Every Other Weekend

By Melinda Drake

When I lost Charlie, I needed to write to ease my pain; and found myself writing the angst of every woman I have ever met. Can we have it all? Can we be successful in our job, have a beautiful healthy child or two, have a wonderful marriage or relationship, and supportive family and friends? Balancing a personal and a professional life is not easy, and as I try to reconcile all the emotions I have about losing my dog; I decided to find a way to experiment with this book. This book invites the reader to be the narrator, to experience and live, at least part of the life of every woman I have ever met. Experience the passion of finding and losing a soul mate, to find yourself and realize that it is not about the destination. Life is the journey. Every Other Weekend will take you to the difficulties of having a part-time life of a single mother because you are just not quite ready to share your family life with the man of your dreams. It will take you to different parts of the world, just to find that you are always were you are supposed to be, in love with life and happy to be you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483574646

Book preview

Chapter 1

It has taken me a while to figure out the losses that I've experienced in the last few years. Multiple losses tend to do that. The first loss hurts so much that I’ve learned the truth about what poets meant with the term heart broken. Time does not heal the pain, but when I got hit a couple of times – the pain begun to numb each other. It also became harder to understand those losses when they were experienced at the same time as successes. No, this is not one of those cases wherein the good and the bad cancel each other. I am not sure if there is such a thing, life never quite balances out.

Emotions, sometimes, have taken the best out of me. I have learned not to show mine; not even to myself. I have gotten so good at hiding my emotions and I believe that perhaps they were finally catching up with me. My senses have been so overloaded. I am not sure how to even begin to feel. Am I supposed to mourn? I don't know who or what I am mourning for. I did not know how much Charlie really meant to me. I don't think I ever will. Charlie, without her or my knowing, helped me get through a rough spot of my life. I lost her today. It hurts, but my tears don’t seem to want to come out of my eyes. I want to cry and I can’t. I need to take the time to reconcile my thoughts and hopefully find a way to give myself a break. It is still a long way to Myrtle Beach and a good time to just think back. The sun is going down as I am driving on Hwy. 17. It should take me about four more hours to get to the hotel.

For most of my life, I have been pretty lucky. I really do not have anything to complain about my life, and I am not complaining. But I feel a little lost right now and perhaps re-living the past will help me sort things out so I can go forward, to allow myself to find a way to forgive. I am not sure who I need to forgive, myself or other people in my life. I am sure however, that I do not want to forget any of the things that happened, especially those that occurred these past few years.

Looking back, I think things started to go wrong about the time we decided to go to Paris. It was one of those impulsive decisions that happen when there is nothing happening. There was nothing exciting to watch on television; with more than 250 TV channels, and I cannot find anything to watch. I decided to surf the net with my laptop in bed.

What are you looking for? Ben asked. We have been living together for about three years at that time.

Nothing, just looking since there isn’t anything worth watching tonight. I answered. I was in Expedia and found those last minute weekend travel specials.

Do you have anything plan for this weekend? I asked.

Nothing that couldn’t be cancelled. He continued, did you see anything worth doing?

There’s a special for Paris, I responded.

Let me check, as he turned his laptop on to see what I was looking at.

Ben began to get excited as he build our trip around an online deal. This is not bad, Ben was very proud to have found a great bargain. We can definitely afford to go this weekend.

Great, I answered. Lynn is with her dad, I thought. I could have him pick Lynn up at the house, so we could leave on a Friday, I continued to think ahead. Suddenly it came to me, a trip to Paris, I began to think of what most women dream of…a proposal.

We’re all booked. Ben announced.

This was where I found so much commonality with him, just enough impulsivity to do things on a whim but still be in control. I know, how can anyone be impulsive and in control at the same time? To be successful, risk taking is inevitable, and one must rely a little on impulse to take chances with opportunities when they happen. Ben thinks that way.

Ben is a business development manager for the Southeast Coast for Coca Cola. He traveled a lot, but did not have to leave home to work. He rose up to the ranks after having been the top sales person in the country. Before meeting him, I did not have any idea that soft drinks sales could be so competitive. Another attribute we share: we’re both very competitive. I told people I am not, as I am only competing with myself; but from the outside, I guess everyone have seen me to be just that, very competitive.

The week went by fast with all the excitement in my head, all I could think of is a proposal happening this weekend. Like every American woman traveling to Paris with her live-in boyfriend, I gleefully expected a proposal. Three years had gone by since we met, three not bad years, I thought. It was Friday before you know it. The trip to the airport, just an hour from the house was not bad. We flew out of Charlotte, where we have more choices and straight through flights. Ben was not talking as much on the drive and I did not mind, I was busy dreaming on our drive to the airport. He could be just as nervous as I am. I thought to myself as I dream of the perfect spot in Paris for a marriage proposal.

