Skinned...

The end of my work day is coming and it’s all the sudden gotten crazy. I’m in Evanston today and trying to get home before Kat and Charlie arrive. He’s been in D.C. all week and she’s coming for the weekend. I’m ecstatic to see them both but also feeling rather emotional. I’m in a constant state of angry so as to avoid feeling anything else. April 20th, the year anniversary of Rob’s death is coming up and I’m a mess and don’t want to admit it. I’m trying to keep the happy face on but I’m feeling I’m on the edge of losing it.
At the current moment, I have two clients going at the same time plus I’m trying to collect all the trash and take it out before the hour and a half trek home on the train. On top of that, Charlie texted me saying he’s trying to fly stand-by home and the flight he wants to get on is oversold plus the flight he’s scheduled to leave on is delayed. Awesome.
I’m trying to get the color rinsed off of one client while another one is sitting with a toner on her highlights. Both clients need to feed their meters and aren’t too happy with the juggling situation I’ve got going on, but there is no one else to help. It’s time to rinse the toner as I’m finishing the one client, explaining I’ll be back to shampoo her.
“Can’t anyone else do it?” she huffs.
“If someone could, they would.” I nod. “I’ll check one more time.” I race over to the other shampoo bowls to find another assistant while the toner client pipes up at me saying “Um, excuse me, it’s time to rinse! I have to feed my meter!”
“I’m coming!” I try not to snap as I find Vanessa and ask her to shampoo the client I just rinsed.
“In a minute.” she tells me because she too is shampooing someone.
“Thanks.” I exhale and get the toner off this woman’s head while she talks to me like I’m in kindergarten, explaining what products I’ll be finding for her when it’s time to style her hair.
I quickly get her set up at the blow-dry station, because she wants to do it herself. I find all her products, get her a comb, a diffuser, and a fresh towel and I’m on my way to take the trash out, hands shaking from rage.
In the break room, I gather the last of the large trash bags and exclaim to Lauren, a stylist that I’m going to scream.
“Let it out girl. What happened?”
I explain the clients and the meters and being spoken to as if I’m ignorant. I’m talking so fast I barely take in any air.
“Just give me a minute will you!” I exclaim. “I promise I’m doing the best I can! What is wrong with people?!”
“I know girl, I know.” she nods.
“Melissa?” LaRae’s elegant voice is behind me. She’s a receptionist and when I turn to face her, I see she’s carrying a dozen beautiful red roses. “These are for you.” she hands them to me.
“Really?!” my entire being lights up.
“Yup!”
“Who are they from?” I ask, noticing there is no card.
“A lil birdie.” she smiles.
“What does this birdie look like?” I grin.
“Not telling you!” she turns and walks out of the break room.
“LaRae!” I trail after her. “Tell me!”
“Nope!” she smiled and made her way back up front.
I lightened up after that, assuming the flowers were from Charlie but how did they get here when he wasn’t in the city yet?
I haul the garbage outside and seriously contemplate screaming, I’m still so overwhelmed. I cry instead. Tears burn my cheeks as I toss the trash into the huge dumpster, walk back inside and clock out.
I check my phone and got a text from Charlie earlier saying he was on the train back to the city. I texted him back saying I was leaving. Five minutes later I was out the door and trucking it to the train. I heard someone running behind me and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Hands landed on my shoulders, a kiss landed on my neck and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned to see Charlie smiling me at me.
“Hi!!!” I squealed hugging and kissing him. “Really?!”
He nodded. “I can’t believe I just pulled that off. I made that stand-by flight and had enough time to get you flowers and pick you up.”
I am speechless. We walk to his car and my hand immediately finds the back of his head once he‘s started driving. “Thank you so much. It’s been a hellacious day and you completely turned it around.”
He turned and smiled at me.
We’re quiet for a while before he says (after I rehashed this afternoon) “I know this is a tough weekend for you. I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
The fact that he remembered and is opening himself up to receive my insanity instantly touches me and I try not to cry.
“Thank you. I do want to talk about it, I just don’t know what to say. Nothing makes it better so I think what’s the point? There’s nothing anyone can do, nothing I can do, but just sit there and deal with it.”
After Rob died I talked incessantly. Now, nearly a year later, I feel like a scared animal who has been skinned and tossed aside, left to her own devices and too scared to say a word to anyone.
Scared of what I don’t know. Scared of losing control? Scared of seeming unstable? Of crying? I don’t know. I don’t know how to fix it or alleviate any of it.
At Charlie’s we get settled for a minute knowing we’ll be back out again to meet Kat. She’s on the train coming in from Midway. I’m laying across Charlie’s bed on my back, staring at the ceiling. He’s next to me on his side. I feel his eyes on me but I don’t turn to look at him. I start talking about the day before Rob died, going over the tiniest details, like how I was supposed to pick up salad dressing for dinner and instead went to visit Kat at the pub because I knew he’d be late. I told him about Rob being stressed when he got to my place because he had left Robby with a mess. He didn’t tell Robby that he was meeting me. I told him how he would be sarcastic with me when he was stressed out and how I told him it hurt my feelings. I told him Rob and I talked about how we wanted our wedding to be while eating the dinner he cooked and how his snoring kept me up that night so I slept on the couch and cried myself to sleep because I was angry at him for reasons I couldn’t figure out and couldn’t shake, not even the next morning.
“I don’t know what it was.” I sighed. “I’ve never felt like that before.”
My phone began ringing. It’s Kat and she’s close. When I hang up Charlie is off the bed. “To be continued!” he tells me. I don’t say anything. I don’t know when I’ll be able to continue it. Talking about this is weird. Once I get the guts to say something, I have to finish it, otherwise, it’ll be a while before I’m able to say anything else.
Once we get Kat settled at my place, Charlie takes the two of us to dinner. I’m so happy to have her here. We’re all deliriously tired after dinner. Charlie is leaving for Milwaukee the in morning, and I’m going to work. Kat decides I should stay with him tonight, and she’ll stay at my place. I don’t put up much of an argument.
The next morning I’m up early and getting dressed while Charlie is still passed out. I woke up extra early to be able to spend a teeny bit more time with him but I can see that plan has backfired as he hasn’t moved in the past forty five minutes. I decide to leave and go for a walk before I have to get on the train to Evanston again.
“You leavin’?” he asks, his eyes still closed as I’m standing in front of the bed.
“Yes.” I don‘t move. His eyes open and he tells me I look nice.
“Thanks.” I reply, still not moving. I somehow decide to take this moment to tell him a story about the gym. I’m halfway into it before he stops me and says “Wait, what time do you have to work?”
“I have to leave here at eight fifteen!”
“Ok. I just don’t want you to be late.”
“Don’t worry about it. You know how I am about time.”
“Keep talkin’.” he says and gets out of bed. I quickly finish my story and launch into how I feel about not wanting to work today.
“I just need a lil bit of time off. I can’t seem to get my head straight.”
He offers some suggestions to which I ask “Are you trying to fix my problem?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Cause you know, it’s not really about work. I’m just choosing to take it out on work.”
“I know.” he pushes his feet into his shoes. “Come on. I’m taking you to Lovely.” (the coffee shop we met in.)
“They don’t open until nine.”
“What?” he looked deflated. “I can make you some coffee and oatmeal here then. That be ok?”
“Yes.” I smile and nod. He walks over to me and hugs me.
“I just want to take care of you.” he says.
“Ok.” I kiss him, feeling myself softening up. Maybe it won’t be such an icky day after all.