Indulgence (214 page)

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Authors: Liz Crowe

BOOK: Indulgence
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My dream picked up where it had last left off. I am in the
middle of paradise smelling flowers, enjoying the songbirds and observing the
animals going about their business until a new sound grabs my attention. The
distant yet delightful bubbling sound beckons me, so I walk in its direction,
relishing the sensation of smooth earth beneath my bare feet. A winding path
directs me around immense trees, under hanging vines and up a hill. When I
reach the top, I am rewarded by my efforts: the river flows below me, clear and
aquamarine, the sun sparkling off its surface.

I scramble down the hill and thrust my hands into the water.
My hands serve as a cup ushering the cool liquid to my lips; it tastes as sweet
as the air smells. I drop my hands to my chest to let the remainder of the
water glide down my body. I stare beyond the glass-like surface and witness
fish swishing effortlessly downstream following the river’s course through the
grassy countryside. The scene is perfectly framed by small hills and the river
eventually spills over into a waterfall. The sky is clear and the brilliant
orange sun floats in the distance, its rays striking out into the blue heavens.

A sense of calm sweeps over me, like the feeling you get
after the first few sips of wine. This is paradise and I never want to leave.
And I can tell this place doesn’t want me to leave either. I belong here.

I glance around, taking in the breathtaking perfection. My
eyes are drawn to a spot off in the distance. A vibrant radiating energy throws
off shards of color - reds, yellows, purples - at a frantic pace. The energy’s
ferocity is too busy for this utopia. I look away, then back. It’s still there.
I can’t imagine what this restless annoyance could be.

I stand and follow the river’s path, looking for a
passageway. As I walk, I become blinded by light. I throw my arm up to cover my
eyes, and in doing so my arm crashes against the cold metal frame of the
hammock I had fallen asleep on. I groaned at the realization that my dream was
over and the sun, making a rare appearance, was waking me from my slumber.

I dreamily looked around, re-acclimating myself with my
surroundings. I was on the hammock, my cup of now cold tea on the ground. The
morning air touched my bare legs through the hammock’s underside, but
thankfully a blanket covered me. My fiery body temperature had disappeared,
replaced by shivering coldness.

Matt walked out of the sliding door, a cup of coffee in
hand. “Hey, you awake, sweetie?” he whispered in my direction as he closed the
door.

“Yeah, why am I out here?” I choked out in my morning voice.

“Ha, um, I don’t know why you’re out here, Ali. I woke up
and you weren’t in bed so I came downstairs and noticed the door was open and
saw you on the hammock. Rather than wake you, I threw a blanket over you. I
hope you aren’t upset; I know you have been having problems sleeping. You
looked so peaceful; I hoped you were getting some rest.”

Matt waited apprehensively for my reaction. He probably
expected me to snap at him or yell that he should have woken me and taken me
inside. But what Matt didn’t know was that I dreamt of my paradise and was now
reveling in the benefits. I was calm and happy, and for the moment at least, my
mood had snapped back to normal.

“Thank you for the blanket,” I said, choking on my words. My
throat felt like sandpaper.

Matt’s visage brightened. He must have realized I was in a
good mood. “Let me get you some fresh tea,” he said, and rushed back into the
house.

I wiggled myself off of the hammock and wrapped the blanket
around me. The thermometer read 74 degrees and I wondered again how anyone
could be so cold in this temperature.

Despite my feeling chilled, the sun was shining and the sky
was dotted with only a light sprinkling of clouds. It looked like it was going
to be a nice day after all. I stretched my neck from side to side, releasing it
from the confines of my cocoon-like blanket. The sun scorched the skin on my
face and neck. Matt always said I needed to sit in the sun more, to add some
color to my fair skin. I preferred to listen to my dermatologist and avoided
the sun as much as possible.

Matt returned to the patio with a tall cup of steaming
liquid and a lemon perched on the side. “Thank you,” I croaked, and took a sip.

“I added honey, for your throat. I hope you aren’t getting a
cold, that would really suck.”

“No kidding. I think I’ll be okay though. I’m sure my
scratchy throat is from my brilliant decision to fall asleep outside.”

