Welcome Reluctant Stranger

by Evelyn Journey

  “Okay, two weeks.”

  Rudy said to Leilani, “Go home and relax. You look glassy-eyed. Time enough later to think this through. General Huang gave us his phone number, so if we need more information, we can contact him.”

  “Yes. Call me. Please do not hesitate,” General Huang said.

  Leilani said to her brother, “So, why don’t we talk about it now?”

  “I can’t. I promised Jenna to be home by a certain time. My son has the flu and she’s on duty at the hospital.”

  “You need to be home, then. Anyway, knowing Mamá, when she says two weeks she’s more likely to mean two months. We have time.”

  VI. Reluctant

  Justin sat brooding in the sitting area of the guest suite at Elise and Greg’s house. He leaned back on the chair as he turned off his cell phone. He was irritable, letdown by how Leilani spoke to him. How he had expected the call would go, he could only guess. But after last night’s dinner and that look of concern in her eyes, he thought it reasonable to hope for some warmth, not the cool, impatient response he got. He certainly never anticipated she would refuse flowers.

  He shook his head. No, she didn’t refuse. Worse than that. She thought them unnecessary. But, then, how did he expect her to behave—someone who he thought would “blend in with the boys?”

  Was she the practical, unsentimental type? The kind who didn’t believe in romance? Leilani worked with people struggling with the unhappiness, the little tragedies, and the inevitable disappointments that came with living. Maybe one had to be sensible and down to earth to last in that kind of job. Megan was like that, too. As a nurse, she dealt with the messy side of life every day.

  A knock on his bedroom door broke into his musings. He said, “Come in.”

  Greg opened the door and walked into the room. He sat on a chair opposite Justin’s.

  “Are you ready to return to the city? I’ll drive you.”

  “I’m all packed up and ready to go.”

  “You know Elise wishes you’d stay longer.”

  “I need to be back to my own apartment. I move around fairly well now. I’ll be okay.”

  “She’s less worried about that than about you being alone. She thinks you’re depressed.”

  “Do I look depressed? Did you tell her I thought about suicide the morning I went to the coast with Bob?”

  “Yes. Wasn’t I supposed to? Besides, she also heard it from Bob.”

  Justin scowled. “Your loyal, observant right-hand man―I never said anything to him, but he saw through me. And he did tell me he never lies to Elise.”

  Greg chuckled. “That’s true. Bob is putty in Elise’s hand although, of course, my caring, compassionate wife never takes advantage of it. The irony is, because she doesn’t, her power is stronger.”

  “I’ll remember that next time I open myself up to Bob. But, tell me, do I look depressed to you?”

  “Not last night. You were having fun last night. But yes, a few times earlier this week. You had this sad look in your eyes. Don’t deny it because it’s a look I’m familiar with. I’ve seen it in my wife. You have her same eyes, but … ” Greg added, grinning, “yours are nowhere near as enticing.”

  “No mystery, bro. It’s the longer lashes and that bit of eyeliner she puts on. And love, of course.”

  “Yeah, they all help. But, we’re talking about you.”

  Justin conceded. “True. I’ve had some bad moments this week when I felt sad, when it hit me that everything is over between Megan and me—seven years, gone just like that. But then, I remind myself she prefers women. It sure took her awhile to learn I didn’t qualify. When I think about that, I get angry—seven years wasted! I could’ve found someone else and started a family. I could’ve left her earlier if she’d told me she didn’t want kids.”

  Greg nodded in sympathy.

  Justin said, “When I see you and Elise, how much you care for each other, and I see your son and another baby on the way, I get envious. I get angry at Megan all over again.”

  Greg said, “All natural reactions, I’m sure. Last night, though, you were different. Frankly, I think you were captivated by Leilani. You were ogling her throughout dinner.”

  “Was I that obvious? But, you’re right. I didn’t admit it to myself until this morning. I called her and she seemed distant, and it irritated me.”

  “Well, maybe she was preoccupied. She seems the steady kind, a little too much in control of her feelings, I think. Not the type to suddenly go from hot to cold. But she’s more transparent than she might care to admit. We thought she’s attracted to you, too.”

  Justin was incredulous. “Did you pick up on that last night?”

  “Elise did and I agreed with her.”

  “You two gossiped about us?” Justin said in mock surprise.

  Greg grinned. “That’s one of the things husbands and wives do. Couples who gossip together, stay together.”

  Justin grunted back in good humor. “Well, we’d better go,” he said as he pulled himself up on his crutch.

  Greg got up and waited for Justin to take his first step. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay another week?”

  “No way. I not only envy watching you and Elise together. I get more depressed.”

  *****

  Leilani glanced at the schedule on her iPad. She was seeing five people that day. The first was coming in an hour, but she arrived early to look over reports she had dictated on her last clients. She unlocked the top drawer of her desk where she kept recent reports, and took out the two she was going to edit.

  Her gaze wandered toward the vase of salmon-colored roses she had placed on her desk. The flowers Justin Halverson promised her, delivered within a few minutes of her arrival at her office.

