Sequel: "You Can't Stay a Saint in This City" ›
Status: Complete ... For Now
Lost In Pacific Time
The Words That You Whispered For Just Us To Know
“A high school reunion?” asks my teammate Brad as he reads over my shoulder on the chartered plane to Tampa Bay.
“Yeah, a high school reunion” I confirmed sipping some water. Amber would love Florida, I could just see her meeting me at the hotel so that we could go to Disney World. But for all I know Amber could be dead, she was the one who had all my contact info, she was the one who left for California the October after high school graduation, and I’ve never heard a peep out of since. I guess I could find her if I truly wanted to, but did I want to? The fact that she could just get up and leave everything she loved so much and start off fresh scared me. I didn’t miss her as much as I used to, but I still thought of her, it was worst when I was home in Vancouver. I’d drive past our old school and remember random things. Like when I saw the parking lot to our old school and remembered how she’d always be waiting for me by my car for a ride. Or when I’d pass by the Lululemon store in Kitsilano and remember how she spent an entire weeks pay from her afterschool job at the hardwood store to buy a pair of those pants. She looked good, real good, in those pants. In my mind Amber and Vancouver would always be interconnected.
_____
I was putting long stemmed white and pink roses into a tall Baccarat hurricane vase, my design firm was setting up a home in Santa Barbara. The budget for the home was four million which left me a hefty commission, so I had to make sure that everything down to the decorative couch cushions was in place.
“So Amber, what would you like to tell us about the house?” asked Pixie Turner, a reporter from Vogue Home. Over the past year my fame began to peak, so for almost every project I did there were a couple magazines who offered to cover it for an interior design feature.
“Well, it’s a New England style home and a little over seven thousand square feet. We removed that wood panelling to bring the home from the seventies and into the twenty first century. The overall look of this house is modern yet timeless with the tufted chaises and Swarovski crystal chandelier.” I said trying to over everything in the living room as Pixie jolted it down in her note pad and her accompanying photographer took about seventy pictures in a minute.
My assistants were keeping themselves busy, Jasmine with hanging pictures, Greg was dusting the mantle, and Ivy was polishing the sliding glass doors. I realized I had nothing left to do, so I began taking away the packaging that came with most of the furniture. As I walked outside I wondered if all houses in New England looked like this, postcard pretty with shingles and window boxes. Did he live in a house like this? I shook my head and stuffed the trash into the garbage can at the end of the long winding driveway. Earlier today I had booked two first class tickets to Vancouver, confirming that I would definitely be going, maybe not to the reunion but definitely back home.
“Yeah, a high school reunion” I confirmed sipping some water. Amber would love Florida, I could just see her meeting me at the hotel so that we could go to Disney World. But for all I know Amber could be dead, she was the one who had all my contact info, she was the one who left for California the October after high school graduation, and I’ve never heard a peep out of since. I guess I could find her if I truly wanted to, but did I want to? The fact that she could just get up and leave everything she loved so much and start off fresh scared me. I didn’t miss her as much as I used to, but I still thought of her, it was worst when I was home in Vancouver. I’d drive past our old school and remember random things. Like when I saw the parking lot to our old school and remembered how she’d always be waiting for me by my car for a ride. Or when I’d pass by the Lululemon store in Kitsilano and remember how she spent an entire weeks pay from her afterschool job at the hardwood store to buy a pair of those pants. She looked good, real good, in those pants. In my mind Amber and Vancouver would always be interconnected.
_____
I was putting long stemmed white and pink roses into a tall Baccarat hurricane vase, my design firm was setting up a home in Santa Barbara. The budget for the home was four million which left me a hefty commission, so I had to make sure that everything down to the decorative couch cushions was in place.
“So Amber, what would you like to tell us about the house?” asked Pixie Turner, a reporter from Vogue Home. Over the past year my fame began to peak, so for almost every project I did there were a couple magazines who offered to cover it for an interior design feature.
“Well, it’s a New England style home and a little over seven thousand square feet. We removed that wood panelling to bring the home from the seventies and into the twenty first century. The overall look of this house is modern yet timeless with the tufted chaises and Swarovski crystal chandelier.” I said trying to over everything in the living room as Pixie jolted it down in her note pad and her accompanying photographer took about seventy pictures in a minute.
My assistants were keeping themselves busy, Jasmine with hanging pictures, Greg was dusting the mantle, and Ivy was polishing the sliding glass doors. I realized I had nothing left to do, so I began taking away the packaging that came with most of the furniture. As I walked outside I wondered if all houses in New England looked like this, postcard pretty with shingles and window boxes. Did he live in a house like this? I shook my head and stuffed the trash into the garbage can at the end of the long winding driveway. Earlier today I had booked two first class tickets to Vancouver, confirming that I would definitely be going, maybe not to the reunion but definitely back home.