Welcome Reluctant Stranger

by Evelyn Journey

  “I don’t know what it is about the man that makes me distrust him.”

  “Relax, Leilani. He’s our sole source of information right now.”

  “Yeah, but what if none of what he told us is true?”

  “But why would he lie?”

  “I don’t know. To spy on us. Get a family for himself. Mamá is still pretty and desirable.”

  “What if he merely wants to help?”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Keep your professional hat under wraps, Leilani. We’re not your clients.”

  “Low blow, Rudy. I leave my profession behind my office door. I’ve never thought of any of you as clients. You should know that.”

  “I’m sorry, Leilani. I sounded like Carmen when I said that. I’m stressed out.”

  “I’m stressed out, too.”

  “Anyway, nothing we can do now but follow up on what he told us. Mamá’s so sure this man is telling the truth.”

  *****

  The afternoon of Sunday after Thanksgiving, Leilani arrived first at the coffeehouse where she and Justin agreed to meet. She saw him walk in, dragging his right foot a little, but without his crutch.

  She said, “You’ve ditched your crutch.”

  ‘Yes. You didn’t dislocate or break my foot, but it was badly swollen around the ankle and painful. Besides, I didn’t want to use it at my parents’ house.”

  “You mean you waited all this time to tell them you were mugged?”

  “Actually, I only told them I’ve broken up with Megan.”

  “How did they take it?”

  “With great equanimity, of course. My parents don’t butt into our personal lives until we ask them.”

  “Did you have to explain why you’re limping?”

  “Not at first, but my mother asked. I said I sprained it kicking ball with guys I work with.”

  Justin knitted his brows, his eyes looked sad. “What you don’t know is my family, not three months ago, suffered a tragedy, and my parents have taken on the burden of it. I didn’t want to add to it.”

  Leilani said, “I kind of remember Elise mentioning it. She didn’t give any details, though.”

  “Did she tell you my older brother, Peter, tried to kill himself?”

  “No. Oh, no! How’s he now?”

  “He’s doing fine. He’s gone back to work, but we have no idea how long that’ll last.”

  “How come?’

  Justin stared at her for some moments. Was he weighing in his mind how much to tell her?

  He said, “He was diagnosed with a progressive hereditary disease. It may have brought on his suicide attempt.”

  “Oh, Justin. I’m so sorry about your brother.” Leilani touched his arm, gazing at him in sympathy.

  “You must be wondering: Mom or Dad? It turned out, neither one. Mom told Elise and me, for the first time, that Peter is our half-brother. His father died young and never married my mother.”

  Justin added, “Elise and I couldn’t understand why my parents never said anything before. They knew we were both open-minded. That’s how they raised us.”

  “Times were different when our parents were young. Many women might have thought it a disgrace to find themselves pregnant outside of marriage. I know in our old country, women still believe nothing is as shameful as being pregnant and single.”

  “Hmm, that is … old-fashioned, but you’re right. I should try to see the past from my mother’s viewpoint.”

  He stared at Leilani. She met his gaze, then lowered her lids, uneasy at what she saw in his eyes.

  He said, “I still have much to learn about you, Leilani. And every little bit you reveal arouses my desire to get to know you better.”

  Aware that he was still staring at her intently, she took some time to say, “But what happens after you’ve known everything there is to know about me?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to wait and see. Will you ever tell me how you became a sharpshooter?”

  “Target practice, that’s all.”

  “But why begin to learn to use a gun?”

  “Will you keep bugging me until I tell you?” She met his gaze again.

  “If you don’t kick me out of your life after today, I probably will. Something tells me that knowing why you’re such a great shot will unlock a key to who you are.”

  “I’m really no mystery. My past is all wound up into the history of my old country. At least, that’s what it seems, from what my brother told us. But, nothing unusual there, is it?”

  “I know a bit about that history. I did a Google search after you told us where you’re originally from. Costa Mora sounded pretty sick. Run by one corrupt government after another. For years and years. So, people rebel, what else? I’d take to the mountains myself. Or hightail it out of there. The last ten years, though, seemed quiet. A little rebellion here, another there. Nothing major.”

  “That’s about what I also know. I was nine when we left. I cared about nothing but myself and what I wanted. Then, one day, my mother came in the middle of my math class, and whisked me and my sister into an airplane. My brother was already inside, waiting. We flew through the night and landed in Hawaii in the morning.”

  “Your mother wasn’t abducting you, taking you away from your father, was she?”

  Leilani chuckled. “No, nothing like that. Papá was supposed to leave the country with us, but a friend of his who saw us off said he couldn’t come. The last time I saw him was that morning at breakfast. I’ve never seen him since.”

  “I’m so sorry, Leilani. I had no idea what you’ve been through.”

  “No, don’t be, please. I didn’t suffer at all when I lived in Costa Mora. I was a spoiled brat, waited on hand and foot by servants. I wouldn’t budge to get myself a can of soda from the refrigerator. I’d yell at one of the servants to get me one. Often she had to stop some other chore she was doing to serve me. I had trouble adjusting when I first got here, but in many ways, it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “Yours must have been a rich family.”

