Your assignment this week was to write a post about an embarrassing moment. So, here we go:
The yellow line of light from under the door was the only thing to fixate on, and the voices and laughter from the kitchen intensified with each blink of an eye and every thumping beat of my heart.
I tried not saying anything… I tried not moving or breathing… I tried not freaking out. I was a girl, but I was a rough and tough tomboy girl. And I was pushed into the pantry with Randy so that we could be together… so that we could become a couple.
Randy was 11 and I was 10.
Our parents thought it would be funny, apparently. Actually it was his parents and my mom... or who used to be my mom. I mean, she still looked like my mom and talked like my mom, but she was definitely not the mom I knew my entire life up till the year prior when she locked my dad out of the house.
I could hear Randy’s dad say something to taunt his son and then everyone would burst into laughter.
Of course there was clanking of beer bottles involved. And smoke from the cigarettes. Dear god, the smoke that invaded my youth.
It wasn’t the first time Randy and I had met, but it was the first time we were stuck together in a small space. My brother and Randy were best friends. I always wanted to play with my brother so I followed him everywhere thereby following Randy as well. We played soccer together when they allowed me to play with them, but for the most part, I always sat on the sidelines watching them play because what boys wanted a little girl, tomboy or not, playing with them? Especially when that girl happens to be a little sister to one of them.
But now that my mom and his parents were, apparently, best friends, we were seeing a lot more of each other. And my mom, revisiting her teen years or something, didn’t like having a little girl sitting by her side. So they pushed me in the pantry when Randy was in there looking for something to eat.
“You can come out after you kiss her,” Randy’s dad shouted at one point.
More laughter, more clanking of beer bottles.
Suddenly the light from under the doorway melted away. Randy turned on a light inside the pantry.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said.
I didn’t say anything. I just turned back to look at the door and prayed that it would open.
We didn’t really say much more after that and we certainly didn’t kiss. I’m not sure how long we were in there exactly- could’ve been 10 seconds, could’ve been an hour for all I know. All I do know is that I was mortified. I felt so … nonexistent. Like my feelings just didn’t matter.
Editor's notes: My mom has had quite a few transformations in my life. Today she is a wonderful, doting grandmother and it really makes me happy to see her with my Lovie. Basically, she's a much better grandparent than she was a parent. I love her. She's my mom. If she didn't exist, I wouldn't exist to have my Lovie. But the mother she was is nothing like the mother I am and will continue to be. I'm just glad she grew up enough in time to grandparent Lovie.
As for Randy... I haven't seen him since my brother got remarried over four years ago. He was my brother's best man. They no longer talk because my brother's an asshole. I do know Randy is on his second marriage, has several kids, and recently added a grandbaby to the mix. I liked Randy when we were kids. A lot. He reminded me of Ricky Schroder in Silver Spoons. We never did kiss but we did go see movies and play video games together- alone- a lot. I wonder if he remembers the time they locked us in the pantry together...