Nine>>>A Step Too Far
I dash down the stairs, not because I’m in a rush, but because I’m feeling energized this morning. Mom’s in the kitchen setting out bagels for all of Avery’s friends who slept over for some church event. Mom told me about it but I just nodded and “uh huhed”- hardly paying attention.
I steal a bagel and pop it in the toaster, pouring myself a cup of coffee.
She looks at the clock and frowns. “It’s 9 o clock Taylor. Good God, why are you awake?”
I grin and lean against the counter. “Because I start my job today.”
“Oh right. You’re teaching piano?”
“Yes to college students. And my first lesson is at 10:00 so I need to be up early for a good start to my day.”
She smiles hesitantly and sets cups out on the kitchen table. “Well I’m glad to hear how much…chipper you sound today.”
“Well, I’m just glad to be doing something now. I feel like for the past…well for the past six months even I’ve done nothing but sit around on my ass all day. Zac started school….Ike started school…it’s about time I do something and meet some new people.”
“I think that’s a good idea, Taylor.”
“Mommy, help me!” Zoe whines as she walks into the kitchen with her soccer cleats in her hands. “They’re knotted!”
Mom reprimands Zoe for her tone of voice and starts working on taking the knots out of her laces. I’m disappointed she can’t go into more elaboration on how impressed she is with my new job but it’s something you get used to in a large family and I get over it…oh by the time the toaster pops up. I get my bagel and start spreading an even layer of cream cheese over it.
“You got soccer today huh, Zo?” I ask my little sister.
She sits on the kitchen floor and starts putting her cleats on.
“Dad’s taking her,” Mom tells me. “Her game is at 10 so she has to be at the field at 9:30.”
I make a face. “That’s early isn’t it?” I sit down to enjoy my breakfast.
“Your games were that early too buddy,” Mom tells me and starts pouring orange juice.
Just as my coffee is turning the perfect heat for drinking and I am really starting to enjoy my bagel, a herd of girls come down the stairs and to the table.
There are six of them. And only five chairs left. I groan and get up. “Here you go your majesty,” I say to Avery, who’s looking at me hurriedly.
I take a big sip of my coffee and grab a piece of my bagel for the road. “I should go to work anyway!” I say, looking at my mom and grabbing my keys from the counter.
As I’m walking out I hear Avery say behind me, “Since when does he have a real job!? That’s the kid who decided that watching reruns of Oprah was a career in itself!”
“Piss off Avery!” I yell to her and hurry out the door before my mom can yell at my 21 year old immature self.
“God damnit!!! Damnit!” I say walking out to the parking lot of the college building.
“That’s not how your mother raised you is it?”
I turn quickly to the owner of that sassy comment. “My mother is dead. Thanks a lot,” I say to the college girl looking at me.
She starts to apologize but I don’t think I’m going to let her. “Who are you anyway to comment on my language? My mother reincarnated? Snapping at random strangers about their dead mothers…that’s not how YOUR mother raised YOU, now is it?” I open the car door and start to get in.
“I’m really sorry about your mother. And about…well whatever caused the God damnit.”
I pause and look at her, sitting down and sticking the keys in the ignition. “Don’t worry about it.” I mumble.
“I remember you, you know.”
Now she’s got my attention. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I met you at the library. I work at the front desk there.”
The wheels turn in my head…thinking…oh yeah! “Oh yeah, hey.”
“I’m Harper.” She reached out her hand.
I am really not in the mood for this. I just want to get in my car, crank up my music, and head to Starbucks for another coffee. But I shake her hand and nod, “Taylor.”
“And I feel really terrible for…saying that about your mother. I didn’t mean to bring-“
I shake my head and try to cut her off but she keeps going, “that up. I was only teasing you. I know it must have…opened an old wound and…”
“Harper.”
“I’m really, really-“
I put my hand over her mouth. She stops talking and looks at me.
“My mother is alive and well. It was a joke.” I remove my hand. For a moment she is quiet. But that is a very, very brief moment.
“Why would you tell me that then? That’s ridiculous! That’s really…really quite…stupid…what did you say your name was again?”
I am enjoying how worked up she is. Did I mention I love to frustrate women? Who knows why…but I might even call it a past time of mine. I grin at her. “Don’t act like you don’t remember my name. It’s been running through your head since the second I told you it.”
Her look of frustration turns to a look of fury. Okay that’s a step too far.
“Well you certainly are an arrogant little fellow aren’t you?” She takes one final look at me and turns to walk off.
I stand up to watch her and start laughing, louder than I really feel the need to, but I want to get her attention. I want her to know I’m not phased by her attempt to put me down.
“Bye Harper!” I yell to her. She waves without turning around and I watch her get into a car. I get into my own and grin for a second. But slowly the grin fades away. My current poor people skills are nothing to be proud of.
I’m on the phone with Estelle. The first Estelle. My ex-girlfriend Estelle. She picked up the phone when I called and now is forced to talk to me. I can just picture her sitting there on the bed in her dorm grudgingly holding the phone to her ear and making faces to Kelly about me every couple minutes.
“So listen to this,” I explain to her, “I’m waiting there for my student and a little kid walks into the room with his mom. And I’m like okay they must be lost. So they ask for Taylor Hanson. And I’m like wait, I’m Taylor Hanson!” I pause and think about how stupid that really sounded. “So I find out, I’m teaching at the college, but I’m teaching children at the college! I hate children! You know that! I can barely stand my own siblings. I only baby-sit for Ike’s kid when I have to. I avoid having to touch children I don’t know at all costs. And now here I am teaching some germy 6 year old how to play hot cross buns with his two pointer fingers.”
I wait for her response. None. Why do I put myself through this anyway? I think it is an addiction. I don’t even like talking to Estelle anymore. But I make sure to call her a couple times a week anyway. This cannot be good for my healing process.
“So I was so pissed off, Estelle. I mean, I was really looking forward to this job! Meet some people my age maybe…maybe a girl or two…” I grin faintly. I hope that pissed her off. “It’s really a let down you know?”
“Yeah.”
When you’re talking to someone who doesn’t want to talk to you, you have to sprinkle little “you knows” throughout your conversation. It’s the only way to get them to respond.
I sigh, bored. The effort this takes and the frustration is involves is not worth the maybe 12 words I get out of Estelle the entire conversation. But I’m an addict. And an addict who’s scared of how good life could be if I weren’t addicted.