Freefall

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Freefall Page 11

by Tess Oliver


  Nana led me into her kitchen. I pulled out my notepad and pen. She looked puzzled. I took hold of the note she held and pointed to where Nix had written about the memoirs.

  She looked at the words and then laughed. “Oh yes, of course. Forgive me. Occasionally I forget things.” She looked slightly embarrassed about it, and I wanted badly to tell her not to be. “Where are my manners? Would you like some tea?”

  Now I was embarrassed. I hated having always to resort to primitive head shaking responses. I pulled out my small notepad and wrote. “No, thank you.”

  “Before we start, let me show you some pictures of Alexander as a boy. He was so handsome. Just like his father.” There was a long row of framed pictures lined up along the mantle. She reached for one with a man standing in front of a race car. “This was Alex’s dad, Alexander Nixon Pierce.” Complete and utter admiration poured from her expression as she stared down at the picture. I wondered how often during the day she looked at it.

  “He was handsome like Alex,” I wrote.

  “Yes, they looked very much alike.” She placed the picture back on the mantle and picked up another one. It was Nix standing on a boat. He looked about eighteen, and he looked like a total troublemaker. Nana laughed. “I have to admit, he is even more handsome than his father. His mother, Linda, was very beautiful, very exotic.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, she was a disappointment in every other way.” She stared at Nix’s picture as if she was trying to remember his face and then she put it back on the mantle. “Would you like some tea—” she still held Nix’s note, and she glanced at it, “Scotlyn?”

  Conveniently, I still held my reply in my hand. I showed it to her and then stored it in my dress pocket for safe keeping. Something told me I’d need it again soon.

  We went in to sit at the table. There was a cute caddy filled with silverware and an antique corner cabinet that had been painted red standing behind the table. It was filled with an array of different dishes that reminded me of my mom’s eclectic collection. My mom had always told me matching dinnerware was for fussy people who had nothing better to do with their lives than pick out china patterns.

  Nana fingered the note. Her face softened with sadness. “Alex said you were in an accident and you lost your voice.”

  I pulled out my pen. “I lost my family. My voice went with them. The shock of it all made me mute.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible.” She stared down at Nix’s note. I wondered if she had to remind herself who the stranger sitting across from her was but then she lifted her gaze to me. “Once you realize that you have not lost your family completely because they will always be here,” she lifted her slightly twisted fingers to her chest, “in your heart, you will find your voice again.”

  My throat tightened at her words and I nodded.

  “Did you want some tea? I think I’ll make some.” She got up and I decided that it would probably be easier to have the tea, which actually sounded nice now.

  We sat and sipped tea for a few minutes, and it seemed to revive her. She sat up in her chair. “Shall we start?”

  I picked up the pen.

  She faced out the window as she spoke. “It’s very hard to know that everything you once were will eventually be lost.”

  I wasn’t completely sure if she’d started her memoirs, but I decided I should write it all down. She spoke slowly and clearly making the task quite doable.

  “I’ve often wondered if my mind will just go completely black as if someone turned off a switch.” Her words made my eyes water but I kept writing.

  “There was nothing terribly remarkable about my childhood. I was an excellent student, and I loved playing jump rope and hopscotch with my sisters afterschool. We’d play outside until it got dark and then my mom would call us in for dinner and homework. Aside from a broken arm I’d gotten playing tag and a terrible case of chicken pox, my childhood went very smoothly.” She pushed up from the table. “Just a moment.” She walked out of the kitchen.

  I sat stunned and stared down at the few lines she’d begun wondering what had happened. Then she walked back in holding a silver bracelet that was shaped like cuff. The silver was embossed with black letters. She held it up for me to see. The words said Pvt. David James Mason and there was a date written beneath the name. I looked up at her questioningly.

