To Break a Filly Ch. 01

She didn't have to open her eyes to know that it was still dark. Why am I awake? The house was silent except for the wind that tapped the branches of the old oak tree against her window. Letting herself drift back to the dream she'd been having, she rolled over, mindlessly throwing her arm to the other side of the bed. Wait... where is he? Her eyes snapped to attention and darted around the bedroom. It wasn't uncommon for him to wake in the middle of the night and head to his computer with a work-related brainstorm, but this didn't feel right. Wasn't his shirt hanging on the bedpost? She sat up, her eyes adjusting to the black of the room, and then she heard footsteps downstairs. She reached for her robe and pulled it on in a sleepy daze. The floorboards in her old Tudor creaked as she made her way down the stairs and toward the kitchen. When she passed his office she nearly cried out in surprise. Is he packing?

"Uhm... What are you doing?"

He did cry out. "Lindsay! Why are you up?"

"Going somewhere?"

His eyes softened and silence set back into the house's bones. She stood there, holding her nightgown closer to her as if its threads would hold her together. She waited what for what felt like hours before she repeated, "Are you going somewhere?" Those soft brown eyes looked away and hardened once more.

"Yes."

"When are you coming back?"

Silence. "Are you coming back?"

He turned and she heard his suitcase snap closed. She saw his shoulders shrug maybe half an inch. So miniscule was the gesture that had she not been staring at him with the intensity of a huntress she wouldn't have seen it. In an instant his back when ramrod straight, he snatched up his bag, and pushed past her through the doorway. She reached out for him on instinct and caught hold of the arm with the bag in it. As he met her gaze, she arranged her face into the most pleading look of love that she could and was struck cold at the distance she saw in him. She felt the tears coming but couldn't bring herself to look away. He grabbed her wrist, roughly threw her arm back to her side and headed for the front door.

"I... don't... understand." He froze at her words, just for a heartbeat, and then he was gone. What compelled Lindsay to run after him wasn't just love but desperation. She bolted to the door, her robe flying behind her, and dashed out into the warm night air just in time to see him get into a shiny black towncar. "Derek, wait!" She beat her fists against the blacked-out window. "Where are you going? Please, whatever it is, we can fix this. I'll do anything, I swear, I can fix this. Please don't go. Please, Derek!" The car pulled away and he was gone.

***

Morning came and found Lindsay in shambles. She was sitting at her kitchen table working on the same cup of coffee she'd made herself three hours ago. She'd been replaying their entire relationship over and over again in her head trying to find the hole. She wasn't particularly upset by his absence but she was searching for the error all the same. We met in the coffee shop across the street from the office. He asked me to dinner that Friday. He called me later that day to reschedule because he "couldn't wait until Friday". He told me he loved me. I met his mother. He met my father. He moved in. He proposed. I quit my job. We planned our wedding. We picked out a new bedroom set. We thought of baby names. We planned the honeymoon. We had the rehearsal dinner.

No matter how many times she ran over their life in her head she couldn't find the weak link. Everything had gone perfectly according to textbook. But that couldn't be possible, could it? It couldn't just be perfect one day and gone the next? A strange sound registered in the back of Lindsay's mind and something told her that this sound may be significant, though she couldn't remember why. She wished the sound would just go away and leave her to her brooding. Why would Derek leave in the middle of the night without even the tiniest attempt at an explanation? Where was the reason? Just give me a reason! We met in the coffee shop... What is with all the racket? He told me he loved me... I can't think with all the noise! We met in coff- Damn it!

The front door flew open with a bang and Marie came storming down the hall. "Jesus Linds, I've been knocking for ten minutes! Why the hell didn't you answer the door? We're late for your hair appointment. I sent Daddy to pick up the dress, he should be here any minute and- ...Linds?"

Lindsay looked up at her sister. She didn't know what emotion to wear - despair, anger, anxiety, they all would have fit - so she left her face blank. "Lindsay, are you okay? You look like you haven't slept a wink. It's cold feet, isn't it? It's just a wedding, for God's sake Linds, people do it every day! It's not like you have anything to be afraid of, there's nobody safer than Derek. Speaking of, did he run off to work again? Because you know that he promised to take this one day off! It's not like it's hard but it seems like that man would be marrying his job today if he could..." Lindsay turned her ears off. She knew that this could go on for a while with Marie. She looked back down to her coffee. Coffee... We met in the coffee...

