Only For You
It was a beautiful Spring day and Mark was on the telephone with a friend he'd known since high school.
"No, I don't really feel like coming over today," said Mark, "I have a lot to do."
"Fine Mark. Whatever you want," Stevie stated angrily, "It's just been a long time since we've spent any time together. I really want to see you."
"I know," he sympathized, "but I really need to do these things. I'm sorry Stevie."
"It's ok," she said, "I understand. But can we plan a day when we can get together?"
"Of course," he agreed, "We'll plan a good day later. Right now I have to go. Give me a call around eightish, okay?"
"Eight O'clock it is," she happily agreed.
"Alright then. I'll talk to you later. Bye," Mark finished.Then he quickly hung up the phone and walked out the door.
He walked to a nearby park and sat down at a bench that had a great view of the lake. He was obviously becoming seriously aggravated over the situation with Stevie. She wouldn't leave him alone. So he decided to avoid her phone call. He just had to figure out how to do that. He knew if he didn't find somewhere to go that he would be stuck at home. If he was stuck at home that means he'd have to answer the phone because she was probably going to be persistent by calling back over and over throughout the night and sooner or later he'd have to pick up. He doesn't want to avoid her forever. He just wants a break.
Suddenly he has an idea. He has to find a date for the night. The only problem is, who? So he thinks some more. The only female friend he has is Stevie and that is totally out of the question which means he has to be spontaneous.
He looks around and observes his options, "There's nothing but old people that come to the park, only because they have nothing better to do," he says to himself, afterward realizing he had also insulted himself.
He stands up, looks around and decides that this isn't quite the right hunting ground.
So he decides to try the pool hall, and as soon as he walks in he eyes the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Now all Romeo has to do is get her attention. How is he going to do that? The same way every man tries to get a girl's attention.
"Hey baby! Come here," he says while gesturing her to come towards him, "I want to talk to you."
She walks towards him, "you shouldn't talk to a lady like that. Their boyfriends might not appreciate it," she said in a harsh tone. Then a rather muscular guy stood up.
"Okay, I'm leaving. Goodbye," he said as he rushed out the door.
Even though it was his first try he was so humiliated that he gave up altogether. He walked down the road a little ways and came to a library. He went into the library, sat down at a table, and stared at the floor in despair.
"What's wrong?" asked a woman who had been watching him since he walked in.
He was too depressed to have noticed her. Since he did kind of need someone to talk to, he decided to talk to her. While still looking at the floor he said, "I can't seem to find a date for the night and it's really important that I do. Then again, I did give up after the first try."
"You know, I'm free for the night," She said.
"Oh you are, are you?" he said then looking up at her. She was beautiful. A childish grin rolled across his face and he quickly turned his head so she wouldn't see his sudden glow. Then he took a breath and looked back at her, "would you mind going for a walk with me around the lake tonight?"
She gleamed, "I don't know," she said sarcastically, "could we hold hands?"
"Only if you want to," he said with a smile. Then the butterflies in his stomach began fluttering frantically, "what's your name?"
"Michelle," she said. Then she got a piece of paper from her purse, wrote down her name and telephone number and handed it to him, "can I have yours?" Then she handed him the pen and gave him a blank piece of paper.
"Yes. My name's Mark and here is my telephone number, but I'll be calling you tonight," he said handing her the piece of paper with his number now written on it.
"Alright. Well, I guess I have to go home and wait for that phone call now. I'll see you tonight. Buh bye," she said, sounding exceptionally flirty.
"Bye Michelle. Go home and make yourself even more beautiful. You have a date tonight," added Mark as she was leaving.
She then turned around and blew him a kiss. He smiled as did she and he watched her walk out the door.
He called her around six o'clock and picked her up around seven. They walked to the lake from her house and sat down on a large, semi-flat rock. They talked and talked and found out they had a lot in common.
"It's so beautiful around here at twilight," Michelle sighed, "The colors dance so nicely against the tiny waves on the lake's surface."
"Yes. It's almost as beautiful as you," Mark said in a low, tender voice.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said, "I didn't say anything."
She then reached over and took his hand in her's.
He blushed and said, "There's those butterflies again."
"What?" Michelle asked.
"Nothing," he said, "you must be hearing things."
"Yes I must be," she said slyly. Then she leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek.
"How about one right here," Mark said while pointing to his lips. So she gave him a peck on the lips.
"That's all I get?" he asked.
"I don't normally kiss on the first date, but I like you, so I suppose I can make an exception," she said. Then she started to lean toward him when he met her half way and kissed her deeply and as long as she would let him. Before they knew it, it was midnight. They had been so busy with each other that they had lost track of time.
"Oh, it's late. I should go home and get some sleep. I have to work tomorrow," said Michelle.
"Me too. I'll walk you home," Mark said tiredly.
He walked her home and, of course, they wasted almost five minutes on goodnight kisses.
That night, all they could think about was each other. And the next morning was no different. Mark got up earlier than usual. He woke up twenty minutes earlier than is alarm was set to go off. He did the usual morning routine, but with a higher moral. Also, he got more done in a lot less time. And for the first time ever he was early to work which is a lot better than his usual daily lateness.
Michelle hopped out of bed as soon as her eyes opened and was more radiant than she'd ever been. When she got to work she was even complimented upon her cheery behavior.
Meanwhile, Stevie had called out sick from work because she was so worried about Mark.
