Just One Click

Just One Click

    Triggers: Narcissistic abuse, Mental illness, Language, abortion, suggestions of violence 

Lacy Carpenter sits at her computer desk/vanity eating a microwaved TV dinner. She takes the last bite, then dumps the empty cardboard tray into a nearby trashcan. She looks out of her Sedona apartment window and watches Spring’s new birth unfold.  Too bad, there’s no sign of life in here, she sighs, looking at the dull dwellings and the shriveled-up cactus on the windowsill.

     She rolls her chair up to the computer, catching her reflection in a large makeup mirror in the process. She can’t help but be startled by the pale face, dry, cracked lips, and dull dark eyes, staring back at her. She presses down on the mousy-brown, ratted hair piled high on her head as if trying to tame her wild and careless appearance. She looks down at her drab, grey sweatshirt and matching sweatpants and sighs, realizing the only color in her ensemble are the new enchilada stains on the front of her shirt.

      “You’ve really let yourself go, girl; no wonder you haven’t had a date in years,” she says to the reflection. She takes the small throw blanket from her lap and tosses it over the mirror.

        While searching social media, a new friend request pops up. She does a double take. No way, can’t be, must be a hacker, she thinks, staring at the profile picture of her ex-fiancé, Paul Shaddock. After carefully reviewing the profile, she reaches the conclusion…Yep, that’s him alright.

      She stares into the hazel eyes in the picture. “So, now you want to be friends, huh?” she asks the familiar, but slightly older-looking man staring back at her. Lacy watches the cursor bounce back and forth above the buttons, ACCEPT/ DECLINE, then pauses to remember the intimacy they once shared. “Boy, I must say, you’re as good lookin' as ever,” she admits, licking her dry lips.

    A sudden and painful memory takes her back, back to when Paul not only broke off their engagement but broke her heart as well. She can feel the rage she’s managed to suppress the last four years begin to resurface. She can feel her face flush with anger just thinking back to what he put her through.

     Nature’s adrenalin begins to rise, causing her pupils to dilate while her eyes grow narrower and narrower until becoming thin black slits. She watches the cursor hover over DECLINE. But just as she starts to click the button, she receives a new email that catches her eye. Intrigued, she directs the cursor to click it open, revealing the following message …

     Lacy,

     I hope this is still your email and that you’re doing good. I’m so sorry for how I treated you in the past and I know you’re probably still hurt and angry. But I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, if only you could find it in your heart to forgive me and take me back.

   Rhonda and I recently divorced; the main reason was because she didn’t want to ever have children. I, on the other hand, have had a change of heart, and I’m ready to become a father, the sooner the better. 

   Lacy shuns away from the message... “So now, you’re ready to be a father?” she scoffs, then forces herself to continue reading…

     I’m in Sedona now, visiting my mother. I want to move back here – back to the place I call ‘home’ but that depends on you.

    I just sent you a friend request. If your answer is NO and don’t want anything to do with me, or if you’ve moved on with someone else, I understand and don’t blame you just click DECLINE and I’ll disappear and never bother you again. But, if you forgive me, and want to give me another chance, then boy do I have a great deal for you! All you have to do is click ACCEPT and I’ll be at your apartment in exactly 23 minutes with your favorite Thai dish from Nick’s and your engagement ring and we’ll seal the deal with a long overdue and passionate kiss- assuming you still live on Oakview? Hope and pray to see you soon!

All my love,

Paul

     Lacy glares at her ex’s profile photo. “You had ‘a great deal’… me, but you fucked it up, you narcissistic jerk!”

     A sudden and unexpected wave of emotion begins to course through Lacy’s frigid body replacing hostility with lust, leaving her to ponder…Is romantic anticipation alone a good enough reason to click ACCEPT? No, wait - you’ll appear as desperate as you are. Let lover boy do the pining for a change, she convinces herself, then removes her hand from the mouse. She lifts the blanket off the mirror and grimaces.

    “It’s going to take a fucking miracle to make YOU presentable,” she says, pointing to the reflection, letting the blanket fall back in place.

    She pushes away from her computer and heads into the bathroom, anxious to get ready for what she hopes to be a night of passionate reconciliation. Left displayed on her computer is Paul’s friendship request, the cursor now hovering in-between ACCEPT/DECLINE.

*

     Lacy, wearing only a terrycloth bath wrap, stares through the clear, head-size circle of the otherwise fogged bathroom mirror.  “Just who are you and what did you do with Lacy?” she asks the stunning female with high rosy cheekbones and tulip-shaped lips. Her eyes, blinking in tandem with the mysterious smokey ones with telescopic lashes staring back at her. She turns away from the mirror and heads toward the bedroom.

