Beautiful Pt. 02

I tried, quite unsuccessfully, to tune out the rest, sitting back in my chair as I attempted to disappear. My brother waffled on for ten minutes or so, talking about how all North Carolinians were family, and that family was under assault. "This used to be a secure district, but it has become increasingly competitive over the last few years. Without an incumbent, this will be the most dangerous election cycle in years, and frankly we need your help."

Well here it comes, the shameless plug for money. All politics runs on money. The candidate with the money can buy the TV spots, and that wins votes. It's a simple calculation, one my mother, brother, even my late grandfather could make with ruthless efficiency. The shallowness of it all made me sick.

"Well, I think that's enough out of me. Now I plan on spending the rest of this beautiful evening dancing with my wife to this amazing orchestra, and maybe sneaking another piece of that tiramisu when she isn't watching. Thank you all, and have a blessed evening."

He received a standing ovation, shaking hands with Congressman Collinsworth, the Lieutenant Governor, and plenty of others along with a kiss and a photo op with Henrietta. My parents received their fair share of congratulatory handshakes. I stayed seated, increasingly disgusted by the whole spectacle.

After ten minutes the crowd began to break up, spurred at least in part by the music starting. Couples began moving out onto the dance floor as the staff began clearing away used plates and cutlery.

"Thank you." I handed my plate to the young woman standing behind, smiling up at her. When I looked back my mother was approaching, shaking her head at my politeness. She sat down next to me with a dissatisfied huff.

"Melanie, if you can't be supportive of this family," she didn't finish, just shaking her head.

"What are you talking about? I'm here, being supportive."

"You're sulking. You were dismissive and sullen all throughout your brother's speech. Donors notice that. I'd tell you to go out and talk to people, but I'm not sure that wouldn't do more harm than good." She let out an exasperated sigh. "Can you be pleasant and personable for the rest of the evening?"

Emotion was starting to rise in my chest, and I tried to push away the tears. "Yes, Mother."

"Good. Now I doubt anyone but your father will ask you to dance, but if they do you say 'yes' with a smile. And try not to throw too big of a wake if you do dance." I fought back another surge of shame as my mother looked up at my hair and then down over my body. "God, why couldn't you have learned to take care of yourself?"

"I'm sorry." My voice broke as I spoke, small and pathetic. Shame burned inside me, although I couldn't tell if it was due to my weight or my inability to stand up for myself.

"It's not complicated Melanie. Go on a diet, stop sitting on your ass all day in that house." She reached out and touched my cheek, regret evident in her voice. "You have such a pretty face. If you could lose just thirty or forty pounds you could be a real asset to your brother's campaign. As it is," she huffed and shook her head, eyes rolling. "Oh, please don't cry."

"I'm sorry." I could feel a tear running down my face.

"Oh, god, Melanie, stop it." Mother looked around, making sure no one was witnessing my embarrassment. "Go to the ladies room and collect yourself, and fix your makeup before you come back. Your father will want a dance before you go. God knows why."

I stood up without another word, not being sure I could possibly get one out without breaking down, and hustled for the rear entrance to the hall. I found the ladies room and sat in a stall for quite a while, trying to compose myself. Eventually two women came in, and I went completely quiet as they freshened their makeup, laughing and gossiping about something that had nothing to do with me.

Their presence did give me the impetus to stop blubbering, and I made myself stand up as soon as they left. Luckily no one else came in as I repaired the damage my tears had done to my face, and I was in reasonable control of myself as I exited.

The dancing was in full swing as I approached the floor. Dad and my mother were waltzing, along with John and Henrietta. I really wanted to leave, but I knew I'd never hear the end of it if I did. Instead I just headed back to my seat and watched the couples move around the floor. I watched them, seeing how easy it was to pick out the ones who were dancing as friends and those who were, well, more.

The music was beautiful and I let my mind's eye watch Sandra Dalton walk towards me, holding out a hand and pulling to my feet. I imagined what it would feel like to have her arms around me as we swayed to the music, her soft breath in my ear as she told me how beautiful I looked. I wouldn't believe her, but it'd make me all warm inside when she said it anyway.

I was almost smiling when I sensed someone behind me. "Melanie."

I looked up. "Hi, Joe. How are you?" I raised my hand, which he took, leaning forward and giving me a peck on my cheek.

