Thirty Five
Age, and a regular paycheck, Emily reflected as they pulled up to the hotel and conference centre attached to the arena where the concert was to be held, had its privileges. Gone were the days of camping out for tickets, scrounging rides from reluctant parents to concerts, dressing inappropriately in the bathroom before the show so the parents wouldn’t see exactly how little one wore. Never again, Emily thought, as she checked into the hotel she had booked the night prior, with her paid-off credit card, would she need to talk herself into a ride home with a dodgy concert-goer long after the buses had stopped running. When she thought of some of the careless things she’d done in her youth, she shuddered and vowed never to let her children make those same choices. She’d drive through the night if she had to, rather than let her daughter get in a car with a stranger.
The kids, bouncing from their forced confinement, raced to push the elevator buttons. The second they had dropped their tiny suitcases in the room, they clamored to go to the water slides. Ellen, sensing that Emily needed to be alone more than she needed the stress of keeping her children, who were actually excellent swimmers, from drowning, agreed to take them down. Emily gave her a grateful hug and collapsed backward on the bed as the door closed behind them, and their noisy commotion faded down the hall.
Emily called room service for a glass of wine and examined her face in the mirror. A good cathartic cry might lift the spirits, but it sure was hell on the looks. She looked tired. Lines etched her eyes and mouth, and her freckles stood out in stark relief from her pale skin. Her hair was coppery and limp in the artificial light. A shower, she decided, and wondered if perhaps she should have ordered coffee instead of wine.
An excessively long, hot shower helped somewhat, and Emily stood, wrapped in a towel, considering her outfit for the night. She’d brought only a summer-weight black dress and sandals, steadfastly refusing to fulfill the stereotype of the over-packing female. Pulling the dress over her head, she noted that it hung a little looser on her than the last time she’d worn it. She thought back, and, with a pang, realized it had been to Thomas’s funeral. Give me strength, she thought, and, paradoxically, it seemed to. She looked in the mirror. She looked good; perhaps a little more mature than the last time she had been to a rock concert. Dressier than perhaps she might have been, but for the fact that, truth be told, it was more Trent and less the show she was here to see. Spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline, black heels just high enough to show off her slim legs, but low enough to walk comfortably in. She’d let her hair fall in large, loose curls around her face. No jewelry tonight, just a light dusting of blush, some shimmery face powder she’d found in her makeup bag, and a touch of mascara to, hopefully, draw some attention away from her crow’s feet. A light pink and some liner to her full lips, and she was ready to go.
She tossed back the rest of her wine and looked at the clock. 7:45. Way too early. She turned on the tv and flipped channels aimlessly for a few minutes, before concluding that either there was nothing on, or her attention span was minimal. Her stomach growled, and although she was unsure if it was hunger or nerves, she decided to go down to the hotel bar for a drink and a snack. This also had the added advantage of getting her out of the hotel room before Ellen and the kids got back, relieving her of the need to answer innumerable questions posed in loud little voices.
She sat at a table that looked over the hotel lobby and ordered a drink and a bowl of soup, all she thought her jittery stomach would allow her. She jiggled her foot as she ate, feeling edgy and coiled as tightly as a spring. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a shriek from across the lobby.
“Mommy!” Ava ran toward her, wrapped in a towel, shivering, lips blue, hair dripping, and trailed by Ellen and Aidan, who looked equally cold, and seemed to be pouting.
“Hey, baby! How were the water slides?” she asked, gingerly hugging the shivering girl, trying to avoid her damper parts.
“Great! But Aidan didn’t want to come back. He’s mad,” Ava said.
Aidan grumped and folded his arms across his chest defiantly. “I want to go with you, Mommy,” he said.
“No, sweetie, this is for grown-ups. It doesn’t even start until after your bedtime,” she said.
Ellen interrupted. “Besides, buddy, we’re going back to the room and order a movie. Way more fun than what Mommy’s going to do,” she winked over Aidan’s head at Emily.
“Say good night to Mommy, kids,” Ellen urged them. To Emily, she said, “Have a good time. Don’t hurry back.” She winked again with uncharacteristic and, Emily thought, unneccesary suggestiveness, and the three headed for the elevator.
Emily laughed self-consciously, and wiped her hands on her napkin. She gestured at her waitress for the check, and was looking across the lobby, people-watching, when she spotted him.
He was wearing sunglasses, and walking with Blake and Peter, and a few others who seemed to be part of an entourage. They were being hustled down a back corridor in the direction of the arena. Surprisingly, there were no fans trailing after them, and Emily wondered dimly how security had managed to keep them from being spotted by the screaming hordes outside.
She was completely unprepared for the sensation that came over her when she saw him. Her insides went molten, and she was glad to be sitting down, because she wasn’t sure her legs would have held her up. As he disappeared around the corner, he glanced back and she saw he’d taken off the shades. With a familiar, physical jolt, their eyes met for a split-second, and he hesitated, before being herded along by an authoritative man in a UPTOWN SECURITY t-shirt.
