Insipid

by Christine Brae

  INSIPID

  Copyright © 2014 Christine Brae

  Cover Design by Lindsay Sparkes

  Editing by Erin Roth

  www.facebook.com/erinrotheditor

  Interior design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

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  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  **This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.**

  PROLOGUE

  PART I: FALLING

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  PART II: BREAKING

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  PART III: COLLIDING

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I will never forget this time, that place

  Your touch, your face.

  The way my heart felt so brand new

  You lit up my life in so many ways.

  I will always remember You.

  TODAY MARKS THE third anniversary of the day I died. The setting sun skates across the water surrounded by the orange sky streaked with alternating layers of blue and white and yellow. The water is still and calm with only tiny rolls of waves washing upon the shore. If I looked far enough, I can see her standing at the end of the universe. I can feel her presence close by. I can hear her sweet singing voice next to me. How many times have I imagined what it would be like if I saw her again? Soon, now. Soon.

  I walk sideways along the shore where the water meets the sand, farther and farther from any sign of life. Away from judgment, from condemnation. From things that remind me of the mess I’ve made. My hands are full, my steps are heavy. But my heart… it’s open. It’s free. I’ve done what I could to apologize for all the hurt I’ve caused them. I’ve said the words to tell him just how much I love him. Without me, I know they will all be forced to move on.

  I stop in the middle of nowhere, ready to finish what I came here to do. In my left hand is one single flower. A calla lily. Simple and understated, but meaningful. In my right hand is a little box with breathing holes and a chirping sound emanating from it.

  Let me sit down for a while, I say to myself. Collect my thoughts. Remember why I’m here.

  I sit for what feels like hours, but in the scheme of things, I know that it’s only for a minute. Slowly, I open the box with the bird in it. The swallow, so tiny, but whose wings are strong and powerful, cowers along the edge of the box, shaking and afraid. I take a deep breath and touch its head with my little finger. Is that what a feather feels like? I’m shaking. I’m sick. I don’t think I can do it. How can something so small scare me so much? How can something as docile, as insignificant as a bird, cause me to change my path every time I come across it? Another deep breath as I lift it gently, my fingers lightly enclosing it before I place it on the palm of my hand. Its scraggy little feet feel like pin pricks on my skin.

  There. That wasn’t so bad now, was it?

  I laugh out loud as I raise my arm up in the air, tossing the bird up high, watching it fly far away from me. Ha! Take that!

  The tide creeps up. The tiny box washes away as I stand up to complete my journey.

  The water is dark. My feet feel cold. With the flower clasped in my hand, I move forward. Slowly, surely. I step upon the sand until I can no longer see my feet.

  I flinch and jump up in surprise. Something rubs against my legs. Seaweed wraps around my toes. I close my eyes and keep moving. My last fear. Fear of the bottomless unknown that is part of every life. This will be over soon.

  Beyond my comfort zone and into the ocean I go. Deeper and deeper until the tide pushes me forward and my feet can no longer anchor themselves on the sand.

  I close my eyes and pray. I pray for forgiveness, but most of all I pray for those who will be left behind.

  As the tide carries me further away, I delight in the numbness that the cold brings to my skin. The muffled sound of the water in my ear. The overwhelming, heartfelt feeling of closure.

  Floating, floating, floating away filled with so much peace.

  “Not knowing how to think

  I scream aloud, begin to sink

  My legs and arms are broken down

  With envy for the solid ground

  I’m reaching for the life within me

  How can one man stop his ending

  I thought of just your face

  Relaxed, and floated into space”

  “Into the Ocean” by Blue October

  WHAT DO THE seasons mean to you? To some people, they are a part of every waking day, times of the year that are taken for granted. To others, like myself, they make up the chapters of one’s story. I’ve always been one to mark my memories by the passing of the seasons. Somehow, the look of the clouds, the skies, the temperatures, the way the rains fall, the colors of the grass—in my head, I’ve managed to align them with the major events in my life.

  I found love in the summer and then lost it in the spring. I cried myself to sleep in the winter and froze my heart with the soft tumble of the snow.

  They say that youth is wasted on the young. But the truth is that life doesn’t come at you just because you’re young and inexperienced.

  Life happens at every moment.

  It doesn’t wait, it doesn’t hold back. It charges at you, builds you up, allows you to soar to the highest of heights and gives you a taste of the beauty of living. The trick to all this is knowing not to sit back, that complacency is the enemy lurking in every corner.

