Entry #131

What’s Wrong with Suzy
by Dean Clayton Edwards


Suzy was convinced there must be something wrong with her because she hadn’t ever had a boyfriend. She admitted to being old-fashioned, because she was raised by her grandmother.

I slid my hand over hers and for once she resisted the urge to pull away.

New Year was a time for new experiences; a time for change.

*

It was five to midnight.

I went to the kitchen to get more wine. When I went back to the bedroom Suzy was perched on the edge of the bed in a simple nightdress, looking up at me with a tremulous smile. She was beautiful.

Crouching behind her was a dwarfish, old woman in a dark-blue smock. Her hair was cropped and coal-black in contrast to her thin, blue lips. She was gazing at the back of Suzy’s head with a sad little smile. She then turned to me, her features stiffening.

The bottle of wine hit the ground.

Then the wine glasses, one of which shattered; the other only cracked.

The old woman spat at me. “You’re not to touch her!” She returned her heavy, black gaze to Suzy and made as if to reach for her. “She’s my little girl.”

*

We were one minute short of a year when Suzy ran away from my flat. She told me that she knew I would reject her. She said that if her grandmother had been alive this would never have happened.

“I know, Suzy,” I said. “I know.”