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By @Madison
Of course
I don’t have that much time for self-reflection
Given the fact that Izzy just burst through the door.
As soon as she’s inside
She’s bombarding me with questions of her own
Every one of which I undoubtedly deserve.
Oh, yeah
She’s in a real tizzy
Spitting out inquiries faster than I can process them.
“What happened? Where have you been? Who was that boy? What in the world, Candace?”
Reaching deep within me to find my long-lost sense of responsibility
I do my best to answer all of them.
“I panicked and left. I came straight home to wait for you. That was my friend, Levi DeLuca.”
She freezes
Recognition dawning on her face.
“Levi DeLuca? The Culpepper’s guy?”
Her anger resurfaces
Thinly masking what I think is hurt.
“You called one of your suitors before you called me?”
Rather than finding humor in her all-too-eloquent word choices
I gulp
Before continuing to try to explain myself.
“You were at work. I was scared to call you.”
Though she looks like she wants to scream at me
Izzy’s face falls
As quick as the drop of a pen.
“Scared?”
Her voice softens
Her hurt taking center stage now.
“You’re scared of me, Candace?”
Every word that leaves her mouth trembles
Punctuated by eyes damp with unshed tears.
My heart sinks
Fearing the damage I might have done.
“How could you…”
She can’t finish her sentence
Before she chokes on a sob.
She reaches up to her hair
Tugs at the tawny tresses.
“I hope you know I’m not– I’m not some sort of monster– I wouldn’t force my kid to get an abortion she didn’t want– Candace, why?”
She turns her back to me
Gripping the kitchen counter
Her shoulders beginning to shake.
I want so badly to walk up to her
And wrap her in a comforting embrace.
Except
I’m afraid she won’t hug me back.
Except
Though I know she would be shattered if she knew
Deep down
There’s an intristic part of me
That fears
Some instinctual switch might flip
And make Izzy betray me
Beat me down
Just like Vanessa did.
Just like I fear I will one day.
I so badly want someone else here right now
To help the two of us out of this turbulent sea of emotions
To guide us toward effective conversation.
I silently wish for Alex
Levi
Even Todd
Should he secretly possess some conflict resolution skills
When he isn’t just trying to get someone to jump into bed with him.
None of them show up, of course
Probably because my real life fairy godmother
Is hunched over the kitchen sink
Crying her eyes out.
I try to lift her back up
Only to have my voice break as well.
“Izzy,” I manage through a dam of tears.
She collects herself
Enough to turn around and face me.
I’m pained by the fact
That this seems to pain her
Even more than me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
Now there’s one hell of a truth.
“Please, Izzy. Please forgive me. I can’t stand for you to be mad at me.”
She sighs
Wiping a few tears away.
“I’m not mad at you, Candace,” she says.
“I’m upset, of course. Disheartened, definitely. But not mad.”
I try my best not to flinch at her words
Vaguely reminded of the glint in my dream little boy’s eyes
Before she continues.
“I’m mostly scared,” she says.
“I never expected this to happen, and, now that it’s happening, I have no idea what to do. And that terrifies me.”
She pauses
Interrupted by a coughing noise.
Expecting her to be in the midst of another crying fit
I look up from my feet
Only to find her…
Laughing?
Surely enough
She’s laughing her skinny little butt off
Slapping her knee all the while.
In spite of the situation
I find myself laughing along with her
Both at the absurd turn of events
And how ridiculous her laugh sounds
When she’s also crying and snotting.
“God, Candace,” she cackles.
“You’re always scaring the **** out of me!”
This sends us into another fit of chortles
Because we both know that she never curses.
Once we’re both somewhat composed
Izzy reaches into the cabinet for a glass
And pours herself a generous helping of red wine.
Once it’s filled to the brim
We take seats across from each other at the table.
Finally, we seem to be able to talk to each other for real.
Though this should be a relief
My stomach churns.
I have no clue what happens next
And, as she previously stated
Neither does Izzy.
Truth be told, that’s more than scary.
After taking a hefty sip from her glass
Izzy goes straight for the jugular
Hitting me with the million dollar question
Right off the bat.
“Candace,” she begins.
“Do you really believe you’re ready to have a baby?”
I sit frozen.
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
All these answers swimming in my head
I open my mouth
Only for the truth to spill out.
“I don’t know.”
Though I’m sure she’d appreciate my honesty any other time
This annoys Izzy.
She sighs
Taking another sip.
When she puts her glass back down
Her glare is steely
Dead serious.
“Get comfortable,” she says.
“We’ve got a lot of talking to do. And for every question I ask you, I expect the truth.”
I nod
Biting my tongue
Until I’m afraid it might bleed.
For all my fear of questions
I’m convinced at this point
That the answers are much scarier.
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