The Skye Trilogy: Isle of Skye, Isle of Night, and Isle of Dawn. * Bonus: Scrumptious Skye Confections Cookbook* (4 page)

Five minutes later I walked around the pool and gardens to the front of my parents’ house with my camera in hand. Noticing my parents weren't out yet I decided to snap a few pictures of the main house. Both our houses were stuccoed, like almost all houses in Arizona, but while mine was a bright white my parent’s house was a rich terra-cotta colored. The hacienda also had the standard red roof tiles but in place of shutters there were blue Mexican tiles that outlined the windows. The setting sun in the background made the house shine with a soft pinkish -orange warm glow.

Voices interrupted my impromptu photo shoot of the house. I swung the camera around to the large wooden front double doors and saw my smiling parents all decked out in their finery.

“Woo, check out the two of you. You both look gorgeous as ever, my compliments as always.” I said ending with a low whistle and started snapping away pictures.

My father was wearing in a dark suit with a bright white dress shirt. A green paisley tie completed his ensemble and brought out the green in his eyes more than ever. His dark hair was just showing signs of gray around his temple and sideburns, but he was still in fantastic shape. At six feet three inches there was no sign of softening anywhere on his fit body.

My mother was his perfect compliment. Cecily had tied her dark red hair in a classic chignon which seemed to emphasize her defined cheekbones. Her emerald earrings and matching pendant sparkled around her neck and set off her cashmere wrap dress of the same color beautifully. Her black leather stilettos on her feet made her frame look longer and lither. In a nutshell, they looked amazing. Not for the first time I wondered where I came from as I looked at these two beautiful people. I know I looked like my mom’s mini me with my dad’s eyes, but I just never have mastered the class and grace that exuded from them effortlessly.

“Okay people. Let’s make love to the camera,” I said and then proceeded to shout insane instructions which kept my parents in fits for the next few minutes while I clicked away.

“Alright Ms. Photographer how about a few with your mom?" said Mac still chuckling

“No way, I look like crap after working all day."

“What are you talking about sweetheart? You’re beautiful Willa. I love your hair, all shiny and smooth. You could do a hair commercial,” said Cecily as she ran her fingers lightly through my hair.

“Maybe with a mask covering my face, you're right though we should preserve this moment. Not only is it your thirtieth wedding anniversary, it’s also proof that I went to the hairdresser,” I said handing over the camera to my dad and positioning myself next to my mom.

“Here we go,” Mac said. “Let me see smiles from my two beautiful princesses."

After a few snaps with my mom, she walked over to my dad and snatched the camera away from him to take even more pictures of him and myself. What started out as a quick anniversary memento soon turned into family portrait day at Sears minus the hideous backgrounds.

“Enough, enough,” I said. "This isn’t prom. You both need to get out of here if you want to make your reservations at Umberto’s."

"She’s right Cessie, we need to get going." said Mac

"Ok, my love. What are your plans for tonight Willa?" my mom asked as she picked up her small black clutch that she had laid on the walkway.

“Well, I thought I would shoot up a little heroin, invite a couple of gigolos over and make a home movie." I answered with my eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“Oh Willa,” Cecily sighed. “Can you ever just answer a question without a smart answer?"

“Sure, but do you want me to answer a question with a dumb answer?"

“Oh Willa, never mind,” she sighed again

“I’m going to write that in your obituary, ‘She died peacefully in her sleep after sighing, Oh Willa.'”

My mom’s eyes narrowed at that comment. “Sorry,” I said. “My grand plan was to stuff my face with Chef’s Julio’s gourmet burger and over salted fries. Then I was going to wash it all down with luscious milk shake, which pretty much ought, to put me in a carb coma. I'm hoping the coma lasts for seven to eight hours because frankly I do not want to be awake when you get home and inadvertently hear any anniversary celebrating."

“Let’s leave Willa to her carb coma Cecily,” said Mac

“Good-bye sweetheart." my mom said as she gave me a quick hug. “Have a nice evening and don’t forget to lock the doors and set your alarm."

"Ten four Officer McCormack,” I gave her a little salute

“Night Willy Dilly." said Mac as he drew me in for a quick hug he whispered. “Before you fall asleep don’t forget Operation Anniversary Romance."

“Got you covered old man,” I whispered back, “Now go ride off into the sunset with your lovely bride, so I can get started."

I watched them pull out of the driveway with a big grin on my face and my hand shot up to give them a wave good-bye. For a few minutes, I just looked admiringly at the setting sunset and enjoyed the smell of the fragrant air that the slight breeze stirred up around me.

Not ready to go in yet, I sat down on the front steps of the hacienda and scrolled through the pictures that were in my digital camera. I smiled lovingly at the shots of my parents and scowled slightly, critiquing the images of the pictures with me in them. I went back to check out what else was on my camera that I haven't downloaded yet. I was pleasantly surprised to find pictures of the bakery and my crew that worked there.

There was a great shot of Polly, looking more Goth than usual, with her purple streaked hair and ripped black tulle dress. She was working intently on a pink and purple ballerina cake (hence the nod with the tulle dress) for my neighbors adorable four- year- old daughter. The next one showed her standing proudly in front of the finished product; her bizarre attire and hair should have looked out of place, but her wide smile was stunning.

About of dozen other images included Jon doing some self-portraits, who must have hijacked my camera. There was also a half a dozen more of Eric. The pictures captured him slaving over the arduous task of rolling out the dough for his double stuffed cinnamon rolls, that he sprinkled with sea salt and crystallized caramel.