That night Stevie called Mark as soon as he should have been home. There was no answer so she left a message on his answering machine, "Mark, this is Stevie," she said, "if you're home please pick up.... if not, call me as soon as you get in. It's important. I've been worried about you. Bye." Then she hung up and took a nap.
Meanwhile, Mark was at the florist ordering a dozen, long-stem, thornless, red roses for Michelle.
As the months went by, Mark and Michelle grew so close that you could call it love. About a year to the day they met, Mark had made another date with Michelle to go back to the lake where they had exchanged hearts. They went to the same rock at the same time, seven o'clock.
"Michelle, I love you," Mark said in a soft, cute voice.
"I love you too," Michelle replied.
"You know, I bought you here for a reason," he started, "I want to ask you something."
"What?" she eagerly replied.
He reached into his pocket slowly, and pulled out a small, decorative ring box, and as he got down on one knee, he started to open the box while nervously saying, "I want you to take my hand at the alter so that I may have the pleasure and the honor of calling you my wife."
She was hardly able to speak, but she managed to utter, "yes. Yes. I want that too. I love you."
"I love you too," he said with a smile as he slipped the ring on her finger.
Six months later they were wed. It was a gorgeous wedding. Everyone was there, except for one person whom had stayed home as a result of extreme jealousy. Of course that one person was Stevie.
After they got home from their honeymoon, Mark called Stevie and asked her why she didn't attend the wedding.
"Mark, I know it's too late now, but I have loved you since the day we met," Stevie said.
"No, that's called infatuation or obsession. You can't love somebody the day you meet them," he said mockingly, "Why are you telling me this?"
"I'm telling you this because you asked me why I didn't attend your wedding," she replied angrily.
"Oh yeah," said Mark, "but I don't wan to hear you say you love me. You obviously know I don't feel the same for you."
"I know," she said sadly.
"I don't pity you. You shouldn't try to make me. Anyway, if you really loved me you'd want for me to be happy, which I am," Mark stated angrily.
Now she was crying, "fine. Goodbye," she said. Then she quickly hung up on him.
He then hung up feeling no remorse. He felt more angry because in a way, she had insulted his love for Michelle. At that point, he had no intention of ever speaking to her again.
The next morning, as Mark woke up with Michelle by his side, he couldn't have been happier. He looked at her and kissed her softly on the forehead. Then he went out to the kitchen to make her and himself some breakfast.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. It was Stevie. Her eyes were filled with tears and her face was dirty. "May I come in?" she asked.
Surprised at her appearance, Mark said, "of course! What's wrong?"
As she walked into the room she said, "you know what's wrong." Then she sat on a couch that was sloppily placed in the middle of Mark's living room.
Then came a voice from the bedroom, "Mark, who's there?" said Michelle.
"It's Stevie," he replied, "c'mon out and say hi."
"Alright," Michelle said. Then she tiredly stumbled out into the living room and gave Mark a kiss on the cheek. She looked at Stevie, "What the Hell happened to you? You look like you got hit by a bus or something."
At that, Stevie stood up, balled her fists, and struck Michelle across the jaw. Mark jumped up and grabbed Stevie angrily, "what is your problem?! Why did you hit my wife? Get the fuck out of our house now!" Mark was outraged. He dragged her to the front door and shoved her out. Then he slammed the door and ran towards Michelle to see if she was alright. "Are you okay, sweetheart? Did she hurt you?" he asked sounding genuinely concerned.
"I'm fine," she said, "It was a weak hit. I'm just surprised she did that."
"Can I get you anything? Do you want ice? Should I call the police?" Mark was still worried.
"No. I said I'm fine. Don't worry," she said, giggling at his loving blind worries, "just calm down babe. I'm okay."
"Are you sure? W-what if it hurts later? It might become a bruise. Don't you think you should put ice on it?" he rambled.
"I said I'm fine. It didn't hurt at all and it won't hurt later. I don't need ice," she reassured him.
"Oh. Okay. I guess you don't want ice then," Mark continued.
"No. That's enough with the ice. I don't need ice," she finished.
"Well, is there anything you need? Anything at all it's yours," Mark pleaded.
Then she said, "okay, if you want, we could watch the television."
"Okay. That sounds good," he finished.
A week later, when Mark and Michelle had just gotten home, Mark from work and Michelle from the grocery store, the doorbell rang. Mark opened the door. Stevie was sitting at his front door with tears running down her face and blood streaming from gashes in her rists. It was as if he were watching a scene from a horror movie right in front him.
"Why did you do that?!" Mark asked shocked. The look on his face was of morbid fear and disgust.
"I thought about what you said about if a person loves someone their only concern is for their happiness. I want you to be happy," she said. She was sinking into death quickly, "I can't bother you any more this way. I know that if I don't do this I'll never quit trying. Just think of this as a favor. I did this because I love you and I want you to be happy with Michelle. Don't feel bad because it's not your fault. You're only fault is that you are such a great guy. I've always thought so and I'm sure Michelle agrees with me. Think about it this way: Somebody died for you because you're such a wonderful human being. You are worth this. Every bit of it." Then she passed out from massive loss of blood and just moments later she was gone.
Mark looked at Michelle with a scared, bewildered look in his eyes, "She did that for me?"
Michelle spoke to him while still looking at the once, lively, young, and lovestruck Stevie, "I'd have done it too," she turned and looked at Mark, "Only for you."