Inkwell confessions, p.8
Inkwell Confessions, page 8
There was also Angie. Dedra would be gone for a week, giving Angie plenty of time to zero in on Sam. She wouldn’t be here to protect him. Could he protect himself from Angie? Did he even want to?
“Enough about Sam!” With a sigh, she added her favorite pillow to the bag, a minor comfort for the week ahead. Her phone buzzed with Donna’s message, a reminder of the real world waiting outside.
I’m almost there. Are you ready?
I just finished packing. I’ll meet you out front. Thx again.
What are friends for?
While she had her phone, she texted Sam, wanting to make sure he knew where she would be and when she would return in case anything came up. She sent the text and zipped her bag closed. Taking one last look around to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything, Dedra made her way out the front door to find Donna waiting in her car. She tossed her bag in the backseat. Before she could climb into the passenger seat, her cell phone buzzed with a text.
Have a wonderful time. Write a lot! See you when you get back.
Dedra smiled. Sam had answered her.
“Hi, Dedra. That’s a huge smile.” Donna greeted her.
“It’s Sam. I made sure he knew how long I would be gone. He just texted me back.”
“You guys are getting serious. I’m happy for you.” Donna patted her arm. “Let’s get you to the airport. I don’t want to be the reason you miss your flight.”
The retreat’s beach house was a sprawling three-story affair, painted a cheerful sunshine yellow. Dedra’s heart raced as she stepped out of the car, her eyes wide with awe. The house’s grandeur and the sound of the waves promised a week of potential and productivity.
“I have to be dreaming,” Dedra whispered as she walked toward the front door. She wasn’t sure if she should knock or just open the door and walk in. She tapped lightly, thinking no one could hear her if they were in the back of the house. She turned the knob and entered.
“You must be Dedra.” A woman greeted her with a voice that carried the melody of years spent sharing stories. Her silver hair, pulled back in a bun, was a crown of practicality, with a pencil perched like a scepter. Her flowing dress danced around her as she moved, a testament to her spirit. “Dedra Rhodes, is it? Well, step into our little slice of paradise.”
“I am. Dedra Rhodes,” she confirmed, slightly taken aback by the woman’s vibrant presence.
“Ah, lovely! I’m Marjorie Stewart, keeper of tales and guide to wayward writers.” Her eyes twinkled as she motioned for Dedra to come further inside. “Make yourself at home, dear. This retreat is a sanctuary for your soul and scribbles. I’ll show you to your chamber of creativity, where you can unpack those burdens and breathe in inspiration.”
“Actually, I’m so excited to be here. I don’t know if I can relax.” Her nerves eased under Marjorie’s warm welcome.
Marjorie chuckled. “Excitement is good, fuels the creativity.”
“How many other people are here this week?” Dedra inquired, curiosity piqued by the woman’s unique demeanor.
“Oh, we are nine souls in search of stories, including you,” Marjorie replied, stopping before a door. “Here’s where you’ll weave your dreams into words.”
She opened the door to reveal a room that seemed to capture the essence of tranquility. A queen-size bed covered in white plump pillows and a white down comforter centered on one wall. Another wall was windows with a view of the beach. Dedra placed her bag on the wicker bench at the end of the bed.
“Here’s your realm,” Marjorie said, gesturing to the room. “Your bathroom is yonder, stocked with potions and comforts. Should you need more, our staff are knights sworn to aid your quest.”
“Thank you, Marjorie.” Dedra gazed around her, eyes wide with awe.
“I’ll leave you to settle in. Descend when you’re ready, and I shall introduce you to your fellow scribes. Remember, dear, this week is yours to mold as you wish. Whether you seek solitude or companionship, you’ll find it here.” With that, Marjorie closed the door gently, leaving Dedra enveloped in the week’s promise ahead.
“I believe I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Dedra took a deep breath. “This is what I’ve always dreamed of. I can’t believe I’m here.”
Dedra was a whirlwind of emotions as she anticipated spending a week with eight other authors. Previous attempts at joining writers’ groups hadn’t quite worked out, leaving her feeling more like an outsider. This retreat, therefore, held a special significance for her. It was more than just an opportunity to focus on her writing; it was a chance to find her place in the writing community. She also harbored a quiet apprehension about how she and her work would be received by the more seasoned authors, even though Gavan had attempted to drown out that worry. Yet, there was undeniable inspiration in being surrounded by the creative minds of other authors, especially those who shared her struggles. She planned to use this time not just for relaxation and a break from the drama back home but as a transformative escape. The change of scenery was more than a backdrop; it was a catalyst to foster a conducive environment for her creativity. Stepping away from her daily responsibilities, she was ready to immerse herself in her writing, grateful for the chance to live the writer’s life she had always dreamt of and eager to overcome her doubts.
Yet, as she unpacked her things and settled in, Dedra couldn’t shake the feeling of being at the crossroads, both in her writing and her personal life. The retreat was not just about advancing her career but about discovering which paths her heart was truly willing to explore.
CHAPTER 18
Ink-Stained Epilogues
“How is writing going?” Gavan asked before she could even say hello.
