Abandon All Hope

by M. J. Schiller

  They stopped to take it in. “It’s really spectacular, isn’t it?” she commented. Catching his sly sideways glance, she asked, “What?”

  He kissed her sweetly, then slowly bent down on one knee on the sidewalk. She heard someone gasp and out of the corner of her eye she could see people nudging each other, drawing others’ attention to them.

  “Hope,” Phillip began, “we have been together for two years now, on this very day.” She hadn’t even realized it was their anniversary. “And as far as I’m concerned, this is way overdue, but…” He cleared his throat. “Hope, honey, you make me so happy, and I was wondering”—he pulled a ring box out of an inner pocket of his coat to another round of gasps from the crowd—“would you do me the great honor of becoming my bride?”

  Her head was spinning. A marriage proposal? Phillip gazed up at her fondly, seeming sure of her decision and proud things had come off as he had planned them. The crowd held its breath. “Phillip, I love you—” Her statement was drowned out by the thunderous applause of those around them.

  Only Phillip seemed to realize no acceptance had been given. He looked stunned for a beat, and then got up and hugged her. Perhaps feeling loose from the champagne he had drunk earlier, he dipped her elaborately, and planted a huge kiss on her. The people applauded, and she felt like she had suddenly been thrust into some sort of “play in the park” performance. Phillip beamed at everyone and took her hand in a proprietary way. He led her through the ring of bystanders who were still cheering as he opened the car door for her and she got in.

  She sat stunned in the car, suddenly submerged in silence as the door closed off the crowd noise. She watched Phillip walk around the front of the sedan, and then wait for a break in traffic before sliding into his seat. His door slammed shut, and he stared straight ahead. Seconds ticked off and she noticed his jaw twitching. He turned to her, taking her hands.

  “I noticed you didn’t say yes.”

  “Phillip, I was just so surprised…”

  “And now that you’ve had a few minutes to think about my proposal, your answer is?”

  “Phillip, I love you…”

  “Yes. I heard that out there. What I didn’t hear was ‘yes’!” He didn’t bother to hide his anger now.

  “I…I…” She had never been so glad to hear a cell phone ring.

  “God damn it!” Phillip nearly tore the flip phone apart opening it. “Yes?” he growled. “Liz? Calm down! You what? Shit, Liz, how did you do that? Oh, all right. I’ll be right there.” He slammed the phone shut and started the engine, glancing into the side-view mirror for a break in traffic. “Liz thinks she may have erased our notes on her lap-top, the ditz!”

  “I thought there was no story.”

  “The boss gave us some stupid assignment in London while we were waiting to see if the Afghani borders were going to reopen or not,” he explained, speeding down the road. “This is great! This is just great!” he muttered.

  She wasn’t sure if he was still angry with her, or if Liz was now the subject of his rage. He didn’t say another word until they pulled up to the hotel. He shut off the engine, but when she moved to get out, he put a hand on her arm.

  “Listen, Hope. I’m sorry I kind of sprung this on you. But we’ve been going out for two years; I thought maybe the idea had crossed your mind.”

  In truth, it had. She made a list of all the reasons he would make a wonderful husband, and the other column didn’t have one detraction except for the big one…she didn’t love him, not in the way she was supposed to.

  “You take all the time you want. Just do me a favor, and wear the ring until you’ve decided, okay?”

  She nodded, stretching her neck to kiss him on the cheek. He smiled, satisfied for the moment.

  When he came to bed later, she pretended to be asleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Chase stared at the ceiling in the darkness, his arms folded behind his head. He flipped over roughly on his side, grabbing the pillow from the other side of the bed and punching it a couple of times before laying his head on it. All he could see was Hope in that hot dress, giggling, with Phillip’s arms around her waist. It made him want to punch something more solid than his pillow.

  But the more he thought about it, the more he realized what bothered him most was not the kiss, but the giggle, the smile on her face, the fact Phillip had made her happy, where all he seemed to do was make her cry.