   “Now, what to wear?” she asks out loud, surveying the neglected outfits in her closet, her eyes finally zeroing in on a little black strapless dress. “You’ll do just fine,” she says, yanking it off the silk padded hanger. Just as she starts to slip into the slinky little number, a big white Lingerie box on the top shelf catches her eye. She lays the garment over her shoulder and reaches for the box, but she is forced to stand on her tiptoes to retrieve it. Once in her grasp, she gently lays the box on the unmade bed but freezes and stares at the alarm clock on the bedside table…You don’t have time for this, Paul’s waiting.  But the voice inside her head speaks up.. How long have you waited for him, Lacy? “Yeah, let that bastard do the waiting for a change,” she says out loud, then quickly lifts the lid, exposing the contents, consisting of a long champagne-colored wedding gown, blue garter belt, a letter address to Lacy from Paul, a cancelled check for twelve-hundred dollars, and a picture of an embryonic ultrasound.

      Lacy’s demeanor suddenly changes. Her face grows pale. The once tulip-shaped lips, now tightly pursed, resembling that of a rose bud.

      She unwraps the bath wrap and lets it as well as the little black dress fall gracefully to the floor. She carefully unfolds the wedding gown from the box, steps into it, and pulls it up over her naked body. The many years of desserts have added a few pounds, seventeen to be exact and she’s unable to zip the dress all the way up, leaving it gaping in the back. She slides the blue garter slowly and methodically up her leg. “Paul will enjoy this,” she says, snapping the garter as it reaches her thigh.

    Lacy’s attention is drawn back to the remaining items in the box. She picks up the picture of the embryonic ultrasound. Her tear-filled eyes can’t help but stare at the kidney bean-size and shaped image. She gently lays the ultrasonogram on the bed, opens the letter, and takes a deep breath before reading it, again…

   Lacy,

  I don’t know where to start except to say that there’s a part of me that will always love you. But unfortunately, love doesn’t change everything.

   I told you from the start, that I was not ready to become a father, not now, maybe never. I feel like you lied to me, because I was under the impression that you were using birth control every time, but your excitement over this “accident” tells me otherwise.

  If we have any chance of moving forward with marriage, I’m going to insist that you use the enclosed check to fix our “little problem.” Furthermore, this payment will be the extent of my responsibility and financial obligation in the matter. If you choose not to do as I’ve asked, and carry this to fruition, then kindly send my ring to my mother’s house and I will have her mail it to me.

 Lacy, our future is in your hands. Contact me only if and when you’ve done what I’ve asked of you.

Love,

Paul

*

    Lacy closes her tear-filled eyes, squishing them out and down her cheeks. Her mind flashes back to the day that she made a decision that would end one life and change hers forever…

   She can still feel the coldness of the doctor’s hands even through his bloody rubber gloves. Although she tries to block out the horrific sounds of the procedure, her body, mind, heart, and soul won’t let her forget the excruciating pain she experienced, both inside and out.

      She wipes tears off her cheeks, opens her bedside table drawer, and retrieves a floral printed DIARY. She turns the page to a written entry, dated April 8, 2017.

    Paul, I stopped a heartbeat today, and you weren’t even there to hold me, console me. It’s as though you don’t care. Lacy turns the page to the entry dated April 17, 2017.

  Paul, I did what you wanted so why are you avoiding me? I don’t even know if we’re still engaged. My mom’s asking about wedding plans. Lacy turns a few more pages to an entry dated May 4, 2017; the penmanship looks more like chicken scratch.

   Paul, it was so nice of you to inform me today that our engagement is officially off and you’re moving back to Miami. I assume to move back in with your BITCH, Rhonda!

    Lacy flips through page after page after page before her eyes land on the entry dated October 12, 2018.

    Paul, I wish I could say that I hope you and Rhonda are doing well. Like that’s ever going to happen.

   Well, I just returned from my gynecologist’s office, and guess what she told me? She said that the procedure, you know, the one you forced me to have and paid for, well, she said I should sue the doctor that did it for malpractice because it has rendered me virtually infertile. That’s right, STERILE- at the ripe old age of 28!!!!! SO, GO TO HELL, YOU BASTARD!

     Lacy slams the diary closed, picks up the ultrasound picture and kisses it. “Mama’s sorry,” she whispers, gently laying it back in the box. She rips Paul’s letter and the cancelled check into tiny pieces, throws them up in the air, and watches the little strips flutter back down, then exits the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She sashays into the kitchen, the gown’s elaborate train sweeping the floor with each graceful step. She approaches a drawer next to the stove and retrieves a floral designed carving knife with safety blade cover attached. She slides the cover off the blade to inspect its effectiveness. “Oh yeah, you’ll do just fine,” she says maniacally. Seemingly satisfied with her choice, she slides the cover back over the blade and twirls and swirls her way into her office. She sits back down at her computer. Still there is Paul’s social media profile – still awaiting her reply. She raises up her wedding gown and carefully slides the carving knife under her blue garter. She picks up her cell phone already on the desk and sets the timer to exactly twenty-three minutes.  

      Lacy stares seductively at Paul’s profile picture. “Alright, Paul, I’ll accept the great deal you have for me – as long as I can cut a deal for you,” she says, giggling maniacally. Lacy reaches for the mouse and without hesitation, the cursor now under her complete control, clicks ACCEPT.

THE END