Sweet Reunion

by Melanie Shawn

  Well...if she were honest with herself, maybe that “finally gotten over him” part was a bit of an exaggeration. After all, wasn't it she who still couldn't even think of his name without getting choked up? Wasn't it just yesterday afternoon that she hadn't been able to tell the story of their parting to Karina, Lauren, and Sam without, in fact, crying? So maybe she wasn't entirely over him, if it came to that. But she was mostly over him, dammit! She could go through an entire day sometimes without thinking of him now, for God's sake, and Lord knew that hadn't always been the case. She was in a much better head space where he was concerned now than she used to be, and she had worked very hard to get that way.

  Yet, in one split second – yes one tiny little second was all it had taken to totally obliterate years of hard work in forgetting about him – in that one instant when he had walked back through the door, he had smashed all of that peace of mind to bits.

  Now she had to admit to herself that she wasn't over him at all. If she tried to deny that, her queasy stomach and aching joints would tell her differently.

  Amanda got up from her bed and sighed. It was clear she was not going to get any sleep at all this night. She had been trying for hours and she had not been able to achieve anything even closely approaching the relaxed and languid state that would allow her to drift off. No, if anything, she was in such a hyper-aware, hyper-charged frame of mind that she felt as if her nerves had live wires attached to them. She jumped at every tiny noise. She didn't know if she would ever sleep again.

  Amanda wondered if seeing her again was affecting Justin in even close to the same way as seeing him again had affected her. She padded over to her bedroom window, which had a clear view of the front porch of the bunkhouse, and gazed down longingly.

  Yes, this was far from the first sleepless night she had spent, eyes locked on the front porch of the bunkhouse, her mind, body, and soul completely consumed with the alternately blissful and torturous awareness that Justin was near.

  But, as she had gotten older, she had convinced herself that this was a teenage affectation. And yet, here she was – a grown woman – still tossing and turning and stealing glances at the small cabin where Justin slept. She was every bit as affected by his presence now as she had been as a silly teenager. What was wrong with her?

  As Amanda tried everything in her power to slow her breathing, to calm her heart rate, to become again the rational adult that she had fought so hard to grow into, the one lingering thought that she absolutely could not shake no matter how hard she tried was: Is Justin going through the same thing that I am right now? The agony and the ecstasy? Is he being tortured, as I am, with alternating flashes of pain and bliss?

  Here she was, tortured, tossing and turning, losing sleep. Was he down in the bunkhouse, tortured, pacing the floor, also miles away from sleep?

  She couldn't stop picturing, imagining, what he might be going through down there. And after all, hadn't she been congratulating herself on how mature she'd grown in the years since he had been gone? She would just put on a sweater, slip on her tennis shoes, head down to the bunkhouse, and knock on the door. What was more mature than just confronting a situation head on? If you have an issue with someone, you discuss it. That's the adult thing to do, and that's what I'm going to do, Amanda decided.

  She opened and closed her bedroom door and padded down the stairs as lightly as possible so as not to wake the girls as she headed out on her midnight mission. This was between Amanda and Justin, no one else.

  When she reached the back door, she again made every effort to be as stealthy as a cat burglar when opening and closing the exterior door. She didn't want any company on this trip, and prying eyes weren't welcome either. This felt like private business.

  The cool, crisp air pricked at her skin, making her feel even more alert as she walked down the well-worn path to the bunkhouse. Although in the past decade, she had done everything in her power to avoid having to come down this path, walking it now, she couldn't deny that it still felt incredibly familiar. Every footfall was an old familiar friend, and the old tingle of anticipation that she had felt every time she had tread this path in the past returned in full force. This path didn't lead anywhere else, only to the bunkhouse. If she was traveling it, it was bringing her to Justin, that was its only purpose, and that knowledge was always – ALWAYS – delicious in some respect, no matter how much trepidation also colored that excitement.