  And why? What exactly had he done to make her react to him in this way? He went over that night for the gazillionth time in his head. One minute things were peachy, and they were dancing. She looked so pretty in that floral dress of hers…like a Hawaiian princess. There was a twisted scarf tied under her bosom in a tantalizing way. The ends hung loosely, taunting him as if to say, with one gentle tug, this could all come off, though he knew it was only a belt. Still, they floated behind her, whispering to him as they danced.

  He remembered how it was with her then, so easy. They were always having fun together, but if for some reason he had had a bad day, a hug from her could make it all go away. And he liked to be the one to comfort her, too, if she’d had a bad practice or was plagued by some memory of her father. And that night had been no exception. They joked and laughed, until he had to leave and talk to Susie McNamara.

  Susie had been upset because Chip Carter had gotten her pregnant and was now denying any responsibility. Not only was Susie frightened to death about being a single parent, she also loved that loser, for some reason, and was distraught over him turning his weasely back on her.

  Chase had to recall every detail of that evening so he could discover where things went wrong. He had told Hope he was going to talk to Susie, and she was fine with it, so that couldn’t be it. He talked to Susie for a long time, so long Susie had been worried Hope would get mad. He had assured her Hope would understand and she and the baby came first. Then, seeing how lost and alone she felt, he had reassured her he would help her through this. Then, she had kissed him. The kiss surprised him because it wasn’t a thanks-for-being-a-good-friend kind of kiss, it was more of an I’m-lonely-and-scared-and-I-want-to-do-you kind of kiss. He had pulled back and said firmly, “I need to go back to Hope now,” in a way, he hoped, made it clear he loved Hope, but didn’t make Susie feel too bad about having kissed him.

  Chase had walked away from the cafeteria shaking his head, feeling bad for Susie and half-hoping to run into Chip Carter so he could knock his block off. When he got back to the table, Hope’s soda was half-drunk, but she was nowhere to be seen. He sat down to wait for her, trying to let Susie’s problems fade into the background so he could enjoy the rest of the evening with Hope.

  After twenty minutes, he started to get worried about her. He left the gymnasium and ran into Kyle Stockwell, a basketball teammate, in the hall. “Hey, Kyle, have you seen Hope?”

  “Uh…” he replied nervously.

  “Dude, it’s pretty much a yes or no question.”

  “Y-yes,” he returned hesitantly, but offered no further information.

  “And that would have been”—he gestured widely—“where?”

  “Listen, man, I saw her in the parking lot, going at it hot and heavy with Chip Carter in the front seat of his pickup truck. Sorry.”

  “Y-you must have been mistaken,” he sputtered. “It must have been someone else,” he added with more confidence.

  “Didn’t she have on a white, crinkled-looking dress with flowers on it?”

  Chase paled. “Yes.”

  “Then it was her.”

  He rushed out to the parking lot, only to see Chip Carter’s red pickup truck speeding out onto the street. The next day, Hope and Chip were gone. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out they had left town together.

  He remembered his pain anew. All summer he had thought of her, wondering why. He had missed her company, missed her kiss, plagued by all of the wonderful memories they had made together. He would have gone after her, if he had known
where to go. If she had a cell phone, maybe they could have spoken and cleared the air, but she didn’t.

  When fall came, he wondered constantly if she had gone to journalism school like she had intended to. Finally, unable to handle his doubts anymore, he drove to her campus. Thankfully, when he saw the list of dorm names, he remembered which one she had gotten into. When he strode past Hope’s first floor room, he glanced in the window and saw her. She was sitting on the floor with a textbook open on her lap, and a guy was sitting on the bed she was leaning on, also studying, but at the same time, slowly stroking her arm. They seemed so cozy it had made him want to puke. She may have moved on from Chip Carter, but it was to someone else. He hopped in his truck and drove the long way back to Lincoln, planning to never make the trip again.

