The Universe is a Very Big Place (31 page)

Standing was difficult. She heard things creak in her body that probably shouldn’t be creaking, and wondered if she was doing the right thing. She could keep the letters. These were more than ink and paper; they were a testament that someone had once loved her and that she had loved them back, however misguidedly.

She had loved. She had been loved. Could she do it again?

If you had the faith of a mustard seed, you would see that anything is possible.
The words came to her and she wracked her brain to remember who had quoted this. Big Bird? It didn’t matter. It was true.

She gathered the letters and went into Sam’s work area. One by one, she began to shred them. Suddenly she stopped. A white envelope with a Cinderella sticker caught her eye. The one Ernie had written to Spring that Lanie had never given her.
 

"Oh well," Lanie said. "Time for her to face the truth, too."
 

She tucked the envelope into her waistband and shredded the rest. It hurt like childbirth, but then she remembered the way Bob touched her, talked to her, made love to her, and the pain became butter over toasted bread. That hole in her chest seemed to fill up too, and she clutched her chest, to hold onto it.

"Goodbye, Ernie," she said, kissing the last letter and releasing it into the shredder. And she was surprised to find that no tears fell.

Twenty-Three

Sam held the phone to his ear, a constipated look on his face as Spring walked, messy-haired and blurry-eyed, into the kitchen. The patio door opened and Lanie entered the living room, followed closely by Bob.

"Look, Bob’s a dad!" Lanie pointed to a fat, pink creature cradled lovingly in Bob’s arms.

"Mom. Is that a pig?" Spring shook her head in disbelief.

"Of course, it’s a pig," Lanie said. "I knew I should have taken you to the zoo as a child."

Lanie led Bob and his pig back into her bedroom and Spring heard the click of the lock behind them.

"Your mother isn’t allowed to have pigs in the house," Sam said, placing his hand over the mouthpiece. "Go tell her."

Spring smoothed her hair into place. "You tell her. I’m late for work."

Sam scratched his head. "I’ve got other things going on right now. I guess we can deal with this later."

Spring paused. Sam wasn’t normally so complacent, especially about things he found repulsive. "Is everything okay?"

Sam listened to someone speaking on the phone for several moments before hanging up. He placed his hand on his forehead and made his way to a dining room chair and plopped himself down, staring absently at the wall in front of him.
 

"It’s Grandma Rosary. Her condition is worsening. They give her a few days. Week tops." He scratched his chin thoughtfully, running his fingers across his new stubble.

"Oh, Sam! I’m so sorry." Spring wasn’t sure what to say to make it better. She knew how much he loved the woman who had basically raised him since his mother’s divorce.

"That’s why we have to get married right away, Pookie. It’s her dying wish." Sam shifted his gaze from the spot on the wall to Spring. "You are all I have left."

When Spring entered the lobby of
Teens in Trouble,
Debbie was crying at her desk.
 

"Debbie, what’s wrong?" Spring asked. "Kimberly try and scalp you?"

Debbie shook her head and dried her face on her shirt. "No. Not Kimberly. It’s Roger. He’s...he’s called off the wedding."

"What?" Spring crouched low so that she was eye-level with her friend, who sat hunched over in an oversized, black, office chair. "What do you mean, called it off?"

"He says it’s too much. He thinks I’m more invested in planning our wedding than in being his wife." Debbie stopped crying long enough to sigh dramatically and a pile of invitations fluttered from the desk onto the floor. "Maybe it’s true," Debbie sniffed. "But is that so wrong? I’ve always had this fantasy of my wedding day. I just want everything to be perfect."

Spring allowed Debbie a few heavy sobs before speaking. "Debbie, if you love him, fight for him. But remember, marriage is for life. It lasts long after the wedding day is over."

Debbie nodded. "I know." The phone beeped and Spring could see that it was Kimberly’s line. "It’s probably for you," Debbie said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "She wanted to see you the moment you got in. I’m sorry."

