“Andee!”
I looked up from my book and saw a lithe brunette waving at me. Her smile was the best thing I’d seen all day. And even though she was thirty minutes late, and I’d had to rely on Mr. Long legs – again – to help me with my bags, I was glad to see her.
I put my book away, stood, and stretched. Before I could walk towards her, she waltzed across the room and gave me a hug. I smelled jasmine on her hair.
“So you’re in a sultry mood today?” I asked.
“I guess.”
“Well, if you weren’t, you would have worn your rose perfume.”
Melody just laughed - a light, lyrical laugh. The kind of laugh that fits Melody.
It was good to be home.
“I thought you were coming for a couple of days,” she said. “Why all the luggage?”
“I was able to finagle a week out of my mother.”
Melody grabbed one bag, I grabbed the other and we walked to the elevators.
When we reached level six and walked into the parking garage, I was hit by a blast of Phoenix heat. Even though I grew up here, it’s always a shock when it first hits me. I guess it’s because I’ve lived in Chicago for five years. Maybe I’d finally thaw out from the last winter.
Melody flung my suitcases into the back seat of her sports car. “So how did you get a week out of Cassandra?”
I buckled my seatbelt. “It wasn’t easy, but I told her she owed me some vacation time.”
Melody started the car and shook her head. “She owes you more than a week.”
A twinge of guilt hit me. “She’s in the middle of planning a wedding for some big wig banker. I shouldn’t have left her-”
“Yes – you should have.”
“You know I can’t leave her for long.”
Melody turned to me and gave me one of her disapproving scowls. This time I wasn’t in the mood to comment. “How’s Gram?” I asked.
“Nice try.”
“Mel… not now. I didn’t have the easiest flight from Chicago.”
“Did you get sick again?”
I adjusted the a.c. blower so all of the air would hit my face.
“You really have to get another job,” she said. “You can’t keep flying.”
I gave her a tired smile. She turned her attention back to the road and I looked out my window, just in time to see a flock of white herons fly over the freeway. It still surprised me to see herons in the city, but they were headed to a man made lake. At least it broke up the scenery.
“So what happened on the plane?” she asked.
I sighed and relayed every embarrassing moment.
“Ew. Was he angry?”
“No. he laughed when I offered to pay for his jeans.”
“Was he good looking?”
“He had a ponytail and tattoos.”
Melody let out a sultry growl. “Sounds like my type.”
“Well, if I ever see him again” – which I prayed would never happen – “I’ll tell him to call you.”
Twenty minutes later, Melody turned onto Gram’s street. It was like a mid-western neighborhood had been picked up by aliens and planted in a desert suburb. Towering oaks guarded the street. Flowering shrubs peeked over the picket fences that outlined each manicured lawn. Time hadn’t touched this street and I felt the first hint of relief in that crazy day.
When Melody pulled into Gram’s driveway, a pale pink Queen Anne house welcomed me with open arms. Everything about it, from its white gingerbread trim and two story porch to its gray scalloped shingles and gabled entryway told me I was home. By the time Melody had turned off the ignition, Gram had opened my door and was reaching in to give me a hug of her own.
“How was your trip?” she asked.
“Andee had a hard day,” Melody said.
“Got sick on the plane?” Gram asked.
Yes. This is my life. Everyone knows about me and my bodily functions.
We all grabbed the luggage and walked into the house. Melody took a couple of bags up the walnut staircase and I walked into the front sitting room, a study of the ironic. I could imagine a lady from the 1900's sitting at the secretary to write letters. Now it housed Gram’s laptop, an iPod, books about writing and a digital camera. The floral settee where the lady might have entertained her guests was covered with Gramps” crossword puzzles, a couple of velvet pillows and one very large black cat.
I scooped the cat into my arms and pushed aside the paper so I could sit down. Rascal purred and nuzzled into my chest. I took a deep breath and let the familiar smells calm my still jittery nerves. Green beans. Pot roast. Chocolate cake. Good thing I didn’t have to watch the calories. I was on vacation.
Gram handed me a frosty glass of lemonade. I took a few sips and let out another content sigh.
“So, Cassandra let you have more than two days?” Gram finally asked.
“Something like that.”
“I’m surprised.”
I stroked Rascal's back. Without warning, he leaped to the floor with a flick of his tail and sauntered into the kitchen. “I think he gets bigger every time I see him.”
“More cantankerous anyway,” said Gram. “Kind of like Gramps.”
“Where is Gramps?” I asked.
“Bowling with his friends. He wouldn’t change his plans, even when I told him you were coming.”
“That’s all right. I think I need a nap anyway.”
When I reached my room, my brain did another walk down memory lane. I sat on the rose duvet and took in another deep breath. Gram hadn’t changed anything in this room. One of my porcelain dolls still sat on a gracefully curved chair in the corner. Lacy rose curtains hung in the dormer window. A bedside table still held an old fashioned lamp, sitting on a lace doily. It also held a Hershey’s Kiss from Gramps, which I quickly unwrapped and popped in my mouth.
Just before I pulled the duvet over my shoulders, I realized I hadn’t turned on my cell phone. Part of me wished I could leave it off for the whole week, but I knew Mother would need my help planning the wedding for Mr. big wig, so I reached for my purse.
It was gone.
Ok, Andee. Don’t panic. It’s got to be here somewhere.
I searched the room. It wasn’t here. I knocked on Melody’s door and asked if she’d brought it up. She didn’t remember seeing it. I raced downstairs and looked in the sitting room and entryway.
Nothing.
Then I remembered that I’d dropped it while I was trying to wrestle my luggage off of the conveyor belt. Mr. Long legs had picked it up - and he’d forgotten to give it back.
My mother was going to have a fit.
(For chapter 3 ... you'll have to wait until I publish it.)
