If You Only Knew

by Charmaine Villamin

 

I have a problem.

Not a big one. I’m not going to get evicted. I don’t have a terminal disease. Nothing of the sort. A slight hiccup, I shall call it.

It dawned on me while I was brushing off red velvet crumbs which had fallen onto my dress. My sister, Lana, sat across me as we tried various wedding cakes at a shop called What The Crumb. It’s the worst bakery name ever. However, the owner was our cousin, Marvin, and we said we’d do him a favour.

The narrow brick building was wedged in between a laundromat and a Chinese takeout place popular amongst college students from UIC. They come here to escape the campus. I couldn’t blame them. I used to do the same thing.

The shop’s glory days was in the 90s when it was a bridal store with intricate cream wallpaper and plush carpeting. Marvin had made use of secondhand furniture he bought from yard sales. The tables and chairs are old but they have marble tops with swirls of grey and black supported by heavy, black steel curves. A long glass counter rests at the back to display the cakes. The vase of fresh sunflowers by the corner was the only dash of colour in the shop beside the cake frosting. They were starting to wilt.

With the morning light peeking through the glass, it didn’t look half bad. He did his best.

Back to my problem.

“Don’t be upset. Before I go, I need to tell you something,” I said, brushing off the last of the crumbs.

“When you say shit like that, I’m already prepared to be upset. Please don’t tell me someone screwed up.”

I grabbed the white napkin resting on the table.

“No… Your wedding is going to be perfect. I’ve settled the payment with the caterer. The dresses are about to be delivered to the bridesmaids. It’s about me.”

“What about you?” she said slowly, still cautious. Her eyes were bulging. Something that happens when she gets spooked.

“I got dumped so… Surprise! You have to arrange the seating chart again because I don’t have a date.” As I reached the end of my sentence, my voice started shaking. I realised there was a chance I might start crying inside a cake shop. I’ve become a cliché.

I blinked fast to counter the hot tears threatening to spill. I tried my hardest to look interested in my slate grey napkin so Lana won’t notice.

Of course, she did.

“Is this linen? We have to ask Marv where he got these. They’re beautiful,” I said.

She patted my arm in a perfectly-practiced comforting manner. That’s what big sisters are for. It was the pat that got me through Rick Davis dumping me for Beth Cassidy. Mom and Dad’s divorce. It’s the soothing rhythm that got me through the aftermath of the accident.

“You know, you don’t have to worry about it. Albert was weird. Remember the time when…? Anyway, you could do so much better. Now, you can meet someone at the wedding,” she said. I knew she was trying to cheer me up but sometimes her optimism gets on my nerves.

I stuffed another piece of dessert in my mouth. This is the winner, I decided. Carrot cake with the best vanilla buttercream frosting topped with just a slight flavour of cinnamon.

“Wanna bet I won’t?” I replied.

She shot me a glare. “It’s because you make such a big deal of socialising.”

“Debatable.”

“The problem is you hate people,” Lana said.

“I don’t hate people,” I argued. I don’t, I just can’t stand being around them.

“You use the side entrance of the mall.”

“So?”

“Nobody goes through there except the delivery guys and the trucks. It leads straight to the parking lot.”

I unfolded the napkin before resting it on my lap. “I see your point.”

Lana sighed. “Look, I know it’s tough to get back out the–”

“Let’s not talk about that.”

My fingers fiddled with the corners of the white cloth. It has such a beautiful teal and gold trim.

“But you have to. You can’t be scared of people. Men, in particular.”

She reached for my hand and I quickly pulled it away.

“I’m not scared of people. If I was, I wouldn’t be outside.”

My sister didn’t need to know that it took an hour for me to reconcile with the fact that I had to step out of the house today. Putting on my shoes five times before taking them off again would seem insane to her.

“I’m just worried about you Cynth, I haven’t seen you in weeks. You never call our parents. What have you been up to?”

“Things. I’ve been super busy lately.” I folded the napkin and laid the ivory square on the table. Marvin did a good job of picking these. They were soft and light.

I beamed at her. There was skepticism in her gaze but she didn’t say anything else. She was distracted by the door bell, followed by the creaky sound of the hinges. Marvin needs to get that fixed.

“Jack!” she exclaimed.

My head snapped up. A young man in his late twenties walked in with a wide smile. My breath hitched. There he was, standing a few feet away from me. A vision of virile arrogance.

“Hey there, dork!” he greeted me.

The years had done him good. His face was more masculine, the traces of boyhood almost gone. The laugh lines around his eyes made him more approachable and from what I could tell, he’s been visiting the gym recently. What’s a young lawyer supposed to do with his free time anyway?

Back in high school, Jack had a harsh face. Puckered lips and squinted eyes. I looked up at him and remembered the one summer he shot up to the ceiling and from then on had a problem of keeping weight on.

“Fuck off, spaz,” I snapped.

Lana slapped my arm and I saw Jack’s eyes widened before he burst into loud laughter.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, staring straight into my eyes, not dropping the smile. Lana stood up to give him a hug and murmuring she was glad he could make it.

I never knew he was invited.

The suffocating fog that clouds me when I’m stuck in a crowd was starting to appear. I wasn’t prepared for this. Neither of them noticed my discomfort.

Jack was supposed to be in New York. Not here in Morris, Illinois.

New York. New York. New York.

“Sorry to cut the reunion short but why are you here?” I asked, the napkin was back in my hand.