"I'm well. Can I sit?"

"Of course."

Joseph Druthers sat down next to me, his belly stretching against his cummerbund and his cherry cheeks shining. He took out his handkerchief and patted his damp forehead. "I danced with Annabelle Morrison. How does an eighty-five year old have that much energy?"

I laughed. "Are you kidding? I've heard about her and her tennis game. Not surprising." I smiled warmly at him. "So how have you been, Joe?"

"I've been okay, thinking about things." He reached over and patted my knee. "And don't worry, your dad warned me about," he nodded toward my mother.

I laughed. "That's good. I don't think I could handle trying to be charming tonight. So what's new with you?"

"Well, I'm retiring early."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Brenda and the kids are up in Baltimore now, and I'm going to be moving up to be closer. I'm going to buy a boat, and take my grandkids fishing every Saturday." He took a deep breath, looking out over the dancers. "Lucy would have adored this. Seeing everyone dressed up, she loved it." He leaned forward. "And she would have loved your dress."

I smiled back at him. "Thank you. I'm so sorry about Lucy, Joe."

Joe smiled, his eyes sad and far away. "I remember when I was just a young kid, bound and determined to make my mark on the world. Life stretched out forever. And I spent so much, too much, time at work. Lucy never complained, happily taking whatever scraps of time I deigned to throw her way. I always thought there'd be time to take her traveling like she'd always wanted." His eyes misted over, voice shaking. "And then all the time was gone, and no amount of money could get it back." He gave himself a shake and slapped his knees. "So I'm going to do what Lucy would've wanted me to do. Spend time with my family. I don't want to drop dead at my desk and never know them."

"At least you exist to your family. My mother and brother, I think, would be happier if I just disappeared."

"Oh, that's not true."

"Feels like it sometimes." I looked around at the grandiosity of the room. "Like these times."

"Don't let them get you down, okay?"

"Sure, Joe, thanks. Tell Brenda I said 'Hi'."

He stood up. "I will. Goodnight, Melanie."

As he left my parents came off the dance floor. My mother's eyes gave Joe Druther's retreating form an appraising look before turning to me. "Well?"

"He's moving to Baltimore, Mother."

She closed her eyes, exasperated. "You need to give him a reason to stay."

"Well I'm not going to. He's moving to be closer to his daughter and grandchildren, and I wouldn't stop him even if I wanted to."

My dad clapped his hands. "Well, since that's settled, can I have this dance, Doodlebug?"

"Sure, Daddy." I took his hand and let him guide me to my feet. We made our way out to the dance floor. Dad lifted his left hand, spinning me around before putting his right on my back and starting to move into a simple box step. I relaxed and let him lead, pulling to memory the six lessons Bill and I had had before our wedding.

For a few moments it was wonderful, and I was a little girl again, safe in her father's arms. But one thing I know, or at least what I should've learned by now is that happy moments are fleeting.

"Can I cut in?"

Henrietta put her hand on my dad's shoulder, batting her lovely blue eyes and flashing her perfect smile. I stepped aside, emotion swelling as I suddenly felt completely out of place without a partner. Someone touched my back and I turned, meeting my brother's most polished politician smile.

He took my hand and brought me into dance position, but without any of the warmth with which my father had been holding me.

"Having fun, Sis?" His voice would have sounded pleasant to anyone who didn't know him well, but what was behind it, well, it made me shudder.

"Sure, John, it's a nice turn out."

"Yeah, pretty good. Collinsworth always had one of the largest war chests in the Carolinas. This is a real good start, I'd say."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. The thing is, I've talked to Mom about this and, well, I don't think you need to come to anymore of these. I'm sure you'll be happy about that."

"Fine." We continued to move around the floor as he continued, the pleasant tenor of his voice never changing.

"It's just, well, politics is about perception, and I need to have people believe I come from the perfect, all-American family. And you don't project that. At least," he glanced down at my body, "not anymore. So from now on keep your fat ass at home, and don't embarrass me. Understood?"

The smile on his face never slipped an inch. My mouth was hanging open in stunned shock as the music stopped. We separated, John turning toward the orchestra and applauding. I sort of stumbled away, joining the couples that were moving off the floor. I managed to find my way back to our table, my whole body numb.

