by Carol Ann Kauffman
Episode One Confusion
Okay, where the hell am I? She opened her eyes and didn't recognize her dimly lit surroundings. She looked out the window.
It was still dark outside, very cloudy, not a star in the sky. She was lying in bed. Naked. And judging from the smell of the lavender scent on the perfectly ironed, high thread-count sheets and pillowcases, she was either in a very high-end luxury hotel or in one of Martha Stewart's guest rooms. A snore interrupted her thoughts. She glanced over at the noisy lump lying beside her. Nope. Didn't recognize him.
There's a very strong possibility, she said to herself, that I've been teleported back to the free-loving sixties. She got up to go to the bathroom. A glint of gold caught her eye from the ring finger of her left hand. I'm married? Oh, shit! When did THIS happen? This isn't the sixties! This must be Vegas, Baby! She crept quietly into the bathroom, closed the door, and snapped on the light. Definitely a hotel. Antiseptic. Martha Stewart's guest bathroom would have scented candles and a sense of style, hospitality, and luxury. And not so much white. White walls, white floor, white towels, white shower curtain. A rather bizarre-looking attachment on the faucet, and another one on the showerhead. She looked in the mirror.
Yikes! Well, I give that bony lump sleeping beside me credit for marrying me when I look so bad! Good Grief! HE must be a total loser! She examined her dull, spotty complexion, wild Einstein hair, and the bags under her eyes. She rehearsed her speech to Bony Lump.
"Hey! Bozo! Whatever happened between us, it was just some bizarre mistake. Gather your things and get the hell out of here! I'll contact my lawyer to annul this fiasco as soon as I get home. Now go!" Then she would point to the door for dramatic effect.
As soon as I get home. Home? Where was home? She couldn't remember. She looked back at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn't remember where she lived, or how she got here. She couldn't remember where she worked, or what she drove.
Hmmm. did Bony Lump drug me? Did he drug me, take advantage of me, and then, MARRY me? No, no, why would he do that? That makes absolutely no sense. She wiggled the gold ring with a very decent-sized brilliant cut diamond in the center. Weighty. Expensive. Good fit. And… slightly familiar. She thought it was very beautiful. Oh, look, a tan line! Now, how can that be? This has to be a dream. She snapped off the light and crept silently back into bed and sighed. The sooner I go back to sleep, the sooner I’ll wake up, and this bad dream will be over. Bony Lump rolled over and pulled her to him gently, hugging her, patting her shoulder.
"It was just a nightmare, Love. I'm right here. You're safe," he whispered sweetly in a sleepy voice. "Go back to sleep. I’ll protect you. Always." He kissed her head gently. He had a wonderful voice. British accent. Kind. Reassuring. Gentle. Very touching. And so she did. She fell asleep in his arms, with her hand on his chest.