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Suzette
Suzette popped a dusty orange triangle into her mouth and crunched happily. Her fingers poked back into the shiny red bag and fished out two more. Sandwiching them together, she broke one down the middle reducing their stacked height to ensure that they would both fit neatly into her mouth. It’s really true, she thought. It’s just like the commercial says, you can’t eat just one. Only in my case it’s more like you can’t eat just one…bag! She smiled inwardly at her cleverness and let her fingers dive back into the bag.
Suzette stood smack dab in the middle of the bedroom that she had shared with her husband Tony for the past twenty years. They had lived out various stages of their life’s drama right here in this room. Twenty years could take a toll on a body and a room. The faded curtains, crumbling paint on the windowsills and the dusty family portraits lining the walls and the tops of the dressers all stood testament to the passage of time. Suzette glanced at a photo of her and Tony taken on one of their first dates. God, she was so skinny then, and he was quite handsome. She could see how the younger version of herself would have fallen for his dark, rugged good looks. Next to the framed photo of the young Suzette and Tony stood the most recent family portrait. The juxtaposition of these two photos was a complete accident that created the effect of a fast-forward glimpse into their future. In the recent photo Suzette and Tony peered out from behind their two teenage children who were seated in front of them. Why did portrait photographers seem to prefer this stance? It made Suzette feel as if the photographers understood that once children were in the picture, the lives of the mother and father were forever relegated to the backseat. Even the distance the photographer had placed between her and Tony spoke volumes about their present state. Distance. She could see it in Tony’s eyes as he stared at her from out of the photo. The happy-go-lucky expression from their youth was replaced with a darkness, a sadness that Suzette couldn’t put her finger on. Was it anger, resentment, boredom? Well, Suzette had felt all those emotions and more during her twenty years of marriage. Suzette studied the image of herself in the portrait - the lines on her face, the double chin, the contours of her expanding, rounded hips showing from underneath the Christmas sweater that she had worn for their annual holiday picture. Suzette couldn’t believe that time had stolen so much from her – a solid belief in the possibilities of the future, a carefree happiness, and mostly, her young, lithe body that used to give her such pleasure. Yes, all of those things were gone, replaced with a heaviness that had manifested itself into the bulky curves and rounded folds now covering every inch of her frame. Where did my joy go? Suzette contemplated the faces of her son and daughter. They looked much more like the Tony and Suzette in the before-marriage picture. Her kids were happy. Suzette smiled. Thank God for her kids.
Suzette plunged her hand back into the red bag and extracted a lone chip. She popped it into her mouth and crunched loudly. There was so much freedom in being able to crunch in solitude. There was no one to hear you and glare accusingly at your noisiness, no one to witness your sheer indulgence, allowing for a guilt-free chomping session. As Suzette munched, she gazed around her room and wondered how she ended up here. She was in the middle of her life with nothing but a middle of the road career, a faded and crumbling home and a marriage that was as equally non-descript. Her marriage was so much like this home, this very room – it had a solid foundation, but all around the edges it was falling into disrepair. It was faded, dusty and in desperate need of some patching up – generally succumbing to an overall, damaging neglect.
Suzette went back in for a final chip and then licked the spicy, rust colored remnants off of her fingers and wiped them clean on the tops of her jeans. Suzette was packing her work clothes and didn’t want to stain them. Her company was sending her to Florida for a work conference. She’d be gone for a whole week. It wasn’t often that she’d get a chance to travel and the prospect of five whole days and evenings all to herself was thrilling. As Suzette moved around the room stuffing this and that into her luggage, she spied an upside down penny on the floor. It was laying right at the end of her bed, just visible from under the drape of her threadbare cabbage rose bedspread. Suzette had always been a bit superstitious. When she was much younger, she’d pick up all the pennies she’d see - find a penny pick it up, all day long you’ll have good luck. Suzette believed this and would happily pick up every penny that she’d happen across. Then one day one of Tony’s elder aunts told Suzette that the upside down pennies actually brought bad luck. Suzette didn’t believe it at first, but the next time she picked up an upside down penny, the words of Aunt Hilda stayed in her mind. The penny in her jeans pocket seemed to give off a heat all its own, but she kept it there, daring the bad luck to come – wanting to prove negative old Aunt Hilda wrong. However, it was Suzette who got the final word in superstition. Later that day little Joshua gashed himself on a rusty pipe in the yard. Suzette spent the better part of an evening in the emergency room. Ever since that fateful day, Suzette was a firm believer in the bad luck imparted on the person who picks up the unlucky penny. So, when she spied the Lincoln-memorial side of the penny peeking up at her, she looked quickly away and let the penny sit by the foot of her bed. She was determined that this would be a good trip - she wasn’t going to let anything spoil it.
