Escape Across the Pond

Chapter 6

It doesn't take long at all to put the few items away that I brought with me. Mostly clothes, a couple of pairs of shoes, my diary, and just a few items that were my dad's. As it turns out, dad wasn't quite as secure financially as he originally thought. After dad got sick and after Elizabeth's many trips into the city for spa days and galas, what was saved for his retirement was essentially bled dry. 

I couldn't bring myself to tell him that everything he had worked so hard towards was slipping through our fingers as he was slipping through mine. So, it's gone. All of it. She got the house and I kept my trust but there was nothing else left in the end. She sold many of his things but I did get his and my mother's wedding bands. 

I have a photo album of the three of us before mom passed. And I have a photo album of trips with just my dad and me before Elizabeth and Blair ever came along. It used to be difficult to look through my mother's photo album, to see such similar features on a person that I hardly remember but dad would always encourage me to look through it with him. He would tell me stories of how my mom was an absolute angel with the kindest heart but in the same breath, she would defend those she cared about without a thought or fear. 

Even though she wasn't there, I always felt in those moments she was with us. Looking out for us. And now they're together and I'm still here.

The thought of looking through the photo album of all the memories with my dad brings tears to my eyes. I haven't opened it in a long time and I still don't see myself being able to open it any time soon.

I hop up to my feet determined not to let myself feel down. I think of what Grandmama or Kate would do and I straighten my spine, grab my cross-body bag with my wallet and key to the cottage, and head downstairs.

I've got to grab a few more clothes and toiletries and most definitely some food. I wonder where the closest supermarket is, so I pull out my phone and bring up maps to find out which direction I need to be going. It doesn't look like it will be a very far walk at all. I'll be able to take in some of the sights along the way but it looks as though most of the things I need can be found in stores all in the same general market area. Works for me.

I try to casually blend in with others on the sidewalk and not draw attention to myself. That's the last thing I want. But this small town doesn't look very threatening. And generally speaking, everyone seems friendly enough. I need to keep it together and not end up being known as "The American Nutcase" around town. So when I walk into the first boutique off of the main street I force a smile to my face and "Say no thank you, just browsing." to the girl behind the counter after she welcomes me to the store and if I need any assistance.

"Oh, you're an American eh?" she asks in a condescending tone.

"Uh, yeah. American. Just staying at a friends for vacation or holiday I guess you call it." I say avoiding eye contact.

I knew I would have to talk to people in town but I wasn't expecting my first interaction to go so terribly.

"Well, I'm not sure that we have anything here that would seem to tickle your fancy." She says while wrinkling her nose in my direction taking in my worn jeans, scoop neck tank top and red and white flannel. My hair is a complete mess after riding most of the way here with the window down and I didn't even bring make-up with me on the trip so I can only imagine what she must think I look like. I should have changed or something but I really need some more clothes which is why I'm here in the first place. Ugh! Screw her. I didn't come in here for Posh British Barbie to make me feel like a loser.

I take a moment to gather myself then I scan the room to all the bright colors of pinks, purples, and teals. They have bags and flowy-looking pant suits and strappy heels as far as the eye can see. It almost looks like Crayola threw up in here. I pull a blindingly bright yellow, is this a moo-moo? Out from one of the racks beside me. Then, I take a moment to run my eyes up British Barbie. She has on these hideous white patent leather knee-high boots with a very short yet hot pink romper with a cut so low I'm afraid a nip slip will be inevitable. She has a bleach blonde, sleek bob and a sneer on her pouty pink lips.