Abby

This novel is dedicated to those individuals who fight for their dreams in defiance of the rules they are given, instead choosing to follow their own paths, whatever they may be, even in the face of personal sacrifice.

“Not my manner of thinking but the manner of thinking of others has been the source of my unhappiness.” ― Marquis de Sade.

***

The expensive pen bled blue ink over the crisp paper as my clients signed the final documents for my fifth house sale this month. It was something I should have been proud of, given the current economy. I congratulated them on their purchase before walking them to their car, making cheerful small talk, and waving one last time as they drove off.

The blistering sun warmed me, beating on the hint of cleavage from my open-cut dress. My legs soaked up the heat from the pavement as if they had gone weeks without its warmth. I breathed the aroma of summer deep into my lungs, relishing it for a few seconds before exhaling and returning inside.

The few realtors present, older, preferring the familiarity of the office to mobile work, stood and applauded me. It was the tradition whenever someone sold a house, the fast, out-of-time clapping filling the air as if they had just performed a miracle. It always made me feel a little awkward when they did that. I was shyer than most other agents and never comfortable in the spotlight.

I gave them a brief smile before hurrying to my office and closing the door, pretending to be busy.

“Have I really been doing this for almost seven years now?” I asked, staring out the window, watching the water flow by.

The achievements lining my wall told my story: Designations, certifications, and Realtor of the Year awards, all marking my professional successes. As I sat for several minutes, remembering my journey, I finally turned to look at the picture of my fiancé on the bookcase.

I had met Dan, a quiet and reserved man two years older than me, at a party six years ago through a mutual friend. It had been rough at first as he had been quite jealous of my social interaction at work, especially when I did house showings alone, but we had worked through it, settling into a steady relationship after a while. His jealousy occasionally flared up, but it had never become a serious issue.

He proposed to me last spring, and we had planned to get married this summer, but his company offered him an unexpected promotion a few months ago. It came with a handsome increase in salary but at the cost of significantly more travel. After some discussion, we decided it was important for him to settle into his new role and moved the date forward until sometime next year.

“We should celebrate with a nice dinner somewhere tonight,” I thought. Money was not an issue, and perhaps a lovely evening out would make me appreciate today’s sale a little more.

I jumped as my cell phone rang, interrupting my thoughts as Dan’s face appeared on the screen. He had an uncanny knack for calling whenever I thought of him.

“Did you know I was thinking about you, Dan, or did you just miss me?”

“Hey, Babe. How is your day? Did the buyers agree to the terms?”

“Yes, they just signed and left. How are you?”

“I’m great. Just wanted to check and see how my girl was doing.”

“How about we go out somewhere nice for dinner tonight? Celebrate the house sale.”

“That sounds like a great idea. What are your plans for the afternoon?”

“Not much. I need to drop the buyers’ deposit off at the lawyer’s office and then have another property to show at three.”

“OK. Let me know when you’re finished. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

“Sounds good. See you then. Love you.”

I picked up my keys as I hung up, stepping out into the main common area. A now familiar smell of stale coffee and photocopy paper greeted me as I waved to the receptionist. The mid-day sun embraced me again as I exited the building, causing me to squint and fumble with my purse for my sunglasses before putting them on, finally dashing the short length of sticky asphalt to my waiting car.

As I drove through the streets, I thought about the quiet little area I called home. At twenty-eight, I had never traveled far from my hometown, while many of my peers had visited various exotic destinations, sometimes once a year or more. I wondered how they could do it and still stay out of debt, or if they were secretly living beyond their means.

Even with my shyness, I had done very well for myself in real estate, and I was always savvy with money, preferring to save it rather than spend it on frivolous things. I owned a small but cozy home, having opted not to move in with Dan to avoid the anguish it would cause my parents. Despite their preaching about living together before marriage, he still spent most nights there. Not that I didn’t love being with him, but I did often wish for more time to myself, taking in an exciting novel or binging a new show alone. Sometimes, he could be a little too smothering.

The receptionist gave me a familiar smile as I arrived at the law office, stepping out of the afternoon heat into the cool air-conditioned building. “Hello, Abby; how are you today?”