  “I suppose so, in that country. But I thought, then, that every other family was like ours. Anyway, I couldn’t understand why we left. Now I know it’s because of how bad it was there. I still have no idea what happened to Papá. My mother never explained anything to us, but kept our hopes up that he would soon come. He never did, and after a few years, my brother and sister gave him up for dead. But not my mother. She’s always believed he’s alive.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me? I stopped thinking about it. I wouldn’t say one thing or the other, just resigned myself that I’d never see him again.”

  “Did your family ever try to contact him or vice versa?”

  Leilani frowned. “How? We have no clue where he is. Mamá and Rudy—my brother—went back to look for him five years after we got here, when Costa Mora was at peace. But they came back not knowing much more than before. Only rumors.”

  “So for the last—what—fifteen years, you’ve lived with this … this mystery?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “There’s a fifty-fifty chance, your father’s still alive. I’d have dug some more myself.”

  “Maybe, more than fifty-fifty.”

  Justin peered at her face. “You do know something more.”

  “Not real information. Last week, that day you called about the flowers, I was at Mamá’s house. She had asked me to come. My brother was there, too, with a man from the old country. Someone I’d never seen before. This man—he says he’s General Huang—told us he saw Papá several months before, at a military hospital.”

  “Oh Leilani, that’s incredible. Can you trust this man?”

  “I have this feeling about him … no, I guess I don’t. But my mother seems to. She believed him.”

  “What are you going to do? Can you contact your father?”

  “We have no idea where h
e is. That particular ward he was at—General Huang said that’s where they treated prisoners accused of treason. Those accused of crimes against the government. The General claimed he was a political prisoner there. But he was lucky enough to escape about three months ago. He’s seeking political asylum here.”

  “Isn’t there someone you know in the old country who could help?”

  “I’m not sure. Mamá is going back in two weeks. She might still know people who’d be able to connect her with someone who can tell us something more. But it’s a little iffy. Rudy and I are also wracking our brains, thinking of ways to help find him. I tried searching the internet, but I don’t know exactly what to look for.”

  “Maybe I can help you. Why don’t we go have dinner, talk some more, think through this?”

  Leilani studied Justin’s face for a minute without saying anything.

  Justin said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, “What?”

  “Did you just maneuver me into having dinner with you?”

  “Maneuver? No. All I did was jump at a chance staring me in the face.”

  “That you did because I can’t think of a good excuse to refuse it. This matter has been on my mind for nearly a week, but I can’t get a handle on it. I’ve realized, talking to you, that I know less than I thought. I can’t tell you why my father disappeared on us. My brother heard rumors, but we’ve no proof of anything.”

  “Then it seems you have to start farther back. What work did your father do? What was going on years before you left your old country? Why couldn’t he leave with you eighteen years ago?”

  Scowling, Leilani said, “Yes. So many questions. Where should we go for dinner?”

  Justin grinned, looking pleased with himself. “How about my place? It’s a few easy blocks away. Believe it or not, I’m a good cook and except for carnitas, which my sister learned from an expert, I cook better than she does. I’ll make us dinner while we continue to talk. We can talk very freely there, go on the internet to search for information.”

  “You do mean to help me.”

  “I’m a computer nerd. I get paid to ferret out information. I love digging for facts.”

  “What are we waiting for? Do we need to go for groceries?”

  “No, I did some grocery shopping after I got back from my sister’s house.”

  VIII. Reluctant, Again

  Justin and Leilani walked to his apartment in silence. Was he actually taking her home to dinner? Circumstances, it seemed, had worked in his favor. She had been quite reluctant to go out with him.

  He turned his head and glanced at her as they walked side by side. She returned his glance and smiled.

  God, she’s beautiful, he thought. Not like anyone I’ve known before. He was sure, then, that he wanted to see her for more than a few days, or a few months, but for as long as she smiled at him like that.

  This was only the second instance they met and talked. In his mind, meeting for coffee that afternoon was as close to a first date as anyone could get, but he suspected Leilani came because she was anxious to end his hopes for anything more than friendship.

  “Here we are,” he said. He stopped in front of a tall building and punched in the entry code.

  He led Leilani to an elevator and pushed the button to the topmost floor. They were alone, but neither of them talked until the elevator stopped and the door opened.

  “Are you in a penthouse?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t call it that, but it’s a good size, with more amenities than apartments on lower floors. There are four apartments on the top floor, all with varied floor plans.”

  Justin stopped in front of his door and unlocked it with an electronic key.

  Inside, he said, “Dump your purse anywhere, feel free to look around, then, come help me choose what to make for dinner.”

  He left Leilani in the living room and went into his combination kitchen and dining area.

  Leilani walked to the wall-sized window that overlooked the city below. Darkness was shrouding the city, turning it into amorphous shadows. Lights were slowly coming alive on buildings and running cars. She stood for a few minutes by the window before she joined Justin in the kitchen.

  She said, “You have a breathtaking view and a beautiful apartment. How long have you lived here?”

