Solace In Switzerland

by Tiffany Foxe

  Solace in Switzerland

  By Tiffany Foxe

  Alice sat at her cozy computer desk, typing as she did every morning from home. She sipped her piping hot coffee as she took a moment to think of her next line. A brunette woman wearing business attire and a blue peacoat rushed into her office, purse in tow, and briskly pecked her partner on the cheek.

  “I’ve got to go,” said Sarah. “I’m late.”

  Alice glanced at the clock on her computer: 6:39am. Sarah hurried out of the room and headed toward the door. Alice followed suit. Sarah opened the front door of their home and turned toward her partner and kissed her ado.

  “Bye,” said Sarah.

  “Have a good day. Love you,” said Alice.

  “You, too.”

  Alice watched as Sarah, scurried through the rain, hopped in her car and left the driveway. Alice returned to her office, flopped down in her chair, and continued typing. She always tried to get most of her writing done before her partner got home from work so they could spend time together in the evenings. She plowed through her manuscript, putting out pages without hesitation. Writing came easily to her. She could pump out new material with the speed of a fighter jet, and had produced a steady stream of romance novels since her and Sarah had met.

  About an hour passed when Alice heard the phone ring. She stopped typing and got up to answer it.

  “Is this Alice Shepherd?”

  “Yes, it is,” she said to the stranger.

  She listened to the caller introduce herself and explain the situation.

  “There’s been an accident.”

  Her eyes grew wide.

  “I’m sorry,” said the woman.

  Alice’s jaw dropped. The woman continued speaking, but Alice didn’t hear any of it. She dropped the phone, grabbed her keys and scuttled out the door. She arrived at the hospital and asked an employee to point her in the right direction. She entered the emergency department and conversed with a staff member about the phone call. The woman pointed her toward the ED doctor.

  “Are you Alice Shepherd?”

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  She could barely get the word out. A lump in her throat, restricted her voice and breath.

  “Sarah listed you as her emergency contact. You’re her significant other. Is that right?”

  Alice nodded. Her eyes filled with tears. She strained to hold them in. The lump in her throat grew bigger.

  “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. Sarah was in a car accident. Another car ran a traffic light...we did all we could do.”

  Alice gasped. Her breath grew erratic. The ground swayed beneath her as she stumbled backward. The doctor placed his hand on her shoulder. Alice looked him in the eye with disbelief.

  “She didn’t make it,” he said solemnly.

  She dropped to the floor as his words faded into the background. In a moment, everything had changed.

  ***

  Alice sat in a daze on the couch as friends and family adorned in black mingled in the living and dining quarters of her house. She stared at an empty spot on the wall before her as murmured conversations enveloped her. She listened in complete disbelief.

  They had been together for seven years. From scratch, they had built their life together, working and saving for everything they had. She glanced around the living room of their house. They had bought it together as a fixer-upper and worked on it for years, fixing cracks in the walls, painting, updating the flooring and appliances. It had only been in its current, finished condition for a few months. Even with a room full of people, it felt so empty, now.

  She looked at the front door to her left. It was the last place she had seen Sarah. It was just another ordinary day, or so she thought when she saw her head off to work. How could she have been so blindsided? Surely with something so life-altering there should be an ominous feeling of foreboding, something that prepares you for what’s coming. Her eyes welled with tears. She wished she had said so much more in those last moments, more than just, “Have a good day.” But, now she knew she would never be able to say anything, to tell her how much she loved her, appreciated her, admired and adored her. Her partner, her best friend, her favorite person in the whole world was gone...forever. She felt so hollow.

  The service ended. Family and friends left. Alice spent the rest of the week getting Sarah’s finances in order. She finally found time to go through Sarah’s things the next week. She opened a box she found on the top shelf of Sarah’s closet. It was filled with pictures. She plopped down on the bed and flipped through them. They were mostly of Sarah, but also had pictures of them together, smiling, laughing, hugging, kissing. Alice’s heart ached. She closed the box and headed for the kitchen. She pulled a bottle of liquor out of the freezer and poured a shot.

  Weeks went by, then, months. Daily, she sat in front of her computer, a blank page glaring back at her. She tried to think of things to write. Stories, characters, plots. Nothing surfaced. The thought of writing about love and romance made her stomach churn with sorrow. She didn’t want to think about love. It only reminded her of Sarah, the absence of whom made her inconsolably miserable. Everything was a reminder of her: the house, its contents, their bed. Pictures hung on the wall, asserting that past experiences would never be relived. Her toothbrush still sat in its holder, even though its days of use were long gone. Her clothes still hung in the closet, clean and ready for wear. She refused to change Sarah’s pillowcase because she didn’t want to forget the scent of her hair. Nothing in their house had changed, nothing except the number of occupants. She couldn’t let go. She couldn’t move forward. She didn’t want to. Doing so made it real. It made it final. She knew she had lost her soulmate, but she also knew she hadn’t lost her completely. Parts of her still lingered in their home. She preferred clinging to those little pieces of her, existing in a state of quasi-reality where her lover wasn’t completely lost.

