It takes me hours to decide what to wear for our first date. I’m excited and nervous. I don’t really know why. I mean- I’m married to this guy. Perhaps it’s the sheer fact that we’re going somewhere (more than to the market or to run for takeout) with this man. Just the two of us; I don’t know. I can’t explain the gnawing feeling of uneasiness in my stomach. I wonder if I felt this way on our actual first date and I’d give anything just to know.
We get to the Aquarium just as the sun is setting and though I relish being out in the world of daylight I can tell that Doyle is less than comfortable. He wears dark glasses that wrap around his face and he is wearing a long sleeved shirt. It’s chilly so no one notices as we crawl out of car. There are not a lot of cars in the small parking lot near the visitor’s center. I suppose it being almost closing time we have missed the crowds. He tells me he will get the tickets and asks if I would like to wander around outside while there is still light.
I smile at him and we hold hands as we walk toward the visitor center. He leaves me to go inside and I meander with the remaining crowds around the outside area. I marvel at the half road sculpture and watch kids playing around the wading pool.
We enter the aquarium and ride the escalator to the top followed closely by a group of children wearing blue and white tee shirts with the name of a neighborhood after school program. The children are boisterous and lively. I notice Doyle's expression and I know even without being told that the children are driving him crazy before we even make it out of the otter exhibit.
I watch them, enjoying their exuberance but Doyle seems perturbed and tries to rush ahead. I laugh and shame him. "Doyle, they're just excited!" I tell him that for some of these children this is their first outing like this. I don't know how I know that, and I don't ask him. I try to act like this isn't the first time I’ve ever been anywhere, but I give up and join my shorter counterparts with my face smashed up against the glass. The other adults give me strange looks out of the corners of their eyes when they thought I wasn't looking.
They all think I’m retarded.
Oh, who am I kidding? Maybe I am.
I drag him from exhibit to exhibit and he walks behind me with a semi-amused look on his face, as if he’s just tolerating the fish and the kids and the crazy wife and I feel a little ashamed of myself for making him go through this.
When we at last see the gift shop and it’s apparent that our adventure has at last come to an end, I hear an audible groan from the other children and I feel like doing the same. The children zip around the gift shop touching everything in sight. A few are lined up with their selections in hand and I notice a small little girl looking longingly at a stuffed otter. I know without asking that she doesn't have the money, and I can see the longing in her eyes.
My heart breaks. I don't remember it but I know that feeling...that longing...that wanting something so badly that you could taste it. Maybe we all have. Maybe that's one thing that we all share.
I suppose Doyle notices my expression. He hands me a twenty and rolls his eyes like he knows I’m going to ask or beg and he’s just making his life easier. I smile at him and then approach the girl.
"Did you drop this?" I ask her as I hold out the bill.
Her eyes grow wide and for a moment I can see that she considers telling me yes. But then a cloud covers her face and she shakes her head slowly.
"Are you sure. Because... you're the only one here."
"No'm. Granny says I ain't to take money from folks."
I wasn't expecting that answer. I try again.
"Okay. I’ll confess. It was me. I'm sorry. It’s just that that little guy there looks awful lonely and I can’t stand to leave him here. He needs a little girl to love."
"Why don't you just buy him?"
"Oh, he would only be lonely at my house. I don't have a little girl. So I was thinking... perhaps I could give you this money and you could take him home with you. You'd be doing me a favor really. Unless I find him a family I'm afraid I won’t sleep a wink tonight for worrying about him. You look like you would take real good care of him now, wouldn't you?"
A sly smile spreads across her face and at last we see eye to eye. She nods as she takes the bill in one hand and the plush otter in the other.
Doyle slips his hand around my waist and shakes his head at me. I can almost read his mind. I’m married to a big kid. We see her several minutes later boarding the bus with her new friend. She waves at us and makes the otter wave to us too.
I smile and feel warm and tingly inside. Doyle gives me that same strange smile as before. It is a smile that tells me he wouldn't have done the same thing but since it made me happy he will tolerate it.
