If Only (Captured)

by Louise J

  The owner smiles at me and gestures with his hand toward it. “Take a look, sugar.” I instantly pick up on his slight southern accent. “This is my baby, Roberta. I saw her at an auction and just had to buy her. She was born the same year as me, the Summer of Love.” He finished with a mock hippy type of tone and suggestively raised eyebrows. I can’t help but laugh. “I like your hair, sugar.” He admires my shocking pink, which now has purple highlights, with his ocean-blue eyes.

  I grin at the compliment. “Thanks. I like yours, too.”

  I’d been appreciating his short, loose, blond curls. We’re in the shade, but I imagine they appear golden in the sun. I loved Justine Timberlake’s when he had them, but this guy’s are even better. He’s an attractive man, with fair stubble and a lean physique. I’d like to capture him, but it feels inappropriate to ask. Going by his image and his manner, so far, I’ve decided he’s a modern day hippy.

  He slides the door open, so I can check out the inside. It’s amazing, cozy and cute. With the exception of the lack of a toilet, it’s a perfect living place if major space or storage isn’t required. The rear has seating that looks like it could fold out for sleeping and the area just behind the driver and passenger seats are cooking facilities. Synthetic sunflowers and daffodils form part of the décor and lime drapes add a splash of brightness to the brown and beige interior. What a ride?

  After making my request, I snap away at the interior and exterior and I do wonder if he lives in it, but I won’t ask that. There aren’t clothes or anything to suggest it, so I guess not.

  “You’d go nicely in here, sugar. Picture us driving along, the windows down, your pretty hair blowing in the wind.” This time he spoke with a dramatic edge to his tone and hand movements. You’d think he was trying to sell me a tour of Arizona in his Kombi. I have to chuckle again. It feels so good to laugh.

  “Thanks for letting me take photos.” I say goodbye and go into the café, already looking forward to putting some of the shots up on my blog tonight.

  Sitting at a corner table, with my café mocha and newest book purchase, I’m barely halfway down the first page when I ‘feel’ a presence in front of me. I gaze up to find the Kombi Man standing on the other side of my table, a mug in hand. “Hi,” I say, being friendly.

  “Hey, want some company?”

  “Sure, why not?” I close my novel and place it by my beverage. He takes the seat opposite me and puts his mug down. I read the label hanging over the side. “A fan of fruit and herbal tea?” I ask.

  “Yes, actually, I love this rosehip and strawberry one.”

  “It sure smells nice. So are you a health freak?” I smirk, in jest, so that I don’t offend him.

  “Most days, yeah, I’m vegan every day and I don’t smoke, but I do like a beer or two. Gotta have some vices, right?” I giggle at him and myself. My judgment of him as a modern day hippy had him smoking dope every night. “And you?” he asks.

  “Well, not really. I’m vegetarian every day and I don’t smoke, but I like a coffee or five a day and a cocktail or two some nights. I’m just normal, I guess.”

  His lips curve with a mix of friendliness and humor. “What’s your name, sugar?”

  “Callie. And yours?”

  “Roman.” He reaches across the table to shake my hand.

  I return the gesture. “I’m picking up a very slight southern accent there, Roman.”

  “Yeah, I was born in Kentucky, but I left at the age of twenty to travel through Europe. I met my wife in Italy, she’s from Arizona – we moved back here five years ago. I haven’t lived in Kentucky since I left, but I visit the folks every now and then. The ‘slight’ to the accent is because of all those travels and trying to be better understood; I had to go easy on the southern drawl, and now I’m left talking like this. I picked up on the “dude” word several times outside, and other such vocab, being “totally” stereotypical, I’m thinking you’re from California.”

  “Yes, San Francisco.”

  Roman’s response is to break into the opening verse of The Mama’s and the Papa’s San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair). I guffaw so loud the other customers turn and look at me. He even put actions to the words. “Well, don’t you have a pretty smile?” he says, grinning wide.

  “Thanks.” I’m still trying to compose myself. He doesn’t know it, but he’s made my day, and not because of the compliment. Laughter is such a good thing.