"LINDSAY!"

"What?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"No."

Marie sighed, took the coffee out of her sister's hands and dumped it down the sink. She returned with Lindsay's purse and keys. "We gotta get going if we're going to have Stacie do your hair, otherwise we're going to get stuck with some raggedy excuse for a stylist who got her certificate online. Lindsay, I swear girl if you don't wipe that... whatever look off your face and light a fire under your ass this is going to be one painful day."

"Oh I'm sure it will be."

"And Lord knows I didn't sign on for this when I said I would be your maid-of-honor. If I'd have known you would be this pathetic about the whole ordeal, I would have said- wait... What did you say?"

"I said I'm sure that it will be."

"Will be what?"

"Painful."

"Oh Lindsay, honey. Dresses ain't that bad! You're gonna be just fine. And think of how happy it'll make Derek to see you all spiffed up!"

"Yeah, I don't think he'll see it."

"I'm guessing he's never ever seen you- what do you mean he won't see it?"

"Well, you know, seeing as how he took off in the middle of the night, I'm guessing he probably won't be attending" Lindsay felt something inside her snap with the words. All at once she knew what emotion to feel. Rage.

"He... what?"

"The god-damned weasel left without a word of explanation about three hours ago, that's what. That selfish prick." Lindsay spat it all out as though it were poison threating to consume her. "The day we're supposed to be married that no-good, arrogant ass packs up his crap and makes to leave while I was sleeping. God knows I wouldn't have even known if I hadn't woken up!" Hetoldmehelovedme Hetoldmehelovedme Hetoldmehelovedme.

There was that silence again. Not quite the same desolate silence that Derek had left but more like the silence that comes right before a thunderclap. Marie shifted uncomfortably on her chair and Lindsay fumed. The phone rang, saving Marie for the moment and she bustled over to answer it. "Lindsay's phone, this is Marie... Oh hey, Daddy!... There's a problem with the dress?" There's a problem with the groom, too. "We'll figure it out later. Can you go ahead and take it over and leave it with Stacie?... I know, but we need a little 'sister time'... Yeah, she's fine... We'll see you later... Love you, too, buh-bye!" Marie hung the phone back up on the wall, hesitated and then headed into the pantry. She reemerged a moment later with a bottle of Tennessee's finest and a plastic cup. She took her seat back at the table, poured a glass, then handed Lindsay the bottle. "You know" she said, "I always did think he was pretty boring." Lindsay tossed back a swig from the bottle and smiled. This was why Marie was her maid-of-honor.

***

Moving forward was the easy part. Lindsay had a mountain of experience in that department. Marie helped her make the calls to the caterer, the chapel, and the guests. They returned the gifts and the dress that same day and cancelled the airline tickets to Hawaii. Lindsay even shredded the clothes Derek had left behind for good measure. She washed the sheets to get rid of the smell of him and threw out the soy-milk and sugar- free snacks that he was so fond of. She tore up the garden they had planted the summer before and with every pull she severed a memory that they had shared. In one day, he was gone. It was done. Lindsay called her old boss the next day and asked for her job back. He was more than happy to help her out "given the circumstances" and while her previous position as Department Head was filled, he gave her a temporary receptionist gig until she could "get back on her feet". She found that she didn't even have to fake strength when she went back for her first day. She had rid herself of him and there was nothing left to feel sorry about. She held her head just as high as she always had and kept herself busy enough to suppress any other feelings she may have had on the matter. Weeks passed, and while questions crept up occasionally, she brushed them off with a casual redirection of her attention.

And then there was delivery day. Lindsay had come home from work about an hour later than usual and was just setting about making dinner for herself when her doorbell rang. She turned the heat off on the stove and went to answer. The delivery man greeted her with a friendly smile and handed her the signature pad. "Delivery for Mrs. Hutton from The Sleep King, where beds are cheap and dreams are free." Our bed.

"Actually it's Miss Riley, and I don't want it."

"My mistake ma'am, I was looking for 526 Oak Lane."

"You have the right address; I just don't want the bed. Take it back please."

