“Meri,” Shelly said cautiously. She hadn’t planned out her words yet, but the thought had hedged its way into her mind when she first heard Meri was moving into the Tulip Cottage. “How would you feel about a roommate?”
There was a pause.
“You don’t have to answer right away. Just think about it. I would hardly be there; so I don’t think I’d be in your way or anything.”
Shelly wished she hadn’t mentioned the possibility. She felt strange asking her sister for a favor. Meri had always been the one who asked Shelly to bail her out.
“I can’t believe you’re asking me,” Meri said. “I kept wanting to suggest that you move in with me, but I thought you would think I was trying to run your life or something.”
“Why would you think that?”
“You’ve never needed anything from me. It felt strange being the one in the position to give you something. Remember last May when I was going to send you that cookbook I found at The Elliott Bay Book Company? It was called A World of Favorite Cookie Recipes, and I was so excited about it because I knew how much you loved to bake.”
Shelly vaguely remembered.
“I called you all jazzed about it,” Meredith said. “And you said you already had it.”
“So?” Shelly couldn’t figure out where this was leading.
“So, you always have everything. When we were growing up, you had all the right clothes. You had all the right ideas. You had all the answers to everything. I’m not trying to be mean, but you don’t need anyone or anything. I decided when I called you and you said you already had the cookie book that that was the last time I was going to try to give you anything. I know you don’t intend to, but, Shelly, you push people away.”
Shelly didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t get mad.”
“I’m not mad,” Shelly said. “I’m trying to figure out what you’re telling me.”
“Maybe I’m saying it too powerfully. I think I’m the one with the hormone rush today. Or maybe it’s all this stress. Anyway, all I’m trying to say is, I want into your life. I’d love to have you live with me at the lake. I’m just asking that you want me to be in your life, too.” Meredith drew in a deep breath, then kept talking before Shelly had a chance to respond. “I felt things were really improving between you and me the other day. Do you realize that was the first time we have ever talked seriously about Jonathan?”
“Is this a yes?” Shelly asked. She wasn’t comfortable with this sudden evaluation from her sister. She had always thought they had a terrific relationship and had never seen herself as holding back.
“Yes,” Meredith said firmly. “Yes, I want you to move in with me, and yes, I want you to keep letting me into your life. Is it a deal?”
“It’s a deal. When do you move?”
“This weekend. You scheduled to fly then?”
“No, not yet. If I don’t get called, I’ll move in with you on Saturday.”
“Good.” Meredith let out a sigh. It was a happy sigh. “This is going to be great. I have the rent covered the first few months, so why don’t you plan to start paying your half when we hit November.”
“You sure that would work out?”
“Yes. I wasn’t planning on sharing the rent. I have the bucks this time. Maybe you’ll end up carrying me for a couple of months another time.”
“Thanks, Meredith. I really appreciate this.”
“Are you kidding? I’m the one who’s excited. You don’t know how long I’ve hoped we could be sisters again like this.”
After Shelly hung up, she headed for the bath she had been promising herself. Soaking up to her chin, she thought over her sister’s words. What did Meri mean about hoping they could be sisters again?
Shelly realized her crazy, come-and-go schedule had made it hard for her to keep track of things over the past five years. She had missed more than one family member’s birthday because of her flight schedule. Sometimes she didn’t even know what day it was. Her move to Seattle was supposed to bring some stability. And maybe it would, eventually.
The move to Whidbey Island would do her good, and she felt certain the hour commute by ferry wouldn’t bother her. It was a small price to pay for the luxury of living in such natural beauty.
It was funny, but Jonathan had always said he wanted to live on one of the islands. At a camp. Shelly smiled to herself. How strange that my life is turning out to be a fulfillment of Jonathan’s dreams. I’m going to live on an island, right next to a camp. I never would have guessed it.
