Author: Chelsi
Theme challenge: Not knowing oneself
Things to include: “Sometimes I feel nothing at all”, peanut butter, a fish named Sam
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: There’s a four letter word in there somewhere. Other than that, it’s pretty innocent.
Author’s Notes: None

Standing in front of a tall mirror in her bride’s maid dress, Macy Anderson chewed on her bottom lip as she smoothed down her hair with her hand. She took a good look at herself, from the frizzy poof of her hair to her sock-covered feet barely poking out beneath the dress. As she thought about all that the dress stood for, she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. It wasn’t because she wanted what her sister had, but because she didn’t. Not really, anyway.

In the reflection of the mirror, Macy saw her boyfriend approach her from behind with a sympathetic playfulness in his eyes. Taylor wrapped his arms around her from behind, flattening his hands over her stomach and resting his chin on her shoulder as they locked eyes through their reflections in the mirror. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to wear this until the actual wedding day,” he said softly into the shell of her ear.

“I know,” she sighed, tilting her head in dismay at her reflection. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. The happiest day of her sister’s life was coming up, and she was trying so hard to be happy for her, but there was always that heavy feeling in her stomach that made her want to cry at the drop of a dime. She felt terrible for not being as enthusiastic as her sister about her big day. “It just makes me feel so…”

“Pretty?” Taylor guessed, though from the look in her eyes and the tone of her voice, he knew that wasn’t the word she was looking for.

“No.”

“Hot,” he suggested next, a smile forming on his mouth. He knew that he was guessing in entirely the wrong direction - and he knew he was guessing things that she’d never say about herself, despite the fact that they were true descriptions.

“No.”

“Smashing?” His smile widened, and Macy couldn’t help but laugh.

“Randy, much?” Macy asked through a laugh in the best English accent she could get, though accents weren’t really her forte - if she had any fortes.

Taylor smirked deviously, despite the bad imitation of an Englishman. He lifted his head from her shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “Maaaaaaybe.”

Macy playfully rolled her eyes at Taylor, but then frowned at her own reflection in the mirror. “It makes me feel so…empty.” She ran her hand across the soft, silky material. She should have felt gorgeous, she knew. The dress should be able to make anyone feel gorgeous. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe it - to see herself in that light.

It was Taylor’s turn to frown at her reflection after her confession, and at the sour look she was giving herself. “Why do you feel empty?” He wanted to know.

“Have you ever,” she paused, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. She wasn’t sure about anything, and that’s what frightened her. She didn’t even know herself well enough to know what was wrong with her. “Have you ever known that you wanted something more, but not known what?”

His eyebrows creased as he looked at her, tightening his lips into a thin line of a sympathetic half-smile. Taylor wasn’t one to make up lines or pretend to be something he wasn’t. He was the kind of person who told it like it was and went for everything that he wanted. He had a drive in him that Macy couldn’t even begin to understand. “No, of course you haven’t,” she offered him a small, resigned laugh. “What good are you, Taylor?” She teased.

“Well, I’m pretty good -” He started with a suggestive response, but Macy quickly spun around and pinched his arm to keep the words - that would undoubtedly make her blush - from spilling over his lips.

“Ow!” He cried, rubbing the injured skin and pouting. “Mean,” he accused.

“You’ll get over it,” she said, losing her playfulness as she turned back around to face the mirror. She hated that she didn’t recognize the eyes staring back at her. They were empty, lifeless. She couldn’t recall anything from her life that had made such a deep impact on her life that it had changed who she was. Who was she, anyway? Just a girl with an eight-to-five job, who read books in coffee shops, and had a fish named Sam and a pretty good boyfriend who put up with all of her self-doubt and insecurities. There was nothing distinguishing about her. Nothing that said, “this girl is worth getting to know better.” She felt like a blank page - yet to be written, and no clue where to start.

Taylor wrapped his arms back around her, holding her tightly to him from behind. “I love you, you know,” he said, knowing that she probably wouldn’t say it back. He knew that it wasn’t that she didn’t want to. He understood that it was hard for her, but he continued telling her as often as he could anyway, in the hopes that she would eventually find a way to let it fall from her lips without hesitation or awkwardness. He hoped that one day she’d find comfort in those words.

“I know,” she said with a nod. He tightened his grip around her stomach and nuzzled his face, silently telling her not to beat herself up. “I just hate feeling like this.”

“Empty?” He asked, using the same word she’d used to describe her feelings only moments before.

She nodded. “Sometimes I feel nothing at all. I think it’s better than feeling like this.”

“Nothing is better than feeling apathetic,” he disagreed, his breath warm against her exposed neck.

