I went out to the parking garage and climbed in my car. The drive home was a relatively short one, which tonight I was very appreciative of. Pulling into my drive ten minutes later, I let myself in the front door and was immediately greeted by my cat, Chaz. His loud purr set me at ease and all the tension from the day slowly melted away with his light thrumming.
“Hey, big guy, what have you been doing all day?” I bent down to pet his black and grey fur. He arched up against my palm and meowed at me. “Oh yeah? Sounds like you’ve been a busy boy.” I stood back up and dropped my bag on the floor. “Are you hungry?” I asked my overweight companion, and he let out a long and low bellow. He weaved in and out of my legs as I tried to make my way to the kitchen. It was a familiar dance we did every evening. He would dart around my feet, and I would try not to step on him. I was convinced that Chaz understood every word I spoke to him. He’d been my cat since before my parent’s death seven years ago and he was the only one that had been here for me when I was at my worst. I loved him and he loved me. At least I think he loved me. Unless it was more because I traded food in exchange for a listening ear. Regardless, he gave me his attention and I appreciated it.
After feeding Chaz, I went to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of merlot that I had opened the night before. Filling a glass half full, I walked down to my room, changed into black yoga pants, and a pink ribbed tank top and plopped on my bed, ready to call it a night. My kindle beside me had also become a friendly companion. I was an avid reader. I threw myself into sexy romance novels or dark paranormal ones every night before passing out. Sipping from my wine glass, I sunk down into my plethora of white down pillows and immersed myself into someone else’s life. A world that wasn’t my own and allowed me some comfort and solace. A place where I could let myself live on the edge and take risks. With each word that my eyes scanned, they grew heavier and heavier. My twelve hour shift had taken its toll, and the wine was quickly seeping into my blood. I hadn’t even finished a chapter before I was in a deep, dreamless sleep.
Before I even opened my eyes I felt a heavy weight on my chest. Then a small tap tap tap on my cheek. I fluttered my lashes open and was nose to nose with a very disgruntled Chaz. Looking at the clock by my bed, it read ten in the morning. Clearly I’d slept too late for his liking and he wanted to be fed, again. Stretching my arms high above my head, he jumped off of me and stood patiently by my door.
“You know, waking up your owner isn’t very polite.” He blinked as if to say “whatever.” I sat up and rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. Geez, I must have been pretty tired. I didn’t normally sleep this late, but it was always welcomed when I did. Shuffling my way into the kitchen with Chaz traipsing behind me, I fed my bottomless pit of a cat, and turned to make a pot of coffee. I had a little bit of time to sit out on the deck and soak in the sun before Keegan would be here to pick me up. When the machine beeped, I fixed my cup of Joe just the way I liked it and stepped through the sliding glass door that was right off of the kitchen. A rickety old, wooden, rocking chair sat facing out towards an empty field with a few rolling hills. I know I should probably buy new outdoor furniture, but the idea of getting rid of this chair sent me into a tailspin. As I sat down, the wood creaked as if the small frame would give way and fall apart right under me. You see, this was my dad’s chair. Every morning he woke up before the birds and came outside and sat in this very spot. He would sip his coffee and read the newspaper. When I’d wake up, I’d come bounding outside and I’d sit on the railing across from him and we’d talk about anything and everything. There was a time when I used to crawl into his lap, but of course as I grew older and bigger, it just made sense that I graduated to a different spot. Daddy and I were close. I was never a girl that hated her father during my teenage years like everyone said would happen. I was the apple of Daddy’s eye, and he was my favorite person on earth and he was my best friend. Of course I loved my mom just as much, but we had a completely different relationship. I was just like her. I even looked like her with reddish blonde hair and aqua colored eyes. My parents were my everything. The mere idea of trashing something that was theirs, things that were part of my fondest memories, was never going to happen. Looking out over the green grass, I watched as the clouds made shadows of different shapes and sizes, as they slowly moved on to another part of the field. I was mesmerized by the way things came and went, changing and molding to the atmosphere around it. I found it peaceful and slightly disturbing. I hated change. It was exactly why I was still in the same exact spot. In the exact same chair.
An hour passed before I decided I’d spent enough time outside in my own thoughts. I had to get moving. Tossing what was left inside my mug over the edge of the deck, I turned and went in the house. Once ready, I had just enough time to get to the door before Keegan pulled up. I picked my purse up off the ground and locked the door behind me. Keegan smiled at me from inside the car, and something about it made me relax. I hadn’t been looking forward to the shopping trip, but seeing her made me remember that I enjoyed the companionship and I really did need a girl’s day out.
Climbing in the car, she gave me a very cheerful, “Hey, how’re ya doing?”
“I’m good,” I replied. “Spent a leisurely morning out on the deck and got a little bit of sun.”
She looked at me from the corner of her eye. “Yeah, your shoulders have a cute little pink tinge to them.”
Ugh! I always burned. My red hair accompanied pale white skin. Just another feature I’d inherited from my mom. During the summer months, my freckles came out in full force. They annoyed me. “Apparently it’s time to start slathering on the sunscreen before I spend any length of time outside. Someone remind me why I’m still living in the south?”
She laughed. “Uh, because the food is better and the guys are hotter.”
“You’ve got the food part right. Maybe I should move to Seattle or Alaska where the sun barely shines. I could accept my paleness and live with my people.”
“Your people?”
“Yeah . . . albinos with see through skin.”
She giggled. “You’re not albino, you weirdo. You do know that Alaskan people aren’t as pale as you’re making them sound, right? And you better not move. What would I do without you?”
“First of all, yes, there are pale Alaskans. They live way up north . . . with the polar bears. And you’d be fine without me. You’d spend more time with that gorgeous, moody man of yours.”
“I think you’ve been reading too many paranormal books. It’s the vampires that are that white. Also, time away could be a good thing. Believe me. He’s insatiable.”
I turned to face her. “Are you actually complaining about the amount of sex you’re getting to have?”
“No, I suppose not, but sometimes my little friend down there needs a break.”