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I stand behind the camera and pan the shot across the party area I’ve created on the back patio—and I also keep my eye on the number of viewers watching the post live. I’ve done a pre-launch marketing campaign online, so the viewers watching and liking the live video are already over one hundred thousand and climbing. My advertisers will be pleased.
I zoom the camera in—focusing on the folding chair and table settings—and talk behind the shot in a voice-over.
“Remember what I always told you—the only difference between shabby and shabby-chic is looking like you meant to do it. I chose teal-blue and yellow for my color scheme, because these padded folding chairs I found at that garage sale last month are teal-blue. I coordinated them with this fabulous set of mismatched cream dishware, and the yellow from our lemons—” I focus in on the clear glass bowls of lemons strategically placed in the center of the folding table. “—add the perfect pop of color.”
I swing the camera back to my seat and sit down, picking up the pre-filled glass pitcher of hazy lemonade.
“I’m a big fan of decorating with fruit. It’s affordable, the colors are great and it’s practical. My refreshments for my moving helpers today are lemonade for the kids, and for the adults—” I gesture to the bottle of vodka on the table, like a showcase showdown girl from The Price is Right “—vodka and lemonade cocktails! Grey Goose generously donated the vodka we’ll be enjoying today, and it’s one of my favorites. Vodka and Sprite, with a squeeze of lime is an amazing drink too.”
For a split-second I’m distracted by the remembered taste of vodka on my lips. Of where I was and who I was with the last time I drank it.
It’s like orgasm-PSTD.
It’s not the first time I’ve thought of Dean—he’s been popping up in my thoughts a lot these last months. But like every time before, I sweep the memories away and push on.
I smile into the camera. “Another way to set the stage for a successful moving party is ambiance. Decorations. These don’t have to be time-consuming or pricey.”
I take the camera over to the overgrown bushes and trees that surround the patio. They’re strewn with glittering star ornaments and twinkling lights.
“These are solar string lights from Kendall for just $2.99 a box, and I’ll post the coupon code for you in the comments after this video. And then, we have these little beauties.”
I zoom in on the golden stars.
“I picked these up from the dollar store at 75% off—but, if your local store doesn’t carry them, they’re a piece of cake to make.”
I move back to a tray table in the corner, where my supplies are waiting.
“You start with a simple star cut out of plain cardboard. And remember—Lifers never pay for cardboard. Your local grocery stores and shops will have some they’re willing to let you take off their hands, if you’re willing to ask. Then, because you guys already know I’m a glitter girl—” I hold up a bottle of golden glitter and a paintbrush “—you paint on your glue and sprinkle your glitter. Make sure you let one side fully dry before working on the other. Then, all you need is a string to tie at the top, and voila!” I hold up the finished shining star ornament. “Instant moving party ambience. These can also be used again for holiday decorations.”
I put the star on the table and brush off my hands. Then I stand up and hold the camera at face level.
“And now . . . do you guys want to see the lake?”
The flurry of hearts and smiley faces that slide up the screen tells me they do.
I tap a button on my computer on the chair, because mood music is important. And a moment later, the song “Learning to Fly” by Tom Petty fills the air. It’s a great song—uplifting, upbeat.
And once again, Dean’s gorgeous smile slides into my head.
“Tom Petty’s Greatest Hits . . . That’s my answer.”
A little shiver ripples through me at the memory of his rough, beautiful voice, and a longing, yearning ache echoes hollowly in my chest.
But I shake it off and refocus. Refocus, refocus, refocus. That’s my word of the day—the month—possibly the rest of my life.
I pan the camera across the lake, capturing the glittering diamonds of the sun on the water’s surface and the group of geese that glide peacefully by in a perfect triangle formation.
It’s beautiful. Serene. It already feels like a home—one that would be so damn easy to fall in love with. The awe that shadows my next whispered words comes straight from my heart.
“Can you guys believe I get to live here?”
I shake my head, laughing, and spinning in a circle as the breeze blows my hair back. Then I wink into the camera.