  The darkness didn't impede her. She knew that she could walk this path blindfolded, one hundred years from now, and still know every single step of it like the back of her hand. It was burned into her brain through both repetition and emotional intensity. Every single time she had ever walked this path, she had been suffused with the tingling sense of anticipation that was caused, for her, by one thing and one thing only – the knowledge that, in just a few moments' time, she would be with Justin. Yes, this was the path that led her to Justin, and it felt as familiar and right as it always had.

  When she arrived on the front porch of the bunkhouse, she heard a sound that cut her to the core.

  Snoring.

  That absolute rat!

  She cupped her hands around her eyes and pressed them to the window, straining to see in. She couldn't believe her eyes.

  There lay Justin, fully clothed, on top of the covers, using his duffel bag as a pillow.

  Not only was he able to sleep – but he had been so anxious to get to sleep that he hadn't even bothered to undress. And now that he was asleep, it wasn't a fitful sleep. He wasn't feverishly tossing and turning, vulnerable to being wakened by the slightest disturbance. No. He was sound asleep, unmoving, and snoring sonorously without a care in the world.

  So, there she had it. There was the proof. That was how much he cared, i.e., not at all.

  Well, great, she thought as she stomped angrily back to the house. Two can play at that game.

  Chapter 7

  “I don't know what to tell you, Amanda, I'm just saying that if he took off once, he could take off again. Guard your heart,” said Lauren reasonably as she guided the shopping cart she was piloting down the aisle of the grocery store.

  The four women had made a special trip down into Lake Tahoe for the morning. They had treated themselves to breakfast at Heidi's on Highway 50, a long-standing tradition, and were now filling their carts at Grocery Outlet with supplies for the reception that would be hosted at Amanda's house the next day, after Parker's memorial service.

  Karina shrugged, “I disagree, Lauren. He was young when he took off. He was under 25 at the time.”

  Lauren looked at Karina like she had a few screws loose. “And what exactly does being under 25 have to do with it?”

  “You know! He had Under 25 Disease!”

  Lauren smirked, “Under 25 Disease? While I suspect that the American Medical Association has yet to define that as a legitimate disorder, please, share with us the symptoms.”

  Karina smiled, “Oh, man, before you turn 25 you do all the stupid things in relationships! Under 25 is when you believe your boyfriend when he says he was 'just hanging out' with his ex until three in the morning. It's when you give him the last two grand in your bank account 'just till next Thursday.' It's when you let him crash on your couch for two days that turns into two months, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

  “And it's not just about what you let the other person get away with, either, it's about the horrible shit you do in relationships, as well. Under 25 is when you'll go to the movies by yourself and then lie about where you were just to see if he can tell when you're lying. It's when you honestly think that sexy flirtation you have going on with your coworker is totally harmless, and yes, it's when you run away from things when they get too intense rather than running toward them. You learn from all that terrible stuff, and you grow up! Usually around age 25, I've found. Thus the name of the disease.”

  Samantha grimace, “I know people way past 25 who are still doing all of those things, if not even dumber thi
ngs.”

  “Exactly!” Lauren chimed in.

  Karina waved this off as insignificant, “Well, yes obviously, it's a disease, not everyone is going to recover from it! But my point is, I think you owe it to Justin to at least see if he has. I like the guy.”

  Amanda smiled, “You and he always had a good rapport.”

  “Exactly!” Karina affirmed, “Because I have excellent taste, and so does he, obviously. He likes me, he loves you...it's pretty much official. Impeccable taste.”

  Amanda laughed, “He doesn't love me, Kar! That's ridiculous!”

  Karina shook her head, “That's not what his smoldering looks were telling me yesterday.”

  “What were they telling you?” Amanda smiled.

  Karina considered, “Well, I think they were saying something along the lines of...'Amanda....I want you, Amanda...I want to jump you...right now, in the middle of the will reading...”

  Lauren smacked Karina in the shoulder, “That's just crude, Karina!”