  One day, it will return with a vengeance to break you. It will render yo
u lifeless, alone, and out of control. It will plunge you into the deepest, darkest recesses of the soul and it will cover you in darkness. You will be lost and alone. Everything you have ever believed in will disappear in an instant.

  Like every wintry day when the sun fails to shine and the cold chills you to the bone, when the biting wind eats at you and no amount of shelter can save you from the frigid emptiness, you will lose hope. You will choose to stay inside, clamoring for every bit of warmth to survive. But as the days get longer and the nights fade faster, you will lift up your head, and one day catch the sun peeking through the clouds.

  With every ounce of desperation, it will fight its way through the murkiness and one day rise up, never to be beaten down again. With every spring comes new life, a blossoming of death into an understanding, a calmness, a peace. You will smile again, you will hear yourself laugh, you will shed the weight of the clothes on your back. All this in time to welcome that glorious, inevitable summer.

  Without the cold, the piercing pain, and the loss, there can never be joy. We need the winter to truly enjoy the gift of the summer so that by the time the autumn comes upon us, we are ready. We are prepared. We transition into sadness once again, knowing that these days are limited. That there is hope within the seasons. That change is imminent and that happiness is only a few crazy moments away.

  When I was nineteen, I had my whole life’s plan ahead of me.

  And now, at forty-two, I don’t know who I am.

  My name is Jade and this is my journey. Welcome to the seasons of my life.

  “GOOD MORNING, JADE,” Noelle, my secretary greets me, a little too cheerily for a Monday morning.

  “Hey, Noey. Let me drop my things off and stop back to look at today’s schedule.” I slow my gait down briefly to make eye contact with her before reaching into my purse for my keys and shuffling on towards my office. I feel a sense of relief as I open the door and shut myself in.

  These are my gates, this is my fortress. The one right thing I have accomplished in my life.

  This is the day I have been dreaming of since I knew that I wanted to submerge myself in a career dominated mostly by male players. And yet, a profound sadness fills my heart as I make my way to my desk and lay my purse on the table. I remove my coat and scarf and hang them on the back of my door, looking around at the wide expanse of the space as I return to my desk to take a seat. My Executive office has wall to wall windows, a rectangular glass desk dwarfed by the openness of the room, a conference table facing a large presentation screen, and a small glass lamp stand. The size of the room as well as the all glass décor make it cold and empty. There are no pictures; the ones in my old office were removed almost two years ago. The walls are painted white. Blemish free, stain free, lifeless white. The holes in the walls that held pictures from a former executive have been cleaned up and filled in. It is a brand new office, meant solely to remind me of my brand new life. I move around the room with a cadence that feels so routine, so mechanical. I sit at my desk, remove my boots, put on my high heels, retrieve the portable mirror, brush out my hair and touch up my eyes. Someone used to call them his emerald eyes. His lush, verdant pasture. His respite. To me, they’re just two more things to worry about in an aging face.

  I lift myself out of this trance as soon as I notice Noelle standing timidly outside my door through the opaque glass interspersed through the solid walls.

  “Hi, come on in.” I open my door and slip into one of the seats at the conference table. I motion for her to come closer and point at the chair next to me. “What do we have going on today?”

  “First things first,” she says proudly, “I had them clear all the flowers and plants that were delivered outside of your office this morning.”

  “Where’d they all end up?”

  “We redistributed them around the floor. Some of them were placed in the lobby. All the cards are on your desk.”

  “Thank you. I know it’s a weird quirk of mine, but—”

  “Totally understand. Your allergies. No need to explain.” It’s what Noelle does best—pretending to make sense of what’s come over me. “Well, today’s the day after all,” she starts out, “the press release will be out at 9:00 am and the Executive Team would like to do a champagne toast right after it goes live. Warren wants you in his office at 9:30 where you will be answering questions from a handful of reporters. Your name and bio will be shown on all thirty television screens across the floors.”

  “Ugh. Seriously?” I groan, still queasy about all this publicity behind my promotion.

  “You deserve this, Jade. Revel in it. The first woman Executive Vice President on the Board of Directors. It’s an honor for me to be working for you,” she argues, choked up with emotion.

