Fancy Feet by Heidi Cave

Author:Heidi Cave
Format: epub
Publisher: Behler Publications, LLC

19

Exposed

I looked around the table at faces I was just getting to know. It was one of the weekends I got to spend at home, and Scott and I were at a pub.

A girl sitting next to me spoke up eagerly. “Heidi, I was just thinking of you the other day.”

“Oh?”

“I was in the shower shaving my legs and I thought ‘Heidi is so lucky she doesn’t have to do this anymore.’ ”

Quiet fell upon the table. It slammed into us. Everyone’s smiles froze into Cheshire Cat grins. Forks clattered onto plates, and some of us hurriedly gulped down beer. All I could hear was the clink of glasses at the tables next to us and the exploding brain activity of people thinking this did not just happen.

“You’re so lucky you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

She wasn’t kidding. And I had no retort.

She grinned, eyes wide and oblivious. I knew her name, but I didn’t know her. She was a friend of a friend. A friend of a friend telling me how lucky I am that I don’t have to shave my legs because they aren’t here anymore.

All eyes were on me as I fished around for an answer. I mimicked the Cheshire Cat grin until someone found their voice and began to loudly ask questions of the person beside them, forcing the attention away from me. Color returned to our faces and function restored to our bodies.

I didn’t know whether to be hurt or outraged. I wanted to laugh because this was funny. Awkward as hell, but hilarious. I didn’t know what would possess a person to let those words come from her mouth.

Each time I went home, I was handed another piece of reality, another way in which my life had changed and my future carved in stone. I had more time to think here, maybe too much.

I should have died, but I was still here. How could I tell anyone that I wasn’t grateful to be alive? I thought I should feel relieved, but I wasn’t. Betty died. And I didn’t.

I often thought about guests on talk shows telling their harrowing tales of how they came to survive and overcome tragedy. Tears were shed, and they were grateful just to be alive. All the while, the heads of the audience nodded along as they dabbed their eyes. I felt enormous expectation to have the appropriate responses for the people in my life. Like the heads in the audience, I wanted to have their heads bob along, satisfied with what I was saying.

When people asked how I felt, I was never sure of what the response should be. It depended on the day. I tried to tie up the end of those conversations with ‘I’m thankful to be alive,’ but, it didn’t come out that way.

Some days I was fine. That was a good day. Fine sufficed. Other days, it was harder to find adequate words to describe what was going on with me. Devastation was a good word to use.

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