by Eleanor Tylbor
Although she was physically and mentally exhausted, sleep escaped Sheila. The couch was narrow and comfortable enough but it was the images of Hal that kept her in a netherland of sleep and semi-consciousness. In her dream state Hal's features were grotesque and each time he opened his mouth to speak, remnants of rotten food mixed with saliva flowed out of his mouth. Over and over he kept screaming, "Sheila - why did you leave me? I need you Sheila! Go get me a sandwich!"
"Sheila! Sweetie! Hello?" a distant voice interrupted the disturbing images.
Opening her eyes, she saw Estelle leaning over shaking her shoulder. Her pillow was soaked with perspiration.
"Are you okay?" Estelle said, her voice filled with concern. "I got scared when I heard you yelling."
"Nightmares!" Sheila responded, rubbing her eyes and running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to come to full consciousness.
"I'm guessing the cause is Hal and not some bad guacamole? Actually...given his love for food" Estelle laughed. "Why don't you go back to sleep and I'll go get us some fresh croissants at La Baguetterie down the street?"
The last thing that she wanted to do was close her eyes. A trip to the bakery sounded like a better option.
"Sounds good to me. Know what? Give me ten minutes to shower and we'll go together," Sheila suggested.
"Are you sure you're up to it? I mean...you look very tired..."
"Estelle. We've been friends like...forever. Is there a reason why you don't want me to go along with you?"
"Well... No - of course not. I was just thinking about...your health! We don't want you to get sick or anything..." Estelle stammered, turning her head away from Sheila as she spoke.
"Good! Just gimme a few minutes to revive myself and dress! This is the first day of my new life! Ohmygawd! I sound like something out of a romance novel!"
The hot water revived her and she found herself actually singing in the shower. Under normal circumstances and having naturally curly hair, she would have blown it straight. However, today it didn't matter and she didn't want to keep Estelle waiting.
"Nice to hear you singing," Estelle said, grabbing her coat in the hall cupboard. "Some advice from a good friend? Don't give up your day job!"
"Actually, I was thinking of starting a recording career," Sheila responded, laughing. It felt so good to feel happy again.
As they were walking out of the door, the phone rang.
"The voice mail will pick it up," Estelle said matter-of-factly.
"Are you sure? Could be somebody important like your friend from last night! Maybe he wants to pick up where you both left off before I entered the picture."
"He'll wait. Anyway - it'll just make him more anxious to see me when we get together next time. C'mon - they run out of croissants fast."
The phone was still ringing as Estelle locked the door and continued to ring long after they both had left.
It was a short ten-minute walk to The Baguetterie and as they opened the door, the sweet smell of yeast inter-mingled with freshly-baked bread greeted them.
"Hmmmmmm... Almost as good as sex, huh? Estelle said, winking at Sheila. "Notice I said almost."
Sheila was completely caught up studying the display case filled with pastries and long sticks of french bread. It reminded her of her business trip to France a few years back.
"So? What you think?" a deep masculine voice interrupted her flash-back. "Do they look good enough to eat?"
"And then some!" she blurted out.
"We have been told that we make the best pastries in town. You are Estelle's friend, no?" the voice asked.
Looking up, she gasped at the source who was leaning over on the other side of the counter. He was tall and muscular with thick black wavy hair speckled with flour. His smile was warm and welcoming and Sheila felt herself blush uncontrollably.
"I am Jean-Paul and you are?" he asked, genuine inquisitiveness in his tone.
"Sheila. I'm Sheila," she managed to get out.
"He owns the bakery," Estelle interjected. "We're good friends - very good friends."
"Would you like to taste one?" Jean-Paul asked, pointing to an eclaire and grabbing the pastry as he spoke. He handed her one and she found herself devouring the pastry.
"Delicious," Sheila said, finishing the last piece. "I...we didn't have breakfast, yet."
"One should savor all the good things in life," Jean-Paul commented, watching as she licked the cream from her fingers, "and not just yearn for them."
"Don't I know that!" Estelle jumped in. "A dozen croissants, sil vous plait?"
However, Jean-Paul didn't hear the order since his attention was focused on Sheila.
To be continued...
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