Spring stood up. "I’ll be back in a bit, hopefully in one piece. If I disappear, call the police. I didn’t run away."

"It’s Friday," Kimberly said. "I want my answer."

Spring stared at her boss but said nothing.

Kimberly picked up a tube of red lipstick from her desk and applied it perfectly without looking in a mirror. Spring felt envy at the feat. "I’m not giving you my hair," Spring said. "This is extortion."

"Wow. You got balls. Maybe hanging out with the penis has done you some good," Kimberly said, tossing the lipstick into an open desk drawer. "It still doesn't change anything."

"I could go to Jane," Spring countered.

"You could," Kimberly agreed. "But let’s just say I have Jane wrapped around my finger." Kimberly winked and Spring felt a wave of disgust wash over her.

"Fire me, then. Let me get unemployment and move on with my life." Spring crossed her arms.

"Deliberate misconduct will not get you unemployment benefits, young lady."

"Let’s see what the unemployment agency says about this," Spring shot back defiantly, surprising herself at the force of her words.

Kimberly said nothing but stared at her in shock, obviously taken aback by Spring’s newfound courage.

"You know what, Kimberly?" Spring continued, unable to stop herself. "I got an even better idea. I quit."

Kimberly regained her voice. "You’re not serious."

"Aren’t I?" Spring turned towards the door and Kimberly caught her arm.

"Spring, you can’t go." Kimberly’s voice was shaky. "If you go, who is going to wear the condom outfit?"

Spring gave Kimberly a smug smile. "Well, think of it this way. If you are in costume no one’s gonna see that bald head of yours." Spring broke away and marched out the door to deliver the news to Debbie.

"It’s not going to be the same without you." Debbie said.

"You will be fine, Debs. Besides, it’s a temp job, remember? This was never supposed to be your career."

"I thought about what you said and you were right. I will fight for him."

Spring gave Debbie a warm smile. "I will miss this place. At least what it used to be like before we went Hollywood. Too bad you weren’t here then. It was a good place to work." She hugged her friend. "Let’s keep in touch."

"I never thought you’d be the one to blow up," said Debbie. "Somehow, I thought it would be me."

Spring laughed. "So did I."

Spring drove straight to Chloe’s. She knocked at the door three times and was about to give up when her sister answered, wearing nothing but a towel.

"Oh, thought you were the mailman," her sister said, sounding disappointed.

"Since when do you greet the mailman wearing a towel?" Spring asked, stepping into the house.

"Since when don’t I?"

Spring sat on the couch and Chloe lazed across from her on a well-used chair. Scented candles placed ceremoniously around the living room were the only source of light and some New Agey music, probably left over from Lanie’s days, played romantically in the background. "What’s up, sis? You don’t grace me with your company often. Something’s wrong."

Spring looked up at the ceiling and noticed for the first time that it was popcorned, an odd contrast to Chloe’s sleek and stylish lifestyle.
 

"I don’t know who I am anymore. This isn’t the life I planned. I quit my job. Mom’s got a pig. I kissed a man I hardly know. Trevor doesn’t remember me and Sam wants us to get married..."

"Wait a sec," Chloe interrupted. "Did you say Mom got a pig?" Spring‘s lip began to tremble and Chloe caught herself. "I’m sorry. I wasn’t being very sensitive."

"All I ever wanted was a normal life. Is that too much to ask?"

Chloe sighed and offered her sister a half smile. "We had a unique childhood. The only glimpses you ever got of normal were from the windows of the houses we passed on our way from one town to another. Or from TV shows." Chloe came to her sister and draped her arm lovingly around her. "But you know that isn’t real. None of its real. It’s all an illusion. Perfect marriages, perfect homes, perfect children, perfect hair. Perfection is a game we play because we can’t bear to let others see us as we truly are. You, my sister, are normal. It’s the rest of the world that’s crazy."