Thank You

“Thank you, it’s just what I wanted,” she said.

I barely heard her from the other room. It was eight days before Christmas, I wasn’t a full time alcoholic yet, I just started developing tinnitus, I had a band-aid on my neck from when I cut myself shaving 10 minutes ago, I was still believing that things were going to get better, but unbeknownst to me this was the best my life was going to get. I stood up from the foot of the bed and hastily made my way to the living room. I had just finished putting on the clothes she had laid out for me - a crisp ironed white collared shirt, pressed black slacks and warm soft black socks fresh from the dryer.

Daisy was never one to wait for important dates for anything, she lived how she wanted to live. The Christmas tree in our living room had been up since the day after Halloween. We bought it from the store and she immediately put it up when we got home- lights, decorations, tiny trinkets, shiny silver and blue garland. She worked hard on putting it up, taking time and care into it to make it special and rival an expensive department store window that you’d walk past on a blustery cold day in Chicago. Friends and family who dropped in during the months November and December of that year made many encouraging comments about it. 

I walked into the living room, she gave me a great big hug and a tiny kiss on the lips. I looked over her shoulder and discarded on the floor was the wrapping paper, the two types of wrapping paper I had to use since the box was so big. One paper was mostly white that had pictures Santa riding on a sleigh and the other paper was mostly blue with pictures of cartoon dogs from a kid’s television show that was popular that year. The crumpled paper just laid in a neat pile on the floor. The Christmas tree was to my right, next to the brown fluffy loveseat I recently acquired in the divorce. 

She excitedly removed it from the box, the packing contents broke into tiny little pieces and provided a light dusting of white Styrofoam on the faux hardwood floor, dusting that rivaled the snow-covered driveway and sidewalk outside of our two-bedroom first floor apartment.

“You really listened Charlie,” she said. “I had one of these before and I loved it.” She spun up a story from her past that I’ve heard two or three times before. She removed the other pieces from the tall box that measured up to her waist. She began to assemble it, wearing a gray Adidas tennis dress and a smile lit up the room. She sang songs, happy songs. The Styrofoam began to break and cover the floor, the wind howled and rattled the glass patio door, eight days later it would be Christmas and this was the only gift I bought her. 

The Blue Dress

A few days later I bought her a blue dress, it was by some designer I know nothing about. I had to go into some store I’ve never been in before to buy it. The dress was embellished nicely, modern and classic at the same time. I picked the dress off a rack in the back of the store. She opened the dress at approximately 2 p.m. on Christmas afternoon, after that we went to a Casino, drank beers, lost money and made love.

Many months passed, I forgot about the dress, she forgot about the dress, we both forgot about each other. Life goes on.

I saw her at work the other day-in the blue dress; she was fixing herself in a mirror. She tussled her hair, pushed her lips out when applying lip stick. She was happy, she was singing, she had a glow people get when they are in love, the flushed skin, the tiny details in their walk that don't normally present themselves. It's always the smallest things that are the biggest clues. Here is my ex-lover that I am in love with now. From the other end of the hallway she turned towards me and said 'Hi."

She looked beautiful. I started to hallucinate happiness, warmth, joy - time stopped, I was overwhelmed with the songs and beats, tempos and rhythms -the things you hear when you are in love, or it could of been the tinnitus. The colors popped brighter and for that one moment everything in the universe stopped just to stare at her. The stars in the sky, the plankton in the sea all stopped for that moment. I asked her "Is that a new dress?

The blue dress looked wonderful on her, she walked confidently, taking the time to step one leg in front of the other. She had amazing legs. The dress had a V neck cut in the front and she wore a nice shirt that complimented her olive tan skin. I felt like a boxer getting punched in the face for the first time in a fight. My guard was always up, until it wasn't. She walked past me and said "No, I've worn this before, you just never see me in it, you got to visit me on the floor more often."

The sad truth is I had seen her in it before, two times I saw her wearing it at work. Each time I saw her in the blue dress I was drunk. I had to drink more those days because I was feeling terrible. "You look really nice today," effortlessly escaped my lips.

"Thank you," she said as she looked down to the heavily worn carpet in the common employee only area. She continued to walk towards me with her head down and then past me. I followed her out of the employee dining area and to the main floor, then at the top of the stairs she turned and said "Have a nice thanksgiving, Say Hi to your mom for me - Goodbye Charlie. "