As the steaming water ministered to her tired frame, Shelly allowed herself the luxury of sinking deeper than ever into her thoughts of Jonathan. Why have I been so obsessed with him lately? It’s not as if I’ve never thought about him since I left. But he always seemed so removed, so permanently gone from my life. Here, he’s real. Ever present. Jonathan Renfield is so tightly woven into the fabric of my past that I can’t have a future here without constantly being confronted with his memory. It’s probably a good thing I’m moving out of this house and starting fresh on Whidbey. I have only one memory of Jonathan from that island, and that memory …
Shelly could feel the battle break out inside her heart. One side defended her right to never recall that night, the other side charged into her emotions, waving the glittering memories and shouting at Shelly, “Remember! Let yourself remember!”
She gave in.
Pressing the hot-water faucet with her toes, Shelly invited more warm water into her chilling tub. With the flow of bath water came the tandem flow of her long-stopped-up memories of that starlit night on Whidbey Island.
Exactly one week after they both graduated from high school, they had summer jobs. They had been officially dating ever since the night of Meredith’s flute recital and their hand-holding walk around the block. That was February; this was the middle of June. They hadn’t fought once. They held hands every time they were together. Everyone thought they were “cute.” When they kissed, it was as if the world around them turned into a spring garden, and the fragrance of that garden lingered on their lips long after the kiss ended.
Shelly closed her eyes and remembered Jonathan’s kisses. Oh, man, could he kiss. Even their very first kiss had been tender, sweet, and not at all awkward. He didn’t first kiss her in the tree house, as her older sisters had warned. It was at the front door after their first official date to the movies. Unlike their videotaped kiss as toddlers, this kiss was right on target.
The kiss took Shelly’s breath for a moment and then returned it. Only it wasn’t the breath she had breathed all her life. Jonathan’s kiss had filled her lungs with a fresh hope. For weeks afterward, she found herself daydreaming about Jonathan, drawing in deep draughts of air and holding her breath, remembering the sensation of their first kiss.
In Shelly’s estimation, it was in every way the perfect first kiss. It was the first kiss for both of them, and because they knew it, they treasured the gift even more. And like fine treasure, they gave their kisses to each other sparingly, neither of them willing to hurry the other. Their love, this pristine first love, was far more than “cute.” To Shelly it was sacred. Perhaps that’s why it had frightened her so and caused her to do what she did.
Chapter Six
Adjusting herself in the just-right bathwater, Shelly turned her memory to the June night on Whidbey Island when everything changed in her relationship with Jonathan.
He had told her he had a surprise date planned, something he had been working on for quite some time. Shelly left work at a Hallmark gift shop at four that afternoon. Jonathan said he would pick her up. He arrived in his friend’s truck, with a tarp covering something in the back. He refused to answer questions as they drove toward the harbor and got in line for the ferry to Whidbey Island. They sat in the cab of the truck with the engine off, in the line of bumper-to-bumper cars, waiting for the next ferry.
Shelly gave up trying to figure out Jonathan’s scheme and began to tell
him her big news. That morning’s mail had brought the letter she had been waiting for. She had been accepted at flight attendant school and had her choice of start dates. She had talked about this for a long time, so Jonathan seemed only slightly surprised that she had heard back. Even when she told him that the flight school was in Los Angeles, he didn’t seem ruffled.
“It’s only for six weeks,” Shelly told him. “I’m already thinking that most of the money I’m making at my summer job will end up going for my phone bill. I thought we could set a regular time each day, and that way we’ll stay caught up on everything with each other. It won’t even seem like I’m gone. It’ll go fast.”
Jonathan had only smiled that unsinkable smile of his and nodded at her suggestions. She talked about which session might be best: August or October. The next session started in four days, and that, of course, was too soon. Jonathan listened but said little.
Finally he let the words he seemed to be holding inside tumble from his upturned lips. “Life is a mystery. We never know what lies ahead in our path.”
