I placed the necklace around my neck and shrugged. “It was my mother’s. Pretty much the only thing I have of hers.”
As the pendant rested against my heart, for a brief moment it felt as if I were finally whole again. My entire life, I had felt misplaced and unguided, and now, it was as if this necklace gave me a purpose. It was my connection to my mother. I silently vowed to myself that I would never take it off.
The rest of the tin contained a handwritten journal. I closed the lid and walked the tin box over to the dresser, placing it into a drawer. Whatever was in that journal needed to be read privately. This was not the time.
“Well,” I said, wrapping up a very eventful day of cleaning. “Let’s throw this junk into my truck and drop it off at the Goodwill down the street.”
Chrissy, happy to be done with this laborious duty, jumped to her feet and clapped her hands. Even though she was a pampered princess who complained a lot, I was deeply grateful for all the help she had given me today.
***
The week passed quickly and uneventfully. I was so worried I had not gotten everything arranged for my granny and her nurse. Before I realized it, the time had come for both of them to arrive home. My worries were all in vain, as usual. Both ladies settled in nicely and the new nurse, Nouri, and I got along fabulously, as we both shared a very special common interest—Granny Emmy.
Nouri was a Filipina woman who had arrived in America that same year. She was great to Emmy and I loved her for it. She didn’t just take care of the only family I had known, but somehow she became part of the family.
So many nights after working a long day in the grocery store, I would arrive home to find that Nouri had cooked dinner for the two of us. We would eat the delicious food she learned how to prepare from her home country and then we would sit at the table together and play cards.
The evenings would inevitably fade into me recalling memories of Granny growing up, or the stories of how Ray and I met and the young love we shared, our current situation, and how we desperately were trying to get back to each other. Nouri never tired of the colorful stories that defined my world. And most importantly, Nouri loved Granny.
By the sixth month of taking care of my grandmother, Nouri and I had settled nicely into a routine and found that not only did we enjoy each other’s company, but we were perfect co-workers. While I worked during the days, Nouri was home with Granny. I spent the evenings helping out and visiting with my elderly relative and then Nouri and I would catch up with each other over dinner. Life was comfortable. There was just one thing missing from it.
Ray.
As Nouri and I sat across at dinner one night at the circular pinewood table I couldn’t help but glance down at my phone. As was the case every day, there were no voice mails or missed calls from him. I had called Ray three times earlier that day but had gotten his voicemail every time.
As much as I tried to deny it, it was obvious that Ray and I were drifting apart. I needed to find a way to repair our sinking relationship and I needed to do it quickly or we were over. I tossed my phone on the table, picked up my fork, and began picking at my food. I was no longer hungry.
“What the matter?” Nouri asked in her broken English. “That boyfriend no call you?”
I shook my head, not really caring to discuss Ray tonight.
Nouri shook her plump round head as she squinted at me through her brown eyes. “You let me meet him, Sidney. I tell him what I think. He no good to you. You find tall, handsome rich doctor.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as she reminded me of Chrissy’s mantra; always be on the search for a successful man with bulging pockets. I pushed my plate to the side. Scooting my wooden chair back and standing up, I announced that I was going to visit with Granny.
Quietly entering Granny Emmy’s room, I tip-toed across the old scuffed wooden floor, making my way to her side to ensure she was comfortable. I missed her terribly and wanted to spend some time with her, to let her know I was there for her. Always.
The climate that late February was unseasonably warm and I went to her bedroom window and lifted the wooden frame, allowing the cool air to push its way in as a welcome refreshment to bring a little relief to my granny.
The cool breeze felt invigorating against my hot skin. I kept my face in the small window for some time, just taking in all of that sweet air outside. It was at that instant I decided that I would have to plant some gardenias outside of her window. Their fragrance is absolutely heavenly and I thought it would be a nice gesture to enlighten Granny’s senses.
I stood by the window remembering when I was a little girl and this was my bedroom. A simple white space with four walls, a twin bed, and a small black and white television on a stand in front of the bed.
This room had been my sanctuary as a small child. I would spend endless hours locked away in here listening to my mother’s CD and writing in my journals. Mostly I would write about my dreams of escaping this place. I stood and smiled next to the window while all the aromas and sounds of so many years ago returned to me.
The bed linens were always crisp; a white sheet set and a white quilt matching the white walls, including the white rolled up vinyl shade on the window. As I surveyed the room in the present moment I realized it was now eerily similar to a hospital stay.
Ironic.
The very place Granny had insisted she would never be a part of in her final years now closely resembled that same hospice. Unknowingly, I had devastated her wishes as much as I had honored them. No matter how hard I tried, it always seemed I was disappointing someone.
I turned from the view outside and walked to her bed.
Smiling tenderly at my dear grandmother, I whispered, “There, that should feel better for you, Granny. I opened the window and let some air in here for you.”
I always spoke to her defying the words of Dr. Kyle, who told me she could not hear a word I said. I smiled inwardly as I conversed with Granny. “Doctors don’t know everything, they are people of science, but there are far greater powers in the world than science.”