I had a sudden suspicion that the reason my sister wanted to go cake tasting today wasn’t because she wanted my company. She wanted me and Jack to meet on neutral ground. This was confirmed when I saw her mouth set in a straight line.

“I’m here for the wedding,” he said, completely unfazed by my rude tone. Jack sat down beside me.

I scooted away from him.

“Aren’t lawyers incredibly busy or do they just not trust you at the firm?”

He turned to Lana. “Is it just me or does it feel like Cynthia doesn’t want me here?”

Lana’s twinkling, feminine laugh filled the air. I snorted and looked out the window, watching the several taxis go past. “All of us have managed just fine without you.”

The whole table fell silent. It was moments after before I realised what I had said.

I whipped my head back to look at both of them. My sister’s prominent scowl wasn’t a surprise but the sudden hurt on Jack’s certainly was. He stood up, flashing me another smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I can take a hint. I’m going out for a smoke. Lana, call me when the other cakes are ready?”

Lana nodded before shooting me a glare. The door slammed behind him and the bell’s high pitched twinkling seemed to mock me.

“That went well,” she commented.

“You want me to apologise?”

She crossed her arms and one of her brows rose as if to say, what do you think?

“Fine. I’ll say sorry before I head home.” I leaned in to give her a peck. “I’ll call you.”

“Make sure you do.”

“By the way, I liked the carrot cake the best,” I offered as I grabbed my red coat.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, shooing me away.

I stepped through the green door and breathed deeply. The brisk, cold Illinois air hurt my lungs but it was refreshing compared to the musk of the shop. Its icy sharpness hit my face instantly. I sank deeper into my coat. Screw the weatherman who said it was already spring. Mother nature decides when it’s spring.

I spotted him immediately. He was leaning against the concrete wall of the Chinese place. He shot me a smirk when he saw me before blowing a cloud of smoke on my face as I neared.

I pulled the lit cigarette out of his mouth, threw it on the ground before I crushed it with my boot.

“Geez, you’re an adult. The stuff’s bad for you.”

“Hey!” he yelled, loud enough for people to stare. “You have no right. I bought that with my own money.”

I shot an apologetic smile at the strangers, a young couple that just came out of the laundromat.

“Of course you did. I’d never expect one of your pretty girlfriends to fund your smoking habit.”

He frowned. “Just because you’re alone and miserable, doesn’t mean you have to drag all of us down with you.”

I flinched but put on a smile.

“I did have a boyfriend, for your information.”

“Did, is the keyword here.”

“Now the lawyer thing makes sense. You’ve just turned arguing into a living.”

“I also see how you’ve become a writer since you were always a sickly mole person.”

Only a few moments in Jack’s company had already given me homicidal thoughts.

I watched him for a second. He was digging his hands into his beat-up brown jacket that he’s owned forever. Every breath he took created a rivulet of wispy smoke from his rosy lips. A casual black scarf was draped around his long neck. Although everything had changed, Jack was still constant. He looks different, sure, but it all felt the same.

Funny enough, I could pinpoint the last time he had his gaze far away while he waited for me to apologise. It was at the O’Hare International Airport just as he was about to leave for New York. That was a decade ago.

“I’m sorry, about just now. Never expected to see you is all,” I said. A half-assed apology is all he’ll get.

He stared at me for the longest time before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not a problem. You’ve always been a bit prickly.”

“Sensitive is the appropriate word.”

“Whatever. We’re going to have to get along for the duration of the wedding. For Lana and Freddy. What do you think of a truce?”

It was my turn to shrug. “Works for me,” I said.

“How’s the publishing business going?” he asked, lighting up another cigarette. My fingers itched to pull it out of his mouth again but I had a strong feeling it’s going to turn into another argument.

“Never knew you’d be so interested in my life.”

“I’m not. I just hate silence,” he blew another ring. This time, away from me.

“It’s going great,” I said. I watched the kids across the street kick around a soccer ball. The smallest kid was showing off his dribbling skills.

The black and white sphere jumped up and down.

He laughed. “Liar.”

“Why would I be lying, Jon?”

“I see criminals lie through their teeth everyday. You look as guilty as any of them sons of bitches on the defence. So, want to tell me what’s actually happening with your life?”

He didn’t take the bait. He hated being called Jon. Insisted on being called Jack since we were kids. It makes sense once you find out his family name is Denver. His parents had a real sense of humor.

I risked peeking at him. I was surprised to see his eyes were on my face, studying me intently. I imagine him in court, giving the same look to criminals on the stand. It’s quite intimidating. If I didn’t have years of experience, I might have caved in.

“You’re not interested,” I insisted.

“The lie piqued my curiosity. There’s always a great story behind a lie.”

I shook my head. “Not always. I’m done talking to you. It’s so nice to see you again, Jack.”

I saw my bus pulling in at the opposite stop.

He smiled, giving me a two finger salute. “Nice to see you too, Cyn.”

Eager to run away from that unsettling encounter, I ran across the street to catch my bus.

“Until next time!” he yelled, his voice echoing down the street.

I flipped him the bird. The bus driver yelled, “Hurry up!”

I walked quickly to the back of the bus, taking a seat on the left so I can have a view. I pushed away thoughts that were starting to creep back. On the grimy window, I watched the speck of him becoming more minuscule… Yes, Jack is back.

The sentiment bouncing up and down my head like a soccer ball while the bus sped its way through downtown.