The hot Salsa sounds of Santana blared through his car stereo speakers as he idled in the middle of rush hour traffic. His arm swung lazily out the driver’s side window as his hand tapped leisurely to the sultry Spanish rhythms under the heat of a mid-August sun. The summer holidays always felt like such a waste of time for him, and he had decided that was going to have to change before this summer was over. For the first time in nearly five years, Nigel Bailey was taking a holiday.
He reached for the warm and melted cherry slurpee cup resting in the console, and taking a sip to wet his parched throat made a face. "Ugh, that was intolerable!" He groaned aloud. Pouring the rest of the hot liquid out the window, he then tossed the cup to the littered floor of his 1989 Honda, where the rest of the trash and other various items of interest, and not, had been relegated. Where was that floor again?
He packed everything in his arsenal for fun in the sun, and over the next two weeks planned to do nothing more than lay on a pristine beach in beautiful Catalina Island, California. He took the liberty of renting a two bedroom cottage only a few minutes walk from sun and surf, hoping it would meet the approval of his travelling companion…God knows he would never hear the end of it if she were anything less than pleased. He had not wanted her to tag along in the first place, and tried desperately to wriggle out of it citing the need for time on his own, to think about where the course of his life was heading.
After Sydney lost the baby things went into an irreversable tailspin that Nigel couldn’t control no matter what he did or said. She took a leave of absence that lasted a mere two weeks, then returned to work with all the spit and fire of a raging bull! To say working in the Ancient Studies office was a challenge was putting it rather mildly at best, and that was just the tip of the iceberg…
While she was gone she had refused to see him or even talk to him. Sydney was changing, almost over night, and Nigel was still hopelessly lost. He smiled when he thought about Sophie, how could he not? Sydney finally relinquished the doll to him when she returned to work, telling him to keep it and that she didn’t have any more use for it. Well, he did. If that was how she was going to deal with her grief, so be it. Nigel had tried on many occasions to get her to seek some grief counselling, but she just waived him off… that was for people who needed it, she countered. I’m fine… he would have to be a fool to believe that, but there was nothing he could do unless she asked him for his help, so he finally gave up trying.
He had decided from the get go to be normal about the whole process and took Sophie home, resting her on his nightstand just beside the clock radio. He did talk about it, albeit Syd forbade him to tell anyone other than Karen about what had happened in Turkey. Her exact words were, ‘I don’t care if you decide to see a professional about this thing Nigel, but please, keep it confidential. I don’t want anyone on the outside knowing about the baby.’
Out of respect for her he honoured the request, as unbelievable as it was! Part of her actions stung his pride, and wounded his heart to think she could so easily forget about their little baby so readily. It took him a while to realise that this was the way Sydney handled grief. Badly, in his opinion. He was probably no better, and would have been wiser to seek out medical help himself instead of bending the ear of their secretary almost daily for the following month. But that required effort, and he hated the thought of doing that alone. He didn’t want to have to explain to a therapist that the mother refuses to acknowledge there’s a problem anymore…
The up-beat melody of his cell phone sounded off, interrupting his thoughts, and he thankfully answered.
"Nigel, where are you? I thought the plane was leaving in less than an hour?"
"I’m stuck on the turn pike, but don’t worry, we’ll make the flight, I promise." Was his confident, airy reply.
"I hope so." She didn’t sound terribly convinced.
"I know so, now, just make sure you’re ready because I don’t want to sit around waiting for you at the last minute. All right?"
"Nigel, since WHEN, am I not READY?"
Chuckling to himself, he shook his head and turned off the phone, making his way off the turnpike. Smooth Karen, smooth…
Go to Part Two.