  “This was the name of the man who stole my heart,” she said matter-of-factly. “And it was not Alex’s grandfather.” She sat again and I wrote. “Oh, I loved my husband, Richard, very much, but David was the man who was truly meant for me. You just know it when you’ve met the person who is connected to you, body and soul.”

  She paused to watch me write. “You are incredibly fast with a pen.”

  “My pen is my voice,” I wrote.

  Nana stared at me over the table. “Are you and Alex lovers?”

  Her question startled me, and she laughed at my wide-eyed reaction. “That’s all right. It is none of my business. Now where was I? Yes, I remember. It was the summer of 1969, and all of us here in California were scrambling to make enough money at our summer jobs so that we could travel to New York for the big music festival.” She tapped her chin. “What was the name of that thing? I know there’s a cartoon bird with the same name.”

  I lifted the paper with the word Woodstock on it.

  “Yes, that was it. Woodstock.”

  “I’ll bet it was a lot of fun.” I wrote.

  She sighed heavily and pulled her blue sweater tighter around her shoulders. “I imagine it was. I never made it to the concert. Nothing could have pulled me away from David that summer.” She smiled wistfully. “Not even Janis or Jimi or all the free LSD one could ask for.”

  The whole sweet image of the perfect little grandmother flew out of my head, and I realized these memoirs were going to be a lot more interesting than I’d imagined.

  “I was nineteen and working behind the counter at the local five and dime store, Woolworths. I didn’t make much money, but the manager would look the other way if I wanted an ice cream on my break. And the store was air conditioned, which was more than I could say for my parent’s tiny Pasadena house. I’d finished my first year of college, and I was young and beautiful. Even though there was a lot of turmoil in the country, and there was a horrible war raging somewhere across the ocean, I was completely happy.” She stopped. “Would you like some tea?”

  I lifted my cup to remind her that I had some.

  “Oh, I already gave you some. Well, good for me. Anyhow, I remember the day David walked into my life. It was one of those incredibly hot summer days where no amount of cold drinks could quench your thirst. I was stocking bottles of cola in the refrigerator when I turned around and slammed directly into a solid chest. But it wasn’t the solid chest that nearly knocked me over, it was the dark brown eyes that stared down at me from the most handsome face I’d ever seen— at least off the movie screen. I mean, I still consider Gregory Peck as the god of all men, and I once tried to climb the back wall to his estate but that’s another story.” She picked up Nix’s note and looked at it. “Scotlyn, am I going too fast?”

  I showed her the paper to assure her that I was keeping up.

  “Who needs a typewriter or computer?” she laughed at her comment. “So, in walks this dreamboat of a man, and suddenly, I was completely tongue-tied, a rare phenomenon I assure you. He asked me how much for a bottle of coke, and I just stared at him like a complete fool. Somehow I managed to ring him up. Then he left with his soda, and I spent the rest of the day scolding myself for being a nitwit. I assumed I would never see him again, but I was gloriously wrong. He would come and buy a cola from me on every one of his breaks. I would hear his motorcycle rumbling up the street, and my heart would start racing minutes before he pulled up in front of the store. We hardly said ten words to each other, but I knew he wasn’t just coming there to have his soda.” Her eyes sparkled. “He was coming to see me.”

  I stared at the last words I’d written and though
t about how badly I’d wanted to return to Freefall after the first tattoo session. And it had had nothing to do with the tattoo.

  “Then one night David showed up in front of the store just as I was getting off work. He was leaning there against his bike, all six foot plus of him, and those brown eyes that took my breath away. He didn’t have to say one word. I ran to him and threw my leg over the seat and off we rode.” A pink blush flooded her cheeks, and for a second I worried she wasn’t feeling well but then she continued. “We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We spent all of our spare time together. Of course, I had to lie to my mother and tell her I was walking down the street to my friend’s house. I don’t think she would have minded me dating him, but she never would have let me ride on the back of a motorcycle. He would pick me up on the corner of my block and off we would ride.”

