Pieces of Hope

by Carter, Carolyn

  “About time the guest of honor arrived . . .” The deep voice was unmistakable. My heart skipped several beats when I saw him, now standing in the open doorway. “We’ve been waiting for you.” Ethan was wearing black slacks and an expensively tailored shirt that was the same shade that he glowed. Guessing he had chosen it for me, I smiled. When I glanced down and saw that his feet were bare, my unease at being underdressed faded away.

  “Great dress,” he said. Before he hugged me, I stole a quick look at myself, silently thanking the person who had taken the time to make me more appropriate. (Rin laughed.) It wasn’t exactly my style—black, ruffled, and halter went together in my head like mustard, sushi, and peanut butter—but it fit well, gave me girly curves I never knew I had, and Ethan seemed to like it so I had no complaints.

  “Why am I here?” I asked Ethan. But someone else had stolen his attention.

  “You must be Gus!” Ethan was saying. He reached around me to shake his hand and I took a wobbly step sideways, nearly falling off my four-inch platforms. I glared at Rin, but she reminded me how great they made my legs look and how much Ethan liked them—so I stopped snarling. “I’ve heard about your amazing talents with birds,” Ethan went on. How he managed to say that with a straight face was anybody’s guess. Ethan had a great memory. I’d only told him once about my friends at the Station. It was when we were at Poppy’s pond. Unfortunately, my memory wasn’t nearly as good.

  “Some might call it a talent,” Gus chortled in his German accent.

  “And you must be Rin!” Ethan went on. “You’re as beautiful as Hope described.” I thought I saw Rin blush. “And you,” he opened his arms wide. “I feel like I know you. You must be the one and only, Creesie Brown.” She giggled like a young girl. Evidently, I had no idea of the charms that he possessed. “How can I ever thank you for taking care of my girl?”

  “Oh, we love her, too!” Creesie muttered, still in the throes of giving Ethan a rather exuberant hug. I wondered if I was going to need a crowbar to pry him away, but after a few unsuccessful attempts on Ethan’s part, Creesie finally let him go.

  “Come in, everyone.” Ethan reached for my hand. “Let’s not keep the honored guest waiting.” He lowered his voice for my ears only. “I think you’ll be sufficiently surprised.”

  “I think I already am.” I cast an eye in Rin, Creesie, and Mac’s direction.

  Just past the foyer, we entered a massive room with a sleek kitchen to our left and a casual family room to our right. It was elegantly updated; mostly white with splashes of red everywhere, whitewashed timbers, and high-pitched ceilings. A six-foot banner, attached by skinny green ribbons, hung from the exposed beams. I kept trying to read all the messages scribbled on it, but dozens of pink and yellow balloons danced along the ceiling every time a breeze blew in. I looked harder between the balloons.

  You’re back! Let’s go climbing! Brody . . . I missed you, Hope!!! Claire . . . What took you so long? Love, Uncle Donald . . . Missed my tomboy. Love you, Katydid. Dad . . . Did you enjoy your trip? Aunt Dee and the Kids . . . Tyler missed you terribly and so did we! Mr. and Mrs. A and Family . . . Long time no see. Sophie Langley. There were also several messages from people I didn’t know as well as one from each of my new friends. But Ethan’s was conspicuously absent.

  Behind their sentiments, big, cursive letters read: Welcome home, Hope!

  Ethan flashed an enormous smile. “What are you thinking?”

  “I—where do they think I’ve been? This is . . .” I got all choked up.

  “I thought you needed this. Show you all the reasons you ought to come back. It was a little self-serving, but I wanted to remind you how many people love you.”

  “I do, you know.” A sigh escaped. “I mean, I really do love you.” He kissed a sweet spot on the side of my neck. I wanted to ravage him right then and there, but I knew Creesie, Gus, and Rin were somewhere behind us. Ravage later, I reminded myself.

  For the first time since my arrival, I had a moment to look around. Past the inverted sea of helium-filled balloons, I noticed that a retractable wall of glass had been shoved aside, opening onto a huge patio. It left no separation between the inside and the outside. I liked the look and feel of the place. Lavish but livable. I’d seen this look before at Ethan’s apartment. Several dozen people milled around outdoors, oblivious to my arrival.

