Chocolate Reality Page 7

  My mom has a tendency to enjoy being in the middle of all the fluff when something big is going on. If I can show that this isn’t just me doing this, maybe she’ll calm down.

  “Well of course it will appear you are the one throwing it. Do you think no one will know? Nancy is practically bragging about it. As far as she is concerned, it’s only right that the girl who broke her son’s heart throw this party. Don’t you care how this will look? Everyone will feel sorry for you … the girl who got left behind.” Mom explained with a tone of pity in her voice.

  I decide I had better sit down. This doesn’t appear to be a short conversation. Better yet, I may as well get myself another cup of coffee. I’ll need the fortification from it.

  “Now, I’ve been thinking,” Oh-oh. Definitely not a good sign when I hear this coming from her lips. “What we need to do is get you a date for this party. That way no one will think you’re still broken hearted over losing Jude. It’ll show that you have moved on with your life.” She said proudly.

  “And where do you propose I find this mystery man, oh mother dearest?” I ask a bit sarcastically. As if I can just create a man from my dreams, make him pop out of no-where. We live in a small town. You would think that if there were any available men in this town, I would have noticed them already.

  “Well,” she said a bit hesitantly, “how about you just leave that up to me?”

  I laughed.

  “Seriously. You concentrate on the party, and I’ll find a date for you. No, no, don’t worry - I already have the perfect gentleman in mind. He’s handsome, Christian and very sensitive. He’ll be just perfect for you. I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

  I couldn’t stop laughing. Sensitive? What does she take me for?

  What could it hurt? I’ve already done enough damage to my image as far as my friends are concerned. So what harm will bringing a blind date to an engagement party be? If it’s so obvious that I’m the one who’s throwing this party, then it will be just as obvious that I’m desperate enough to need to bring a blind date to it.

  “Sure mom. You go ahead. Just make sure he’s nice okay, and that he knows this is for one night only. Nothing else, okay mom? Promise?” I replied.

  “Really. You’ll let me bring someone? Sure honey, no promises. Gotcha. Okay. Well, you have a good night now, I’ll talk to you later.”

  She probably wanted to end this conversation before I had the chance to change my mind. I don’t blame her. Smart move on her part.

  Before I let my mind dwell on what I just agreed to do, I decided to drink my coffee and get back to my magazine. Hopefully when I wake up tomorrow, this will all have been part of a weird coffee induced dream.

  Chapter 8

  I’m happy. My feet are wet, my jeans are sticking to my legs, but I feel happy. I can hear the waves, the soft gentle sound ringing in my ears. The sun is setting, vibrant shades of orange and reds. What’s that saying? ‘Red in the morning, sailors warning; red at night, sailors delight.’ I feel at peace, all is right within my world.

  I glance down and realize that there is a pair of arms surrounding my waist, holding tightly on to me. The hard rock body with rock hard muscles.I lean my head to the side and warm lips settle against my skin. I lean back and feel … loved. I’ happy, at peace and feel loved. I’m facing the lake, with the waves gently crashing onto my feet. There are sailboats in the distance, bobbing up and down, in tune to the rise and fall of the waves. I begin to imagine myself on that boat. How peaceful that would be.

  With that one thought, I find myself on that very boat. My feet are no longer wet. In fact, I have designer sandals on with a summer dress swirling around my ankles. There’s a gentle breeze that is lifting my hair off my neck and gently caressing me, it kind of tickles. I look around and all I see is water. It is even more peaceful than I thought. I hear footsteps walk across the deck, feel arms come around me, and see wine glasses in each hand. I take one; bring it to my nose, and smell. It’s a sweet smell, like apple juice. I take a sip of the apple juice, letting the sensation of the sweet and bitter taste fill my mouth. I lean my head back, and hear a voice whisper in my ears. “I love you.” Tingly sensations begin to sweep over me in waves. The three most romantic words that my soul has longed to hear. I close my eyes and hold those words deep into my heart. I love you, I love you, I love you. I can hear that deep voice huskily repeating those words to me. A soft whisper in my ear, spoken with hidden promises of lasting love, honor and commitment. An eternal love. An eternal promise.