It is getting dark and we walk to a burger joint with fifties style decor and order a couple cheeseburgers and fries. I get a strawberry milkshake and we enjoy being out of the house. Sort of like any other married couple. Except every other couple have a history together. Memories. Something I don't have and it eats at me and I try to push it to the back of my mind. This is a stranger. You're not married to him. Something about this isn't right.
Our cheese burgers arrive and I am sure this is the most amazing thing I have ever put in my mouth. Doyle's is almost raw and it gives me the willies. He is a vampire. The thought blind sides me again but I dare not tease Him about it.
Later we walk down by the river to the steps at Ross’ Landing and sit watch the lights from Walnut Bridge reflect off the water. It’s nice and a little chilly and I snuggle against him. It feels… almost natural…and against my better judgment, I kiss him. His reaction is instantaneous and overly aggressive for such a public place. He literally smothers me with his kisses and I gasp for breath and I before I know it he is pushing me down against the steps. He’s so intense that for a second I imagine that he plans to have his way right there and fear shoots through my body. I feebly attempt to fight back, but it only makes him more aggressive. Finally I manage to push him away and tell him to stop.
“Damn.” He curses. “What’s wrong?”
“Doyle! What’s wrong?” I gasp. “Stop. We can’t do this… here…there are people!”
“I don’t care.” He says huskily in my ear. “I need you now!”
“Well! You’re not going to get me now! Stop!” I spit out and he pushes away from me angrily.
“You never should have kissed me.” He growled. I cannot see his face in the darkness but I can feel the anger emanating from him.
I try to placate him, unsure what to do about his outburst. The other couples on the steps do not seem to notice our spat and I am thankful.
“You don’t think I’m the kind of girl that will sleep with a man on her first date do you?” I ask playfully, hoping that will abate his anger.
Instead he turns to me; I can see half his face illuminated by the light.
“Of course you are.” He says icily and he moves over me much like a large animal would tower over its prey. He presses in and I lean back until I’m lying back on the steps and he puts his hands over mine and holds me there. “You slept with me the first time you ever saw me, you little slut. You’ve conveniently forgotten, but I remember. We were strangers. I asked you to coffee and you asked me to your room afterwards. You never mentioned you were engaged to be married at the time, so don’t play coy with me little girl!” He warns. “I know all about you, and there are a few things you should know about me…First off: You don’t ever… play with me… or lie to me… ever!” He makes the last sentence sound like a death threat.
I lay there dumbfounded at this new revelation but I couldn’t deny it. I know as soon as he says it that it is true. I had dreamed it while I was in the hospital, but at the time, I thought it was only a dream. I saw myself meeting the handsome man on the subway and slipping my engagement ring into my jeans pocket. I wanted to misbehave that night. I was in Paris, the city of love, an
d it was my last night before I would have to come back to my real life.
I opened my mouth and tried to defend myself. “I didn’t…I…” I tried to tell him, but Doyle finished for me. “You left me without as much as a goodbye! After I’d given myself to you- you left! I thought it was like they say: Love at first sight- I was bound to you and then… you were gone. It took me months to find you and when I did, you were about to walk down the aisle with another man!”
I gulp down air. I know it is true, even though I couldn’t remember it. He was livid but he spoke slowly. “You don’t invite me then tell me to stop. Understand?”
I trembled and tried to find my voice. “Yes…Yes. I understand. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“
He sits up then, releasing me from the iron hold he had upon me. I roll over to my side and then sit up, pulling my hair out of my face. I look around to see if anyone else noticed our little spat.
The other couples sit huddled together talking or under blankets. If anyone noticed our little tiff, they are not letting on.
That’s when the tears come. Unexpected and unwanted, I turn my face away and wipe my eyes.
He sits silently for several long minutes while I wonder what I had gotten myself into. What kind of man had I married? He had never acted this way since I’d awakened- had the devoted husband only been an act? I didn’t know what to do. Where could I go? I knew no one. I had no family. I didn’t even know anyone who had known me before when I was Andrea Bradley…
“Seek and you shall find. Have a nice night Mrs. Bradley…”
Except one.
He had given me a gospel tract with a church name on back. I could find him and perhaps get some answers!
“Let’s go home.” Doyle orders and I obey blindly. I’m too afraid to rock the boat any more.