Going to her closet to choose her outfits, Suzette thought she’d try for a comfortable, sexy look for this trip. She’d bring her short skirt, her strappy, high-heeled sandals and her ruffled blouse. Now for the underwear – Suzette grabbed her black silky ones, the orange cotton pair and a few of her white granny panties, as her daughter referred to them. Then she spied her favorite of all sexy underwear - her lacy reds. They were hidden at the bottom of her drawer underneath a beige camisole, obviously not getting much use lately. She pulled them out and stuffed them into her bag. Maybe I’ll get lucky, she thought. Maybe there will be a handsome stranger on the flight in the seat next to me. We’ll fall madly in love and have a torrid love affair. Suzette imagined the scene. She would wear her lacy reds. The man would, of course, be extremely lovely - a tall, sexy man, like someone from a jockey underwear ad. He’d embrace her and kiss her passionately, sliding his hand down the smoothness of her back and over her rear-end clad in her skimpy, lacy red panties. Her large buttocks would hang out on either side; and he would be reaching, rubbing, stroking her roundness, the consistency of… oatmeal. Forget it. There was no way a handsome stranger would fall in love with her, much less want to sleep with her.
Suzette reached again for a couple of chips and chewed thoughtfully. I suppose if I wanted more of a sex life I’d need to lay off the junk food. What the hell! Some days she felt as if nothing mattered anyway, so she might as well do what makes her happy. It was true. The bright red bag on the top of her dresser did make her happy, provided her some comfort. Suzette lifted the bag and was relieved to find that it was still three-quarters full. She started to feel anxious when the bag got closer to empty. She dreaded the final bites when there were only crumbs and salt and spices, and she’d be left to lick her fingers until the bag was wiped clean down to the very bottom of the slick silver foil. There is nothing sadder than an empty chip bag when you still have the munchies, thought Suzette. She’d stopped by the Park n’ Shop yesterday to pick-up a few bags for her trip. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get to the store, or if they even carried her particular brand of cheesy chips all the way over there in Florida.
Suzette was leaving early the next morning. It would take her all day to get across the country. While she was vaguely worried about the kids, she knew they were old enough to take care of themselves. Josh and Alena were self-absorbed teenagers. She was fairly sure they’d hardly notice she was gone. As for Tony, Suzette was relishing a peaceful week away from his moods and tempers. She supposed that Tony wouldn’t really miss her either. In fact, he might also be looking forward to the break from her. She knew that she could be hard on Tony, and it probably wasn’t easy to live
with an overweight, hard-to-please woman such as herself. Well, she’d show him. She’d have a wild, passionate love affair and finally put some spice back into her life. Thinking of spice, Suzette popped a triple stack of cheesy chips into her mouth.
The plane ride and the first few days of the conference were completely uneventful, if not utterly boring. Suzette sat in the meetings trying to pay attention to the topics. She made very few comments, finding she was totally unengaged in the subject matter. Her thoughts kept drifting to the shiny red bag in her satchel. When she finally couldn’t take the boredom and the gnawing hunger in her belly any longer, she reached for the bag, drawing it out of its dark hiding place. Slowly, very slowly, she’d tug on the seams dreading the loud squeak when the opening would finally appear. The inevitable final rip was like a thunderclap in the room. Several heads turned to look for the source of the noise. The blond woman in front of Suzette frowned at her in disapproval. Go ahead and frown skinny bitch. You’re just jealous because I can eat cheesy chips and you can’t. Suzette snuck a chip slowly, being careful not to rumple the bag or crackle too much. She concentrated on chewing as quietly as possible. Suzette reached for another and tried to pop it daintily into her mouth. Just then the session ended and the room started to clear. A tall, graying man in a forest green polo shirt and pressed khaki pants approached her.
“Are you Suzette Bertoli from the San Francisco office?” he said genially putting his hand out to shake hers.
“Yes,” replied Suzette through a mouthful of chips. As she reached out her hand, she remembered the orange goo on her fingers.
“I’m John Francis. I’m out of the Dallas office. I’m interested in the asset management project that your team put together last October.”
Suzette smiled before she could clear her mouth of the orange spices and her hand flew to cover her teeth in alarm.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I get so hungry in these meetings. They keep us sitting for hours straight.” Suzette took a better look at the man. He was roughly her age, handsome with full lips, dark eyes and heavy eyebrows. He was thick around the middle and balding a bit, but pleasantly so. Suzette saw him wipe his hand discreetly on the top of his pant leg. Darn, he got some cheesy dust. She cringed in embarrassment.
“Yes, I was on the team that worked that project.” She finally managed to reply. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed him before. His name didn’t ring a bell.
“Don’t be modest, Suzette. I saw your name on those reports. That was some impressive work. I wonder if I could ask you a few questions?”
“Of course. Let’s go outside. I hate being cooped up indoors all day. When I fly all the way to Florida, I need to enjoy the muggy Florida air, and at least pretend I’m enjoying my trip.”
They stepped outside and talked a bit before the session reconvened. Suzette could tell he was interested in the subject matter, but in her paranoid state of mind, she imagined he was disgusted by the bulk of her body. He probably noticed the way her fat chest was exposed by the buttons on her blouse strained and stretched leaving gaping holes for the skin of her fat breasts to show through. Perhaps he also noticed the orangey salt prints on the cuff of her navy blazer.
Later that evening when the group assembled for dinner and drinks, she noticed John hanging around a younger girl from her office. Jeannette was short and busty with badly bleached blond hair. She smoked and drank and wore too much black eyeliner. She was also loud and vulgar. Suzette was baffled by the amount of men that would crowd around Jeannette. Even those men she thought were the shy intellectual types were on Jeannette like flies on poop. Suzette had always found Jeannette to be hard-edged and crude in an unfeminine way. Who knows, thought Suzette, maybe that’s what men like these days.