I stood there for a moment at our empty table before I saw my mother talking with a group of people about forty feet away. Our eyes met, and I knew that she was aware of exactly what John had just said to me, or that they had at least discussed it. Dad was still dancing with Henrietta, and I needed to be gone before he came looking for me, because if he asked me what was wrong I don't think I would be able to avoid making exactly the sort of scene Mother and John wanted me to avoid.

Mom's eyes flicked from me to the exit before turning back to her group, and I knew I'd been dismissed. I'm not sure if she knew how close I was to losing it, or if she'd even care if she did. But the message was the same: 'Get out'.

I took a deep breath as I made my way out of the ballroom to the valet station. Luckily no one stopped me to try to chat me up. I pulled my digital ticket up on my phone and a young man ran off towards the lot where they were keeping the cars.

As I waited the shame and mortification of the last few hours started to threaten to overwhelm my fragile emotional state. Luckily, the valets at the station didn't try to engage me in any small talk, and it was just a few minutes later that I saw my van coming up the drive.

I thanked the young man, slipping him a tip and climbing in. Concern spread across his face as he handed me my keys, but he was too well trained to ask. It just made me more upset, so I drove to the nearest empty lot I could find, near the golf clubhouse, and broke down crying.

I just let myself weep for a few minutes, before I forced myself to stop. I pulled out my phone to turn it off silent and check to see if I had anything from the kids. I had multiple notifications, like always, but only one text. But it wasn't from Bill or the kids.

Sandy - I hope your dance went well. I wish I could have been there. I've been thinking about you all night. Miss you.

My hand went to my mouth when I saw the small picture next to the text. My lip quivered and another sob escaped. I wanted to talk to her so badly. Everything would be so much better if she were here.

My hand was shaking as I pressed her icon. The phone rang once.

"Hey, how'd it go?"

"Sandy?" I couldn't help letting go a sob, which caused the brightness to drain out of her voice.

"Melanie? What's wrong? What happened?"

Suddenly my chest burned with shame. What was I doing? A forty-three year old woman crying because her brother had called her a name? How ridiculous was that? Of course, those thoughts only made me more upset.

"I'm sorry, never mind. I shouldn't have called."

"Melanie." Her voice simultaneously chided me for retreating and begged me to tell her what was wrong. And god, I wanted to. I wanted to throw myself into her arms, let her whisper in my ear that everything was going to be okay. I wanted to hear her tell me I was beautiful, even if I knew it wasn't true.

"Melanie, please tell me what happened."

"Exactly what I knew would happen."

"And what was that?"

"That they don't want me. That I'm a disgusting embarrassment." My voice broke as I said it.

"Oh, sweetheart. Shh." She let me cry for a few moments, whispering kindnesses to me until I got control of myself.

"I'm sorry. I should go home."

"To your empty house?"

"It's not empty. The cats are there."

She chuckled, which made me smile for a second before I let out a sigh.

"Don't go back there, Melanie. Come over, we can talk." I hesitated for a second before she continued, her voice playful. "Please? If you don't I'll just worry about you all night. I won't get any sleep. You want that on your conscience?"

I laughed, just a little. It was a strange sound, given everything else, but it felt nice. Just like it felt nice to be talking to Sandy. Just like it would feel nice to let her hold me.

"Melanie, I promise I won't..."

"Okay. I'm coming."

"Are you sure? I didn't finish what I was going to say." I could almost hear her trying not to smile.

"Don't. Don't say it. Just send me your address."

"Okay. See you in a bit." She hung up, and I had thirty seconds to ponder my life's direction before her text came through. I knew what would happen if I went over there. She'd fix me with those eyes, and I wouldn't be able to say no. I took a deep breath. Would I even want to say no? A sob shook free. The one thing I was sure of was that I didn't want to be alone. No, that wasn't right. I mean, I didn't want to be alone, that was true, but it was more than that. I wanted to be not alone with Sandy. So, I did the only logical thing available. I pressed her address in the text, and directions popped up immediately on my nav system.

Fifteen minutes later I pulled into a subdivision of cookie cutter condos.

"In five hundred feet turn right. Your destination will be on the left."