“Hi, Marcy. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. Can I help you with something?”

I pulled the buyer’s deposit from my purse. “Dropping off a check. Could I get a receipt for that? Oh, and do you mind if I also use the ladies’ room while I’m here?”

“No problem. You can see it on your left through those doors. I’ll get your receipt.”

As I walked through the mahogany-lined corridor, my high heels echoed on the patterned marble floor. I entered the restroom, stepped to the sink, and adjusted my dress while checking my makeup in the mirror. A tall, slim woman with green eyes and blonde, semi-curly hair that fell over her shoulders looked back at me. I knew men found my ample curves attractive, as I would often catch their glances from the corner of my eye, the sudden attention making me flush with embarrassment.

I checked myself one last time, ensuring everything was in order, before washing my hands and returning to Marcy at reception.

“Here you go, hun. Good luck out there. Stay out of the heat!”

“Thanks, Marcy. Take care.”

As I headed to my three o’clock showing, I thought of my parents. We had moved from South Africa years ago when my father’s job required him to transfer, just before I started high school. They were very religious people and had always been more strict with me than my friends’ parents.

I was awkward bringing boys around my parents in high school and college, never knowing how they would react, so I mostly avoided dating as I grew up. There had been a few dates before Dan, but nothing serious had developed. Even though I was twenty-two and living on my own when I met him, I was still hesitant for him to meet my family. They had wanted me to marry a Christian man, and while he came from a religious home, he had rejected it at a young age. Our shared history of being brought up in strict homes was one of the things that Dan and I had bonded over in the beginning.

Although my parents initially voiced their disapproval of him, they warmed up after we attended church with them on a few special occasions, like Christmas or Easter. Thankfully, they developed a closer relationship with him after he took a traditional approach and asked my father for permission to marry me before he proposed. I sometimes teased Dan that they liked him more than me now. The diamond ring around my finger sparkled back at me as I smiled. “It’s not like they have a choice anymore.”

The car’s tires gripped the sticky pavement as I pulled to the curb outside my three o’clock showing. As I entered the vacant home, I glanced around, ensuring that all the lights were on and everything was staged neatly. After familiarizing myself with the layout again, I sighed as I sat on the sofa, mentally preparing myself for the prospective buyers to arrive. They were an older couple from the same church as my parents. I had known them when I was younger, but I stopped regularly attending years ago.

“Another house, another showing,” I said to myself. It would be like any other, helping the wife picture her furniture in the rooms, letting her fall in love with the house while the husband meandered to the basement to check the foundation and plumbing. It had become routine.

“Well, happy wife, happy life, they say.”

I hadn’t been able to put my finger on it, but things seemed to be different over the past few weeks. Monotonous. Lately, it gnawed at me even more.

The doorbell interrupted my thoughts. I stood, straightening my dress as I walked to the door, putting on a big welcoming smile and inviting the couple in like they were close friends I hadn’t seen in years.

The showing lasted forty minutes. As predicted, the husband spent most of his time in the basement while I gave his wife a tour of the house, selling her on the open-concept kitchen and the ample sunlight coming in from the large front windows. As I walked them back to their car, I watched him open the door for her lovingly.

“I’ll let you know if we’re interested,” she said.

“That sounds great. I’ll be waiting to hear from you. If you need anything or have questions, you have my card.”

“Will we see you in church this Sunday?”

“Perhaps.” I lied.

As the car drove off, I could imagine them bantering.

“It’s a lovely house, dear. Don’t you think?” He would respond, as she had expected, “It’s too damned expensive.”

I turned back to enter the house again, my high heels echoing on the hardwood floors as I walked through, turning off the lights as I went, making sure everything was in place. As I locked the front door behind me, I sighed as I headed to my car, my mind distant on the short drive back to the office.

Alone at my desk, I pulled my cell phone from my purse, checking for new messages before texting Dan to let him know I had finished work. I sank into my chair as I waited for the familiar chime of his response.

“Another day is done,” I thought.

Was it supposed to feel like this at twenty-eight? My career was going well, I was engaged, and I had two loving, if a little overbearing, parents; a perfect life for most people. But lately, the days seemed a little emptier. It was like being on a carnival ride that kept going around and around, the music ringing in your ears. It was fun… until it wasn’t anymore.