I didn’t realize at the time how precious those pictures would mean to me or how that was the last evening that I would ever sit through it without a nagging worry or fear. As I sat watching the last few streaks of fire sink into the western sky, I could only see beauty but pretty soon I would feel terror.

"Beep, Beep, beep.” My annoying alarm on my phone went off waking me up from a sound sleep. I cracked my eyes opened, at first, completely disorientated. After dragging myself back to my cottage following the impulsive sunset viewing party of one, I scarfed down my gourmet meal and crashed out on my soft suede sofa but not before I had the forethought to set the alarm on my phone.

I clutched my stomach when I stood up to stretch for a minute. I probably should not have taken a little nap right after eating a giant jalapeno burger, fries and shake. I detoured to the bathroom to grab a couple of Gas-X and washed those down with a glass of water. I headed back out to my kitchen to scoop up the packages before I made my way over to my parent’s house.

I let myself in the back door and got to work. I was determined to get this over with quickly and efficiently. I so did not want to be here when my parents arrived home. Talk about embarrassment for me and buzz kill for them. I started setting the yellow and white candles first in the foyer, then in the living room and lastly the master bedroom.

I went into the kitchen and unwrapped the florist paper from three different bouquets of yellow and white roses. I put two filled vases in the bedroom and saved one to compliment my own surprise for them. I grabbed a large box filled with red rose petals and spread them from the foyer to the bedroom. I left a handful in the box as I went into the always vacant guestroom and liberated a small round bedside table. I dragged it out into the living room to set up my gift.

I shook out a crisp white linen tablecloth to get any wrinkles out and put it on a small table. Next I put a cute yellow sparkle overlay that I found at a craft store on top of that. I carefully opened the small cake box from the bakery and put a miniature three tiered wedding cake that I had made a few days ago in the center of the table. Tiny white edible pearls dotted on the smooth pale yellow surface of the cake. At the top, I put a funky crystallized sugar sculpture with the number thirty cleverly sketched in by Eric.

The third vase I filled with more roses and set it on the table. Lastly, I set out a few plates, forks, a serving knife and the piece de resistance, two large gaudy golden plastic chalices I found at a party store which I placed next to the bottle of Dom Perignon. “I have to leave a little fun and a piece of me for you both,” I said out loud.

I took one last look around and realized I forget the decorations. I retraced my steps back to the bedroom and sat down on the floor to clip several long pieces of the yellow and white ribbons. I tied the ribbons around my parent’s large canopy bed and stepped back to admire my handiwork. The light yellow walls glowed beautifully in the candlelit room. The bedposts looked like something out of a fairy tale all tied up with ribbons, and the roses sweetened the air with their fragrance. It was then I felt a pang of loneliness in my stomach.

While I was not a nun, I was not what you called experienced. My first love was my high school boyfriend. Rob lived down the street from me growing up, and we knew each other our whole lives. He was the quintessential boy next door, tall, sweet, and a shy sense of humor. With his sun streaked blonde hair and swimmer's body that he magically developed overnight our junior year, I fell head over heels for him. It was in his backyard on a warm, starlit night soon after graduation that I lost my virginity to him, and we proclaimed our undying love. That was, of course, until the end of summer when he went to school on the other side of the country while I stayed here in Yuma.

The handful of guys I dated in college didn’t count since none of them was into any long lasting relationship. That is why after a few tries dating I focused more on my studies than the opposite sex. Suzy used to call me the queen of the first date. She told me that unless I was going to put out they were never going to call me again. I responded with, “Then why on earth would I ever want to see them again, if that were the case."

My first adult relationship lasted two years. I had just opened my bakery and was working like a dog when one night Polly dragged me down the street to a pub. David was both the owner and the bartender. We hit it off right away. At first it seemed ideal; we both were young and opening up our own businesses. Soon the reality of him working nights and me working early mornings caught up to us. I almost think we stayed together for as long as we did because it was convenient. Neither of us expected the other to place demands on our relationship nor did we have any desire to live together and move forward. We simply saw each other when we could and for a while it worked for us. That was until I surprised him one early morning at his apartment. I used the key he had given me for the first time six months earlier and found him asleep, naked as the day he was born, with one of the waitresses who worked for him.

Even though, I was initially pissed and filled with righteous anger I got over it pretty quickly. That was when I realized that obviously I didn't love him. If I did, I would have been devastated but I wasn’t. I was almost relieved. The pressure of running a business and having a boyfriend was a hassle I didn’t want. Polly and Jon have been trying to set me up, embarrassedly, with men that would come into the bakery for the past year. Nobody had caught my eye though or gave me butterflies. I know the expectation of sparks flying was unrealistic, but I still hoped that one day it might happen.

That didn’t mean I had ice in my veins. I still missed the thrill of those first few dates. When you are trying to get to know each other, and it’s awkward, but there is something there that makes you want to see them again, those first hesitant kisses that grow into passionate embraces. The gradual slide into more comfortableness when you can just sit on the couch together, watch TV and realize later you haven’t spoken for over an hour. Those were the little things I missed about being in a couple.

Maybe Suzy was right (Oh God did I just think that!?) I didn’t think I was necessarily drowning but I was in a rut. I suppose a little wardrobe makeover was in order. After all, shorts, jeans and t-shirts caked with flour weren’t exactly attractive. I didn’t want new things to attract men. I wanted new clothes for me. Clothes that made me feel good about myself and more confident.