Flawed Perfection: A Collection of Winter Wishes Read online

  “It’s a cycle. You don’t get enough sleep and work long hours, so when comes the time to eat, the faster the better, plus the quality of what you’re eating is not the greatest.” She pauses to gauge my mood. “All those intentions to cook good meals disappeared the moment your life became about you.”

  I hate to say this, but she’s right. I don’t care what I eat and it’s starting to show. If the way I look isn’t appealing to me, then there’s no way it is to the people around me either. Not that I care much. Of course, I’d never have let myself go like this if I hadn’t lost the love of my life.

  Everything wrong in my life all goes back to the death of my boys. I can’t keep doing this to myself. They wouldn’t want me to suffer like this. No longer humming Sinatra, the tears are coming now, but I remind myself I’m walking on the sidewalk and don’t want to find pity in the eyes of whoever might see me.

  Walking faster to my car, I struggle to keep it together. I don’t want to cry today, I don’t. As soon as I’m inside and the car is started, I crank up the music then start to sing along in hopes of shaking my mind clear of things while driving.

  It’s working. I’m singing my heart out, and laughing even, which doesn’t happen too often. When I park by my apartment building, my friend is waiting for me, which is unusual.

  “Hi, Adele. Are you in the mood for a manicure and pedicure? My treat.” Her fingers crossed, she gives me a ridiculous smile.

  It’s obvious she wants me to go. My plan was to go home and relax, but how am I supposed to say no to her? “Can you give me two minutes to change?”

  “Absolutely,” she says hugging me.

  “You look great, Vanessa.”

  Vanessa and I have been friends since we were in elementary school. She’s the bachelorette I’d spent the evening with the night the fire happened. Since their deaths she’s been super supportive, and the best friend I could ever wish for.

  “Thanks. You look amazing. Have you lost weight?”

  Have I? I doubt it. “I don’t think so.” I chuckle.

  “Regardless, you look great. There is something about you that’s changed, that’s a good thing.”

  She hugs me once more then follows me inside and waits while I change into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. “How’s Jimmy doing?”

  “He’s good. He flew out of town yesterday for a business trip.”

  “So you come running to me the minute you’re free?” I tease her. “That’s my girl.”

  “I missed you. We haven’t done anything special in weeks, and I was due for my manicure, so I thought, why not?”

  “Excellent idea,” I agree while making my way out of the bathroom with lip gloss and mascara on. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything fun like this. It feels great. “I’m ready.”

  “Look at you, Adele Gordon. You’re shining.”

  My friend knows how to make me happy. Rolling my eyes at her, I motion to her to follow me to the door. “Come on, now.”

  ***

  Relaxing at the salon, I can’t keep my eyes open while the tech massages my feet. This is so welcome. So perfect. The technician’s touch tickles and makes my whole body shudder. “I love this, Vanessa. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. To spoil you once in a while.” Vanessa squeezes my shoulder with her hand as a sign of support. “What color are you going to paint your nails? I think I’ll take a pale pink.”

  “I was thinking about a cherry red.”

  “Cherry red? So you’re going for a bold color? I like that.”

  In general, I go for neutral, but for once I want to do something different, and out of my comfort zone. This ‘want’ turns me thoughtful for a second wishing I knew why this sounded good, and wondering, Why today?

  After the foot massage, which affects me like a rush of melatonin, I could crawl to my bed. I’m sleepy. Sitting in chairs next to each other, the ladies start working on our fingernails. This is a different type of relaxing. Less radical than my feet.

  “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

  “I think I’m too tired to be here. I wish I could nap now.” I laugh, it’s discreet. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

  “Stop thanking me. I love spending time with my best friend.”

  After my nails are painted red and dry, we go to a small café to eat. By this point I’m famished and exhausted. On a normal day, by this time I’ve curled up in my blanket and am ready to pass out.

  “How’s work?”

  My job isn’t the most exciting thing to talk about. “Well, it’s okay. The hotel is doing great so we have many rooms to take care of. There isn’t much to say about it.” I chuckle. “What about you?”