At the time Shelly had thought it strange. A quirky poetic thought that seemed to fit where Jonathan’s head had been lately. As much as he loved the outdoors and talked about going to school to study forestry, a new side of Jonathan was emerging, a melancholy side. Sometimes he would put his arm around Shelly when they sat together at the movies or at home, and he would quietly hum in her ear. He had even bought a CD of classical love songs. She liked it. She liked their young love. She liked having Jonathan in her life. Shelly knew he would always be there for her.
Whenever she had tried to picture where the path was leading, she had seen Jonathan going off to college at Humboldt. Her senior picture in a brass frame would sit on his desk, and he would smile at her every time he passed by. They would talk long hours on the phone whenever she landed long enough to call. She would tell him all about the exciting places she had been and the things she had seen. Jonathan would listen. He always liked to listen to her. Then he would coax her to come home to Seattle for Christmas, and they would walk together on those long, dark, wintry nights.
It had seemed logical and likely to Shelly that their hearts would travel together down a long, straight, unbumpy road for many, many years while each of them explored their interests and lived out their dreams. They would always know the other would be there.
Shelly remembered how the ferry line had moved forward, and they had nudged the borrowed truck into the belly of the craft. Her eyes were full of stardust that evening as they climbed up to the deck and braced themselves against the wind off the amber waters. The bold Seattle skyline shrunk as the ferry carried them to Whidbey Island. Clouds gathered overhead like cancan dancers ready to fan their wide, frilly skirts the moment the spotlight from the setting sun hit them.
Shelly and Jonathan drove off with the weary residents who were eager to be home. Jonathan knew right where he was going, which was typical of him. The truck stopped at a public park. He got out, undid the tarp, and pulled out their two bicycles.
“But I’m wearing a skirt,” Shelly moaned.
Jonathan smiled and handed her a grocery bag carefully folded at the top. Inside were a pair of her jeans, a deep green sweater, a pair of socks, and her tennis shoes. “Your mom packed it for me,” Jonathan explained.
Shelly changed in the restroom and emerged looking like a model for an Eddie Bauer catalog. Off they rode, Jonathan leading the way as if he had this all planned out. The trail led them through a grove of marvelous, sturdy evergreens, past cottages, and up a very steep hill. At the top they stopped to rest by a video-rental store, and Jonathan urged Shelly to keep pedaling two more blocks. There stood their destination, a charming restaurant called “Rondi’s,” complete with an outdoor patio trimmed with tiny twinkling white lights. They found a table and caught their breath.
Jonathan smiled all through their gourmet dinner. Fresh salmon, Shelly remembered, with an almond glaze. For dessert they shared a slab of angel-food cake drizzled with fresh raspberry sauce. The raspberries, they were told, were from Rondi’s garden.
Every detail from that night returned to Shelly as she soaked in the tub. She hadn’t thought of any of this for years. The way their knees touched under the small table; the way Jonathan’s usually stormy, gray eyes had shone golden in the light of their table candle; the way he had put down his fork and cleared his throat.
“Michelle,” he said. It was the only time she remembered his ever using her given name. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. I’ve talked to my parents, and I’ve talked to your dad.”
Her heart had begun to pound then. She remembered the way Jonathan calmly reached across the table and enveloped her small hand with his.
“I love you,” he whispered, looking deep into her eyes. “I’ve always loved you.” With his free hand he reached inside the pocket of his jeans and held out, in the palm of his hand, a delicate diamond ring. “Will you marry me?”
Shelly remembered all too well the sensation that followed. All the breath had been sucked from her lungs. Not as it had when he first kissed her. That time the breath returned sweeter, fresher. This time she had to gasp for air, pulling it from the shrinking atmosphere all by herself. Jonathan could not give this breath back to her.
“What are you saying?” she had finally managed.
“I want to marry you. This summer. If my final acceptance comes through for Humboldt, we’ll move there in the fall. I’ve already checked into their student housing. If you work full-time and if we accept the loan my parents have offered us, we should do just fine.”
