Hope Falls_Giving a Little

by Frances Elliot

  “Okay. Emma fell asleep in the car so I came in quietly. And I had to run upstairs for a while.”

  “Sit down, join us. We’re just reminiscing a bit.”

  “I can’t. I have to go back. And I have to leave like, half an hour ago.” Suddenly Emily thought she might burst into tears. “Where’s Dad? He has to drive me to Sacramento so I can make a flight to catch the red eye out of SFO.”

  “What?” Her mother looked flabbergasted. “Your father ran out to the hardware store.”

  “I’ll drive,” said Joe. “Are you packed?”

  “I need a couple minutes. I’ll be right back,” she said, and ran out of the room.

  Upstairs, she did cry as she tossed things into her suitcase and changed her clothes. A voice was telling her to slow down, miss the flight, call the station back… But when it came right down to it, she didn’t want to leave them in the lurch – it just felt too disloyal. And, she reminded herself, you’re leaving tomorrow anyway, what’s the difference? Go back, take advantage of the chance to get noticed, wow them with your always-on-call, ever ready attitude.

  Joe, his coat on, was waiting at the foot of the stairs. He came halfway up to take the suitcase, said “See you outside,” and left.

  Her mom walked in with her arms open. “Oh, honey. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye yet,” she said, embracing her.

  As the warm familiar arms encircled her, Emily broke down. “Oh, Momma, I wasn’t ready either. I don’t want to leave yet,” she sobbed.

  Emily felt her mom’s hand at the back of her head, smoothing her hair. “There, there,” said her mom. “You’ll be back in a few weeks. Here, take this.”

  She was holding out one of her always-available handkerchiefs – Emily believed she had the ability to materialize them from thin air. As she dabbed her eyes and loudly blew her nose, she noticed the old-fashioned pearl brooch pinned to her mom’s dress. “That’s pretty,” she said, pointing with a shaky finger. She blew her nose again.

  Touching it, her mom said, “It was Marguerite’s. Joe gave it to me this afternoon.”

  “Ah,” was all Emily could think to say. She gave her mom another brief hug. “I’ll call you from the airport and explain everything. Will you say…” She began to cry again.

  “I’ll say good-bye to everyone, don’t worry. I don’t think we should wake Emma, do you?”

  Emily shook her head. “No, she’ll just start crying, too. Well, good-bye, Momma. I’ll see you soon. Good-bye, George, I’ll miss you, too.” She took the time to go over and pat the dog’s head. “Be a good boy and I’ll bring you something nice for Christmas.”

  At the door, her mom gave her one last hug and Emily had trouble letting go. Quickly, she turned and stepped out into the cold air. Joe leaned over from the driver’s seat to open the passenger door. “Come on, Snuffles, shake a leg.”

  As Emily slid in, still clutching the sodden hankie, she took one last look at the house. Her mother stood at the living room window, waving; Emily waved back and the car pulled away.

  They rode quite a way in silence, except for Emily’s occasional sniffs. It was almost dark and they passed several homes already decorated with twinkling Christmas lights; lopsided snowmen stood guard on a couple of lawns; there was very little traffic.

  “Yeah,” said Joe quietly. “Place kind of gets its hooks into you, doesn’t it?”

  Emily sighed. “Sure does.”

  Silence fell again – not entirely comfortable, but not strained, either. Somewhere in between, thought Emily. “Hey, you know where you’re going, right?” she asked.

  To her surprise, Joe gave a short bark of laughter. “If you mean the airport, yes.” After a minute he added, “If you mean in general, absolutely not. Not a clue.”

  They merged onto the highway and Joe seemed to settle in for the ride. After a few miles he said, “Know what I’m coming up on? The halfway mark. Half my life here, half my life…elsewhere.”

  Emily didn’t respond – he seemed to be thinking aloud, not really asking for comment. “I went home today.”

  “My mom told me.”

  “It was funny, not bad at all…because it seemed like the boy who lived there was somebody else. Somebody I sort of remember from around town, or school, but not like he was a good friend or anything. Just a guy I used to know.”

  Emily thought that over for a while. “The thing is, everybody feels that way, I think. Although probably not like you – not so completely separated from the person they used to be.” She paused, then said, “That wasn’t too clear. I can’t quite…”

  “No, I know what you meant.”

