A Chance for Sunny Skies (9 page)

She sighed and scanned the room for our waiter. "There's this detox all the girls are doing. You should try it. All you do is drink water with cayenne, honey, and cinnamon for like however long you can stand to. You'd drop some weight, too, which couldn't hurt."

I'm not even sure what my face must've looked like. It couldn't have been good. Before I could fully react to her words, our waiter showed up.

"Ugh. Finally," my mother said, snapping at the waiter before he could even open his mouth to spout off all of the specials or whatever he was going to say. "I would like the Blanquette de Veau with a glass of your best Pinot Grigio."

The waiter nodded, wrote it down, and looked to me, but my mother kept on talking. "She will have the small house salad with fat free vinaigrette and..." she looked at me, "and water." My mother smiled at the man, handed over our menus and he left. "You'll thank me," she said and pulled out her phone to look at who knows what.

My eyes were wide and yet again, I found myself speechless. Before this, I had avoided my mother for close to five months. Had she gotten worse? Was that possible? Universe or not, this was terrible. Maybe my mother was too big of a job for even the cosmos to take on. I mean, I hadn't actually gotten a sign linked to her. My shoulders slumped forward as I started to think this may have been a mistake.

We sat in silence for the next few minutes. I tried to think of conversation topics, I did, but every time an idea came into my head, I pictured how she would react to it and thought again. Finally, I settled on something I thought would be safe, my grandparents.

"So how are Grandma and Grandpa doing?" I took another drink of water.

The waiter came at that moment with my mother's wine. She didn't thank him, but did give him a scowl before he left. Then she sipped at it and smelled it and swished it for about three minutes while I sat there waiting.

"Mother," I said, making her jump and look up at me. "I asked you how your parents are doing."

She tipped her head. "Well, yes. I heard that. I simply chose not to answer because if you wanted to know about your grandparents, you should call them yourself, something it seems you have absolutely no interest in doing."

My face heated up and anger bubbled in my stomach. Gee, I wonder why I didn't like to call my grandparents, a woman who made my mother seem warm in comparison and a man so senile that I had to reintroduce myself every three minutes.

The food came out before I got too hot and bothered. My small salad sat in front of me looking very small and very salady (not that I minded salad, I just would've liked to choose it myself). My mother's veal dish bubbled and it looked like there were enough calories for a week in it, but I didn't think that would be very kind to point out.

We ate without talking, without looking at each other, really. My salad disappeared pretty quickly considering it was made up of about three pieces of lettuce, a few julienned pieces of carrot, and a slice of cucumber. Bunny sipped and blew on her meal, not even touching the main part of it before I was finished with mine.

She raised her eyebrows and gave me a pointed look. "You really should slow down, Sunny. You're never going to get a boy interested in you if you're always cramming food down your gullet," she said and went back to picking at her meal.

Gullet? Since when was I some sort of large bird or hippopotamus? I narrowed my eyes at her and fumed as I sipped my water. That's pretty much what I did for the next fifteen minutes while she sipped at and complained about her food. I guess it doesn't matter how many calories are in the food if you never actually eat any of it.

The very worst part came when she began putting pieces on a plate and hand feeding them to Vaughn. The people sitting around us whispered and rolled their eyes. I wanted to die.

At that point I decided that this was absolutely no use and said, "Well, I should really get back to work."

My mother looked up and smiled, but didn't say it was nice to see me because we would've both known it was a lie.

"Thanks for lunch. I'll let you two finish," I said and went to stand up.

The look on my mother's face stopped me. Her forehead wrinkled and she leaned forward. "Oh no, dear. You asked
me
to lunch. It's your treat. That is, if we're following correct etiquette." She smiled.

My heart dropped to the bottom of my gut. What? After she ordered a ton for herself and nothing for me? I tried hard to breathe deep and keep myself from reaching across the table and shaking her. I smiled back and said, "Sure." Then I took out my wallet, got the waiter's attention, and gave him my card, even though my mother hadn't ever worked a day in her life and  made more interest in one month than I made in a year.

I signed the ridiculously expensive receipt for our lunch and waved goodbye as I left, adding yet another anecdote to the "give up" column of the list I kept in my heart about my relationship with my mother.