Dedra’s voice was light with excitement as she replied, “It’s going great. I’ve unpacked and am getting settled.” She fell back on the down comforter, her laughter soft and carefree. “I love it here. When I become rich and famous, I’m going to buy a beach house and live here year-round.”
“Tell me about everyone and everything. I want to make sure you leave your room and do some socializing,” Gavan insisted.
“I thought you told me I needed to concentrate on writing and not socializing,” Dedra reminded him.
“Take a break now and then.”
Gavan’s teasing insistence on socializing made Dedra smile. “Fine,” she said with a laugh. “Since you know everyone here, do you want me to tell them all hello from you?”
“Yes, please. I know you’re going to like all of them. How are you doing without Sam around?” Gavan laughed.
She sat up, the thought of Sam momentarily casting a shadow over her spirits. “Where did that come from?” She paused. “I came here to write. I haven’t thought about him since I got here.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” he scoffed.
Dedra scrunched her nose. “All right. That’s a lie. I have thought about him. Wondered how he’s doing and if Angie has gotten her claws in him yet.”
“Well, I know he’s thinking about you,” Gavan said.
“What are you talking about?”
“He might have texted me and asked me for the address of where you are.”
“Why would he do that?” Her confusion deepened. Her heart fluttered with apprehension and hope.
“I’m not sure,” Gavan said.
“Did you give it to him?” She couldn’t imagine why Sam would want the address.
“Of course I did. You would have shot me if I hadn’t.”
“You don’t think he’s going to show up here, do you?” she asked, wondering why he would inquire about her.
“I didn’t ask why he needed the information. I’m sure it’s for a good reason,” Gavan said.
“Now you have me worried.” Dedra stood and began pacing around the room. “What am I going to do if he shows up here?”
There was a knock at the bedroom door.
“Someone’s at my door,” Dedra whispered.
“Answer it!” Gavan exclaimed.
“What if it’s Sam?”
“Let him in!” Gavan’s voice was firm.
She opened the door to one of the staff holding a bouquet.
“These arrived just now for you. They’re beautiful. Someone must be thinking of you,” the woman said with a smile as she handed Dedra the flowers.
“Thank you,” Dedra replied.
“Flowers, huh? Are they pretty?” Gavan asked.
“They’re gorgeous, and they smell wonderful.” She placed them on the nightstand and took the card from the holder. “They’re from Sam,” Dedra whispered after reading the card, her voice a mixture of surprise and warmth.
“What does the card say?” Gavan asked.
Have a good time and write. Sam.
“How sweet,” Dedra said.
“I’m going to let you go. I believe you have someone else you need to call. Good job, Sam.” Gavan ended their call.
Dedra phoned Sam, her heart skipping a beat as his voice filled the room.
“Hi, Sam. The flowers are beautiful. Thank you.”
“I thought you might need something to brighten your room while you were there.”
The sound of his voice brought down her stress level, and she sighed. “It was so nice of you to think of me. They definitely brighten the room.”
“Enjoy them.” Sam paused. “I know you’re busy. I just wanted you to know you’re missed. I’ll let you go. I don’t want to keep you from writing. I’ll see you when you get back. We can have dinner together.”
“I’d like that. Thanks again,” Dedra said.
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you when you get home.”
She didn’t want their call to end, but she knew if she was going to get any writing done this week, she couldn’t be thinking about Sam. If she eventually wrote him into her book, could she have a relationship with him? She wanted to make sure she knew who he was and how she felt about him before his character made an appearance.
Dedra descended the stairs, hoping to explore more of the house. She was sure there was so much more and didn’t want to miss anything. She was also hungry and hoped she could find something to eat. The one thing she hadn’t thought to pack was her favorite foods to snack on while she was writing: Cheez-its and mixed nuts.
“I see you’re settled in,” Marjorie said, her tone warm and inviting. She stood by one of the sliding doors, her flowing dress catching the light.
“I am. It’s beautiful here,” Dedra said.
“Why don’t you come out and meet everyone? Most of the other authors are here. We’re having an afternoon snack and some drinks.”
“I would love to.” Dedra followed her out the sliding doors.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Dedra Rhodes. She’ll be joining us for the week. She’s in the second-floor room at the top of the stairs. I’ll let everyone introduce themselves. First, why don’t you tell us about you?” Marjorie took one of the deck chairs.
As she glanced around at her fellow authors, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of uncertainty. Some of their expressions were signs of encouragement. Some avoided her gaze altogether. Was this where she truly belonged? Was she ready for this leap? Gavan’s persuasive words nudging her towards this retreat stirred the question of whether he saw a potential in her that she was ready to embrace or had she been pushed into something beyond her readiness? She steadied her nerves. This was a crucial moment, a turning point. Whether she found her footing amongst these seasoned authors or not, this experience was bound to shape her journey as a writer.
“I’m thrilled to be here. My agent, Gavan Goode, mentioned this retreat to me. He told me to say hello to all of you. He thought it would be good for me to come here to get some writing done on my current work-in-progress.”
