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My appetite didn’t exist. The butterflies swarming in my stomach left little room for food, but the sight of the bananas on my counter reminded me that it was a better idea to make room than to leave without having even a bite. Choosing wisely, I snatched the fruit from the counter and began flipping the lights of my apartment off.
The peel slid down easily. Careful not to smear my nude gloss, I broke off a piece and popped it into my mouth as I approached the door. My hand grazed the fob of the Bimmer that was parked out front, sending pain through my heart. With skyward brows that crinkled from the aching of my chest, I quickly pushed past the set of keys and grabbed the ring that held a large black fob with a silver button in the top right corner.
Angled downward, and to the right, my chin brushed against my shoulder. Hesitantly, I released a shaky breath while blinking back the prickling of my eyes. A shake of my head centered me again, helping me move forward without reservation.
Today is about you, I reminded myself. Not a car. Not a man. Not his affairs. Not a friend. Not heartbreak. It’s about you, Glacier.
Under the pressure of my thumb, a long, strategically cut key popped out of the large black block of matter. I swung my front door open, welcoming the sun inside. Its promises of vitamins and light left me waiting for rejuvenation.
Before slipping out of the door completely, I grabbed my handbag and the gown I’d steamed three times due to restlessness through the night. I stuffed the rest of the banana in my mouth to free my left hand for the cap I’d designed over the last week.
The loud, obnoxious sound of heavy machinery echoed in the distance, obliterating the silence that I welcomed each morning I emerged from my dwelling. Down the flight of stairs that led straight to my unit was the source. In front of the silver Bimmer that was gifted by Nelson a little over a year ago was a large hook as it climbed the bed of the fire-red truck with Dan’s Towing scribbled all over it.
Pausing momentarily, I observed the manner of precision with which the conductor operated. From the comfort in his posture, I sensed he’d been in the business a number of years. Weariness didn’t dictate his posture and neither did discomfort. He was well-composed, forcing me to correct the slant in my posture.
Slumped shoulders lifted, squared, and aligned with my chest, in which I hiked in the air, along with my chin. Head held high, I continued toward the Honda that was parked in the shade just behind my assigned carport where the Bimmer once rested. The dust that covered the paint made me promise to cleanse it thoroughly over the weekend.
A deep bucket, water, soap, and a rag felt like the closest I’d get to therapy with the near-negative balance in my bank account. In Nelson’s pursuit to punish me for ending our four-year relationship, he’d cleaned our joint account, transferring every dollar he’d given me access to. For years, I’d had access to his funds, freely spending without question or concern on his end. Unrestricted access made focusing on school and finishing my degree much easier than trying to keep up with the full-time hours that employment required.
The twelve hundred dollars in my emergency fund would swiftly dwindle now that the account was scraped clean and a car wash wasn’t one of the expenses I was willing to begin its decline with.
But there’s more. The miniature voice in the back of my head spoke.
But there’s not. I silenced it, refusing to consider the funds it was referring to, funds that I’d reserved for the care of my Nanny, funds that were granted to me after the death of my parents. Without them, my grandmother would require around-the-clock care that I couldn’t supply. The cost of her care home was a necessary expense I wasn’t willing to toggle with.
“God, please work,” I begged, tapping the left button repeatedly.
The sound of the locks lifting after a few tries brought a smile to my lips.
Thank you. With a hand covering my face, I peered toward the sunny sky.
Before climbing into the front seat, I freed my hands by placing everything inside of them on the backseat. Once I settled into the driver’s seat, my chest swelled with pride. A 2008 Honda Accord was the first car I’d purchased with my hard-earned money. I’d imagined passing it on to someone in need, but no one needed it more than me at the moment. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as I released a shaky breath.
It’s fine. Everything is fine. My mother’s voice sounded in my head. Everything is fine, Glacier. I closed my eyes as uncertainty toyed with my ability to believe everything was, indeed, fine. My circumstances said one thing while my mother said another.
Trusting her, I stuffed the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine stalled, forcing me to turn the key backward. In desperation, I twisted it forward again, receiving the same result. My stomach knotted as I pulled for oxygen that had seemingly been sucked from the air suddenly.
“Please,” I groaned.
A third attempt and the engine fired up with little hesitation. Relief reddened my cheeks and soothed my aching heart, momentarily. Refusing to allow my scuffler to quit before I began my journey, I switched gears and began the journey to the stadium where my graduation was being held.
The bright orange gas light that appeared on the dash as I reached the first red light warned me that pushing forward wasn’t the best decision. My lips smacked at the thought of another setback. Nevertheless, I angled the wheels of my tires toward the service station with their gas prices glowing on the large screen, sprouting from the lawn right out front.
At the very first available pump, my wheels halted. I stepped out of my vehicle with my wallet in my hand afraid that if I dead the engine it wouldn’t restart. To eliminate the possibility, I kept it running as I inserted the card associated with the account that Nelson once funded. If the system allowed it, I had every intention of over-drafting to secure a full tank as a farewell present for being blindsided by the drama that unfolded throughout the evening and well into the night.
Gasoline smothered the perfume I’d nearly slathered my skin with to make sure it lasted throughout the day. Peeking at the meter that measured the gallons and fund’s availability, I silently urged them both to continue beyond the twenty-dollar mark, which was a reflection of the account’s balance. As the dial turned and one replaced the zero that followed the two, I exhaled loudly.
“Everything is fine.” I repeated my mother’s words.
With a full tank and confidence brewing in my bones, I continued down Asher until I made a right onto Canton where I’d spend the next ten minutes before taking another turn.
“You be on all of that nonsense. How I’m still surprised when it’s always a process?”
The words belted from me as H.E.R. repeated herself on the track that had started a full minute ago.
“It’s so exhausting. I’m so exhausted.”
The silkiness of her voice was comforting, just as most of her songs were for me. Even when I couldn’t relate to what she was speaking about, I was comforted. Her love songs left me feeling just as exhausted, betrayed, and misunderstood as she did, though it was hardly the case.
