A Fresh Start
Chapter 2
oOoOo
Stephanie POV
I feel so blessed. I love the beach and here I am, in Miami, in a beachfront hotel with blue skies and ocean views. The weather is glorious. This is bliss. Daddy chose the perfect place for me as part of a congratulatory present. I had finished my studies and graduated with great scores with a couple of degrees, and well-chosen, practical short courses and electives.
I have been here less than a week, arriving just over three hours later on a direct flight, which was thankfully in the same time zone. Leaving Trenton and New Jersey behind for a fresh start was the plan. I had a window seat and it was very liberating once the plane broke through the bleak, miserable rain clouds to the open blue skies above, a definite omen of good things to come. This time it felt exhilarating, so my usual flight take-off and landing anxiety were not as tense like I thought they would be. Landing was filled with admiring the great views below, with anticipation and excitement for a new adventure, new beginnings.
Once I had registered my arrival at the hotel, I was shown to my room, with ocean views – Daddy knows me so well. I changed quickly into shorts and a t-shirt, with a pair of sandals, before quickly grabbing my sunglasses, and I was off to check out the boardwalk. I had packed them at the top of my suitcase in readiness. I had my priorities. While I was near a brace of palm trees, I sent a selfie to Dad and Grandma, confirming my safe arrival.
I was looking forward to this week to relax and acclimatise, but also take time to investigate the accommodation options. Depending on where I find work, to a degree, that would determine where I would live, and being close to public transport was something else to consider. Before leaving New Jersey, I had already arranged a number of job interviews, for late next week and the week after, allowing myself two weeks to settle and find my way around this wonderful place.
However, Daddy suggested three weeks, to consider giving myself a well-deserved holiday break. I think he was right about that. To be honest, I really do need a break. He said to fill it with happy days, new experiences and to explore my new space and the exciting things it has on offer. "Be the tourist." I always wondered about places like Florida Keys and exploring reefs, snorkelling and fun things like that. So, I made sure to grab some brochures from the concierge after yesterday's inaugural late morning walk.
This morning, my second morning, I was up earlier, taking a breathtaking walk along the beach, enjoying the morning glow of the pastel hues of the sky over the ocean. There was barely a whisper of a breeze. The sun was already warm yet pleasant against my skin. Wearing just my favourite denim shorts and a tie-dyed tank top, I was in my element. No humidity at this time, well, at least not yet. After crossing over the pathway, dodging the cyclists, scooter riders, and joggers, I made my way to the boardwalk. I was enjoying the look of the palm trees, soaking up the tropical feels before I walked down to the sandy beach, removing my sandals as I went. Each morning, I decided I would walk a bit further along the boardwalk, check my bearings, then return via the beach. There were some people swimming in the ocean even this early, with just small waves, others lying on the sand already, and of course there were joggers. It was wonderful mild, balmy morning. I sighed contentedly.
This morning, on the return journey, I decided to walk right near the water's edge, letting my feet get wet, getting the water and wet sand between my toes. I closed my eyes and breathed in the ocean smells and sighed. This is a long time, well-earned holiday, vacation, whatever. It's the first real break since I graduated. In fact, it was the first break since I started my final degree. I could feel the tension releasing both in my body and in my mind as I did some stretches.
Thinking back some years ago, to when the shit hit the fan, things changed for the better. Within a month, I no longer lived in Chambersburg. After all hell broke loose with the woman who is purported to be my birth mother, Daddy found out what happened and how she dealt with it, my punishment. From then onwards, my life took an entirely new direction. As a contender for Mother of the Year she failed miserably, unless you only considered her with Valerie, who was vanilla pudding, a perfect clone of her mother. I called her Saint Valerie. Daddy and Grandma moved out of Roosevelt Street and took me with them, which was my saving grace, removing me from that noxious environment with all the constant censure and vitriol. But I am not going to dwell on that right now. I'm here, in Miami, walking on the beach in the morning sun, feeling all kinds of good, and pride in myself and my journey so far.
Upon my father's advice, I had been seeing a therapist after Joseph Morelli took my virginity on the floor of the Tasty Pastry, but also to confront and deal with the issues of my mother's constant disapproval and censure. I learned a lot about myself in how to purge those negative experiences and how to move forward. It wasn't easy. Because of that, Amy, my therapist, encouraged me to pursue further studies. With my first experience at Douglass College, my score was not something to be proud of, graduating in the top 98 percent of my class. Pfft. Much to my surprise, I became a better student since the demons had been cast aside. My natural resilience had taken a massive beating, but with some nurturing it was my ally, and, because I had a naturally positive disposition, these were both critical in enabling me to move forward. Of course, I wasn't alone, having Daddy and Grandma in my corner helped immensely.
