EXcapades (12 page)

“Don’t blame me if you get back home and realize you should have jumped at the opportunity.” He repeated his words with emphasis. “Don’t blame me.” And he laughed uproariously. He continued grinning as he picked up the bags and walked to the door.

Truth was, I couldn’t remember being as happy as I had been in his company. And maybe Blake shared that sentiment. This weekend, he gave me exactly what I needed.

We both grinned and took one last look around at the majestic beach house before closing the door on adventure number one.

During the drive back to Raleigh, we planned our next outing and agreed upon a mountain getaway. “Yes, there it is on my list,” I said. Mountain Escape was listed on my pink sheet of paper. I marked an X through it and put the list back in my purse.

When we arrived at my house, Blake kissed me tenderly. “I had an amazing time getting reacquainted this weekend. I have a huge project to complete for work. I will struggle to stay focused, but people are counting on me to finish,” he said.

“I know you’re a busy guy.”

“I’ll miss seeing you, but I can’t wait until we’re together again for our next adventure,” he said.

Blake helped me carry my luggage inside the house. Before leaving, he wrapped his powerful arms around me and pulled me close.

We stood together, studying each other, both reluctant to part ways. And when he kissed me good-bye, he held me tenderly. With a sigh, he regretfully tore himself away from our embrace.

In the next instant, he stepped toward the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned and stared at my face as if he wanted to freeze that second in time. Like a snapshot, he appeared to want to remember me, what I looked like at that moment.

A sense of loss pulsed through me. Before he could take another step, I ran after him for one last hug. He whispered, “I’ll call you. I promise you’ll be on my mind.”

“It’s more than that, though. I’ve always been a realist. Everything was too perfect this weekend. I know it has to come to an end and that makes me sad,” I said.

“We have a lot to be excited about the next time we get together in a few weeks,” he reassured me.

I waved as he drove away, and walked back inside and closed the door with a sigh. Yes, we would be together again soon.

Chapter 8

In the days following our vacation, I stayed busy with new projects. Sitting behind my art table, my mind began to wander back to the beach with Blake. I longed for his embrace. Before I could dwell on my sadness, the telephone rang. The voice on the other end was Jenny’s. “When are you going for that follow-up doctor’s appointment?”

“Well.” I paused. “I’ll make it one of these days.” Admittedly, I preferred to skip it altogether.
And that is the reason why I deleted all of those voicemail messages from the doctor.

I could picture Jenny sitting cross-legged on her dorm room bed with her laptop and books spread across her rumpled sheets. Her long brown hair was probably pulled tightly in a ponytail. And I bet she had on her black workout pants and her favorite UNC sweatshirt.

Today, Jenny sounded a little frustrated. “The doctor’s office left their phone number on the last two messages. You know, all those messages I posted on your cork board. I saved their phone number. Should I call them and reschedule for you?” she asked.

“No, it’s so sweet of you to remind me, but that won’t be necessary. I can take care of it. You stay focused on making those excellent grades.”

As we said our good-byes, I caught something in Jenny’s voice that made me wonder if she really enjoyed school as much as she claimed. She sounded—worried.

Blake called every night to check on me and discuss the day’s events. He cheered me by saying that the memories of us became the highlight of his day. We discussed how neither Blake nor I could sleep our first nights apart.
In our solitude, our thoughts returned to each other, and the fun we shared.

When he called this evening, he told me he dreamed each night of making love to me on the beach. Reluctantly, he began sharing his latest dream, one that he had last night. In a solemn tone, he said, “My dream, or should I say nightmare, started when I held you close. We were stretched out on the sand, and I kissed you lovingly, and then you . . . you disappeared. I cried in my dream and begged, ‘I don’t want you to leave me again.’ And then I woke up gasping for breath. You know, I spent the remainder of the night trying to come to terms with our newly rekindled romance and its effect on me.”

“I know. I have been thinking constantly about us,” I said.

He sighed and continued. “I must be falling hard for you. This is all happening so fast, and it’s bothering me to feel—vulnerable again. Is this just me, or are you feeling stirred? Is this my wishful thinking that you have feelings, too?”

“I want to be with you.”

Blake added, “I thought I picked up on a hint of hesitation about something, but I’m not sure if I read your mood correctly. Is there something you feel reluctant about?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer. Maybe I wasn’t sure what I was holding back. “I’m . . . excited to see you again,” I said.