  “This is another of Madeline’s creations,” Ethan said, watching me. “She bought it because celebrities live nearby. I told you she isn’t very earthy.”

  “This can’t be . . . Boston?” I was suddenly confused.

  “Malibu. It’s one of Madeline’s favorite places to visit. She likes the star sightings.”

  “How many homes do your parents’ have?”

  He laughed, then paused. “You’d have to ask her that. Buying and selling real estate is what she does for fun. Some women like shoes. My mother likes property.”

  A great bear hug lifted me off my feet, forcing the air from my lungs.

  “WELCOME BACK, HOPE!” Brody shouted into my ear. I thought I’d gone deaf. I was still wondering where they thought I’d been when Brody shouted again, “How was your trip to Europe? And all those Europeans?” He laughed a little. “Tyler came up with a great joke, ‘Ima-peein. You’re-a-peein.’ Get it? The kid hasn’t come up with an opening line, just the punch line. But I think he’s a natural—sort of following in his big bro’s footsteps—if you know what I mean.”

  Claire glared at him as if to say shut-up-already, but there was love in her eyes. If I remembered right, Brody had made up a similar dumb joke in the first grade.

  “Oh yeah, and this one”—Brody made eyes at Claire—“is dying to hear about your trip. She hasn’t stopped talking about you since she got here.”

  I glimpsed a laughing Ethan out of my peripheral vision. I was in Europe?

  Claire squeezed me in her stick arms after playfully shoving Brody aside. “Hope,” she said, dragging out my name. “Why does it feel like you’ve been gone so long?”

  I was relieved that she didn’t know she was dreaming, that she didn’t recall where I was in real life, or have any notion of how long I’d been gone. A pit opened in the bottom of my stomach.

  “I want us to be close again,” she whispered. “Like when we were kids.” When she leaned away, I could see that her eyes were wet.

  “Sure,” I told her, thinking of Monopoly games and dancing in her room. Were we about to embark on a second childhood together? “Sure, Claire. I’d love that.”

  “Really?” She hugged me again. I wasn’t accustomed to this much affection from my aloof but beautiful sister. She looked around, and seeming to realize where we were, urged, “Come to the patio!” She reached for my hand. “Wait till you see this spectacular view! Wasn’t it nice of Ethan’s family to fly us out here?” Then she whispered so low I almost missed it, “Are they like celebrities or something?”

  “Or something,” I said, rolling my eyes. What kind of convoluted story had Ethan drummed up to make this visit more real? His parents had flown everyone out here? And how had he managed to get everyone here at the same time? In the same dream!

  As we drifted toward the patio, I lost Claire’s hand and grabbed Ethan’s (Brody was sidetracked by a waiter’s platter of food, and Claire was sidetracked by Brody) and waited while Brody made more selections. Ethan hadn’t stopped smiling. “You have questions?” he asked. His voice was an irresistible mix of smooth and deep, and as I looked at him, I forgot what I was about to say.

  Then, it came back to me. “How did you make this happen? Did you visit everyone in their dreams?” He just kept smiling, a secret glistening in his eyes. “Ethan, isn’t everyone dreaming? How did you pull this off?”

  “Someone recently told me you were very curious.” He placed a finger before my lips as if to quiet me. “Yes, they’re dreaming. But we’ll get to the details later.”

  “Someone told you I was curious?” Only one person fit that bill,
the same one who kept reminding me of cats and death and curiosity. Had Cat spoken to Ethan?

  We were still waiting on Brody when a manicured hand squeezed my shoulder from behind. I turned. The squeeze came from an elegant-looking brunette with stiff newscaster hair. She had on a luxurious-looking, creamy-colored pantsuit. I recognized her from the graduation photo on Ethan’s dresser. She flashed the briefest of smiles, then planted an air kiss on each of Ethan’s cheeks. I’d never seen that done before, except on television. I think my jaw was open. Ethan laughed under his breath—at me.

  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting the girl who stole Ethan’s heart. And finally, here she is.” She enunciated every syllable. I thought she sounded like Oprah. Or maybe she just sounded rich.

