Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt
Joe wished he’d followed his mother’s advice. He’d never known her to be wrong about people, and she wasn’t wrong this time, either. She’d warned him. More than once, but he’d been too stubborn to listen. Besides, Sherry was such a knockout!
She had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever having known anyone before whose eyes were truly green, but Sherry’s were. They made him think of Ireland on a clear day when the sun bathed the grassy hillsides in light. That’s the kind of green he saw in her eyes. He dreamed of spending the rest of his life enjoying those eyes.
Her hair was a glory. It was burnished copper, glowing even when there was no light.It fell across her forehead and down her shoulders and back in waves and ringlets. A man could get lost in hair like that.
Her skin was pale, but touched with a kiss of gold and rose. She didn’t need makeup. It would have been a crime to conceal that natural beauty under powder and paint. There was a dimple on the left side of her mouth, making it nearly impossible for any normal man not to gaze there, at the richness of her lips, waiting for that dimple to wink off and on.
Such beauty, such perfection, simply had to be the same on the interior. A woman whose every feature was like a fairy tale couldn’t be anything but sweet, kind, and loving.
Well, he’d learned the truth finally. Sherry had opened her mouth to criticize him for taking her to a “shabby little cafe” instead of the swanky restaurant she’d been expecting. Her whole face changed. Those light-filled green eyes turned hard and dull. Her skin flushed in splotches of angry red, and her mouth sneered in disdain. Her voice was like broken glass, and the words that poured out of her mouth were some of the ugliest he’d ever heard.
He was like a man recovering consciousness after a solid blow to the head. He saw and heard the truth, and he had a hard time connecting it with what he had believed. It was like a poorly cut piece of a jigsaw puzzle. He just couldn’t make it fit.
Finished with her tirade, Sherry stood. She picked up her small purse, turned with a flip of her glorious hair, and stalked out of the cafe as if it held a bad smell. Joe sat staring at the door she had just used, feeling stupid and completely betrayed. How could so much beauty cover up such a shallow woman!
The waitress came to him with the menus, lifting one eyebrow as she assessed the situation.
“So, Joe, she’s not quite what she seemed, is she? You should have listened to your mother. I’m sorry you’re hurting, but Sherry wasn’t for you. Believe me, she’s only for herself. Always has been. Well. Are you having anything to eat, Joe? Or would you just like some coffee for now?”
“Uh–yes, okay, coffee. Thanks.” As the waitress turned to go, Joe called out, “Wait. Wait a minute. Does everyone else know what she really is? Am I the only poor chump who hadn’t figured her out?”
“Joe. You men are all alike. She’s been through a list of men a mile long. Maybe someday she’ll meet some guy who can wine and dine her the way she thinks she deserves. No, not everyone has her number, but unless she moves a long way away from here, it won’t take long before everyone does. I’ll go get your coffee. And maybe a sandwich? You shouldn’t spend another moment grieving over her. You need to eat.”
So Joe ate. And took another look at the waitress he’d known all his life. Took a slow, careful, long look at her.