A man sitting by Marjorie spoke up, “I’ve submitted a few things to Gavan. He rejected both of them. I’m James Parkwood, by the way.” He held up his drink and nodded. His piercing green eyes starkly contrasted with his black hair, streaked grey around his temples. Dedra noticed a small scar above his left eyebrow. She would have to remember to ask about it; sure, there was a story there.
“Nice to meet you, James.” Dedra smiled. “Gavan is an outstanding agent. I was lucky to find him.”
“I guess we just didn’t click,” James said, his composure confident yet relaxed. “I would like an agent who appreciates my abilities.”
“Continue telling us about yourself, Dedra,” Marjorie interrupted.
“I just sold my first book. It will be out next fall. Things are still in the works, so I will share very little about it. What I’m working on now is a story of four friends and how their lives intertwine. It was an idea Gavan and I agreed on. He thinks he might already have it sold, so I need to write it.”
“I’m Candice. It’s nice to have you here, Dedra.” Her hair was long, wavy, and honey-blonde, cascading freely over her shoulders. Her eyes were a striking shade of blue, reminiscent of the ocean. “Your story sounds intriguing. I’m working on something similar. It’s women’s fiction about friends. Maybe we can talk sometime.”
Dedra noticed the unique tattoo of a small phoenix on her right wrist, which left her wondering what it signified.
“Sure. It’s nice to meet you, Candice.” Dedra spotted some crackers and cheese on the table in front of her. “I hope you don’t mind if I help myself. I’m starving.” She took a few crackers and placed a piece of cheese between them.
“Where are our manners?” Another man stood up and walked toward the bar. “I’m Greg Masters. What can I get you to drink, Dedra?”
“I think I should probably start with a glass of water. Flying always dehydrates me,” Dedra said.
Greg handed her a chilled bottle of water.
“Thank you.” She took a drink. “How do things work here? I’ve never been to a writing retreat like this. The ones I attend are with my writing group. We all decide on what food to bring and its buffet style.”
As Dedra reached for some crackers and cheese, Marjorie’s voice filled the space again, her words painting a picture of the retreat’s rhythms. “Whatever you find in the kitchen is fair game. There’s soda, water, and juice. You’re welcome to as much as you want. The staff will prepare our main meals, and we’ll have snacks like these throughout the day. We gather here to share and inspire, but the true magic happens when you retreat to your own space or to the beach, wherever the muse calls you.”
Dedra took a sip of water, feeling at home among her peers. “I think I’m going to enjoy being here,” she said, a newfound confidence settling in.
Marjorie raised her glass in a gentle toast. “We’re happy to have you, my dear. By the week's end, I believe you’ll find more than just words on a page. You’ll find a piece of yourself you never knew was lost.”
As the introductions continued, Dedra felt a sense of belonging and purpose. She was among kindred spirits, each with their own dreams and stories to tell. This week wasn’t just about writing; it was about discovering the shared heartbeat of creativity that connected them all.
CHAPTER 19
Mosaic of Memories
Bursting with an uncharacteristic eagerness, Donna met Dedra and Kendra in the parking lot of their favorite Mexican restaurant. All she would say was that she had some news to share. Dedra wanted to tell them all about her writing retreat, but that would have to wait for another time. She wanted to know what Donna had to share. She was practically bursting.
“Are you going to tell us your news?” Dedra asked as she slid into the booth.
“Yeah. I want to hear what this exciting news is.” Kendra sat next to Donna. “I’ve been trying to figure out what it might be since you texted us.”
The server greeted them with a glass of water and placed a basket of warm chips with a bowl of salsa in the middle of their table. “What can I get you ladies?” he asked.
“I’ll take the special,” Donna said.
“I’d like a chicken chimichanga,” Kendra said as she took a chip from the basket.
“I’d like the enchilada special.” Dedra joined Kendra in eating a chip while they were warm.
“I’ll be back with your orders.” The waiter told them before moving to the next table.
“Now, what’s your news?” Dedra sipped her water.
“I’ve taken a different job,” Donna said. “I’m going to work for National Insurance.”
“You’re leaving Midwestern?” Kendra asked.
“I am. My salary will almost double. My job would be the same position I have at Midwestern. I think it’s going to be a simple transition.”
“That’s terrific, Donna,” Dedra said. “What made you decide to look for another job?”
“I heard some rumors that Midwestern would be letting people go in my department. I didn’t want to wait until that happened to start looking,” Donna explained.
“I’m happy for you,” Dedra said. “I’m going to miss having lunch with you.”
“When are you leaving?” Kendra’s reluctance to accept the change was clear, but Donna’s laughter lightened the mood, even if only momentarily.
“I gave my two-week notice this morning. I’m taking a week off between jobs.”
“I’m going to miss having you around,” Kendra placed her arm around her.
“I’m going to miss seeing you guys every day as well. We can still have dinner together,” Donna offered. “My hours won’t change, and I’m not moving away.”
“It won’t be the same. I always looked forward to our lunches.” Kendra pouted.
“You and Dedra can still go to lunch together. Angie can always join you. It’s not like I’m leaving you alone.” Donna laughed.
Dedra felt a twinge in her stomach. She hadn’t told Donna and Kendra what happened at Sam’s, but she was sure from the look on Kendra’s face that Angie had mentioned it to her.
