by Ashley Lowe
The next morning, I can’t help but think to myself, “Was this all a dream?” I can’t believe I managed to abscond from my own wedding. Am I still alive or was I murdered and guided up to some glorious version of Valerie’s Personal Heaven? Either way, I’m not complaining. I’d usually slip on my Vibram FiverFingers, but they’re somewhere back at my parents’ house. Instead, I peel off the stockings from yesterday’s nightmare and head out the door with my key to get a quick run in before Ali wakes up.
The morning’s dew was still fresh on the ground beneath my feet. I love the feeling of the soft, wet grass between my toes as I run through the morning mist. Barefoot running has been my private therapist for the past five years or so. I feel like the great Mother Earth understands me better than I understand myself most of the time. It’s scary, honestly.
The air is nice, but a little thick this morning. It’s a tad foggy out, which adds to the excitement of running through the morning haze. I never really know what’s around the next corner as I course through the rounds of today’s jog. The light wind has a slightly flowery scent. I can’t seem to place what the smell is exactly, but it reminds me of the fragrance of flipping through the pages of an old, worn book.
Coming back into the hotel room, I try to be as quiet as possible. I see that Ali is still sleeping the early morning away and her body is splayed across the bed. She is still stagnant, lying in the same position as when I left this morning. I sit down on the edge of the bed closest to her head and run my fingers through her tangled hair.
My own stirring about the room must have woken up Ali. She sits up on her lean elbows under the covers and looks at me with this perky, cheerful smile. Only she can light up a room with the slightest twitch of her lips. That’s always amused me. I get a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of my soul every time she beams.
Ali’s long, champagne-like hair is a tangled mess. Her makeup is still caked but smudged all around her striking face. Even though she doesn’t believe me when I tell her, I still think she’s more beautiful when she wakes up than anyone else I have ever met. Not that I’ve ever waken up next to anyone else, but the thought must count for something.
What’s the best part about all of this? Yesterday wasn’t a dream at all. I’m resting next to the most bewitching woman in the universe. I’m the luckiest lady on the face of the planet.
“Good morning,” Ali says to me as she settles into a sitting position and yawns, stretching her arms high above her head. “Well, I think we need to get organized and plan out where we go from here. I don’t really care to stick around too much longer.”
“First thing’s first. I need to get rid of this phone.” I throw my iPhone on the bed. I turned it on this morning to a massive influx of missed calls and text messages from people that were once my friends or family. Most of the calls were defamatory and cursed me to Hell where I must have surely come from. Oh, well. Mom, Dad and Tom were not on that list of missed calls, thankfully. “Hey, since when are you the planner? Isn’t that normally my job?”
“Ha ha, very funny. Oh, and great idea. Definitely lose the phone. And, let’s hunt down some breakfast first. I’m starving.”
“Not for me, thanks. I’m not all that hungry,” I say as I gently lay my hands on my distressed stomach. It’s the truth. I haven’t been truly hungry in weeks. Everything has been weighing down on my mind and the stress eventually killed my appetite. Now there’s this whole new pressure to deal with. What have I done? I feel sick with nerves.
“Listen, Val, don’t worry about them. We’ll head south and they’ll never be able to find us. We’ll do whatever it takes. We’re both better off this way and you know it,” Ali says seemingly frustrated with me. I’m always the wimp. I’m the first person to get frazzled over any minor setback in plans. I know this was all sudden and it’s difficult for her to get a handle on, too. Deep down, though, I know she’s entirely dead on. She’s always right and sometimes that kills me.
We get up out of the warm and comforting bed. The hotel cleaning ladies left our invoice under the door. I bend down and lift it up off the burgundy floor and throw it in the trash. We gather our things and get dressed in the clothes that Paul, the limo driver, had brought us the night before when he dropped us off. I had stored a pre-packed gym bag with my wallet, a few pairs of jeans, a couple t-shirts and plenty of underwear in the front of the limousine. You know, just in case.
I have a habit of planning for any possible situation I can imagine, even some that are not quite in the stars. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t planning on running away during the wedding. I had actually been planning my evasion once we ended up in Peru for the honeymoon. If I couldn’t escape, I certainly would have died in the forest trying. Anything would have been better attempting to live a life where I no longer existed. Now, I just wish I was smart enough to take the plane tickets from Tom prior to leaving. Ali and I would have had it made!
Fortunately, I have been able to save up quite a bit of cash rather discreetly. I don’t think anyone but the bank knows about my checking account. I’ll tell Ali about it all eventually. The internship was a salaried summer job before my final year at the university. I had been living with my parents and they pretty much paid for everything I needed at the house. I was able to pass the job off as a traditional, unpaid internship, so everything went to the bank save for a couple dollars here and there. If my math is correct, and it always is, I have enough to get us to Florida, Nevada or Calgary before we really need to consider earning an income.
CHAPTER 6
Coming Up With the Diner Plan
