Carpe Diem (5 page)

“Mrs. Reynolds?” hunk number one asks.

“Yes, that is me,” I blurt. I feel my cheeks start to warm with the embarrassment of my excited tone. My God, I feel like a kid at Christmas waiting to open a giant gift that Santa left.

“My name is Toren, I will be your masseur today. Right this way please,” he says, extending his arm toward the glass door.

“Whatever you say,” I say as I step forward to follow him.

I look back to Casey and Abby and silently mouth the words
Oh My Gawd
to them. Casey and Abby have big shitty grins on their faces and give me a thumbs-up as I continue to follow Toren. I realized quickly that I should have been paying attention to where I was walking. As soon as I started to jokingly fan myself with my hand, I see Abby’s expression change. She is trying to mouth something me, I can almost make out the words
watch out
when my body slams into the back of Toren.

“Oh shoot, I am so sorry,” I say as I back away.

“Not a problem,” he responds with a smirk.

My cheeks start to betray me by showing off the degree of my embarrassment, and my hands instinctively move to cover them, but it is too late. Everyone has seen the red glow emanating from them. You would think with as red as they have become that I was a thirty-something-year-old virgin about to get laid for the first time. Oh sure, everyone politely smiles, trying to comfort me from afar, but who are they kidding, I will never be able to live this down. I think my hand may have grazed his ass on top of it, his very tight ass I might add, and no doubt, Casey and Abby saw the whole freaking thing.

As we enter the low-lit massage room, Toren hands me a form attached to a clipboard to fill out, then asks that as soon as I am ready to go ahead and undress and lie face down on the sheet on the massage table. I feel my cheeks blush again. The thought of being naked in front of him after my inadvertent butt graze has my embarrassment reemerging. I am going to be under the sheet, I will still be naked, and he will be touching me. My face burns at that thought, I am sure my face is glowing like Rudolph’s nose. Screw it, I am going to decide right now that I am going to suck it up and damn it I am going to enjoy this. The last year has been hell on my poor body, especially my shoulders. It is about time to get some of these knots worked out.

O
ne glorious hour
later, Toren has finished working out my all knots, and I feel like melted butter. Before leaving the room, he tells me to take my time and to get up slowly when I am ready. Part of me doesn’t ever want to leave this place. It is peaceful here, no one asking me how I am doing, looking at me, wondering what he or she should say if I spoke to them, or if they should say anything at all. You would have thought that after over a year that maybe, just maybe, people would have figured out how to have a normal conversation with me.

The soft music and the scent of jasmine still fill the air as I start to uncover myself from the warm blankets. My clothes tossed on a nearby chair are waiting for me to put them back on. Do I actually have to do anything more today? Can’t this be enough? Jack and I never use to make a big deal about our anniversary so why should Casey and Abby feel the need to? I should admit, not making a big deal of our anniversary wasn’t by choice. It was mostly because when we first got married we were new parents, young and so broke we couldn’t even afford to put our two cents into a conversation. Jack was barely making over minimum wage working as a landscape technician, which was really just a fancy way of saying he cut grass, sprayed for weeds, and plowed snow in the winter. I worked odd retail jobs in the evenings so we could avoid daycare costs. I would like to say that after Jack and Flynn started Avery Reynolds Excavating & Landscape Services, and we became more financially stable, that we started making a bigger deal out of our special day, however, we were so used to doing something that didn’t cost much that we never thought of doing anything more elaborate or costly to celebrate.

It had always been enough for just the two of us to take some time for each other. No elaborate gifts or fancy trips were needed, we were together and that is all that mattered.

I hear my cell phone vibrate and can tell by its special hum that it must be Abby urging me to hurry up. I think to myself, maybe if I tell them this took all my energy away, I can convince them to let me go home and relax in front of my television for the rest of the day. Doubtful.

I am pulling my shirt over my head when my phone buzzes yet again. I sit down on the chair to put my shoes on and reluctantly look at the screen.

ABBY: Hurry up time is a wasting!!!

ABBY: Don’t make me come in there and get you!!!

ABBY: I will and you know it, get your ass out here!!!

I let out a loud sigh when I see her overuse of exclamation points, then start to type. It’s a good thing Toren worked me over pretty good massaging me like I have never been massaged before or she might have gotten a different response from me, something I might have had to apologize for later.

ME: Keep your damn panties on… I thought this was my day, I will be out when I am good and ready.

After shoving my phone in my back pocket, I lean down to put my shoes on. When I sit up, I take one more deep breath, stand, and walk over to the door. I hesitate to open the door, but if I don’t Abby will send a search party for me. I finally open the door and walk down the long white hallway back to the frosted door. I smile at Toren as he passes me, escorting his next client to another room. I can’t help but wonder what could they possibly have planned next.

“It’s about freaking time,” Abby scolds me.

“Pipe down, this is a place of relaxation,” I tell her with a snarky smirk.

“Whatever. Let’s go, time’s a wastin’. We got shit to do.”

We pile back into the car, and it doesn’t take long for us to start bragging about how awesome our massages were. Casey for some reason seemed unimpressed with hers. However, she is doing her best to play along. Abby will not shut up about how solid yet soft her guy’s hands were, and how they worked her over like a two-dollar whore.

