30 Days

Prologue

The list!
I can't forget the list.
I rip it from the wall fold it up and stuff it in my sports bra. My heart is beating wildly in my chest. I feel frantic and I’m starting to sweat. I pull on my hoodie sans hood strings of course, slip my feet into my lace less Keds and make my way to Manny’s sleeping form.

It’s eerily quiet in the corridor right now. Just the faint hum of the ice machine and various beeps and buzzes from patients rooms. I quietly sneak around the nurses’ station desk and crouch down to Manny.
I’m so sorry. I really do like you. Please forgive me.
I tug his wallet out of his back pocket and remove all the cash. A hundred dollars will be plenty to tide me over until the morning. I stuff the cash in my sports bra. I unclip Manny’s employee badge from the front of his shirt, toss the wallet on the desk next to his head and quickly walk down the hall.

Every noise, every beep, every voice makes me panic and stop moving. I press myself into the wall until I’m sure it’s nothing.
This is crazy Elle. What are you doing?
I silently scold myself. When I’m sure the coast is clear I walk to the main doors of our floor and hold Manny’s badge up to the magnetic reader. A slight click alerts me that all I have to do is push the door in front of me and I’m as good as free. My hand shakes as I raise it up to the door. It feels heavy and like someone else’s arm. With my palm on the door I lean into my arm slightly until it opens just enough for me to slip through.

I try to walk as inconspicuously as possible to the elevators and punch the down button. There is no one in the hallway except a few passing laundry aids who pay me no mind. The fact that I’m wearing scrubs, a hoodie and white sneakers is probably my only saving grace. I blend in pretty well. The elevator dings and the doors open. I put one foot in front of the other until I’m safely inside before hitting the lobby button. My skin feels like it’s on fire. My breath is quick and shallow and my heart is beating so fiercely in my rib cage that I’m afraid it might crack bone.

The elevator dings again and the doors slide open. I step out of the metal box turn left and keeping my chin down, head for the glass front doors. The fifty foot walk seems to take forever. There is a woman sitting behind the information desk who’s watching me. I tilt my head up and smile at her. She smiles back. The revolving doors close around me as I step into their spin and then I’m out.

It’s the end of July or the first week of August. I’m not sure which. It’s muggy and damp and hot out. The humidity assaults my lungs when I try to inhale. It’s definitely too hot for a sweatshirt but I only have a sports bra on underneath it. I keep walking further and further away from the hospital until I’m sure that if someone looked out a window they wouldn't see me. I walk into the nearest convenience store to buy a pack of gum and a bottle of water. The air conditioning in the store feels heavenly. I’m dripping with sweat from my walk here and nerves.

I did it. I’m out! A wave of relief washes over me leaving me temporarily giddy. When I exit the store I notice a few taxis parked and waiting across the street. I make my way over to one of them. “Could you take me to a cheap hotel?” I ask the cabby through the open window.

“How cheap?”

“Dirt cheap.” I reply. He nods his head at me and I open the back door and climb in. He drives four blocks before pulling up in front of a dilapidated brick building. “They rent by the hour.” He informs me.

I didn't mean this cheap but honestly it will do. I hand him a ten dollar bill and get out of the cab. When I finally check in, paying for one night, I’m left with fifty two dollars and change. The cab ride to my house from here will be at least thirty dollars. I
lie down on top of the blankets fully clothed and stare at the chipping ceiling paint.
Jenny, we did it. I’m out. Almost free. Stay with me.
The bed is lumpy and the room smells funny. I close my eyes trying to ignore my surroundings and an hour later I fall asleep.

I wake with a start. I’m groggy and can't remember where I am. It’s disorienting. When my brain catches up with me I let out a squeal of joy. This is the dirty, cheap hotel. I am
not
in my sterile room.
I escaped.

PRESENT

The sun is shining through the sheer curtains. I stretch my arms and legs, arching my back. I haven’t slept so well in a long time. I feel rested. When I open my eyes the sheer blue of the bedroom walls calms me. I can hear the waves lapping the sand outside and seagulls squawking. It’s going to be a good day, I can feel it. I smile as I roll out of bed and start the coffee maker before brushing my teeth. Back in the kitchen I grab the new mug I bought yesterday that reads ‘step aside coffee, this is a job for alcohol’. It made me giggle, so I bought it. Setting it on the counter I turn and reach for the fridge handle. The list hangs directly in my line of sight. Have dinner alone- is at the top of it. 

I yank the door open, grab the creamer and head outside with my coffee and a cinnamon roll from the bakery up the street.
Morning Jenny. This is day one sister! I’m going to tackle that stupid list if it’s the last thing I do. Love you.
I sink my teeth into the cinnamon roll and moan. Inspecting it further it has got to be the
best
cinnamon roll I’ve ever put in my mouth. Its perfect parts icing, dough and cinnamon and I think I could eat ten of them. I try to savor it, really I do, but I pretty much shoved as much as possible in my mouth and finish it in three bites. I pick up the complimentary paper left on the patio set every morning and thumb through the pages leisurely as I finish my coffee.