Each evening Suzette would join the group at the bar. She would smile into her chardonnay and contribute to the small talk and jokes when she could. Inevitably, Jeannette would take her scotch and cigarettes outside to the patio and a whole cadre of men would follow. Suzette would be stuck alone on a bar stool with a few other older women. She’d share a bit of polite conversation and then head back to her room. The next morning she’d hear all about the group’s escapades. They’d go to the karaoke bar until it closed, then they’d end up jumping into the pool at two a.m. Or they’d have drinks on the beach and then watch the sun come up from the all night pancake house. No doubt Jeannette was the center of attention the whole time. Suzette wondered why these midnight drinking adventures didn’t even appeal to her. Had she lost her sense of fun? Oh, yeah, she remembered – she was old.
Suzette sat on her hotel bed watching the ten o’clock news, eating one chip after another and wiping her fingers on her filmy black nightgown. She sighed. Had she come all the way to Florida for this? Maybe it was the work of the unlucky penny. She had always been unlucky. How did these things happen to her? Or, more accurately, how did nothing ever seem to happen to her? Tomorrow was the last day of the conference and she was determined to make the most out of her last night.
Suzette knew she was fooling herself. She knew that a spicy love affair or an exciting adventure were just productions of her overactive imagination. The truth was, she was as solid, staid and predictable as her bulky, stalwart figure suggested. Suzette would never choose a night of partying and boozing over towing the line and doing what was considered right, what was expected of her. After all, it was what she’d always done. When her mother left town for weeks on end leaving an eleven-year-old Suzette to care for her younger brother and sister, she didn’t complain; she just did it. When her teachers suggested that she might pursue a career in accounting since she was good with numbers, Suzette studied finance; even though she knew her heart wasn’t in it – she’d rather have studied graphic arts. Her mother’s stern warning always in her ear, “Silk screening will never pay the bills.” When she met Tony, she never in a million years thought she’d marry him. She wanted someone poetic, romantic and outdoorsy. Tony was aggressive, business minded and well dressed. When Suzette got pregnant after six months of dating, she hardly gave it a second thought. It would be expected that she would marry Tony, and so she did. Now that she had reached middle age, it seemed that all the compromises, all the sacrifices she’d made in her life were stacking up like bricks, one by one so that she felt as if she carried a wall of burdens on her shoulders. She was full of regrets and disappointments. The unhappiness that she’d accumulated in every pore of her body was a constant companion to her now. It was something palpable, as if she could taste it. She knew it was crazy, but her unhappiness tasted incredibly like cheesy chips.
She knew it was time for a change. Just under the surface was a bolder, braver Suzette trying to break free. It was time she started doing what she wanted, following her heart, enjoying herself. Right now her heart was telling her that she wanted to go to the beach.
When the final session wrapped up the next day, Suzette rushed to her hotel room to check out. She felt thrilled and a little bit apprehensive as she contemplated her plan. She would leave the corporate hotel that her company booked for her and steal away to a little beachside resort. She didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Jeannette, John or the others. They weren’t interested in her so why should she worry about them? She packed quickly with a mounting determination. In the closet she found her sexy blue and white sundress. Peeling herself out of her office clothes and stuffing them into her luggage, she draped the sundress quickly over her head and pulled it snugly down her tummy, smoothing it over her backside. Slipping into her beach sandals, she sucked her breath in and stood to glance at herself in the mirror. If I suck my tummy in, I’m really not that bad, thought Suzette. She went to the oversized bathroom mirror and pulled her long, dark brown hair into a casual twist and pinned it up quickly with a bright yellow clip. She pulled a few strands of hair out of the clip and arranged them carefully to frame her face. The dark, wispy hair flattered her big, green eyes and high cheekbones. Suzette dabbed a bit of makeup on before pluck
ing her new sunglasses out of her bag and placing them on the top of her head. One last look at her sexy self in the mirror and she strode purposefully out the room, luggage in tow, slamming the door behind her.
This was it! She was actually doing it. Suzette drove her rental car into the parking lot of the gas station convenience store across from her hotel. She’d pick up a map and a few things to supply her adventure. Suzette grabbed a few bottles of water, found a cheap bottle of chardonnay and searched the shelves for snack items or other things she might need for her drive. When she spied the familiar shiny red packaging of her favorite brand of cheesy chips, Suzette felt an instant rush of familiarity, as if she had discovered a long lost friend. “No, I don’t need you this time.” Suzette said out loud as she touched her tummy feeling the snugness of her dress, and imagining a thinner, chip-free waist. Suzette turned on her heel, to enter another aisle, leaving her chips behind this time. She searched for the map rack and found it near the front corner of the store. While she browsed the stack of maps, searching for one specifically for the Daytona Beach area, she noticed an unlucky penny on the floor near the tip of her white beach sandal. In fact, her big toe with its red nail polish was nearly touching it. “Shit!” Suzette exclaimed under her breath as she kicked the penny with a small sharp jab and watched it skitter across the linoleum to finally land under the candy shelves, right between the snickers and the starbursts. I won’t let you ruin my trip. Bad luck or no, I am going to have a good time. She wandered around the store trying to ignore the red bag calling to her from the middle aisle. Oh, what the heck, she might get hungry. What if she couldn’t find a place to eat? She might just need a few little nibbles. She walked quickly to the snack aisle, grabbed a red bag off the shelf, and promptly announced herself at the cash register. She didn’t have to eat them. They were just in case.