  She had not counted on roses. She had assumed he would send an arrangement, mostly of mums. Chrysanthemums were everywhere and she saw pots of them in nurseries, by the entrance to home improvement stores, drug stores, and groceries.

  The roses were beautiful and fragrant and she loved them, but they seemed, to her, a little inappropriate, not ones a man would give a new acquaintance. What he wrote on the attached card vexed her as well. He told her the flowers were his way of thanking her for “rescuing” him, but instead of a straightforward thank you, he wrote some lighthearted quip:

  Are you sure you don’t want fresh ones like these for the next few weeks? They look good enough to eat.

  That did sound like Justin—the little she knew of him. It was casual, teasing, a note one would send an old friend. He did mean to thank her with those roses. So, why read any more into his choice? And what was it that bugged her about the note? In any case, she should send Justin a text message thanking him for the roses.

  Her text would be in the same vein as his note. She picked up her cell phone which she had laid on her desk and dictated:

  Not only do they look good, they smell good enough to inhale. Thanks.

  She hit “send” and was about to turn off the message app, when she had second thoughts. She sent a second message, more lighthearted than the first, and one that she hoped made it clear she expected no more:

  Can’t get any more of these. I’ll get fat.

  To herself, she admitted it would be so easy to get used to those roses and desire more of them from Justin. She did like him. A little more than she should. From what she could gather at the hospital and at the dinner, he was nursing the breakup of a relationship. He was the last person, among her acquaintances, with whom she would want to get entangled.

  She turned off the app and put her cell phone down. She glanced over the two reports and chose the less interesting case to edit first.

  Not long after, her cell phone trilled to inform her of a new message. It was Justin, returning her message:

  No, you’re perfect as you are.

  Leilani smiled. He was either used to flattering women, or he was flirting with her. She preferred to th
ink he was flirting, and left it at that.

  She had work ahead of her. And in the evening, she had to focus once again on what to do to find her father.

  The night before, she had done an internet search on missing persons. Much of the information she came across did not seem to help, so she did other searches. They led her to the plight of desaparecidos, missing persons in South America, probably taken by military forces for political reasons. Most remained unaccounted for. That was interesting, but also discouraging. Her father could be a desaparecido, lost to his family forever.

  Her spirits had been swinging between eagerness to act and hopelessness in what they could realistically do. All they had was one man’s word, a man they did not know. A man she did not trust. And yet, the Torres family had no choice but to base all their hope on his words. She had to hang on to them, not so much for her sake, or Rudy’s, or Carmen’s, but for their mother’s.

  A soft knock on her door told her it was time to immerse herself in someone else’s concerns. Carol, the receptionist she shared with three colleagues on private practice, was a sensible, sensitive young woman. She treaded lightly on life and Leilani liked that about her. If they had met socially, she might have liked to be friends with Carol.

  The door opened and Carol stuck her head in. She said, “Your first appointment is here.”

  “Thank you, Carol. Please show her in.”

  A middle-aged woman entered her office soon after. Rising from her chair, Leilani greeted her with a smile. The woman, a client of a few months, proceeded to sit on the couch at one corner of the office. Leilani sat on an armchair across from her.

  For the next six hours, she went through the same routine, broken only by ten-minute intervals. By early evening, she dragged herself out of her office, drained of energy and patience.

  Back in her apartment hours later, she walked straight into her bedroom. She dressed down from her suit to a nightgown and robe, unwound her hair from its bun, and wiped off every trace of makeup. She felt more loose and relaxed, shedding off her professional persona.

  In her small kitchen, Leilani took out a plate of food from the refrigerator. Her mother had prepared a few dishes for her mahjongg group the day before. Since she cancelled that weekend’s game for General Huang’s visit, she had food in the refrigerator she could never finish—dishes that, she said, did not freeze well. She wrapped portions of them in a few paper plates and gave them to her children.

  Leilani tilted the paper plate and let all the food on it—noodles, pork, and vegetables—slide onto a ceramic plate. They didn’t look appetizing all jumbled up, but they saved her from having to cook or eat a TV dinner. They should taste better anyway. She stuck the plate into the microwave and stood by, watching it rotate and waiting for the three-second signal that ended the heating cycle.

  She heard her cell phone ringing its melody. She ran to the dining table, seized her phone and swiped the screen on it. Justin Halverson again—it seemed that episode, which started earlier that day, was not over.

  ‘Hello.”

  Justin said, “Hello, Leilani. Are you home eating all alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me, too. But I’m used to eating by myself. My former girlfriend worked evenings. Tonight, though, it’s no fun.”

  “Life is like that.”

  “Yeah, so why am I trying so hard to make it fun.”

  She smiled. “Or, make fun of it. It comes naturally to you, I think.”

  “Do you find it offensive?”

  “No. It makes living a little easier. I do it, too, but for me, it’s not so easy. Fun and me don’t always mix.”

  A few seconds of silence preceded Justin’s answer. “Well, what if we have dinner together? Some fun will surely be in the mix.”

  “Are you asking me out to dinner?”

  “Yes, I am. Will you have dinner with me, Leilani?”

  “Dinner and nothing else?”

