Page 2 of Only a Chapter

Part 1

“Set Fire to the Rain”

April

“Suz! Are you listening to me?” I yell down the hall as I throw the last few items into my suitcase. No response. I’m sure she can’t hear me since those wireless, noise-cancelling headphones I got her last Christmas drown out everything in the world except that insipid video game.

Zipping up the bag, I take one last look around the room we’ve shared for the past five years. Believe me, I’m not taking inventory of all the warm fuzzy memories held in this room. I’m not even sure there are any. And there definitely wouldn’t be any if I tried to stay here through whatever treatment I’m going to need. She wasn’t there for me during the last few torturous days waiting for my results, so how could she be there for me through whatever my diagnosis is going to throw at me. No, I’m just making sure I don’t leave anything valuable to me behind, because she’ll just throw it away…when she gets around to it.

I turn away and head for the bathroom. All my beauty products are lined up neatly on the rickety, plastic shelving system over the toilet. I hold a tote bag open with one hand and sweep my other arm across the shelf. Miraculously, everything falls directly into the bag. I grab a couple items out of the shower, then start searching for the cat.

Shelley has been especially skittish today, not that I can blame her. I’ve been running around like a mad woman ever since I got home from work, and all the fruitless yelling at Suz hasn’t helped either. Not wanting to scare Shelley any more than I already have, I don’t get the carrier right away. Instead, I grab the canister of treats from the kitchen and walk quietly to the guest bedroom. She loves hiding in the closet when we’re freaking her out.

“Shelley,” I coo. “Would you like some fishy treats?” I shake the treats, and the sound has the desired effect. Slowly but surely, I see one fluffy, grey paw emerge, followed closely by a pair of beautiful blue eyes. She blinks at me once. I blink slowly back at her, and I know she’s forgiven me for scaring her. As long as I relinquish a couple of the stinky salmon treats, of course.

While she’s munching, I very gingerly step around her to grab the carrier from the top shelf of the closet. She’s just finished the last treat when I scoop her up and shove her in the dreaded box. If looks could kill, I’d have been dead years ago. I won’t be forgiven for this one for a while. Oh well. I throw a few more treats into the carrier and haul her out to the living room.

“Suz!” Still no response. She hasn’t looked up from the screen since I got home. I doubt she’s even registered that I’m here. I grab my other two bags from the bedroom and put them by the front door with Shelley. She’s started to “meyowl,” which is something akin to a cat howling at the moon.

I think about calling Suz’s name one more time to try to get her attention, but realize it would be futile. The Star Trek quote, “resistance is futile,” pops into my head, and I know I have to get out of this place. Soon.

“I’m setting them on fire,” Suz says to her gaming companions over the internet. “We get one if we turn in the hair.”

I walk over to the sofa where she’s sitting and stand there with my hands on my hips, staring at her. Still nothing. Fed up, I pick up the remote and turn the TV off.

“What the—?” Suz shouts, still oblivious to my presence. She continues to press buttons on her controller, thinking she’s somehow killed the TV while fighting off the bad guys.

“Suz,” I say. She finally looks up.

“You turned off the television,” she accuses.

Of course she blames me. The TV could have died or something, but instead, I must have done it. And, yes, I did do it, but it’s her assumption that drives me insane. One more nail in the coffin.

“I did,” I say with just an ounce of calm. “Suz, we need to talk.”

“Clare,” she whines, “why’d you have to turn off the TV? We were right in the middle of a level.” The sound is so grating I wonder how I’ve survived this long without going insane. “I mean, at least let us get to a save point or something.”

I just continue as if she’s said nothing. “I’m leaving. I can’t stay here anymore. I’m not happy and I’ve finally decided it’s time to move on. I’m going to go stay with Abby for a while until I can find a place.”

And she continues as if I’ve said nothing. “Now we’re going to have to start all over. It took forever to get past the Mines of—”

“Suz! Did you hear what I just said?” I ask, exasperated. “Of course you didn’t, because you don’t care as much about me as you do that stupid game.”

“What?!” she exclaims. “You said you were going to hang out with Abby tonight. Have fun.”

I take a deep breath and count to ten on the exhale. Then I take another. Finally, by the third breath I’m ready to repeat myself. “No, Suz. I said I’m leaving, as in moving out. I’m breaking up with you and moving out. See?” I gesture to my bags and the poor kitty locked in the torture chamber.

“But… We just re-upped the lease. How am I supposed to pay for this place on my own?”

“It’s nice to know I’ve meant that much to you,” I reply. I’m not sure what I expected to happen during this conversation, but her complete lack of thought for me really hurts. After nearly eight years together, you’d think she’d be a little upset about me leaving, not just about the rent. “Good-bye, Suz.”

I pick up my purse off the kitchen island on my way to the front door. It’s not until I’ve picked up my bags that she calls out to me. “Can you at least give me a prorated check for this month?”

I don’t even bother to respond. Knowing how anal she is about us paying exactly half of every single thing in this apartment—except for the things we don’t share, like certain foods and beauty products—I already left a check on her desk. And she makes more than enough to cover our apartment on her own. I also put a note in there explaining more fully why I’m leaving her. Not that she’ll read it, or understand it, if she does. It just made me feel better to get it all out.

