Detour Vacation

Sandrine squeezed dollops of hair cleanser, hair moisturizer, facial skin cleanser, facial skin exfoliator, and body cleanser and poured splashes of balancing toner and her favorite perfume oil, facial moisturizing gel, body cream, and a detoxifying clay mask into tiny clear jars, all labeled. She packed them carefully into a pod and slipped them, now snugly contained, into the corner of her suitcase. Moving on to medications and vitamins, she repeated the process, counting each prescription and over-the-counter medication, locking them in their tiny vaults, and placing each neatly inside their packing pod for safe transport.

She had already gone down the list of items they would need, in the car, and any hotels they would stay at. Now that she’d finished toiletries, she could move on to clothing and then would get to rounding up anything they were still using, like electronics and chargers, tomorrow before they left.

Sandrine loved to travel, but this trip was weighing heavy on her knotted shoulders. She loved to be in control… not in control per se, just in charge… OK, that didn’t exactly sound great either… she just liked to organize everything and make sure every aspect of the event would be taken care of. Surprises just made her uneasy was all.

She usually made an itinerary binder with locations they would be staying, restaurant options, road maps, pockets to hold paper stubs, and receipts from the trip, the whole nine yards. She was used to planning everything. It was one of the best parts of going on vacation for Sandrine.

Unfortunately, this go-round, Samantha insisted she would plan everything. It had been a nerve-wracking marathon getting to the day of embarkation. Samantha had evaded almost every single question she was asked. Even the type of vacation she was planning was tough on Sandrine.

“A road trip. Is a road trip even a vacation?”

That sentence had started a fight that didn’t end where one would have wanted it to. In fact, that statement alone was probably how Sandrine had lost control of the vacation entirely. So here she was, “packing light” and with no clear picture of what they would be doing or where they would be going. That was literally an impossible task.

All she could do was stare periodically at the single duffle bag Samantha had pulled out that morning but had not even begun to pack. They were leaving tomorrow; it was infuriating that Sam could look Sandrine in the eyes and tell her she supposedly “had everything in hand” but hadn’t packed one single item yet.

She hadn’t loaded the items they wouldn’t be using before they left into the car. Was it so hard to put a tote with the lap blankets, books, trash bags, tissues, and everything else we would need into the backseat? She hadn’t told her any of their stops! It was like Sam wanted to say she was planning the vacation while leaving all of the work to Sandrine.

It finally became too much for her, and Sandrine started packing both of their clothes at the same time once it came time for packing clothes. Samantha walked in on Sandrine in the midst of mumbling under her breath about weather conditions and packing two pairs of pants, shorts, as well as every length of top, and a few sweaters for good measure.

“What are you doing? I told you I had everything well in hand. I am more than capable of packing my own bag, and why do you think I need so many pairs of pants? We will only be gone for a week. I need two pairs of jeans max, a few tops, and something to sleep in.”

“Alright, so we are going somewhere cooler? I can put back all of the shorts. What about the bathing suits?”

Sandrine started shifting items on the bed and in her bag around and putting them away.

“ OMG, Sandi. I literally don’t know where we are going yet. I didn’t want to tell you until we were on the road, but that is the surprise. I call it Detour Vacation!”

Samantha threw up her arms, a massive smile on her face.

Horrified, Sandrine backed away, dropping the tank top and bathing suit she’d grabbed on a second pass over the bags.

“You what? You just didn’t plan the vacation and said you did? I knew I should have planned a backup just in case.”

Sandrine’s look of horror turned to anger and betrayal, suddenly seeing dozens of instances of Samantha brushing off her concerns flashing before her eyes. Those scenes weren’t the only thing flashing. Red splashes tinged the memories, and the heat of blood rising to her face forced Sandrine to sit down and put her head between her legs.

“OUT, just get OUT!” Sandrine pointed at the door to their bedroom, desperately trying to choke air down her windpipe.

Samantha, stunned, turned and left in hurt silence. All of Sandrine’s nagging and obsessive control over all of their previous vacations ran through her head. Sandrine couldn’t even give her one vacation to relax and see the sights.

Tears seared her face.

She treats me like I’m a child, like everything I do is some attack on her, but I’m trying to have a happy life too, you know? Samantha thought to herself

“I just want to have a happy life too!”

She yelled impotently at the door from the sofa, realizing it would only make things worse before trailing off and hearing the wailing intensify from behind the shining plank of modern architecture featuring a red line in the center. It was referred to as “a door,” though it barely functioned, and it made Samantha irrationally angry every time it was shut because it meant she would have to struggle to open it again.

Instead of waiting to hear the verdict on whether or not Sandrine would decide to come on the perfect vacation she promised her, Samantha grabbed a handful of clean clothes out of the dryer, stuffed them into a grocery bag, and left a note on the counter.

Gone on my detour vacation, Don’t know why I thought you would want to go with me. Sorry, I fucked up as usual. See you in a week when I get back. Love you,

Samantha

To Be Continued…

K.B. Silver

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