  Samantha laughed, “You guys! You act like it's up to you to decide whether Amanda still has feelings for Justin or not! It's Amanda's heart! It's up to her!”

  All three of the women looked at Amanda expectantly. Amanda put her palm to her forehead and shook her head back and forth.

  “Honestly, you all, I don't know what to feel. Yes, Karina, I see your point. We were both so young then. I know I'm such a different person now, I can only imagine that he is, as well.

  “But, Lauren, I definitely see the wisdom of your point of view, as well. How could I ever trust someone who I know has it in them to just disappear one morning? That's terrifying!”

  They moved slowly down the rest of the aisle they were in, each lost in their own thoughts, silently collecting items from the shelves and putting them into the baskets, marking them solemnly off the list. Suddenly the sound of Amanda's laughter broke into their individual reveries, and the other three turned to look at her.

  “Oh, man, you guys, I just realized the sheer ridiculousness of this conversation. We're chattering back and forth like seventh graders. 'Do you like him, like him? Do you think he likes you, likes you back?' And the truth is, I'm in a relationship! I have a boyfriend! It's silly to even be going down this road!”

  Samantha looked at Amanda thoughtfully, “Do you love Geoffrey, though?”

  “Of course,” Amanda responded automatically.

  “No, I don't mean like that,” Sam responded, “Not in the way that takes you a nanosecond to answer. Not in the way that requires no thought. I mean, do you actually love him?”

  Amanda paused and considered. “Well...I mean, we've been together for two years...”

  Karina jumped in, “Ha! That is not an answer! Not to mention, if you were really in love with him, it wouldn't have taken you twenty minutes into this conversation to remember that he even existed.”

  Amanda shook her head, “God, I don't know. If you would have asked me two weeks ago if I love Geoffrey, I would have given you an unequivocal yes. I mean, he's dashing, and charming, and so handsome and cultured. He's like a gentleman of another era.

  “But since my father has died, I've seen a whole other side of him that I never would have guessed was there. He just has zero capacity for emotion, or empathy! I guess I never noticed that before because our entire relationship has consisted of fancy dinners and luxury hotel suites and lavish gifts and trips...I honestly think I may have spent our entire relationship being dazzled.

  “Now the rubber is meeting the road, though, and I'm seeing behind the glitzy veneer, and...God help me, it feels so disloyal to be saying this about him...but I think I may not like what I'm seeing there.”

  Karina smiled, “And what about Justin?”

  Amanda sighed deeply, and felt relief and comfort wash over her as she relaxed into thinking about the person who knew her better than any other human on the planet, “Oh, God, then there's Justin. I don't have to hesitate before answering whether I love Justin or not. I can answer that in a nanosecond because I know for a fact, I never stopped loving that man. He's had my heart since age six, and whatever the outcome of this crazy situation is, he'll probably have it until I die. But who knows if he even loves me back? And even if he does...” she trailed off as tears filled her eyes.

  “Even if he does, in the back of your mind, you're always going to be waiting for him to take off in the middle of the night.” Lauren finished for her.

  “Yeah,” Amanda confirmed miserably. “That.”

  Chapter 8

  Justin looked around at the bunkhouse, and was pleased with what he saw. Yesterday, when he'd walked in and saw the layers of dust, the spider webs, and the bare mattress with no bedding, he had been too exhausted to care about any of it. He had made due with accommodations much more primitive than this in the past, he could certainly spend one dusty night bunking with the spiders, and it wouldn't kill him. So he'd tossed his duffel on the top of the mattress to use as a pillow, laid down, and promptly fell into a deep sleep that lasted for fourteen hours.

  It was no wonder he had been exhausted, he told himself when he arose the next morning, feeling refreshed. The anxiety of knowing that he was going to see Amanda again had been eating him alive for a solid week, ever since Henry had contacted him up in Alaska and told him about both Parker's death and the fact that he was included in the will.