After I slam the door behind me, I hear the telltale beeps that mean the TV’s been turned back on. I shake my head then start making my way down the stairs. It figures I would decide to move out right when the landlord finally decides to do maintenance on the ancient elevator.

It doesn’t hit me until I’ve gone down two flights that I’ve just broken up with my girlfriend and I’m essentially homeless. Not to mention the echoes of the word “cancer” bouncing around in my mind. Sure, Abby’s going to let me stay at her place, but that’s just temporary. Tears well up in my eyes and I try to shrug it off as I continue down the next two flights. I needed to do this. I couldn’t stay there anymore because I’m not happy. I deserve to be happy.

It’s just… She didn’t care. We’ve been together for so long, and she didn’t care that I was leaving. I really don’t know what I expected to happen, but I thought she’d at least ask me one time not to go. Some tiny expression of sorrow that I wouldn’t be there tomorrow would have made me feel better. But I got nothing from her. She didn’t even ask if I’d gotten my results yet. Almost eight years, and nothing to show for it.

I step out onto the sidewalk only to find out it’s raining. And, by raining, I mean pouring. Typical. I cower beneath the pitiful excuse for an awning and reach in my purse for my phone. It’s not there. Then it dawns on me, I left it charging at work. I never charge my phone at work, but with all the extra phone calls to make appointments and checking for updates on my portal every five seconds, I ran out of battery. A whimper escapes my throat. What am I going to do now? I’m homeless and getting wetter by the second, and I have no way to get to Abby’s on my own.

Shelley is losing it in the crate. Her treats have long since disappeared and she’s getting wet too. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’ll get us somewhere dry in a second.”

I look up the street, but there aren’t really payphones anymore. Not that I have change in my wallet anyway. There’s a coffee shop across the street, but the owner goes nuts about people asking to use his phone or his restroom if you don’t buy anything. I don’t have enough hands to carry a drink I don’t want. The tears have really started to flow now.

I think about going back upstairs to use Suz’s phone, but I just can’t face her and her indifference. No, I need to do this on my own. I decide to make a run for the coffee shop, and I’ll just buy a tea to use the phone.

I’m near the entrance when I see a guy walking out of the shop, nice and dry under his golf umbrella. With nothing left to lose, I call out to him, “Excuse me?”

He turns toward me, and I see he’s in a tuxedo—tails, no less. “Can I help you?” he asks, dubious.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but would you happen to have a phone I could borrow? I just had a bad breakup, and I was supposed to call my friend to come get me, but I left my phone at work,” I beg.

He takes in my bags, poor imprisoned kitty and my drenched appearance, and figuring I’m safe, he walks toward me. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his phone. “Here,” he says, handing me the phone.

As he looks at me and I see his face, I feel an intense sensation of déjà vu. But I’ve never seen this guy before in my life. I set the suitcase down, take the phone from him and dial Abby’s number. She finally answers on the fourth ring. After a brief explanation of why I’m calling from a strange number, I quickly ask her to pick me up and she says she’ll be here in ten minutes. I hang up and hand the phone back to him.

“Thanks,” I say, wiping at the wet hair plastered to my forehead. I’m still unable to shake the feeling that I know him from somewhere.

“No problem. Would you like me to wait with you until your friend gets here?” he offers.

I notice he’s stepped closer to me while I was on the phone such that Shelley and I are now mostly covered by his umbrella. “Um… No, that’s okay. I’ll just wait in the coffee shop.”

“If you’re sure,” he replies. “Let me at least walk you to the shop so you don’t get even more soaked.”

We walk the half-block to the shop door, and I thank him. He turns to leave, and I realize I don’t even know his name. I shrug, then set my suitcase, tote bag and cat down at a table. I walk to the counter to order something, then the world comes to a complete halt. I can only vaguely hear the owner’s protests at my having brought a cat into his restaurant. I turn back toward the entrance, and I know what I must do.

I turn toward the older woman at the table next to where Shelley is meyowling in her crate. “It’s an emergency. I’ll be right back. Can you please watch my stuff?”

Without waiting for a response, I step back out in the rain and see him standing at the crosswalk a block away. I break into a run, shoes flinging water on the back of my pants. I’m silently praying the light doesn’t change before I get there. I take a brief look before I cross the first intersection and even though it says, “Don’t Walk,” I run across anyway. I’m halfway down the next block when I see the crosswalk signal change. He starts striding purposefully across the street, completely unaware I’m chasing him.

I somehow manage to make it across before the light changes again. I’m getting closer. Only a few feet left.

“Hey!” I call out, slowing to a walk. Since he’s the only one on this side of the street, he turns around slowly.

I step up to him and hear my heart pounding in my chest. I know it’s not just from the run. I hesitate ever so slightly. But I know I must do this or I will regret it forever.

He looks at me questioningly. “Did you need to make another call?”

“No,” I reply, shaking my head.

I look into his eyes one more second before grabbing his lapels and pulling him into a kiss.