Empty Chairs and Empty Promises

Chapter Fourteen

Three days pass quickly and I find myself standing at the airport waving to Nate and Carrie as they walk towards the Security checkpoint. Sadness washes over me with the realization that I will mourn the loss of their companionship in the coming days. I undoubtedly will miss the shared laughter and the moments of silence as we relished a starry night sky or the feel of the sun's heat against our skin. Stretched out on the sandy beach, the salty sea spray kept us cool raising goosebumps as the lids of our eyes grew heavy listening to the roar of the waves slapping against the coastline as they lulled us to the point of sleep.

On reluctant feet, I make my way to the parking lot. One look at the rental car and I make a decision I should have made weeks ago. Today, I will find my island bomb.

I do a quick on-line search for a used car lot and drive to the nearest location. I want something in decent condition, but it doesn't need to be perfect, only reliable. By the time I explore three dealerships looking for the right vehicle, my feet throb and my mind numbs from exhaustion. I wipe my forehead to keep the sweat from dripping into my eyes as I lean back against the side of my rental and wonder if I should try again tomorrow. I decide to go to the last listing on my phone.

Cranking the air conditioning results in blowing hot air around for a few minutes and the coolness I want decides to kick in when I arrive at the last car dealership. Before turning off the ignition I close my eyes and bask in the chill for a minute or two. As soon as I turn off the car, I regret its loss.

My eyes scan the lot and that's when I spy my next vehicle — a white Wrangler, two-door with a soft top. With renewed energy, I weave my way through the metal maze of the lot until I reach the Jeep. I skirt around it, checking the body for rust, the tread of the tires, and the condition of the interior. I find a little rust but know it isn't uncommon to find some on a vehicle when near the ocean. The interior has seen better days but new seat covers will help. Even the price seems fair. I unlatch the hood and begin to raise it when the salesperson steps up with a friendly greeting.

After we haggle over the price, I complete the necessary paperwork, write a check and request to pick up the Jeep in the next day or two. A rush of joy fills me as I walk past my new acquisition. It's silly but this is the first vehicle I've purchased on my own. My parents helped me with my first car which I still owned when I married Josh. After that Josh decided what vehicles we would own.

How could I be so complacent for all those years? My irritated snort answers my question. I never wanted to disagree. I wanted my marriage to be different than my parents' volatile one, so I caved time and time again.

I haven't changed and it shows in how I deal with my kids. No more! I will not stay invisible. I will not lead a milk toast life. This is a promise I need to keep.

My reflection in the car window as I approach doesn't look like me. My hair is loose and soft around my face — a face tanned from the days at the beach. My gaze is intense from my recent anger at my passivity. I smile at this woman showing her the warrior within willing to fight for her.

<><><><><>

I decide a plan of action may be needed if I want to attain my goals. Defining those goals is going to require some thought, so I determine what I want to include in my daily and weekly routines.

First on the list is daily yoga and meditation. How else will I get in touch with me? Next, I add building my photography portfolio and work on a possible darkroom in the condo. Finally, the need to test my boundaries. Surfing, meeting new people and discovering Puerto Rico.

If I approach each day looking to meet these criteria, it will make for an excellent start. Sweat beads on my forehead at the thought of pushing my comfort level. Good to know it's making me nervous because it's a confirmation that I'm on the right track.