“I don’t know, Taylor,” she sighed. “This pretty much sucks. I do the same thing day in and day out - and I don’t complain because it’s comfortable. It’s what I know. But sometimes I just want something more, you know? I just wish I knew what it was.”

“I know but…you know what you need?” Taylor asked only a second after his eyes lit up with an idea. He unwrapped his arms from around her quickly and stood looking at her with his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes narrowed in the way that they only did when he was thinking - the wheels were turning in his head.

“What do I need?” Macy mumbled, replacing her hands on her stomach in the absence of his, still watching him through the mirror.

“I know what you need,” he nodded, releasing his lip from the clamp of his teeth. When he spoke, he spoke pointedly, and with certainty. “Get out of this dress, while I go make a phone call.”

“A phone call?” She asked aloud. “Taylor!” She called after him as he’d already left the bedroom.

“Get out of the dress!” He called back, his voice waning as he moved farther away from her through the apartment.

Macy blew a tuft of air out the side of her mouth, pushing some of her heavy hair away from her face. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she shook her head and then took off her bride’s maid dress as she’d been instructed. She threw on some pajama pants and a t-shirt, and threw her hair up into a messy ponytail. She avoided the mirror as she changed, and even as she left the bedroom to meet up with Taylor. She found him in the living room, just hanging up the phone with a triumphant smile on his face.

“What’s going on?” She asked, as Taylor opened his arms out to her, and he waited for her to curl herself into them before responding.

“You don’t have plans for tomorrow, do you?” He asked, knowing full-well that she did. She always had plans on the weekdays.

“Tomorrow is Friday, Taylor,” she stated. “You know I have to work.”

“Call in sick,” he told her, as though it were the simplest solution in the world. She should be able to just up and take off from work whenever she wanted, according to Taylor. But she always felt guilty; she spent her days off wondering how busy they were at work, and feeling like she should be there, even if she was sick.

“I can’t do that! They know that Tracey’s wedding is on Saturday. They’ll know -”

“So tell them you need the day off to help your sister.” He rested his head atop of hers, as she had it resting on the front of his shoulder. His fingers dipped beneath the hem of her t-shirt at her side, but she pretended that she didn’t feel it. He was only doing it to get her to agree.

“I can’t, Taylor,” she let out a whine, knowing that he was going to get his way this time, no matter how hard she fought him on it. He typically did. Anything he wanted - he could get out of her. She was weak when it came to those pleading eyes and innocent, carefree tone.

“You have to. I already made plans.”

“Tell me what they are, first,” she demanded, knowing that it didn’t matter. The plans were already set in stone before she even agreed. He had her wrapped around his finger.

“Hey, you want some ice cream?” He asked, ignoring her demands. “I think Dairy Queen is still open.”

“Taylor!” She cried, but it was no use. He was already up and searching for his shoes, grabbing his car keys on his way.

- - - -

True to his word, Taylor made Macy call into work the next morning. She used the excuse that her sister needed some help with last minute details. To her surprise, her boss didn’t seem surprised or upset. She just bid her a farewell, and told her to have fun and to say hello to the charming boyfriend of hers. She found it strange - her boss’ attitude that morning, as well as her sudden interest in Taylor - but she shrugged it off as soon as Taylor popped into the front door. Macy hadn’t even noticed that he’d been outside.

“Car’s ready,” he announced, grabbing a couple of CDs from beside the computer. Confused, she watched as he grabbed a couple more random things from the living room - a couple of Tupperware bowls, a pack of gum, and his cell phone.

“The car?” Macy asked, watching him move about. “Where are we going?”

“I can’t tell you,” he smiled, stopping in the middle of the room and looking at her. He looked around momentarily, appearing to check off a mental list of things he was supposed to grab.

“Then I’m not going,” she said, growing more and more frustrated with the secrets. For once, she wanted Taylor to plan something with her and not surprise her. She was tired of surprises, and she was in no mood to deal with them on the eve of her sister’s wedding. She’d already called into work - the least he could do was tell her why. From the tone of her voice, he could tell that she meant business.

“I want you to meet someone,” he informed her, without giving too much away. It was someone that would do her good, he knew, but he didn’t want her to write off the idea before she even got there. She had a tendency to do that.

“Meet who?” She demanded to know. He looked at her, his blue eyes softening with sympathy.

“I really hope you can trust me on this one,” he said.

“Why should I?” She asked, already knowing she would, whether he told her or not.

“I promise you no more surprises for a long time, if you just go along with this.”

Macy sighed. As she slipped on some shoes, she wondered when, and how, Taylor had gotten such control over her. She used to be independent - didn’t need no man. But now? Now she succumbed to a man’s every plan. Every time he got an itch to do something crazy, he wanted her beside him. And for some reason, she always went along with it.