Back in the car Suzette found a rock and roll station on the radio. It was amazing to her that the announcer called the Eagles’ Hotel California an “Oldie.” I guess that makes me an oldie too, thought Suzette. 80s rock and roll always made her feel a kind of reckless freedom. The music took her back to the days when she and her friends Jessica and Alison would cut school and go to the beach, or they would drive along the coast highway, radio blasting, feeling young and free and so certain of themselves. Those were the days before anything really bad had happened to them. Before Jessica had two divorces and three weddings finally ending up with a mastectomy and thyroid cancer, and before Alison’s husband had shot himself on Easter day in the basement of their home when their boys were only five and seven. But back then, when the three of them were only seventeen, the world was still new and they were all so trusting of the power of their youth and so certain of the successes they’d attain. How naive they were back then. Still, Suzette would give anything to feel reckless and carefree again.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. She still felt a bit fearful, the worry welling up inside her. The feeling reminded her of the time, early in her marriage, when she had had enough of Tony’s verbal abuse. She had finally realized that his anger and yelling were over the top; that she didn’t have to put up with his irrational insults and violent outbursts. That morning, more than eighteen years ago, Suzette had packed a few things and piled little Josh into the car. Intent on leaving Tony and her marriage for good by going somewhere he couldn’t find her, Suzette had ended up in a small town two hours North of the Bay Area. She was so sure that day, yet scared at the same time. She felt that feeling now. She wondered how different her life might have been, if she had just kept running, if she had hid from Tony and started a new life instead of chickening out and deciding to go back home the very next day.
Out the window, Suzette admired the scenery that was so different from the California countryside she was used to - the dry brown hills dotted with scrubby oaks, pines and redwoods, the cities that sprawled, clinging to the hillsides, surrounding the blue expanse of the San Francisco Bay. Florida was altogether different - a flat landscape that went on forever, without a single hill or promontory. The deep, forested fields of swampy greenness bordered by short, bushy palm trees dangling with lacy, grayish moss thrilled her. The blue sky laden with sporadic, ambling clouds lent a humid, tropical feeling to the air. Suzette had the window open and felt the warmth surround her, hug her, caress her.
As she drove, she planned the evening in her head. She’d find a hotel right on the water and ask for a room with a balcony over the beach. Suzette would unpack and open her bottle of wine. She’d sip the light, fruity chardonnay, lifting her glass in a toast to the Atlantic Ocean. Suzette would take a leisurely bath, shaving her legs and scrubbing her skin ‘til it glowed. She would dress for dinner, but slowly, taking in the view, enjoying the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach below. She’d wear her slinky black dress. The one with the deep, plunging neckline that exposed creamy white cleavage and clung flatteringly over her waist making her appear sleek and slim. She would rub baby oil over her smooth legs. She’d spread it over her belly too, over her bottom, and down the backside of her thighs. She wouldn’t bother with underwear tonight. Tonight she’d feel new and shiny as a lucky penny. She’d slip on her strappy sandals, the ones with the spiked heels. Suzette loved to see her legs looking long and luscious, her feet pointed in that tiptoe angle; the black patent leather criss-crossing her arch and the whole package culminating in her daintily painted red toes. Suzette would also straighten her long dark hair until it had a glow, like something liquid and flowing, spreading over her shoulders coming to rest lightly between her bare shoulder blades. Suzette could see herself in all her fresh-washed glory, strolling across the room, hips swinging, hair flowing. Her long, luxurious strides in their high-heeled splendor as she basked in the evening sun on the balcony, leaning over the edge and letting the wind play gently in her hair.
Suzette would wander, rather, sashay down to the bar. It would be quiet with the hushed voices of couples talking over their drinks. Light jazz would be playing in the candlelit darkness. The sound of ice clinking in glasses and an occasional giggle would come from the dark recesses of the room. Suzette would sit, her body illuminated by the candlelight. The magic of the lighting would cast a glow over her making her slimmer and younger. As she’d lean over the straw to take a sip of something sweet and strong, she’d look up and lock eyes with a fabulous stranger. He would be sitting in the corner, taking in the wonder of Suzette. Her green eyes and long brown hair, her black dress tracing the curves of her body, her breasts hanging over the table as she leans into her drink. He will be overcome with longing. They will smile at each other and Suzette will feel an instant attraction. She can tell by his sensitive, strong features that he is both poetic and romantic. He is tall, a handsome man, with wide shoulders and a strong, muscular chest. His graying hair is peppery, but thick. Not dropping her stare, he approaches her table and asks if he could join her. Suzette nods and lifts her hand, indicating the empty chair. They make small talk and smile at each other, sharing stories and drinks. Soon, his glances would linger a bit longer on her cleavage, and wander up to her lips. Suzette would notice his stare, his breathing getting harder, and before he even touched her she’d be on fire, a heat burning low in her belly. Her breath would quicken and she’d look up to see him sitting closer, his arm around her, resting on the back of her chair. They’d look into each other’s eyes and no words would need to be spoken. He’d lean in first, and Suzette would feel the magnetism and move as if in unison with his body. Her lips would softly part until she’d feel his kiss, a light tentative touch at first, until they begin to crush their lips together, overcome with a fiery passion.
