Sabrina looked in the mirror.

“Smile,” she told herself and groaned.

She looked like a model for a toothpaste commercial.

Try again.

“Smile,” she repeated.

It was no use.

There was no way she could pull off a winning smile when meeting Joel.

Sabrina pushed away from the antique mirror. She looked around her apartment. The space was cramped, no surprise for New York City, but she didn’t mind the tiny living quarters. The three rooms were much smaller than the house she’d shared with Joel, but she much preferred her cozy new home with a few of the art pieces she’d bargained for at her new job.

She sat down on the bed, pulling the comforter her grandmother made around her shoulders. Sabrina could feel the tears starting to roll down her cheeks.

“Stop it,” she told herself. “Smile.”

That command made her feel worse.

Sabrina stood up and went over to the window. The apartment might be tiny, but there were perks. The morning sun was filtered, thanks to the high rises above her. But she had a fabulous view of the sunrise every day.

Her view wasn’t what she’d had in California. She remembered the day Joel took her to a trendy neighborhood just outside of Los Angeles.

“Look at his bungalow,” he’d said. Joel, tall and confident, stood in front of a pale blue house. There were roses blooming in the front yard, and a short, white picket fence framed the scene.

“Get out of the car and come see this closer,” he’d demanded. Sabrina got out of the car and walked up to the fence. She had to admit, she’d never seen anything so charming, especially in California where plastic seemed to be the common denominator for the people and places.

“I rented it,” he said, pride in his voice. “I’ve come a long way from that dump in New York.”

Sabrina looked at him sharply.

“Without talking to me first?” she said. They’d only been married six months, but she was beginning to notice things about Joel she hadn’t seen before. When he presented her with an engagement ring, she was thrilled. Still, there was a tiny voice in her head whispering he hadn’t asked what kind of ring she wanted. Sabrina, a practical, no-nonsense woman, would’ve asked for matching bands. Instead, she got a garish engagement ring. It was cubic zirconium, but Joel made her promise not to tell anyone.

“Let them think your boyfriend’s on fire,” he’d said.

Joel’s job with an investment firm had suddenly taken them to California. Sabrina had to leave her job at a Soho auction house behind. When she complained that she didn’t want to go to California – the prices were too high, the weather was always the same – Joel had yanked her hair to turn her face to him.

“Smile,” he’d said. There wasn’t any humor in his voice. Just a command.

“I’m handing you the moon, and this is a golden opportunity for me,” he said. “Stop complaining and whining about getting your way. If it’s good for me, it’s good for us.”

He let go of her hair and tried to soften his voice.

“You’ll find a job out there,” he said, the malice still there. “They auction junk off in California just like they do in Soho.”

So here they were, standing in front of a house she should’ve immediately fallen in love with.

“Smile,” she told herself. “Joel’s a good provider. You can relax and let him take care of everything.”

And that’s exactly what she’d done for two years.

Sabrina bought a bathing suit, had her dark blonde hair highlighted, and, with Joel’s insistence, traded in her bright red reading glasses for contacts. Those were adjustments on the surface. She had trouble making friends, conversation about Botox, marital infidelities and refinishing antique furniture not to her taste.

She yearned to find someone to talk with about the influence of French writers, the significance of Susan Sontag and the meaning behind Paul Simon’s songs. But she put on a smile day after day, ignored Joel’s growing bullying and told herself she should be happy. She had everything her mother told her a woman would want.

“But not Grandma Noelle,” she said softly. Sabrina looked back at the quilt, went over to the bed and sat down. She pulled the quilt around her again, the soft cotton fabric taking her back to her childhood. Sabrina had watched Grandma Noelle make the quilt when Sabrina and her mother lived with the older woman in Natchez, Mississippi.

Sabrina would listen to her grandmother’s stories as Noelle stitched. In with the tales of growing up in the Mississippi country, Grandma Noelle gave her advice.

“Be sure and keep the bacon fat in a tin container,” she’d told her. “That comes in handy when you’re cooking green beans out of the garden. And always make sure you have some cornbread in the pantry. Fresh baked cornbread goes with everything from red beans to pork chops.”

Grandma Noelle also gave her advice about life.

“When things get bad, find something else to do. Get rid of what’s ailing you, put your shoulders back and smile,” she’d told her granddaughter.

Sabrina wondered what her grandmother would think of her now. A wrecked marriage, an entry-level job at an auction house and no man in her life. But she was living with few regrets.

Sabrina remembered the moment she decided to leave Joel. She’d gone to the farmer’s market that morning and purchased fresh vegetables, chicken and a bottle of wine. Feeling homesick, she’d stopped at the grocery store and bought a big can of Crisco. She filled a frying pan with the white lard, got it hot and deep fried the seasoned chicken, just as Grandma Noelle had taught her. When it came to the green beans, she opened the jar of bacon fat she’d bought at the store – yes, they sell that she marveled – and the smells brought her back to her childhood.

When Joel came in and saw the green beans smothered in fat and the fried chicken draining on a paper towel, he flew into a rage.