The lunch with my mother affected my mood in the days that followed more than I wanted to admit, but I tried to focus on the good things that were happening in my life. Plus, I still had to find my Green Shoe Guy, so I turned my attention back to him.

Each following day dragged until lunch when I would get a chance to look for him and then slowed to a crawl after I got back to work, while I waited until the day would finally be over and I could see my friends (Anna and Lizzy and I were getting pretty close, too, after seeing each other each day during yoga and at the tea shop).

As for the guy, I practiced and practiced a good twenty phrases like Tim had taught me that I could say to him once I found him. I really would be ready. Even though the waiting and wanting of things made my days feel turtle-speed, weeks went by and, before I knew it, a month had passed since my green shoe in the road vision.

That morning marked the thirty-second day and the now-it's-been-more-than-a-month since I'd seen him reality settled in. Maybe it was the time that had passed or because Rainy had met me so we could walk to the studio together that day, but my eyes didn't feel as sharp as I scanned the street. Not like day three, or seven, or even fifteen. My heart fluttered less as the apprehension that I might actually see him, might talk to him lessened, too.

I waited each day for my shoulders to slump forward in defeat, too, but they never did. The daily Yoga/Pilates I'd been doing had been working some sort of hippie magic on me. I looked down at a body that was less than it had been in years. I was getting strong. I'd probably lost fifteen pounds or more, but I didn't care about numbers.

What I did care about was that I could actually hold my body in plank without flopping onto the ground like a beached whale after three seconds. In fact, there wasn't a whole lot of floppage happening at all anymore. My Costco-sized muffin top had shrunk to one of those cute mini-muffins and while my stomach wasn't flat (by a long shot) it looked less and less like I was carrying a full-on food-baby into a second term. It didn't hurt that Rainy'd gotten me to swap my nighttime ice cream with a cup of Sunny tea (as she still called it) and that Anna had shown me enough videos of slaughter houses to make me shy away from meat for the next five lifetimes.

Heck, it wasn't even just my outsides that were changing. I wasn't heading home right after work anymore to watch a whole night's worth of TV. I hadn't checked any of the Downton Abbey or Sherlock message boards in weeks. Instead of hiding, I was getting out and experiencing life rather than watching other people's fake lives on TV.

The whole idea of these signs being my counseling was actually working. I was talking more at work, too, not just to my friends. The nagging question of "why me?" seemed less and less far-fetched. This New Sunny was making a life for herself that was worth saving and I felt that Mostly likely to die alone yearbook page fall further and further into the past. I smiled at the goodness of how it all felt and Rainy and I pushed forward in the crowd.

The streets were busier than they'd been in a while. I had to pull my workout bag closer to me as we wove through the business folk, bums, and don't-you-have-a-job-or-school-to-be-at teenagers. The studio came into view and I let a sigh escape me slowly, releasing the hope of seeing Green Shoe Guy for one more day.

"Hey!" I heard behind us. Rainy turned to look and grabbed onto my arm.

"Holy shit." Her voice fluttered and her eyes locked onto mine. She broke into a full smile.

"Fancy cat bag!" The words floated to me and sat in front of my face for a moment before I could really take them in. I stopped.

Cat bag? I looked down at my workout bag with a picture of a cat in a suit ironed on the front. Fancy cat bag. That was me. Blood crammed into my face like nightmare Black Friday crowds to an opening door at 5:00 AM.

I couldn't breathe. I heard footsteps scrape behind me. And I convinced my body to pivot.

You know that point in movies where the heroine turns around to see her hero lit up like an oiled up Fabio (sans the I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter)? I always thought that had been fake, stupid, made up, how-lame. But I'm telling you, when I turned around, eyes looking down (because I hadn't totally changed myself in a month, come on) and I saw those green shoes, I swear I heard music, saw lights, the whole production.

The characters in movies were usually looking at the guy's face first, not his shoes, but that's okay. It was him. Everything would be okay. I had found him. Actually, he had found me. I blinked as my eyes unsteadily made their way up from his shoes, up his slightly wrinkled khaki pants, up his "typical office guy" button up shirt, to his stubbly chin, sloping nose, curly brown hair, and deep blue eyes.