“Where’s your room?” he would say in a voice hoarse with emotion.
“Upstairs,” she would murmur.
“Let’s go,” and he’d pull her by the hand, Suzette would feel at once feathery and made of rubber, as if her bones were made of solid steel giving way to a molten lava that would soon evaporate. The
y’d walk arm in arm to her room, his hand encircling her waist, and Suzette would feel beautiful, desirable, like she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager. Outside the door to her room, he’d turn, lean against the wall and draw her body into his. He’d grab her lower back and pull her closer, tighter. She’d melt right there and kiss him from his ear, his throat, and down to his chest while unbuttoning his shirt. He would take the key and let them into the room. They’d undress each other tenderly and he’d thrill to every curve of her body - her breasts, her belly, her thighs and calves. No place would go untouched. They would meld together wordlessly, with only moans of ecstasy punctuating their touching and stroking, until they finally fell into a sated, satisfied sleep.
In the morning they’d make coffee and watch the sun rise over the ocean. He wouldn’t talk about his PTA president wife in Cleveland or his job selling software applications to sanitation companies. They would simply bask in the glow of their recent lovemaking and both would feel that the other was absolutely perfect. They’d part without promises to see each other again. They’d simply be grateful for what they’d shared, a break from the routine, a chance to love unconditionally and without obligations, a shared fantasy for a single night, a moment in time that could not and would not ever exist in reality.
Suzette was lost in her imaginings and barely realized that the highway she’d been following had turned into a throughway and she was fast approaching a stoplight. She slammed on the brakes of the rental car and was instantly jolted out of her reverie. Narrowly missing the little red Nissan in front of her, Suzette realized that she was now entering the beachfront town she had located on the map. She followed the signs leading toward the downtown. She scanned the area for the hotel that she had so vividly imagined. Nothing resembled her imagination with the balcony over the beach and the swanky bar off the lobby. Suzette drove up and down the beach front road until she finally found a run-down motel just across the street from the row of fancy houses and timeshare units lining the beach. It wasn’t what she was expecting, but it had a certain charm. Pulling the car into the dirt and rocks of the parking lot at the back of the old motel, she noticed that it was actually just a home that had been divided into rooms. There were two or three rooms upstairs and four small units along the bottom floor. The place had been painted a gaudy peach trimmed in white. All around, the paint was peeling, the windowsills sagging, and roof tiles were hanging listlessly or missing altogether. Some efforts were made to add decorations that would lend to the beach charm of the place, but the fisherman signs and strewn shells managed to look more like castaways creating a neglected, abandoned feel. It was completely quiet as Suzette stepped from the car, and she wondered for a minute if it might actually be abandoned. The office was located on the lower level under an overhang, facing the road. The sign in the window said “open,” but when Suzette pulled on the doorknob, the door was locked, and wouldn’t budge. She peered through the dirt and stickers on the window and spied a small cluttered office desk bordered by a Chinese screen separating the office from a small living area. A ratty, gray-green overstuffed couch was situated along the wall. Suzette noticed a shadowy figure rise from the couch and approach the door. The door suddenly opened and Suzette stepped back as a woman emerged and said, “Hello, can I help you?” Suzette realized the office was also the woman’s living room. She had been watching T.V and folding towels, for the guests no doubt.
“Would you have a room for tonight?” Suzette asked hopefully.
“For how many people? Just one night?” the woman asked. She was as tall as Suzette, looking her square in the eye, with the most penetratingly clear blue eyes Suzette had ever seen. She was a good fifteen years older than Suzette with the weathered, tanned skin that was so common of the beach women of Florida.
“Just one, just me, just for tonight,” Suzette answered.
“Come in,” the woman finally said, stepping away from the door so Suzette could enter. Glancing over the register book that lay open on the desk, she lifted her head and swiped a drape of blond brown hair highlighted with generous streaks of silver off of her shoulder. “Room 15 is available. Would you like to see it?”
“Sure,” Suzette answered.
As she walked around the side of the building she chatted with Suzette.
“My name is Angelina. I’m the proprietor here. I think you’ll really like room 15. It’s on the corner, nice and quiet.” Angelina approached the door to the room and Suzette noticed a small chair set off to the side, pretending to be a front patio. A faded, peeling wind chime hung directly over it. To the left was a staircase leading to the upper-level.
“What do you think? Would you like to take it?”
Suzette stepped into the room. She loved it in an instant. While the outer façade of the hotel was neglected, the room was pristine with a charm that the exterior just couldn’t muster. A cheery bedspread adorned the bed in a deep turquoise shade that made Suzette think of deep water and cool breezes. The color was repeated in throw pillows that perched on an inviting loveseat and in a cloth that draped the small round table. The room was complete with a small kitchenette, lacy curtains adorned the window above the sink. Suzette was thrilled.