I smile at her comment, I can feel my mood lightening. I find that am starting to get excited about what is coming next.

“What is that smile about?” Casey asks.

“Nothing,” I reply, acting as if I have no idea what she is talking about.

“No, not nothing. What is it?” she demands.

“Fine. I am thinking that I maybe, just maybe I might be glad you guys dragged me out of the house today.”

“See I told you,” Abby blurts as she gives Casey a playful nudge to her arm.

“Yeah, whatever, no need to rub it in,” Casey replies.

“Now don’t get too excited, I feel that way now, but I have no idea what else you have planned… I may hate you in an hour,” I add playfully.

The car ride seems to fly by as we continue to gossip about random things. Okay, gossip might be a strong word. I haven’t been out in the world enough since the funeral to have any real gossip. Yes, I left the house to do grocery shopping and tend to the legal matters the death of a loved one brings you. Then there were the nights that Casey and Abby dragged me to some movie or restaurant to entertain me.

Jack made sure I wouldn’t have anything to worry about financially, and between the life insurance and the settlement her insurance company offered, Bryna and I will never have to worry about a thing as far as money goes. I still can’t believe he had a letter attached to a million dollar life insurance policy ready and waiting should a day come that he would leave me unwillingly.

Jack had always been the breadwinner in our house. We decided early on that I would work as little as possible, and other than the few retail jobs I had at the beginning of our marriage, I haven’t held a
real
job in years. Even after Bryna graduated, I didn’t get a “real” job as others would call it. My job was to take care of the house and Jack. Of course, that didn’t take eight hours a day so I volunteered at the local pet shelter.

A few weeks after the funeral, I started to resume my normal shifts at the shelter, but soon became overwhelmed with conversation about Jack and questions about how I was doing. I ended up telling the shelter I needed some more time off, and that I would call them when I was ready to start up again.

“We’re here!” I hear Abby shout, as the car pulls into a spot in the mall parking lot.

“Shopping? Really?” I ask.

“Well, kind of,” Casey tell me.

“Guys I
really
don’t feel like shopping today.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not real shopping,” Abby tells me.

“I don’t even feel like fake shopping.”

“Just go with it,” Casey adds with a smile and a nod.

I decide that if Casey is trying to convince me, it might not be that bad… she knows better than to make me do something I am not in the mood to do. I give them one last look of warning, and they both smile and shake their heads yes before we exit the car and make our way to the mall entrance.

The mall is busy considering it is the middle of the week. Looking around, I see mostly moms with their kids doing what looks like some early back to school shopping. I bet the kids are thrilled. I actually kind of miss back to school shopping. I would save up for it so she wouldn’t feel left out when she walked into those halls on her way to the next grade with all her friends in the latest fashions. Granted, she usually only got three or four new outfits, but it was enough to give her the extra little pep in her step the first few days. Before my memories fully take over, Casey pulls me back to reality.

“Okay, get ready for some more pampering,” Casey says with a smile.

“Um, didn’t we just leave a spa?” I ask, looking at the sign in front of me that reads Juarez Salon &
Spa.

“Yes, but this is where we are getting our nails done, then our hair,” Casey informs me.

“Are you kidding? Nails? When have you ever known me to get a manicure?” I ask laughing

“Never, and that is why we are doing manicure and pedicures today. Then we are going to do something with that hair of yours,” Abby explains.

“And what is wrong with my hair?” I ask, giving my locks a comforting stroke.

“Nothing, we are simply going to give it a fresh look.”

My joy of this news is overflowing. NOT. As much as I love to be all prettied up, I have always enjoyed doing it myself. I am not sure if this is because I had to for so many years or if I would have always liked doing it, but the idea of giving my hands and feet to a stranger to rub and then giving control of my hair over to a perfect stranger is pure madness. Yes, I said madness.

“Come on, you will like it,” Abby tells me and pulls at my arm leading me in.

The cute twenty-something girl sitting at the reception desk with her long brunette hair and dark smoky makeup done perfectly welcomes us and offers us a beverage before calling for our nail technicians. All I can think about is how happy I am that Bryna is not that type of girl. Don’t get me wrong, I am sure this young lady is very sweet, but she seems like she would be extremely high maintenance.

The equally gorgeously made-up nail technicians lead us to the back of the spa for our pedicures. I have to admit that after getting a better look at these chairs I might have been missing out on something all these years. The chairs are black leather and large enough for two people to sit in. When I sit down in one, I quickly find they also come with some kind of remote control for you to change the massage levels and heat settings. This actually might not be that bad after all.

The hour and a half pass us by as if they were just minutes. Our hands and feet are scrubbed, full of lotion, polished, dried, and ready to go, for what I have no idea. It is worth mentioning that for my first ever professional manicure and pedicure it wasn’t bad. It was enjoyable in a way that a girl could get used to that. We were all so busy talking and having a good time that Lindsey, my nail technician, didn’t feel like a stranger for some reason.

Next we are whisked off to the salon where other long-legged beauties attempt to make something out of my long brown locks. I’ve never actually got into doing my hair in the latest fashion… In fact, I can’t tell you the last time I used my blow dryer. Wait do I even own a blow dryer anymore? I’m sure I do, that and a three-inch curling iron that I have had for about fifteen years that I use maybe twice a year.