  “So what exactly brings you here?” He takes a sip of his sweet smelling fruity tea.

  I don’t have a problem composing myself now that he’s asked me the one question I don’t want to be asked. I clear my throat. “I just needed to get away for a while. I’m staying with my aunt and uncle.” I offer a small smile and take a taste of my café mocha, my gaze dropping to the table top.

  “Oh, I get it. Don’t worry, sugar, there are lots of other things we can talk about. Not many people in this part of the world refer to Roberta as a Kombi. You know a thing or two about that type of vehicle?”

  “God, I love them. And the old style bugs – I had my own a few years back. After I finished college I took a trip to Australia with my best friend and our boyfriends. We came across a Kombi parade, the most amazing thing ever. That name is way cooler than bus and technically it’s more accurate, if you think about its origins.”

  He grins. “I couldn’t agree more. What happened to your poor little bug?”

  We hit it off instantly. Our conversation is fun, as I expected, and everything about Roman is relaxed, easy going. I’ve met eccentric characters before, but Roman is in a league of his own. I can only think of him as random, with his hippyisms and worldly influences. His name doesn’t even sound southern to me, and then he tops it off with his veganism, but I guess that could be categorized under hippy. He’s totally random and actually pretty awesome.

  Roman’s open during our conversation, telling me so much more about himself than I need to know, but I like his honesty. He’s a little suggestive at times, but not pushy or sleazy. I do wonder if he practices free love, though. We talk about my career and interests and after a while I give him a condensed, vague version of my reason for being here; a difficult breakup. He seems understanding and tells me about meditation, which he says is good for ‘quieting the mind.’ He’s been teaching that and Yoga for almost sixteen years and says it was the only thing that kept him sane during his divorce, two years ago. I figure if it can help get someone through a separation like that then it should be helpful with my problems.

  “Well, I must say, sugar, your company this afternoon has been exceptional,” Roman says, smiling with sincerity in his eyes. It’s dark outside now - we’ve spent hours talking about everything and nothing. “Make sure you keep that pretty smile on your face.”

  “I’ve loved your company, Roman. You are without a doubt King of Awesome. Thank you.”

  He places his open hand over his heart. “That has got to be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. I’m touched.” He’s still grinning, but I actually think he means that. I meant it - he’s the coolest freaking dude, and in his company, smiling is effortless.

  I pick up the leaflet for Roman’s classes and slip it into my purse. This is perfect timing for me, because I’m overly aware that Joe’s baby is due in a month. I’ve been fighting questions like, will it be early? Will it be late? Will it be a boy or girl? Is it already here? I desperately need a distraction, now more than ever.

  ****

  I’ve been doing either Yoga or meditation every night, for the past two months. Well, sort of. I achieved the headstand and a bunch of other poses, and the King of Awesome said I was a natural and perfect for that type of class, but after one month I dropped Yoga.

  I like to be active and keep busy, but anything gym based is not my thing. I’ve never been one for any kind of exercise that goes beyond walking from one place to another or a night of dancing. Although, I did hike my ass-off when I first arrived in Ariz
ona, but I had the motivation of wanting to capture beautiful sunrises and sunsets from the tops of various mountains. Yoga asked more of me than I wanted to give, although I did like the idea of being more flexible.

  That benefit only had me wondering if Joe would’ve liked me suppler.

  I’ve continued with the meditation, because it relaxes me and only requires me to lay or sit and be still. I can also do it on my own when I need to switch off my thoughts. It’s not easy at all, it’s mentally challenging. I’m not perfect at it, but even just trying to achieve a quiet mind distracts me. I’m happy I found this method and it fills in the time of day that needed something, when I’m lying in bed and can’t sleep.

  I haven’t escaped those questions about the baby being due, I didn’t expect that I would, but I’m getting through it. I’m certain the child has arrived by now and that makes it harder to call. I don’t feel ready to hear the details and until I do, I won’t be calling. I miss Joe every day and love him no less than when I left, but I try not to focus on those things as best as I can, because it only makes my stay harder. The meditation is a godsend.