“Yes! I’ll take it. I love it.” She smiled at Angelina.
“Wonderful! Let’s get you set-up.” Suzette followed Angelina back to the office.
“The beach trail is directly across the street, there is a crab house restaurant just down the road, and I host a happy hour at five o’ clock right here at the office, if you’d like to join us.” Angelina smiled at Suzette. From behind her wrinkled skin and bright eyes, Suzette could see that Angelina was hoping for some human connection. It must be lonely living out of a motel office.
Suzette unpacked her bags in the sparkling room and felt a thrill of possibilities. She was still smiling to herself as she trudged back to the car for the plastic bag she’d filled at the convenience store. Back in the room she placed her water bottles, the chardonnay and the cheesy chips on the counter in the kitchenette. She was too excited to be hungry or thirsty. She took a look around. This room, this beach, this adventure, she was proud of herself for daring to do her own thing. A thought momentarily crossed her mind. What if I struck out on my own? I could live in a small apartment as cute as this, and always make my own decisions, live the way I want to live. The idea was titillating.
Suzette dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and flip-flops and made her way to the beach. The air was heavy and humid, there was a faint haze that caused objects to appear muted around the edges so that the apartments lining the beach seemed soft as clouds, as if they were actually floating or hovering there, shimmering in the diffused light. Everything was quiet, Suzette thought - magical. The waves were much softer and calmer than those she was used to on the West coast. The sand was much cleaner, with little pristine shells, like treasures from the sea tossed up carelessly along the shore. The whole thing had an air of suspended reality, as if when Suzette stepped off the wooden stairs leading down to the beach, she had stepped into a dream. Suzette walked feeling as if she were actually gliding. Squinting her gaze over the horizon, she took deep breaths, clearing her mind, thinking of nothing in particular except this ocean, this sky, this moment. There were very few people on the beach, and it seemed to stretch for miles. Suzette sat down, staring at the ocean until the urge overcame her and she lowered her body down to the ground in a full lying position. She didn’t care what she looked like, or if she got sand in her hair. The image of a beached whale momentarily crossed her mind, but she banished it in an instant. She stared at the hazy, dusty late afternoon sky and listened to the sound of the softly crashing waves, a bird call here and there, the soft breeze. Soon she was floating. She could feel the rotation of the earth; could feel her connection to the sand, the dirt, the wind. She felt her being meld with the ground until she lost all sensation of the boundaries of her body. She was like syrup poured over the sand, sinking and absorbing down to the core
of the earth. In an instant, she was one with all beings. In this state of deep realization, Suzette felt a communion with the small birds that ran along the edges of the waves and with those that flew in and out of her gaze. Happy, supremely happy. These words kept coming into her mind. And, Suzette was happy.
As she spun through the atmosphere Suzette thought how different this experience was from the one she thought she’d been seeking. When had she ever taken a moment to be truly alone, to explore her connection to nature? She thought she was hoping for a handsome man and an affair to fulfill her. But this was better, oh so much better. Why were humans always needing another person to confirm their worth? If I found a stranger to appreciate my body and my beauty, would I be happier than I am in this moment? An affair would be messy and complicated filled with guilt and deception. What I really need is to accept myself, accept my body, to realize my own beauty and my worth. As mixed up as I am, I need to forgive myself. I most definitely do not need to find myself in the arms of another mixed up person, adding their burdens to the wall of burdens I’ve collected through my life.
Suzette, feeling both dreamy and ethereal but simultaneously as solid and present as she’d ever felt in her life, decided to forgive. She started with herself. I forgive myself for being a fat cow, and for giving in when I should have stood up and for being timid and always towing the line. I forgive myself for not being a good wife, a good mother, a good friend. I forgive myself for being self-absorbed and self-pitying. I forgive myself for being human. I forgive my mother for all her faults and for the many burdens she placed on me when I was younger when I didn’t understand what she was going through. I forgive Tony for all the little hurts that I have stored up and held against him for so many years. I forgive him for not knowing how to overcome the chasm that has grown so deep between us for so many years. Suzette ruminated on her generosity. While she was at it, she’d forgive all of humankind. She’d forgive her co-workers for being indifferent to her, and she’d forgive Alison’s husband for committing suicide, and she’d forgive the universe for giving her best friend Jessica breast cancer.
For every act of forgiveness Suzette felt a little lighter. It was as if she was removing actual pieces of her body and holding them into the wind to be carried away on the tides and the currents. This hurt had manifested itself in her belly, and that one in her thigh, and another in the underside of her arm. She peeled and plucked, forgiving this hurt and that slight, revealing memories so old and so buried, she hadn’t realized they were lurking there. At one point she wept. The pain was so deep – the healing such a relief. Suzette had lost all track of time, and when she finally felt the urge to get up, she didn’t know if she had slept and dreamt the whole thing or if it really happened. But as she walked back to the motel, Suzette was sure that she had changed, she felt - cleansed.
Returning to her room, Suzette glanced at the clock. It was nearly five and she wanted to join Angelina for her happy hour. Suzette jumped into the shower, letting the water remove the remnants of sand and salt air from her hair and skin. She put on a sundress and sandals, grabbed the bottle of chardonnay and headed out the door. Angelina was in front of the office turning the area into a makeshift patio. Dusty, white plastic chairs had been arranged in a semi-circle and next to the wall was a rickety wooden picnic table set with a few food items. A bottle of wine stood sweating in the evening sun and some clear plastic glasses were waiting to be filled.