  Living with those constant reminders took its toll. The only thing that brought her solace was the bottle, which she had taken to with enthusiasm. She drank morning and night. The time didn’t matter, nor the occasion. In her mind, it was the bottle, or wallow in heartache. She chose the bottle.

  Unfortunately, she had bills to pay and writing was what paid them. Her predicament involved the genre she had built a name on. It was where she had gained an audience, and it was what that audience expected: a fiery romance with a happy ending. It was also the one thing she didn’t want to write about. She just didn’t have it in her, anymore. Her days of romance were long gone. Sorrow and despair were now the tenants of her existence.

  In spite of it all, she still tried to write. Countless days went by in much the same fashion, staring vacantly at a computer screen. Then, she’d get up and grab the open bottle of liquor that sat on her desk, take a swig and climb into bed.

  One morning she awoke to her cell phone ringing. She grasped for the phone in a half-awake stupor.

  “Hello.”

  “Alice?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I still haven’t received your manuscript.”

  “I know, I know,” she interrupted.

  “Hell, I don’t even have a synopsis,” said her editor.

  Alice rolled her eyes.

  “Look. I know it’s been hard you for since…” he hesitated. “...but I can’t give you another advance without anything to show for it,” he finished.

  Alice sat up in bed. She grabbed the bottle of vodka that stood on her nightstand and took a swig.

  “Stan. I’m working on it. Just give me some time.”

  “It’s been a year. If I don’t get something really soon, that’s it.”

  Alice sighed.

  “How about I write about som
ething different. A murder mystery, zombie apocalypse, gory hack and slash...,” she proposed.

  “You write romance novels. Your audience expects romance novels. We expect romance novels.”

  “Stan...I just...I don’t think I can anymore.”

  He paused.

  “Maybe...maybe you just need a change. You’ve given it time. Why don’t you get out and travel? Maybe, a change of scenery will get those creative juices flowing.”

  “Please, don’t ever use the word “juices” in a sentence, again.”

  She got up out of bed and headed downstairs for the coffeemaker.

  “When’s the last time you left the house?”

  “A couple days ago. Why?”

  “For something other than necessities? When’s the last time you went out and had fun?”

  She put a filter and coffee into the coffee maker.

  “A couple days ago. I didn’t need alcohol, but I got some. Fun in a bottle, Stan.”

  He sighed.

  “Listen. I have a vacation house out of the country. Why don’t you go and stay there for awhile? Maybe, it’ll clear your head.”

  She poured water into the coffeemaker and pushed start.

  “Stan, I don’t know.”

  “If I don’t have a rough draft by then, your contract is through. There’s nothing I can do.”

  Alice looked down at the pile of bills she left sitting on the counter. She sighed.

  ***

  Alice arrived at the airport and went up to the ticket counter.

  “I’m here to check in,” she said.

  “I.D.?”

  She pulled out her driver’s license and handed it to the clerk.

  The woman typed on her keyboard, then handed Alice her ticket.

  “Here you go. Enjoy your trip,” she said.

  Alice read the ticket destination: Sweden. She crossed her brow. It wasn't quite what she had in mind, but she didn't have much of a choice. She proceeded through security, then stopped at a bar to have a couple of drinks. The flight had one layover in New York. She made sure to make good use of it, finding a watering hole to wet her whistle with vodka and tonic before the next flight. The airline did serve drinks, but it had a limit of two.

  The flight took up her entire day. By the time she arrived in Stockholm she was exhausted, and she still had to find a cab to take her out of town to Stan's place.

  ***

  A taxi drove over a rickety little bridge and pulled up to a cottage on the outskirts of town. Alice got out and stood in front of Stan’s vacation house. She looked it over; a small, rustic cottage with wooden, reddish brown siding. She went inside and set down her bags. She surveyed her new living arrangement. It was comprised of one open room with a small kitchenette, a bed and a small dining table. The kitchen lay to the right of the doorway, and an island divided it from the rest of the room. A bed lay against the wall to the left and a small dining table sat just beyond it in front of a wall made of pure glass, part of which was a glass door. She walked over and opened the glass door. It stepped out onto a porch. She stepped out to find it overlooked a serene lake. It was breathtaking, but chilly. She stepped back inside.

  The flight from Portland had been long and she desperately yearned for a cool pillow to kiss her cheek. She figured she'd give her mother a call to let her know she made it in okay.

  "Any pretty ladies over there?"

  "Mom," Alice scolded.

  “I’m here for work. I don’t care about the “ladies”.”

  "What? Maybe, you could find some romance while you're over there."

  "I don't want romance. I want to pay my bills."

  "You can't stay frigid, forever."

  Alice was appalled.

  "I'm not frigid,” she replied, offended by her mother’s choice of words. “I’m just...not interested."

  "Honey, you’re thirty-one. There’s room in your life for someone else."

  "Can we please not talk about this?"

  "The heart will go on."

  "Mom, stop quoting Celine Dion."

  "I'm just saying love finds a way."

  Alice sighed.

  “What are you a Hallmark card?”

