Categorized | Authors, Features

A Place for Authors: Mylynda Nellermoe

Posted on 28 September 2010 by Mylynda Guthrie

"Olivetti Green" pen and ink by Virginia Kraljevic

"Olivetti Green" pen and ink by Virginia Kraljevic

See Nothing Wrong

“Hey, miss, you got a light?” he says.

He says it and I hear him but I act like I don’t.  I mean, come on, I’m sitting here in my god damn wedding dress on a dirty park bench and this creep is asking me for a light.  Last time I checked wedding dresses didn’t come standard with pockets so maybe he’s thinking I have a lighter and a pack of smokes strapped under my garter. Uh-huh. Right.

“Hey, are, uh….are you ok?” he asks now and I still act like I haven’t heard a thing besides the kids playing in the grass behind me.  One of them, a little girl, screams at her male companion “I’d rather eat that spider than play with you!” and I think, “Good girl.”  And meanwhile this guy has the nerve to sit down next to me.  I’m interested in spite of myself to hear what this smooth operator will try first.

“You late for somewhere?” he asks.


“Nope. I was on time.”

“Ah. I see. So, he didn’t show?”

“No….he showed.”

“He left?”


“I see.  Well, the way I see it, a man only gets left by a woman if he was never truly there.”

I turn toward him.  I meet his eyes.  I smile.


Thus it happens that not more than five hours after leaving my first husband-to-be mouth agape in front of 170 dumbfounded friends and relatives that I meet the man who will be my second attempt.  They’re not much alike, One and Two.

One was a cocky, corn-fed blonde who was a college linebacker and worshipped Lynyrd Skynyrd and thin redheads.  My hair is brown.

Two has a shock of thick black hair and an aloof, “I don’t give a fuck” attitude that I find instantaneously infuriating and attractive.  It’s part of his charm, and he is assuredly charming.  His name is Liam and I think it couldn’t be more perfect.  I tell him my name is Rachel.  I don’t even know if he cares but I’m not sure I do either at this point.


A year later Liam and I are in bed together after a night at the bar that I won’t recall in the morning.  I’ve got my head on his chest, and I’m listening to his heartbeat as if it’s the prettiest lullaby I’ve ever heard.

“Ray, do you believe in karma?” he asks.

I hiccup.  I sigh.  “What?”

“Karma.” I can hear the exasperation in his voice.  He never says so but he fancies himself to be much more intelligent than I am.  “You know, ‘what goes around comes around’?”

I hiccup again and try to burrow deeper into his chest.  “No, I don’t believe in it.”

“I do,” he says quietly.  Then he starts to say how he never thought it was right the way I left One at the altar but like I said in the morning I won’t remember any of this.  I focus on the steady beat muffled in his chest, and as I drift off to sleep I’ve already forgotten.


One night we’re at a party in his friend Marie’s new loft in Uptown where I’m enjoying myself very little.  All the time I spent perfecting my appearance seems trite now while I watch Liam across the room laughing with a cute blonde woman.  Not even a woman, a girl.  She throws her head back and howls, undoubtedly at something witty Liam has just said, and I grimace as my stomach churns.

Her teeth are much whiter than mine.


Eighteen months after he first spotted me in my virginal wedding dress, he has me squeezed into it again.  It is a size too small but when we found out I was pregnant we wanted to wed right away, so I had no time to shop for a new gown.

We arrive at the courthouse together.  My mother and his friend are already inside.  Liam’s parents are deceased and my father told me yesterday that he is jealous because he’d rather be dead than watch me give marriage another go. I thought it was harsh.

We and our two witnesses stand before the official.  The old man has hardly let a full sentence escape his lips before Liam raises a hand to silence him.

I start to sweat.  Liam’s eyes lock with mine and though he is smiling sweetly I see a strangeness in them that I do not recognize.

I wish I wasn’t crying but I am, of course.


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