I obeyed the GPS instructions, watching the numbers change on the mailboxes. I finally reached 1833, and my van announced I'd arrived. I looked up at the non-descript dwelling. There was a hanging flower basket on the porch and a concrete goose in a small, mulched bed to the left. I didn't really peg Sandy as the gardening kind, and that made me wonder if I was even in the right place, at least until the front door opened. Sandy looked out from behind the storm door, wearing silky green pajamas and a concerned look.

I couldn't help but smile as a tear rolled down my cheek. She waved at me through the glass, her own grin spreading across her face. I pulled into the driveway as my heart pounded in my chest, and I took a few deep breaths before getting out. I was heading into Sandy's condo, and I knew what that would mean. I'd had enough trouble saying 'no' to her in public. Here, in her home, I'd have no chance.

But why did I even care? I gave myself an internal shake. Maybe it would happen. Or maybe I was right, and she would finally come to her senses and realize she could do so much better than me. But before that maybe she'd hold me for a little while, and tell me I'm beautiful just one more time.

I was in tears by the time I made it to the door. Sandy was holding it open for me, and I stumbled inside, sobs shaking free from my chest. She kicked the door closed as she gathered me into her arms, and I let go of the ragged control I was keeping on my emotions, weeping openly as I rested my head on her shoulder.

"Oh, baby, shh, I've got you." Sandy rocked me back and forth as I cried, whispering in my ear. "Don't cry, my beautiful girl."

I looked up at her, wanting to protest, but I was too upset to speak. I tried to shake my head, but she just kissed me on the forehead. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to get us some wine, we can cuddle by the fire, and you can tell me everything that happened, and then I'm going to tell you how wrong they were. Okay?"

I bit my lip and nodded, finally finding my voice, even though it was just a whisper. "That sounds wonderful."

Sandy gave me another little peck on the cheek and headed into the kitchen, and I took my first look around. There was a large great room just beyond the entryway with a stone fireplace in front of a good-sized sectional. The vaulted ceiling rose from left to right, where a sliding double door sat closed.

I slipped off my shoes, stretching out my toes after their uncomfortable confinement. I placed my purse on the back of the sofa as Sandy came in behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Want one of these?"

I looked down at the two empty wine glasses she was holding as she pressed a kiss onto the skin of my shoulder, and I giggled, nodding and grinning over my shoulder at her.

"There's my smile!" She turned me around, pressing my body to hers as she held me close. "I love seeing you smile."

"That's good. I seem to do it a lot around you."

"I'm glad."

My head rested against hers, and almost by instinct I lifted my chin so the taller woman could kiss me. Her lips covered mine, and it was long, wet, and glorious. I let my spirit just surrender to the tenderness of Sandy's kiss. Finally, after several perfectly eternal moments, we separated. Sandy nodded toward the plush area rug in front of the gas fireplace.

"Wanna sit down so we can talk?"

"Do we have to talk?"

She ran her fingers through my hair. "Yeah, I think so."

I bowed my head and nodded. She held my hand as I sat down, not an easy thing to do in an evening gown. I glanced at the fireplace. "So, can you start a fire?"

"Yep." Sandy lowered herself down, legs akimbo, reaching over and grabbing a small black remote control. She pointed it at the hearth. "Incendio!" She pressed a button and flames leapt up behind the glass.

I laughed. "You are such a dork."

"Guilty as charged. Now, sweetheart, what happened?"

Sandy poured us each a glass of wine, I began to talk, telling her everything that had occurred. It hurt, but less like twisting a knife in a wound and more like having one removed so it could heal. I could see the anger and revulsion on Sandy's face as I related what my brother had said to me. Tears were rolling down my face, and I expected her to immediately tell me how wrong he was, to tell me I wasn't useless or ugly, but she didn't. Instead she just stood up and held out her hand.

"Dance with me?"

The non sequitur broke my melancholy for a moment. "What?"

"I want to dance with the prettiest girl at the party."

That earned a half chuckle, half sob. "I can assure you that wasn't me. Not by a long shot."

"You would have been to me." She pulled me to my feet. "No one would have outshone my Melanie." Her hands moved over my shoulders and down my arms to my waist. She pulled me close. "And I just want to dance with her."

I sighed and surrendered, putting my arm around her shoulders. "We don't have any music."

Sandy kissed me, just a little peck. "Alexa, play 'Wonderful Tonight' by Eric Clapton."