I was not a religious person but if there was a small possibility that God did exist then I would hold onto that sliver of hope and believe Granny could hear me. She had always been a spiritual believer and there just had to be a God, even if just for her sake. It would be a tragedy for her to devote her entire life to something that didn’t exist. I personally felt many times that religion was a crock but I never believed there was nothing in the life hereafter. There had to be something. Otherwise, what would be the point of all this?
I sat down on Granny’s old Stickley chair and began reading Wuthering Heights to her. As I related the moment that Heathcliff came back to Catherine, finding her married to Edgar and living at Thrushcross Grange, I suddenly felt contempt for Catherine for choosing money over Heathcliff.
To be fair, if Heathcliff had stayed and fought for Catherine rather than running away, then maybe, just maybe, he could have stopped her from marrying the wealthy Edgar Linton. They were both to blame for their life apart after all.
At that moment, I hoped Granny would feel a similar passion. It would only be fair for a woman of her great emotion and depth to share this convoluted love story as the breeze wafted over both of us in the white room.
I put the book down and took Granny Emmy’s thin, frail hand. Even with the deep creasing of wrinkles, her skin was so cool and soft like a newborn baby. It was a hand that seemed to have never touched a day’s work.
Her nails were painted a soft pink, like a blushing rose facing its first spring day. They made me smile. I remembered that growing up my granny always had the most perfectly manicured nails. I was so thankful for the ever attentive Nouri, who recognized the importance for a woman such as Granny Emmy to keep up her appearance. I leaned over and softly kissed her cheek.
All of a sudden, Nouri came crashing into the room, holding my phone as it chimed in her hand. I lunged out of the chair and reached for the phone as soon as I saw that it was
Ray calling.
Nouri handed me the phone and went straight over to the window and pulled the wooden frame down. I smiled again at the ever attentive nurse as I whispered a hurried goodnight to her and headed upstairs.
“Hello?” I answered, trying to slow my rapid heartbeat.
“Is your grandma still alive?” Ray asked, emotionless.
“Ray!” I yelled as I climbed the green carpeted stairs. “Of course she is. You don’t have to be such an inconsiderate ass.”
There was nothing but silence on the other end as I entered my bedroom and closed the door. I sat down at the tiny desk and listened to Ray’s breathing.
“I don’t want to fight anymore,” I finally said.
“You promised me you’d be here,” he said, bluntly reminding me of the circle we’d been going around for the last eight months.
“Things change, Ray. If I could, I would be there. You know that.”
“I can’t do this anymore, Sid. It hurts too much missing you. I’d rather forget you altogether than hurt like this.”
I was happy to at least hear that he still cared. The past eight months had been torture for me. Ever since I told Ray that I wasn’t coming back to L.A. he had put up an emotional wall that was impossible to break down. He had been acting cold, insensitive, and uncaring. Now tonight, at least he was letting me in. The wall was finally beginning to crumble.
“I hurt too, Ray. I miss you so much. But it’s only temporary,” I promised.
More silence.
“Are you there?” I asked.
“I think we should break up,” he said flatly.
Now it was my turn to sit on the phone with no response.
“I want to break up,” Ray repeated.
My mind raced. Was he serious?
I waited for the punch line but there was none. Ray really wanted to break up with me. I reached for anything, grasping at straws, “But I love you,” I squeaked.
“I love you too, Sid,” he answered.
Okay, so we still love each other, I rationalized in my addled brain. He’s just mad and believes that if he tricks me into thinking he’s going to break up with me then I’ll move back down there. I knew Ray’s M.O. I knew him better than he knew himself. This will all blow over, I tried to convince myself. It has to.
“I’m going to go bed now,” I said, refusing to take those last words of his seriously. “Call me tomorrow?”
“I’m sorry. Goodnight, Sid.”
I hung up the phone and clutched it to my chest. He didn’t mean that. I know he didn’t, I thought to myself. Nothing’s changed, we still love each other and he’s going to call me tomorrow.
I rolled over on my side and thought more about Ray before falling asleep.
Chapter Three
Run Right Through
It has been nine months since I left that enormous mansion in the hills of Los Angeles but it looked just the same as I’d remembered when the taxi cab approached the ebony gates. I smiled as I recalled the last memory I had of arriving at these very gates with Ray and his bandmates in the back of the limousine. We were just five kids from some small town that day. Things were so much simpler then.
Ray had changed.
He used to be so noble, always putting everyone ahead of himself. But now, as each day passed, he seemed to drift further and further from the man I used to know. The record label had spoiled him, granting his every wish. All he had to do was ask and it was his.
That first day in the mansion, when we stood together inside that closet fully equipped with every article of clothing for a year, I watched him easily take the hat and place it on his head. I realized now why it had bothered me so much.
It may have been just a hat then, but what were his possessions these days? I was afraid to find out what else Ray was trying on.
I stared at the steel bars that kept me out of the house as I called Ray on his cell phone. It went right to voicemail as it always seemed to do lately.
Today was very special to me. It was Ray’s 20th birthday. I had been saving every extra penny from my meager grocery store salary to afford a round trip plane ticket to visit him. The last month had been a bit rocky, to say the least. Ever since Ray’s attempt to break up with me I knew that something had to be done on my part to show him I was putting forth an effort to save our relationship.
