Teaching willow session.., p.7
Teaching Willow: Session Three, page 7
I watch him for a few seconds more, a combination of fear, sadness, resolve and relief swimming through me. Then, not even speaking to the girl who has finally raised her head to look at my dead father, I turn around and make my way back out to the waiting cab.
“Where to?” the cabby asks when I slide stiffly inside.
“Home.” That’s all I can afford to think of right now.
THIRTEEN- WILLOW
Wednesday ushers in gray skies and rain. It matches my mood perfectly.
I slept very little. After leaving Tiffany’s, I debated going to Ebon’s. To say what, I don’t know. To beg for forgiveness? To somehow convey to him how very sorry I am? To see him one last time? Or maybe just to test the waters? I don’t know. But I figured showing up on his doorstep in the middle of the night probably wouldn’t win me any points, so as difficult as it was, I waited until today.
It’s just past dawn, although it’s not much lighter than dusk, what with all the clouds hanging over my head. The street lamp is on and I can see Ebon’s living room light shining softly onto the curb in front of which I parked.
I consider calling him instead, but that’s not an option. When my parents wouldn’t give me any space and kept leaving me shitty voice mails, I threw my phone against the bedroom wall. It smashed into a zillion pieces and unfortunately, I didn’t even think to dig my “Sage” phone out of my underwear drawer where I hid it. So, for the moment, I’m phoneless. It’s this or nothing. Do or die.
I wait for a few seconds, bolstering my courage, willing myself not to cry like a crazy person, before I exit the car and make my way up the walk to the porch. I duck quickly under the overhang and tap the doorbell. For some reason, knocking seems too familiar, too intimate. Even after all we’ve shared, I feel like it would somehow be an insult to treat him like we know each other so well. In some ways we do, but in so many ways we don’t. I’ve seen to that by deceiving him so thoroughly.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the sting of tears. It seems I’m always near tears lately. I guess that comes part and parcel with being a selfish, lying bitch living a life of thoughtless deceit.
My lids snap open and my breath catches in my throat when I hear the doorknob jiggle. It opens first a crack and then fully, light pouring out around the silhouette of a woman, haloing her in a golden glow.
My first instinct is to be heartbroken, heartbroken that Ebon has already moved on to someone else. But that only lasts a fraction of a second. When I see an older woman standing before me, I feel only confusion. For a moment, I consider leaning back to check the house number to make sure I’m at the right door.
Oh god, how humiliating! I think, in the event that I’ve made such a careless blunder.
“You must be Willow,” the woman says before I can panic.
My smile is hesitant. “I am.” I pause, giving her a chance to introduce herself.
She doesn’t keep me waiting long. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Willow. I’m Audrey, No-ahem, Ebon’s mother. Won’t you come in?”
To be continued…
Session Four coming May 6, 2014.
Paige James, Teaching Willow: Session Three