  While Chase was lost in his memories, he heard a rap on the door to the deck. Was the storm blowing something against the door? He got up to investigate. He opened the door just as a bolt of lightning lit the sky to find Hope standing, dripping, on his doorstep.

  * * *

  Chase threw his arm around Hope and ushered her in as the storm raged on outside. She sat, shivering, her pretty black dress plastered against her body like wet papier-mâché.

  “Geez, Hope! You’re a mess. Let’s get these wet things off.” He escorted her to the bathroom, glancing at the clock. What the hell was she doing knocking at his door at two o’clock in the morning?

  He didn’t care.

  In the bathroom, she froze in his arms. Slowly, he reached behind her to unzip her dress. She made no move to stop him, just stood like a zombie, looking utterly confused. He brought both hands to the side of her neck and waited for some reaction. Getting none, he pushed the dress off her shoulders and she shimmied a little, the dress falling to the floor with a wet plop. She stood in front of him in just a strapless bra, her panties, and thigh-high hose, still trembling. He put his hand under her chin and lifted it an inch, kissing her, but holding his desire in check.

  “You should get under some blankets.” She nodded mutely, like a child.

  He tucked her under the blankets and made a move to go sleep in the guest room.

  She held out a hand to restrain him. “No! Don’t leave!” It reminded him of the night she hurt her ankle in the cornfield. Her voice was desperate, and her eyes begged him to stay. Weakened by the need he saw in their depths, he relented, sliding in beside her. He lifted an arm, and she laid her head on his chest. He rubbed her side, afraid to break the silence, the magic, by asking her why she had come. All he knew was she had stepped out of his dreams and into his bed, and he didn’t want to ruin that.

  * * *

  In the morning, Chase snuck out to make breakfast. Minutes later he heard his bedroom door open, and Hope came carefully out, tiptoeing in an exaggerated way like a cartoon wolf sneaking up on his prey. She was wearing one of his t-shirts, nearly as long as a dress, adding to her odd appearance.

  “Is Hal up?” she whispered hoarsely when she saw him at the counter.

  He shook his head, amused.

  She tiptoed to the front door, pulling the hem of her t-shirt down. He wondered why she bothered, seeing as she had lain next to him last night wearing far less. She opened the front door and retrieved her bag from the stoop. She crept back in, closing the door quietly and heading back to the bedrooms, smiling first at him. He sat and observed her actions, contemplating what a mysterious thing a woman could be. He watched, interested in seeing whether she returned to his room. She, instead, entered the guest room she had used before.

  He continued to flip the scrambled eggs over, wondering if she and Phillip had a fight, or was Phillip simply waking up now to find her gone? In a few minutes she came back, wearing the black v-neck sweater and khaki green shorts the director had approved for their hiking scene. He came around the corner with two plates of eggs and bacon and toast.

  “Good morning,” he murmured, kissing her on top of the head. He set the plates on the table and they sat down side by side. She reached for her napkin and his hand came quickly down to grab her wrist. The diamond ring she wore on her finger sparkled brightly in the new morning sun. He looked up in shock and saw her staring at the ring as if, she, too, was wondering where it had come from.

  “Chase—” she started to say.

  “Good morning,” a particularly perky Hal announced.

  Chase released the hand he held, and Hope stuck it under her leg, still staring at him, an excuse poised on her lips. Chase turned from her coldly. “Good morning, Hal. Do you want some eggs? I just lost my appetite.” He swatted his napkin down on the table and pushed away, rising and going to his room.

  * * *

  From his room Chase could hear her cell phone ringing. He stormed out of his room and into hers. Finding it on her bedside table, he snatched it up and stepped over to yank the door to the deck open. “You have a phone call!” he barked. Dropping it into her hand, he noticed how red her finger was from where she had obviously been trying to get the ring off.