  I role my head to the side. I’m wanting to turn around, to whisper those secrets that are hidden deep within my very being. I feel the soft caress of the wind against my neck. It begins to tickle. I bring my hand up to rub that very spot when I feel my finger being bitten. Bitten? Ouch – that hurt.

  I quickly rise from my slouched position on the couch and hold my finger. There are little tiny bite marks. That wasn’t the wind caressing my neck; it was a little kitten licking me. I put my hand to my neck and it’s wet. Those weren’t gentle kisses from my dream man. They were little kitten kisses.

  So much for my romantic dream. I scoop up the kitten responsible for waking me from my dream and cuddle it against my cheek. If I close my eyes, I can almost hear that soft soothing sound of the waves while they wash upon the sand, I can almost feel those warm arms holding me close, and I can almost recapture that feeling of timeless love. Almost. Who is this mystery man? Could it be Rich, as Heather believes? What if it was him? Why can’t I let this go, why do I continually hold onto that dream in my heart of my first love?

  Grow up Wynne. Time to move on. What would it hurt though to perhaps do a quick little search on the Internet as Heather keeps encouraging me to do? Unless he was important or something, I doubt very much I would find anything on him. No one would need to know. If I don’t find anything, then I can tell Heather, and that will be the end of it all. If I do find something? Well, I doubt that would happen.

  I glance at the clock. It’s only a little after ten at night. Just enough time to do a quick search, check my email and head off to bed. I could use another cup of coffee, but since I’m fresh out of decaf, I’ll have to enjoy a nice cup of hot chocolate. While the kettle is going, I route through my fridge to see if I have any whip cream left over. There’s nothing like a cup of hot chocolate with whip cream on top. Well, if it has chocolate shavings, it might be a little bit better, but it’s late, and I’m all out.

  Mental note to self: make a fresh batch of shavings tomorrow.

  Armed with a large cup of hot chocolate, I settle back on my couch, move the kittens to the other side and place my laptop on my knees. I make sure my hot chocolate is safely sitting on my side table, and that the kittens are safely on the other side of the couch before I log into the Internet. Bypassing my email for the moment, since, after all, this quest won’t take much time, and if I get this out of the way, then it will be off my mind.

  Where do I start? I bring up Google’s home page and enter in Rich Carradine. Amazingly it turns out that there are over 70,000 different sites that have both the word Rich and Carradine in it. Like I’m going to search them all. Taking a quick glance on the first few pages was like taking a quick dip in a fantasy novel – instant and utter confusion. There has to be an easier way to find information on here. So I decide to type in the name of the university I last heard he taught at. Just as I’m about to hit Search, the phone rings.

  Heather’s perky voice is one the other line.

  “Hey girly, it’s not too late to call is it?” she asks with a slight laugh to her tone.

  “No. It’s still early and only the bored and married are in bed. What’s up?” I responded with a bit of sarcasm. I can hear more muffled giggling from her, and I begin to feel a bit annoyed.

  “Sorry,” she answers back, still laughing. “I had a little bit too much chocolate and coffee tonight, and Matt wants to go to bed, so he suggested I bug you instead of him.” She explains in among
st her many giggling episodes. One thing I learnt about Heather right from the start is that she is very sensitive to caffeine. Too much in her system and you can literally see her bouncing off the walls. It’s a scary sight actually.

  “Nice guy you have there. He’s the one who married you, so why do I get stuck with you whenever he doesn’t want to deal with you?” I made sure I laughed a little when I said it – did I mention that she is very sensitive emotionally when she’s had too much caffeine as well?

  “Because he knows how much you love me, and you’re the only one besides him who will put up with me. Those were his exact words too.”

  “So, what are you doing anyways?” she asked me.

  I hesitated a little bit. Do I really tell her what I am doing? I can only imagine her response.