And when we said goodnight, Blake told me he couldn’t wait to pick me up this weekend. I only hoped that the waves of pain would not reveal the truth. I kept that secret close to my heart, for me to endure.

Luckily, when the spasms of pain passed, I felt fine again. But I never knew when the next attack would occur. I lived in a state of apprehension. Finally, I relaxed and drifted off to sleep with loving thoughts of him.

I was not awakened by the soft whisper of a handsome gentleman or the calls from my butler telling me the cappuccino and eggs Benedict were ready, but instead from my reality, the whimper of my dog who wanted to go for a walk.

I stood up. “Okay, Elky, let me put on my shoes and grab your leash.”

Elky sat down on the floor next to my bed, her tail thumping the ground. Elky watched my every move as I dressed. And she followed close at my heels when I navigated the house to the front door.

I just zipped my jacket when the telephone rang. Looking at my phone, I could tell it was my mother’s number. I couldn’t imagine why she was calling this early in the morning. And I didn’t feel like talking to her until I’d had at least two cups of coffee. What kind of civilized person calls at the crack of dawn?

Without a pang of guilt, I let the call go into voicemail. She seemed unrelenting this morning when she called again. And again. Concerned there could be a problem, I picked up.

“Hello.”

“Dixie Elizabeth, this is your mother.” As if I needed her introduction.
I knew that voice.
And no one else called me Dixie Elizabeth.

“And how are you, Glenda Louise?” From her huff that followed, I knew my mother was not in the mood for playful banter this morning.

“
Jenny told me you still haven’t gone to that follow-up doctor’s appointment.”

You got that right,
I wanted to say, but bit my lip instead.

“Mother, I don’t want to go. Enough said; case closed,” I added in frustration. I tried to remind myself of all the good things she had done over the years. In truth, she had always been there for us. My mother became pregnant with my sister, Susan, while she was still in college. My parents married in a rush wedding weeks after they found out about the baby. Reluctantly, my mother quit school. She gave up her aspiration of becoming a veterinarian to stay home. She was a devoted mother, attending to our every need.

She never acted resentful, but I knew she had bigger dreams. Fortunately, all these years later, my parents were still happily married. My father, Wayne, worked hard as an insurance agent to provide for the family. His magnetic personality drew people to him. He was quick to laugh and made everyone feel welcome. As a result, he built up quite a clientele base until he retired a few years ago.

Through the years, we were a physically active family. The YMCA became our family’s favorite destination. When not involved in gymnastics or soccer, my sister and I practically lived at the gym or swimming pool. Susan and I were lucky to have such attentive parents. They stayed busy carting us from one activity to the next. They continued to stay involved and became doting grandparents to Jenny.

My mother had always been a fixture in my life, but sometimes she could be more involved and more rigid than I would like. And now, my mother lived vicariously through my sister. Susan never married but devoted herself full-time to her love of animals. Our entire family shared that love. She opened a veterinary hospital in Florida. My mother, grateful to return to Florida where she grew up, helps her manage the office. And to my mother’s delight, she gets to spend her days surrounded by animals and fulfill her childhood dream.

And now that Jenny was grown, the pieces just fell into place for them to follow Susan to Florida. The only sad part of this story was my parents’ reluctance to come back to visit. They felt as if it would dredge up too many memories to come back to Raleigh after living most of their adult lives here. And for my father, he lived his entire life in North Carolina. They had made it abundantly clear that if I wanted to see them, then I had to travel. Although the distance between us was probably a good thing, right now. My mother would be in my house daily reminding me to go to the doctor.

“You need to go,” she insisted. And in my mind’s eye, I could see her pointing her finger when she talked. “And what’s this I heard about you seeing Blake again? You know, word gets around fast when you are doing things you shouldn’t be doing,” she said in a reprimanding voice.

I had become used to her one-sided conversations where she chose not to listen to me and continued with her opinions.
Like a roller coaster taking off . . . here we go
. . .

“That boy is trouble.” She said the words matter-of-factly. “He was a bad influence on you then and will be again.”

“That was more than twenty years ago.” I could hear the petulance in my voice, but I couldn’t make it stop.

“Dixie Elizabeth, don’t count on his having changed much.” She ended her sentence in a shrill tone. I bit harder on my lip; this time I noticed the metallic taste of blood.

Why was it a parent can turn your name into angry expletives and use them almost like curse words? She might as well have been saying, “Silly Shit, he won’t change.”