“Well I sure hope you’re feeling better. Jordana’s birthday
party is tonight.”

I wasn’t looking forward to this party. Jordana wasn’t an
immediate relative; she was Matt’s brother-in-law’s niece and she was turning
sixteen. I knew the party was going to be over the top and packed with people –
that’s how Leslie and Shawn, Jordana’s parents, did everything. I wasn’t in the
mood to socialize. But I didn’t know what I’d rather be doing. I supposed if my
mood was cooperating, I might as well make the best of it.

“I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to the party,” I lied.

 

*****

 

I gave up trying to style my hair. It wasn’t cooperating and
no amount of gel, wax or hairspray was going to change that. I threw the pick
in the sink and walked to the window. The sun had given way to another gray day
just like my contentment was slowly relinquishing to sourness. This constant
battle with my mood was getting old, and I was tired of feeling like I had no
control over my emotions. I wanted my good mood to last for at least this
evening so Matt and I could enjoy the party, but it looked like it was going to
be short-lived.

“Ali,” Matt called from downstairs. “Are you almost ready?
We need to hit the road.”

I looked at my watch. It was five o’clock and we needed to
start our hour-long journey into Ohio’s countryside for the event of the
summer. I sprayed my hair one last time, gave myself a once over in the mirror
and plastered a fake smile on my face.
Here goes nothing
, I thought.

“You look very pretty,” Matt stated as I walked into the
kitchen.

He couldn’t be serious. My hair was a disaster and I was
dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. “Thank you.” I forced a grimace.

Matt opened the car door and I hopped into the passenger
seat of the Jeep. There was no need for a discussion about who was driving.
Matt knew he would be chauffeuring since I refused to drive on country roads.
Growing up in the city, I was accustomed to driving 35 or 45 miles per hour on
four lane roads equipped with stop lights and street signs. I wasn’t
comfortable driving 65 miles per hour on tiny two lane country roads with an
occasional stop sign to halt cross street traffic.

Matt backed out of the garage and into the dreary elements.
Large rain clouds loomed overhead, ready to burst at any moment. I was trying
to be upbeat, but I really didn’t want to attend this party and be forced to
put on a happy face and tell everyone that everything was fine. I couldn’t
contain my unhappiness anymore.

“Who does this?” I asked sourly as I flipped the radio to a
rock station. My mellow mood was slipping away fast.

“Who does what?”

“This is a bit much, don’t you think?” I shoved the
invitation closer to Matt so he could have a better look. “I mean, this invite
is nicer than our wedding invitations were.”

The announcement was crafted on heavy white cardstock and
scripted in navy ink broadcasting Jordana’s sixteenth birthday party. A beach
print served as the backdrop indicating some type of tropical luau theme. The
invitation was professionally printed and quite extravagant for a teenager’s
birthday party.

“Come on, Allison,” Matt glared at me. “It’s a party; we’re
supposed to have fun. I was really hoping your good mood would stick around for
one night. Can you at least try to have some fun?” Matt grabbed my hand and I
met his eyes briefly before he returned his to the road. “Besides, Melissa will
be there and I know you love hanging out with my sister.”

“Fine,” I said. I did love hanging out with Melissa and her
husband David. Both had bubbly personalities and were full of life. Plus,
Melissa always had a good story or two to share about her hair salon customers.
Spending time with her tonight could be a good thing if some of her enthusiasm
rubbed off on me, or it could be an utter disaster if I couldn’t control my
gloominess. I hoped for the former, but knew the latter was going to win out.
My aura was getting heavier, a sign I must not have spent much time dreaming
about my tropical paradise. It seemed the longer I dreamt about that place, the
longer my contentment lasted.

We drove most of the way in silence. I watched small
farmhouses and large farms pass us by, and the fields filled with corn stalks
ready for harvest served as a reminder that winter was just around the corner.
I counted cows in the pastures to pass time and I tried to ignore all of the
roadside memorials marking where someone had lost a life in a car wreck on
these treacherous roads. Some of the displays were placed at intersections,
others on the berm; some were quite elaborate with pictures and flowers, others
were as simple as a cross with the victim’s name and date of his or her demise.
I cringed every time we went through an intersection where we had the right of
way but the cross street traffic had to stop. I feared someone would barrel
through the stop sign resulting in my own personal roadside memorial.