We boarded the flight, and Ben continued to be sullen. Is he putting me on? I asked myself. This was not nerves I’m seeing. The thoughts kept ringing in my head. He did not seem to have any excitement at all about the trip. He was not the same person whom I planned the trip with just a week ago. We landed at Charles de Gaulle mid-afternoon on Friday and took a cab to the hotel. I patiently waited for the magic moment, but nothing happened. Did I become like every woman I know? Just the thoughts that I wanted Ben to propose to me is making me question myself. Who have I become in these last few years? The cab stopped, and we are at the hotel. It is in the heart of Paris and within walking distance of all the sites. A good spot. I thought, but something continuous to be off with Ben. He was short-tempered, almost annoyed. I dismissed what I was experiencing, he is just tired. I am determined to enjoy Paris.

October is such a fabulous time of the year to visit Paris, I said to him as we checked in to the hotel.

Nice to be here when it is not so crowded and not so hot, he responded back.

There is still enough light from the afternoon to walk around the area. Perhaps, we can walk around before dinner."

The hotel is a quaint boutique hotel, with the lobby and stairs to the guest room marbled. Ben picked up both of our luggage, another commonality, as we tend to pack light when we travel; no luggage to check in at the airport and just enough clothes for the trip. We entered our hotel room, it was elegantly decorated. Without knowing where you are, entering this hotel room will make you aware, you are in Paris. The tufted chair and bed headboard, the wallpaper in hues of grey and pink, and the fresh flowers on the vase on the night dresser…everything just felt French to me.

Are you planning to change? I turned to Ben and asked.

No, I’m okay with what I have on. How about you?

I’m good. Ready to go, if you are.

And just like that, we were on our way out. We turned the corner from our hotel, and walked by the Opera House. With its highly ornate baroque design, the French have a way of making you experience an opera without having to watch one. The building commanded the feel of the opera. Not a good spot to propose. I thought to myself. This is not romantic enough.

We found ourselves walking to a small restaurant. Funny how every restaurant occupied the sidewalk, like it was theirs. Even funnier was how everyone wanted to eat in the tables by the sidewalk. Everyone seemed to just want to be seen, as they pose for passersby.

Table for two, Ben told the host.

Would you like a table outside? he asked.

Sure.

Follow me. Ben and I followed our host to a small table. We sat and perused through the menu.

Do you want to share escargot for the appetizer? he asked.

Sure, why not? There would not be a better place to try escargot, than Paris. I answered as we continued to order dinner.

Dinner was everything that anyone could dream of a French dinner to be. Rich and tasty without making you feel heavy. Even with all the butter, the dinner felt light enough to add a dessert.

I must have Crème Brule, I said as I finished my dinner plate.

No reason, not to. Let’s share one with coffee.

Here we were at a sidewalk café sharing dessert with our coffee as the sun faded and the night begun. It is romantic enough for a setting. I thought as we share the last bite of the Crème Brule, but nothing happened. He has not asked. Perhaps it was too early in the trip, we have two more nights.

We walked back to the hotel. He tried to reach out for my hands but it felt awkward to walk holding hands, so I broke away from him. With every step back to the hotel, I found myself anticipating. We were at the lobby before you know it. Tired from the flight, Ben was asleep by the time I got out of the shower. Quietly, I tucked myself in bed next to him.

Saturday morning in Paris was full of promise, as I got off the bed to peek through the heavy drapes to check what awaited outside.

Good morning, Ben greeted me as he came out of the shower.

Good morning, I answered. How was your sleep? I asked.

It was okay. He continued, Are you ready for breakfast?

I will take a quick shower and be ready in a jiffy, I answered as I grabbed my make-up bag to take with me to the shower.

Ben was all dressed by the time I got out of the shower. I finished applying my mascara and was putting my lipstick on as I walk back to the bedroom. Ben was sitting on the bed, he paired his black turtle neck shirt with his blue jeans. For a man in his forties, Ben looked so much younger than he was. He looked at me and asked, Ready?’

Almost, as I hurried put on a white long sleeve sweater over my jeans.

Walking out of the lobby, We should turn left, Ben said, save as a few steps towards the Louvre.

We easily found a nice café. We found a table right away, and our waiter was quick to follow.

"Bon soir" he greeted us.

We greeted him back, as we ordered. Latte for me, espresso for Ben, and of course, croissant.

Nice day, I said.

We got lucky with the weather, Ben responded.

I guessed we did, as it was breezy, a perfect sweater weather day.

Our order came, and I reached out for my latte; holding the cup with both hands. I took a sip of my latte. I felt the warmth of the coffee as I sank to my seat. Finally a real croissant made by a French baker, I tried to make a conversation.

We got a packed schedule, Ben responded. He