A couple of hours from her apartment, Macy found herself watching the tree line in the distance become closer and closer. The person they were going to visit apparently lived deep in the woods. It reminded her of some creepy horror movie, and especially with the condition of her mood. She had tried to lighten up throughout the short road trip - she knew that Taylor was only trying to help - but on top of nerves about the wedding, and everything she’d said and thought the previous day in front of the mirror, she was just not in the mood for surprises. Taylor seemed to understand this, but had only made one attempt to clarify things for her: they were going to visit his grandmother. It made no sense to her why Taylor had suddenly felt the urge to introduce the two.

“Over the woods and through the hills, to grandmother’s house we go,” Macy sang under her breath during a pause in the mixed CD that Taylor had apparently burnt the night before, specially for their trip.

Taylor laughed. “Over the hills and through the woods,” he corrected, but the next song came on, so Macy ignored him.

She felt like she should be dressed in red and carrying a picnic basket. The visual amused her slightly as she sat silently slouched down in the passenger seat of Taylor’s car, as he drove them farther and farther away from home. Away from her sister and all of the wedding plans. “Shit!” She cried, sitting up straighter. “I need to call Tracey.”

“No you don’t,” Taylor stopped humming along with the song and attended to her. He put his hand on Macy’s arm as she pulled her cell phone out of her purse.

“What do you mean, ‘no I don’t'? My sister is getting married tomorrow, and she’s not going to know where I am.”

“She knows. And as long as I have you back in time for the rehearsal dinner, she’ll let me keep my nuts.”

Macy fought back a smile, but it ended in laughter, which - in itself - brought a smile to Taylor’s face. That was definitely something her sister would say. So apparently Taylor had put more thought into this trip that she’d realized. She wondered if he’d slept at all the night before. “Wait a minute,” she said abruptly. “Did you call my boss too?”

Taylor smiled, sheepishly. Busted. “I had to make sure there was no way you could back out,” he explained, though he didn’t sound remorseful or apologetic.

- - - -

Grandma Hanson lived in a log cabin, surrounded by pine trees and shrubbery. There were birdhouses in many trees, sitting atop of posts, and a couple hanging from the covered porch. A hammock in the front yard was tied taught between two trees, leaning in opposite directions - as if physically pulling the hammock tight themselves. On the porch, in front of the door, lay a mat that said simply, “god bless.” Taylor knocked softly on the door and then entered before waiting for a response, and Macy followed hesitantly behind.

The smell of cinnamon immediately hit their senses, taking Macy by surprise. It had been so long since she’d been in a house that smelled so sweet. It smelled like home - though she’d never been there before. She felt a sudden sense of comfort wrap around her along with Taylor’s arm around her

Macy took a quick inventory of her surroundings. The house was dark, the curtains pulled shut. There was a rocking chair in one corner, and a sofa along the opposite wall. A record player beneath the window was playing a familiar Al Green tune. The entire room was lit by a single lamp in the far corner.

“Gramma?” Taylor called, heading toward a different part of the house.

“In the kitchen, dears,” a sweet voice with a tinge of twang called back to him.

Taylor quickly maneuvered them through the house that he’d probably been in a million times before. The house was nice, but lived in, Macy noted. It had a homey feel. It was broken in, without being broken down. As she took a quick glance at the pictures they were passing on the walls, she felt the sense of emptiness well up inside of her again. Maybe she did want what her sister had - what her sister would soon have.

Before she realized it, Macy was being embraced in the warmest hug she could ever remember receiving. “I’m so glad y’all are here,” Taylor’s grandmother said, in a voice that demonstrated the truth of the statement. As she was released from the hug, Macy took an opportunity to look around the kitchen for another quick inventory. “I just pulled a pie outta the oven, and put another one in. You like apple, right dear?” She didn’t hear Taylor respond as she expected to, and when she looked up she realized it was because Gramma, as Taylor had called her, was not addressing him; she was addressing her.

“Oh!” Macy said, surprised. “Yeah, I…yeah.” Bashful under familiar - and yet not - eyes, she stammered for the correct response.

“Good, good. I knew yah did.” Gramma went around the kitchen, doing this and that - putting things away, pulling things out. Macy was entranced with watching the woman until she felt a hand on her elbow. She looked up to find Taylor smiling at her, and nodding toward the kitchen table. She followed him and sat down in the chair next to his.

“How are you doing?” Taylor spoke up to his grandmother. He grabbed Macy’s hand when he saw her fidgeting nervously with the fringed edge of a cloth placemat.

