NIP 4

We bend at our knees to pick up our respective garment bags, briefcases and gym bags the exact same way at the exact same time. We have not yet walked down the aisle but anyone witnessing this scene would think we had been married for 35 years. In reality, we perfected our morning routine after our third date. It was in the stars.

“Starbucks.” As unnecessary announcement made in unison. Starbucks has been part of our routine since our first date. I reported on a statistic about 5 weeks ago saying couples who have sex on the first date are 77% more likely to fizzle within the first week of dating. I had a hard time being objective while interviewing the know-it-all psychologist because my experience has proved quite the opposite. And I have the ring to prove it. Mark locks our front door as I press the elevator ‘down’ button. This is symbolic of the day officially getting underway.

“You look beautiful.” Mark leans in for a kiss. I giggle and nuzzle my face between his neck and shoulder. I am certain my head was shaped special for this part of his body. We have 32 floors to the ground level and we take advantage of this journey by teasing and touching each other.

“Ahhhh, practicing to be newlyweds I see. It’s a good morning!” Smirks Doug, our doorman.

“Morning Doug.” I mumble with shifty eyes. “How could you not hear the elevator door open?!?” I nudge Mark with exaggerated embarrassment.

“Your moans drown out all noise.” He grins.

“Lovely.” I mutter sarcastically. I feel my cheeks heat up.

“Are you blushing??” He teases me with his adorable smile. I just shrug. We jaywalk across the street to Starbucks. The sun is barely peeping through the overcast sky.

“Hi Mark! Hi Sari! Good morning. The usual.” States - not asks - the barista, Ashley.

“Yes please. Thank you Ashley.” We stand face to face waiting with all other early morning caffeine needy citizens of Chicago. “Do you have a busy day honey?”

“Oh you know. Everyday is hectic defending the less fortunate.” Mark humbly rags. Mark has worked at the public defenders office since he graduated law school 5 years ago. His compassion and brilliance were an instant turn on when we met 3 years ago. Mark truly believes every person deserves a fair trial. He has been a mentor for Big Brother Little Brother for nearly 10 years. Mark’s legacy will surely be his self-imposed tagline ‘there are those people who find themselves in unfortunate situations and need a hand to hoist them up.’ He fights the fight for petty thieves and career criminals alike with dignity and grace. Mark sees a soul worth defending in every human being. “If all goes well we will finish up the sniper case jury selection today.”

“Jeez. Intense. I feel awful for waking you up in the middle of the night!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You needing me makes me stronger.”

“You truly are perfect.” I tip on my toes and kiss his nose.

“Okay lovebirds break it up. You, take your venti latte and go keep the peace. And you, take your grande soy latte and report about it. Bye!” As quick as Ashley appeared she is gone.

"Call me whenever you have a chance." I kiss my fiance good-bye.

"I promise I will. Knock'em dead today Sari Clarke live from..." Mark winks. "Live from...that cab!"

I climb into the cab Mark hailed for me. Out of the back window I watch as he heads down the lonely city street to the gym. Mark runs 3 miles on the treadmill every morning and has his entire adult life. The daily ritual clears his head, energizes his body and prepares him for the day ahead. He repeats these reasons in this order every time he is questioned about his running…I memorized it. Not to mention his exercise keeps his 6’2 frame nicely fit and trim. I would be hard pressed to ever lay eyes on a more attractive man.

“Good morning. The ABC building please. Thank…” My cell phone interrupts me. The cabbie nods in recognition and pulls away from the curb.