“Evenin’!” called Angelina as she looked up from setting out another chair. “Enjoying your stay?”
“Oh, yes, very much,” Suzette answered. Her wet hair dripping on her shoulders felt after-shower fresh in the humid air. “I brought a bottle to share. I couldn’t drink this by myself. I’m afraid it’s not chilled though.” Right now Suzette was looking forward to a cool sip of white wine. Luckily, the bottle on the table looked cold and ready to drink.
“Fabulous! I’ll just go and stick this in the ‘fridge.” Angelina disappeared inside the motel office and Suzette heard kitchen noises wafting through the open front door. In a minute Angelina appeared again with a small plate piled high with chopped carrots, celeries, tomatoes and cucumbers. “Can I offer you some veggies? I like to eat healthy myself.” Angelina smiled, her blue eyes shining.
“Thanks. I don’t eat enough vegetables.” Suzette took the plate offered by her host, selected a few of each item and asked, “Where’s the dip?”
Angelina looked visibly pained. “Try it without dip. Chew it and really taste it. I bet you’ll love it.” She took the vegetables to the table and poured Suzette a glass of the cool, crisp wine. She picked up her own cup and plopped herself on one of the chairs. “So. Tell me about yourself.” Angelina eyed Suzette while sipping from the small clear glass.
The carrot that Suzette had begun to chew stuck in her throat, as she tried to answer despite the dry vegetable turning to sawdust in her mouth. “Um, well, I had a really nice walk on the beach.” Suzette cleared her throat. “How is your day going?”
“My day? This day is the same as yesterday is the same as the one before. I am not interesting. I am interested in you. What do you do? How did you end up at my motel?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” said Suzette. “How did you end up working in this motel?”
“Ok. You’re a tough one. I’ll ask you when you get a few more glasses of wine in you.” Angelina took a thoughtful sip of her wine and pulled her left leg up under her to sit on it. She scanned the motel and parking lot and looked out over the distance. “I never meant to end up here. I just kind of fell into this, but it suits me now and I do alright.” She smiled a thin smile at Suzette.
“Do you have a family, children?” Suzette started to get more curious about this bright-eyed woman with the healthy habits and the raggedy happy hour.
“Sure. Doesn’t everybody?” Angelina’s piercing gaze bore deep into Suzette’s as she assessed whether she could trust this stranger with her life story. “I have three children, all grown. They all pretty much hate me.”
“What? How could that be? You seem to be a perfectly nice person to me.” Suzette didn’t know how to take this pronouncement, and feeling awkward she stared into her wine as if examining it for imperfections.
“Sure. Sure. I guess they’re mad at me for the way I treated their dad. He got to be boring. When I found another man to give me attention, I took off with that guy. They didn’t really like that very much.” Angelina’s eyes looked to the ground, but Suzette could see she was searching her long ago memories.
“Was he worth it, that other guy? Where is he now?” Suzette thought perhaps he also lived in the motel.
“Worth it? I ask myself that question all the time. I guess I had exactly three beautiful weeks with that guy. That’s it, that’s all, end of story. I have no idea where the bum is now. But, he was generous enough to leave me three perfect weeks, a mountain of debt and a broken heart to boot.” Angelina looked into the sky as if she might be able to get an answer from heaven. “No. I guess that’s my biggest regret in life. My kids hate me. I hurt my husband real bad. I’m alone now and probably will be forever. I have my memories, but memories won’t pay the bills, you know what I mean?” Angelina looked Suzette straight in the face with a wry smile. “Sorry you asked?”
“No. Not sorry. It makes you real. We all have our burdens.” Suzette answered holding Angelina’s bold gaze.
“Easy for you to say Miss Corporate Executive.”
“Yes, its true I am on a work trip. But, my husband and I have our troubles.”
“Is he banging his secretary?”
Suzette nearly choked on her wine, “God, I hope not. He has a part time assistant, a man who is nearly seventy years old!” The women laughed, the tension relieved.
“Some guys are into that.” Angelina winked.
“Nah. That’s not it. It’s just that I don’t feel like I’m in love any more.” Suzette surprised herself, she hadn’t ever said those w
ords out loud, hadn’t ever admitted it to herself.
“Oh come on! Love is so over-rated sweetheart.” Blurted Angelina, leaning over coming closer to Suzette, making her point “Seriously. Does he take care of you? Is he always there for you? Does he care about your day, what you’re thinking about? Is he planning a future with you? That’s the most you can hope for. Hollywood has kind of messed everyone up. Plays with our minds, you know? Every woman who buys this fantasy is expecting a Prince Charming, and they think that if there’s not constant passion and excitement, then something’s wrong. Hollywood love stories are nothing more than fairy tales with a happily ever after ending. What Hollywood has forgotten is that most marriages are boring ever after. But, take it from me – boring ever after is a heckofalot better than lonely ever after. Be grateful. Seriously.” Angelina ended pointing a scrawny, tanned finger in Suzette’s face.
