Indulgence

by Liz Crowe

  I sighed. “Well, you know I’ve been having a tough time with the recent acquisition of my company. When it was Erie Bank, I was doing a nice job of working myself up the corporate ladder. I had been there over eight years, had a good reputation among my peers and was appointed Vice President when I was still in my twenties, which was practically unheard of. I knew I would be running a division sometime soon, that I’d be moving up. But now with this new company, I’ve been knocked down a few rungs on that ladder and since the headquarters aren’t here anymore, well, I have limited promotional opportunities.” I felt tears welling up again and the last thing I wanted to do was cry over my job.

  “Ali, you’re smart. If you aren’t happy, find something else. I know you can do it.”

  “But see, that’s the thing. This is Cleveland. There aren’t many big companies here anymore and there aren’t many places willing to match my salary. It’s an employer’s market right now and they want new hires as cheap as they can get them and there are plenty enough unemployed people who will take a job for less than what I make now. And for some reason, you don’t want to move out of Ohio to a place where I could easily find another job. You know my salary needs to stay where it is so we can continue our lifestyle since you took a big pay cut this year.” Guilt set in with my last comment. The remark was not meant to be hurtful, but it was reality.

  “Matt, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  “No, you’re right,” Matt said. “I did take a hefty pay cut and we can’t afford another. But you know what?”

  “What?”

  “Remember the old adage – watch what you wish for?”

  I looked at him, shocked by his response and didn’t really know where he was going with all of this.

  “Wait, what?” I asked. “I tell you that I feel trapped in a job and a city so we can maintain our lifestyle and you respond with ‘watch what you wish for?’”

  “Remember when we first met? The game you played? You always wanted to catch up to my salary. And now look; you’re the breadwinner! It’s not that fun is it, having that pressure on you?” Matt was playful in his tone, trying to cheer me up. It wasn’t working.

  I snorted. “Yeah, right, watch what you wish for. Whatever.”

  “Exactly,” Matt playfully added.

  “It’s not just the job, Matt. When I graduated college, I was so full of hope and ambition; I had dreams. I knew I was going to run a Fortune 500 company someday, or open my own business. I was going to be something special.”

  “Ah, there’s that word. Is this about your parents? About how they used to tell you all the time that you were going to be something special?”

  “Yeah, sort of. It wasn’t just how often they told me, it was the conviction with which they said it, like they knew I was going to be something great. I guess after hearing that so often I thought I was going to do something more than work at a job I hate because it provides the life we want.”

  “Ali, would you look at what you have and where you have gone in your career? You have done something special! We have a beautiful house, food on the table, motorcycles…” he drifted off. “And for what it’s worth, you have me.”

  My heart sank. “Matt, this isn’t about you. You haven’t done anything to make me feel this way. This is all about me. I feel trapped in my job, trapped in this city, trapped by this crappy economy, but not trapped by you.”

  “Good,” he said. “Because you’re stuck with me!”

  This conversation didn’t make me feel better. I thought sharing my discovery with Matt would lift my spirits but that didn’t happen. I wanted to hear that everything would be okay and I’d find what I was looking for and that he would help me in that search. But even if I heard it, I doubted I would have felt any better.

  “There’s more,” I said sheepishly.

  Matt chuckled. “Let’s hear it. I think I can handle it.”

  “Well, this whole thing I just told you about is difficult for me to handle because I’ve always felt that I would be something more.”

  “Isn’t that what we were just talking about?”

  “No, this is different. Ever since I was very young, I felt that I was destined for something. It was more than a simple fascination that I would be famous or rich. It truly was…is…something inside of me, an actual burning in my belly, telling me there’s something else out there for me. But I don’t know what that something is. I don’t know how to seek it out. But this craving is there and won’t leave me alone. I think if I could just figure out my life’s calling, then maybe, just maybe, these damned ailments would go away.”

  Matt paused and looked at me. “You know what they say?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I rolled my eyes, “Watch what you wish for.”

  “No, the grass is always greener until you get to the other side.”

  “Very funny,” I snickered. “Who is this ‘they’ I always hear about?”

  “Well maybe I snapped your mood.” Almost as soon as Matt spoke those words, my aura dampened.

  Everything I had said to Matt was true. But based on his reaction, my words failed to relay the depth to which I wholeheartedly knew something was out there calling me. This burning in the pit of my being, or maybe in my soul or subconscious, knew something it couldn’t relay to my conscious mind. And there was nothing more frustrating.

  “Or maybe, not,” Matt said taking in my grumpy demeanor. “How about a motorcycle ride? That’ll cheer you up.”

  “Have you looked outside? It’s going to rain.”

  Matt ducked his head to look out the window. Black, billowy clouds had swallowed the gray sky.

  “Okay then. Well, since I have to work, maybe you should call Jenna and hang out with her. You know, a girl’s night like you two always used to do.”