  After a mile or so Emily said, “Do you like him? When you think about that boy you sorta remember, do you like him?”

  She saw him start to smile. “Oh, yeah, he was an okay kid I suppose. Real Eagle Scout type, very honest, always tried to do the right thing. Probably tried a little too hard, now that I think about it.”

  Emily kept quiet until he went on. “You know what was wrong with that kid?”

  “He didn’t appreciate how lucky he was,” she said softly and turned her head to the window. She was aware of Joe’s sharp glance in her direction, but he didn’t speak. “I said that because that’s how I feel at the moment,” she added.

  “Well, it’s exactly what I was going to say.” He paused, changed lanes, sped up a bit and went on. “But at least you’ve learned that lesson in time. You’ve still got a chance to change things.”

  “What do you mean? What do you think I should change?”

  Joe concentrated on driving for a while. “Oh, I don’t know. You’re a little hard on your family sometimes, don’t you think?”

  Emily was surprised. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, your sister, your cousins. They’re pretty good people – it just seems like maybe you focus on the negative stuff too much.”

  As his words sank in, she realized he was absolutely right, and began to feel uncomfortable, then annoyed. She tried to shrug her coat off her shoulders, cracked her window, re-crossed her legs. Really not the best timing, she thought – he knew she’d been crying, knew she was upset about leaving. Why didn’t he see how vulnerable she was right now? With a slight edge in her voice, she said, “I see what you mean. But then, you don’t really know us all that well, do you?”

  He didn’t respond and Emily instantly regretted the comment. Her irritation gone, she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “No, no, you’re absolutely right,” he said. “None of my business. I’m the one who should say I’m sorry.” He was trying to sound off-hand, but Emily could hear the hurt in his voice.

  “Joe, honestly, I—”

  “Forget it,” he said.

  For a long time they rode along without speaking, the car intermittently lit by the glare of the overhead lights. Darkness, flash of light, darkness again. Emily searched desperately for something to say, some way to ease the tension, but her mind was blank.

  When he finally broke the silence, Emily was startled. “I just don’t like to think you’d wind up like me. We really are a lot alike in some ways.”

  “How? I don’t know if I understand,” she said.

  “Oh, you know, perfect little over-achievers, taking the back-up team at home for granted, ignoring how much you depend on them.”

  That stung – again, he was right, but she didn’t like hearing it. And Emily suspected he had hurt her on purpose. “I think you’re mostly talking about yourself,” she said rather airily. “I mean, you—”

  “Oh, right. I keep forgetting I really don’t know you all that well.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.” It was exactly what she’d been going to say.

  “Fine. I just thought I’d mention it, because again, you really don’t ever want to feel the way I do.”

  Emily opened her mouth, closed it again, and took a deep breath. Joe went on, his voice now bitter, sneering. “What an idiot I was, t
hinking everything would always go just the way I wanted. Always had in the past, right? No bumps in the road for me, the golden boy. Clear sailing all the way, straight into the future of my dreams.”

  Emily was shocked by his tone; she spoke without thinking. “Yeah, wow, what was wrong with you? Really should have seen it coming. Ever occur to you that what happened to you was a little unusual? Good god, maybe you ought to cut yourself some slack.”

  “Trust me. I cut myself plenty of slack,” he said, his voice ice cold.

  “Doesn’t seem that way to me. Seems like you enjoy being hard on yourself. Maybe you ought to try to focus on the fact that nothing that happened was your fault.”

  “Oh, you know, fuck you. If I want a little unintelligent analysis from someone who knows nothing about me, I’ll talk to a bartender.”

  “That’s a great plan. Are there any bartenders left who know nothing about you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean I bet you spend a lot of time sitting around nursing drinks, looking miserable, collecting sympathetic looks.”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m pretty cheerful in bars – you pick up more women that way.”

  “That so? Funny, I would have thought the ‘I need a shoulder to cry on’ routine would knock ‘em dead.”

  “Guess I do pretty well, either way.”

  “Well goody for you.”

  The airport exit sign loomed ahead; Joe put his blinker on and said, “I don’t know where the fuck all this is coming from. Up to now, I don’t recall you being very interested in my feelings, one way or the other.”