  Nana stood and walked over to her kitchen cupboard and took out a box of cookies to bring to the table. “I’m always hungry these days.” She offered me one, but I shook my head.

  The time lapse of her getting the cookies had brought more confusion. She stared at me. “Are you friends with Diana or Alex?”

  “Alex,” I wrote.

  “Oh yes, that’s right. I don’t know how I forgot that. Pretty girls seem to follow that boy around.”

  I smiled and snuck a quick text to Nix. “Nana says that pretty girls follow you around.” I picked up the pen again just as a text came back.

  “Holy shit, if she starts talking about my Batman underwear get the hell out of there and fast.” With a silent laugh, I stuck my phone back into my pocket. It vibrated and I plucked it out looking forward to another of Nix’s texts, but it was a harsh text from Lincoln.

  “Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m at my new job,” I wrote back. There was no response, and I was relieved. I was certain things would get ugly once I got home.

  I looked over at Nix’s grandmother. She seemed lost in a thought. I lifted the pad to show her what I’d written so far but then she continued.

  “It was the best summer of my life,” she said dreamily. “And I thought the bliss would never end. I was going back to college in Los Angeles, but I would be close enough to see David on weekends. I had everything neatly arranged in my head and heart but then something terrible happened to change all that. One afternoon, in late August, I stood behind my Woolworth’s counter and waited for David but he never showed. Mind you, we didn’t have cell phones or computers or any of the fancy gadgets you have now, so I had no idea what had happened to him. I went home that night sobbing my eyes out sure that he’d found someone else. After I’d cried myself to sleep, I heard the motorcycle out front. I flew from my bed in just my nightie and raced out to him.” Nana’s blue eyes watered. “I will never forget the agony in his face. He threw his arms around me and squeezed so hard I thought I would stop breathing. We stood there for a long time until he worked up the courage to speak. His older brother had been killed in Vietnam.”

  She relaxed back against the chair back and fingered the silver bracelet. “I think he enlisted because he needed revenge. David grew distant and angry, and when he told me he’d joined up, he’d blurted it as if he was telling me the weather. I was devastated but determined to stay true to him. I told him I’d wait for him forever.” She picked up the bracelet and slid it over her fingers. It hung heavy on her wrist. “A lot of us wore these bracelets as a tribute to the boys who were stuck over there in that horrible war. Most of the names were men who’d been taken as prisoners of war or who were missing in action. You were to take it off once they returned safely, but David never did. I wore it for several years after the last man came safely home, but I never knew what happened to him. And then forever became too long.” Her voice drifted off as I finished the last sentence.

  She covered a yawn. “Oh my, I’ve kept that story in my heart a long time. I’ve never really talked about David to anyone. I mean, Richard knew I’d been serious with someone who was lost in the war, but I never spoke much about him. Sometimes it is good to let things out.” She looked at me with a wise little grin almost as if she was directing that comment knowingly at me. “You know, I’m a bit tired. Shall we sit and watch some television? I love the cooking shows.”

  I nodded and wrote a question. “Would you like me to make you something to eat? A sandwich, maybe?”

  She read the note. “You know, I haven’t had a grilled cheese sandwich in ages,” she said enthusiastically.

  My writing hand was tired. “You’re in luck. Grilled cheese is my specialty!”

  We munched on grilled cheese sandwiches and watched several hours of cooking shows. It felt good and homey sitting on her floral couch in her cozy living room. Eventually, Nana had a hard time keeping her eyes open. I helped her to her bedroom and tucked her in. I let her know that I’d be back in the morning and left a note on her nightstand so she would remember.

  I was standing in her living room texting Nix to let him know that I was leaving when he walked inside the house.

  We stared at each other for a second and then I felt the warmth of his gaze at it drifted over me.

  The gold flecks in his eyes danced. “I like the dress.”