‘Glamorous…G.L.A.M.OROUS…Glamorous.’ Fergie’s singing tells me my sister is calling. Why in the world is Lizi calling me at 6:15a.m.? I am sure Lizi has not been up this early since Aunt Clara made her help the neighbor boy, Jake, with his paper route. 8 year old Lizi lasted one day and then I took over until Jake returned home from vacation. She is my youngest sister so, of course, I came to her rescue. Lizi is not a morning person…especially not now. At the ripe age of 25 she spends her nights bartending and her afternoons teaching fitness. All fitness…kickboxing, step, cycling, pilates and personal training. Lizi is the real life energizer bunny. It’s my prediction she will one day claim the Billy Blanks Tae-bo empire. In part, thanks to this energy, Lizi is one of those girls all the girls want to be like and all the guys want to get with. The other part, she is gorgeous. Lizi has long, silky straight, light brown sugar hair, a color rarely seen on someone who is not famous. And she is physical perfection at 5’6 weighing in at 115lbs. Our other sister, Ainslie, and I find it very hard not to hate her. But, as luck would have it, she has a huge personality and keeps us laughing all day long…it is impossible to hate her!

“Morning Lizi! Or is it good night?” I kid. Despite her motivation, the bar industry can be very alluring and keep its captives out until sunrise. I can attest. Though I only bartended one Cubs season eons ago.

“Try middle of the night.” Lizi groggily whines. “I must have hot milk…I need it. I’ve watched it soothe people in the movies.”

“Why Lizi, is something the matter? Are you sick? Do you not have any milk?” I will gladly bring Lizi milk this minute. My nervous heart begins to race. I’m the worst when it comes to worrying about my little sisters. Our parents were killed in a car accident when I was 4 years old and Lizi was only months old. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to explain my will to protect her and Ainslie, who was 2 at the time.

“No, no. I don’t know. It’s strange Sar. Right before closing last night I lost my…god this is hard to explain. I was dropping everything…I felt really scared. Weird, huh? It’s like I was having a mini-panic attack or something. I was totally spooked. This went on for over an hour! I came home, washed my face, crawled into bed but I just laid here all out of whack. My equilibrium was so completely off.” I can sense the strain in Lizi’s voice.

“Oh god, how awful. Are you feeling better now? Drink some water. Maybe you should call Dr. Stewart and schedule a check up. It could be your blood pressure…”

“No, no, it’s not anything like that my crazy hypochondriac sista. And stop talking so fast. You’ve had coffee. The Sari coffee curse has already kicked in and I am the maddened recipient. Oh joy.” Lizi must be feeling better if she is picking on me. “Anyway, this is not physical. It felt almost emotional. It’s strange. It’s nothing. I just needed to hear a friendly voice. So sweetie pie…I am going to phone Ainslie. She’ll nurse my psychosis.”

“Hey!” I feign annoyance. “Go for it. Call Ainslie. BUT you better have freshly made blueberry pancakes served on Leonardo Dicarpio naked ass at her door once she picks up that phone!” As I start chuckling I realize I have only amused myself. Typical.

More of the story unfolds Sunday night...

NIP 3

“Shhh lover. You’re awake baby. You have officially survived the nightmare.” He for reluctantly stretches out his upper body for a glimpse of the time. “It is 5:12 in the morning.” Mark sighs. “I cannot say for sure I would have proposed to you had I known getting up at 5:15a.m. was part of my future. And today I lose 3 valuable minutes!!”

“Oh you shush. Not this conversation again. I have no choice!” I am indignant but only for a second. “It is so ungodly early, isn’t it?!?” We share a giggle at our expense.

“Ah, yeah.” Mark pretends to pout and again buries his face under the pillows.

“Up, up, up!” I rally. I must focus through this morning’s unease. “This opportunity fell into my lap Mark. I cannot blow it. So there is a bright side to my nightmares…I am happy to get out of bed for once.” Actions speak louder than words so I toss the covers off of myself. And off of Mark too, whoops. He grunts as I bounce to the floor. The sight of him sprawled naked on our bed causes me to rethink my haste. Coyly, Mark reaches out enticing me back to bed. No can do. I am up, although, not quite as smooth as a Folgers commercial.

“Fine. Just so you know little lady, my annoyance towards you fades when I see your pretty face staring back at me on the news…your oh so serious face reporting the day’s events. All the while I picture you this naked and....” Mark creeps towards me. His hands pick up where his sentence left off.

