Dr. Jocelyn,
My name is Julia. I'm writing to you from bed of all places. How I arrived here is quite fascinating. I have entered a new phase, a new beginning, if you will. Recently, I had quite a life changing event, and it has caused me to take a dramatically different approach to life. Perhaps there is some sort of clinical term for it-some form of post-traumatic euphoria or something....whatever it may be, it is a part of me now.
You see, it all started last Friday. I had just opened my own bakery a few months ago in a suburb about fifteen miles from downtown.
Baking had always been a hobby of mine since I was a little girl. My parents were concerned when I opened the place, even though I had a solid business plan, and money saved from years of hard work.
You have to understand, I come from a very close and conservative family. We all still live in state, and I speak with my parents and younger sister and brothers almost daily. Growing up as the oldest, I was expected to set the example at home and in school. My folks were not extremely strict, but there was a certain expectation level. And that has carried over into my adult life.
As long as I can remember, my Dad was the bank manager in our little town, while Mom was a homemaker until all of we children were in school. She then took a job at the local library, just working part time to occupy her day until we arrived back home. Mom and Dad provided a good home, but never splurged on the fancy items that some of my friends parents did. Although we could afford more, we always had a 3-5 year old car, and there was never talk of a boat, big screen tv or anything that could be described as a toy. No, my parents believed in saving money for a "rainy day", and the education of their children.
What we kids received, was lots of love and attention. Although we had average clothing and trinkets, our parents lavished us with a sense of family. There was always a cross country drive in the summer, and a trip to anywhere the kids chose during the holiday season. Each vacation was highlighted by Mom's picnics and Dads piggyback rides. Our parents coached all of our sports teams, and were always the first ones to volunteer at school. They even dressed up for Halloween and Christmas every year. And on one of these occasions I witnessed my parents not being their conservative selves. It happened on one Christmas when I was 11 years old.
Being the oldest child, I was responsible for putting my younger siblings to bed. Trying to get a 9,7 and 5 year old to bed the night before presents was just about impossible, but I did it. Dad came up to check and saw that we were all asleep. I waited about thirty minutes, and figured Mom and Dad had gone to bed too. It was then that I figured I could sneak down and just open one of my presents. I got out of bed and slowly creaked down the steps. We had an older home, so I had to be careful as to not wake my parents. Luckily, there was music playing- Mom and Dad must have left the stereo on.
When I got halfway down the stairs, I made a startling revelation. My dad was sitting in his favorite chair, wearing a Santa Claus outfit. My mother, my librarian mother, was in a green bra and red lacey panties sitting on his lap. There was music playing, A Sinatra tune I recall; and beside them were glasses of eggnog.
"I don't think Santa is going to get these presents finished anytime soon" my father said as he smiled.
"Well maybe he should finish unwrapping his little present right now" my mother said as she poked his nose with her finger.
I couldn't believe it, my conservative parents acting so naughty. I didn't quite know what was going on, or what was going to happen. But there was a way they looked at each other that I will never forget.I knew that it was time to go upstairs.
The next day they acted their normal selves, and I never saw them act the same way again, but every once and a while...perhaps at the dinner table or sometimes on New Years they would look at each other in that certain way, a look that only people deep in love could do. It made me feel good inside to know my parents had those sort of feelings towards each other. My friends never reported such from their family, and not surprisingly many of them were eventually the children of divorce.
So it was that love and encouragement which gave me strength to move to the big city. And best of all, my business was really starting to do well, due to good word of mouth. I bought a little place-not too much of anything but good for me. My friends and family would visit often, and everything seemed to fall in place.
I didn't have a boyfriend, but that was ok. There was Roger in college, who I gave my virginity, but he ran off with that French girl. It hurt at the time, but Mom and Dad said Roger was not worthy of me, not a true gentleman. And Mom told me later that young girls often trust the wrong guy, and it was a good learning experience. That you know better when that special guy comes along. She seemed to speak from experience. So for me, love and sex would be saved until marriage. I knew I wanted the kind of relationship my parents had, so I dated occasionally, but never goy close to anyone. No one that reminded me of that feeling I had when I seen my parents together.
The one bad thing that happened since I moved was breaking my ankle. Just last week, I was down in the basement of the bakery, and clumsily dropped a heavy box of flour on my foot. The doctor gave me a walking cast and sent me on my way. But that didn't slow me down, at least not until last Friday .
That October day had not started much different from any other Friday. I arrived at the bakery around 6 am. That was the day I gave my assistant off, so I had to open and do all the preparation myself. Things went according to plan when 7 am came and it was time to open. A few minutes later he arrived.
I never got his name. I just knew he worked in the office building down the street. A very handsome fellow he was. Celia, my assistant called him Lucky Number 7, since he was always the first person of the day. She teased me, cause he and I tended to speak to each other, and he would linger around the store to chat with me in between customers. I kept the flirting at a distance, since he had a fiance. He brought her in once, when I first opened; to try what he described as "the best crepe this side of Paris." She was blonde, tall and extremely beautiful. Her taliored business suit was quite different than my smock and silly bakers hat. And with the flour on face, I completed the cliche.
But Celia said it didn't matter. Lucky Number 7 likes you, have you noticed him bring her in anymore? And she would tell me that he never came when it was only her working, that he must have memorized my schedule. "Oh, and the way he looks at you" she said as she put motioned her middle finger in her mouth....and we would both laugh...she was so silly. But judging by the way his fiance looked at him, and the giant rock on her hands, they had to be getting married, and quite soon. And my little bakery seemed no match for her model looks and designer outfits. Still, I felt something between us. I couldn't put a finger on it, but it was strange. And just like clockwork, on October 19th, Lucky Number 7 came through my door.
"Good morning" I said as he walked in.
"Hello, how are you today?" he replied with that golden smile of his.
"Doing well, and your usual crepe today?" I asked.
"Yes, unfortunately I'm in a bit of a hurry, new clients in town and you know who has to meet with them." he said as he shook his head.
"Sure, let me get that right for you." I said as I slowly walked towards the diplay case.
"Oh my goodness, what happened to your foot?" he inquired with concern.
"Oh this? It's just my ankle, I'm so clumsy, I dropped some flour on it. The doctor says it will be fine in a few weeks" I smiled, trying to not make a big deal out of it.
"Ok, but are you sure you should be working? I wouldn't want it get any worse" he said.
HE didn't want it to get worse??This man was so polite, and so concerned, I was impressed by his consideration.
"No really, I'll be allright.It just takes some getting used to."
"All right, but I'm going to stop by tommorrow morning after my jog, so if you need something lifted or moved you had better not hesistate to ask." he said.
"Don't volunteer, I'll put you to work" I replied, gigglng.
"It would be my pleasure to help you." he said, not joking at all.
