CHAPTER 18
Jeez, can't I sleep like a queen at least once? My frustration shoots higher as I fight the urge of drifting from oblivion when I need it the most. I'm unsure whether I'm dreaming or not when I feel someone shaking me gently. Oh, damn . . . I want to scream but I'm too lazy to even dare. For once I wish it's a dream and not reality.
If I'm not dreaming then it can only be one person.
"Sam, please, let me sleep just one more minute." I snuggle as she continues shaking me slightly. "Ugh, I feel drowsy; can't I just sleep the whole day?"
A soft and sweet chuckle fills my ears. "I know that's why I made this little serum for you," a soothing voice replies, and I wince in ascertaining manner.
"Um . . ." I bolt up immediately, clearing my eyes and catch the blurred features of Mrs. Eleanor's sweet smile. Oh God! "You're back!" I exclaim gleefully.
"Surprise!" Eleanor utters cheerfully.
"Mrs. Eleanor!" I shout like a little girl would when regarding her loving parent from a long trip. I'd love to hug her right now, but I'm afraid I'll be like a crazy fan girl.
Aren't you? My subconscious stares mouth hanging.
"What are you waiting for?" She stretches her arms, and I gape stunningly. "Oh, I missed you, dear," she says warmly, and I go jelly.
"Me, too," I reply with a big, satiable smile. "How was your trip? And when did you get back?" I practically urge, pulling back so I watch her properly.
As usual, she's gorgeous.
"Last night, and you were soundly asleep," Eleanor remarks. "And my trip was splendid . . . I even climbed up to Paris for a day, and I brought you a little something." I follow her gaze, and find a pair of brown ankle boots, awfully beautiful ones.
"Wow." My mouth stretches wide-open, unable to hide my enthusiasm. "Are these for me?" I ask urgently.
Eleanor nods. "Yes. Since I realized how much you like the ranch life," she says jovially, "I figured you would like this gift."
"I love it," I say it laughingly and get up to appreciate them.
"I'm glad you do." She smiles.
Aw, I love her.
"Thank you, Eleanor. Thank you so much.” My eyes beam with delight.
"It's my pleasure, dear," she returns, an amorous gleam in her eyes. But there's a profound sadness behind her sass, and something tells me that she gets a certain type of console whenever she treats me, or us, the way she does.
Is there a story about her life's diary? I can’t help but wonder.
"Drink that Chinese tea, it's great for the fatigue," she instructs, eyes on the bedside table where a small cup and its dish is placed.
"I will," I tell her quickly. I feel like I could even drink a broccoli smoothie right now.
Yuck!
"Well, I let you refresh yourself. I'll see you downstairs for breakfast," says Eleanor while getting up, her smile so healing. "Pardon me for cutting your sleep. I couldn't wait!"
"It's okay." She's just so sweet! My subconscious utters dreamily, palming her face as I do while watching Eleanor nearing the door.
How can someone be this nice to a complete stranger without expecting anything in return? She is a marvel.
"By the way," Eleanor says as though she's forgotten something important whilst at the door. "Thanks for the dinner last night, it was delicious."
Huh? I gape, and she raises a playful eyebrow. "Oh, that one; it was nothing," I reply casually.
"Don't be modest now, Kira. Betty told me everything. And guess what, Liam loved it! He likes rice and casserole dishes," she tells me this with such enthusiasm, as if sending some kind of message.
Or am I imagining things?
"Oh, okay." I only nod and off she goes.
About forty minutes later, before landing downstairs, I pass by Sam's room. Apparently she's also slept in and seems to have just woken up a few minutes ago.
I'm not sure what she did last night after disappearing without a trace. In a split second I wonder whether I want to know or not. I guess I do, as ugly as it may be.
"Hi, Kiki," Sam greets me lazily, still in her pajamas rubbing her eyes.
"Hi," I reply softly, shutting the door behind me. "You've slept quite long."
"Hey, with all the labor work I did yesterday, it's only fair I sleep until afternoon."
I bet. Painting is no joke.
"I see." I sit cross-legged at the corner of her bed, watching her pacing hence and forth, figuring out the outfit of the day.
"And to think I didn't get anything out of it," she grunts and looks pretty upset, her brows knitted together in a patent fury.
"What do you mean?" I ask quickly.
Maybe quicker than intended.
Sam sits beside me in an instant, takes a deep sigh and says, "Remember I said I'd ask him out?"
"Yes?" I retort wryly. How could I possibly forget this? It's the reason why I buried myself yesternight.
"Well, I didn't," she snaps, then stands up as quickly as she's sat down. Oh boy! "I don't know how to do it, Kira." She glances at me.
"Um, what do you mean? Isn't that why you went with him?"
"I mean, it's like I'm scared of him," Sam proceeds, sighing soundly, and bites her lower lip savagely.
"Oh." Admittedly I'm somewhat relieved, but I also wish she'd told him already and get it over with.
"He's indifferent. I mean, yes, he does treat me well," Sam says, leaning against the wall with arms crossed on the chest. I swallow hard, waiting for more. "He talks less, but he listens more; well, even though I talk like a machine sometimes, he still does listen."
"Oh," I breathe, licking my lip nervously. "So, what's the problem?" I breathe.
"The problem is . . . it's like he's trying to put a visible boundary between us whenever were together and it scares me. He's there, so close, but then he's not." Sam's voice is truly laced with disappointment.
"What if he doesn't feel the same way?" I think out loud, and I could almost feel the slap from my subconscious screaming 'did you have to tell her that!'
