*Fiction NOT Fact
[NOTICE: All characters in the following story are fictitious in nature, so don't think otherwise. Thank you. The Management]
Hundreds of tiny little rainbows danced about the room, flashing the reds, the oranges, the yellows, greens, blues, indigoes, and the violets of the spectrum, as sunlight skipped through the Swarovski crystal globe spinning from its silver chain in the window, the white light being bent into bands of happy vibrant colors. I felt those happy colors in my heart as I entered the breakfast room, and saw several of those rainbows also playing in the platinum fields of Andy’s hair. I reached to catch one in my hand—I wanted to hold on to it forever!
“What are you doing?” Andy cried out, as my hand grazed the little tuft of hair falling across his forehead.
“I just caught a rainbow,” I answered, clutching my treasure securely.
“You can’t catch a rainbow, Ellee,” he said, looking over the top of his newspaper at me, his sparkling eyes making rainbows of their own at that moment, as a mischievous grin broke across his face.
“Yes, I can! See—” And I opened my hand to show him, but the rainbow was gone!
“See—no rainbow!” Andy confirmed.
“Andy, it WAS there! I had it! Right here in my hand.”
Dropping his paper, he took my hand and brushed the tips of his fingers over my palm several times. As his fingers made contact with my skin, little tingles effervesced, like baking soda in warm water.
“Well . . . it’s gone now . . . isn’t it?”
Then his eyes traveled up to mine where they instantly made an electrical connection. We stared at each other for several minutes as I slowly lowered myself in the chair across from him. Something was sparking between us. Were we remembering the night before? Valentine? The Party?—THE KISS? I wasn’t remembering. The cerebral awareness of that kiss was still very much alive in my mind—I hadn’t filed it away, so there was no need to remember. I was still experiencing it . . .
. . . the soft fringes of my long eyelashes brushing against Andy’s lips . . . his response, as his lips made their incredible journey around my face, searching for my lips . . . the exact moment when our lips came together, in gentle tenderness at first taste, and then all at once escalating to a feverish pitch, demanding more . . . little nerve endings all over screaming awareness that our lips had finally made contact, and their immediate celebration, sending out complimentary adrenaline everywhere, causing a chain reaction of sensitivity to ripple and cascade . . . together the two of us stepping into . . . Elysian Fields . . . nirvana . . . paradise . . . Shangri-la . . . utopia . . . heaven . . . and even— arcadia! And finally the ultimate . . . Euphoria. Yes, we were there, together!
These were the sensations playing over and over, again and again in a continual loop in my head. As I looked into the crystal of Andy’s blue eyes, I could see he, too, was feeling those same things, so it took me off guard when he spoke up and said,
“About that kiss last night—” the mischievous grin now gone, the tone more serious.
—About that kiss last night ?? Yes, yes Andy. What about it?? I awaited eagerly. But THEN, all at once it hit me! Little red flags flew up, and whistles started blowing LOUD AND CLEAR in my unsuspecting heart. We had been here before—New Year’s Day. My heart plummeted. It was about to receive the jolt of a lifetime once again. But I was much wiser this time. I wouldn’t allow a repeat performance. What is it they say, Once bitten, twice shy? Well, once was certainly enough for me. I knew what Andy’s next words were going to be. They had been emblazoned in my mind, heart, and soul, so I would say them first this time . . . before he could.
“Yes, Andy, about that kiss last night . . . we shouldn’t read anything into it . . . at all . . . And it never should have happened—it was a mistake!”
“W-whaat?” he choked.
I had just quoted word for word what he had told me New Year’s Day, after our New Year’s Eve kiss high above the street in Times Square, on the broadcast platform.
After my words had found their mark, I thought I detected a little mist in Andy’s eyes—but that couldn’t be . . . and I wasn’t even sure, because he quickly grabbed the newspaper and shielded his face, like he was reading. And then all of a sudden, he dropped the paper, and blurted out,
“Is THAT what you think, Ellee?” His look was sober, his eyes taking on a weighty appearance.
“Yes, of course, don’t you?” I replied, assuming a detached air at that point, thinking he would agree with me.
I had succeeded in throwing up fortifications all around me— aloof words, ridged body language, and the chilled look on my face. Yes, my defenses were securely in place. This time I wouldn’t be hurt! I was ready! I understood the rules of engagement now, and there would be strict adherence on my part.
He looked at me for a few seconds, then glanced away, as if he saw something, then his eyes found mine again. But he didn’t say anything. There was silence for a long time. I finally broke it when I drew back, aimed and shot the last piercing arrow, so as not to leave any doubt at all about the nature of our kiss—our Valentine Kiss.
“Well . . . it was probably just a Valentine thing anyway, Andy.”
This last piece of armor was then firmly in place. A full-fledged Anderpout had consumed his entire face by that time, and once again he threw up his newspaper in front of his face and feigned reading, before I could confirm if there was any mist in his eyes.