  Henry hadn't told him what Parker had left him, but it wasn't the promise of a monetary inheritance that had drawn Justin back to the mountains of Northern California that had raised him. It was the promise of Amanda, of a chance to make things right.

  The fact that he didn't hear from her at all after he had heard from Henry had been disconcerting, and his imagination had invented a million different possible scenarios about what that silence could mean since then. Was it revenge for all of his years of silence? Was it the sheer force of her rage that made it impossible for her to speak with him? Was it bare indifference?

  The one possibility that he had failed to consider was that Henry hadn't actually told her that he was coming back. The look on her face before she had dropped that tray had planted the notion in his mind. The blood had drained from her face, and she looked as if she had seen a ghost. Backing up this theory was the way she had acted through the rest of the meeting, pale and shaky, as if the ground beneath her feet was not quite solid. She had kept sneaking unbelieving glances at him, as if wanting to reaffirm that he was, in fact, there, in the room, and real.

  In short, she did not behave like someone who had been adjusting to the idea of seeing a long-lost-somebody for an entire week. She behaved like someone who had been completely blindsided. Gobsmacked, even.

  Hmmm. That was an interesting development. He wondered why Henry would decide to keep something as significant as Amanda losing 20% of her anticipated inheritance from her until the official reading of the will. You would think that would be something he would want to allow her to brace herself for, to begin dealing with as soon as possible.

  Although, when Justin thought about it, she had barely batted an eye at the financial arrangement. The money didn't seem like it meant that much to her at all. It was seeing his face that had seemed to punch her in the gut.

  He mulled all of this over during the course of the day as he swept out and scrubbed down the bunkhouse, unpacked his meager belongings, collected clean linens and fitted them onto the cot, and generally made the bunkhouse livable. When, late in the afternoon, he stood in the middle of the room and surveyed the results of his day's labor, he was pleased with what he saw. In fact, he realized, it looked almost exactly as it had during the years when he had lived here as a young man. The best years of his life.

  His stomach rumbled as delectable smells drifted out to the bunkhouse from the main house, and he realized that he had gotten so wrapped up in both his physical labors and his rumination that he had actually forgotten to eat all day.

  He started to grab his wallet and head into town for a quick d
inner at Sue Ann's cafe, but then reconsidered. He needed to find out the details of the memorial service tomorrow anyway, so he was going to have to make an appearance at the main house at some point. No time like the present.

  Besides, he smiled slyly to himself, if he knew Lauren, Sam, and Karina at all, he was sure that he had been a main topic of conversation all day today. May as well insert himself into that conversation.

  --- ~ ---

  As Amanda moved the bite-size chicken pieces and chopped vegetables around the sauté pan in front of her, her head swam with conflicted emotions. Was it always going to be this way? If Justin did decide to stay and run the adventure resort with her, was her consciousness going to forever exist in such a state of unbalance?

  Karina, Sam, and Lauren had gone to visit Karina's grandmother, albeit reluctantly. They hadn't wanted to leave Amanda alone, but Amanda had insisted, coming just short of physically shoving them out the door.

  “I need to get my head on straight!” she had told them, “The only way I am going to accomplish that is with some serious soul searching and contemplation. And, barring that, a little 'come to Jesus' meeting with myself. Trust me! An hour alone will do me a world of good. I'll make dinner, and be a whole new woman by the time you get back.”

  So, the rest of the Fabulous Four had departed amidst skeptical expressions and admonitions to call if she needed anything.

  And now Amanda was by herself, cooking and contemplating, and not a whole lot seemed to be moving forward. She had started out feeling confused and vulnerable, and that was squarely where she still found herself. It didn't help that she had had ZERO hours of sleep the night before! Maybe it was time to try the 'come to Jesus' meeting.

  She heard a knock at the back door which led into the kitchen, and turned around to see the very source of her confusion and angst standing there, his handsome face framed in the glass pane of the exterior door like a finely wrought portrait.