Sam looks completely taken aback, despondent even. But I keep my eyes insistent. "Why? Has he said something?" she snorts, a mild anger filled in her eyes . . . the same reaction she gives whenever you tell her what she doesn't want to hear.
"No. I'm just saying that maybe he doesn't feel the same way. If not, then why would he keep the indifference? To play around with you? I don't think he's that kind of a person," I say, clearing my throat. Sam frowns, but just momentarily. "What did he tell you when he invited you here?" I ask, and Sam blanches.
What's wrong with her? I squint my eyes at her quivering lips.
"Kira, I have something to confess," Sam mutters, and I look up at her. She's slightly fidgeting. "The truth is, between Liam and I, nothing extraordinary happened," she says, and I shoot a quizzical eyebrow. "We didn't even kiss like I told you before. We had nothing intimate."
"What?" I widen my eyes, astonished.
"Yes, I lied, just so that you'd agree to come with me," Sam says.
"You . . . I mean, you wanted me to be here so you lied?" I'm totally flabbergasted, even though Liam has already told me so. Perhaps I thought he wasn't telling the truth.
"I've been always popular with guys, right?" Sam says painfully while sitting on the couch near the window. "But I've been constantly aware that all they ever wanted is my body and nothing else."
Oh no! I can't believe she's at it again. How does she not notice what a precious woman she is, or can be . . . if she let her true value shows?
"Sam," I utter, "you're better than that. You're beautiful, the most gorgeous woman I know, and I always tell you this over and over again; do not let anyone make you doubt yourself."
Sam looks troubled. "I know, but still I don't think—“
"But you need to have self-restrain," I tell her truthfully as I believe she needs to hear this for once in her life since I never dared to say it before.
"Really?" She gets up once again, and does her usual pacing.
"Yes. No one will take you serious unless you show them you are. You can't continue letting them think you're this gorgeous bombshell with a great body, but only for momentary pleasure. No! You deserve the best; the man who will love and accept you fully."
Damn, am I making sense? I sigh, and my subconscious is currently on a silent mode, totally unhelpful.
Sam’s eyes narrow with displeasure, but I believe she gets my point. "But Kira—“
"And I don't think that man is Liam," I interrupt, my heart racing vehemently against my chest. But it's the truth, right? Oh, I don't know! "I believe if he were, he'd have shown you already," I add, finger crossed this gets to her.
"You think?" Sam asks, eyeing me doubtfully with squinted eyes, her bangs ruffled.
"I don't think what I think matters, Sam. I just don't want you to continue suffering in silence over a guy who doesn't deserve you," I blurt, feeling angry at Liam for some unknown reason.
"Maybe; but Liam is different," Sam says sternly. "He treated me like a lady. He is the first guy to touch my heart, I guess. Yeah, something like that. So tell me, how can I let go of such a person? How do I forget about him when my heart's already yearning for him? I love him, Kira! I swear I love him."
"You do?" A heavy, cruel pang hits my chest.
"Hmm." She nods. "You have no idea how I kept staring at him yesterday when we went to pick Eleanor from the airport. He's just too mysterious or something. He's someone who makes you want to dig him up, or peel off his layers like a cabbage."
Yes, he is a beautiful mystery.
"Are you absolutely sure it's love?" I ask, for I don't really want to believe it is.
Oh, look who's talking! My subconscious snarls, challenging my feelings. Yeah, perhaps we're both infatuated by him, I retort.
"Yes, Kira; I'm sure of it. You'd understand me if you were in love yourself." Sam’s answer finishes my speech.
Oh! I blink twice, gulping.
"It's a strange feeling, you know. I've never felt like this . . . so needy over a guy, so attracted. It's unbearable! It makes me want to scream at times, let it all out!" She sits next to me, looking excited.
My heart shrinks. "And . . . if it's not like that on his part, what will you do?" I ask hesitantly, my voice low.
"Why wouldn't it be?" she asks, that hint of an overconfident girl overshadowing her face. "I can make him fall in love with me, Kira. Mark my words. I'm Sam, I always get what I want, have you forgotten?"
"Oh! Right," I breathe and I have nothing more to say. I feel . . . defeated and numb inside.
"You're probably thinking that I'm going crazy, huh?" She laughs.
"A little," I mutter.
Finally, I leave Sam's room and head straight downstairs, hoping to never bump into anyone, which is not the case. I meet Eleanor at the staircase bottom and she seems in a hurry.
"Oh, there you are," she regards me hastily while sneaking a hand inside her black, designer purse. "I'm going to work; the new arrivals need to be displayed today. But I'll be home early, and I guess I don't need to remind you that this is your home too, do I?"
"You don't have to." I smile faintly.
Eleanor smiles back. "Great, I'll see you later then." She turns around, and quickly spins back. "Oh, if you see Liam, please tell him I had to leave early," she adds.
"I will," I say before she walks out, leaving nothing but the cracking sound of her corn heels and the fresh fragrance of her perfume.
I feel lost and dejected that I end up sitting on one of the stairs. For over five minutes I stay completely still, absentminded, my head incapable of thinking or processing anything, my focus on the large window facing the garden as the trees dance viciously.
A cold air against my skin is what impels me to find something warm to drink in the kitchen. I shudder, hugging my long cardigan while thinking of the coffee with plenty of cream. Maybe after a cup I'll be able to gain my senses, I decide.
"Good morning." A voice startles my reverie as I get up from the stairs.
Liam! My subconscious gnarl and I throw a glance over my shoulder, only to confirm that it's really him.