Ambassador

Violet had woken up once in the middle of the night to the sound of the thunder. Outside it was raining and gray. It still felt like early morning but it was nearly noon. Violet drank her tea and tried to keep calm. She stared out the window at the rain and smelled the rain and waited.
“Have you heard anything about his flight?”
“I just checked and it left Chicago on time.”
“Tell me how safe airplanes are, Yelly, just one more time.”
“There's a higher chance of dying in a car crash than on an airplane.”
“No matter how long the flight is?”
“No matter how long the flight is.”
“So he'll be okay?”
“Don't worry.”
“I wonder if he's worried.”
“I'm sure he's not worried. You shouldn't worry either.”
“He'll be okay.”
“Yes.” Yelly took another bite of her toast. It was dry. Violet had dropped the butter on the kitchen floor. After Yelly had cleaned it up, she hadn't been in the mood for jam.
“But it's raining. What if the runway is too slippery for a landing?”
“The weather could be different at the airport. Do you want me to check?”
“Please check.” Her tea was getting cold. Yelly took her toast with her to the other room. She checked the weather at the airport. It was raining there, too.
“Don't worry about it,” Yelly said. She walked about into the kitchen and said,
“Don't worry about it.”
“Is it raining there, too?”
“No.”
“What if the rain moves?”
“It's heading East.”
“So it won't go to the airport?”
“Don't worry, Vi.” Yelly threw the rest of her toast in the sink. Violet took another sip of her tea and didn't notice it was cold.
“It's raining pretty heavily.”
“But it's not storming.”
“Did you know lightning can be just in the clouds, though? Cloud to cloud.”
“Yes.”
“So even if we don't see any lightning, it could hit the plane.”
“It won't hit the plane. Please just shut up about it.”
“I'm just worried.”
“Well stop worrying and go read or something.”
“I just wish I could sleep until he got here. And then wake up, and he'd be here.”
“Then take a sleeping pill.”
“Then I wouldn't be able to wake up.”
“Jesus, Vi, stop talking about it. If anything, your negative energy is gonna bring that plane down, so you gotta stop worrying about it.”
Violet was quiet. She emptied her cup and then put it in the sink. She went to the window and looked up at the sky. It was gray. White fog was creeping over the tops of the mountains. It could be an ambassador for anything.
“Why don't you go watch tv or something?”
“I'm too worried.”
“Just go watch tv.”
Violet went into the living room and sat down on the couch. She didn't turn the tv on. She started at the blank screen.
“Turn it on, Violet.”
She reached for the remote and held it in her hand. Her hand rested on her thigh. Her fingers felt too shaky to press a certain button. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else.
“Turn it on.”
She pressed the power button. Yelly came to stand in the doorway. Commercials.
“What's on at eleven?”
“Talk shows I think.”
“When does the news come on?”
“I don't know.”
“He'll be here before the evening news.”
“Why do you want to watch the news?”
“I just do.”
“I told you, if you keep worrying about it--”
“Shhh, the commercials are over.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“It might not be his plane.”
“You said that planes were safe, Yelly! You told me they were safe!”
“It's not his plane! It can't be his plane. Shut up so we can listen.”
“Look at the smoke. It's so white. Oh God, oh God.”

Jesse Webster

The lake shimmered behind the man who had come to be my bliss and my torture. He spoke with power he'd never had and promised me prizes that didn't exist.
"Kiss me," he whispered, "and I'll show you the stars." I saw in his eyes his mad belief and felt my heart's deepest wound re-open.
"Love me, and I will give them to you." He told me that, piece by piece, I would come to own the universe, if only I'd give him my heart in return. I cried. He didn't know the joke he was speaking. My mind, my body, and my soul had been Jesse Webster's since we were barely sixteen.
"Why won't you love me?" he screamed. I told him with my eyes that I did. He didn't understand my words. I hoped he'd understand my soul.
"All I ever wanted was to be your slave, Marguerite, and you deny me that pittance?"
"My name is Sylvie," I said.
"Where are our daughters?" he asked.
"We never raised any children," I responded.
"You stole them and hid them on the stars, didn't you?" He laughed and called me a genius.
I reached for his hand. He gave it to me and watched with his crystal gray eyes as I pressed his palm to my lips. I kissed it twice, then pulled him in to me and kissed his lips. I waited for a hint of recognition.
"Did you see the stars?" he asked. I kissed him again and felt his lips move against mine, reacting even if he didn't know me for me.
"I love you," I said. He let go of my hand, then, to grasp my cheeks between his hands. He'd always been rough, but his touch hurt. He kissed my nose.
"Let's go home, Jesse," I pleaded. He turned and looked out at the lake with a longing I could identify. He wanted to understand it. But it was getting cold and dark. I took him home.