  Things have become unexpectedly interesting; I’ve started getting freelance photography work. After I finished my aunt’s catalogue, Roman was so impressed he hired me to design his new class leaflets. Then a woman who attends his Yoga liked them and asked me to do photos for her granddaughters christening. Word of mouth has gotten me more work, so I’ve started advertising myself. This, of course, wasn’t part of the plan, but for the first time since coming to Scottsdale I feel good, and it’s been a great way to busy myself.

  Fifty

  I’ve been living in Scottsdale for over thirteen months, which is so much longer than I intended. The demand for my photography has been unexpectedly high, and it’s been the most successful and the happiest point in my career.

  All this enjoyment and success has made it easier to stay. Problem is, the longer I’ve been here the harder it’s felt to go back. That was especially the case around the significant dates that related to Joe and me; his birthday – the day we got together, the day I saw him for the last time and the day we were to marry. I don’t miss or love Joe any less than when I first arrived, but I don’t hurt as much, although, I don’t allow myself to think about it in detail. I block the thoughts out as soon as they present themselves. I’m even doing wedding jobs, which I avoided to start with, but I was missing out on a lot of work. Taking them on is largely why I’ve been so busy. I’ve made an unexpected switch from fashion magazines and nightclubs to wedding photography, but I’m actually enjoying it.

  To date, I still don’t know anything about Joe or his baby. I’ve chosen not to, I wanted to learn those things from him directly. I should’ve made contact by now and I have tried. Countless times.

  Like right now.

  I’m sitting here on the bed, phone in hand, and I can’t make myself call him. This is Déjà vu. I pick up my cell, sometimes I select his name, I think about what I’ll say – I don’t press the ‘call’ button.

  Déjà-fucking-vu!

  I don’t know what to say to Joe, or how talking to him will make me feel. I don’t know where we fit in with each other’s lives anymore. All these unknowns, among others, stop me calling.

  One person who I might be able to speak to is Dane; I’ve always found him easy to talk to. He’s also a step closer to Joe without it actually being Joe.

  Okay, here goes …

  I select Dane in my cell and … press ‘call.’ The dial tone sounds. My stomach flutters and my heart races. No, I’m losing my nerve. I want to press the ‘end’ button, but he’ll know I’ve called. Dammit, I have to see this through. Shit! Why isn’t he answering? Answer already–

  “Damn, girl, I began to think I’d never hear from you again.”

  “Hi, Dane.” I start to fiddle nervously with the hem of my denim skirt. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long. I hope you don’t hate me.”

  “No, I don’t, silly. But, madam, you are lucky Su was willing to keep me updated. I was serious when I said I’d come after your ass.”

  “Su kept you updated? She didn’t say.” I realize that would be my fault, because of my ban on talking about Joe or anything to do with him.

  “Yes, she did. Sounds like you’re all right, with your business and stuff. I didn’t expect you to settle. I thought we’d have heard from you a while back. I thought you’d be back by now.” He sounds disappointed. I feel bad.

  “I didn’t plan on staying so long. The business just like … kind of came out of nowhere and took off, a weird sequence of events that led from one job to another and another. It was more about having a distraction, so I went along with it. I really needed to keep my mind busy. I’ve been meditating most days, too. I think you’d like it, it’s pretty awesome.”

  He laughs lightly. “Probably.”

  “I am sorry, Dane. You deserved a call way before now, but it turns out I’m totally lame, I didn’t have the guts. I wanted to, I honestly did.”

  “It’s okay. You’re good, right?”

  “I guess. Even though it’s been over a year and a lot’s happened, it doesn’t feel so long ago. It’s gone by quick. I kinda like blocked everything out. That’s why I went along with the work that came my way. Tell me what you’ve been up to. Has anyone tamed the wild beast yet?”

  He chuckles and starts filling me in. We chat about him, which has me smiling the whole time, Gerard, which has me laughing hard in places – I miss that cheeky bastard, and Saffron and Adam.

