Page 16 of Pause

Kira’s gone before I can respond. Her down-to-earth view of life always makes me feel better.

Perhaps my imaginary view of life was my downfall. Did I see only what I wanted to see in Blu? Did I ignore reality?

Suddenly, a huge bubble floats up—the biggest bubble I’ve ever seen. It lands on my railing and sits there for a moment as if it’s saying hello. Then the breeze catches it once again. It continues floating upward, a rainbow of colors reflected in its translucent walls. It pops, ending its beautiful life. Short, but sweet. It filled the measure of its purpose.

What is my purpose? I don’t know anymore. How can that be? I always have a purpose, something I’m doing or working on. Kira calls mebusy. I own it. I like being busy.

Now I have nothing and I feel utterly lost.

I still can’t shake the feeling that my life is over, that there’s nothing left for me. I know it isn’t true, but the feeling persists nonetheless.

After this vacation—is it a crime to call it that?—I need to get a new job. I work as a librarian and can get a job anywhere there’s a library. Booyah to all the people who thought a masters in library science was a dumb degree. I got it right. The world needs libraries. It’s not a dying field.

That’s why I wasn’t terribly worried about securing employment after our move to California. Blu already landed himself a thrilling and exciting accounting job there, which is why we were moving in the first place. I hated the idea of leaving my family in Oregon. Now I don’t have to. There’s a plus. The only one I can think of right now.

No, there’s one more. I’m not married to a man who doesn’t want to be married to me.

My thoughts are again interrupted by another bubble floating past. I lean on the railing and look below me. On the sand is Slade with a group of tourists surrounding him. The music is coming from a Bluetooth speaker sitting next to him.

Most of the tourists are families with young children, but there are quite a few adults on their own too.

He has two huge flat bowls in front of him filled with a soapy mixture plus two large circular wands that he dips in the bowls and uses to create long, huge bubbles. The kids pop them before they go very high. Only a few escape.

Is Slade doing a bubble show? Yes, he is. Interesting.

I watch in awe as he grabs a child volunteer and encases him in a large bubble. He invites the other kids to come forward and pop it, which they do with eager excitement. Several of the children take turns being “stuck” inside a bubble, their smiles huge.

Slade grabs a medium-sized circular wand, dips it in the mixture, and creates a huge bubble. He stops its progression into the air by catching it with his wand. Then he takes a huge plastic straw, inserts it into the bubble, and blows on it, creating a bunch of tiny bubbles inside the huge one. Then he waves his hand, popping the large bubble, and all the little bubbles float away.

The crowd claps and cheers for him.

Huh. Impressive. I didn’t know you could do that with bubbles.

I look to my right and see the boardwalk in the distance. Where it ends, stairs take tourists down to the beach. A sandy wooden pathway continues right past Sheridan House. Slade’s bubble show invites tourists to come this way.

I have to admit, I’m intrigued.

Slade takes out his medium wand again and creates another large bubble, then catches it with the wand so that it’s hanging in a downward position. He takes his straw and blows several small bubbles around the middle of the bubble. Then, using his straw again, he blows on the row of bubbles, making them spin in a circle.

I’ve never seen anything like it. All I’ve ever done is blow bubbles from a little teeny wand that slips inside a small bottle purchased at the grocery store. Half the time, the soap mixture isn’t good enough to even produce a bubble.

The children are so entertained, they can hardly control themselves as they clap and laugh. Even the adults are mesmerized. I wouldn’t mind joining them.

Slade notices me watching from my balcony. He smiles and waves.

I don’t want to be the sad girl who just got jilted, so I stand, do a little twirl in his pajama top, and wave back at him. Slade laughs, the sound drifting up toward me.

I retreat inside my haven and close the drapes. Too much happiness out there. Inside I feel as though I’m dying a very slow death. Maybe I should rip my shirt and wear black all day.

I’m in mourning. And I hate it.

chapter seven

WHILE CURLED UPin bed, staring at the wall, another knock on my door startles me.

No one at this establishment respects theDo Not Disturbsign. Although I rather like their clever doorknob sign. It says, “I’m Definitely in Here But Don’t Want You to Know That.” Love it.

I’m tempted to yell, “I’m not in here.” After releasing a heavy sigh, I realize I can’t hide in this room forever.

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