They blinked back at me, seeing me clearer through those same black-rimmed glasses he'd worn last time.

"Hey." He smiled and tried to catch his breath from running after me. My face tingled. "You helped me a few weeks ago, right?" he asked.

His teeth were fantastic. They were very straight, like he probably wore a mouth guard at night for years, straight.

I nodded. Smiled. Ran my tongue over my teeth and worried that I'd never had braces. Should I have? Were my teeth straight enough for him?

"I never got a chance to thank you," he said as he swiped at his sweaty forehead. I wanted to reach up and do it for him.

Rainy bounced next to me, reminding me that he and I were not alone. She squeezed my arm harder as they both looked at me, stared. More heat flooded into my face and my heart started flipping out. I was supposed to talk. Suddenly the idea seemed impossible even though I had practice all of those lines. Suddenly they all vanished. Suddenly it became embarrassing.

The heat pulsing through my body seemed to be melting away all of my hard work from the last few weeks. New Sunny, able to talk to Rainy and a few select others, able to stand up (sort of) to the office bully, able to make good life choices, that girl went all soft and gooey, leaving everything old and scared and unsure behind.

Rainy elbowed me.

"Oh! Ha!" I said and laughed loudly. My face folded into a grimace as I berated myself. No cackling, Sunny! Dammit. I took a deep breath and leaned my weight a little more into Rainy, and said, "No problem."

His face relaxed as I smoothed out my awkwardness. He nodded, ran a hand through his hair, and looked down at the street.

"You wouldn't happen to have time to grab a coffee?" he asked.

It must've been fate that Rainy was with me, that I already leaned most of my weight on her, because I swear if she hadn't been there I would have collapsed on the street.

"As a thank you," he added after I didn't say anything for a few seconds.

"Coffee?" I said, my mind trying to grasp what had happened.

His eyes squinted as he smiled. "Yeah... you know, beans, lattes, Seattle?" He made grinding and sipping gestures.

I shook my head. Crap. Did he think I didn't know what coffee was?

"Ha! I know." I pinched my mouth to one side as I tried to stop my heart from exploding in my chest. "We were just on our way to--"

"To that smoothie shop," Rainy said forcefully, opening her eyes wide in my direction.

My palms were sweaty and I nodded. Thank Jesus for Rainy. I was about to use the yoga class to run away again when really the only reason I kept going at all was to find him.

Even with Rainy's save, Green Shoe Guy still seemed confused. "Are you sure I'm not stopping you from...?" He pointed to my fancy cat workout bag.

I shook my head, thought for a second and nodded. Then I added a smile. I was so lost.

"She'd love to," Rainy said for me. "I however, will leave you two --"

Rainy let out a squeal as I clamped down on her arm and whispered, "Don't you dare leave me alone with him or I swear to God I will reenact the freaking Boston Tea Party with your entire inventory." I think my eye twitched.

Rainy pressed her lips together to stifle a smile and nodded. "On second thought, I will join you."

Green Shoe Guy shoved his hands in his pockets and we walked to the shop. I wrapped my arm through Rainy's and she pulled me along. He held the door open for us and we got in line. Knowing he was right behind me made breathing suddenly feel like a great feat.

At one point I looked back, just to check that he was still there. He smiled. My head whipped back around, my shoulders went ridged, and I focused on easier things like deciding what I would have to drink. Rainy and I ordered first, but as we reached for our wallets, a hand landed softly on my shoulder.

"My treat," he said. He took in my wrinkled expression and said, "Remember, for the shoe?"

"Oh," was all I said.

"Thank you," said Rainy. "We'll go get a table."

She led me to a four-seater and I plopped down, breathing for the first time in what felt like half an hour.

"What am I doing?" I pulled at my hair and let my head fall forward into my palms.

"You're fine. Just breathe and talk, especially; you need to talk. Promise me you'll start saying words?" Rainy grabbed my face by the cheeks and gave me an intense stare-down until I nodded.

"Easy for you to--" but I never finished because a pair of green shoes walked up to us and sat down with three smoothie cups.