  “I’m still teaching first grade. I love it. I think they like me, too, so I’m blessed.”

  Her first days as a teacher were rough. She struggled to enforce her authority, and had the perfect little boy in her class defying her. She cried so many times.

  Without hesitation, I respond, “Of course, they love you. Brock loved you. You have that in you.” Though I sound emotional, I’m nowhere near crying.

  “Brock was a great little boy,” she answers as her eyes lock with mine. “You are a good mother, Adele. I hope you’ll have the joy of caring for a child again.”

  “Who knows?” I say, praying in silence that somehow, someday I will have a family again. Not every day do I think this way. Some days I don’t out of fear of being hurt again, and other days, I miss the feeling of having a family. “What about you? Are you thinking about having a baby anytime soon?”

  “We’re ready, and trying,” she admits with a beaming smile.

  I stand from my chair and step closer to my friend, enveloping her in my arms. “It’ll happen. You guys deserve it so much.”

  “We sure hope so.” Her smile is radiant. “Do you have any plans for the weekend?” she asks, changing the subject to something lighter.

  “Tomorrow is my last day before a two day break. I’ll probably run errands. Nothing exciting. You?”

  “Pretty much the same thing, but Jimmy is having friends over for dinner. You can come if you want. You know, to keep me company, and to keep a high level of estrogen in the house.”

  “Yeah, I’ll come over.” Her house always smells good and keeps me warm. It reminds me of the home I had. Each time I go, that feeling of safety and love hits me.

  “Great.” Her voice shows how excited she is.

  Later, back in my small, lonesome place, I groan. It’s safe and warm most days, but it isn’t me. It’s missing that homey ambiance I once loved so much which makes it feel cold and empty.

  What if I move and start over again? What if I decorate it more?

  I have to do something, but first I have to get to bed, because tomorrow’s Friday and I have to be at work early.

  ***

  After a steamy, hot shower, I get dressed and apply lip gloss and mascara, same as last night. Small things, but they’d made me feel prettier. I hold my breath and try to imagine myself thinner. Maybe someday I’ll find my small waist again, but right now I should accept how I am. Deep down, I’m not ready to go on a diet and start exercising. I want to, but I’m too tired and drained of all emotions.

  My drive to work is quick since the traffic is light. I’m in a good mood and feeling capable of achieving a lot today. Considering I haven’t had a chance to have any coffee yet, feeling this alive is an unexpected positive start to a beautiful Friday. After stopping by my favorite coffee place, I park in the employee lot and sip on the tasty drink. My budget allows for one of these delicious treats once a week, but today is extra special. Humming a Katy Perry song, I walk inside the hotel, determined to have a good day at work.

  “Good morning, Adele. Wow, you look gorgeous.” Ronny says it so loud everyone around us turns my way.

  Rolling my eyes like a teenager, I try not to think about the fact my cheeks are doubtless turning red. “Thank you,
Ronny.” I give her a quick hug. “Last one before the weekend.”

  “Yeah, but I work tomorrow,” she complains.

  “Sorry about that. It’ll be my turn next weekend.”

  We have a quick chat before splitting off in opposite directions, me ensuring my cleaning cart is loaded before leaving the main supply room. Drinking the last of my coffee, I drop the cup in the trash then run by my locker to leave my purse, where I find a white envelope with the hotel logo embossed on it. My fingers tremble as I open it and start reading the letter.

  A raise. I’ve been given an extra dollar and a half an hour. Today is a great day. Oh, my God. I’m on the verge of crying with happiness. It’s not much but it’ll make a difference. “Thank you,” I say out loud looking up.

  Today I can face anything. Nothing will stop me. Joy is in my heart, my smile, and everywhere I am. Room after room I make the beds, clean the bathrooms, and everything in between. All I think about is my new salary and dinner with Vanessa tomorrow. Without much going on in my life, every little thing counts.

  Pushing open the last door of the day, I hear what sounds like vomiting coming from the bathroom. Shit. Should I stay or should I go? “Dammit,” I whisper to myself, then louder, call out, “Cleaning service,” warning the person of my presence. “Are you okay in there?”

  “No,” a low voice comes from the bathroom.

  “Do you want me to come back later?”

  “No, please. Do you have a clean towel?”

  “Are you dressed?” Why did I ask that? I find two clean towels on my cart. “I’ll leave them on the bed,” I offer. Pushing my cart back toward the hall, I feel like an invader. Besides, I’m not sure I can endure the vomit smell any longer.

  “Wait… it’s you again, isn’t it?”

  This time I recognize the voice. That man. I turn around with a shy smile. “It is.”

  Chapter 4

  He waves, and I wave back, chuckling. “I’m sorry, but you don’t look well.”

  Wiping a wet cloth over his face, he shakes his head. “Food poisoning, I think. I had sushi last night, and ever since, I’ve been throwing up.”

  “No wonder I never eat raw fish.” I step closer to him and take his temperature with the back of my hand. “You’re hot. I mean, warm. I think you are running a fever. You should rest in bed.”

  He nods, laughing at me. “You think I’m hot?”

  “It depends what sense of the word you are referring to.”

  “Both, ma’am.”

  “Adele, call me Adele.”

  I know better than to get too cordial with customers at work, but I feel like I know him. It’s too easy to forget about formal manners when I’m around him, and plus, he’s sick. Like, without a doubt, in pain and ill. His eyes are red, and so are his cheeks.

  Probably running a fever, he wipes the sweat from his forehead with his arm. “I’m Mason.”

  When he offers me his hand, I hope it isn’t a virus because I’m a hundred percent sure I don’t want to catch it. Are we in a business meeting? I don’t know, this feels awkward. To my surprise, he kisses the top of my hand while our eyes are locked in a gaze. So odd, but sweet at the same time.

  “Now that we’ve introduced ourselves, I think you should get back to bed. I’ll bring the trash bin nearby in case you get sick again.” It kicks right in, my instinct to care for someone. The mother and wife in me are right there, ready to make sure this stranger is feeling okay. I adjust his pillow, tuck him in, and tidy a few things around the room.

  “Do you mind if I open the window? Let some fresh air in this room.”

  “Yeah, it must smell terrible in here. I’ve been vomiting like this for over an hour. I hurt in all kind of places right now.” Yawning, he covers his mouth with his hand. “I’m sorry for taking so much of your time.”

  “No worries, this was my last room for the day.”

  He winces and rubs his temple. “You saved the best for last.”

  “I had no idea you were here, but I’m glad I can help you. Do you want me to run to the drugstore to get you something to ease your illness?”

  “I think I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

  There is a moment of silence where I don’t know what to say. “I’ll take care of the bathroom before I go.”

  “Tell me, did you relax the other day when I told you to go home?”

  He remembers. Well, of course he does, unless he has short term memory loss. I’m glad he brought it up, though. “I did. I slept the whole day. It meant a great deal.” A thought flashes in my mind. If he’s here, then he’s here for work, so what happens now that he’s sick? “Do you want me to call your boss and let him know you’re too sick to work?”

  The sound of his laughter startles me. “I am the boss, so you don’t have to worry about me. I just hate that I can’t meet with my clients today.” A loud sigh escapes his mouth. “It’s a waste of time to be here in bed.”

  “You know what they say. Everything happens for a reason… maybe you needed a day off. Who knows?”

  He winces then swallows with difficulty. “Maybe I needed this, here.”

  “I’m sorry, I should let you rest.” Where is my mind? The poor man needs sleep in order to get better. He doesn’t need my rambling. Wait, what does he mean by “this”? Me? “I’ll be done in five minutes.” I’m a married woman. Shit! I was married, I’m a widow. Hiding in the bathroom, it’s impossible to fight the tears. I’ve never been in a situation like this. Does he find me attractive? Doubt invades my mind. I’m not who I used to be. I’m a big girl now; men don’t like that.

  Just give him an extra towel, make sure he’s alive and breathing when you leave, and be done with it, I repeat in my mind knowing I have to get of here.

  There’s vomit splattered around the toilet bowl. Now this, I hate. It makes me sick to my stomach. Holding my breath and looking as little as possible, I clean as fast as I can using more paper towels than needed. Being near vomit is like a direct dial to make me throw up, too. I grab my water bottle from my cart, but knock the cleaning bottles to the floor by accident. It makes too much noise. I grab everything and finish my job.

  Ten minutes later, I leave the bathroom and head to the window I’d opened earlier. After closing it, I sense a wall behind me. My first instinct is to turn around and face him, but I’m less than an inch away from his chest. There’s a shadow of his cologne in the air and it gives me goosebumps.

  “Mason,” I murmur, nervous.

  “Adele.” Both of his hands grab my arms. He’s holding me hostage; I can’t leave. “Just relax, please. What I meant is, maybe we were meant to meet again. I’m happy I’ve gotten to see you again anyway.”

  I hold my breath because I don’t know what to say. “It’s good to see you again, too. Although I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well.”

  “Why are you so… cold? Formal? I’m not going to hurt you, Adele.” He releases me.

  “I know. I just… with my past. It’s still fresh in my mind, I’m not sure I’m ready for… this.” What for? “Ready for this. You know, feeling happy when I see another man.”

  “Everyone’s allowed to be happy, Adele. You just need to let your heart and head be.”

  “Easy to say. I stood there, outside in the cold, while my husband and son were dying, or maybe they were already dead. I’ll never know.” The words sound harsh but he has to understand I don’t play games or ask for pity. I lost my family, and while I dream of having another one someday, knowing how it feels to lose everything also has me scared. I haven’t figured out if I’m willing to go through that again.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so heartless. You’re a beautiful woman, Adele. With time, I hope you will be able to see for yourself that you are allowed to be happy.”

  Some men would say this to get me in bed, but not him. Mason isn’t that kind of man, or at least he doesn’t feel like one. “Time is all I’m counting on right now.”

  “Too bad I don�
�t feel good or I would take you for a coffee, or to dinner.”

  My eyes drop to the floor because I’m not even certain I’m okay with that.

  “No attachment, as friends if you’d prefer.”

  “It would be easier for me, right now… anyway.” I hate that I sound so insecure and uncertain. At this point in my life, I doubt I’ll ever be able to be with another man. “You should go back to bed now. You need to sleep. Maid’s orders.”

  He smiles and wraps his arms around my shoulder. “Thank you.”

  Before pushing my cart out of his room, I nod and wave goodbye while trying to hide the fact that my heart is having a hard time dealing with this situation. My whole body is going through a moment. It feels like an adrenaline rush. What is this? The excitement within me is soon replaced by guilt. Rushing to the employee room, my cart needs to be filled with cleaning supplies as asked by my supervisor. Without wasting any more time, my chores are completed and freedom is mine. Rushing outside to my car, the fresh mid-afternoon air takes my breath away. Once I’m sitting inside, I take few minutes to breathe and go through the events of the last hour.

  “It’s okay, Adele,” I assure myself I’ve done nothing. “Nothing wrong.”

  Driving to the grocery store helps me shake most of the troubled thoughts away. Still distracted by the feelings I had around Mason, I walk down the different aisles of the store picking up the few things I’ll need for the next couple of days. I try to think about a meal plan, but can’t. Something happened today with that man. I think it’s a good thing, but it scares me so much I forget to breathe. I forget everything around him.

  Unpacking my multiple bags at home, my thoughts take me away again, although I’m trying hard not to let that happen. I saw him once, and then a second time, but doubt I will ever see him again. What are the chances? Close to none, I bet.

  My eyes divert to the last family picture we had done at a studio. My mother had made me duplicates of all the pictures she had of us, since mine were lost. Burned. Them. I miss them. My thoughts should be with them all the time. “You are allowed to live again,” Vanessa has said to me before, more than once. The thing with that is I will only allow myself to live again once I’ve accepted and forgiven my past. I’m not quite there yet.