  “Hope, this is my mother, Madeline. Mother, this is Hope . . .” Ethan gave my side a gentle squeeze. I took it as a sign to keep breathing. I was more jittery than I thought I’d be, but Madeline was intimidating. She had peering eyes that reminded me of a bird of prey, a narrow beak-like nose, and a steady, unblinking gaze.

  As she continued to peer at me, I said lamely, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Have you?” She wagged a painted finger at Ethan. “I hope it wasn’t all bad.”

  Madeline was still laughing with exuberance when a man with disheveled hair and twinkling eyes strode up behind her. The older man embraced Ethan, then bent Ethan’s head down so that he could kiss the top of it. Then he turned to Madeline and planted a passionate kiss along collar bone. I blushed before she did.

  “Patric!” She chastised lovingly, maneuvering just out of lips’ reach. “We have a house full of guests!”

  Patric made no apologies for the lip service, but he did apologize for being late. His heavy Irish accent was surprising, but lovely. Madeline tried to smooth his hair. “It’s just the way it is, honey. There’s no helping it.” He caught my eye then. “Ethan told us you were a beautiful young lady. You must be his one and only Hope.”

  My face had to be as red as Madeline’s. Ethan’s dad was charming. Now I could see where Ethan got it from. Some traits, I supposed, just transcended genetics.

  Suddenly shy, I mumbled, “Thank you, Mr. Reid.”

  “Ah now, go on and call me Patric,” he said politely. “That’s what most everyone calls me on my good days. On my bad days . . .” he chuckled, “Lord knows what they call me.”

  “Hope—” Madeline’s voice was softer and more girlish with Patric beside her. “We haven’t heard how you and Ethan met. If you’re going to steal my only son’s heart, I’d like to have the inside story. Ethan doesn’t do much telling.”

  There was a pause, seemingly long in my mind, then Ethan came to my rescue.

  “Mother, I’ve already told you . . . Hope is the girl of my dreams.”

  “Isn’t it the truth, son. Aren’t they all?” laughed his father. “Aren’t they all?”

  “Where are my manners?” Madeline suddenly exclaimed in surprise. “How impolite of us to keep you from your family,” she said. “But one question before you go.” I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Would you mind telling me your secret for avoiding jet-lag? I must say you look very refreshed.”

  “Yes, good question,” Ethan said seriously. “Tell us your secret, Hope.”

  I recalled Mom’s vanity at home, reminding myself that no one but Ethan knew they were dreaming. To them, all of this was really happening. I stole a glimpse at Ethan who was doing everything he could to keep from laughing.

  “Oil of Olay?” I muttered. Madeline pursed her lips as if this sounded unbelievable. She was probably used to the pricier goat placenta crèmes.

  “Go on now. Enjoy yourselves.” Madeline motioned toward the deck, smiling now, the charming Patric at her side. “There will be ample time for catching up later. I’m looking forward to hearing a little more about you.” She sounded like she meant it, and I saw that the harder edges of her personality—and those peering eyes—had softened just a little.

  Before I moved an inch, I remembered my manners. “Thank you for this, Madeline. Thank you so much.” I leaned in to hug her. Though she felt like a skinny strip of cardboard, I caught a hint of something familiar on her skin. She smelled just like my mother. “I can see how much you love your son,” I said softly. “I hope that I can make him happy.”

  “And how could we ask for more?” Her voice was kind. “Enjoy!” she called after us. Brody led the way to the outdoor deck, his hands full of two heaping plates of food. Claire was behind him with two more plates. I was scanning their plates for anything with sugar.

  Once we cleared the doorway, I heard reggae music bopping in the background. The dee-jay had set up behind the pool. There were dozens of people milling around. Unless they were distant relatives that I’d conveniently forgotten, I didn’t recognize any of them.

  “Who are all these people?” I asked Ethan.

  “Some are your family and friends. Some are mine.” He looked smug, certain of his plan. “That way when you really do meet them in person, something about you will seem familiar to them. They might even ask if they’ve met you before.”

  “Oh,” I said with a laugh, “I definitely underestimated your deviousness.”

  “You have no idea.” He gave me a devilish wink.