"I'm sorry ma'am, we have a specific return policy that states that unless the furniture is damaged upon delivery, there are no refunds."

"I don't care about my refund, charge me if you want, but I don't want the bed."

"Uhm, Mrs. Hutton, I can't just take it back, store policy states that I have to deliver the bed."

"Miss Riley. And I don't care what your stupid policy says, I don't want the damn bed!"

"Mrs. Hut-"

"RILEY!"

"Mrs. Riley, I have to deliver the bed ma'am, it's my job."

"Then go deliver it somewhere else, anywhere else. I don't want it." She slammed the door in his face. She returned to the kitchen and started the flame back up under her chicken. A few minutes later she heard the truck pull away and she went to the window to watch it go. Good riddance. To her shock, the bed was sitting on her front lawn. "What the hell?" She went out into the yard and looked down at her bed. Their bed. THE bed. This bed was evil. It was everything that Derek had been. Expensive, beautiful, dark. She hated the bed. She swung her foot back and kicked its post, hard... and immediately regretted it. She felt a pain shoot from her toe all the way up into her heart. So suddenly it came on that she dropped to one knee and cradled herself, biting back tears and curses. She knelt there, broken and unmoving, for a few bare moments before standing and resigning herself back to the house. Her chicken was burnt. She went to the phone, ordered a pizza, and limped into the living room to elevate her foot and wait for dinner. Halfway through Iron Chef America, her doorbell rang again and she lumbered over to retrieve her pizza.

"That'll be $14.35." A pock-marked teen stood before her wearing the greasy uniform of the Pizza Palace. Finally, something I want. She gave the boy a twenty and told him to keep the change. "Thanks, ma'am. Oh, by the way, there's a bed on your lawn." She slammed the door again.

***

Lindsay woke up on her couch, a piece of half eaten pizza lay on her stomach, an empty wine bottle sat between her legs, and some Dr. Phil wanna-be was preaching on the television. She tossed the slice back into the box and headed upstairs to take a shower and dress for work. It was still about an hour too early to head into the office but she needed to find a new coffee house anyway so she grabbed her keys and started for her car. She made it all the way there without looking up at the bed. She half hoped that someone had come by in the middle of the night and claimed it. She started up her old Jeep, braced herself, and turned to face her newest enemy. Much to her dismay, the bed was still there and on that cursed bed, was a dog. And not just any dog, but possibly the ugliest dog she had ever seen. No, not possibly, definitely. Definitely the ugliest dog. In fact, if it hadn't been wagging its tail, she might have thought it was a freakishly-large, mutant lab-rat escaped from some secret experimental facility. The dog stared at her with impossibly large, black eyes. Good, she thought, they belong together. She put the car into reverse and headed off to work.

Lindsay had, once upon a time, been the marketing department head for Southern Men's Designer Boutique in San Antonio. It was her dream job. She hadn't gone to college for lack of motivation but had always had a love for men's suits, her daddy being the king of dressing well when she was growing up. It had taken her ten years to work her way up to the top, but she had made it. Now, she worked as a clerk in the front of the corporate offices. She shared the desk with a true Texan woman. Chessie was five-foot-nothing if you didn't count the four-inch lift her platinum blonde hair gave her, complete with a huge chest and a thick drawl. During her days at the top of the corporate ladder, Lindsay had never crossed paths with Chessie and she couldn't for the life of her imagine why.

"Hey Girl! Yer in awful early today. Everythin' alright?"

"Yeah. I just needed to get in here early so I could..." Well I don't have anything to actually work on. "... look for a new pair of shoes online." Brilliant.

"Girl, I know what ya mean. I been truckin' 'round in these same ole boots fer way too long now. Hey I got an idea! Hows 'bout you and me take a long lunch today and head down to the Riverwalk and see if we can't find ya somethin'?"

Crap. "Well, I actually-"

Lindsay didn't have to finish her sentence because that was the moment Veronica decided to come into work. Veronica is the ice-queen that every mother warns their daughter about. She is Cinderella's step-mother on steroids, the witch who poisoned Snow-White on her cycle, and the sales rep from "Pretty Woman" all rolled into one psychotic mega-monster. She used to work in the Human Resources department but had, upon Lindsay's resignation, been promoted. Her high-pitched falsetto voice pierced Lindsay's ears like a thousand massive migraines.