I've come a long way. I stood still, letting the sand sink around my feet as the wavelets washed up, watching the little bubbles pop around my toes and as the waves receded. The sense of freedom and relief is immeasurable. I closed my eyes, just listening and feeling the sounds around me, the warmth on my skin, the light breeze moving through my hair. Damn, it felt good, like all the bad juju was being sucked out of me, just disappearing as the waves washed away. I released my feet from the suction of the sand and rinsed them in the next wave. Walking up the beach a little, just above the water line, I sat down to watch the passing parade of people, the early birds. It wasn't busy, nor crowded. It wasn't peak season either. Just nice. Calming. Pleasant. Soothing, like a balm to my soul. Freedom.
After a dismal start to college, compounded by the traumas I had recently experienced, especially the harsh punishments exacted by the one who thinks she is my mother, I was able to get away from the Burg. Probably because I slept in the library, daydreamed in history class and failed maths twice, it was not such a good start, consequently graduating in the top 98 percent of my class – that actually meant I was in the bottom two percent.
Amy acknowledged that this was likely due to post traumatic shock while I was recovering, and trying to come to terms with those negative experiences. She also advised me not to throw these episodic memories into a deep compartment labelled Denial. Confront them, then shaft them aside. Maintain forward motion with the positive direction and steps, now strides, that I had taken to get where I am now. I was strong, composed, confident and resilient. I was accomplished. I did my daily breathing and relaxation exercises. Now here, on this glorious beach, I was meditating. Finding an ambient place like this was most beneficial. How right she was.
We, discovered, Daddy, Grandma and I, that somehow, my college trust fund had been depleted, except for a small amount that amounted to my course registration with some loose change. Where did the funds go? Valerie's wedding. She's now in California. Pfft. But she, Mommie Dearest, didn't see fit to top it up or replace my college funds. She was still trying to control my life from afar, firmly believing that me going to college was a waste of time, and money. It wasn't what successful young Burg women should aspire to.
According to her, it seems that my plans to go to college had to be redirected because I should settle down and marry the jerk who all but raped me. Ironically, my saving grace was his rapid exit the following day, or more likely, his escape, into the navy. Coward. But, it did give me a reprieve. Three years later, when he returned to Trenton, on shore leave perhaps, whatever, I really don't care, I spotted him standing outside Giovichinni's Meat Market while I was driving Daddy's Buick. I gunned the big V-8 engine, jumped the kerb, and clipped Morelli from behind, bouncing him off the front right fender, breaking his leg. I did check. Leg broken. Meh. No charges were laid. No shame. No guilt. Just a great inner sense of satisfaction and redemption.
I smiled with that last memory, chuckling to myself. His face told it all, the utter shock. Pfft. It just happened, like some delayed reactive response. I was always criticised for being impulsive. Was it accidental? Hell no! It was spontaneous and deliberate. The asshole deserved it. I smiled as I shafted that gratifying episode. Time to make tracks. I stood up, shaking the sand off my legs and my shorts, breathed in a deep fortifying breath, feeling good how my life has turned around. Time to head back.
After a quick shower, feeling refreshed and invigorated, I put on my newly acquired Miami Beach Babe emblazoned tank top. I chose the tie-dyed rainbow colours because they made me feel happy. Time for breakfast as my tummy rumbled on cue.
As I exited the elevator and walked towards the dining room, the lovely smells wafted over me invitingly, luring me in the right direction. I did a complete circuit of the sumptuous breakfast buffet with all the food displayed so enticingly, both the cooked and regular breakfast options. Planning to have some eggs later, I decided to get some of that delicious tropical fruit first. My plate was piled with strawberries, mango, banana, some papaya, pineapple and kiwifruit, a very colourful selection. I checked out the muffins and croissants hoping to find a Boston cream. Alas, I settled for a Danish instead which I balanced on top. I grabbed a glass of juice and walked carefully to find a table from where I could still enjoy the ocean view, with only a few people around. It was still early after all, and I didn't want to sit in a booth alone, which seemed inappropriate to do. It might get busy later on. Besides the booths did not allow for an ocean view. I sat down with a contented sigh, carefully setting my plate and juice down.
