Page 6 of Escape To Paradise
“Of course he was.”
“He’s much too young. He’s at least ten years younger.”
“Age is just a number,” I reminded her.
After twenty minutes, Rocco served us our pizza. We got Pizza Margherita and wine for me and Lisa. The Meat Supreme for the boys. As usual, they scarfed the food down. These two were good eaters.
When we were leaving, Rocco smiled at Lisa, and Lisa waved back.
I tapped her on the shoulder. “Now, if that wasn’t flirtatious, I don’t know what is.”
The following day, Lisa planned a family day in town. There was going to be music and the farmer’s market. I felt a pang of sadness. If the job panned out, I wouldn’t see the boys and Lisa anymore. And although I’d only been here for a month, I felt like I’d been with them far longer than that.
***
It was getting chilly; it was forty degrees in the morning. Although I grew up in Chicago, the cold was bothering me. I had been used to the humidity in Georgia. I layered up and took the dog for a leisurely walk. The boys were still sleeping, and Lisa was doing her early morning yoga.
I was walking our usual trail, and it made me sad I wouldn’t be walking Bacon anymore. Although he was an eight-year-old dog, he was always full of energy. He loved his walks, and I loved to indulge him. It made me feel downcast that I would not be on these walks in the forest or spend time with a loving family anymore. I’d be gone for six months, potentially eight months or more. I’d be living and working in a country I had no ties to.
These walks had been healing for me, too. I would walk with the dog sometimes for over an hour or two and just cried and cried. It felt good to just release all the emotions from my breakup. The forest seemed like a safe space for me to grieve in silence. This day was no different. I just allowed the tears to roll down my face.
I tried not to think about the life I had left behind—Benoit, my restaurant, and my house. I had also been leaving voicemails to my mom. And today was no exception.
“Hey, Mom. I hope you don’t think I’m being irrational. But I’m leaving America to work as a chef for a yacht. I hope you’re not disappointed with me. I just couldn’t stay in Savannah any longer. I don’t know what lies ahead for me in the Caribbean, but it would be a different world for sure. Wish me luck, Mom. I love you.”
When I got back to Lisa’s house, the boys were already awake and ready. Lisa had decided we were going to get breakfast at the market. We squeezed into Lisa’s tiny red car. The town center was a mere ten-minute drive away. When we got out, I held Beckett’s hand. There was a stand at the farmer’s market that sold Belgian waffles. We all got waffles with different toppings. Lisa and I opted for the fruit toppings, but the boys had chocolate and nuts. Lisa and I got a hot coffee from a coffee stand, and the boys got chocolate milk. We then walked close to the stage. There was a band already playing their set; they played country music.
We bumped into one of Lisa’s friends, Laura, and she introduced me to her. Laura used to be in the army. She’s a heavy-set woman with red hair. She was also six feet three and towered over the crowd. As one of the event organizers, she informed us we could occupy one of the vacant plastic tables.
There were tables close to the stage, but it was a long communal table. We sat across a group of four guys. It was only 11 in the morning, but the guys were already drinking. I was directly across from a man who was obviously getting drunk. He was wearing shades, and his hair was thinning. He had a round-ish face, but it was reddish already.
He looked at me and said, “What’s your name, sweetie?” Already, he was slurring his speech.
I didn’t respond as I was getting uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong with you? Cat got your tongue?” He was starting to spill his beer.
Lisa heard the rude man and interrupted him. “Hey, buddy, mind your own business. We’re on a family outing here.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, bitch!”
“Come on, boys, Harper, let’s get out of here,” Lisa commands.
We all got up.
But the man still had something to say. “Hey, you! You can’t leave until I tell you to! You’re a bitch, too, and your mother, too!” He pointed his index finger at me. One of his friends tried to stop him, but the man got up and tried to follow us. I was terrified, not just for myself, but for the kids as well.
Lisa approached Laura and told her about the man who was bothering us.
As she approached, Laura turned to me and asked,” What did this man tell you?”
I replied, “Well, he called me the ‘B’ word, and then told me my mom was a ‘B’ too.”
Laura got mad and grabbed the man by the collar. The man was only five foot nine, so she easily overpowered him. He was also drunk and not coordinated.
“Did you harass these women?” she asked threateningly.
He was shaking his head.