"Lindsay Riley, is that you?" No, it's Martha-fucking-Stewart. "I thought I recognized you! It's been way too long." No such thing. "Last I heard you quit your job to be a stay-at-home mom. I thought for sure you'd be knocked-up by now. What are you doing hanging out around here again?"

Bless her little heart, THIS is where Chessie decided to pipe up. "Oh she and Derek ain't together no more. And since they ain't and she ain't fixin' to be no mamma, she came back here to work again 'cept there wasn't nothin' but this little ole spot for her so she's just stayin' here 'til she's back on her feet and then she's movin' up to the big-times. Ain't that right, Lindsay?" Kill. Me. Now.

Lindsay could have smacked the smug look on Veronica's face right off into next year. "You don't say... Now, I'm real sorry to hear about your misfortunes. So sad. Oh but where are my manners?" Veronica said turning to Chessie. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

"Well I'm Chessie, Miss Veronica. I already know who you are from all the posters they put up last month. They sure didn't do you no justice in them advertisements."

"Thank you. Chessie, was it? What an interesting name."

Chessie missed the superiority in Veronica's voice. "It's short for Chesapeake-Baybie. My momma done gave it to me 'cuz she went up to Baltimore when she was pregnant and she saw the Chesapeake Bay and she says when I was born my eyes was the same color as the water. My eyes woulda been blue only there was some algae problem or something that year so that's why the water was brown and momma said that's why my eyes is brown."

"Fascinating. Well, it's been lovely catching up and I really hope you find someone special Lindsay. Maybe I'll get my husband to introduce you to one of his friends. Certainly would be an upgrade, now wouldn't it? Take care!" Veronica strutted off; one high-heeled step after another, the clacking sound of her last-season shoes reminding me why Poe wrote 'The Tell-Tale Heart".

***

Up until now, home hadn't lost its comfort factor for Lindsay, but since she knew that going home meant going to the place where the bed was, she decided to take a detour. She wasn't avoiding her problems per se, she was just putting them off. Marie lived in a studio apartment in the heart of San Antonio and it was about as modern as Texas got. Lindsay parked in the parking garage of one of the nearby department stores and took the elevator up to the fourth floor. As the doors were closing, she heard someone shout for her to hold it. She stuck her hand out and a man who looked to be in his early thirties stepped in beside her.

"What floor?" Lindsay asked.

"Seven." His voice came out in a pant and it was then that Lindsay noticed the jogging shorts and sweat drenched towel. Right about the time they were passing the second floor, she could smell him. Man-sweat. Whatever he had just been doing, she hated him for it. When men sweat in reality, it's not like the beads of steamy glory you see rolling down Brad Pitt's neck as he battles to the death in Troy, it's more like the inside of someone's shoe was microwaved and then stuffed into the radiator in your house. Lindsay felt a gag starting to choke her and she did her best to inhale through her mouth. Two more floors...

"So do you live in the building?" The man asked through heavy breaths. Lindsay just smiled and shook her head. She was starting to feel like one of those characters in the cartoons who get sick and their faces turn a nasty shade of pale green. One more floor...

"Visiting your boyfriend?" She shook her head again and huffed out "My sister," just in time for the elevator to ding and open the doors. She rushed out, welcoming the fresh air, and started down the hallway to her sister's door.

"So what you're telling me is that you were in an elevator with a man who basically asking whether or not you had a boyfriend and you didn't even notice whether or not he was attractive?" The sisters were sitting on the couch with grilled cheese sandwiches and wine. Marie had been drilling Lindsay for the past twenty minutes on everything from the straightness of the mystery man's teeth to the color of his tennis shoes.

"I'm telling you," Lindsay said with an exasperated sigh, "that there was nothing to notice because it smelled like over-heated roadkill."

"Well what did you expect, Linds, obviously the man had been working out! All I'm saying is that you gotta get back up on the horse at some point and this guy was obviously interested in you."

"I don't know where you're getting this from. We shared an extremely rancid and thankfully short-lived elevator ride. Besides, what man in their right mind tries to pick someone up while they are sweating like a pig. I'm just saying, you like a girl, you better damn-well take a shower before you say anything."