The Space In Between

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I WAS HAVING a nightmare. I was smiling, I was dancing, and I was lying next to Derrick. We were laughing at the neighbors, drinking in the bars, and living happily ever after. I snuggled my head into the curve of his neck and we fit so perfectly together. Yet when I looked up, Derrick was gone. I was standing alone, lost, and confused, crying out. Derrick! Why would he leave me? My breaths were short and my screams were loud, but no one could hear me. I raced through the house, searching for an explanation, searching for clues of his escape, searching for him. But he was gone. And I was left crying.
How could he leave me? We were so happy. We had everything. We had each other. Wasn’t I enough? How could he walk away and not look back? I continued searching the house— thinking I’d missed a spot. I had to have missed something, right? The tears kept falling, and I kept searching and praying for him to be there next to me. So I traveled to the front door and opened it to reveal the darkest truth.
Another man. He was handsome, charismatic, and mine for the taking. He looked at me and didn’t just see me, but he knew me. He knew the curves of my body—he knew the whispers of my heart. And he was waiting. Waiting for me to step out of the house. Waiting for me to walk down the pebbled sidewalk with him. He didn’t pressure me. He simply leaned against the porch railing and smiled.
He was handsome, charismatic, and mine for the taking.
And I closed the door in his face. I couldn’t leave the house. It was my safe haven. It was my place to find peace. But somehow—before my eyes—it had become a prison. The walls were the chains holding me down, and the memories were the nourishment I was so desperate to have.
`And I woke up. I could tell by the swelling of my eyes that I’d not only been crying in my dreams, but also as I lay asleep in the bed. I glanced in the mirror at myself and studied my face. Patting my fingers lightly under the puffy, red eyes, I began to wipe away the lone tear that was left as evidence to my semi-sleepless night.
Nightmares were the worst.
“Anders, are you all right?” At the sound of the word Anders, I knew it was my mother. What was she doing here so early? Why could I not catch a freaking break? I breathed in the dry air of the room and turned to the bedroom doorway.
“I’m fine, Mom. What are you doing here so early?” I watched as her eyes widened with even more worry, and I shifted myself to the alarm clock on the nightstand. 1:04 pm. Crap. It wasn’t early.
“I made an appointment with Ms. Sally for your hair, it’s in thirty minutes. I’ve been calling you all morning but there was no answer.” I remained in my seat at the desk and watched through the mirror as my mom started straightening up the room around me. The suffocating feeling always seemed to arise whenever my mom came around; I didn’t know how much more I could take. But I remained silent and went digging through my luggage to find something to wear.
I heard sniffles from behind me—oh no. Mom was crying. Again. She looked at me and pulled me into a hug. The type of hug I needed from my mom—not too overbearing, but not nonexistent. She must have taken notes from Daddy.
“I’m sorry Anders. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. For any of us.”
I agreed. “I’m sorry I missed Thanksgiving, Mom.”
She pulled away from me and nudged my arm. “I saved you a plate in the freezer. After the dance tonight, you should stop by and eat.”
She loved me. She was crazy, a worry-wart, and extremely dramatic, but she was my mom. And I was so happy to have her there with me.
“Now. Let’s go do something about this hideous hair of yours.”





MS. SALLY STOOD BEHIND me, clipping away at my hair after it had been washed. The amount of hair falling to the ground was somewhat worrisome. I was almost positive I was going to be bald by the time she was done. But I didn’t say anything. Questioning Ms. Sally’s tactics was like questioning God. You just didn’t do it.
Chop chop chop. Gossip gossip gossip. Within that hour, I found out that Rachel had officially moved back into town, Derrick’s mom was on anti-depressants, Fred’s Bakery made a new strawberry jam and…
“Wait. What!?” I looked up to Ms. Sally, who stood with an ‘oh crap’ look pasted on her face. Her eyes shifted towards my mom, who was holding a magazine. She, too, had the ‘oh crap’ look plastered across her face.
“Oh…I thought. I mean, I assumed you knew, honey.” Ms. Sally slapped her chubby arm against her waist. “My gosh Betty, you could have told me Andrea didn’t know! I hate spreading gossip.”
“Is it true?” How could my mom keep this from me? How could she NOT tell me this big detail?
“Well...yes. It happened over Thanksgiving. We were hoping you would come but, well, what did you want Eric to do? Wait until you called? Because you never did.” She huffed and puffed, making up excuses of why it had ‘slipped’ her mind to inform me that my brother and Michelle were now officially engaged.
I returned to my seat. I couldn’t talk. I didn’t want to talk. They were getting married. They were about to begin the journey of their happily ever after. And I was jealous, bitter, and saddened by the idea. What kind of monster had I become?
The outcome of the change in my hair was beautiful. Ms. Sally did a fantastic job. I was now sporting a pixie cut, platinum blond hairdo which was much more me. It felt good to get back to the blondness, yet my blue eyes still stared back at me in the mirror like they didn’t know who I was looking at.
“That’s much better.” My mom smiled at me through the mirror and squeezed my shoulders. The look of joy beaming from her was proof that she was satisfied with my new look. “Now, time to get you to your dance rehearsal.”
Ugh. I shook my head, stood up, tossed on my coat and gloves, and informed her that I would walk. It wasn’t that far, and the fresh air would be nice to knock the grumpy out of my system.