As I ended the call, I attempted to dial Finn, hoping he would be home and able to provide me access into the fortress. The last thing I needed was to wander the streets of Los Angeles. Thankfully, Finn answered right away.
“Sidney Sinclair…is it really you?” he answered in astonishment.
“OMG. Is this Finn Aldman, the famous guitar player from the hit band, Unspoken Words?” I mimicked the tone of a young teenage fan idolizing their favorite band.
We both laughed, it was good to hear such a friendly voice on the other end. “Do you mind opening the gates? I’m in a cab down here.”
“Ummm…” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Sure, no problem.”
“Oh and Finn, don’t mention anything to Ray if he’s up there. I want it to be a surprise.”
Finn laughed heartily, “Oh, what a surprise it will be too!”
The gates swung open and the cab began its short drive to the front of the estate. I paid the driver and exited the cab. I didn’t bring any luggage with me since I had only planned to stay one night and, if needed, I finally agreed in my mind to accept the free clothes. They were, after all, hand selected just for me. If I wasn’t going to use them, who would?
As I walked toward the massive wooden front doors, they opened outwardly and Finn stood in the entrance to greet me.
“Thanks so much, Finn, you’re a doll,” I said as I strode right past him.
Finn’s carefree attitude seemed to have dissipated since our lighthearted phone conversation just moments before. He was very solemn now as he gripped my arm and with an urgency in his voice, he murmured, “Sidney. I gotta tell you something.”
I shook my arm loose from his grip and told him it would have to wait. Mounting the stairs, I was able to take them two at a time as I comfortably climbed in my red Converse tennis shoes. I thought I heard Finn call my name but I didn’t turn back. I was too excited to see Ray. It had been way too long.
I pushed open the mahogany doors and entered our suite. Ray was sitting on the bed wearing a black button down shirt with matching slacks.
“Happy birthday, babe…surprise!” I announced, throwing up my hands in the air.
He sat as still as a statue, staring at me in disbelief as I rushed over to him. I jumped in his lap, laying a kiss on his perfectly full lips. He didn’t respond to my touch and instead took my hands and gently scooted out from underneath me.
“Sid. What are you doing here?” he said in a hushed tone. Climbing to his feet, he nervously glanced towards the closet doors.
As my brain began to slowly process the fact that Ray was not happy to see me, I heard the door to our closet open and out walked a strikingly sexy young woman. She had vivid red hair the color of a fine burgundy wine, full of fire and exotic danger. Her hair perfectly complemented her catlike green eyes, which were deep set inside of her perfectly oval face, reminiscent of a delicate porcelain doll. She was breathtakingly beautiful.
She was my worst nightmare.
I was mesmerized; I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was wearing an expensive black gown with a neckline cut seductively low, which perfectly accented her full breasts and flowed downward to reveal a sensual hint of her long, toned legs. Her dress was sprinkled with Swarovski crystals woven into the fabric to make it truly stunning, not to mention memorable.
I suddenly recoiled in horror…
She was wearing my dress!
I resented the fact she looked so good in it.
Her cat green eyes were focused on me. She was appraising me and silently saying, “We both know I look sexier in this dress than you ever could.”
> I looked at her and then back at Ray still trying to understand why this woman was in our room with my boyfriend and wearing my dress. My boyfriend was sitting silently on the bed trying to comprehend the feminine connection between me and this goddess who had turned my entire romantic life upside down.
As his gaze darted back and forth and followed two women and the competitive dance of our eyes, Ray had no clue what was going on. He was just trying to survive. His face had turned a shade whiter and he appeared on the verge of throwing up, but he quickly recovered himself.
“Sid, this is Lilly. Lilly Lavelle, meet Sidney Sinclair.” Ray mimicked the hand gestures of a very forced introduction.
“Sidney. Of course,” Lilly purred with the sincerity of a terrorist.
She reminded me of a sleek black panther as she prowled across the room towards me and extended her elegant hand. “You’re Ray’s little high school girlfriend from back home, right? Pretty necklace,” she purred as she admired my pendant.
I accepted the hand, not knowing what else to do. At least it wasn’t a razor sharp claw.
“Ex,” Ray corrected.
Lilly had prowled, I mean moved, back to stand next to Ray, and brushed her body against his as she pulled her hair to one side and seductively asked; “Do you mind helping a gal out?”
I watched in horror as Ray gripped the zipper and pulled it up, stretching my dress over her hourglass figure, realizing that he had just called me his ex-girlfriend.
Still speechless, I looked at Ray, who angrily stared back at me with cold, emotionless eyes. I realized, as I observed the beautiful Lilly Lavelle, that she and my ex were both dressed formally. I was too late. Ray already had plans to celebrate his birthday; apparently with his new girlfriend.
Three’s a crowd…guess which number I was. I had become an unwelcome guest in a house I had once considered my home. My eyes burned with salt water. I closed them and tried to force the tears back inside.
“I feel so stupid,” I whispered as I quickly stood up and walked numbly to the door.
Between Dreams Page 3