“Oh, you know,” she started. “I’m good. Got a smidge of arthritis, but I ain’t lettin’ it get me down.”

“You should go see a doctor,” Taylor started in with his sympathetic, but parenting voice. But Gramma would not hear of it.

“I’m fine without goin’ to see a doctor,” she cut him off. “Your brother and sister came out here the other day and said the same thing,” she mused. “Alls I need’s to work it, an’ it gets better.” She put a large slice of pie in front of Macy, and then another one in front of Taylor. “Eat up.”

Macy stifled laughter as she watched her boyfriend practically salivate over his piece of pie. Macy looked at hers. It was dauntingly large. She didn’t want to be rude, though, so she dug right into it, eating as much of it as she could before sneaking the rest of it onto Taylor’s plate. He smiled at her graciously, finishing off both of their pieces as he talked to his grandmother about the family while she milled about the kitchen.

When she finally joined the young couple at the table, her eyes turned serious, and they turned to Macy. “Now tell Gramma what’s wrong,” she prodded without advanced warning. Macy’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as she looked toward Taylor, but he was paying attention to a small dog that was standing on his hind legs beside him. She looked back at the elderly woman questioningly. “Taylor told me you were in need of some good advice.”

“Oh well, I uh…”

“Don’t be bashful, darlin’,” Gramma said, covering one of Macy’s hands with her own. Her voice was warm and inviting, and at that moment, Macy felt like she could tell this woman - that she’d just barely met - her deepest, darkest secrets. Why the woman had that affect on her - she didn’t know, but she started with her story anyway.

“My sister is getting married tomorrow,” were the first words that came out of her mouth. Gramma didn’t butt in, she didn’t finish her sentences, and she didn’t pretend to understand how Macy was feeling. She waited until she was finished spilling her guts - telling her of her fear of settling down, her fear of missing out on something important, and the fear that she’ll never know who she really is. She let it all out, not realizing as Taylor left the table and came back a couple of times. And once she was finished letting it all out, Gramma began.

“Lemme tell you a story,” she countered, memories sparkling behind her eyes. “I got married when I was no older than you. Was pregnant and thought it’d be best. Now, I loved the guy, don’t get me wrong. But I wasn’t sure I was in love with him, know what I mean?”

Macy nodded, not knowing if she was expecting any other response.

“Well you see, this was a good man - I was lucky. Fifty years, we was married. Fifty years. Three kids and twelve grandbabies later, and I was no closer to knowing muhself than you are now. And he died last year,” Gramma said, her face turning somber, momentarily.

“I’m sorry,” Macy was quick to offer her condolence.

“Nonsense,” she waved her hand through the air, wiping the regretful look off of her face just as quickly as it had appeared. “Best thing that ever happened to me.” She chuckled lightly as Macy’s eyes widened with surprise. “Now, that’s not to say I don’t miss him, wish he was here every day. But it made me wake up to reality that I’m seventy-something and didn’t have a clue as to who I was without him. I made him - and the kids - my life. Now the kids are gown and Harold’s gone - what was I to do? What do you think I did?” She prodded.

Macy was unsure of what to say. “I…don’t know,” she admitted.

“I took dancing lessons,” she said with a straight face. Macy fought back the laughter until the smile on the woman’s face turned up. “I did,” she said over Macy’s laughter. “Salsa even a bit of hip hop. Wanted to stay young, y’know?” Macy nodded, trying her hardest not to laugh at the visual. She focused on Gramma’s words as she continued speaking. “I bought a computer - still don’t know how to use the darn thing. I joined a quilting class - and learned that I hate quilting. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“You tried new things?” Macy guessed.

“Exactly. You can’t know who you are if you never tried anything. You gotta push your limits - find out what you like and what you don’t.” Macy nodded as Gramma continued. “Take chances,” she added after a pause. “That’s the only way.”

“I guess I just don’t know where to start,” Macy admitted, watching as Taylor came back into the room with the little dog hot on his heels.

“Just take it one thing at a time. Think bout something you might like and give it a shot. You don’t think you know yourself, but you do. It’s right in here,” Gramma stated, poking Macy’s chest. “Life’s too short to be scared.”

Macy nodded, glancing at Taylor. He was watching them with a knowing smile.

“You know what’s wrong with marriages these days?” Gramma started in on a whole new topic. Neither Macy nor Taylor responded - they knew that it wasn’t a question for them to answer. “Youngin’s are out getting’ married thinkin’ they have it all figured out. But you ain’t got it all figured out until you’re dead, and then it’s too late to matter.” She cracked a smile, and then laughed at herself softly. “You gotta make sure you fit together before you get married. You couldn’t fit a quarter into a dime slot, you know? You gotta fit together like puzzle pieces - like peanut butter and jelly. Know what I’m saying, dear?”

