C6 Chapter 6

Three weeks after graduation, Marcia is in hospital, dehydrated, in a state of depression, and emaciated.

She is on admission at the hospital and is feeding only intravenously, as she has refused any food; refusing to speak, refusing to even look at anyone.

Her mother sits at the edge of her hospital bed, wringing her hands while her father stands with his arms folded across his broad chest, staring down at his daughter, his heart heavy.

He is looking at the girl on the bed, as if he could barely recognize her. In contrast to her energetic, positive self, her bright eyes and wide smile, the girl on the bed has clouded eyes, dry, cracked lips and grey skin.

How is she back here again, lying in a hospital bed, he wonders, the thought weighing heavily on his mind.

Marcia’s mother, her brow furrowed, touches her ex-husband's arm, and says in a soft voice, “Raymond, what do we do?”

Raymond looks at his ex-wife, a tall, slender woman with black hair and brown eyes, just like their daughter’s. “I don't know Tracy,” he responds, his voice hoarse and barely audible when combined with his usual soft tone.

That’s the same tone Marcia has when she speaks, Tracy reflects; yes...when she speaks, she thinks sadly, shifting her gaze back to her child lying in the hospital bed. She hasn't spoken in over ten days.

The door opens, and a young woman walks in – brown-haired and blue-eyed, just like Marcia's father.

“Annette.”

“Hi mom, hi dad,” Annette says as she walks in, taking her mother’s hand and glancing sadly at her father “Still nothing?”

“Still nothing,” her mother replies.

Annette walks closer to the bed, passing behind her mother, and places a hand on her sister’s feet. “Ah!” She sighs, “Marcia, my Marcia, what’s happened? What's going on with you?”

For the first time that morning, Marcia shifts her eyes to the people around her. Her eyes rest on her elder sister, Annette, and suddenly, tears fill her eyes and pour down her face.

“Oh no, Marcia, no. No, no, don't do that. There’s no need for this,” Annette says, rushing to her and sitting beside her on the bed, wiping the tears from Marcia’s eyes.

She was never this pitiful even when she was constantly admitted to the hospital as a child, Annette thinks to herself.

Annette, four years older than Marcia, had been old enough to remember when Marcia, as a child, was often in the hospital for one emergency, crisis, attack, or the other, when Marcia was much younger.

Marcia tries to speak, but her mouth is too dry.

“Here,” her father gives Annette a cup of ice chips and she puts one in Marcia's mouth.

The chill of the ice shocks Marcia, but she's too weak to react or even spit it out. So, she endures it as the ice warms, melts and the water slides down her throat.

Finally, she speaks through her cracked lips, her voice barely a whisper. Annette leans in, her ear to Marcia’s lips. As she sits back up, gazing at her sister, her face is a torrent of emotions, until finally, two emotions remain: anger and determination.

“Well,” Annette says firmly, “I can't say that I understand how you feel, but I do know that you need to do something other than wait for someone who’s disappeared. There's no news anywhere of any dead bodies and his family is not in mourning nor did they file a police report saying he is missing or kidnapped. So, clearly, he's still alive somewhere and has just decided to hide himself away.”

“That’s not our problem. Our problem, our only concern in this family, is you.”

As she speaks, her parents draw closer to the bed, Marcia's mother, Tracy, sits beside her sister, Annette, and Marcia's father, on the other side of the bed walks forward, resting his hand gently on Marcia’s shoulder.

It’s been nearly seven years since the whole family has been together in the same room, Annette reflects bitterly. Well, that’s at least one thing we can thank this Jullian for.

Out loud, Annette continues, “And for us as a family, we need you, Marcia, to take care of yourself. So, here's what we're going to do...”

==========

Four weeks later, Marcia is at the Miami International Airport, on her way to Europe.

==========

She remembers her time in Europe. Away from everyone and everything. She recalls her memories from that time.

The first few months were the most difficult, adjusting to the weather, to the people, to being away from everyone.

Then, slowly, as time passed, as the seasons changed, as she walked outside more and spoke more with others – people from different places, with different hopes, dreams, and perspectives – she started to heal.

Conversations with strangers – on the beach, in the mountains, or at the store – people who spoke different languages, those small interactions, helped Marcia focus and pulled her out of the deep hole she had sunk into.

A year in, she was much better. Not back to her old self, maybe never back to her old self, but much better. A year in, she could think about the future again.

After the first year passed, she could see clearly. She could think again, she could work.

She tried her hands at different things, but mostly she traveled around different regions in Europe and somehow was able to focus again on that thing that she loved the most – wine.

Wines, vineyards, estates, the buying and the selling, collecting and trading, the wine-making process, the investment potentials of wine, everything fascinated her.

She had even spent some time working with her hands in an actual vineyard; she had worked in the offices of an actual wine-growing company; and had even lived for close to six months on an actual wine estate as a guest of a family dedicated to wine-making.

Somewhere along the line, about the fourth year, she took a business class and got her MBA. She had decided to focus on the business aspect of wine production, particularly the selling of wine. That’s how the new love of her life, Oltre Bacchus, was born.

At first, she set it up in a little town in Spain. When she’d made enough money, she moved from Spain to a little place in France. From there, she decided that it was time to take her baby and herself back home to Miami.

Six months have passed since her return. Her days have been occupied with setting up Oltre Bacchus in Miami – securing clients, arranging suppliers, balancing her accounts, and doing everything else needed to ensure her baby will thrive here in her home state.

==========

And today, out of the blue, a ghost from her past walks in, just like that, without warning.

She runs her hand through her hair, twisting it to one side of her neck and turns to look in the direction of Jullian’s car, now long since disappeared.

She spins around and heads back into the building. Her thoughts race as she walks back into her office; she knows that this is far from over.