Glimmers (11 page)

“Love you too. Bye,” Elliott says before hanging up.

I can’t wipe this silly smile off my face. Elliott just made my day. We barely ever have lunch together. Something always seems to get in the way.

Forget about going to the craft store, I have a lunch date to get ready for. Abruptly, I turn the car around and rush home. I need to properly freshen up.

~ * * * ~

I am putting on my favorite new/used pair of jeans and a chocolate brown shirt, that ever so slightly falls off one shoulder, when suddenly, I hear my/Delilah’s boots calling to me; their song comes from the floor in my closet. I cannot resist the whisper of their melody—I must answer.

Desperately, I work out my ponytail lump. My flat iron should do the trick. A few products later, and my hair falls gracefully around my shoulders. The mirror seems to give me a nod of approval, so I venture off to meet my husband.

~ * * * ~

Silver Spoon Café is a favorite of ours. The food is light, with yummy sandwiches, gourmet soups, and unique salads. The restaurant has a nice outdoor eating area, surrounded by beautiful tropical plants. An added bonus: the absence of TV’s. I know I can eat in peace and not worry about whether or not I’ll catch my husband looking over my head, watching some sport’s clip of the day.

Elliott has already arrived. There he is, sitting at one of the white cast iron tables. I pause under the carved teak archway and take in the scene. Sometimes, I like to pretend it’s our first date. I want to enjoy a moment and see Elliott with a renewed freshness. Right now, he’s dressed in his standard work apparel: a long-sleeved buttoned-down shirt with khaki pants.

My husband is one of those rare men who comes across as both rugged and nerdy, the perfect combination of Indiana Jones and Clark Kent. Not only is he handsome, he’s smart (an engineer by trade). Yes, he drives me crazy half the time, but I still find him attractive. And I remember, over the years, he has remained my best friend.

His eyes twinkle and his grin spreads across his entire face. He must be up to something. Immediately, I become suspicious and can’t wait to find out what he’s up to.

“This is a nice surprise. What’s the occasion?” I ask, as my curiosity rises.

“Now, can’t a husband have lunch with his wife and not have an ulterior motive?” He smiles sheepishly and adds, “All right, you’ve got me.”

He pushes a brochure across the table. A photo of a beachside cottage decorates the cover.

My eyebrows scrunch together questioningly, and I inquire, “What’s up with this?”

“I was thinking about what you said this morning, and you’re right. We need to spend some time away together. I saw this advertisement and thought perhaps . . .” he starts to explain, but my phone rings and cuts him off midsentence. Our conversation is just getting interesting, too.

“You’re not going to answer that
now
are you?” he asks, while I rumble around in my purse.

“It could be the kids’ school or something else important. It’ll only take a second. Ah, here it is,” I say, grabbing my phone.

“Let me guess, your mother or your sister?”

“Sister, do you mind? It won’t take long.” At this, he rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair. I blow him a little kiss and answer the phone. “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you. How is my wonderful big sis doing?” Hailey inquires.

“What can I do for you?”

“Funny you should ask,” she responds, and I sit back in my chair, mirroring my husband. “The jewelry store just called. It would seem that my ring is ready, and I need to have it back on my finger before Derek starts wondering why I’m not wearing it.”

“You haven't been wearing your engagement ring? Why not?”

“Don’t ask me stupid questions. It’s with the jeweler. Listen, I’m completely swamped. Could you swing by there, and pick it up for me, please?”

“When?” I mutter.

“As soon as possible would be great. I’ll owe you for life.”

“All right, after lunch I’ll swing over there,” I say, adding in a half-joking manner, “And with all I do for you, you already owe me for life.”

“Great. You’re the best. Bye!” She flutters off the phone.

When I look at my husband, he is sighing, loudly, and wearing an exaggerated expression of boredom. I cast him a silly smile, showing lots of teeth.

“Thanks for waiting. I’m not really sure why I even answer her calls. I suppose I’m just a glutton for punishment or something,” I say and lift the brochure. “Well, now you have my undivided attention. What’s up with the cottage?”

“I was thinking you and I should take a mini-vacation; have a weekend full of pure romance and passion. Just us, no kids allowed,” he says and removes his glasses to demonstrate his point by raising his eyebrows up and down.

“Really, when? I am so there!”

“In two weeks. It‘ll be a good time to leave work behind and focus on nothing but us.”

“Sounds perfect, but this doesn’t have anything to do with my telling you about Delilah, does it?”

“Well, I have to admit you have caused me some concern. It’s obvious you need to get away…we need to spend some time together,
alone
.”

“That’s cute.”

“What’s cute?”

“You’re trying to fix my
problem
by taking me on a trip,” I reveal. “Believe me; I’m thrilled about this . . . . I just hope you want to go for the right reason.”

“And what reason would I have other than wanting to spend some time alone with my wife?”

“I just want to make sure you’re not trying to ‘fix’ me,” I say and anxiously wait for his response.

The corners of his mouth turn upward, and he says, “I would like nothing more than to spend some time with you. I’m only sorry it took your having delusions to help me realize that.”

“Elliott, it was not a delusion. I really saw those things, and I’m going to figure out a way to prove it. In fact, later tonight, you and I can research information about Delilah on the computer.”

“All right, but until then, let’s just focus on the trip,” he says and extends his hand across the table to hold mine.

“Who’s going to be brave enough to watch the kids?”

“I’ve already spoken with your mother, and she has agreed to stay over with them.”

“The kids have never slept a full night without one of us right down the hall. I hope they don’t wake Mom in the middle of the night,” I say, but as I imagine a night away, I want to jump out of my chair. Elliott watches my reaction and seems pleased by it. Good thing too, since I almost ruined a sweet moment by answering my sister’s call. Mental note to never do that again.