We drove another mile or two when Matt finally announced,
“And here we are.”

We turned off the road onto a winding concrete driveway that
curved its way past an expertly manicured lawn and led to a mammoth, two-story
house. Seeing the house, I knew the invitation wasn’t out of place at all.
Leslie and Shawn were highly successful owners of a landscaping business, and
their clients included some of Ohio’s most elite families as well as some
lucrative local government contracts.

Matt parked the Jeep in the reserved parking area in the
front yard.

“What, no valet?” I asked sarcastically. Matt ignored me.

I climbed out of the car and examined the weather. It was
humid and looked like it was going to storm but I, of course, felt chilled. I
grabbed my jacket knowing I would need it sooner rather than later.

Matt eyed me. “Really, Allison? A jacket? Everyone here is
in shorts, and you’re dressed like you’re ready for winter.”

“Hey, I’m wearing flip flops,” I responded sourly, sticking
a foot out for his observation. I couldn’t imagine why he would care what I was
wearing. He should want me to be warm and somewhat happy versus cold and
cranky.

“Whatever,” Matt replied.

He grabbed my hand and led me around the side of the house,
through a wrought iron gate to the pool area. I whistled a snarky tune as I
inspected the scene.

Just like the fountain out front, the pool was full of
flowers, but these were accompanied by floating candles. Twinkling lights and
paper lanterns zigzagged through the air casting a warm glow against the dark
sky. Cabanas draped in white flowing gauze provided seating. We were ushered to
the back gate where we were given fresh Hawaiian leis.

“This had to cost a good buck,” I said, as I toyed with the
fragrant necklace.

“Be nice,” Matt responded. “Jordana is their only child; you
knew they were going to spoil her on this occasion.”

The backyard stretched out around us. Candlelit bags
anchored with sand directed us to an enormous party tent.

“I’m sure they needed a tent, like they couldn’t fit this
shindig in their house,” I hissed.

“Allison Carmichael, would you please knock off the
attitude?” Matt pleaded.

He was right. I needed to knock off the attitude but I
didn’t know how. This crabbiness emanated from my core and there was nothing I
could do to stop it.

We walked inside the tent, which was decorated with the same
lights and lanterns that swung over the pool. Tables covered in orange silk and
crowned with tropical floral and fruit centerpieces outlined the perimeter of
the dance floor. A glittery disco ball hung above. The air smelled vaguely
familiar and pleasant but was also overwhelming.

“Do you smell that?” I asked, as I leaned into Matt so he
could hear me over the deejay.

“Smell what?”

“All of the flowers. It smells like a damn flower shop in
here.”

Matt shot me a look. I sensed he was about through with my
attitude so I decided to be quiet.

We continued to make our way through the tent. The far wall
housed a shrine to the birthday girl. Photos from the time she was born to the
present day were displayed in frames and on poster board. Trophies and ribbons
showcasing her athletic triumphs and academic achievements were scattered
across a table. I mulled over the pictures…cheerleading, homecoming, bonfires
and football games. It took me back, reminding me how full of hope and promise
I once was at her age. Bitterness swelled inside me. “She better enjoy it now,
because she’ll be disappointed ten years down the road when life doesn’t pan
out the way she expects it to.”

“Calm down, Ali,” Matt scolded. “Here comes Jordana.”

Jordana skipped over to us. She looked vibrant in a yellow
and white sundress, gold bangles and wedge sandals. Just looking at her outfit
made me feel cold. Her long brown hair, highlighted with golden tones, swung
just beneath her tanned shoulders.

“Hi guys,” Jordana gushed as she hugged me. “I’m so happy
you could make it!”

I forced another fake smile. “Happy birthday, Jordana.
Thanks for inviting us. We’re so happy to be here.”

Jordana hugged Matt and pecked him on the cheek. “Mom and
dad are over there talking with guests.” She pointed towards the front of the
tent, clear on the other side from where we were standing. “I gotta greet more
guests. Please, grab something to eat and drink and have fun!”

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