Suzette looked surprised and turned away gazing into her wine, feeling uncomfortable again. She sipped and nodded thinking about Angelina’s words.
“Hello Joe! Betty!” Angelina jumped up and shouted loudly, “Come and join us! This is Suzette, she just arrived today.”
Suzette looked up to see an elderly couple come out of a downstairs room. They must have been in their eighties. Gray haired and bent over, they were wearing brightly colored Hawaiian shirts and overly large khaki shorts. Holding hands and walking unsteadily, they approached the happy hour, smiling up at the beaming face of Angelina.
“Joe and Betty are my favorite boarders! They come each year and stay for a week. They especially love to catch the sunrise every morning.”
Joe was settling into his chair as Betty gathered some goodies onto plates for the two of them.
“That’s right. We live in Kansas. No oceans, no sunrises over the water, no Angelinas to talk to – so, we come here once a year. It sort of feeds our soul.” Joe’s gnarled hand reached out to pat Angelina’s knee as he looked at her with genuine fondness, and she returned the emotion.
“You watch the sunrise every morning? I’m not sure if I have ever watched a sunrise. I am either always sleeping or getting ready for work. What time does the sun rise tomorrow?” Suzette asked, feeling as if she was planning her next great adventure.
“Tomorrow, the sun will rise at 6:32,” said Betty as she handed a plate to Joe.
“You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a sunrise over the Atlantic,” Joe chimed in.
“I think I’ll do that,” said Suzette. “Yes, I will! Thanks for the tip!”
The four of them shared small talk as the sun went down and the evening darkened into night. Suzette learned about Betty and Joe’s grandchildren and neighbors back in Kansas. They were expecting their first great-grandchild in July. Suzette had an image of Betty and Joe sitting at the top of a green hill covered in flowers. Gathered below them were all of their children and grandchildren at picnic tables and on blankets -the numbers of happy families spreading on and on into infinity, the future generations forming a solid, unbroken line. Suzette wished to have such a strong bond with her family, to be the head of something so lasting and permanent.
Later, wandering back to her room, Suzette felt happy that she had made some connections, some new friends. She felt free in the company of pleasant strangers, glad for a break from her constant thinking and worrying. As she approached her room she heard the cell phone ringing from inside.
“Mom! Where are you?” Her daughter’s voice whined from California.
“I’m sorry sweetie. I forgot to bring my phone with me outside. Is everything ok?”
“Yes. But, when are you coming home? Things aren’t right without you. Dad’s acting weird. I think he misses you. I miss you too.”
Suzette’s heart swelled with emotion and longing for her family. She missed them. “I’m coming home baby. I’ll be there tomorrow. I’m coming home.”
As Suzette drifted to sleep that night, she experienced a quiet peacefulness and something that felt a bit new to her – determination.
Suzette’s alarm woke her at 6:15. This was her last day, her last adventure. She dressed quickly and headed out the door to cross the street. She sat on one of the top steps of the wooden staircase leading down to the beach. From this vantage point she had a perfectly clear view of the ocean. Everything was quiet. She felt the same magic she had the day before. Suzette took a deep breath and held it. Feel it, remember it, hold it, she told herself, this is your happiness - breathe it in. In a few moments she was astounded at the sight of the bright orange sun just peeking up over the horizon. Suspended. Mesmerized. It happened much faster than Suzette imagined. From a small sliver of burning orange to a bright ball of firey red, the sunrise was amazing and Suzette’s heart was filled with the wonder of the natural world. This was her new day.
Suzette looked up and down the beach. Just ahead of her and several hundred feet to the North she spotted Joe and Betty, sitting on beach chairs facing the sun, holding hands. They must have sensed her looking, because just at that moment, Joe turned and waved. He didn’t look at all surprised to see her. His expression was conspiratorial, as if they now shared a secret. Suzette waved and smiled enthusiastically until Joe turned back to gaze in silence over the ocean.
Feeling energized, Suzette headed back to her room. She made herself a cup of coffee and drank it leisurely at the small breakfast table. On the pad of paper that was left for guests, Suzette wrote a note for Angelina:
Thank you so much Angelina. My short stay at your wonderful motel has changed my life. I will forever be grateful that on this trip I learned - forgiveness is healing, but you have to start with yourself. Family is golden, though it is never perfect, and old age is not to be feared, but rather embraced - it is just another season to enjoy good friends and to be eternally grateful for every sunrise. I wish you all the best, Suzette
Suzette decided to pack. She wanted to drive along the coast on her way to the airport. She was ready to go home. While she packed, she noticed a penny at the bottom of her suitcase. She looked closer and saw that it was indeed an upside down penny. Picking it up, she turned it over in her hand, “From now on Suzette, you will make your own luck!” She plunked the penny down on the kitchen counter, lucky side up. She knew Angelina would find it later. She gathered all of her things, and headed for the door. With a finality of purpose that felt entirely new to her, Suzette pulled the red bag of cheesy chips out of her carry-on bag and left it on the kitchen counter. All the false comfort that that little bag gave her, all the insecurities and disappointments that she tried to bury with little orange triangles were gone - she would leave them behind. Suzette took a last look at the cozy room, closed the door and headed toward home.