I can very nearly feel his manliness growing on my leg. Butterflies overcome me and without thought I forcibly propel my nude body against his. We tap foreheads in anticipation before opening our lips to each other. Our tongues excitedly play and explore. My hands caress his perfectly sculpted ass as my arms yank him even closer. My hands, my tongue, my desire delicately travel his treasure trail. This exploration is always a new journey. I shove him backwards onto our bed. I climb on top of him like my personal jungle gym of pleasure. Our kisses are deep with passion. God I love this man. We are holding each other’s adoring gaze with every thrust. I toss my head back in pleasure as he touches me with gritty indulgence. My mind, body and soul are in flames of pure eroticism. I cry out in irresistible bliss! “aaaahhhh oh baby!!”

“Oh sweet baby!” Mark hungrily achieves climax. We conclude our rapture with joyous giggles.

“oh lover…” I exhale. I swivel off of him. Our chests quickly rise and fall as we catch our breath. I face Mark with a smile. I cannot get enough of my dark, tall and handsome man. Perhaps, it is the way his crystal blue eyes see into my soul.

“You are by far the hottest woman I have ever known.” His hands illustrate his point. “Do not make any brunch plans with the girls or exercise plans with your sisters this Saturday morning. You have a date with me between these sheets for a minimum of 4 hours.”

“Oooo…well why wait until Saturday…” I say with my lips on his. My eye wanders…to the clock! “Crap! Gotta run.” I leap out of bed, again, and dash towards our master bathroom. Without stopping!

“And she’s off.” I hear Mark shout as I reach for the smudged faucet in our marble shower. “Most women at least like to cuddle for a bit after sex. Not my baby. She gets hers and is off!”

“No time.” I call back as I step under the warm water. I haven’t even a spare second to think up a witty response.

Oh, the hot shower is nice. The water falls hard and kneads my shoulders before rolling smoothly down my back. This is so relaxing. My mind is still experiencing ecstasy as I reflect on our lovemaking. Actually, more like hot frantic sex. I never dreamed one could be so in love and turned on. And yet, here I am, this is my life. In fact, everything about my life is perfect right now. Every childhood daydream is coming true. Well, so long as I keep cool under the pressure of the newsroom. Though, I must congratulate myself, I have been reporting for 6 months now and have yet to stutter even once on the air. “This is Sari Clarke reporting to you live from inside my shower in post-coital bliss.”

Twenty minutes later I am moisturized, tweezed, mascara’ed and hair diffused. I slink closer to the mirror…fearfully. Under the bright yellow overhead light my fine lines are very noticeable…I hope only to me. I stare at each one while smiling, making my apprehensive, interested, excited expressions and, of course, my serious reporter face. I am convinced today’s skin is worse than normal thanks to the stress of those nightmares. “Crapper.” I puff my cheeks full of air and release slowly. I counted at least 15 wrinkles.

“Oh boy, please tell me no one zones in on my crow’s feet like I do! Twenty goddamn nine years old!” I whine to my reflection. Is this torture part of every woman’s morning routine? I suppose it could be worse. I try to catch a glimpse of the positive in this uncouth mirror. I am 5’10 with long legs which I have to admit do not look half bad in these sleek black pants. Slimming, very nice. I am told I am proportional…whatever that means. It sounds like a compliment so I’ll take it. I am fairly thin. I have green eyes. Actual, rare, green eyes paired with dirty blonde ringlets that hang just below my shoulders. I long for the day the producers force me to cut my hair above my shoulders and blow it straight with a perfect curl under and a slight feather. Then I know I will have made it!

“Hi.”

“Oh.” I suck in my breath. “What the hell…you…” I fluster. Mark is casually leaning with arms folded against the bathroom door frame.

“I was watching you judge every inch of your body in the mirror.” I am turning red. God, I hate being caught in my vanity…no pun. He grabs me by the waist and whispers in my ear. “Even on your worst day there are very few girls as pretty as you.”

