My Imaginary Life

- fiction

Samantha dug her toes deeper into the sand and sipped again from the too hot cup of coffee she had poured moments before. She couldn't decide what smelled better, the fragrant aroma of the flavored coffee or the ocean. Maybe it was a combination of both.

In a million years she never thought she would have ever ended up here. It had been dream many times on the days when everything just seemed against her. "I just want to run away and open a coffee shop/bookstore on a beach where people can bring their dogs sit and read and have something to drink." The owner of the building was still waiting for the approval on the liquor license she had convinced him to get so they could stay open a later and have later night reading groups meet with wine and cheese, but for now the islanders seemed happy with the new addition. Many mornings they were sitting on the beach in front of her stoop before she even opened and many staying for hours, seemingly with no jobs to get to.

She was often reminded of the reality that she left back home whenever she looked at her dog Booker, a fitting name for someone who loved books with the passion she did. He was one of the few belonging that she fought long and hard for in the divorce. It was supposed to be easier - after all she had worked the many years that he was in school, but in the end it cumulated as many divorces do in a debate over who gets what,

"I want the new living room set and the oriental in the bedroom."
"Well you can have those things but I get the dog no question there."
"The dog?" he had shouted, "what the hell are you going to do with a dog on an ISLAND?"
"It doesn't matter Samantha shouted, I GET THE DOG."

In the end, Samantha got the dog. The dog and her books were all she ever really wanted, and her journals. To remind her that it wasn't all bad. To highlight to herself that she should have done this years ago but was too afraid, scared to leave the closeness of what she knew. Even though things never felt "quite right" it felt better than being alone and being close to her family was so comforting even though in some respects it made it harder to walk out the door.

Samantha and her husband set up some "non-negotaibles" for their marriage, things that once done would be the end of the marriage. While she thought silly to even need to mention at the time something nagged at her that it was necessary so they were verbalized. So when one day, ten years into their marriage Samantha came home to a flood of words trying to negotiate one of the non-negotiables, it was with extreme reserve and calm that she went upstairs packed a bag, leashed the dog and walked out the door. Her last words to her husband were, "Non-negotiable means you cannot negotiate, my love."

Nine months later Samantha finds herself absorbing the warm sun on her face, even though it was still chilly enough for a light sweater. She thinks back through the last nine months and realizes she is at peace with herself - perhaps for the first time ever. Her parents would be arriving in a few days to stay a week, and she was glad, leaving her family behind was so much harder than leaving her husband, but she needed to be away. She needed to prove to herself that she could do this in her way and so far she has.

In the past nine months she has found a place to live a small, garden apartment about 1/2 mile from the beach where the cafe is. At first the cafe was just looking for waitresses and she gladly took the position happy for the pay and the socialization it brought. Over the months she began bringing more and more of her books into the cafe and shelving them on the walls for people to read as they enjoyed their coffee. The books stayed at the cafe and many had 4 or 5 different bookmarks in them marking the spots of several different readers.

It wasn't until the third month that Edgar agreed to let her bring her dog to work "as long as he stays OUT OUT OUTside." It was a perfect arrangement. Two months later dogs were fully welcome and happily roamed about both inside and out while their owners relaxed and enjoyed themselves. Not one canine squabble had broken out in the entire time she had been there; it was almost as if the dogs were as relaxed in this haven as the humans were.

Some tourists stopped by now and again but mostly it was locals, many of them transplants like herself from another place and another time. She enjoyed the company of the natives and the simplicity of life on the island. She often wondered what the future would bring. At 36 she was pretty sure she was beyond meeting someone in time to have children but she had never been sure about that anyway. It was always either a financial impossibility or just as likely it was a chore she didn't want to take on, despite her love of children in general.

She worked hard at the cafe and by the seventh month Edgar had made her full time Manager of everything, and he was around only when he wanted to be or on her days off. He was fair to her and treated her well. Life was simple, she was content and she was peaceful. She was happy.

(c)Michelle S. 2007. All Rights Reserved


~ written for Writer's Island

* I consider this very much a work in progress. I know there are several areas I could develop more and make some smoother transitions. All constructive feedback is welcome.