MY HEART SKIPPED a beat as I stood outside the dance studio and saw everyone laughing inside. There were quite a few people in the room, but my eyes landed on the most important people. I saw Eric’s best friend, Bobby, talking with him and Michelle. I saw Ladasha smiling, chatting it up with Steve—Derrick’s best friend. And I saw Cooper in a corner with Rachel, who was laughing hysterically. Surely nothing could have been that funny. Jealousy filled me up while watching Cooper lean in towards Rachel and her beautiful grin. I had no right to be jealous; he was a free man to do whatever the hell he wanted to do, and we were just friends.
It was clear Cooper was the man in my dream, waiting for me to step outside—or in this case, inside—with him and move on. What was I waiting for? And how long could I expect a guy to wait for me? His head rose towards the window and I stumbled back. His dimples appeared as he locked eyes with me. I didn’t look away, but I didn’t move closer. Cooper held up a finger to Rachel, excusing himself and it was less than five seconds before he was standing outside in the chilled winter’s air next to me.
“Hey, you,” he said as I watched his breath hit the cold air. He rubbed his hands together and wrapped his arms around himself. “You look amazing.”
I gave him a half-smile and rubbed my mittens over my new hairdo. “Thank you.”
“What are you doing? It’s freakin’ cold out here. Come on in. They were about to get started.”
My foot shifted on the snow resting against the sidewalk. I pointed towards Ladasha. “That guy with Dasha? That’s Derrick’s best friend.”
“Ahh, I see.” He walked over next to me and stared into the dance room. He was wearing a short-sleeved black t-shirt and jeans, and I could see the hairs standing up on his arms. He was freezing. But he wouldn’t show it because he didn’t want to leave my side. “So here’s what I have learned about Pride and Prejudice dances. They move quickly. You change partners fast. And you hardly have enough time to chat with anyone. So I doubt Steve will even have enough time to notice you. But it’s completely up to you what you want to do. In or out?” he asked. No pressure, just a question.
I let out a breath.
In.
As I opened the door, the room filled with laughter came to a screeching halt. It wasn’t long until the heartrending, poignant glances towards me arrived. They saw me as a sad, abandoned puppy. The air was filled with an overwhelming amount of whispering. At least in my mind that is what I heard. They were questioning how I looked, how skinny I was, how alone and depressed I must have been. They were judging me. They didn’t say it, and I doubt they meant to, but I could feel it.
I took off my coat and tossed it on a chair in a corner. Cooper was wrong—the dancing didn’t start soon enough. As I turned from dropping off my coat, I stood before Steve. Not only was he Derrick’s best friend, but he was a best friend of mine too. I hadn’t spoken to him since the accident, and I’m not sure if I’d even glanced his way at the funeral, yet there we were. Face to face.
Don’t cry.
I opened my mouth to speak but choked on the air. What did you say to your dead fiancé’s best friend? He gave me his gracious smile and ran his hands through his sandy brown hair. I smirked back towards him and tilted my head. He lowered his eyebrows and held a hand out to me. “Wanna dance?”
I grabbed his hand and moved to the dance floor. The lightness of the room returned as everyone realized I wasn’t dead. I was just going through the motions of dealing with death. The laughter came back, which was so much more pleasant than the utter silence. Before I knew it, the dance lessons had began and everything wasn’t as bad as my mind was making it up to be.
So what did you say to your dead fiancé’s best friend?
Absolutely Nothing.
You just looked at each other and came to the realization that words couldn’t bring much comfort, but the touch from an old friend could.
As the night continued, I grew comfortable. These people were still my friends, and it felt good to be around them. During a break, I slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Rachel walked up to me and handed me a water bottle. Cooper was standing across the room, laughing with Eric and Steve. I thanked her for the water and she sat down next to me. Her eyes wandered over to Cooper. “He’s pretty sexy, eh? Do you know if he’s single? I heard rumors about him and his wife, but that’s all I know…”
I rolled my eyes. Rachel thought everyone was sexy. I wanted to tell her he was off limits, but I couldn’t.
Her head lowered and she took a long gulp from her water. “I never got to talk to you at the funeral and…” She grew serious. Much more serious than I was interested in her being. I glanced around the room for an escape, but everyone else was enwrapped in mindless conversations. Crap. She continued, “I mean, I know we were never really close but I wanted to say, I mean. I just wanted to…” She started to stutter. It was as if she were searching for the right words.
“What is it, Rachel?” Something was bothering her—no,—something was eating away at her mind.
“I just. I mean. You’re a good person.” She became teary-eyed. I remained silent. “And what happened to Derrick...”
“What are you two ladies chatting about?” Steve appeared seemingly out of nowhere and joined us on the floor.
Rachel’s eyes locked with his. “Andrea and I were having a talk.” She narrowed her eyes towards him and gave him the ‘get the hell out of here’ look. He returned a stern look and I was confused out of my mind.
“What’s going on?”
Their look broke and they both smiled at me. Before Rachel could speak, Steve opened his mouth. “Nothing. Rachel, that Cooper guy over there was asking about you. Maybe you should go say hi.”
That perked her right up. And pissed me right off. She excused herself to go chat with him and my eyes followed her the whole way.
“What’s her deal? She was acting all weird,” I asked Steve. Steve smiled and stood up.
“You know Rachel.” He tapped the side of his head. “She’s not all there at times.”
I chuckled, took the hand he extended to me, and stood up, ready to continue dance rehearsal.