Syvanna Lee knows what she wants, an everlasting love, her own "Mr. Wonderful." Yet in her precarious quest to find such a man, she refuses to listen to the truth of her inner voice and ends up disappointed time and again. Each "Mr. Somebody" Syvanna becomes involved with opens a new chapter in her life. Each new relationship causes her to look at herself from a different perspective. Each new lover unveils previously unexplored facets of her own personality. She is ready for love, but will she ever realize that to give love, receive love, or even demand love, she must love herself first?
And if Syvanna would only take a moment to listen to her inner voice, she might learn an important truth. As the tale unfolds, an ominous secret from Syvanna's childhood rises to the surface, a secret that may ultimately kill her.
In Search of Mr. Wonderful is a tale of heartbreak, self-destruction, desperation, and, ultimately, of transformation and discovery. Ms. Bouvier has written a novel of intense beauty and introspection that will stay with you long after you've turned the final page.
“Okay, where is he?” Here I am, sitting and waiting for him, yet again. I don’t know why I keep thinking he’ll change. This is his typical MO and I should just accept it. It took me a long time, but I’ve learned to choose my battles and to just let the rest of that non-essential shit go. Oh, well, I’ll just sit here and enjoy this nice glass of wine and continue to soak up the ambiance of the restaurant. I love coming here. It’s my favorite place in the whole city. Quiet and cozy, it’s the perfect spot for getting some work done. It reminds me of one of those old sidewalk cafés I visited the summer we vacationed in Europe. And I love entertaining my clients here as well. I’ve made many lucrative deals because of its uniqueness. You could say it was my secret little lucky charm. Oh, speaking of work, I have to finish writing down the notes from my last meeting before I forget some of the details. As I reach down and pull some papers out from my briefcase, the conversation I had with the girls last night suddenly came back to me. I couldn’t believe they had the nerve to say what I do is so easy. “You’re so lucky, Syvanna! Everything comes so damn easy for you!” Humph, if only they knew. But it’s times like those that make me sit back and wonder why it is that only in our later years do we see the wisdom of our youth? Is this crass tendency of nature some kind of sick joke? Or is this part of a past-life experience we are destined to keep repeating until we finally wake up and get it right? My word! I hope I’ve learned my lesson, because there’s no way I want to come back and relive my past, even centuries from now! I look up and notice that, “Mr. Wonderful,” is finally pulling up in front of the restaurant, albeit, forty-five minutes late! “Well, it’s about time,” I say aloud, as if, “Mr. Wonderful,” could hear me. I call him that because he (and his love) is more than I ever hoped or expected to find in this lifetime. Don't get me wrong, we’ve had our share of problems throughout the years, but our bond is stronger and better than ever. And although totally oblivious to how late he is, I couldn’t love him any less. I won’t be too hard on him, this time. At least he is here and in one piece. Heaven forbid other possibilities. I pause in wonder. Just look at him, confidently stepping out of the car like he hasn’t got a care in the world. And he’s always so damn happy, like the world is his to command. But again, why am I surprised? He's always been a blessed soul. You know, I wonder if he has reconciled with his past and is now living with the wisdom and knowledge to know better? I bet he has, the lucky bastard! Walking past the restaurant window, “Mr. Wonderful,” finally notices me sitting at my favorite corner table. He waves and flashes that million-dollar smile of his. Damn! I just love the way he looks at me. His smiles are so electrifying they can light up even the darkest of places. And when he stands next to me, he just envelopes all the air around us. I have to be careful, because if I get too close, I get sucked right in. There is an air of innate greatness in the way he carries himself. And surprisingly, he has not one bit of conceit inside of his body. What can I say? I’m in total awe of this man. Being a bi-product of the school of hard knocks, I should’ve been in a mental institution or buried six feet under by now. And I probably would have been if things hadn’t changed for me. But from the moment I first laid eyes on, “Mr. Wonderful,” I knew he was special. He has this kind of magnetism that when he enters a room, people are immediately drawn to him. Male or female, it matters not. You don’t know why, but something about him is very familiar and you succumb to his power. Without uttering a single word, he can make you feel like you’re the most important person on this earth. And he doesn’t even realize he has that kind of effect on people. I’ll be damned if I tell him, though. I’m embarrassed enough as it is. I’ve seen the way others around him react. They get this expression on their faces, as if to say, “What the hell was that?” Turning away is all I can do, not to bust a gut laughing. The best part, however, is his touch. When “Mr. Wonderful” wraps his arms around me, immediately I am taken away on a magical carpet ride to a far and very secret place. Mere words don’t come close to describing the experience. I can’t even explain it myself, but my body feels like I’m being swallowed whole, inside of all his love. My head starts spinning like I am on a merry-go-round, and my legs get weak at the knees. I swear, sometimes I feel like I am going to pass out. I can do nothing but hold on tight and let the feeling pass through me. And no matter how hard I try otherwise, the only thing I can manage to get out is, “Thank you, Lord!” The sound of a passing car awakens me from my daydreaming state of mind. I look up and see that, “Mr. Wonderful,” is inside the restaurant now. I watch as he walks closer to where I am seated, each step seeming to take an eternity. As our eyes lock in on each other’s gaze, the rest of the world is non-existent. There’s only the two of us in this special moment. When he is just a few feet away, I stand up and stretch my arms wide to greet him. He reaches out to greet me. We touch, and once inside his embrace, I close my eyes and let the moment take me away. The love and admiration I receive from this man is so overwhelming, it leaves me in pure ecstasy. Tears begin to swell up inside of me as my mind is flooded with memories of the past. I try not to let my weakness show, for my tears do not compliment his strength, but the moment is too powerful. I hold him even tighter as my mind wonders back to the way things used to be, back to the beginning and back to the one night that changed our lives forever.
About Monica Bouvier
Born in Spokane, Washington, Monica Bouvier moved with her family to Anchorage, Alaska, when she was six years old. Her grandfather was one of the state’s first black homesteaders. She studied business management and fashion merchandising at UAA in Anchorage and has worked at various roles in media, sales, marketing, and television programming for over twenty years. Currently, she is the traffic director/manager at KTVA Channel 11, the CBS affiliate in Anchorage. When not writing, she enjoys reading, tennis, traveling, and acting. The inspiration for The Journey from Myth to Madness came from her own experiences navigating the complexities of romantic relationships. Monica’s motto is: “Keep shouting at that mountain until it crumbles beneath your feet!” Visit www.monicabouvier.com to learn more about Monica and her upcoming book projects.