  “Well, we could spend the evening thinking up ways to make fun of things. But if it went beyond that, is that so bad?”

  Leilani frowned. “As far as beyond that is concerned, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “You mean because I’m coming out of a ‘failed relationship’—isn’t that the term your profession uses?”

  “Are you making fun of my profession?”

  “You’re smiling, I hope. If so, I’d say everything is fair game. If you’re not smiling, then forgive me.”

  “I’m smiling, but I need you to answer me: Is this a good idea, going out with you?”

  “I say yes. But if you’re in doubt, I’ll tell you all you want to know about Megan. She’s my former girlfriend. Maybe you heard Elise mention her name. Of course, I understand only so much about people. Not like you, so you can judge for yourself.”

  She conceded. “I do have misgivings. You’re on the rebound.”

  “I am. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met at my sister’s for dinner, and I don’t know what else to do about it.”

  Leilani did not answer. The image of Justin lying senseless on the pavement came to her again. He stirred something in her that night, a sensation she felt again seeing him at Greg and Elise’s home. Later, alone in her quiet apartment, she recalled her reaction and reluctantly admitted that, despite her doubts, she did find him attractive.

  She had justifiable qualms about getting involved with him. His recent breakup was a good enough excuse to stay away, but he also thought of her as his “rescuer”—not a sound basis for a relationship.

  He said. “Please, Leilani. Let’s try it once, at least. Then, if you think it wouldn’t work, that dinner would be the end of it.”

  I’m a one-date wonder, Leilani thought drily. Maybe, it was time she ended that by refusing to go out with a man, unless she was attracted to him and had no misgivings.

  She said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Justin.”

  “Tell me why. I’m asking for this one time. Give us a chance. I think you’re not indifferent to me.”

  “I do like you, but right now, I have so much on my mind, so many pressing matters to attend to. I can’t complicate my life any further.”

  “Then, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind? Maybe I can help.”

  “I doubt you can. Please, Justin. My dinner is getting cold.”

  “How about meeting for coffee, then? That’s safe enough, isn’t it?”

  Leilani hesitated again, but relented. Once would not hurt and maybe, she could convince him at that time that anything between them would go nowhere.

  “Okay. It would have to be after Thanksgiving.”

  “I can come to a coffeehouse in your area. Whichever one you like best.”

  “I’d prefer to go to one in San Francisco, if that’s okay with you.

  VII. Coming Together

  Thanksgiving was the American holiday the Torreses embraced. Its focus on gathering together to gorge on traditional dishes suited both their needs and the rituals of their former home. Although a lot of work, Mrs. Torres insisted that having her children and their families all in the same room was worth all the sweat and stress. So, she toiled willingly.

  Back in the old country, she had a cook and two maids and was rarely ever in the kitchen. But as soon as they settled in California, she learned to cook and make delicious dishes within a few weeks. Leilani had been impressed.

  On Thanksgiving Day, her mother left it to her daughters and Rudy’s wife to serve the feast she had prepared. Tired but happy, she hardly stirred from her soft comfortable armchair, as her grandchildren swarmed around her, entertaining her with their chatter.

  Although the family also celebrated Christmas together, her mother left it to Carmen to cook, with help from her children and Leilani. Instead, she poured her energy and time into shopping and wrapping gifts for her family and her mahjongg friends.

  This Thanksgiving Day was different. For Leilani,
it was not the usual pleasant but somewhat boring affair it had always been. The recent news that Dr. Torres might be alive could not but affect the day. It dominated their conversation, of which there had not been much in the past.

  Even Carmen forgot about her almond trees and was in tears when she arrived. She hugged her mother and cried on her shoulders. Then she hugged her brother and sister, muttering, “Can you believe it? Can you believe it? Maybe, next Thanksgiving, he’ll be here with us.”

  She kept repeating the same thing over the course of the day until Leilani became annoyed and said, “We’re not sure of anything, Carmen. Those desaparecidos in South America, most of them haven’t been found.”

  “I don’t care about those des … whatever. I’m with Mamá. He’s alive and we’ll find him.”

  “If you have any bright ideas, then share them. Rudy and I are at a loss where to start. We go back to the old country, then what? Who do we talk to?”

  “I don’t know. You two are the ones who went to college and you were both always closer to Papá than to Mamá.”

  Rudy and Leilani spent some time together in their mother’s bedroom, with the door closed to the rest of the boisterous family. They talked about what they each came up with and agreed the internet yielded interesting, but essentially useless information.

  Had they stayed in contact with old Costa Mora friends, maybe they could have asked a few of them for help. But they had all been too young, too eager to fit in with new friends in their new country, that they easily forgot old alliances. Their mother, as far as they knew, also broke all ties with Costa Mora friends and distant relatives. Before they left that evening, Leilani and Rudy had to tell their mother they had very little clue where to begin.

  Later in the day, General Huang joined the family.

  Leilani, scowling, whispered to Rudy, “What’s he doing here? Mamá never mentioned anything about him being invited and I was with her all day.”

  Rudy whispered back. “I’m not sure. Mamá said something about him not having family here. So, she probably took pity on him and invited him.”