“Lover, you always say the right thing. Which is precisely why I love you. Are you ready to go?”

“Sometimes I think you have adult ADD.” Mark huffs and wrinkles his forehead.

“No, genius. It is called multitasking. It’s a girl thing.” He trails behind me down the hall and into our foyer.

More to come Wednesday night...

NIP 2

“Oh my gosh.” I wiggle out of our bear hug to run my fingers through my hair in an attempt to collect myself. I meditatively breathe loudly and deeply. Relax. “It was awful Mark. So terribly real.” I close my eyes to lock in the tears. Only I quiver as those horrid images flash on the screen in my brain.

“Don’t think of it Sari.” Mark takes my face in his hands. He rolls his thumbs over my swollen eyelids and whispers. “Think of our wedding day. Picture how beautiful you will look in your wedding dress. I cannot wait to see my gorgeous bride from the end of the aisle walking to me. The most beautiful woman, the guests, the party, the cake…”

“Oh, cake….yum. This is helping.” I sigh with relief and a bit of humor. “I will probably eat that entire delicious cake.”

“I know you will baby and you will look so thin and sexy doing it.” Our faces are inches apart and we inhale each other’s laughter.

“Shut it. I haven’t had cake or anything like it in so long. Damn fabulous dream dress.” I sleepily whine. We lay wrapped together as one. “I love you.” Before I lose myself once again to sleep I think of how truly blessed I am. My life is so full and so wonderful. I wouldn’t change one thing.

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My eyes fill with tears of sadness. The fear and struggle have subsided. I am so sad. My sisters…how will I say goodbye. I will miss them so much. Tears stream down my face. Please do not be disappointed in me, I pray. I am too exhausted and too mangled to win this battle. His knife has become unanimous to my body…the stabbing and carving is more motion than invasion. I have tasted my blood…sticky, gooey and runny. He violated me between my legs with his steel-toed boot while laughing at my anguish. He hunched over me and watched the blood drain from my body. I am dry and empty. Through the slits in my eyes I see the sun begin to peep. Ah, pretty…sunrise over the lake. Please God, take me now. Please make this stop. I have nothing left. In the tracers of the rising sun I see him raise his arm. I come eye to eye with the barrel of a gun. In what seems like slow motion I watch his finger stiffen on the trigger. I am blanketed by a sense of peace. Alas, the most brilliant explosion of light…

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“Wake up me! Wake up! You’re asleep. Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup!” My subconscious screams. “OOOOOH GOD!” I gasp a deep pocket of air which throttles my torso upright. I am hunting for air as if my head was held under water! “It’s not real. It was only a dream….my god.” I steady my breathing. Affirmation. Reassurance. Panic! I need proof it was only a dream. My heart picks up the pace. I grab fistfuls of my lilac comforter and smash my nose into it for a recognizable scent. Ah, that smell…the smell of Mark. I fling my body on top of his. His face reveals concern with a hint of confusion. "Honey…” My embrace is justly severe. “I had another nightmare.” I whimper. I hate nightmares! Tears threaten my eyes but the shock of that nightmare has scared them away. “I was asleep and heard myself telling myself to wake up, to WAKE UP so I wouldn’t see what was about to happen. Or what did happen or could happen or should...”

“Whoa, baby. Calm down. It was only a dream.” Mark hugs my face into his chest. “Rest your eyes honey…they are bugging out. Shut them baby, let me hold you. Could this be the result of last night’s thai food?” He sleepily quips.

“Not funny. I’m serious. It was awful, just awful. I feel so, uh, so ick. So not right. I’m sad. Truly sad.” I run my fingers through my hair, stretch out my neck and hope to find my equilibrium. “What time is it?” I turn my focus to the alarm clock. It is February in Chicago so unless you know exactly what time it is you have no clue thanks to the gloomy overcast days…everyday. Well, I have to be fair, the sun does at least rise over the lake. Ugh, this visual sends chills down my spine. “Perfect, I didn’t want to be forced to go back to sleep! Time to get up.”

