Esme & John, Part 2 of 2

That night, Esme and Yolanda went out. Esme couldn’t really enjoy herself. She felt awkward and out of place. Here she was, tied to a boyfriend, and yet almost completely unattached at the heart. The feelings she had for him were complex, at best. It was difficult, and she felt the weight of it all pressing down on her. But Yolanda was busy flirting with every guy that caught her eye.

One particularly cute guy had seen them trying to take a picture of themselves with Yolanda’s phone and volunteered to take the picture instead. It opened the door, and soon Yolanda had given him her phone number and the unspoken promise of a good time. Esme did her best to appear politely interested in what he had to say, when she wasn’t. If the earth had opened up and swallowed that particular Don Juan in front of their eyes, she would have been only slightly more interested.

She pictured it momentarily. “Oh,” she would say to Yolanda, looking into a deep yawning pit that had opened before them. “There goes your latest! I wonder how far he had to fall, or if he’s still falling. I haven’t heard a crunch yet! Funny how muffled his screams got, huh?” She spent the time counting the large pores on his nose.

At the end of the night when Esme could finally persuade Yolanda to tear herself away, they got in the car to drive home. “Give me your phone,” demanded Esme. “I want to see the pictures we took!” Yolanda handed it over. “Wow, these turned out great,” Esme said, suddenly enthusiastic.

Her mind raced: Who could she share them with? “I know, let’s send them to John! I’d better call him first to see if his phone gets pictures.” It was midnight on a Friday, but Esme was sure John would still be awake. He was.

“Are you OK?” was the first thing he asked, panic in his voice.

Esme was startled. “Yeah, I’m OK,” she said. Yolanda glanced over. Esme put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered “He asked if I was OK! I can’t believe that he was so worried!” A warm feeling began to curl about her heart which she tried to shrug away. Neither one of them needed complications. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I was out with some friends,” he said. “You sure you’re OK?”

“Yup, just fine,” said Esme awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“No problem, hon. Sorry. I guess I overreacted,” said John heavily.

“No, no, it’s very sweet of you! I really, really appreciate your being worried about me. I, er… I was just calling to see if your phone gets pictures. I was going to send a couple over that we just took,” Esme replied.

“Sure!” John answered, heartily. “Send em over!” In a few minutes he called back. “Wow, those are great, you look hot,” he said. Esme knew it. She was a tiny bit vain, and she had looked especially nice that night. They talked a little more about his evening out and the friends he was with, and then he asked to speak with Yolanda.

“Hey there,” Yolanda said, taking the phone. She began giggling. “I know, I’m with you. I don’t know what she sees in him,” she said, dramatically flipping her hair back as if he were there in person. “Yeah, you and me both,” she continued, shooting an arch sideways glance at Esme. “I’ve been trying to get her to ditch him for years!”

“Uh, that’s enough, you two,” groaned Esme. “Leave me outta this conversation.” Yolanda ignored her and kept chatting. She suggested they all meet for breakfast somewhere. John sounded enthusiastic about it, from the direction the conversation was taking. After a while, Esme wrestled the phone out of her hands.

“John, I can’t. You know I have to be home. He’ll wonder where I am if I’m not home soon,” she said.

“Why do you care so much about what he thinks?” asked John, exasperated.

“Well, maybe after six years I’m in a rut!” she snapped.

“I have eggs, I have bacon, I have a couch for Yolanda and you can snuggle with me,” John said. “I’ll take you home in the morning.”

“What? No way! You know I couldn’t do that,” Esme answered. John was slurring slightly and sounded a little drunk. She chalked it up to that.

“OK, baby,” he said. “Whatever you want. Maybe I’ll catch ya tomorrow?”

“Sure,” said Esme, glaring at Yolanda. “Sounds good!” Yolanda giggled and stuck her tongue out. Esme made a face at her.

John and Esme said their goodnights and hung up. But just as they pulled up to Esme’s home, the phone rang again. “It’s John!” said Esme, surprised, as she answered the phone. “Hey hon, whatcha need?”

This time John sounded completely sober. “I’m going to take a chance and go out on a limb, here,” he said. “Leave him, come to me. You can choose between a worthless leech, or a guy who works hard and cares about you. Come over, right now. Come home to me.”

Esme swallowed. “Oh John,” she said, reluctantly. “I can’t. I just can’t. Not tonight.”

“OK,” said John softly. “I understand.” And that was the end of it.

Esme walked up the driveway. Under the starlight, everything had a surreal look. The trees rustled their black leaves in the slight breeze. It all seemed to be quietly awaiting a change of mind.

“I’ll put off any decisions until tomorrow. Maybe next week,” rationalized Esme. “I wonder if he’ll remember what he said tonight.” She was worried he would. Then she worried he wouldn’t.

She stepped onto the unlit porch, unlocked the door, and walked in.

c. 2006