"A Danish will have to do since I didn't see any Boston cream doughnuts. Oh well. New beginnings. Go me," I muttered to myself as I celebrated my choice of an excellent ocean view with my well-chosen table.
As the waitress served coffee to the gentleman nearby, I waved politely to her for my first coffee of the day. She offered me milk, handing me a cute little jug. I fixed my coffee with sugar, stirring it before taking a hearty sip, as I held the cup in two hands. "Perfect," I sighed happily. As the waitress came by she offered me some bottled water while I ate my fruit.
I was enjoying the view when I noticed a strange middle-aged lady, waving in my direction. That's weird. I don't even know her. I forked pieces of fruit, ignoring her, but she was persistent. I looked around, behind me, noticing that the gentleman, a rather good-looking man, was hiding behind his newspaper. He had moved slightly, using me as a shield. Ha! He had a stalker. She was waving to get his attention. I was amused. Mister Tall, Dark and Handsome, was actively avoiding eye contact with that woman. My curiosity was piqued. What?! So, sue me, I'm nosy. I smiled to myself.
After getting a top up of my coffee, I visited the chef station, deciding to have another omelette today. It was so delicious yesterday. I asked the same young chef for what he made for me yesterday, when I'd said, "Surprise me." He grinned and indicated potato, cheese, ham and herbs with those delicious crispy bacon bits on top. I beamed and nodded. He was pleased with my order and said it would be brought to my table, so I selected a few more strawberries in a little bowl and returned to my table.
"Mm-mm. Such juicy strawberries!" I was really enjoying all the fresh fruit. I never really had a lot of fruit, but this was part of my new mantra, a new beginning, my fresh start. I noticed that the good-looking man was distracted by my strawberry indulgence. Oopsie.
A waiter approached his table with a message. He was very discreet and handed over a card, a swipe card by the looks of it. He looked displeased but tipped the waiter giving him a return message. The waiter nodded and delivered Mr TDH's reply. So, shoot me, I was now even more curious. I love people watching, I was just trying to make it not so obvious. I can do discreet. I learned that with my studies. Yep. Just as I thought. He declined her card. The woman was disappointed and moved away after one long lingering look. I have to admit, Mr TDH was rather easy on the eye.
He finished his pale looking omelette and started on a bagel. Did I hear him hum? He had a look of mischief in his eyes, not teasing, but definitely savouring the flavours. Then I remembered him ordering an egg white omelette. I was struck with why would someone miss the best part of the egg, the yolk? Each to their own I suppose as I nibbled the last strawberry. A waiter arrived serving my delicious looking omelette. I thanked him and couldn't wait to get started. Oh yes! This was so yummy.
It's rather nice having your breakfast made for you like this. It felt luxurious. It was different from home cooking. I decided that tomorrow I will try something new. Maybe I could do an extra ten laps in the pool to work this off. I sipped my coffee then decided it was time to go, not that I was on an agenda, but other patrons were starting to arrive. I stood up, about to take a last sip turning simultaneously, only to hit a wall. Where did that come from?
"Oops. Omigosh. I am so sorry," I said as I realised I had spilt the last of my coffee on his button up shirt. Automatically my hands were wiping away the spill quickly to clean up the stain. Omigosh. He was built! He was all hard muscle. With my serviette, I continued with wiping and apologies, not realising I was slowly tumbling backwards from the impact of our collision. He grabbed me by the arms to stop me falling backwards. I must have bounced off him.
Gently he steadied me, saying, "De nada. No problem, Babe. It will wash out. I wasn't looking where I was going. It was my fault entirely." I was disappointed when he let me go. His hands were so warm, and strong. I felt a curious sensation at his touch, a slight tingling, and rubbed my neck.
"Ah yes. You were … escaping, perhaps?" I smiled as I let my eyes drift to the front of the hotel dining room.
He hung his head, and grinned apologetically, more feigned than in genuine remorse. "Sprung," he admitted. His eyes were looking at my tank top and his hands twitched then stayed firmly by his side. He was probably thinking of wiping my stains away but thought better of it. How I didn't drop the cup was a surprise as I put it down on my table.
"Meh. It's alright. I have more. Enjoy the rest of your day. I have to go upstairs to change anyway. See ya." I waved over my shoulder with a parting smile, leaving him standing there with a silly grin on his face.
oOoOo