  “Yeah…”You can’t stay frigid, forever” is a top seller.”

  Alice smiled.

  “I’ve got to go, Mom. I’m exhausted.”

  “Okay. Try to have some fun while you’re there. I’ve never been out of the country. I want pictures,” she demanded.

  “Of course. All mothers must live vicariously through their children,” Alice joked.

  Alice hung up the phone, then turned it off. She found the bathroom, washed her face, poured a glass of water and crashed onto the bed. She was out in seconds.

  Alice awoke the next day to the sound of the wind whirling in the distance. She forced herself to crawl out of bed and fixed a cup of coffee. She found a loaf of bread in the freezer and set it out to defrost. She threw on her coat and shoes and walked out onto the porch. The air was crisp and windy. She brought her laptop out with her and turned it on. She gazed vacantly at the blank screen as she drank her coffee. Once again, words failed her. She finished her morning caffeine jolt and looked out beyond the porch around her. The wind rustled through the trees. She decided the cold was too much of a distraction and went in and settled at the dining table. She stared at the screen, again. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes to hours. She got up and found that the bread had defrosted enough to make some toast. She sat back down in front of her computer and ate two slices of dry toast and drank more coffee. The cursor blinked on a blank page. She got up and walked to the glass wall that looked out onto the lake.

  She went into the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets, moving dishes and glasses from side to side. She checked the drawers, but found only utensils. She dug through the freezer and fridge, unsuccessfully. She slammed the freezer door, frustrated. She put on a pair of dark blue jeans and a navy blue blouse, grabbed her coat and trudged out the front door.

  Alice walked down the road and over the old little wooden bridge that led into town. It was about a quarter mile hike. She found a little store not far into town and wandered in. She figured she’d get a few groceries and some liquor for the house. She was dismayed to learn that Sweden only sells liquor at places called Systembolaget, a government run liquor store, and it was already closed for the day. She decided to pick up groceries later and walked down the street to a little business on the corner. She stood and looked up at the sign covered in lights.

  ***

  Elsa sat at a table in a bar with her friend. Best friends for years, they began to drift apart when when Linn got married six months prior. It had nothing to do with their friendship, namely lifestyle changes that prevented them from spending time together. Linn now spent most of her free time with her husband while Elsa still held fast to the bachelor and party lifestyle. It had been a month since they last got together, and were heartily enjoying their beers while catching up on conversation.

  “When are you gonna settle down?” asked Linn.

  Elsa shook her head and smiled, her blue eyes fixated on a brunette woman entering the bar.

  “Never,” she said with a smirk.

  She still had her eye on the brunette who was now at the counter ordering a drink. Linn rolled her eyes.

  “Oh come on,” Linn said in disbelief. “You can’t really mean that. You can’t seriously want to have one night stands for the rest of your life. Don’t you want to find that one special person to grow old with? Someone with whom you wake up to every morning, excited to spend the day with. Who you hate spending time apart, and can’t wait ‘til you see each other, again.”

  Elsa rolled her eyes and turned her attention toward Linn.

  “No,” she said. “Absolutely not.”

  Linn raised her brow in surprise.

  “That isn’t real. Relationships are great in the beginning, but in time, all of that magic fades. The honeymoon phase ends, yea
rs go by, you both change...and you’re left with this person who is nothing like they were when you met them, and at most, you tolerate each other because it’s easier than starting over.”

  Linn scrunched her brow and took a sip of her beer.

  “Man, you’re dark. Just because you’re parents split after 10 years doesn’t mean they’re all like that.”

  “It’s true. Name one couple that’s made it past 7 years that would still be together if they weren’t already married.”

  “Well.” Linn thought a moment, then gasped. “Jon and Maria!”

  Elsa shook her head.

  “If it weren’t for the kids, she would have left him years ago.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Elsa shrugged.

  “Okay…Tom and Anna.”

  “He’s staying out of guilt. He doesn’t want to hurt her.”

  “Krister and Elin.”

  “She can’t afford it on her own.”

  Linn stared vacantly into the bar.

  “Well, they can’t all be like that,” Linn resolved.

  “Money or convenience,” she said as she shook her head.

  “That’s the only reason they stay.”

  “Well, I guess I’m still in the honeymoon phase because I can’t wait to get home to see Paul,” said Linn as she stood up. “I’ll call you next week.”

  Elsa nodded as they said their goodbyes.

  ***

  Alice walked into the bar on the corner and ordered a vodka tonic. She went to pay only to find that her card was declined. Apparently, the bank assumed her card was stolen since it was an out-of-country transaction. She apologized to the bartender and asked him to try another card to the same effect. She apologized, again and tried to resolve the issue over the phone with her bank, but was unable to reach anyone. Going on their website proved fruitless, as well. She was able to notify her bank that the transaction was valid, but she wouldn’t be able to use her card until the next business day. This left her in a pickle. No money and no booze. She looked around and thought for a moment. She noticed a blonde woman setting up a game of pool. She turned toward the bartender and said a few words. He placed her drink aside and went on to help another customer.