  Beige stone paved the grand outdoor space. We were standing just a few feet from an exotic-shaped pool. Brody’s little brothers were there, screaming and shoving each other’s heads under the water. Aunt Dee was there too, watching hawk-like over her granddaughters. Aunt Dee was, in Dad’s words, a Nervous Nelly, and even now I could see how her hands trembled. I attempted to catch her eye, but she looked nail-bitingly certain that—despite their life vests—the twins might drown in three feet of water. Only little Tyler saw me. He waved exuberantly, just before Derek shoved him under again.

  Two fire pits that doubled as water fountains burned at opposite ends of the patio. I’d never seen fire and water together like that. But then I thought of Ethan and me—fire heated water; water tempered fire. It was a good mix. Beyond them, a dimly lit path led the way to what looked like the precipice of a cliff. I couldn’t see any sign of the beach from here. But I could see the ocean stretching on forever, waves shimmering darkly in the moonlight. And I could hear the tide pulsing repetitively under the staggered reggae beats as if it were absently keeping time with the music.

  “That first step’s a doozy,” Brody announced, chomping a tiny drumstick. “If Ethan was game, we ought to rap down to the water, then climb back up—you know, the way we did at Heaven’s Peak.” He stopped to lick his fingers. “Whaddaya think, Ethan?”

  “Not such a great idea, Brody. That cliff’s mostly dirt, very little rock. Ever heard of California mudslides?”

  “Dude,” Brody said between bites. “It might still be killer.”

  Yeah, killer. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Brody was a walking land mine; he ought to be declared a national disaster. A sense of dread sliced through me as I recalled how easily any of them could be hurt. Soul-to-soul visits weren’t everything they were cracked up to be. Especially for the living.

  I purposely ignored the chill that crept up my spine. Probably just my neurotic sense of protection that kicked in whenever Ethan was near. Several guests spotted me then, and Ethan introduced me to his favorite Aunt Elisa, Madeline’s sister. The physical resemblance was unmistakable, but Elisa was warm and easy to talk to, more like Ethan’s father. I also met the grandfather who had given Ethan a yacht for his tenth birthday. Burr was a stately, silver-haired, bushy-mustached man seeming to dislike anything human. After he had run off to get a refill, Ethan explained that the old man was better with numbers than with people. I decided to introduce him to Gigi. She’d loosen him up. He’d never know what hit him.

  Near one of the fiery water fountains, several guests sat at built-in stone benches with plump cushions. That’s where I spotted Dad and Gigi and Grandma and Grandpa Valenti.
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  “Dad!” I shouted, tramping over to him, stumbling only once on my heels.

  He scrambled up from his seat, scarcely having time to stand before I reached him.

  “Whoa!” Dad chuckled, falling back a little as I squeezed him in a life-threatening embrace. “Even on those monstrosities, you’re faster than I remember.” He glanced down at my shoes. Dad looked handsome and healthy, the way he had always looked when Mom was around. The dark circles under his eyes were absent, and he had packed on a few pounds as well. I held onto him for the longest time.

  “I missed you, too, honey. I missed you, too . . .” he repeated again and again.

  “Come here my little sweet potato!” Grandpa Valenti captured me in a sandwich of grandparents. They had moved to Denver six years ago to be closer to Aunt Dee’s kids, and I only saw them on holidays and odd summers. It was amazing how much I’d missed them. I thought my heart was going to explode.

  Uncle Donald was there as well, with his new girlfriend, a redhead. He liked to mix things up and get a new one every few months or so. I’d never met this one. “Hey kiddo . . . Welcome home. Am I still your favorite uncle?”

  “Aside from the fact that you’re my only uncle?” I teased back. But even if I’d had several, Uncle Donald would still take the top slot. He was a great secret-keeper. I’d told him enough stuff to get me grounded for several lifetimes.

  Clarence and Linda Alexander were there, too. Mr. A briefly patted my shoulder. It was his usual manner of greeting. Nothing too warm or too fuzzy. Conservative.

  “Hope,” Mr. A said, “we thought Brody was going to die of a broken heart without you. He hasn’t been climbing since you left.” Brody was right, I thought. His father’s voice really could put crickets to sleep.