Macy nodded enthusiastically, amused by the small tangent. “Like peanut butter and jelly,” she repeated.

“Exactly. But you know, everyone you know touches you in some way - they teach you something you couldn’t learn on your own. Everyone fits in your life somehow. Just take it one thing at a time, baby. One thing at a time.”

- - - -

A few hours after arriving at Gramma’s house, Macy stepped out of the kitchen to use the restroom before they hit the road once more. They had to make it back home in time to get ready for Tracey’s rehearsal dinner, otherwise neither of them would hear the end of it. Taylor wasn’t usually one for time restrictions and punctuality, but he believed Macy’s older sister when she said she’d have him by the nuts if he didn’t get Macy back in time, and he knew how important it was for Macy to be there - and not just for her sister’s sake. As Macy stepped out, Gramma stood up and began putting extra pie into Tupperware containers to send home. She set down a couple of them in front of Taylor and then took Macy’s chair next to him and leaned in close, like she had something very important to say - a secret, perhaps.

“She’s darling, Taylor,” Gramma stated, though it wasn’t said low like a secret should be. She held Taylor’s hands in hers. “You hold on to her, you hear me?”

Taylor nodded with a grin. “Of course.”

“I mean it,” she warned firmly. “She may be a little confused right now - but she loves you. I seen it in her eyes.”

“I know,” Taylor agreed.

“Don’choo give up on her. You keep her ‘roun’ an’ treat her good.”

“I will, Gramma,” Taylor promised. “I plan on it.”

Pleased with his response, Gramma squeezed his hands briefly before standing back up and continuing to mill about the kitchen. Macy returned shortly thereafter, and Taylor stated that they needed to hit the road to make it back in time for the dinner. Gramma immediately turned around to give her goodbyes.

“Thank you for the pie,” Macy said politely as Taylor stood to stand beside her.

“Oh, child. Don’t thank me. Come back soon and I’ll make yah some more, m’kay?”

Macy nodded, letting out a tiny laugh. “Okay,” she said as Gramma embraced her in tight hug.

“Keep him in line,” she told Macy. “Don’t let him get too wild on yah. You need a rolling pin?”

Macy stood stunned, registering what Gramma had just said when Taylor jumped in. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Gramma.”

“Of course you don’t, boy. That’s why I didn’t ask you.”

“I think I can handle him without one,” Macy finally stated, trying to hold back her laughter. It was transferred to her face as a large smile instead.

“Okay,” Gramma said, patting her on the cheek and then embracing her grandson in a hug that matched the one she’d given Macy. She continued to talk to the girl, however, as she hugged Taylor.

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will,” Macy agreed, locking amused eyes with Taylor.

“I got plenty to spare. Every woman needs one.”

“She’s got one, Gramma,” Taylor stated. “If she really needs one, she’s got it.”

As Taylor and Macy made their way back into the city, Macy reflected on all that his grandmother had said - all of the advice that she’d given her, and the way that she’d made her feel better about herself, just by speaking with honesty and wisdom. Macy had never met someone quite like her, and as she prepared herself for her sister’s upcoming wedding, she couldn’t help but feel joy and hope that one day she’d be able to stand in her sister’s shoes.

“Thank you for taking me to meet your grandma,” Macy said, breaking the quiet ride as they left the log cabin in the middle of nowhere behind. The music that Taylor had put on a CD was playing, but it was lowered - playing as mere background music.

Taylor smiled, proud of himself. “You’re welcome.”

“I think I pretty much adore her,” she said, making Taylor smile wider.

“I knew you would. And I do too.”

“And you know what else?” She decided suddenly, biting her lip to keep from smiling too big. Taylor took a quick glance at her, his eyes - glistening with happiness and pride - questioning her next words. “She likes me too.”

“She does,” Taylor agreed, dropping a hand to his thigh as he drove out of the woods and turned onto a blacktop road.

“She thinks I’m ‘darling’ and that you should keep me,” she cheeked.

Taylor chuckled with a small shake of his head. “You heard all that, huh?” He questioned.

“Yep.”

“Good,” he told her. “I meant everything I said.”

Macy was silent, letting the music playing from the speakers surround her and wrap her up in a warm cocoon of good feelings.

Tell me everything you need now, anything at all. And I will be the one who’s waiting any time you fall.

“You know what you are?” Macy said abruptly, reaching over to hold the hand that Taylor had resting on his thigh as he drove.

“What am I?” He laughed, squeezing her hand.

“You’re the peanut butter to my jelly.”

He grinned, understanding the underlying meaning. “I love you too.”