  “I bought this place four years ago. One of the perks of being a geek immersed in information technology. But I’m no Steve Wozniak or any of the others who made a fortune in this new technology. Neither am I like Greg. He inherited a business he made much more profitable by taking it into the digital age.”

  “You get along very well with him, don’t you?”

  “Yes. We’re best friends. We find lots to talk about—technology, politics; books, too.” He paused, then added sadly, “Peter was my very best friend, but he’s had to cope with so much.”

  Leilani placed a hand on his arm. There, it lingered, a quiet but poignant gesture of sympathy. Justin fought an urge to gather her in his arms. Yet, he knew that in holding her, he was seeking not so much passion, but comfort, in the warmth of her caring, her acceptance of what he was going through. True, he desired her, but at that moment, he needed reassurance, understanding.

  He kept his arms to his sides. They stood for a while in silence.

  He smiled and said, “Let’s get cooking. I’ve got fresh ground sirloin which would be a cinch to turn into a dressed-up burger or a meat sauce.”

  Leilani looked hesitant.

  “I also have frozen chicken breasts which I can defrost in the microwave. It’ll take a little more time, but I have a great recipe for it.”

  Leilani shook her head and smiled. “Ground sirloin is fine. I’m not a big meat eater but I do occasionally have hamburgers. I must say I’m impressed that you can cook.”

  “I learned out of necessity, at first. My mom’s a great cook and I could never get her dishes anywhere else, so I learned to make them myself. Then, when I was living with Megan, she kept ungodly hours at the hospital. I became the cook. I love it. It appeals to my creative side.”

  “Lucky me, then.”

  “Yes,” Justin said, grinning and grabbing a chef’s knife. He swung it in front of him with flourish, as if he was slicing a piece of food. “You get to taste my little masterpieces. Only a select a few have had the honor.”

  Leilani giggled. “The serf is here to do the master’s bidding. I’m an efficient vegetable slicer.”

  “Good. Let’s get to work.”

  A half hour later, they sat down to a dinner of meatballs doused in peanut sauce, fragrant with garlic, onions and Indonesian spices. Justin served them on top of fettuccini.

  Leilani said, “Thank you for accommodating my tastes. I’m not fond of hamburgers. I’ve adapted to much of American life, but not American food.”

  “Ah, but you may not know whereof you speak. There isn’t one type of American food. But tell me, do you cook at all?”

  “My culinary skills are about where Elise’s are. I can do one or two things quite well. Until I arrived in this country, I’d never touched a pan or a kitchen knife.”

  “You were a kid.”

  “Yeah, but I know someone who said she could cook and clean at nine.”

  “I forgot. You were a spoiled brat, waited on by lowly servants.”

  “If you’re making fun of me, that’s not funny. I regretted having been one pretty quickly once we were settled in an apartment here. Carmen, my older sister, took to cooking easily. I wasn’t so gifted, or maybe I was rebelling. I became the family dish washer.”

  “Then, you and I are a team. You can wash.”

  “Only fair, I guess.”

  “I concur. Shall we attack these meatballs? It’ll be easier to pick up where we left off when our bellies are full.”

  Their dinner lasted nearly three hours, interrupted by talk and research about Leilani’s missing father. Twice, they consulted the internet on Justin’s i
Pad.

  The research she had already done came up with nothing directly relevant to her father’s disappearance. Although she had googled “missing persons,” she had not narrowed it down to her native country. She had assumed Costa Mora had not fully caught up with the modern world.

  Together, they discovered that the country had a missing person’s bureau. The disappointing track record of recoveries that its website published discouraged Leilani. She doubted that filing a missing person report would bring useful results.

  He said, “Do it anyway. Should take a few minutes, one afternoon at most. What’s the harm?”

  “Maybe, you’re right. I’ll think about it,” she said, looking hesitant.

  “Have you asked your mother? She must know a lot. The internet won’t give you answers only certain people would have. We’re so wired to the Net we forget the old way is many times still the best way to get information. Ask your mother what your father did before you all fled the country. Why you left in such a hurry.”

  Leilani frowned. “I’m reluctant dredging up the past. It seems every time we asked my mother about that, she dissolved into tears. None of us had the heart to ask her again after that. Then, there’s daily life. Once here, we had to cope in this strange culture, learn its ways, change how we thought, try to fit in.”

  “Think about it. You might get the answers you need right at home, from your mother.”

  She nodded, looked up at the clock on the wall, and said, “I think I should be getting home. It’s late and I have a client coming at 9AM.”

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  “I’ll be okay. Nearly two hours yet before BART service stops.”

  “Indulge me. I’ll feel better seeing you safely to your door. Besides, it’ll be faster and you’ll have more time and leisure to prepare for tomorrow.”

  “Well, if you put it that way … But let me put these dishes in your machine before we go.”

  “Okay. I’ll clean the dining table and counters.”

  Leilani gathered the plates, on which the residue of the brown peanut sauce had begun to cake. She stacked the utensils on the plates and took everything to the sink to rinse.