Chapter Fifteen
Alissa’s eyes moved from Chet to Rosie, over to Brad, and then back to Chet. “Wait a minute. Wasn’t Chet’s name on the reunion list, too? Why didn’t you write to him, Rosie?”
“She did,” Chet answered. “Her letter went to Brazil, too. It was in the stack of mail I received that day.”
“It was such a formal letter,” Rosie said with a chuckle. “I had mixed feelings, you see. He had never answered any of my past letters. I assumed he had forgotten about me and married someone else. All my years of hoping and dreaming seemed to have been for nothing.”
“Then what happened, Chet?” Alissa asked. “After you received the list and the letter from Rosie.”
“I’ll tell you what happened,” Rosie spoke up. “He went broke on flowers! They started to arrive at nine o’clock on a Tuesday morning. No card, just flowers. First daisies, then mums. By noon I had four bouquets all over my living room and no idea who they were from.”
“I wanted to spice things up a little,” Chet said. “Women like that kind of romantic mystery. Keep that in mind, Brad.”
Alissa chanced another glance at Brad. He didn’t act as if he thought this were the kind of advice he would ever need.
“At four o’clock the largest bouquet arrived,” Rosie said. “Five dozen red roses. Absolutely breathtaking. And this time there was a note. ‘Roses for my Rosie,’ it said. He signed it, ‘The man of your dreams.’ That was my secret name for him in high school.”
“You must have been pretty overwhelmed,” Brad said.
“I couldn’t figure it out,” Rosie admitted. “At first I thought it was a mistake, and all these flowers were for a neighbor or something. But the card said Rosie, and I knew Chet was the man of my dreams.… It was all so much to process. I thought I was the one dreaming.”
“Then I rang her doorbell,” Chet said proudly. “She opened that door, and neither of us said a word. We must have stared at each other for a full two minutes.”
Alissa could just see them, frozen there, the two ageless lovers, suspended in time and space. “So what happened?” she asked cautiously.
“I kissed her.”
Rosie blushed. “He certainly did.”
Brad was the only one who had been eating during the unfolding of the story, and his hamburger was gone. “I hate to jam without hearing the rest,” Brad said, checking his watch, “but I have an appointment with a frantic client. He’s a scriptwriter, and his hard drive crashed when he was on the last scene of some film script. He didn’t back up on a disk, so if I can’t reconstruct the file for him, he’s going to be hurting.”
Rosie turned to Alissa and said, “I think that was all in English, but I have no idea what he just said.”
“He has to leave,” Alissa summarized.
“Oh, dear,” Rosie said, turning her apology toward Brad. “I’m afraid I monopolized the entire conversation. Let’s do get together again soon, and I’ll keep my lips sealed.”
Alissa watched Rosie’s firecracker red lips as she spoke, picturing what they would look like when “sealed.” Alissa was thankful Rosie had finished her story before she realized she had been doing most of the talking.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Brad said, pulling a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket and slapping it down on the table. “This is for mine and Alissa’s. Leave the rest for a tip. That way we’ll be even next time we meet for lunch. None of this, my-turn-your-turn stuff.”
“Brad,” Alissa began. His paying for her lunch caught her off guard. That made the lunch almost like a date. His intense look silenced her. This was an argument they could have later, away from Chet and Rosie, he seemed to be saying.
With all the strength she could muster, Alissa said, “Thanks, Brad. It’ll be my turn to treat you next time.”
Brad looked at her another lingering moment, as if he were trying to make sure she didn’t have any other little stingers to add. Alissa knew that look. She had seen it enough during the past few weeks. It was a look that said, “You intrigue me and infuriate me at the same time. If I could get you out of my head, I would. But I can’t.”
“You’re welcome,” Brad said with a smile. He nodded to Chet and Rosie and strode out of the restaurant.
“We certainly like Brad,” Rosie said as she picked up her fork and broke off a dainty corner of zucchini bread. “Are you two getting serious about each other?”
