The whole relationship was absolutely stifling and I wanted nothing more than to be free. If it weren’t for the nature of our arrangement I would have left a long time ago. My fear was that Everett planned to “pop the question” while I was planning to finally break it off.
After what felt like a lifetime, I finally saw a sign for Julian. In the company of anyone else, I would have been excited about this little mining town that time forgot. I would be elated to walk in and out of little quaint, knick-knack shops, and feasting on the apple pie it was known for. Looking over at Everett, the only thing I could feel was my breakfast creeping up my throat.
The day Everett and I met, I was in a bad place. I had just caught my boyfriend of three years cheating and I was desperate to just forget about the pain of being deceived. Everett was doing a poor job of discreetly eyeing me in the grocery store as he perused the produce section. He was not the type of man I would notice but he became increasingly familiar because I had managed to see him on every aisle I walked down. Tall, lanky, and completely strange looking, I felt sorry for him more than anything. He was wearing these ridiculously thick glasses and his skin looked as if he were a thirty-year-old revisiting puberty. I was impressed with the Cornell t-shirt he was wearing but my admiration was short lived because he paired it with oversized, stained sweatpants. He was a mess and so was his hair. It was in that awkward phase that was too short to call long and too long to call short. It fell scrappily over his ears and looked as if he had dipped it in oil. At first glance, I wanted to look away. Maybe it was my broken heart or the fact that I needed the validation, but something made me smile at him. Now any other man would have taken this as a green light to come and say hello but not Everett. He just stood there with a pathetic grin on his face as if I were the first woman to offer a pleasant gesture to him. I realized I would have to take the lead and walked over to him and introduced myself. He sputtered and stuttered his name to me and managed to create an avalanche of onions to fall at his feet. Suddenly, Everett became a poor little puppy that I just couldn’t walk away from.
We arrived the bed and breakfast and I was immediately impressed. It looked inviting and for a moment I actually almost convinced myself that this would be slightly romantic. We walked inside and were greeted by a heavy-set woman that was almost cliché in her demeanor and speech. She checked us in and escorted us to a Victorian-style room that was equipped with an actual canopy bed and ornate vanity. Everett’s excitement irritated me and I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and hope that this was all a sick and twisted dream. As he unpacked I disappeared into the bathroom plotting for a way to let him down easy and without a scene. I decided that I would probably have to wait until Sunday considering he had already paid for the room. Besides, I figured what the hell, I needed a vacation. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and saw that time had started its hellish waltz on my face. Deep wrinkles around my mouth and eyes seemed to suddenly appear and the youthful gleam of my brown eyes began to fade. The clock was ticking and I was feeling every second. I would be lying if I claimed there wasn’t a part of me that appreciated Everett’s attraction to me. To be honest, it seemed at times that he was the only one that still lusted after me. I can remember being the object of many men’s desires but it seemed that attention was beginning to diminish. It may be remnants of vain youth, but I refused to believe that Everett was the pinnacle of my attraction to the opposite sex.
I stepped out of the bathroom completely over my pity party to find that Everett had completely unpacked and put away all of our clothes. I wasn’t sure what he did with my bags, but knowing him he probably put them in the car so they weren’t in the way. It sickened me to think he was so confident that I would stay long enough to gain any sense of comfort. He told me that he needed a few toiletry items and would look for a place to eat dinner. I relished the thought that I would be alone and have an opportunity to figure a way out of this mess.
Everett really wasn’t a horrible guy. In all actuality his major flaw was that he was painfully ordinary. After our encounter in the grocery store I agreed to go out with him and wasn’t surprised that he lacked the social graces and seductive qualities of most of the men I’ve dated. He was like an overgrown pussycat, afraid and seemingly incapable of boldness. He quickly became a project of my boredom and a challenge. I figured if I could take this raw piece of clay and sculpt a masterpiece, at the very least I would always have a means to entertain myself. I now know why artist sell their art; overtime your creation becomes the bane of your existence. Basically, I dressed him up and knocked of the ridiculous. I got his haircut and changed his wardrobe. Everett’s rawness made it easy to transform him into the appearance of my ideal. He needed only a few weeks in the gym to bring out a musculature stature that was hiding beneath a lackluster thin layer. I convinced him that it was time for laser surgery on his eyes and we got rid of his telescope glasses. I even taught him how to care for his skin revealing a smooth olive tone that tanned very well. In an Armani suit, Everett was quite the looker. If only the department stores sold personalities.
Over the course of three months, I learned that Everett had a small fortune saved up from his work in biogenetic engineering. I still have no idea what that means but it did offer us both a pretty comfortable lifestyle. Though we didn’t live together, Everett happily supplemented my income and even funded the opening of my clothing boutique. This, of course, is the tie that now binds us. I can’t help but to feel indebted to the man because he provided the seed money for my dream. The boutique isn’t doing as well as I hoped and I have no desire to go back to working retail for someone else. Regardless, I’m so unhappy with a man who sense of spontaneity is to carefully and meticulously plan a trip close enough for us to drive home “in the event of an emergency.”
I decided to use my time to take a long hot bath and formulate a plan to end the trip with the least amount of drama possible. I opened one of the drawers and noticed that Everett had placed a single red rose on top of my clothes. I smiled. I even noticed that he bought me new lingerie for the trip. That was one of things that irritated me about Everett; he really did have the ability to be very sweet. It made it hard to be mad at him and even harder to replace him. I’m not one of those women who want the “bad boy” I just want a man who takes control and displays a bit of authority in the relationship. Everett had the tendency to be a bit of a pushover, which drove me nuts.
I retrieved a pair of panties and passed on the sexy lingerie and opted for flannel pants and one of his t-shirts instead. I didn’t want Everett to get the wrong idea. I walked over to the bed hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep before Everett returned. On the pillow was a small note with my name on it. I was sure that when I opened it I would find some thoughtful note from Everett expressing his excitement for the weekend. I held the note close to my nose enjoying the scent of Tea Rose, my favorite perfume. Suddenly, something came over me that I wasn’t ready for. Suddenly, my eyes began to water because I realized that Everett was a good man and I was about to blow it.
The man I was dating when I met Everett was abusive both mentally and physically. Everett wouldn’t dream of saying or doing anything to hurt me. In an instant I decided that I was tired of sabotaging good relationships and believing that drama was equivalent to love. Everett was trying. He still went to the gym regularly and even bought designer clothes on his own. He actually made every effort he could to prove that he wanted to be with me. I, on the other hand, gave him very little credit for his efforts. I decided that I would give Everett and myself another chance at love. No more being impossible with Everett and no more treating him like a child. Maybe if I gave him the respect he deserved he would be the man I’ve always wanted. I ran to the dresser and changed into the lingerie. I sprayed Tea Rose on all the places I wanted Everett to kiss and put a little lip-gloss on, hoping to entice him to kiss me. I turned on the radio he brought and was impressed with his choice of music. I got under the covers and slipped off my panties. I held Everett’s note on my chest and decided I would have him read it to me when he got back to the room. When the doorknob turned, I was excited about a life with the man I was creating…
Julian is about an hour, beautiful drive from my home in northern San Diego. I've traveled to this sleepy, mining town a few times over the years and really enjoy it. I saw this hotel and just had to take a few snap shots of it. I thought the sign spoke volumes about the town and the people in it, a subtle contrast that couldn't be ignored. Hotels are intriguing and extremely provocative. Because of their large turnover there are several hundred stories in each room. This story is a lot like the town of Julian, a tale of perception. Enjoy this random act of prose...
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