A Woman in Search Of...

In the morning Wendy made a concerted effort to get going. She couldn’t explain her mood. When she left Scott, she never thought they could get back together. After last night his transformation made her think there was a chance. He admitted to being selfish, but he emphasized he’d changed. She needed to hear that. A chance to be a couple and share their thoughts and feelings was how their marriage began. She didn’t want to dwell on their horrible arguments about his absence, or his criticism, or his inability to share what he thought or felt. His openness and interest in her gave her encouragement. She needed to watch her criticism of others too. They needed to spend time together to be sure he was a transformed person.

Wendy threw on her grungy jeans and old sweatshirt and went to the backyard. She needed this down time. Her life needed to ebb and flow like gentle tides, smooth and less tense. Working in her garden would work. She dug up a small azalea and transplanted it to an area closer to her bedroom window so she could look out and see its precious pink flowers. After a little weeding she sat back on her heels, looked around her yard and reminded herself she was good at what she did. She wanted to continue to channel her abilities in areas where she could excel. She hoped the Convention Center project offered her another opportunity to do just that.

She brushed her gloves together to get the soil off, pulled them from her fingers and tossed them on the patio table as she went inside. It was near the end of June, and Wendy stopped major garden work except for upkeep. Plants didn’t like to be planted or transplanted when it was hot. It could put them into shock.

Wendy showered, dressed and read the paper as she ate dinner. She thought about Elliott and called him to see if he wanted to join her at the Cove, but he couldn’t. She forgot he was teaching an art class at Santa Monica College.

As she drove toward the Cove, she couldn’t remember the last time she sat at the piano bar near Brad. She looked forward to it tonight.

As she entered, Rusty greeted her. She flashed a smile and walked past him as he gave her a light touch on the shoulder.

Thankfully, the bar stool in front of Brad was open, she slung her purse on the back of it as she sat. A waitress, she didn’t know, immediately came over for Wendy’s drink order. She returned with the drink just as Brad came to set up his music, and ready himself for the night’s performance.

Wendy exchanged small talk with him before he took his seat. His first set was filled with all the songs she liked. People around her were in good spirit although they talked as he sang. He was used to it, but she preferred not to talk while he sang. She imagined how great it could be to see him perform in concert. He certainly deserved one.

Brad came around to visit with her at the start of his first break.

“So, what have you been up to Wendy? Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

She couldn’t believe he even cared. He rarely asked her anything personal. “The nursery keeps me busy and somehow I find time for other activities, thanks for asking.”

He was about to say something more when a woman, with a pixie haircut, broke into their conversation, Brad nodded to Wendy as he turned to the woman. They moved away and visited. The woman laughed out loud.

After Brad’s second set, Wendy took a small metal case out of her purse and went to the restroom, just like Alice at Cat and Mouse. She stood in a stall and pulled a joint out of the container and lit up. She leaned against the metal wall and blew the smoke straight up. After four hits she snuffed it out against the stall divider and put the remainder back in the container and walked out.

As Wendy stood near the main bar, Rusty came to her.

“A woman who came out of the restroom said she smelled pot in there. By any chance would that be you?”

“Caught me, just a few hits.”

“Not sure you should do it here in case someone reports it.”

“You’re right, won’t happen again.”

“You know, Sunday night a friend of mine is having a weed party. Want to come?”

Wendy face brightened by the invitation, and she didn’t hesitate, “Sounds bitchin’, should be fun. Thanks.”

Wendy returned to her seat with a confident swing to her walk. Two women dreamily stared at Brad, just as she did.