“Brad and me?” Alissa quickly swallowed the bite of corn in her mouth. “No! Not now, not ever. Never!”
Chet laughed at her strong reaction. “I suggest you carry around a packet of salt, my dear girl. You may end up eating those words one day, and I’m sure they’ll go down easier with a little seasoning.”
Alissa carried around Chet’s words all day. How could anyone think a relationship was brewing between Brad and her? Especially someone like Chet, who had seen it all. Nothing hinted that Brad and she were in love. Nothing.
To prove it to herself, Alissa stayed away from Brad for days. She heard him in the living room one evening talking with Shelly and Jake. Alissa pretended to be asleep and didn’t venture from her room to join them. She heard Jake asking when the four of them could get together as a good-bye for Shelly. As it turned out, between their busy schedules they couldn’t find a free evening, so that was the end of their planning.
Shelly’s two weeks zoomed past. She packed in a day and a half, leaving a lot of her furniture and kitchenware as a gift for Alissa.
“Whatever you don’t want just add to the garage sale bin. I’m moving in with my parents for the first few months, and I don’t want to pay to have this stuff stored,” Shelly said.
“Are you sure?” Alissa looked appreciatively at the wicker couch and coffee table. Shelly was planning to take the kitchen table she had made with the clever tree-like base. “I should pay you for your furniture.”
“It’s okay,” Shelly said. “Besides, you’ll have to buy a new table now, and that won’t be cheap.”
The day Shelly moved, Brad, Jake, and Alissa all helped her. Shelly had rented a small trailer, which Brad had hooked up to her Firebird. Everything fit surprisingly well since the only large pieces were her bed, the table, and her dresser. With the back of her car jammed full and the trailer safely locked, Shelly stood on the front lawn and started to cry as she told her friends good-bye.
Jake kissed her. Brad gave her a hug, and Alissa found herself crying as she gave Shelly a hug and a kiss. Genevieve and the girls were there, too, and they all started to cry when they said good-bye.
“I better get out of here,” Shelly said, “or we’re going to soak the grass.”
“It could use a good soaking,” Genevieve said, handing Shelly a small wicker basket with a bright blue cloth tucked in the sides. “This is a snack for you. Anna convinced me to make your favorite snickerdoodles.”
“This is great. Thanks, you guys. I’m really, really going to miss all of you. Come see me in Seattle.”
As she drove off, they all waved until the car turned a corner and disappeared.
“What are you going to do now, Alissa?” Anna asked, slipping her hand into Alissa’s.
“I don’t know. Do you have any good ideas?”
“You could take me swimming,” she said coyly.
“Oh, I could, could I?”
“She means at the athletic club,” Genevieve explained. “You’re welcome to go there as our guest any time, but you don’t have to take Anna.”
“I’d love to take Anna,” Alissa said, “and Fina and Mallory, too, if they want to come.”
“Why don’t we all go?” Genevieve suggested. “You guys want to come?”
“Another time,” Jake said.
“I’ll take a rain check,” Brad responded.
“Looks like it’s girls’ afternoon at the pool,” Genevieve said.
“I wish Shelly didn’t have to leave,” Fina said.
“I know,” Genevieve agreed. “We’re all go
ing to miss her.”
Alissa spent the afternoon in quiet thought at the pool, as she watched Genevieve slip down the pool slide laughing all the way, with Mallory in her lap. Alissa realized how much she admired Genevieve. She was a patient mother and a kind-hearted friend.
It turned out to be a relaxing afternoon. When Alissa got home, she opened the front door and automatically took off her shoes. Then she paused. A smile crossed her lips. Shelly wasn’t here anymore. She didn’t have to take off her shoes. But she still wanted to; it felt natural. She would probably continue this new custom for a long time.
