I emptied the washer and threw my clothes in the dryer. Thankfully, Mom doesn't mind Zac and I using the laundry room. As long as we come home for purposes other than laundry every once in a while, she doesn't care.
Aimlessly, I made my way to the living room and started to channel surf. I stopped at ABC, a familiar sound catching my attention.
"Oh, look! It's Luke and Laura's 25th wedding anniversary!" said my mother, getting all excited. Mom's favorite soap opera is "General Hospital."
"Every once in a while I'd see her smile, and she'd turn my day around. A girl with those eyes could stare through the lies, and see what your heart was saying," I softly sang with the TV.
I didn't realize you knew this song, Tay," Mom said, sounding quite suprised. "When did you learn it?"
"College. Freshman year." I paused. "Laura taught it to me. It was her favorite," I quietly added. I didn't think of Laura too often anymore. But every now and then, something would just bring her to mind.
"General Hospital" was Laura's favorite soap opera as well. In fact, her mother had named her after Genie Francis's character, Laura. Rightly so, too. Laura had the same blonde hair, hazel eyes, glowing smile, and angelic aura as the TV persona.
I watched the rest of the show, thinking of Laura the whole time. When it was over, I collected my laundry and the left-over baked ziti Mom saved for Zac and I, and left.
Zac and I were out of milk and just about every other grocery imaginable, so I stopped at the supermarket on the way back to the apartment. As I made my way down the bread aisle, I stopped dead in my tracks. At the end of the aisle was Laura, and she hadn't changed one bit. She pushed the cart towards the cash register, and I followed her. She paid for her groceries and headed out to the parking lot. I quickly paid for the milk and bread and followed her.
"Laura! Laura!" I yelled, running towards her as she loaded the car with the brown bags. She ignored me. "LAURA!" I grabbed her shoulders and spun her around so she was facing me.
"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"
"Laura, you know damn well who I am!" 'Do I know you?' Who did she think she was fooling?
"Oh my God! Taylor? Is that you? Is that really you? Wow, you cut your hair! It's SO short!"
I was losing my patience. "Cut the crap, Laura! You've got A LOT of explaining to do."
"I know," she replied softly. She looked at her watch. "I'm sorry, Tay. I'm running late. I gotta go."
I clentched my fists, trying to maintain self-control. "Well, please, don't let me keep you. I've waited five years for an explaination. I suppose I can wait another five. What the hell, right?" My voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Taylor, I'm sorry. I'm really, REALLY sorry." As I saw the tears well up in her eyes, some of my anger faded. Even though she hurt me deeply, I didn't want to hurt her.
"Look, Taylor, I really gotta go. Meet me tonight at nine."
"Meet you where?" I asked skeptically.
"You know where." And with that, she got into her car and drove off.