Stages of Grace - By Carey Heywood Page 0,19

I laugh out loud when I see the same driver pull into my parking lot from a different entrance.

"Serves you right," I mumble. "You drove like an asshole, and I still beat you. Ha!"

That small victory is enough to cheer me up and make me laugh, calming me a bit. I’m setting up the sign-in sheet when Nikita walks in.

"Good morning," I greet her happily.

Nikita looks at me for a beat. "You seem to be chipper this morning. What's going on?"

"I have been in a bit of a funk, haven’t I?"

"A bit…" Nikita deadpans, which makes me laugh.

"Yes, well, I'm done with that."

"I'm happy to hear that."

Nikita asks me a couple of times what has changed or what has been bothering me. I avoid the questions, not wanting to get that personal at work and tell Nikita that with the holidays and being sick I have just been missing my parents more. This isn’t completely untrue. It just doesn’t include the fact that I had decided I'm not going to let Jon walk all over me anymore. If Jon can’t accept some responsibility and start pulling his own weight, I'm done.

I’m still young, and while I currently do everything in my power to downplay my looks, I know I'm pretty. If Jon can’t handle being civil to me, I’m sure someone else will. Not that I want that, because even though I’m furious with Jon, I still love him and am hopeful that we can get past this. If we can’t get past it, I know that I won’t be happy walking on eggshells the rest of my life. I would rather die alone than accept the way Jon makes me feel any longer. Things are going to change. How much, depends on Jon.

Jon had never really seen me angry. With the exception of the last year, he had never given me a reason to be really angry. I spend most of the day wondering why I had not stood up to him from the start. That first morning he had yelled at me for waking him up, I should have gotten right in his face and screamed back. I think of the story of Ferdinand The Bull. I am a Taurus, born the end of April. I had always related to Ferdinand because it did take a lot to make me angry. Jon will get his first taste tonight.

I watch the clock more than normal, I used to lament going home but, now I cannot wait. In my mind I think of everything I have not said over the past year. When it’s time to go, I practically fly to my car. Crossing the river, I ask my parents to give me strength. I focus all of my attention on just how angry I am, not wanting to lose any momentum. After parking I race up the stairs. They’re slick as usual so after almost tumbling down them. I take a moment to relax and continue up them with more care.

After turning the lock, I fling open the door, making Jon jump as he sits in his armchair.

"What the hell?" he sputters.

"Yes! What the hell!"

Jon looks at me like I have grown two heads and doesn’t say anything.

I slam the door shut and drop my things next to it. I'm pleased that he's still sitting, and I'm standing. It makes me feel bigger than him. I also feel like I need to move around.

"What happened to the sixty dollars that was in my wallet, Jon?"

"That's what all of this is about?"

"Oh, I haven’t even started. Do you admit it? Did you take money out of my wallet?"

Jon doesn’t say anything, but his whole body is tense, and his fingers are flexing open and shut on the arms of the chair.

"Since you have nothing to say, I can only assume that, yes, you did take it."

Jon stands up now. "So you're throwing it in my face that you have money, and I don’t?

Is that what this is?"

I was not having it. "Don’t even go there. This is about you taking money without asking.

That's a big difference, because face it, we have bills to pay that I have to budget for."

"So I'm like a child getting an allowance. You want to control me."

"You have got to be freaking kidding me. I'm asking for two adults to have a conversation."

"Whatever." Jon makes to go pick up the car keys, but I grab them first and hold them behind my back. "Not going