  “No.” I immediately dismissed the idea. I didn’t need to burden Jenna with my problems, which was precisely what would happen since I couldn’t shake this funk. She didn’t need me to bring her down. Matt sensed the determinedness in my answer and didn’t bother to convince me otherwise. He examined my face as he searched for his next words.

  “Well, relax and take a bubble bath and try to cheer up. Remember, we have a party to go to tomorrow and you need to shake this mood, you know, so you don’t ruin the whole thing for everyone else!”

  I knew he was joking about ruining everyone’s time, but he was right. I needed to get my mind straight, but it was hard telling it that when the rest of my body was telling me something else.

  Matt kissed me on the lips and bounded across the living room through the foyer and up the stairs. “I got called into work early,” he shouted. “I have to get ready.”

  I walked to the sliding glass door and looked at the woods, then at the black heavens. A lightning bolt cracked across the sky and the rain fell.

  Chapter Two

  I wanted to cry. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore the fact that it was four o’clock in the morning and I had barely slept a wink. Having tossed and turned for the past six hours, I was now trying to empty my mind of any thoughts about my magical garden, hoping that would be enough to finally let me sleep. But when I opened my eyes again, the clock had only moved two minutes. All I wanted was some shut-eye but it was eluding me. When I was a child, my parents would pray with me before I went to bed and it always seemed to help. I shut my eyes again and whispered several Hail Mary’s, hoping the repetition would make me sleepy without waking Matt. That didn’t work either. So I lay in bed, watching one minute tick to the next before I finally realized I was drenched in sweat.

  I quietly slid out of bed and searched the floor for my pajamas. I had stripped them off several hours earlier to escape the heat they were trapping close to my body. I found them, but there was no use in putting them on now so I balled them up and carefully made my way through the dark and into the bathroom. I flipped on the light and the sudden brightness blinded me as my eyes filled with speckled blackness. As my reflection slowly came
into focus, I was pleasantly surprised by what was staring back at me in the mirror.

  For getting no sleep, I looked well rested. My skin was smooth, my complexion even, almost radiant, with not a single visible pore. I expected dark circles under my eyes, but there were none. I usually needed foundation for my skin to look so clear. I tugged at my skin in disbelief. It was soft but hot to the touch. Other than my sweat soaked hair, I looked pretty good.

  I ran my fingers through my short blonde strands, wrestling with the prior day’s hair products. My eyes suddenly caught my attention. Normally a sharp blue gray, they now looked like dull charcoal except for the gold flecks around my pupils that popped with intensity. I shook my head to get any cobwebs out but the tiny teardrop shapes were still there lighting up my otherwise faded eyes. Harsh vanity lighting at four a.m. sure does weird things, I thought.

  I scanned the bathroom trying to decide what to do with my time. My eyes settled on the closet doors and the work out gear I knew was behind them. If I was up this early, I might as well make the most of it.

  I changed into shorts and a t-shirt, tossing aside the nylon running pants that would have been too warm. I clipped my bangs back and tiptoed out of the bathroom, down the stairs to the first level, then to the basement. I didn’t know who I thought I was kidding; I wasn’t looking forward to exercising. I wished I was more like Matt in this regard; he enjoyed working out and the benefits were quite obvious. I took one look at the equipment and without hesitation started to march back upstairs.

  I turned on the television and flipped to a news channel. A pretty blonde reporter in Cocoa Beach, Florida stood in front of a small house cordoned off with caution tape. She was reporting about an attack on the family that had lived there. The parents, three children and one grandparent had been killed for reasons still under investigation. There had been no forced entry and nothing had been stolen. Neighbors were interviewed and they talked about a well-liked family that apparently kept to themselves and had no known enemies. The coroner said a cause of death would be released after full autopsies but leaked references indicated a gruesome crime scene; the victims had been drained of most of their blood. The screen panned back to neighbors who claimed they had heard nothing despite the fact the homes were built close together. This wasn’t exactly an uplifting story so I turned off the television and walked back to the kitchen.

  Peering out the blinds, all I could see was blackness and a hazy yellow moon that hung close to the treetops. Not a single cloud was in the sky, making every star visible. I had never noticed the sheer number of stars as I did this morning. It looked like a painter had carelessly speckled white paint over a giant black ceiling.

  I made a cup of tea and stepped outside to better inspect the stars. The cool air caressed my hot flesh, and I breathed a sigh of relief; it was beyond refreshing. I stood on the patio for several minutes staring at the sky. It was so quiet and peaceful that I didn’t even notice the woods.

  I settled into the hammock and lay there finding shapes in stars. I located the Little Dipper, Aries and part of the Orion constellation. I also found shapes of my own – a unicorn, a pirate ship and a bicycle. There were so many stars to examine that the options for my imagination were endless. I could stay here all night, I thought. But something disturbed my peaceful rendezvous, something at the edge of the woods. I rolled my head to see what it was, but all I caught was a fleeting glimpse of two silvery dots as they faded into the darkness. It was too late in the year for fireflies but before I could think about it, I had drifted off to sleep.

  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 par
ty 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.