“What—what about my flight school?”
“That will always be there,” Jonathan said. “You can enroll anytime. You even said so today. Maybe you can go next summer or after I get my degree. I’m thinking of the long term here, Shel. I know we can make it together. I can’t go away to school without you. I don’t want to wait four years to marry you. Don’t you see? This is the best way for us.”
Shelly’s mind had clouded over so that she felt like a ship lost at sea. She had no idea which way to turn to find safe harbor. “Our parents agreed to this?”
Jonathan nodded eagerly. “Your dad was a little surprised, but he understands my reasons for not wanting to wait. My parents love you. You know that. They’re all for it. That’s why they offered us a loan.”
Shelly pushed back in her chair so their knees no longer touched. She slowly extracted her hand from his. Her head was bent, her eyes staring at the dainty ring still offered in his palm.
“Shel?”
It took her a long time to find the words. “No,” she finally managed in a hoarse whisper. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
She watched as Jonathan’s strong fingers slowly closed on the ring like an oyster protecting its pearl. She couldn’t look at his face.
Neither of them spoke for a painful stretch of time. Shelly felt like apologizing. She wanted to cry but had no tears that would show themselves in this semipublic setting.
Jonathan paid the bill, unlocked their bikes, and led the way down the steep hill, past the placid cottages and through the somber forest of evergreens that watched them with boughs bent in the twilight.
Once the bikes were secure in the bed of the truck, they drove to the harbor, still shrouded in silence. Right before they were signaled to drive up the plank into the ferry, Shelly let loose. Everything inside her gushed out.
“Why didn’t you discuss this with me before talking to our parents and buying a ring and everything? Doesn’t my opinion matter? And what about my dreams? You know how long I’ve wanted to go to flight attendant school. How can you treat that as if it were nothing, and put your dreams and aspirations ahead of mine? Haven’t we always been friends who shared everything with each other? Why did all that change? Suddenly you have to make all the decisions, and you have to have it all figured out, and you don’t even think about consulting me! How can you say you love me? You don’t even respect
my opinion enough to ask for it!”
When Shelly stopped to catch her breath, the tears were streaming from her eyes. The boat was in motion, crossing the water, but instead of getting out of the truck and going up on top, the two of them remained fixed in the cab with the windows rolled up tight.
Jonathan jumped in the moment she paused and let loose with his own bottled-up hurt. “Where did you think our relationship was leading? You can’t tell me you never thought about getting married right away. I know you must have. That’s all I’ve thought about for weeks. Months, maybe. I planned everything. Everything! All you had to do was say yes! Why do you have to be so stubborn and insist on having everything your way?”
It was the worst fight the two of them had ever had. If there had been something for Shelly to throw at Jonathan in the cab of that truck, she would have thrown it. All she had were her words, and she heaved them at him until it seemed there was no breath left inside of her.
The ferry docked. They drove home with the silence hanging like a noose around their necks. One false move and they would be choked. Jonathan parked in front of his house. He turned off the engine and faced Shelly. She let his stormy gaze rain its misery all over her. It didn’t matter. Everything was ruined. She was so mad at Jonathan Charles Renfield she could have slugged him.
His voice came to her across the openness on the bench seat that separated them. It was not a tame voice. “You know I’ll always love you,” he said.
Shelly didn’t answer with words. Instead, she did something she had never expected to do. In one movement she went from her side of the cab to Jonathan’s, and for the first time ever, she initiated a kiss. Not an innocent, gentle kiss like the ones they had strewn like wildflowers through their young love. This was a forceful, angry kiss, as if she were greedy to get back from him the perfect, simple love he had destroyed with his proposal. She kissed him hard.
He put his arms around her and tried to hold her, but Shelly pulled away with all her might. She caught only a glimpse of his face as she kicked open the passenger door and fled, but his look haunted her for months. It was as if she had cut loose his emotional moorings and sent him drifting out to sea without a sail.
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