  “They have a kid?” I ask, astounded and wondering if I’m hearing things.

  “Yeah, they found out Saff was pregnant a couple weeks after you left? Su didn’t tell you? I know you two don’t discuss Joe, but you didn’t even know that?”

  I shake my head, to clear it, still unable to believe what I heard. “No. Wow! I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise, I knew they were trying, but wow.” Now I know why Su was so eager to talk about Saffron soon after I got here. She tried to push a few times, but I wouldn’t allow it.

  “He was born four months after Joe’s boy.” I suck in a deep breath, feeling like I just took a sucker punch to the gut. I was so not ready to hear that.

  Joe has a son.

  “Callie?”

  “Um, yeah … shit, this is all a bit of a shock. Su and I don’t talk about this stuff at all. It’s nice that they were born close. They’ll probably grow up more like brothers than cousins. ” Stop the babbling already. I silence myself.

  A little Joe exists.

  I recall how much I wanted that to be me someday; to have a son that looked like Joe, and his father, and his father’s father.

  This call’s made me feel worse. I’m insanely jealous.

  “So what’s the plan?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. I think … I think a lot has changed.” Solid details make things too real.

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” This is a surprise.

  “You agree with me?”

  “After you left, Joe was hoping it would help and that at some point you’d at least speak to him. He concentrated on the baby coming, and supported Emily, but he was waiting for you.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  He sighs. “He waited, then you started your business and you hadn’t made contact. He even knew from Su that you didn’t really like to talk about him. So he gave you time. When it got to a year he felt he had to let you go.” This still isn’t making sense.

  “Dane, please get to the point.”

  “Joe and Emily are together now.”

  Uh, I can’t breathe.

  “Callie?”

  Joe and Emily?

  “Callie, talk to me.”

  “Um … I …”

  “Shit, I’m sorry. He didn’t plan on getting with her, but they got close and it just kinda happened. There wasn’t anyone else for him the whole time. It really seemed like you’d started over again, like you made your choice.�
��

  “No, I … I get it. I understand. It’s a good thing, right? Their son deserves that they try, that’s what I would want if it was me. It’s good. Listen, I should go now.” He sighs heavy, and I know this wasn’t easy for him, which makes what I’m about to say harder. “Do something for me. Make me a promise.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell Joe we spoke.” My throat tightened around those words.

  “How can I not tell him? He still cares, he’d want to know.”

  “No, he doesn’t need to. Let him focus on his family, that’s what matters. Please, you know it’d be better this way.”

  He curses on a hard breath. “I can’t do that,” he says with finality.

  “Think about it, you know it makes sense. What good will telling him do? It’ll just stir shit up when it’s better left at that. He’s moved on now, and in some ways so have I. C’mon, please.”

  “Fuck! Why didn’t you call, Callie?”

  “I tried, I really did. Look, just do this one thing. It’s not for me I’m asking.”

  He makes me wait for his reply.

  “Okay. I don’t like it, but I think you might be right, no sense in messing things up. I’m only agreeing because there’s a kid involved, otherwise there’s no way in hell I wouldn’t say something. Understand that.”

  “Thank you, Dane.”

  I sit, immobile, staring at the blank screen of my cell. When I eventually unfreeze myself, I drop the phone on my bed and turn the radio on, to block out the outside world and avoid my aunt and uncle hearing me. I head into the bathroom and whack on the shower. After stripping naked, I step in under the hot spray and sob my fractured heart out.

  By the time I curl up in bed, I’ve cried like never before and I’m barely able to keep my eyes open. Crying is exhausting.

  I feel empty and lonely. And betrayed, though, I know I don’t have the right; Joe waited and I didn’t make contact. It’s my fault. My feelings are strangely, and painfully, split in two. On one side it seems only right that Joe and Emily create a complete family unit for their son. On the other side, I hate myself for leaving it so long. Now I have no choice; Joe’s someone else’s. It’s not even just someone else; she’s the mother of his child. I can’t compete with that.