The look they exchanged at that moment left her, literally, breathless. She leaned back in her chair, trying to appear nonchalant as she reigned in her ragged breathing when the waitress came with the check. Emily signed her room number without reading it, and sat for a moment, trying to compose herself. In that second, that blink of an eye that now stretched in her memory to ages, Emily became absolutely certain that this was no mere adolescent crush, and, without knowing how, she understood that Trent felt the same way.
It made what she was about to do all the more difficult.
The kids, bouncing from their forced confinement, raced to push the elevator buttons. The second they had dropped their tiny suitcases in the room, they clamored to go to the water slides. Ellen, sensing that Emily needed to be alone more than she needed the stress of keeping her children, who were actually excellent swimmers, from drowning, agreed to take them down. Emily gave her a grateful hug and collapsed backward on the bed as the door closed behind them, and their noisy commotion faded down the hall.
Emily called room service for a glass of wine and examined her face in the mirror. A good cathartic cry might lift the spirits, but it sure was hell on the looks. She looked tired. Lines etched her eyes and mouth, and her freckles stood out in stark relief from her pale skin. Her hair was coppery and limp in the artificial light. A shower, she decided, and wondered if perhaps she should have ordered coffee instead of wine.
An excessively long, hot shower helped somewhat, and Emily stood, wrapped in a towel, considering her outfit for the night. She’d brought only a summer-weight black dress and sandals, steadfastly refusing to fulfill the stereotype of the over-packing female. Pulling the dress over her head, she noted that it hung a little looser on her than the last time she’d worn it. She thought back, and, with a pang, realized it had been to Thomas’s funeral. Give me strength, she thought, and, paradoxically, it seemed to. She looked in the mirror. She looked good; perhaps a little more mature than the last time she had been to a rock concert. Dressier than perhaps she might have been, but for the fact that, truth be told, it was more Trent and less the show she was here to see. Spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline, black heels just high enough to show off her slim legs, but low enough to walk comfortably in. She’d let her hair fall in large, loose curls around her face. No jewelry tonight, just a light dusting of blush, some shimmery face powder she’d found in her makeup bag, and a touch of mascara to, hopefully, draw some attention away from her crow’s feet. A light pink and some liner to her full lips, and she was ready to go.
She tossed back the rest of her wine and looked at the clock. 7:45. Way too early. She turned on the tv and flipped channels aimlessly for a few minutes, before concluding that either there was nothing on, or her attention span was minimal. Her stomach growled, and although she was unsure if it was hunger or nerves, she decided to go down to the hotel bar for a drink and a snack. This also had the added advantage of getting her out of the hotel room before Ellen and the kids got back, relieving her of the need to answer innumerable questions posed in loud little voices.
She sat at a table that looked over the hotel lobby and ordered a drink and a bowl of soup, all she thought her jittery stomach would allow her. She jiggled her foot as she ate, feeling edgy and coiled as tightly as a spring. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a shriek from across the lobby.
“Mommy!” Ava ran toward her, wrapped in a towel, shivering, lips blue, hair dripping, and trailed by Ellen and Aidan, who looked equally cold, and seemed to be pouting.
“Hey, baby! How were the water slides?” she asked, gingerly hugging the shivering girl, trying to avoid her damper parts.
“Great! But Aidan didn’t want to come back. He’s mad,” Ava said.
Aidan grumped and folded his arms across his chest defiantly. “I want to go with you, Mommy,” he said.
“No, sweetie, this is for grown-ups. It doesn’t even start until after your bedtime,” she said.
Ellen interrupted. “Besides, buddy, we’re going back to the room and order a movie. Way more fun than what Mommy’s going to do,” she winked over Aidan’s head at Emily.
“Say good night to Mommy, kids,” Ellen urged them. To Emily, she said, “Have a good time. Don’t hurry back.” She winked again with uncharacteristic and, Emily thought, unneccesary suggestiveness, and the three headed for the elevator.
Emily laughed self-consciously, and wiped her hands on her napkin. She gestured at her waitress for the check, and was looking across the lobby, people-watching, when she spotted him.
He was wearing sunglasses, and walking with Blake and Peter, and a few others who seemed to be part of an entourage. They were being hustled down a back corridor in the direction of the arena. Surprisingly, there were no fans trailing after them, and Emily wondered dimly how security had managed to keep them from being spotted by the screaming hordes outside.
She was completely unprepared for the sensation that came over her when she saw him. Her insides went molten, and she was glad to be sitting down, because she wasn’t sure her legs would have held her up. As he disappeared around the corner, he glanced back and she saw he’d taken off the shades. With a familiar, physical jolt, their eyes met for a split-second, and he hesitated, before being herded along by an authoritative man in a UPTOWN SECURITY t-shirt.
The look they exchanged at that moment left her, literally, breathless. She leaned back in her chair, trying to appear nonchalant as she reigned in her ragged breathing when the waitress came with the check. Emily signed her room number without reading it, and sat for a moment, trying to compose herself. In that second, that blink of an eye that now stretched in her memory to ages, Emily became absolutely certain that this was no mere adolescent crush, and, without knowing how, she understood that Trent felt the same way.
It made what she was about to do all the more difficult.
posted by Cluttered Mind | 7:13 PM
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