  “Hmmm, I’m on the net. Nothing too important. Just doing a little searching, wasting mindless brain cells searching for anything and everything that comes into my head. So … what about you? What did you do this evening that caused you to overload on caffeine?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

  “The chocolate and coffee, you mean? Oh, Tracey stopped by to chat. I was in the middle of trying out a new recipe, so of course we had to taste test it and nothing goes better with chocolate than coffee. I think between the two of us, we both drank a full pot. I should have made decaf.”

  I chuckled.

  “And before you ask why I didn’t call you, I tried but your phone was busy. Then one thing led to another, and Tracey just left a few moments ago. Don’t worry, I saved you some of my experiment. It’s quite good actually. If Matt could keep his hands off them, I’ll bring some into the store tomorrow.” Heather promised.

  “Hmmm, it must be good if Matt likes it. What did you make? If it’s chocolate, you know I’ll like it.” I said to her. It wasn’t fair of her to dangle a little piece of chocolate in front of my face and not tell me what she made.

  “Oh, you’ll like it All right. But you’ll have to wait and see. It’s a bit hard to explain. So … what were you searching for when I called? Something for your kittens, furniture for your home, a new recipe or maybe you took my advice and started to look for Rich?” she asked. She’s like a hound dog that caught a faint snip of a rabbit. She’ll go rooting in every little hole, until she finds what she’s searching for.

  I stayed silent for a moment. I don’t want to lie to her. But I’m not quite ready to admit that I gave in either.

  “You did, didn’t you. You did a search for Rich. I knew you would. So, what did you find? Come on girl – don’t get all quiet on me now.” She exclaimed with an eager tone to her voice.

  I can just picture a wide smile on her face, and that ‘I knew it’ gleam in her eye. If she wasn’t sitting down, she’s probably doing a little jig on her floor, and if she was sitting down, she most likely has one of her arms raised in victory.

  “All right, All right.” I sighed in resignation.

  “Yes, I did a quick search, just to satisfy you. Are you happy now?”

  “Happy? Of course I’m happy. Have you found anything? Have you looked in the right places?” Heather asked. “Did you search his name? The school where he teaches? Did you try to find his phone number? Did you look very hard, or hardly looked?” She was like a dog searching for his lost bone. Did I tell her?

  “No Heather. I just did a quick search of his name. Just before you called I thought of typing in the school’s website, but do you know something I don’t know? You seem to have a lot of suggestions. Maybe you’ve already done all the hard work – do you want to fill me in?” I asked her with a hint of accusation in my voice. I’m starting to get annoyed, and I’m really not sure.

  “You know what? I’m starting to not like your tone right now. I think it’s time I let you go. It’s probably time I should go and head to bed anyways. Oh, I forgot to tell you. You’re Latte Ladies group is meeting in the morning for an emergency meeting. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” With that being said, Heather hung up the phone.

  Great. Now I’ve done it. She was probably just trying to offer suggestions, and here I go and bite her head off. Jesus, please forgive me. I’ll apologize to her in the morning, and I promise to not be upset if she doesn’t bring me any of her treats that she made tonight.

  With those thoughts in mind, I actually find myself typing in the various suggestions that she made in searching for Rich. I type in the name of the school I last knew him to teach at. As I waited for the web page to load up, I began to feel a little queasy in my stomach. Thank goodness for high speed Internet. I click on the link to the Alumni page. As I scroll down, I really find myself a bit nervous. What if I do see his picture and description? Do I want to read it? What if he is married, how will I react? What if he’s single? Is it right if I pray that he is still single or should I pray that he’s married? What would I do anyways if I found he was still single? It’s not like I could just call him up out of the blue and say hey, I’ve been dreaming of you lately, and I think I’m still in love with you. Could I really say that? I shake my head – of course I couldn’t. Who in their right mind would start off a conversation like that.

  Just before I decide I’m the world’s biggest chicken ever and click off the site, I see his name. It jumps out at me. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I’m either too much of a chicken or I need some added strength. Unsure which, I say a quick ‘God help me’ prayer and open my eyes.