Mark moans and I see him drag not one but two pillows over his head. I need him awake. I have to talk. I am natural born talker, this is true, but this morning I need to talk and keep distracted from my thoughts, all visuals and any analysis. I have to forget my nightmare…completely. I cannot think of it at all! It must disappear. And thus I cannot have any silence.

“I may never shut my eyes again. I may never sleep again.” I say knowing I sound ridiculous but am still pondering if this is at all possible. “I have seen Nightmare on Elm Street so it can happen…”

“Shhh lover. You’re awake baby. You have officially survived the nightmare.” He reluctantly stretches out his upper body for a glimpse of the time. “It is 5:12 in the morning.” Mark sighs. “I cannot say for sure I would have proposed to you had I known getting up at 5:15a.m. was part of my future. And today I lose 3 valuable minutes!!”

Next Nip will be posted Sunday evening...

NIP 1

“wh…wh…” Why, why me? Me. Me. Me? This can’t be me. It is so dark. The tumultuous thunder rattles my bones. I feel the slimy, thick mud cramming up my nostrils as my head scrapes across the ground. I feel my hair being tugged to the rhythm of his quick vicious steps. My legs dangle lifeless behind. Where is he dragging me…where am I? What can’t I break free? Why can’t I at least try? The sky is on fire with ferocious lightning. It’s merely a strobe light in my shell of a mind. All I can do is shutter with fear. I suffer the hammering of the downpour…each drop a thorn in my skin. I was stripped of my clothing, my dignity, my flesh. Please make this stop. “puh…” End the torture. “Accck. Accck!” My breath. I cannot breathe. The mud fills my throat. I beg God for strength. I violently flail. My body coils. Keep twisting. Fight! Fight. I am drowning in the earth. Oh my god, I am suffocating. I cannot let him do this to me. Where is he taking me? Let go of my hair! He does. My head bounces on the sopping terrain. “AAAAAHHH! No, don’t…not me…puh...” I shiver as I sense him turn in my direction. Like a pendulum, my head swings on my neck from the strike of his foot. My face is dented in! I must feel my face. I must put my hands over my face. Protection. Where are my hands? I am so disoriented. Open eyes. Open eyes. Oh no, my hair is being wrapped around my neck. “No.” I whimper. I succumb to the burn of choking, my eyes are swelling. Open them! Break free. I need my hands. His foot is thrust on my back…need hands…now! OPEN EYES! Just as the lightning strikes bright white radiance through the sky my eyes burst open. Who is doing this to me? Again, the thunder roars and the night illuminates. I feel everything inside me go numb as I collapse to the ground…he is carrying my arms.

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“Sari, Sari! Honey, wake up! You’re having a nightmare.” My eyes flip open and freeze. In the darkness, I cautiously scan the area until I accept the comfort of my surroundings. I draw in the familiar air of our bedroom and slowly exhale my morning breath directly in Mark’s face. Mark, my wonderful, bare-chested, strong shouldered fiancé is compassionately hovering over me. My knight in shining armor shook me awake to rescue me from that horrible nightmare. I begin to sob hysterically.

“Mark.” I cannot articulate my thoughts. “Mark.” Is all I can muster between gulps of air and tears. I lean forward and enfold my clammy body into his for security.

“I got you baby. I got you. Shhhh. Shhh.” Mark squeezes me so tightly I feel we might melt into each other. The touch of his skin assures me mine is my own. “That’s it baby…relax. You’re okay. I’m gonna hold you back asleep.”

To be continued Wednesday night...

Disguised Reflection (working title)

Let's face it, we are all so busy we only have time to nip off of a novel here and there.

I am bringing my latest writing to you. I will post a few pages at a time for your enjoyment. This is your escape from a busy morning at the office, or after your kids throw their lunch at you, or your significant other orders you to clean the basement or just because you want to.

Disguised Reflection is only a concept. You will be reading it as I write it! Give me the weekend to get my ideas together...

Thanks for your support! I hope you like it.