Ally Blaze paints away her turbulent life in New York City. With her deceased Mother locked in her memory, she travels to escape and create, away from her Father and his girlfriend.
When an unexpected destination with a haunting past greets Ally, sh...
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If it wasn't for showing up at John F. Kennedy International within plenty time of flight take off, I would have missed it.
I spent much of the taxi journey inhaling Vanessa's overpowering perfume with her elbow shoved into my cheek. She compulsively sprayed her Jimmy Choo bottle every time the flirtatious taxi driver commented on her fried blonde hair. The spray-point was a sharp shooter, and I narrowly dodged it every thirty seconds. If wasn't until she fully stabbed my left cheek that I looked to undo my seatbelt and walk with my suitcase in hand, the full mile.
Dad shot me a glaring side eye and whispered, "stay where you are, Ally," before trying to convince Vanessa to focus on the city break they were due to take together. I swallowed down a wad of spit as he brought out his deep, husky tone right in-front of me.
"Nessa," he grazed across her ear. "Baby, I hope you're ready for some especially romantic us time—"
I called for the taxi driver to play Hendrix for the remaining five minutes, and that offered myself and Dad a much better focus. I could swear the taxi driver tipped his cap in the rear view mirror as his own thank you message.
"Hey, Ally," my Dad grabbed my arm as I looked to exit the taxi after Vanessa.
"What?" I asked.
"Are you alright? You looked like you were having problems with Vanessa back there. You know she's used to a much different lifestyle."
I swallowed more spit at the mere thought of Vanessa elbowing past her servants and maids back in California. I could only pray they have been having a ball without her.
"Please stop asking. I'll be fine when I get to Nashville. I think I just need a break."
"That's fine, honey, everybody needs a break. Even from family." He patted my shoulder and It was hard not to fall into his arms and gently weep for my Mom. She was the affectionate one. "Well, you're all grown up now," he continued. "You can make your own decisions. I'd still like to walk you to your gate."
"I'd like that," I smiled. He hoisted my suitcase out of the back and asked Vanessa to carry it for a little while so he could privately speak to me. Her heels dashed like lightning across the stretch of land at the thought. I didn't mind pulling across my baggage of sneakers and art supplies, I was still alone without her.
"Where did you put my ticket, Dad?"
"I already submitted it for you," he quickly replied. "You don't need to worry about those things, I know exactly where you're going."
"Phew," I sighed. "It would just have been my luck to forget it."
After loading my luggage onto the conveyer belt, checking in, and powdering my nose in the bathroom, Dad bought the three of us a slice of coffee cake. It was rather charming to see him so nervous to see me leave for my first independent holiday. He often ate a lot of cake to calm his emotions.