With bare feet moving noiselessly across the floor toward her room, Alissa thought the duplex felt empty. Most of the same furniture was there, and Shelly had rarely been home. But tonight it felt different. There was a definite loss. It wasn’t just because Shelly was gone. Being around Genevieve and the girls all afternoon had made Alissa feel a loss over her own life. She wanted Genevieve’s life. Was that coveting?
The next morning when she sat next to Genevieve at church, Alissa realized maybe Genevieve didn’t have the perfect life after all. She had a husband who was gone more than he was home, and the worst part was he didn’t share in her spiritual interests.
Alissa loved the little church. She loved being back in a consistent time of worship each week. If she were ever to marry, she would want to share this with her husband.
If only I could go back to my high school days, back to my junior high days, and start all over again. I’d be a different person today.
Genevieve invited Alissa to go with her and the girls to the pool again that afternoon, but Alissa decided not to. She needed to be somewhere else. So she headed home, changed into her bathing suit, collected a few things in a big straw bag, and drove to the beach—Newport Beach—where she had spent two of her high school summers.
The freeways were uncluttered until she got closer to the coast. It seemed, as she took the interchange on to the 55 Freeway, that everyone in Orange County had realized at the same time that today was a perfect beach day. She pulled into the fast lane and cranked her air conditioning up a notch as the traffic slowed. Alissa couldn’t explain the urgency she felt as she raced toward the water and the sand. But something was waiting for her there, and she didn’t want to miss it, whatever it was.
The first place she drove to once she entered the Newport Beach area was the rental house where her mother and she had spent their first summer. Alissa still didn’t know why her mother had decided Newport was the place to go except maybe that it was so far from Boston. And being far from Boston meant being far from Alissa’s grandmother, who always had frowned whenever Alissa’s mom entered the room or spoke up. Alissa didn’t blame her mom for wanting to get away.
She couldn’t find a place to park, so she kept driving until she spotted a metered parking place she could back into. Alissa fed the meter six quarters, then slung the straw bag over her shoulder, and with determined steps headed to the second place she wanted to see. The house looked the same as she remembered it: clean, white trim on the two-story modern, beach-front home; potted flowers along the walkway; curtains open, displaying the expensive white living room furniture; and a welcome mat at the front door.
Slipping her sunglasses to the top of her head, Alissa rang the doorbell. She pursed her lips together and waited, not sure what she would say if anyone actually answered. No one came, so she rang again.
The first time she had come to this door was to pick up a younger girl she had met on the beach. It was Christy, the friend who had led Alissa to Christ her second summer at Newport. Christy’s aunt and uncle lived here. It had been a long time, but Alissa thought Aunt Marti might remember her. She hadn’t kept in contact with Christy, so she didn’t know if Christy still lived in Escondido or if her aunt and uncle still lived in this house.
Alissa rang the doorbell a third time. No answer. She turned to go, sad that she wouldn’t be able to solve the mystery of what had happened to her friend.
She knew the next doorbell she needed to ring. It was several long blocks to her previous boyfriend’s house, and Alissa felt nervous. What was she trying to prove? What in the world would she say? “Hi, remember Shawn, your son who died in high school? Well, you never knew this, but I had his baby. You’re grandparents; only she was adopted, and you can never see her.”
Alissa’s stomach twisted into a huge knot. Why was she doing this? Was she trying to purge herself of the painful memories by dumping them on someone else? No, she couldn’t do that. But she could at least meet Shawn’s parents and tell them she knew their son and she was sorry he had died such a tragic death. No, she couldn’t do that either.
Before she could decide what she was doing, Alissa was at the front door. She stood silently, commanding her heart to stop pounding so fiercely. The last time she had walked through this door was the night Shawn had died in a surfing accident. His parents had been out of town that night, which was why Shawn had decided to throw a wild party. And she never had met his parents afterward because she didn’t go to his funeral.
How could I have been so foolish? So blind and insensitive?
Tears of regret began to well up in her eyes. She blinked quickly as the front door opened before her. She hadn’t even rung the bell, but now she was caught.
“May I help you?” a young woman with white-blond hair asked.