Throughout lunch, we excitedly plan our upcoming vacation. I feel charged by our discussion and have enjoyed the meal immensely. In fact, I’m thinking we should do this more often.

When it’s time to leave our little bubble of happiness, I frown. Elliott walks with me to my minivan, and as I’m about to hop inside, he grabs my waist and pulls me close to his chest. I gasp, but slowly lean in closer and wrap my arms around him. I nestle my head against his chest and listen to him breathe.

“We need to spend more time alone. Love you,” he says, and I can feel his words trail down my cheek in a soft whisper. I’m surprised by his romantic gesture
and
by my body’s reaction. This is different from our normal ‘routine’ of moving about like robots, mimicking each others’ actions. This is fresh and wonderful. In fact, I find myself melt a little.

When we part, I’m a little light headed. He releases me, and I begin to slide behind the steering wheel, a silly smile is on my face. Before I can sit, however, I feel a sudden
WHOMP
on my rear! I literally jump into the air! When I turn, I see Elliott is laughing.

“Couldn’t help myself, just got carried away by the moment.” He smiles and walks away. “Have fun trying on jewelry!” he hollers and jumps into his car.

~ * * * ~

Funny thing, not even the traffic bothers me, as I think about our upcoming beach vacation. I can’t wait! It’s been a long time since I’ve felt any sort of heightened anticipation about anything.

And then it occurs to me, and I mumble, “Great, it looks like I better go shopping for a new swim suit.”

Don’t get me wrong, I love shopping for clothes. I just absolutely detest trying on bathing suits. What a nightmare! Although I consider myself healthy looking, I find there’s nothing worse than standing in front of a full length mirror, pale skinned, in a suit that doesn’t fit right. Those awful fluorescent lights enhance every imperfection. I always feel like a giant marshmallow stuffed into a rubber band. Not a pretty visual.

The radio’s playing Squeeze’s
Tempted by a Fruit of Another
. I love eighties music. Although I’ve heard this song a million times, I don't think I've ever paid attention to the lyrics. Still, I hum along with the tune.

When my phone rings, I can see it’s my sister calling . . . again.

“Are you there yet?” she asks abruptly.

“I’m on my way.”

“Great, I really appreciate it. I realize I should have taken care of this sooner. It just slipped my mind. You know, I‘ve been tied up at work and stuff. Speaking of which, guess who’s going to be the interior designer for the new boutique on Park Ave?” she asks, sounding giddy.

“Hmm, let’s see . . . Hailey Smith?”

“Right, the owner didn’t stand a chance once I led her into my office and . . .” Hailey begins, but I am quick to cut her off.

“And she fell dumbstruck by the flashy design of your office interiors, and the breathtaking view from your window overlooking downtown Orlando.”

“All right, so I’ve told a similar story once or twice before. What can I say, it works every time.”

“Hailey, I have a feeling it takes a little more than having an incredible office view to land a client. I mean, you’re a very talented designer. Your prospective clients would have to be crazy not to hire you,” I say, not really sure where this sudden inspiration came from. And even though I’m speaking the truth, why am I paying her a compliment? Lately, she has been such a pain.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my sister,” she says humbly.

“Actually, I have to say that despite the fact you're my sister,” I throw in for good measure.

“Thanks, so anyway,” she says, and then continues to flutter on about events at work. She’s especially excited about her interior designs for a hot new restaurant scheduled to open downtown, very soon.

After rambling on and on about her work and newest client, she finally changes the subject, “Are we still going to work on the wedding invitations tonight? I’ll bring a bottle of wine, and we can chat.”

“I’m looking forward to it, darlin’.”

“Did you, in some strange twangy tone, just call me darlin’?”

“I guess so. Why, what’s so wrong with darlin’?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you sound different. Oh well, no biggie.”

“All right, I’ll call you after I pick up the ring.”

“Thanks so much! Oh and Paige, one more thing,” she says and I brace myself, “since we wear the same ring size, could you try it on for me? I’ve had so much trouble having it fitted correctly. I mean, it should
easily
come off my finger
without
soap.”

“Good bye,” I say and hang up.

Maid of honor is the equivalent to a bride’s personal servant. I am constantly running errands for Hailey, and now I have to try on her engagement ring.

~ * * * ~

I approach the shiny doors of the jewelry store, and as soon as I am inside, find myself surrounded by breathtaking jewels . . . and I am bedazzled. I peer into a glass display case, gleaming with sparkling items, when a blonde woman approaches. Her name’s Hilary, or at least that’s what she has written on her name tag.

“How may I help you today?” she asks, while casually flipping her perky hair behind her shoulder.

“I’m here to pick up a ring for Hailey Smith. I’m Paige MacKenzie,” I say, smiling in return.

“Of course, she mentioned you might be the one to pick it up. I’ll only be a moment. May I offer you some coffee while you wait?”

“No, thank you.”

“Let me know if there is anything else I can help you with.” Hilary’s polite smile slowly fades as she moves away.

I’m left alone, surrounded by display cases. Look at that bracelet! And what a deal! How much time until my wedding anniversary? Ooh, it’s only a few short months away! This jewelry is really unique. I must remember to drop subtle hints and descriptions later. After all, I’m sure Elliott will need some ideas for our big eleven year wedding anniversary.

Hilary returns with the ring, holding it in the palm of her hand. Gracefully, she places it on a black velvet pad.

“This diamond is gorgeous, isn’t it? Your sister is a very lucky woman,” she notes, still gazing down.

Although I’m mesmerized by its splendor, I’m surprised this ring is so traditional. Hailey is not a traditional sort of girl. I imagine her wearing a ring with a modern twist. This looks more like a ring
I
would choose for myself.