Anne
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I coughed into the sleeve of my coat, gently at first but working into a loud wheeze, then walked forward, hugging myself against the cold breath of January. I comforted myself by remembering that at least it wasn't snowing. Snow, I had decided, was the most terrifying thing in the world.
Despite the chilliness the evening air was still, like a calm and collected yet brisk and distant woman whom you wished dearly you were on good terms with. I came to an old wooden bench which sat in front of an old sidewalk that desperately needed replacing, then sat on it and waited. I coughed again, shaking myself as I did so. After seconds of not being able to breathe through the coughs I gasped and sucked in air as though I'd had something in my throat.
He should be here now, I thought to myself after several minutes of waiting. I looked up and down the road. To my left were a few children shouting happily and playing with a ball in the street, which might have been a problem if anyone ever used this road except to go home; to my right I saw a few houses, which were by no means cookie-cutter but somehow all looked exactly the same: they all had a few children's toys in the yard, they were all just barely tidy enough to still look pleasing to the eye, they all grabbed you in a maternal hug that cried out home. But neither way showed the little white car that meant I could return to my home. I sighed and looked up at the sky. The sun had just set, leaving the sky an attractive grey-blue. It had almost started to look like a summer evening, had it not been for the cold, but snow started falling. The little white spots would've held little significance to the next person, but I looked up at them in a silent and dead-faced terror. My face said nothing to show even the slightest change in emotion -- I'd become rather good at hiding my terror of snow. This evening, however, I squirmed a bit. When they began clustering around me, I bit my lip; when they began clustering on me, I stood quickly and walked as fast as I could without running toward the road. I pulled out my phone and punched in a few numbers, then held it to my ear.
Seven dials passed before a yawn and a groggy "Hello...?" emanated from the phone.
"Were you asleep?" I nearly hissed.
"Yeah, why...?"
I rolled my eyes and took the phone away from my face momentarily to refrain from cursing so close to children. "Because it's snowing, and you're still not here," I said insultingly slowly, as though talking to a child, enunciating every word delicately.
"Oh shit, I'm sorry," the man said, and I could hear him pulling pants on. "I'll be over as soon as possible."
"Please?" It began to make formations in my hair, and I felt on the verge of tears. I leaned close into the phone and whispered, "...I'm so scared out here, Grant..."
Though I couldn't see I knew he nodded. "I'm coming." He hung up.
I looked down at my phone and nodded stiffly, then, brushing the bench off with the sleeve of my not-nearly-thick-enough-for-this-garbage coat, I sat on it and pulled my legs in tightly, hugging my knees and shutting my eyes hard. Please come soon, please come soon, please come soon...
I imagined myself in a field. It was hot, and a faceless man whom I had not yet decided the identity of lay next to me holding my hand. It's going to be okay.
I nodded, in the fantasy and then in reality, and opened my eyes to see the little white car slow down in front of me. With a quiet happiness I stood and got into the passenger side. He'd had the heater on, and I smiled. "Thank you love."
He smiled and, without taking his eyes off the road as he drove forward, wrapped an arm around me.
I smelled him. He smelled of cigarettes and sweat, and...
I glanced over at him. He had no shirt on, and his pants were buttoned stupidly. I looked up at his face, a silent and disgusted rage brewing inside me, but nevertheless smiled sweetly at him. "I missed you the last few weeks."
"I missed you too Anne. How was the interview?"
"I feel like it went okay. Salt Lake City is a big place full of people wanting the same job as I, but ARUP is also a very big laboratory. I think my chances are good."
"That's good," he said nonchalantly, as though it were no big deal.
"Yeah." I looked up at him. "How was the whore you slept with instead of picking me up?"
"She was oka---" He tensed up, turned red, and refused to look at me.
I chuckled in disbelief. "Wow, okay then..."
"Anne, you've been gone for two weeks---"
"And in the two years we've dated how many times have we slept to-gether?"
He said nothing.
"...That wasn't a rhetorical question Grant. How many times?"
He sighed. "None."
"So why would my being gone for two weeks mean you had to sleep with a whore?"
He sighed again and said nothing.
I nodded. "Okay." I opened the door and rolled out before he even had time to brake. The car was going 50, but the snow broke my fall. I looked up. He just kept driving. Didn't even bother to shut the door.
I looked at the ground and chuckled ironically. "Funny," I said aloud, "that after all this time I can trust you more than him." I lay down in the pile of snow, horrified at it, yet numb at the same time. Why not?
After a few moments of indulging in self-pity I pulled out my phone. "Hey, mom. Yeah, finally got him go confess to it. ...Well, only this time, but it was enough. Can you pick me up? ...No, I've no idea where, but I think you can just track my phone. Thanks mom. I love you. Bye." I hung up and decided I needed music to celebrate this momentous occasion. I looked through my phone and picked "Hoodoo" by Muse, then lay back down in the wretched, horrible, terrifying, amazing snow.