  “Oh, what a stupid thing to say. You weren’t interested in my feelings, either. Come to think of it, I don’t know what the hell you were interested in. Just the only thing available, I suppose.”

  “Exactly. I took this loathsome trip that I’ve avoided for years on the wild chance I might pick up a stray piece of ass.”

  “Guess things worked out for you then. Glad to be of service.”

  He pulled onto the exit ramp too fast and had to brake hard. Emily’s seatbelt tightened sharply around her; she jerked at it angrily, heaved a loud sigh and jabbed at the window button, flooding the car with cold air. “Put it back up,” Joe said without inflection.

  “Oh, shut up, we’re about a mile away,” she said sullenly. She stared towards the lights of the airport just ahead, aware she was behaving like a child but not caring.

  Joe didn’t argue. As they reached the turnoff from the access road, he said gruffly, “How are we for time?”

  Emily looked at the dash clock and said, “Fine,” her voice flat. She glanced at him, saw his clenched jaw and his white knuckles on the steering wheel.

  He sped up again, made a hard right into a lot labeled “Passenger Pick-Up Waiting,” swung angrily into a spot and jammed on the brakes. “Get out of the car,” he ordered.

  Leaving the car running, he got out, strode around and yanked her door open before she had a chance to collect herself. With one hand, he pulled her out, then wrapped his arms around her, roughly pulled her to him and kissed her. For a second or two she struggled, then relaxed, melting into his arms. “Oh, Joe,” she said, and felt her eyes fill with tears.

  He moved his strong hands to the sides of her head, cradling it gently. He kissed her again and pulled away just enough to look deeply into her eyes. His thumb brushed lightly across her cheek, wiping away a tear. “You know why we’re fighting, don’t you?”

  Emily nodded slowly. “We’re scared,” she said softly.

  He kissed her again, gently this time, only lightly touching her tongue with his. “We don’t know what can happen next,” he said without moving his lips away.

  “We got involved even though we said we wouldn’t,” she said.

  Emily felt one of his hands slide down and under her coat to circle her waist; the other slid through her hair to the back of her head. “Ah, but mostly…” He was kissing her cheeks, her chin, her lips again. “Mostly we don’t want to say good-bye,” he whispered.

  Another tear slid down her cheek and he touched it with his lips. “I think we have to get back in the car,” he said, but didn’t loosen his grip on her. “I’m going to need some help letting go of you.”

  “Don’t expect it from me,” she replied and hugged him more tightly.

  They kissed again, and now it was intense but bittersweet, tinged with unfulfilled longing. At last he released her and without a word, went back around the car. Emily sat down, her mind racing.

  As they drove up to the terminal, she realized there was no point in missing the flight, going home again. Whatever this was between them, it wasn’t something they were going to settle overnight, surrounded by her family.

  The car coasted to a stop and Joe sat quietly for a moment, staring through the windshield. Then he spoke. “This has to wait. We don’t have the time or the place to figure it out. I can’t see…I don’t know how…”

  Emily was nodding. Joe got out of the car, came around and hauled her suitcase from the back seat, opened her door. She got out and they stood silently on the sidewalk, gazing at each other. People around them thunked luggage out of cars, called good-byes, patted their pockets or checked their purses for boarding passes.

  A police car glided to a stop beside them and the window hissed down. “Loading and unloading only. Kiss her good-bye and get moving, please.”

  Joe smiled. “I always follow orders from the cops,” he said, and kissed her.

  Still, he didn’t move away and the police car gave an abbreviated whoop of the siren. They both jumped. Emily took the handle of her suitcase and said, “I wish I could think of something to—”

  The cop gave the siren another quick whoop; Joe kissed her again, deeply enough this time to make her slightly dizzy, then broke the kiss and walked around the car. He opened the door, gave her a short wave; Emily waved back and turned towards the terminal.

  She’d almost reached the doors when he called out. “Emily, wait. I forgot something.”

  She spun around. He was leaning on the roof of the car, grinning broadly. “See you at Christmas,” he called, then got in the car and pulled away from the curb.

  Emily watched the taillights disappear, smiling. “See you at Christmas,” she said under her breath, and went in to catch her flight.