  I smiled at him. There was so much in his expression that went straight to my heart. I realized there was something different in the way Nix looked at me compared to other men. He looked at me as if he wasn’t completely sure I was real, as if he was worried that if he moved too quickly I might just vanish into a puff of dust. There was something so fragile about the way he looked at me, it made me want to grab him and hold on forever.

  He glanced toward the hallway. “Where’s Nana?”

  I pressed my palms together and rested my cheek against my hands to show she was sleeping.

  “How did everything go?”

  I gave him a thumbs up.

  “Were you leaving?”

  I pulled out my paper. “I think the longer I stay the angrier Lincoln will be.”

  His jaw twitched with the mention of Lincoln’s name. “How did you get here?”

  “The bus.”

  “Let me take you home.”

  I shook my head hard. “If Lincoln saw you or suspected anything I would have to stop coming.”

  He scrubbed his black hair back with his fingers. “He thinks he owns—”

  I stepped toward him and pressed a finger against his mouth to stop him. I scratched the pen across my pad. “Please don’t, Nix. It has been one of the best days ever, and I want to take the bus. I want to prove to myself I can do it alone, without any help.”

  “Let me at least take you to the bus stop.”

  I nodded and then lifted an invisible glass to my mouth to let him know I needed a drink of water first. I walked into the kitchen. He followed. I hadn’t realized how parched I was until I sipped down the entire glass.

  Nix picked up the bracelet. “Who is David James Mason?”

  I raced over and flipped over the writing pad and turned an invisible key on my lips.

  “Oh, you and Nana have secrets, huh?”

  I shrugged innocently and wondered how he would react if he knew there had been another man in his grandmother’s life other than his grandfather.

  “I always knew that woman was hiding some scandalous secrets.” Nix put the bracelet down on the table. Without looking up at me, he reached across, took hold of my hand and pulled me against him. His heated amber gaze lifted to my face. His fingers trailed down my dress over the tattoo. “You know, I think this has become my favorite tattoo.” His mouth was so close I felt every word against my lips. “Can I see it?” he said so quietly I barely heard the question.

  I pressed against him, my silent way of asking him to put his hands on me. He gathered the thin cotton fabric up in his large fingers, baring my leg, hip, and waist to the cool air in the kitchen.

  He leaned his head down and looked at the tattoo. I’d taken off the final piece of gauze this morning. “Definitely some of
my finest work.” He lifted his head but he didn’t release my dress. “Of course, it helps to have a perfect canvas.” His mouth lowered to mine. “Like you,” he whispered against my mouth and then he kissed me.

  My fingers bit into the skin on his hard arms as his kiss deepened and my body melted against him. The strange, almost imperceptible sound that rolled up from my throat every time Nix touched me surfaced again. The vibration in my throat tingled warmly. His hands dropped to my bottom, and he pushed the hem of the dress up exposing my naked bottom and the thin strap of my underwear. His palms smoothed over my bare skin, and I wanted him to touch me everywhere. The freedom of being in Nix’s arms, knowing that Lincoln was not nearby keeping his controlling eye on me, made me dizzy and wild with need. But Nana’s phone rang to remind us both of the sobering reality that we were standing in her kitchen.

  The jarring sound of the phone had less effect on Nix. He couldn’t pull his hands away from me at first. It rang again, and he grunted in despair and answered it. The cord was tied up, and he had to lean his tall body over the table to answer it.

  “Hey, Diana. She’s sleeping. Yeah, I’m just leaving. It worked great. I think Nana liked having someone here all day.” He lifted his face toward me, and the phone nearly fell off the table. “Yeah I’ve got to get back to the shop.” He hung up and straightened.

  I looked pointedly at the phone cord.

  “Oh yeah, fun huh? Nana tripped over it and hurt herself so I tied it up.”

  I took out my paper. “You’re a good grandson.”

  “Trying to make up for all the crap I pulled in high school.” He glanced back down at the phone. “Nana once told me she was scared to death to answer the phone when I was at school because it was always the principal or the district truant officer calling.”

 

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