I choke on a sip of my coffee when I see my picture, the same one from the TV, printed on the back page of the third section. It’s a missing person’s type ad but also goes on to say that I am a possible danger to myself and to please call Mick Tyson with information. Who is Mick Tyson? I grab my kindle and open up the web to search him.  I really wish I had my laptop.

Mick
has a 90% success rate when searching for missing persons.

Supply him with the information on the locate missing person sheet

and he will do the rest. Everything is confidential.

For a free confidential & discreet consultation, call
888-800-3455

I blow out a breath. Great. Not entirely the perfect morning I had planned. Well Mick, I hate to foil your plans but Elle Darling is not going to be found. I have thirty things to get done and intend on doing them. It helps that I’m paying for everything in cash. I’m not as stupid as Ryan thinks. With new found determination I decide to take a shopping trip today and give myself a makeover.

I hit the salon first indulging in a long overdue manicure and a pedicure. While my nails are drying I get an amazing facial that leaves me feeling like a new person. Lastly I get a haircut. I’ve always kept my hair long, at least half way down my back but I have the stylist cut in some long wispy bangs and bring it up so my newly brunette hair skims my shoulders. I look better than I have in months. Healthy. Alive. Almost vibrant.

I leave the salon with a smile on my face and a spri
ng in my step. I feel wonderful and I haven’t felt that way in years.

Now it’s time for some serious shopping. I want a new look for my wardrobe. I’ve always dressed fairly preppy but I think it’s time to go with a more laid back look. One that suits
me
better. I am now laid back, happy go lucky Elle. At least I’m trying to be. I want fun clothes. I want comfortable clothes. I stop into almost every boutique on the little downtown strip and start building a playful, yet comfortable wardrobe. Turns out, to my delight I’m a size smaller now too.  Stress will do that to you I suppose. Things I never thought I could pull off before look amazing now. Maybe it’s just my new outlook or maybe the one size down is the reason. Either way, I don't care. I’m having a blast trying everything on.

By the time I’ve finished shopping I am tired and starving. I head back to the cottage to unload my new things. Tonight I have dinner alone. At a restaurant. I need to pick something that says I’m not on a date, and I’m not a pathetic woman eating alone. Needless to say I deliberate on this conundrum for a while.

I settle on a jean skirt, a green cotton tee and a pair of wedge sandals. I grab my purse and stand at the door, knob in hand.
This better not end up sucking Jenny.
I twist the knob, push the door ajar and start walking. I wander up and down the main drag a few times passing restaurants and trying to decide which on one. Some are just too fancy to eat at alone. Dimly lit, soft music playing and couples handholding. Some are too loud and the crowd too young for my taste. The Pig Pit is where I end up at. There is bluesy music drifting through the air and it’s decorated in plain metal tables that have brushed steel tops. It’s crowded but not loud or overwhelming.
 

“How many tonight.” The hostess asks.

“Just one.” I reply trying my best not to sound sad, lonely or pathetic, like I feel.

“Right this way.” She walks me to a small table in the corner at a window. I look at the menu and quickly decide on a pulled pork sandwich with all the fixings. The waiter comes, takes my order and promises to return with my lemon water shortly.

As I sit there looking around, watching the other customers I realize that no one is paying attention to me. I’m a ghost. I, however, notice all of them. There are some really interesting conversations. A group of college aged guys are talking about a professor who apparently spits when he talks and therefore, no one wants to sit in the front two rows. How spit can reach two rows back is baffling to me. I chuckle quietly to myself listening to their banter. The table to my back is involved in a much deeper conversation about God and his existence. I almost choke on my water as a woman counters her friend asking ‘if God exists then what's up with the Holocaust?’.

“Here you are.” The waiter smiles as he puts my food down in front of me. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you.”

I put my napkin in my lap and dig in. My eyes dart around as I take small bites of my sandwich. There are a few guys at the bar who keep looking over here but besides that no one seems to notice that I am sitting alone eating. Plus the three guys at the bar aren’t ugly. I don't openly stare at them because I don't want to draw attention to myself but the quick glances that I do steal, shows them all to be quite attractive.
Ok, maybe you were right... no one gives a shit. It’s not so bad. I don't feel like a leper. Yet.

By the time I finish quite possibly one of the best pulled pork sandwiches in history, what did they put in it anyways? Goat cheese maybe, I am so stuffed I feel like I’m going to waddle home. The waiter brings me the check and after settling the bill I stand to make my way out.

“Hey.” A voice calls. I ignore it because obviously they couldn't be talking to me. “Hey, excuse me.” I stop and turn towards the voice. Two light blue eyes on a handsome face meet mine.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Would you like to join us for a drink?” He asks as he motions to the other two guys. I feel a smile creep over my face. They are hitting on me! “Um, thanks for the offer but no.” I retort.