But he had become the furthest thing from trouble. Her words almost sounded funny to me, knowing what an admirable person he had proven to be.
I mumbled, “Okay,” as I wondered who gossiped about my weekend with Blake. It was as if my mother had her eyes over my house and could see my actions.

Being careful with my response, I paused. “I have to go, Mother, but I’ll call you tomorrow.” As soon as I hung up, I felt relief.

It had taken me half a lifetime to figure out that some people bring a positive energy into one’s life, and others just suck the life right out of one’s positive energy. I guess I needed to be more understanding and realize that we can all be emotional vampires at one point or another. Not that I was implying anything about my mother; her intentions might be good, even if her delivery could use some—improvement.
Understatement of the day.

While passing the mailbox after my long stroll with Elky, I realized I hadn’t checked it the day before. Sorting through the mail, I spotted a bright pink envelope with scribbled handwriting. I opened it. I pulled out a slip of yellow construction paper covered with glitter. I unfolded the paper that had been cut into the shape of an angel. On it were the words:

Please, be my snow angel. I can’t wait to make love to you in the cold mountain air. See you on Friday.

Hugs,

Blake

(Your warm protector from the cold snowflakes . . . I know I got a little carried away with that one. The forecast calls for snow in the mountains!)

I tucked my new treasure under my arm and walked Elky into the house. After hanging the leash in the garage, I tacked the angel onto the cork board over my computer. Just as I was admiring his handiwork, the doorbell rang.

Peering through the glass, I felt relieved to see Jane. I opened the door, greeted her, and motioned her inside.

“Hi. I saw you out walking earlier. Jenny just called me and said to remind you to make a doctor’s appointment.” She blasted her words with her usual exuberance.

“Oh, no,” I screamed out abruptly, startling her.

“What is it, my outfit?” she asked. “You’re right. Ruffles never looked good on me. I’ll go home, change, and come back,” she said flippantly.

“No, your tennis skirt is cute. It’s just that you are the third person in the past two days to confront me about that doctor’s appointment,” I said, feeling my cheerful mood fading. “You know that occasionally I see a therapist to help get me through this divorce. My rule is one doctor is plenty.”

“I hear you,” she said.

“Why are you looking at me with disappointed eyes?” I asked.

“I’m just concerned about you.”

“I’m fine. Seeing my therapist has been more than enough doctor visits for me. And thank goodness for her. A couple times during this past year, I thought I might be losing it.” I took a gulping breath. “If overcoming mental anguish makes you stronger, than I should be freaking Wonder Woman by now. And you know, one day I thought I had superpowers, but the therapist lady took them away from me.”

Jane wiped her eyes and laughed wholeheartedly. “You’re so funny. Lila, you’re the strongest person I know. And it’s visible to everyone else how tough you really are.”

But deep down I was beginning to question my strength.

Finally, she choked out the words, “I know you too well. You were only crazy to stay married to Peter for all of those years. He never did appreciate all that you did for him.”

“I agree.” I sighed. “And I pay my therapist to agree with me, as well. And you know what, Jane? Joking about the madness of it all makes it easier. My world has been topsy-turvy for a year, but I’m slowly coming to terms with my new reality.”

In an unrelenting tone, she asked, “Well, when are you going to make that doctor’s appointment?” She blurted out a reprimand before I could reply. “You need to make that appointment.”

“Okay. I will,” I managed to say before she continued.

“I’m going to take you if you don’t take yourself. Don’t stay so busy hanging out with your hot ex—Blake—that you forget to take care of yourself.” She said her good-byes and left, vowing to check on whether I held true to my words.

It couldn’t have been twenty minutes after Jane left that Jenny called. There was a silence on the other end of the line for a second before I heard Jenny speak.

“I made your follow-up appointment for tomorrow morning. Don’t tell me you’re too busy this time,” she warned in a harsh tone. “It doesn’t matter if you tear up more of those reminder notes because I’m coming to pick you up regardless. I don’t have any classes in the morning, so I’m taking you to the appointment.”

“That’s nice of you, Jenny, but don’t I get a vote? And who is the mother here?” I teased.

“Well, Mom, how would you vote?” she asked.

“You win.” I conceded.

“Good. I’ll be there at nine a.m. to pick you up,” Jenny reaffirmed in a calming tone.

“See you in the morning, sweetheart.” I could hardly finish that last word as the chill of fear gripped me by the throat. I struggled to hang up the telephone.
Darn these nervous hands.