Bodies of Water by Greenwood T

Author:Greenwood, T. [Greenwood, T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2013-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

When the plane starts its slow descent into Pittsburgh, I realize that Hugh and I will be parting ways in just a few minutes. I think about him heading off to meet his Internet girlfriend in Hoboken. I picture her waiting for him at baggage claim, her expectancy and hope matching his as they meet for the first time. Will she be disappointed? Will he? His face is so full of boyish optimism, I could cry. At what point does this go away? This belief that the world is a good place, that love is yours for the asking? The taking?

When I met Lou, I had already lost this optimism; after Eva, I believed that love (real love) was a dangerous thing, and I wanted nothing to do with it again. But Lou was tenacious. Persistent and patient. And finally, she convinced me that love could be a quiet, easy thing. Ours was a predictable kind of love. A safe love. She was my friend first, and everything else was an afterthought. We were never secretive about our relationship, but people still assumed we were simply companions. There was never fire between us, only slow-glowing embers keeping the hearth of our home warm. I know this decision to see Johnny would pain her. It would have confirmed that even after all these years, after a lifetime, Eva still possessed me. Obsessed me. That I’d never ever truly let go.

My ears ache and my stomach plummets as the plane tilts toward the earth. I hate this part. I long for distraction.

“Chewing gum?” I ask Hugh, holding out the pack I bought at the airport.

He shakes his head.

“I hope I have time to get a bite before my next flight,” he says nervously. “I’m starving. I thought they were supposed to give you snacks.”

“I think that’s what these are.” I gesture to the packet of peanuts on my tray.

A flight attendant leans over and says, “Can you please raise your tray? We’re going to be landing soon.”

“Would you like my peanuts?” I ask, offering him the little foil packet and putting the plastic tray back up. I hand the flight attendant my empty plastic cup and napkin.

“Thanks,” he says, and tears into them with his teeth, emptying the packet directly into his mouth with one shake.

“What’s her name?” I ask him as the wheels lower loudly from the belly of the plane and we hurl, finally, toward the earth. His face is ghostly and pale; I am trying hard to distract him. Trying to distract myself.

“Who?” he asks, not looking at me, staring instead down the corridor between the seats. I can tell he’s trying to see if he is the only one panicking.

“Your girl,” I say, smiling and reaching for his hand.

He turns to me again at this, and color suddenly returns to his face. “Marcy,” he says, smiling.

Marcy, I think. The name conjures bright blue eyes and a ponytail. A fresh-faced girl in blue jeans. Pink cheeks. I imagine she’s a little pudgy.

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