“Antonia, where did you go,” Andrea asked, seeing me walking inside. She took a huge shopping bag from the desk, thanking the clerk.
“Yeah, we thought you left us,” Nichole added, pushing a strand of sandy brown hair out of her eyes.
I froze, not knowing what to say at first.
It was my cane’s fault! It made me lose my sense of direction… No, I was busy following the sound of a man’s captivating voice. Yeah, like they’d buy either of those.
I glanced back at the doorway behind me, thinking of a truthful sounding answer. “No, I just… had to use the bathroom,” I said, tossing my cane from one hand to the other.
The three of them straightened the handles of their shiny shopping bags and purse straps around their shoulders and exited the store without any further questioning.
Hours later, after I had tried to occupy my thoughts with shopping, shopping and more shopping, I still could not escape the lyrics I had heard earlier. They seemed to have been implanted in me somehow.
We stopped at one last store that had formal clothing in it. I wandered around each rack minimizing my cane movements looking at all the prices. One hundred dollars, two hundred dollars, three hundred dollars, I read widening my eyes.
All
this stuff is way out of my price range.
“How does this one look,” Simoane asked me, holding a pink blouse up to her chest.
“That looks . . . nice,” I said politely even though I thought it was hideous.
“That would look great with those black jeans you have,” Nichole added, looking through a rack of long skirts.
“You think so,” Simoane asked, looking at her in a mirror that was full length.
“Hmm hmm,” Andrea hummed in agreement, glancing at Simoane and back to the necklaces she was looking through.How many opinions does she need? She’s the one that’s going to wear it.
“OK, you talked me into it,” said Simoane, grinning from ear to ear heading for the register. I looked upward slapping myself on the forehead in disgust.
Three and a half hours later, I was exhausted. I had fallen asleep in Simoane’s car on the way home and when I awoke, we were already turning down on my street.
“Did you have a
nice nap,” Andrea asked, smiling at me.
“Yeah,” I answered not knowing what else to say.
“It’s too bad you didn’t get anything,” Simoane said sympathetically. “Better luck next time.”
“I guess,” I agreed as Simoane pulled in front of my building. She parked and yawned scratching the back of her neck. “Well,” I said, grabbing the handle of my stiffened cane. “Thanks for inviting me on this exhausting shopping spree.” I opened the passenger door, dragging my unfolded cane along with me. “I hope to do it again sometime. Good night,” I said.“Good night, Antonia,” my friends called out waving.
Shutting the passenger door, I began the process of dragging my exhausted self to my apartment building hitting my cane against every cement step.
Inside, I breathed in stale air that had been smoked in numerous times. The door shut itself and I moved the light bulb that dangled from the ceiling out of my face. To the right were rows of mailboxes on the wall marked with black numbers from one zero one, to one five zero. I checked box one thirteen only to find that there was a small local newspaper and a bunch of ads for various food chains. The tip of my cane hit each carpeted step as I headed for my apartment door. I held my mail under one arm and climbed the four flights of stairs to my apartment. When I finally reached the fourth floor, I opened my purse to feel around for my key. I found it in a matter of seconds and continued down the carpeted hallway. When I finally reached my apartment door, I pushed my key into the lock turning it to the left with a click. My door squeaked its way open and I pulled the key out and tossed it on the nearby end table. Inside, it was very dark and I heard something slide on the floor in front of me. Pausing for a second again, hoping that Mickey Mouse didn’t decide to pay me a visit, I scanned the room, trying to listen for the sounds again. Straight ahead of me where the refrigerator stood against the wall, I caught sight of the corner of a piece of red paper sticking out from beneath it.
I put my cane down, leaning it against the wall, pulling the strap of my purse up over my head and dropping it on the floor. With slightly trembling fingers, I slowly pulled out the red paper discovering that it was an envelope. I turned it over seeing that my name was written in fancy script. I paused looking up from the envelope for a second.
This isn’t happening.
Rushing toward the desk, I grabbed the letter I had gotten a couple of days ago, comparing the handwriting on both envelopes. They both didn’t have a stamp, a postmark or a return address. Both of my names were written in the same exact ink and in the same exact handwriting.
I put down the old envelope and grabbed the letter opener, excited and scared at the same time. My heart was beating faster than I could count. I dropped the letter opener, not caring weather it landed on the desk, in the drawer or on the floor pulling out the same white card with the same red rose on the front. I opened the card and read:
See you soon…..
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