  He plopped down on the settee behind her. So that was the problem. She couldn’t get it off. Had she been able to, would he have ever known? Dammit! Why did you come here? his head screamed. She redialed the number of her missed call. Why did you leave his side in the middle of the night and hop into my bed? True, nothing happened between us, but it could have. Lord knows I wanted it to!

  “Hello.” She spoke into the phone but looked directly at him. “Yes, Phillip, I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep.” There was a long pause. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to alarm you. I’m going to stay here tonight. No, no. You and Liz will be working on your story anyway, and I have a lot of work to put in on mine. I’ll see you before The People’s Choice Awards. Yes, you, too.” She hung up.

  She looked at him earnestly. “Chase, please believe me, I haven’t given him an answer yet.”

  He jumped up and paced in front of the couch a couple of times. “You know what, Hope? You don’t owe me any explanations.” He threw his hands up and stormed away from her, stopping with a hand on the doorknob to his bedroom. “You can stay here tonight,” he said frostily, without turning to look at her, “but you’ll be staying in your own bed.” He left, slamming the door behind him.

  Chase entered his bathroom and saw the wet dress lying where they had left it on the tile floor. He grabbed it, ready to launch it into the tub, but he stopped in mid-motion. Instead, he tromped over to the tub and squeezed the excess water out of the dress, hanging it over the shower curtain rod and smoothing the folds of the fabric.

  He sighed, sitting on the side of the tub, steering clear of the dripping dress. Was she toying with Phillip and me? Could she really do that? He thought about the Hope he knew before prom, always forthright, truthful to a fault. She was the type who would make an extra trip back to the grocery store to tell them she hadn’t been charged for one of her gallons of milk. She was loyal to her friends and not free and easy with others’ feelings. Maybe she’s just confused. Maybe I should be patient like Hal said. He took a deep breath, and got ready for the shoot.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Chase and Hope were climbing in Los Flores Canyon, at the foot of Mt. Lowe, a camera crew several yards below them. The trail was much rougher and more rigorous than expected, but the physical workout was welcome, forcing them to put other thoughts on a back burner, at least while hiking. The weather had turned out to be the best so far of the season, seventy degrees with a light wind and the sun shining benevolently down on them through the trees.

  Hope was keeping up with Chase, despite her much shorter legs, her natural athleticism working to her advantage. In fact, in some areas she had less trouble than he did—her litheness and agility making her a mini-Spider-Woman. At times when she did struggle, though, he would reach down to lend a hand, each time having to push away the thoughts about the ring she wore on hers.

  At one point, he ran into a section of deceptively loose rock and sent a small avalanche down on her. She
ducked, but still received several blows to the head with fairly sizable rocks.

  “Hope!” he called, concerned. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she grimaced, running a free hand over her head to feel for injuries. “I thought it was bleeding. But I think it was the rush of blood to the spots where I was hit giving me the sensation of bleeding. “I’m fine.” She smiled up at him.

  He acknowledged the little cartwheel it gave his stomach, and then continued up the slope. He hadn’t gone much farther when the whole slab of rock he was on broke away and he slid down the steep grade rapidly.

  She must have heard his boots scraping against rock and debris falling as she looked up quickly. “Chase!” She scurried along the rock face, trying to angle over to intercept him. She reached out as he was sliding by, and together they were able to stop his descent.

  They sat breathing heavily for several minutes, hugging the cliff. “You know Hal is screaming at the director right now.” She panted. Hal had been fit-to-be-tied when he saw the terrain they were expected to traverse, questioning the director’s sanity, but they had assured him they could handle it. “By now he’s probably telling him he’ll never find work again if he kills off a rock icon.”

  He laughed, blowing dirt off the cliff face with each exhale. He closed his eyes, his face contorting for a minute.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, her worry evident.

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s just a side-stitch.” He raised his head and canvassed the territory ahead. “I think if we could just angle over and hit that little ledge over there, the rest would be a piece of cake.”

  She nodded her agreement.