonight.”
    “Really?” Harlow examines the spoon
before loading it up and taking a bite. “How so? What do you mean?”
    I stop and take a deep breath. I wish I
could say I knew exactly when a switch flipped on in my head. I spent so much
of my time tonight just trying to work through the emotions staging a steel
cage death match in my head that I never noticed, I guess. I walked home alone
under the orange glow of the street lamps, and my head cleared itself under
stars not visible through city lights and fireflies dancing around me as I
walked. Maybe seeing Grant was the last little bit of closure I needed to move
on completely. He still takes my breath away. I know now that I will always
love him. This pain in my heart, the palpable twinge, the longing ache,
hopefully will dim as time goes by. As lovers come