  “Thank you, but I’ve been acting in that capacity for quite some time now. Nothing is going to change. I’m still the same person that started here ten years ago. And the only reason I accepted this new role is because Warren wouldn’t stop hounding me about it. And of course, now that I can devote my time to this, I think it will be good for me as well.” I refuse to let my mind wander towards the thoughts that would remind me of my life’s trade off. Bad for good. Nothing for something. Heart for soul. I panic when it dawns on me that the press will be here any minute. “Do you think I need to call my stylist to make sure I look all right?”

  “Oh my God, no! Look at yourself. You’re so well put together, as always. You look great today, no need to worry about that. It’s gonna be a cinch. Think of all the other magazine photo shoots you’ve done in the past few years,” she maintains consolingly. “This will be a breeze.”

  “You are always so kind to me.” I reach out to touch her hand. “Tell me what’s next.”

  “Well, your dad called too. He wants you to call him back as soon as you can. You then have an 11:30 lunch appointment with representatives of MT Media Group.”

  “Who are they?” Somehow, this name doesn’t ring a bell.

  “They’re the media company that we’re going to be representing as they go through their merger with Global Technologies. They’re tentatively scheduled to be in town for two weeks to review the merger plan with you.”

  “Okay. Is that it?”

  “That’s basically it for now. You’re back in those system implementation sessions for the rest of the week.”

  “Story of my life.” I chuckle.

  As soon as Noelle steps out, I walk towards the far corner of the room and dial my father’s cell phone number. I sit on the floor right by the corner window with my knees up under my chin. I work on the floor a lot, a habit that followed me through from my college days.

  An unexpected voice comes through the receiver. “Jade, darling, how’ve you been?”

  “Hi, Mama. Is Dad there?”

  “Yes, we’re just finishing up breakfast. He left his phone on the dining table and just quickly stepped into his office. I’ll ask Concha to bring the phone to him after we chat for a bit. How are you?” Her accent is thick and stilted but warm and laced with character. She’s the rock of our family. The epitome of the woman behind the man.

  “I’m good. Just crazy busy with work. How have you been feeling lately? I’m thinking of coming up there in a few weeks, as soon as soon as Dad finalizes the closing date for the new building.”

  “Can you make it for a couple of days so we can spend some time together?”

  “Of course. I would love that. I’ll let you know the dates. Sorry, I have to run to another meeting. Can you please have Concha give Dad the phone?” I deliberately try my best not to sound like I’m brushing her off.

  “Okay, hija.” Just when I expect to hear my dad’s voice, she has an afterthought. “Jade?”

  “Yes, Mama?”

  “Did you do what we spoke about the last time? Are you seeking help? Talking to someone?”

  “Not yet, I’ve been too busy, but I promise, it’s on my list.” I follow this assurance with a nervous giggle.

 
; Her tone is somber and soft. “Okay, I love you. Keep me posted.” I hear loud footsteps as she instructs the maid to get my father.

  “Hi, Jadey.” Finally, my token of comfort.

  “Hi, Daddy. Noelle said you called.”

  “Yes, I did. Have you read the contract I emailed to you to get you up to speed on the building purchase? What do you think?”

  “Yes, I reviewed it. So far so good. I’ve asked one question about striking a clause for recoverability and am waiting on it. I just told Mom I would come home for a few days for the signing, so please keep me posted on the dates. With work and all, it’s so hard to take days off.”

  The loving tone of my mother calling to my father and then the sound of crinkling paper can be heard in the background. I picture them in the warmth and sunniness of our home, their love and support such a sharp contrast to the cool and aloof setting I am in.

  “Honey, the press release was just faxed over by the office! Your mom and I are so proud of you. I know I’ve always given you grief about joining our company. After all, this will all be yours when we’re gone, but I get it now. You’ve accomplished so much for yourself. Congratulations! Your mom and I will make a transfer to your account as our little gift to you. Buy something. Or better yet, how about that Evoque that you’ve had your eye on for a while?”

  “Oh, Dad. You really don’t have to. I don’t need anything.”

  “Honey?”

  “Yes?”

  “Please be okay.”

  “I’m trying, Dad. I love you and Mama so much. See you soon. And don’t worry about the contract. I’ll handle it.”

  I don’t wait for him to respond. I press END on the call knowing that I would need a few minutes to contain my desperate urge to get sick before the press shows up for the interview.

  “LET’S ALL LIFT up a glass to the newest, and probably the smartest, member of our circle! Congratulations, Jade Richmond!” Warren, the President of the company announces excitedly. “Gosh, Jade, you don’t know how happy I am to have you finally join us.”