I first met Elizabeth when she was 23, at an entrepreneurs group of all places. It was silly of me to even be there. In my thirties, it was obvious to me already that I was not cut out to take on the risks of business ownership. Lizzy, however, was so bright and energetic! She was already a co-owner of a break out marketing firm! She livened the crowd of stodgy old Suits with frank ideas and effervescence. Her glossy dark hair, deep brown eyes and too tight tee shirt didn't hurt either, I was kind of embarrassed to admit to myself.
Not that Lizzie was just a pretty face! She was young, but one could quickly perceive an old soul in her. She had a classic education and spoke with poise and diction. She could and would call a spade a spade! Her pure enthusiasm for business was infectious however, and she quickly gathered a captive audience when she spoke during the weekly meetings.
I tried. I really tried to stay away from her. She was too young, and too attractive. She could only be trouble! It turned out that she was also too perceptive! She began to slide up to me during breaks and after the meetings, to chat about this and that. She drew me out of my reluctance, and soon we were laughing together often! She would glance at me from across the table with a twinkle in her eye. With just a look we would share secret humor during presentations. It became difficult not to laugh out loud when she gave her crooked smirk!
As I said, we all knew her to be so happy and full of life. None of us were prepared for the day that she stood up to speak to us about failure. With the passion that had quickly become her trademark she described her failed marriage. Looking around the room I could see that everyone shared my sadness for what Elizabeth was now going through. How could seem so upbeat while her home life was falling apart? The rest of the meeting was a blur as I processed Lizzy's news.
The meeting ended, and I was still lost in thought as I put on my jacket. Lizzy popped up at my elbow, with her characteristic "So, um, yeah," followed by "You have a truck right?"
As I said, I never really fit into the group. They were powerful bankers and investors, business owners and suits. And then there was me. I lived out in the country and was more likely split a log than split a trust fund. Of course I had a truck! I nodded, yes down to little Elizabeth.
"I need some help moving," she told me, looking up at me with her dark eyes, "But only with the big stuff! My weight bench and my bed, the rest I can move by myself!" she quickly amended.
"He'd gladly help you move your bed young lady!" a slightly tipsy investment adviser clapped me hard on the shoulder as he ambled towards the door.
His weak humor broke the dark mood and Lizzy leaned against me as we laughed! I tried not to inhale the fresh scent of her hair as I chuckled, "Of course I will help! When and where?"
---
It was a brisk spring Saturday morning when I pulled up to the small apartment building at the address Lizzy had given me. I stamped my feet on the cold ground as I got out of my truck.
Lizzy called "Hey! Over here!" from a low balcony on the front of the building, "Hang on, I'll buzz you in!"
I'm not sure what possessed me, but I called up "No need!" gave a jump and caught the top rail of her balcony with one hand. I swung my other hand up, hooked my heel on the edge and pulled myself up, then over the rail. I landed neatly on the small balcony and gave a silly flourish as she laughed and applauded.
"Good! You are going to need those muscles today!" she chuckled, reaching up to squeeze my arm.
"Anything you need, Lady!" I said in my best deep voice, puffing up slightly.
"Oh really?" her eyebrow arched at me suggestively. We fell to laughing all over again! "Let me go grab my keys and we can head over and grab my stuff."
I picked my way over piled boxes to her door. Liz was hoping on one foot trying to lever a running shoe over her heel. She stumbled as her foot came down on the corner of a bag. If I hadn't been guiltily looking at the way her sweat pants were stretched tightly across her small bum I never would have been quick enough to catch and steady her!
"That's not what I meant when I said 'grab my stuff!'" Liz squealed as I steadied her, holding on perhaps a touch too long. Ruefully I chuckled and let go. Lizzy stamped her foot into her shoe as she laughed at me. "Let's go!"
She climbed into my truck and gave directions as I drove to the home that she had shared with her soon to be ex-husband. Lizzy bit her full lower lip as we pulled up to the condo complex.
"He is here! He's not supposed to be here!" she looked a little desperate, "I hope this won't be weird for you!"
"No problem," I reassured her, "As far as he needs to know, I am some guy-with-truck that you hired. As long as he is polite to you, we won't have any issues." I had helped with divorce moves for a few of my pals, and knew that it could get emotional.
When we went inside the house was kind of a disaster. In addition to the chaos of separating five years of life together, it did not appear that her Ex was keeping up with any sort of house cleaning. Empties were piled all over the living room. He sat on the couch looking disheveled. His red rimmed eyes stared balefully at us.
"I'll start taking apart the bed?" I murmured as she led me to the master bedroom. She thanked me and moved back towards the living room. I caught her arm and looked into her eye, "I am right here if you need me Elizabeth." She seemed to look right into me then. Her eyes showed her old soul, boring right into mine.
"You promise?" it seemed to say. I promise. Time slowed down.
The moment ended with a nod of her head and a flourish of dark curls as she turned back to the living room.
I turned to the bedroom, wondering what had just happened. I surveyed the mess of what had once been a lovely bedroom suite. The bed was tall with ornate pipe work head and foot boards. Bright white linens were bunched and twisted amongst a unfeasibly lush quilt. A quick wash and these would be good as new, I was sure as I carefully untangled them and bundled them up. I reached across the queen sized mattress and heaved it off the box spring, listening intently for any sounds of confrontation from the front room.
I had stacked the box spring and mattress in the hall and was just finishing disassembling the frame when Liz came back up the hall.
"Everything copacetic?" I asked, remembering her appreciation for unusual words. She flashed a smile briefly.
"Meh, he's a rag doll. He's not doing anything. Just like always. Let's get this stuff onto the truck and get out of here!"
Quickly we loaded up the bed, her weight bench, and book shelves. Since there was still room I insisted that we grab as many of the boxes as we could wedge in and around the big stuff. As we were leaving Liz threw over her shoulder, "I'll be back for the rest next week,"