“I was wondering if this is where Mr. and Mrs. Russell live.”
The woman shook her head. “We’ve lived here three years. The people before us were the Bostellers. I don’t know the Russells. Maybe they lived here before the Bostellers.”
“Probably,” Alissa said, trying to force the lump in her throat to go back down. She should have visited Shawn’s parents eight years ago. Now it was too late. “Sorry to bother you.”
“Sure. No problem.”
Her heart still pounding, Alissa turned to walk quickly down the street, heading for the only other house she knew in this neighborhood. Another Christian girl had lived there and had hosted a party that Alissa went to her second summer.
Alissa knocked on the door, and a gray-haired man answered.
“Does Tracy still live here?”
“Tracy?” the man said, looking confused. “Here?”
An older woman wearing glasses appeared behind him. “Hello,” she said cheerfully.
“I was trying to track down Tracy. I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you.”
“Well, she’s married, dear. She doesn’t live here anymore. We’re house-sitting for her parents. I don’t know that I could even find her phone number for you.”
“Oh, that’s okay. That’s wonderful that she got married.”
“Yes,” the woman agreed. “Lovely wedding. She and Doug were a charming couple.”
“Doug?” Alissa repeated. Doug had to be the most sincere, solid guy of the beach gang. Alissa remembered how he had called himself a God lover once. Now where had she heard that phrase before? Just recently, wasn’t it?
“That’s wonderful!” Alissa said. “I think that match was made in heaven.”
“Yes, it was. They’re doing just fine. Would you like to leave a message for Tracy’s folks? They’ll be back from their trip in a week.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll stop by another time. Thank you.”
Something inside Alissa felt soothed. Doug and Tracy were married. There was some justice in the world. They deserved each other. Alissa wished she could have been at their wedding. She wished she had kept in contact with all these people. They were the truest friends she had ever had. Only at the time, she hadn’t known how to be a friend back.
Still not knowing what she was searching for, Alissa turned west and didn’t stop until she came to the edge of the beach. Then, slipping off her shoes, she walked barefoot to the shore and stopped where the blue Pacific raced to kiss her hot feet.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m back.” In her heart she knew she meant more than just being back
at Newport Beach. She was back in her relationship with God.
Chapter Sixteen
The memories that came rushing to Alissa on the ocean’s misty breath were sweet ones. The best memory was of the day she had prayed with Christy on this beach and given her heart to the Lord. Christy and Alissa had run together into the water, laughing like little girls on the first day of summer vacation. In many ways, Alissa had become a little girl that day. It was a brand new start for her. She remembered feeling full of joy and an immense sense of release. She was sure no other feeling in the world could be more wonderful. She certainly hadn’t experienced any to rival it before or since that day. It was a sacred corner of her life.
Today she longed to go back and feel that fresh baptism of her spirit again. She wanted to be free.
“Make me free, God,” she whispered as the waves buried her feet in the wet sand. “Why can’t I live free and unburdened like I felt that day?”
Alissa wiggled her feet free and went up to the dry sand. She rummaged through her straw bag and pulled out her beach towel. For a long time, she sat, staring at the sea, listening to all the people around her. Images danced through her mind of mistakes she had made, pain she had felt, injustices that had happened to her. The seemingly endless parade exhausted her.
At last she lay on her stomach and tried to sleep. She thought of how God wanted her to come to him. She knew that. It wasn’t easy, but she longed to once again feel forgiven and free-spirited like she had that summer day long ago on this same beach.
It was too hot to lie there. She pulled off her T-shirt cover-up, strolled down to the water, and dove in. She didn’t splash and scream like she had with Christy. This time she entered slowly, solemnly. It felt as if God’s favor were washing over her as she bobbed under the oncoming wave.
This was definitely a sacred spot in her life. Now she understood more clearly that God loved her and wanted her to be close to him, in the same way a groom desires his bride. It didn’t matter how much had happened or how battered she might feel.