With spring came many things. As it so often does, spring brought the promise of new things; new beginnings, new hope. It also brought about a major change in my life. Kevin had purchased a spacious apartment only a few blocks from my shop. So big was it in fact that I was quite certain my shop would fit easily into it....half a dozen times over. It was my desire to surround myself with things that belonged to him that made my decision to move into the apartment and easy one. Although he would be there with me only when time allowed, I would at least have constant reminders of him in his clothes, his piano, his bed.
I had stopped asking Kevin about divorcing Kristin. His constant promises that he was taking care of things finally were enough. I trusted him. I could see his love for me in his eyes, could taste it on his lips when he kissed me, could feel it in his hands when he touched me. I knew it was something that would have to happen gradually, as too many things with his group had gone wrong with in a matter of months and Kevin feared that another abrupt change would be detrimental to their career. I accepted his explanation, confident that eventually things would settle down and it would be only the two of us.
Despite my confidence, it still stung when I’d catch a glimpse of her walking behind him on the red carpet as I watched him on television. I still felt the punch when he would mention her in interviews. I still felt the twinges of doubt when he would come to me, the thick gold band that represented his promise to her still upon his ring finger. But I pushed those pains away, not allowing myself to doubt him. He had my heart, mind and soul and I knew that his too, was with me.
I had packed up all of my belongings and was actually excited about the prospect of a new home. It was freshly painted with no history, something that weighed both good and bad in my mind. As the last few boxes were loaded onto Gretchen’s husband’s truck I went back into the shop to grab one thing that I knew would make the new apartment seem more familiar. I bent down and grabbed a few boxes of my favorite incense and noticed the remnants of a tiny spider web. I sighed to myself, remembering the way the little spider had worked so hard, and for what?? A web woven in hopes of something great, when in the end she had died, leaving behind only a few wispy reminders that she was ever even there.
I brushed away the web, remembering a poem I had been made to memorize so many years ago when I was a young teenaged student. ‘The spider and the fly’ I thought to myself, smiling at the memory of practicing it over and over again, my father a generous and appreciative audience no matter the number of times I had needed to start over again. I walked down the street to meet my friends, to move my every possession into the spacious apartment that I would share with Kevin. And as I walked I recited the story in my mind:
“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the Spider to the fly.
“‘Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show you when you are there.”
“Oh no, no,” said the Fly, “to ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”
“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the Spider to the Fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin;
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in!”
“Oh no, no” said the little Fly, “for I’ve often heard it said
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!”
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, “Dear friend, what can I do
To prove that warm affection I’ve always felt for you?
I have within my pantry, good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome - will you please take a slice?”
“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “kind sir, that cannot be,
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!”
“Sweet creature,” said the Spider, “you’re witty and you’re wise;
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf;
If you step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.”
“I thank you, gentle sir,” she said “for what you’re pleased to say;
And bidding good morning now, I’ll call another day.”
The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again;
So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
“Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple, there’s a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are as dull as lead.”
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue;
Thinking only of her crested head - poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den
Within his parlor - but she ne’er came out again!
And now, dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne’er heed;
Unto an evil counselor close heart, and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly