Chapter 9
Nine
After a day full of events, I finally convinced Melonie to let me retire. We’d been to brunch, to the hair salon for blowouts, and to see a movie. I was pooped! When I slid the fob across the rental that I’d be claiming for the weekend, my feet rejoiced.
A sharp gasp was followed by widened eyes and a grateful heart. This is beautiful , I cheered, inwardly, thinking of all the rest I’d be getting while in such an immaculate space. Everything was perfect and looked every bit professionally designed - from the architect to the decor. It was stunning. Wow .
All of a sudden, the threads poking from my bag stuck out like sore thumbs and the backpack that I wore didn’t seem to belong. In an instant, I’d removed all my clothes from it and locked it away in the coat closet near the door. With my clothes and toiletry pouch in my hands, I walked the length of the loft. There was a staircase that led to a large space that was topped with a glass vaulted ceiling. I knew - even from below - that it was where I’d spend most of my time, with my Tropical Paradise candle from Scent from Heaven serving as my guiding light.
Because although there wasn’t water, sand, palm trees, or a beach, this for me was paradise. After so many nights in the hills, dreaming of the day that I could rest my head in one of the homes, I was here. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave me a view that my little heart wasn’t prepared for, sending hot, wet tears running down my cheeks. I didn’t care that it was only mine for the weekend. The fact that it was mine at all was enough.
Bzzzzz.
My phone vibrated, still silenced from the movie theatre. I quickly dug into my pocket and retrieved it. I’d forgotten to call Melonie. I promised her I would once I made it safely. They’d gone above and beyond for me and I couldn’t wait to show my gratitude.
To my surprise, it wasn’t Melonie attempting to contact me. Instead, it was a number that I didn’t recognize sending a text. Before unlocking my cell, I contemplated allowing the message to sit a while longer. It could’ve been anyone, starting with the possibility of my mother though I highly doubted it. Curiosity had me in a chokehold, leaving me without any choice but to open the message.
Happy Birthday. It read. Nothing more. My heart twinged as I combed my brain trying to identify the number. I couldn’t.
With a shrug, I continued my tour of the beautiful property, ending in the bedroom which was gorgeous. My cheeks burned and eyes perspired at the sight of two green bags, exactly like the ones Mrs. Frank had received at her party, sitting on the perfectly made bed. Without hesitation, I rushed toward them in anticipation of removing their contents. And, when I did, I wanted to faint.
A blush-colored bucket bag with two Gs was underneath the ribbons and excellent packaging of the larger bag. The second bag, under the same perfect packing was two belts with double Gs, one white and the other black. In addition, was a pair of jelly sandals that were full of stones and trinkets.
“Oh my God, Melonie! Your family is the best,” I cried, hugging a green box to my chest.
The sound of thunderous knocks at the door startled me, forcing me from the emotional pit I was slowly slipping into. I hurried to my feet and headed for the door, expecting to find my sneaky friend on the other side. Behind the door stood three women with a large wagon in tow. Before I could find the words to express my concerns, they pushed their way inside and began to set up their equipment.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure who you guys are,” I finally made out.
“We’re here for your facial, massage, and wax,” the one closest to me turned around and revealed. “On the table, please. Remove your clothes.” It was apparent that they didn’t speak much English, which was fine with me. I preferred minimum conversation when serviced at any capacity. My social anxiety was set up that way.
Oh, Melonie . More tears fell as I began undressing in front of complete strangers. Every ugly cry I’d experienced had been from the weight of the world weighing so heavily on me. This time, though, things were different. It was utter joy that filled me to the brim and had me bursting at the seams.
Naked with tears running down toward my chest, I laid on the table that was stretched out for me. I closed my eyes, allowing the warm, heavy hands of one of my guests to go to work on the kinks and knots that were all up and down my body. This fat couldn’t get any better. It wasn’t long before sleep discovered me and I found myself snoring. I remained stiff as a log until I felt my legs being pried open and pushed upward. My eyes popped open and my head lifted. The cucumbers that were on top of them fell onto my cheeks.
“Relax. Relax. It’s time for your wax,” the woman positioning me explained.
Nodding, I rested my head on the small pillow beneath me, again. Brace yourself , I warned, feeling the hot wax on my skin. Melonie had taken me to the spa with her once for waxing and I was in no hurry to return. It was an extremely painful process, but the results were phenomenal.
The nap I’d taken during my hour-long massage had me well-rested. I walked into the bedroom after letting the women out and it wasn’t until then that I remembered to call Melonie. As I accessed the contacts, I patted my face, unable to stop raving about its softness. Though I’d slept through it, the facial had set me right. My skin had never felt so supple and smooth.
Melonie answered on the third ring, halfway out of breath. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what she’d gotten into for the night. I chuckled at the thought, deciding I’d simply thank her for everything and call her in the morning.
“Yeah?” She grunted.
“I see you’re a bit occupied, so I will call you in the morning. I just wanted to thank you for everything. The gifts, massage, and wax although you know I hate them. Oh, and the bomb facial, friend!” I exclaimed.
“Brisk,” Melonie moaned in my ear, making me cringe, “I don’t know what you’re talking about babe. I… We didn’t arrange any of that.” She informed me as I walked into the bathroom, where the stint of my reality slapped me across the face.
There it was. That scent. That cologne that I was unable to shake for the last two weeks. It was here, in the bathroom.
“Melonie, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, babe. I was only joking,” I lied. Ugh, another one .
“Ummm. hmmmm.”
I opened every cabinet in sight until I stumbled across the one that housed a small collection of fragrances. I uncapped each one of them, finally settling on the last one as the method to the madness I’d faced for the last few weeks. As I inhaled, everything began to make sense for me.
The loft.
The richness of the space.
The gifts.
The services.
And, the text message. I thought, immediately running back to the bedroom with my cell in my hand. On the bed, I brought my legs to my chest in contemplation. Gratitude wouldn’t allow me to lay down without giving thanks, and that thought alone had me gnawing at my bottom lip.
Before I overworked my brain for the subject, I went to the messaging app on my cell and dialed the number of the last person who’d text me. At the first ring, I considered hanging up. By the second ring, I thought I’d puke. On the third ring, I was convinced that ending the call was in my best interest.
“Happy birthday,” sexiness oozed through the line as he spoke.
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I didn’t.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say much, but I do need a favor from you. I need you to head to the closet. It’s monstrous and hard for you to miss.”
I stood in search of the closet. Once I found it, I stood in front of it.
“Open it,” he instructed, sensing my location, “And you will find something special inside.”
I did. I found so many things, all numbered and neatly lined in the massive closet.
“It’s twenty of them,” he read my thoughts, “Each to celebrate a year of life for you. For every year you deemed your birthday unworthy, I’d like to change your mind. Because it is, in fact, a big fucking deal.”
“Why are you doing this for me?”
“Because you deserve it and because I wanted to,” he responded.
“I thought you weren’t interested,” I disclosed.
“You shouldn’t think like that.”
Silence fell between us.
“Did you enjoy your massage?”
“I did.”
“Is there anything else I can do to make this day special for you?” he asked.
“I’d like to see you again,” I spat before I was able to stop the words from coming out.
I waited for a response but was met with silence. At that moment, I wanted to kick my own butt for jumping the gun. Closing my eyes, I waited for something in return. Anything. After so long, I pulled the phone from my ear to see that he’d ended the call.
“Maybe that was too soon,” I shook my head and started toward the shower.
The walk of shame shouldn’t have existed being that I was alone, but being on the receiving end of rejection hit the same regardless. It was hard believing anything Bello said when his actions beyond the thoughtfulness of the gifts were questionable. Maybe his phone died , I reasoned as I turned the dial to startup and heat the water that poured from the ceiling of the shower. To save my blowout, I’d definitely need my bonnet and a prayer to accompany it.
Stepping into the shower, I felt the relief melt into the tiled flooring. If I was going to get any sleep then it had to start with freshening up. I could only pray that thoughts of Bello didn’t keep me awake longer than they should’ve. My sole reason for wanting a weekend to myself was so that I could rest. It would be a shame if I didn’t get any.
“No hablará de mí, ni hablará de esto. Lo que él quiere de ti, yo no se lo negaría. Si esto no me ha partío', ya no me partiré nunca. Si puedo soportar lo que siento, ?por qué me 'toy cayendo? You stood me up, you lay me down. You know too much, I can't be proud. I still really, really love you, yes, I do,” I recited the words of Cayendo from memory as the water cascaded on my brown skin. “When I still really, really love you, like I do. If you won't, then I will. If you can't, then. I will. Is it love to keep it from you?”