Perfect Stranger

Annabella left the hospital soon after her last consultation with Dr Drake.  His insistent requests to contact his office to set up follow-up appointments almost really drove her insane.  She had to get out of there …. She hated the way he analysed her every word, twitch, facial expression.  It became almost impossible to say something without wondering how it would be interpreted.  Did she pass the test?  Is she crazy? 

The way he spoke to her with trademark sympathy also drove her to tears … and she is tired of crying.  Tired of paying for someone else’s mistakes – her mother …. Her father …. She’s had enough. 

And she had to get out of those clothes … although washed, the stigma of that depressing day clung to it as if married to the fabric – she could never wear them again.

She fell asleep on the couch after taking a long shower.  Outside, the early-morning sun was already spreading a brightness over the day.

She slides down the couch too tired to lift her head.  It was a mistake coming to Bridgeport.  She had so many questions.  She had to find answers ….  She never planned to run in to Graeme again.  She didn’t even know he was here.  Seeing him again opened up all the old wounds, brought back memories, good ones and bad ones - and ….. hope …. just to be shattered again.  Engaged.  God, the way he looked at her – he used to look at her that way …… if only ….

Maybe Dr Drake is right.  Perhaps this is the closure she was looking for – an important healing step.  Hurts like Hell.  She thought.  Denial never hurt this much.  Hope never hurt this much. 

She felt that anxious feeling again – as if she could hardly breathe.  If only she could find a way to escape this lonely midnight place in her soul that haunts her, driving her to the edge of madness.

Her mind taunts her with images of her mother, of her childhood.  Like a bad dream they haunt her, not only when she sleeps – sometimes in the daylight hours too.  She took a deep breath, thrusting the images from her mind.

The only way to rid myself of these demons is to face them head-on. 

Annabella’s mother died without leaving a Will, but being her Mother’s only relative she inherited her little house of horrors – as Annabella would call it.  Not much else in the form of money.  Only a very small amount stashed away in a savings account.  She took up a bar tending job in Twinbrook, but she hardly made enough money to cover the municipal rates and taxes on the house each month – inevitably ending up in huge debt and having her electricity and water cut off. 

She felt dizzy and agonized and her mouth felt dry and sticky.  She got up, brushed her teeth and left the apartment in a hurry, anxious to get away.

En route to nowhere she walked into a boutique mere blocks away from her hotel room.  The shop was crowded with attractive women who looked happy and confident and pleased with themselves.  She felt self-conscious, stared at.  It bothered her.  More than she thought it would.  A tall woman walked over to her.  She felt like running away …

“May I help you?” the woman asked.  She was pretty and polite – a little stuck on herself, young, dressed smartly in a beige jacket and comfortable slacks. 

“I ….. I need a change.”  Annabella answered finally.

The woman smiled at her.  “Don’t we all honey” she replied looking at Annabella’s hair, her drab, wrinkled clothes … it made her feel extremely uncomfortable.  “What did you have in mind?”  She asked finally, scanning Annabella’s hair and clothes and shoes.

“Different clothes …. Different hair ….. different everything.”  Annabella answered growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment.

“Mmmm yes.  Definitely have to do something about the hair.”  The woman said.  “Do you have anything in particular in mind?  A specific colour?” she asked, her question laced with judgment.

Annabella’s eyes met hers in the mirror.  Fuck her.  She thought.

“Any colour” she said holding the woman’s gaze “….. as long as it’s black”. 

In the mood for a drink and not particularly in the mood for her own company Annabella ended up at the same dive bar she saw Graeme again.  She watched people without them knowing, standing at the front door where she can see them coming in or leaving, mostly men.

The door opens again and another man walks in accompanied by a gust of wind – as if blown in by it.  She briefly looks at the latest newcomer.  Watches him for a moment as he looks around, he notices someone familiar at the bar and walks over to meet him.  She was distracted long enough not to notice the attractive man now standing in front of her holding a Cosmopolitan.  He offers it to her: “This stuff will give you a headache” he says in a deep voice, full of secrets.

“So, you want me to have a headache then?” she replied with a smile. 

“No.  Just thought I’d bring you a refill”. He answered.

“And you know what I’ve been drinking … because?”

“… because I’ve been watching you …. You’re hard to miss.” He answers without missing a beat.

He smiles and looks into Annabella’s eyes so intensely it has an effect.

“I’m going to grab something to eat.  You are welcome to join me….  if you wish.” He flashes a smile at her and turns around and walks towards the bar.  He orders a pizza and Annabella watches him stroll to straight to the back of the restaurant where there are plenty of empty chairs, he chooses one and sits on it without a word or a glance.

She’s not sure what makes her walk over to him ….. too many Cosmo’s, confidence from her make-over or intrigue …. Maybe just the smell of fresh pizza filling her nostrils.

“What’s your name?”

“Annabella”.

“So do people call you Anna or Bella?”

“They call me Annabella” she says “It short for … Annabella.” 

“Very well then … Annabella” he says smiling.  If her comment caught him off-guard his doing a damn good job at hiding it – not even a flinch. 

“What are you doing alone in a place like this?”

“What are you, the bar police?” she asks sarcastically.

His gaze intensifies.  Like a cat playing with his prey.  “I was just wondering” he says “you don’t look like a dive bar person”. 

“I felt like a drink.  This was close enough.” She replied and looks over her shoulder to a couple of people on the dance floor.  “And I felt like dancing.  Music here sucks.”

“Well, if you’re going to hang around at dive bars let me at least take you to a decent one – if there is such a thing.  The Grind owns up the the name ‘dive’ from the outside, but the food is decent and the music far better than this.  We can take a cab if you’re keen.”

“You sound like a regular dive bar person” she giggled.

He gave her an easy smile. “ I’ve lived in Bridgeport all my live.  I guess you may say I’ve done my fair bit of exploring and have a pretty good idea what the City has to offer.”  He takes a sip of his Whiskey.

“And you ended up at a dive bar?” she asks

“Maybe you’re the one who’s the bar police” he says winking at her.

His piercing blue eyes intensifies and Annabella’s inhibitions flies out the window.  They end up talking.  Once she started she could not stop.  He was a good listener.  She could not explain the way he made her feel.  How her skin hummed in his presence. 

They shared a cab like he suggested.  Everyone was drinking far too much, dancing and having a good time – this time Annabella was one of them.  The later it gets, the louder and drunker the patrons become.

Never leaving her side and always keeping her glass filled the man watches her dance the night away, joins her occasionally – never too close to make her feel uncomfortable, but close enough to ward off any other unwelcome advances.  She felt wanted again and the feeling is fueled by Cosmopolitans and plans to stay for the night.

She leans forward and gives him a spontaneous kiss on his lips.  His arms went around her, pulling her closer, kissing her again softly.  She was certain, in that moment, she could face down a thousand images of her mother, she could take on her father and she could live with the idea of Graeme never kissing her again and for that small miracle alone she would do what it takes to keep her stranger here as long as she could.

“Let’s get out of here” his voice says quietly, his breath touching Annabella’s ear, her breast pressed against his arm.

“Where do you live” she asks seductively.

“Not far from here.”