Glimmers (10 page)

For a minute, I forget all about William and his mother. I forget about how my heart has been run through the grinder. I forget about how cruel life can be at times. For now, I’m Delilah, a chef who’s about to own the best restaurant the world has ever seen.

After packing up the food and cleaning up my mess. I stumble back to my room and change for bed. Ah, comfort. Instantaneously, two things happen; my head hits the pillow and I drift into a deep sleep.

~ * * * ~

It’s noon before I even bother looking at the clock. Eventually, I pull my weary body out of bed and head for the shower. The gentle spray of water massages into my aching muscles. It’s the little things that’ll bring me back to life.

I’m concerned. William, most likely, will come by soon. I want to stay clear of him. I must get out of my house. I must go somewhere where William won’t be able to find me.

Lydia will be here any minute, and I’ll let her know we have to leave—right away. Thank goodness, she agrees with my plan and takes me to a place where we used to play as children. It’s both peaceful and safe. Our dads built a fort here for us years ago. I can’t believe Lydia and I still fit inside its rickety wooden walls.

A breeze finds its way between cracks in the boards. I close my eyes and allow the cool air to caress my face. Ah, flowers and fresh grass.

Few words pass between Lydia and me. Sometimes, it’s better to relax in the serenity of silence . . . for a few seconds anyway. It doesn’t take long for Lydia to ask the burning question, “So you gonna avoid him?”

“I can’t face William. He can be awfully convincing, and I don’t want to be talked into changing my mind,” I say, but Lydia doesn’t look convinced.

“Are you really sure that’s what you want?”

“No. I
know
that isn’t what I want. It’s what’s best, though. The more time that goes by, the deeper in love I fall. I need to protect myself.”

“All right, you know I support you. In fact, I’m gonna get your next couple shifts covered for you. Even, if I have to work your tables myself. The boss-man will understand; don’t you worry about a thing, jellybean.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to put you through the trouble. I’ll be able to work my shifts.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it! You’re gonna just have to let me do somethin’ for you. Unless you want to walk yourself all the way to The Greenbrier, you better stay home and take care of yourself.”

I giggle at the thought of trudging to work in pumps. A smile finally comes to my face. Lydia’s the best. I appreciate her more than words can ever express.

“All right, you win, but only cover two days for me. I don’t want to stay away for too long,” I say and peer out the crooked window. “Hopefully, by then he’ll be long gone.”

~ * * * ~

Being housebound makes me stir-crazy, and later the next evening, I want to explode. Perhaps staying home from work isn’t such a brilliant idea. I’m anxious to talk to Lydia. I wonder if she has seen William, yet.

Shep is sitting in his favorite chair, watching me pace the floor. “You’re gonna wear a hole in that rug if you don’t hold still.”

Just yesterday, I spilled everything to him. This is new territory for us. I don’t think he has any idea how to console me, but he has listened and given me many heartfelt hugs. I’m satisfied.

The phone rings. Shep and I look at each other. It’s time for the Lydia report.

In an acrobatic feat, I dive across the room and chime into the receiver, “All right, Lydia, tell me everything!”

“William was wonderin’ where you were. He asked about you several times,” Lydia informs.

“Well, what’d you tell him?” I ask, and I’m just dying to jump through the phone.

“Nothin’, which made it worse, I think. By the end of the night, he left me alone though. I think he got the picture.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say and hang up the phone.

~ * * * ~

A couple days later, I finally return to work. When I arrive, I discover William is gone . . . literally gone. According to Lydia, he returned to his home in D.C. Unfortunately, his parents stay at the resort for the remainder of the week. I’m sure they’re here to keep an eye on me.

I must remain positive and concentrate on my future. More than ever, I am determined to make my dream come true. Heck, I’ll be too busy creating a new world for myself to ever bother with falling in love again.

I wasn’t kidding when I told William I wanted to open a restaurant right here in Lewisburg, West Virginia. But first, I have something I must accomplish, like tackling a bigger city and making a name for myself. Maybe I’ll go somewhere tropical. I can see myself strolling along sandy beaches, while dreaming up recipes for my restaurant. One day,
Desirez’
will be a huge success!

For now, I’ll just spend the remaining part of summer standing by the jukebox, holding a handful of quarters, and playing my favorite song,
American Girl
. I finally understand the last few lines. When I close my eyes, I pretend William is with me. I whisper along with the lyrics, “And for one desperate moment there, he crept back in her memory. God it’s so painful, something that’s so close and still so far out of reach.” And when the song ends, I place more quarters into the box. I wait for the music, and when it plays, I hum along with Tom Petty, over and over again.

Paige, Monday Afternoon

Kitchen Counter

My hands are white, chalk-white, and clutching the countertops in
my
kitchen. Frantically, I look around and discover I have returned. I shake my head, trying to clear the fog. From the hallway, I can hear my husband; he’s coming this way.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here. What are you cooking?” Elliott inquires, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek.