  There he is. As handsome as ever. With the same wavy hair, sparkling eyes, he looks the same, only a bit older. My stomach does one of those little fluttery dances and my heart beats just a little bit faster. Glancing through his bio beside his picture, it says nothing about his family. That could be a good thing, right? I quickly glance up to see if any other bios contain personal information and see several where they talk about the wives and children. Whew. So, maybe he still is single.

  Then the thought actually hits me. He could still be single. I feel a huge smile creep over my face and I actually hear myself giggle. Me. Giggling. It’s almost like some hope for the future has re-entered into my heart. I’m not sure what I will do with this though.

  It takes me a few moments to realize I really don’t need to do any further searches so I shut down my computer, hold this new thought close to my heart, and head off to bed. Who knows, maybe my dreams will be different tonight.

  Chapter 9

  I’m late. There’s nothing worse. The last time I was late for one of my Latte Ladies’ meetings the goodies had disappeared and I was volunteered to work a craft table at the local Kids’ Fair day. I didn’t mind working at the Kids’ Fair, but the fact they didn’t leave me any goodies really hurt.

  There they all were, sitting at the corner table. I could see a basket in the middle. Must be Heather’s treat that she made last night. Please don’t let it be empty.

  “Good morning,” Lily greeted me from the counter as I stopped to pour myself a cup of coffee.

  “Hi there Miss Lily. How are you doing this morning? I thought Heather was coming in to open up.” I looked around to see if I could spot Heather.

  “Oh, Heather did. But I knew you had your Latte Ladies this morning, so I thought I would come in just in case it was a bit busy. With this being the busy Christmas season, I just figured you deserved to actually sit down and enjoy your coffee rather than popping up here to help out with customers.” Lily replied with a cheeky smile.

  Okay, okay. I admit it. I’m a hand on type of person, and I can’t seem to sit still when the store is full of customers. If I’m not at the front counter ringing in their purchases, then I’m browsing throughout the store chatting with those who come in, offering suggestions, pouring coffee. I definitely have a people person character.

  After quickly sticking my tongue out at Lily for her comment, I grab my coffee, fresh muffin and head over to the table.

  “All right, where’s the chocolate?”

  “You snooze, you lose. You should know that by
now,” said Joan as she quickly placed her hand in the basket to grab one of those delicious treats.

  “Awww, be nice Joan. Wynne looks like she had a bit of a rough morning. Look, she’s even wearing her shirt inside out this morning. I think she deserves one of those goodies.” Judy replied back as she gently patted my arm in sympathy. I quickly glance down at my top and realized she was right. It is inside out.

  “I didn’t sleep well,” I muttered quietly as I left the table feeling a bit flustered and entered into the washroom to change my shirt around. I can’t believe I walked out the front door like this.

  As I walk out the bathroom door I hear some laughter coming from the table. Hoping that laughter isn’t directed at me, I peek around the corner to see what is going on. Judy is leaning into the table with an intense look on her face. That can only mean one thing. She is telling one of her stories.

  Judy McNeil is the mother of our group. I like to think of her as ‘old and wise’ although she really isn’t all that old. Judy has a whole passel of children. I think a total of six if I counted right last time. I’m not sure how she does it to be honest, yet she never seems to be worn out. If Judy isn’t at home with her family, you’ll find her bringing some home baked goodies to a lady in our church, volunteering at one of the many functions that always seem to be happening in our town, or joining us for our Latte Ladies. I remember her saying once that Latte Ladies is an outlet that is just for her, a venue that God uses to revitalize and bring some joy into her life. That caused me to really think about what Latte Ladies meant to me. It used to just be a bible study that I went to once a week, until it was this very group of ladies that stood by me when my life seemed to be in shambles. I now thank God for them on a daily basis. He has used them to touch my life in so many different ways.

  “Now that looks better,” piped up a cheeky Joan as I sat down in my chair. “You must have had a rough night to not remember how to get dressed. Here, I saved you a treat. You will just love them. She calls them Turtle squares and they go perfect with a cup of coffee.” Chattered Joan as I reached into the basket with the hopes that someone at least saved me one treat.