Page 22 of Perfect Assumption
“Or we’d all be gone. Did you ever think about that?” At my expression of horror, Carys’s eyes begin to leak. She impatiently brushes the tears away. “Ward, you’re assuming a lot. You always did. Even as a kid.”
I lean against the credenza and shoot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
Carys does the same. “You guessed about everything. You were the worst about birthdays and holidays for surprises. Inevitably, we’d bought you something from one of your lists. That’s how you figured out that Santa didn’t exist.”
I grin. “When was that?”
“You were six. Mom blamed me.”
I bark out a laugh before tugging her into my arms. Carys lays her head on my shoulder. I hug her tightly before whispering, “You didn’t spoil Santa for me. You didn’t ruin anything for me. You gave me everything. I’m just sorry I don’t know what to do with it most days.”
Her arms squeeze me tight. “You do. You just have to remember something.”
“What’s that?”
“Stop assuming so much—about people. About life. Most of the time, it’s going to end up being completely wrong.”
I pull back a bit. “Is that experience talking?”
Her voice is quiet. “It’s a word of caution. Assumptions often lead to actions you can’t take back.”
Long after I leave my sister’s office, her words reverberate through my head. I spend so long thinking about them that when I finally leave, Angie’s already gone for the weekend.
Damn.
I stand next to her desk and promise myself next week will be different. For all of us.
Nine
Angela
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— Beautiful Today
“You young women of today just don’t get it.” An elderly woman approaches me just as I’m about to get off my stop in Brewster.
I’m totally confused. “I’m sorry.”
“You young women of today.”
Uh-oh. This is the last thing I need after the tumultuous week I’ve suffered at work. I stand swiftly and move toward the train doors. Fortunately, they open just as I approach them. But that doesn’t stop the woman from offering her final opinion just as I step off.
“Stop dressing like tarts if you don’t want men to look at you!” she yells after me. Over my shoulder, I see her shake her cane at me as the doors begin to close in her face.
Dress like a tart? I want to laugh. The suits I pair with knee-high flat boots are less seductive than the uniforms the local boarding school wears. Every inch of skin I can cover is wrapped up tight. Gripping the collar of my winter trench tighter around me, I dash up the steps from the train platform so I can get to the lot where I left my car.
Thank God it’s the weekend. I need the break from everyone and everything starting now.
Even though I’m trembling from the latest attack on what feels like a perpetual altercation on my soul, I don’t bother turning on the heat or the music in the quick six-minute drive to my house. It’s taking all my effort to breathe in and to breathe out when all I want to do is to scream.
Some days, I get weary of standing up tall and strong. Am I about to be exploited again? Become an agenda item for the country to dissect in detail over their morning breakfast or dinner discussions? Would I receive more lewd offers for modeling to “repair” my image or offers to tell my side of the story on national “news”? And all I want to do is live somewhere quietly where someone sees my heart, not the scandal.
Because somehow I managed to survive. And that’s why it hurts. I bang my hand on the steering wheel in frustration. Due to the love and care of my grandparents, Sula, hell, even my therapist, I’m the one who survived.
What would have happened if they hadn’t been called away by their pledge chairman?I wonder not for the millionth time.What would have happened then?A shudder runs through me as it always does.
My grandparents’ home has become my sanctuary in the years after I abandoned college. It’s here I realized I couldn’t stay tucked away forever to hide my head from the world after I stood up so valiantly before the Student Conduct Board, no matter what the ramifications were for me or for the university. I’d healed too much to stay tucked away forever. But on the other hand, I couldn’t go back to the life I was living before.
