Page 6 of Bryce

“I see.”Placing the delicate China into the equally fragile saucer, she putthem on the table at her elbow, careful to hit the place mat that hadwas there to preserve the rich cherry wood. “What brought thison?”

Bryce looked first ather and then at his father who was watching him with narrowed eyes.“I am burnt out.” He was speaking the truth. “Ijust need to regroup and decide what I am going to do next.”

“You are takinga break in the middle of a thriving high peak, in regard to yourcareer? Do I need to remind you how fickle the public is?”Blaine’s voice had not gone up a notch, but the effect of hiswords was potent.

“I don’tcare,” he muttered.

The sharp intake ofbreath from his mother told him how upsetting that was.

“Is that theway you want to spend the rest of your life?” She demanded.“Going off to God knows where to what? Stagnate? You’re aWhitlock…”

“The curse ofmy damn life.” He rose, ignoring the warning look from both ofthem.

“Watch yourtongue.”

“Why? Becausethis is holy ground? I am thirty-two years old and never once haveyou- either of you ever said to me that you’re proud of myaccomplishments. I have several movies that have grossed billions –is that enough? No!”

He dragged his handsthrough his already disheveled hair. “I am sick to death oftrying to gain your approval. It’s a hopeless endeavor andfrankly I am done.”

“Where are yougoing?”

He turned at thedoorway and sent his dad a weary glance. “Home to pack and gosomeplace where my name is not known.” With that, he turned andwalked out, feeling the tension easing from his shoulders.

*****

It had rained duringthe night and as a result, the air was especially clean and sweet.The temp had dropped significantly. One could feel the difference assoon as one stepped outdoors. Inhaling the clean sharp air, Zahrawrapped the sweater around her and snuggled.

The scent of flowersblooming assailed her nostrils and had her smiling. Her bedroom had ahalf balcony, something she had added to the structure only a yearago. It had been a bit of an indulgence but was well worth it.

It was where shewould come to think, to just sit and look over the grounds with itshilly terrain, the patch of roses she had planted just a few monthsago.

The wave of leaves intrees that seem to tower towards the cobalt blue of the sky. It waspure poetry and something that spoke to her every single day.

It was not yet dawnand she could still see the bright orb of the moon, slithering itssilver light through the glossy green leaves. Somewhere in the neardistant, birds were chirping, and she could see the bushy tails ofsquirrels scampering up and down the sturdy trunks.

She relaxed on thecushions and took several cleansing breaths. She had started paintingas well. She was not very talented, but the place just called for it.The entire tiny town was picturesque and brought out the creativity,even if a body was not talented.

So, she had boughtthe necessary items, pads and paints, an easel and canvas to try andcapture the sheer beauty of her surroundings. And it was her time torelax, after being on her feet for most of the day and night.

The inn waspractically empty now. There was just the aged actor who waslingering and trying to decide what to do with his life. She did notmind the man, not even his lewd remarks, which she brushed aside withpracticed ease. She had men coming on to her every now and then.

She knew how shelooked, even though she never spent an inordinate amount of time infront of the mirror. At first she had spent years wishing she was asize two instead of being what was politically referred to as ‘plussized’. Her mother was petite, with willowy curves and smallbreasts. And she had made her only child felt like an elephant.

Comments like: “God,you sound like a herd of elephant coming down the stairs. I don’tsee why you have to gallop. Walk, practice moving gracefully atleast. I don’t see how you can be satisfied with the way youlook. I have gathered a few things from the internet for you to tryand lose some weight.”

It had been that waysince she was a little girl and had eroded her self-esteem and lefther hating herself. But now she was comfortable in her skin. She wasable to look in the mirror and not see an ugly gigantic femalewithout shape.

She had learned toaccept who she was and realized that people came in differentpackages. She had not been in therapy since coming to Flower Hillsand felt damn good. This place had accomplished the seeminglyimpossible.

Picking up thecooling cup of coffee, she took a sip, a smile curving her lips asshe looked forward to seeing the sun coming up between the trees.

*****

He was leaving fromthe club. As a member of the exclusive establishment, he couldreserve a suite of rooms, and he preferred doing that than staying inhis sterile apartment where reporters had been camped out for thepast week.

He was not only oneof the hottest tickets in the entertainment industry, but he was theson of Blaine Whitlock. Whatever he did made news. He couldn’ttake a leak or go for a random cup of coffee like normal people.

He had made themistake of stepping into a hip bar in Manhattan and got into adrunken brawl with a patron and that had made front page news on somesleazy tabloid, which had brought his parents’ wrath on hishead.

---