“I make all this money and you want to act like some country hick, fresh off the farm?” he’d yelled. “I’ve told you before what kind of life I had before I got this job. I’m not going back to being some hick where there’s no indoor plumbing.”

Sabrina was afraid. He’d yelled before, but he’d never been threatening. Joel’s face was red, and he threw his laptop across the room. Then he took the pan of green beans, walked over to the back door and threw the pan and beans out into the yard.

“That’s what I think of that crap,” he said. He turned and came over to Sabrina. He stopped right in front of her face.

“If you ever disgrace me again by thinking I’d eat that cracker food, you’ve got another thing coming,” he said softly. “Now you get that crap out of my house. The next time I come home, there better be something worth eating in this kitchen.”

Sabrina started to cry.

Joel slapped her across the face. She was stunned. He’d come close to hitting her before, but had never actually followed through.

“Stop that sniveling,” he said. “Smile. Your life is pretty damned good.”

He’d stormed out of the kitchen, and Sabrina quickly got rid of all the food she’d bought that day. She slept on the couch that night while Joel took the bedroom. Her grandmother’s words kept coming back to her – “find something better.”

After a pouting and sullen Joel went to work, Sabrina packed her clothes, toiletries, a few childhood photos and her grandmother’s quilt. She knew Joel kept cash in his shaving kit, so she cleaned that out.

“A thousand dollars might get me out of this awful state,” she thought.

Some women might leave right then, but Sabrina wasn’t that naïve. She transferred $5,000 from her and Joel’s joint account into a personal account she’d had for years. Shaky but knowing she was doing the right thing, Sabrina booked a ticket on a train from Los Angeles to New York, charging it to her old MasterCard. The website stated the train would take three days.

“That should be long enough for me to figure things out,” she thought to herself. As the train sped through the plains, deserts and mountains, Sabrina came up with a plan. She got off the train in New Mexico, threw away her cell phone and bought a new one, paying in cash. Before throwing the old phone in a sidewalk trash can, she checked her voice messages. Fifteen were from Joel. Most were threatening to take her to court over the money she’d stolen. He’d also sent at least 100 text messages threatening to find her, get the money out of her somehow, that she wasn’t worth the dirt on his shoes. Sabrina didn’t reply to any of them. Instead, she spent the rest of the trip online finding an apartment in her price range.

After she got to New York, Sabrina wasted no time lining up job interviews. A week later, she had a new job at an art auction house and ate fried chicken at least once a week.

Here it was, six months later, and Joel had found her. It was almost impossible for people to stay hidden in the modern age, she’d realized. When she came to work yesterday, her boss handed her an envelope.

“Some guy with a fake tan left this for you,” he’d said. Sabrina’s hands started shaking the minute she saw the handwriting on the envelope. It was from Joel. She tore open the envelope and read the short note: “Meet me at the coffee shop on the corner tomorrow at noon. You owe me.”

She didn’t sleep all night, wondering if she should show up or disappear again. But she remembered the words of her grandmother – cowards run away. She’d face Joel and get this over, once and for all.

So here she was, practicing her smile in the mirror.

“You need to be practicing your defensive tactics when he tries to hit you,” she told herself.

At noon, Sabrina walked into the coffee shop and saw Joel sitting at a table in the back. He was a handsome man, she had to admit. The California sun suited him as did the expensive casual clothes he was wearing.

She sat down and looked at him, not saying a word. He had a laptop case on the floor next to his chair.

“You did a good job at trying to hide, but I found you,” he said. Sabrina stayed quiet.

“Look, I’m good at knowing when to give up and when to keep going,” he continued. He looked at her like she was the trash he’d put out the night before.

“You’re really not worth the chase,” he said. “In the beginning, I was pretty pissed off. But in the end, it was worth the five grand to get rid of you. I’ll make that much and more in a week.”

He reached in the case and took out a folder. He slid it across the table. When she didn’t move, he opened the folder and put a pen down on top of a stack of papers in the folder.

“These are divorce papers. Sign where the yellow post-it notes are,” he said. “California makes it easy and simple. I’ll be free after you sign these. We’ll just call this what it was – a big mistake. I gave you the world and you spit in my face.”

He put two stacks of paper in front of her.

“One’s for me, one’s for you,” he said.

Sabrina took the pen, never looking at him. She knew she should’ve had a lawyer look at the papers but she didn’t want to have anything more to do with Joel. She glanced quickly through them, remembering California was a no-fault state when it came to divorce. She was also entitled to half of their assets. Joel, cunningly, had rented their bungalow and the cars so, on paper, it looked like they only had cash and their personal belongings.

She signed where indicated on both copies and put the pen down. Joel picked it up and signed where his name was listed. Then he slid one copy across the table to her.

“Now I’m free,” he said. “Now that I know where you work, my lawyer will send a final judgment to you there. All I can say now is good riddance to white trash.”

Sabrina didn’t say a word. Instead, she smiled. A genuine, true and honest smile. She picked up her papers, slid back her chair and walked out of the coffee shop, the smile never leaving her face.

dhadams1955@yahoo.com