I stare at him blankly, while trying to process what has just occurred.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asks, gently placing a hand on my back.

No, I’m not all right! I’m freaking out! What just happened? Where was I?

Okay, I’ll nod and sit on a chair. I am able to do this successfully, but Elliott is quickly by my side. “Paige, you have tears running down your face. What happened?”

It’s difficult to say, since I have no idea!

“I’m fine. I was . . . chopping onions,” I whisper. “How long have I been gone?”

“Gone? Paige, did you go somewhere?” he questions, sounding really worried.

I glance down at my watch. How is that possible? Only thirty minutes have gone by. I gaze up at the simmering pot. Did I just cook something?

“You’re home from work early,” I finally realize.

“Yes, do you need for me to pick up the kids?”

“That would probably be a good idea. I feel kind of strange,” I say and look up at his concerned face. “You know, I must be exhausted. My mind’s just playing some strange tricks on me.”

“What kind of tricks? What are you talking about, Paige?”

“Geez Louise Elliott, you’d think I was standing here in a straitjacket the way you’re staring at me. Really darlin’, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Did you just call me darlin’?”

“Yeah, I suppose I did,” I say, not really sure what else to say. “Would you like to try my latest creation?”

“All right, I'll try it,” he says, strolling over to the stovetop. "In fact, I'd love to try it!"

“Okay, you don't have to pretend anymore. Just wait and see."

I push past him, quickly adding some paprika and a splash of Tabasco. After stirring, I taste it and smile with recognition. Ah, Delilah would be proud. Elliott reaches for a spoon and with little hesitation tastes it.

“So, what do you call this dish? It’s fantastic!” he exclaims with his mouth still full.

“Shrimp etouffee,” I say, wearing a grin.

I sigh, trying to remember what I’m supposed to do next. Since my strange hallucination, time for me is completely skewed. Before leaving my house this morning, I had to look at the calendar just to remind myself today is Tuesday.

I feel as if I have lived an entire lifetime in the small town of Lewisburg, West Virginia. Delilah’s thoughts and feelings have been indelibly imprinted upon me. How is it possible for my mind to have fabricated such an intricately woven story? If I’ve never been to West Virginia, then why do I suddenly feel homesick for it?

Last night, I shared with Elliott a small portion about my recent visit with Delilah. Ever since, I’ve had difficulty convincing him I am all right. He is continually checking in with me about my mental health, asking me questions like, ‘How are you feeling now, dear?’ Maybe I shouldn’t have told him about Delilah. Honestly, he needs to back off a little. He is starting to get on my nerves.

I have just dropped my kids off at school, when my phone sings,
Don’t Worry Be Happy
. The tune indicates Elliott is calling. As a joke, he programmed the melody into my phone, and every time he calls, I can’t help but look up and shake my head.

“Good morning,” I sing into the phone.

“Good morning. What are yooouuu doing?” Sometimes Elliott inflects his voice in this way.

“I’m heading toward the craft store; I need to pick up some things for Hailey’s bridal shower.”

“What does the bride-to-be have on the agenda for you today?”

“Actually, my phone has been eerily quiet. I’m just waiting for it to ring so I can hear Bridezilla’s next request.”

“Did you just call your little sister Bridezilla?” he says with a chuckle.

“Believe me, over the past few months, she has more than earned that title.”

“I can’t say I disagree. She makes you do
everything
for her,” he pauses, “Speaking of which, we should have her and Derek over Friday night. We need to have a Pictionary rematch.”

“Honey, you need to give it up. You guys will never beat us girls. Besides, have you forgotten about the couple’s shower we’re throwing this Friday night?”

“Oh…that’s right. I guess I need to pass out those invitations you gave me.”

“You still haven’t passed out the invitations? Please, please do not forget to do that today, and make sure all of your and Derek’s work buddies mark the date on their calendars. It’s only a few days away.”

“Sounds exciting—I can’t wait.”

“Why does that comment reek of sarcasm? You know, it is going to be fun. It’ll be more of a party than a shower. Just wait until you see all of the decorations I’m about to buy.”

“Don’t go too crazy with the fluffy stuff.”

“Honey, I don’t do fluffy. Besides, I need to be able to do fun things like this every once in a while.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Does this have anything to do with your little ‘Delilah’ episode last night?”

“First of all, it wasn’t an episode. Actually, it was fun. And you know, it would be nice if we had a little fun of our own—get away for an evening, enjoy a quiet dinner by candlelight, with violins harmonizing in the background,” I sigh, luxuriating in the imagery I’ve just conjured.

“Then, that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he says. “I can’t do it tonight, but I am f
ree for lunch. Would you care to join me?”

“Of course, I’d love to go for lunch.”

“Great, meet me at Silver Spoon Café in about two hours?”

“Sure, see you then,” I say, “Bye, love ya.”