I thought I had shielded myself from Andy’s deadly darts rather well. In fact, he hadn’t even had the chance to launch them. I was pleased with myself. Except . . . EXCEPT . . . ohhhhhhhhh . . . ohhhhh DANG! Our Valentine kiss had not meant anything to him—just like the New Year’s Eve kiss. DANG! DANG! DANG! How was that possible??? It seemed like it had meant everything to him . . . the night before. That’s when I realized . . . it was truly just a Valentine Thing with him, and nothing more.
Well, I told myself, I made it through the New Year’s Eve Thing. I supposed I could weather the Valentine Thing, as well. Actually, I was getting pretty good at it. It didn’t sting as much this time. Oh, what was I thinking? That’s a lie! It nearly killed me—just like last time. But I was determined not to succumb to it like last time.
Just then, something big and pink caught my periphery vision, and I turned to see it. There it was! All big and pink, sitting at the table to my left.
“Andy! WHAT is THAT?” I exclaimed in astonishment.
The paper came down once more and he fixed frosted eyes on mine. And there was definitely no mist.
“What does it look like?” he snapped, his tone caustic.
“One very large and very pink Teddy Bear,” I ventured.
The bear, almost as big as Andy and me, was sitting at the table, like he was waiting for his oatmeal and honey.
“Well,” he yelled, “that’s EXACTLY what it is! ! ! !
“But . . . what . . . I mean . . . why . . . or how . . . who—?”
“Check the Valentine card swinging from his ear, deeeear gurrrrl! It’s from your little boyfriend! He brought it last night, but I wouldn’t let him in. So he left it with the doorman, who brought it up this morning.”
I should have known, but I honestly thought Andy was giving me another Valentine gift. At that moment, I realized the bear had given me the means to belie the hurt feelings going on inside me about Andy’s attitude toward our kiss, so I got up and threw my arms around the bear’s big pink fuzzy chest and cooed,
“Awwwwww, Andy, isn’t he cute?"
“CUTE!!!????? Oh, you think he’s cute, do you! Well, he’s so cute, Ellee, I think we ought to take him outside, stuff a rolled-up string of firecrackers in his mouth, and then watch him explode after we light ‘em!!! Then you can tell me how cute he is!”
As I watched his expression, I realized he meant it. He was really upset.
“Andy, you really want to blow up this bear?”
“Yes, I REALLY do!”
The arteries in neck were standing out like they were full of plaque.
“Isn’t that kinda violent?”
“Yes, VERY!”
“Awwww . . . how can this sweet furry pink thing make you want to do THAT?”
But Andy wasn’t looking at the sweet furry pink thing—his eyes were firmly on me, and they were mad eyes! Then I realized, his fury was for me, not that bear! But why? What had I done? It was I who should have been mad at him. He’s the one who didn’t think our kiss meant anything. Ohhhhhhhhh, I just didn’t understand. Arrrggggggh!
At that moment Molly came dashing into the room and the second she saw the sweet furry pink thing she barked, and then charged that poor unsuspecting bear who, on impact, went flying out of the chair and landed on the floor just before Molly landed on top of him—Molly had found the perfect playmate, so the two of them proceeded to wrestle. First Molly was on top, then the bear was on top, and then they chased each other around the table, or maybe one of them was just dragging the other around the table. It was hard to tell, but Molly was having the time of her life. Possibly the bear wasn’t, for all at once his stuffing began flying everywhere. Molly’s playtime was getting a little rough.
“Andy, she’s tearing that bear to pieces!”
“Yeah, she is,” he stated, unmoved by the situation, now grinning widely, through clenched teeth.
“Aren’t you going to stop her?”
“Of course I’ll stop her! —when she’s finished.” And he laughed a laugh that had an evil ring to it.
At that moment his pager went off and he reached in his pocket to get it. When he saw who it was, he left the room and was gone out the door a few minutes later.
I sat there for a while analyzing everything that had transpired in the previous twenty-four hours. So many questions remained. I wondered how I could have been so deceived by our kiss—again, for the second time. I really felt our kiss was important to him—I knew it was to me. It meant everything, but then so did our New Year’s Eve kiss. And that meant nothing to him, either.
I started to be sad, but just then Molly dragged what was left of poor, bedraggled Mr. Pinky over to me, dropping him at my feet. When she looked up at me, with bear stuffing coming out of her mouth and stuck to her eyelashes and whiskers, she looked so silly there was no way I could indulge in self pity, so I laughed instead.
“Ohhhh Molly! Look what you’ve done to poor Mr. Pinky Bear,” I said in a mock scolding, as I got down on the floor and gave her a hug. “You bad, bad girl! What am I going to do with you?”
And I gave her another long hug. Just then one of the little rainbows still dancing around the room, flashed across my eyes and onto Molly’s snout. I reached to catch it, but it quickly darted away.
“Oh Molly," I lamented, sensing an ache in my heart, “maybe it’s true what Andy said. Maybe you can’t catch a rainbow.”
Bye for now,
Love,
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