My friend Mandy, who liked to say that she ‘escaped to the big city,’ always seemed full of life when we talked. Although vague about the details, she would tell me she was doing photography or modeling, her excitement often making me feel like I was missing out on something.

I opened my phone, deciding to send her a quick text, “Hey girl, how are things?”

“Hey, you!” came the almost immediate reply. “Busy, but let’s catch up. It’s been too long. Why don’t you come to the city for dinner this Friday? My treat!”

“That sounds great. I could use a distraction.”

As soon as I hit send, Dan’s text also arrived, “Hey babe, be there in 15 minutes. I made reservations at that new Italian restaurant, Marzano’s.”

“Sounds good!”

A lovely Italian restaurant was not the worst thing I could imagine.

❖

Soft classical music lingered in the air as I sipped on my second glass of wine at dinner. Again lost in thought, I was faintly aware of Dan trying to tell me about a recent sales presentation. He was always very proud of his work with the new position and never missed a chance to brag about how he had closed this or that sale. Something I would smile and nod at, pretending to be interested.

I tried to figure out what had been eating at me. It was as if a light was not shining at full brightness, imperceptible at first until you put it next to other lights, but you couldn’t unsee it after you did. I scanned the other patrons, watching them as they engaged in their lively conversations. The low drone of their voices competed in my ears for dominance with the classical music as I wondered how many of them secretly saw things as I had been.

Dan’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Earth to Abby…”

Whoops! Busted. “Hmmm? Oh, sorry, you were talking about your sales meeting….”

Dan cut me off, annoyed that I hadn’t given him my full attention. “Sales presentation. What’s going on in that brain of yours tonight that’s so important?”

“I’ve just been a bit off, I guess. It’s nothing. Sorry, go on.”

“You have been working a lot. You’re just tired.”

Dan’s half-hearted attempt at appreciating how I was feeling didn’t go unnoticed, and I sighed as he launched back into talking about his sales presentation. I told myself he wasn’t inconsiderate. He got so wrapped up in whatever he found interesting that he couldn’t see that others weren’t as excited. He cared for me in his way.

I nodded at him again with a half-hearted effort of my own as I took a big gulp of my wine.

After finishing our meal, we headed out into the warm summer evening. The muggy air dampened my exposed skin with a fine sweat before a cool breeze from the river washed it away. I slipped my hand around his arm as we walked to his car.

Dan looked at me with a wink. “So. My place?”

I smiled at him, pulling myself closer to him. “Mmm hmm.”

❖

I lay on Dan’s shoulder, absently running my fingers through his soft chest hair. He was a gentle lover, if maybe a little careful, not that I minded much. I enjoyed feeling close to him when we made love, but it always occurred to me that Dan had been the only lover I had known. There was nothing else to compare to other than some exaggerated stories I had heard from my friends. I told myself I didn’t care; plenty of them had recounted horrific tales of lovemaking gone wrong, ranging from bad to plain nasty to ‘what were they even thinking?’ The idea of getting to know someone new made me nervous.

Still, I wouldn’t mind if we turned up the passion a few notches someday soon.

“Oh, I was planning to meet Mandy in the city for dinner on Friday. Do you mind?”

“Mandy.”

Dan and Mandy did not mesh at all. She was always bright and flirty, contrasting with his somber and reserved demeanor. The two had never gotten along. I responded casually, trying to avoid an argument before bed.

“I haven’t caught up with her for months by phone, and it’s been almost three years since I’ve seen her in person.”

“Well, have fun, I guess.”

As he rolled over, I knew Dan would never outright forbid me to go, but he wasn’t pleased. We said goodnight as I tried to banish the feelings of boredom haunting me. I reminded myself of how fortunate I was to have the comfortable life I did when so many others weren’t making ends meet or maybe still searching for a partner.

Dan slowly drifted off to sleep, his soft snoring creating a gentle rhythm. As I fell asleep beside him, I decided that catching up with Mandy and basking in her happy-go-lucky personality was just what I needed to put that little spark back into my life.