Traffic lurched forward only to snarl again seconds later. Exhaust and the blats of car horns filled the air. Mandy tapped sweaty fingers on the steering wheel. She flicked the radio on and clicked it off, depressed the gas pedal and stomped the brake. Small stresses taunted her, but her therapist said distraction was key. She counted car windows in view.
“One, two, three…”
Mandy sighed, reached for her purse on the passenger seat. After a surreptitious glance for police, she fished out her phone and opened a chat window.
“Kill me. Stuck in traffic and I just want to get home.”
“… Aww, babe. Are you having a long day? Killing yourself won’t help, and it would make the day worse.”
Traffic inched forward. She smiled, balancing the phone between her lap and the wheel. Her thumb danced across the screen.
“Pamper me when I get home? I could use some ice cream.”
“... You should stop and get some. How about a movie? Something sexy to make you forget the day?”
“Brian, you’re the best. Traffic is moving. I’ll get some. Ttys luv you.”
She tossed the phone back to the empty seat. The cars moved from a crawl to a walk and finally to a smooth flow. She clicked the radio back on, head bobbing to the beat.
Thinking about Brian always made Mandy smile.
The store was out of cherry bonanza ice cream. She settled on chocolate with chunks of nougat. The teen, glass-eyed and barely cognizant of his surroundings, rang her through with the efficiency of a task often repeated. Mandy barely noticed his lack of attention. She was wondering what movie Brian would pick for her. He was good at picking just the thing to brighten her day, sometimes suggesting things she didn’t think she would like, but he was almost always right.
This had been her best relationship to date. Sure, there were things missing, but she knew perfection for a lie. Roger had been perfect until he wasn’t, and Joe? A nightmare. She had a list of guys, all waving red flags.
Ice cream in hand, Mandy plunked herself back into the car. The engine revved to life, and she paused, tapping into her phone again.
“Got the ice cream. Home in twenty. Can’t wait to cuddle in.
“... Drive safe, babe.”
The sun was sinking as Mandy buzzed down traffic-spotted lanes. Reds and purples highlighting wispy clouds. She practiced box breathing. Four in, hold, and exhale four. Repeat.
Dr. Morris claimed box breathing calmed the flight or fight response. The brain responds to the body, as well as the body to the brain. She would have to ask Brian what he thought, he knew so much and always had great advice. Her lips quirked, the body and the brain respond to Brian. She chuckled at her own joke. Turned the radio up.
Maybe she could quit the therapist now. He was judgey with his little recorder and blank fish looks. After all, she felt better now. Her fingers pattered to the beat. Stress sloughed away and stayed behind in the streets.
Six months sober, since the breakdown. Six months since Jerry, and his bullshit excuses. She wondered if his bruises had healed fully, ripe plums on pale skin. Mandy shook her head, that was the old her, that anger was dead.
The elevator in her apartment reeked of something too sweet, diabetic urine and perfume bought on the cheap. She leaned against the railing watched the numbers climb. Floor 2, then walked to apartment 207. She jiggled the lock in the heavy metal door, pushed it open with a grunt and strode into darkness letting the door clunk shut behind her. The hum of appliances and the hush of emptiness embraced her. She left the ice cream sitting on the floor, fumbled out her phone, once again.
“Brian I’m home. What movie? I have so much to tell you.”
The ellipsis jumped, paused, jumped again. A minute went by. Deep lines broke her forehead. A message appeared.
… FRIEND GPT IS DOWN - PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER
Mandy frowned at the screen, blinked in time to the cursor. She thought of the whiskey in the cupboard and the half pack of smokes in the freezer. Thought of Jerry and the way he didn’t listen when she spoke. Breathe in, 1, 2, 3, 4, and out 1, 2… Fuck it she would grab a glass and a drink, maybe call her therapist later.
That ending reframes everything. Beautifully written.
Great end Krissy, I love it!