by Anne Carol
This book is dedicated to all the young ladies out there with notebooks of writing stuffed under their beds. I hope you someday have the courage to share your beautiful creations with the world.
~ Anne
He’s more myself than I am.
Whatever our souls are made of,
His and mine are the same.
~ Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights
Los Angeles
2017
As I sit in my living room, relaxing with a cup of tea, I gaze over at the pictures hanging on the wall. My focus centers on two pictures placed next to each other: a portrait of my family taken two months ago on the beach, and the other, a grainy photograph of a seventeen-year-old me surrounded by the English countryside. I’ve come a long way since I was that seventeen-year-old girl—a girl full of hopes and dreams, who believed in the power of love to overcome anything. A part of me wishes I could climb into the picture and give the innocent, glassy-eyed girl a fair warning, but then I probably wouldn’t be sitting here today. You see, I still believe in that power, but the difference is I now understand none of it comes easy, that even the strongest love doesn’t create a fairy tale.
What follows is my story: a story of romance, tears, passion, perseverance, trust, and above all, unconditional love.
Garden Valley, California
1979
“I’m not going! Absolutely NOT!” I shouted, storming into my bedroom and slamming the door. I threw myself onto the bed and hid under the pillow.
“Elizabeth Anne Johnson, you come back here! You are not to slam the door!” my mom bellowed from the living room.
Okay, so maybe I was being a little dramatic, but how did they expect me to act after delivering news like that? Were they serious? I mean, how could they do this to me?
I was enjoying a quiet Wednesday evening when my parents, Mike and Sharon, made an announcement that would single-handedly ruin what I’d hoped to be my best summer yet. We were nearing the summer before my senior year, and I was looking forward to three solid months of typical teenage activity: trips to the mall, pool parties, and most importantly, spending time with my boyfriend, Rick McGuire.
Clearly, that wasn’t meant to be. Instead my parents decided to spend our summer in England with my aunt, uncle, and cousin—relatives I hardly knew or cared about. Dad, a college level English professor, was planning to take a few education courses at a small university in London. And while I could appreciate my parents’ need for a change of scenery, I had absolutely no desire to be away from home.
My mom tapped on my door, and before I could say anything, she came in and sat on my bed. “Look, I know this seems completely unfair to you, and I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. But I think it’ll be a wonderful experience for you. How many girls your age get the chance to live in England for a summer? And your cousin Jenny is the same age as you. You remember her from the last time we went?”
“Mom, I was only ten, but yeah, I guess I remember.” I sat up and faced her. “I’d rather spend the summer with my friends, though.” A hint of silver poking through her rich brown hair surprised me, as though it appeared just ten minutes ago.
“I know, and I understand your disappointment, believe me. Your father and I wrestled over this decision, knowing it wouldn’t be easy for you. But Beth, you’ll be off to college in a year, and we wanted the chance to spend some time with you.” She rested her hand on my arm in that motherly manner; she was great at making me feel guilty.
“So you’re whisking me off to England?”
“Yes, I suppose we are.” She rubbed my arm. “Come on, honey. I promise you’ll have fun.”
“What about Rachel? Won’t it bother her to be left behind?”
“Not when she’s four hundred miles away doing a summer internship.”
“Alongside her hot boyfriend,” I added.
Mom rolled her eyes. “Precisely.”
My twenty-two-year-old sister, who was about to graduate with a marine biology degree down in San Diego, was excited about working with her favorite water creatures all summer at a marine science center.
“Speaking of hot boyfriends, what about Rick? This is our first summer together, and now I won’t even be here. He’s not going to take this well.”
“And if he doesn’t, maybe he’s not the right person for you.”
My eyes grew wide. “Mom, how can you say that? I love him!”
“Maybe you do, but admit it, you haven’t been as happy with him these last few months. The insecurity, the frustration; I’ve seen it all over your face.”
“Okay, so maybe things haven’t been perfect, but I still want to be with him.” I wavered on the last phrase, causing my mom to raise an eyebrow at me.
“Are you sure about that?” She stood up, putting her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you think about it while you have some time alone? Remember, I’m always here for you.” She paused on her way out. “And while you’re busy thinking, why don’t you pick up your room a little?” She scanned the small space to make her point.
“Yeah, Mom, I know.”
My mom had a knack for knowing when to leave things alone rather than continuing to hound me. And when the topic was my boyfriend, she was definitely on delicate ground—though she was spot on about the recent state of our relationship. Rick had been pressuring me to sleep with him since the beginning of the year, and because I kept putting him off, it created a lot of tension between us.
As my feet hit the floor, I looked around my room and thought about how much I’d miss it over the summer. It was my sanctuary, however ruffled it was. I slipped a record onto the player and ran my fingers along the bookshelf directly below. I dreaded being away from my favorite records and little library all summer, but even more so, I dreaded being apart from Rick.
While putting my clothes away, the framed photo on the bedside table caught my eye. It was a picture of Rick and me taken last fall right after we became an item. We looked like the perfect couple: he in his football uniform, tall, blond, and good-looking, and me in my red and white cheerleading uniform, my long blond hair hugging my sweater. Two pairs of blue eyes stared up at me as I anxiously considered what would become of us over the long months.
Thursday morning my mind was stuck on repeat, trying to figure out how I was going to tell Rick about England. I was fishing my books out of my locker when Melissa, one of my best friends, interrupted my brooding.
“Hey, Beth. How’s it going?” she asked as she adjusted the clip in her long dark hair.
“Eh …” I closed my locker and leaned against it.
“That good, huh? What’s up?”
“Last night my parents told me we’re going to England this summer.”
“England? Wow. You don’t want to go?” She shut her locker with a quick slam.
“Not for the whole summer!” My voice echoed down the hall.
“You’re going to be there all summer? Why?”
“Oh, my dad’s brother lives there and we haven’t seen his family in a long time.” I went on to explain how my dad’s dad was English and had immigrated to California years ago to marry my grandma. She’d been on vacation with her parents in England when she met her future husband, who at the time was a literature professor at North London University. My uncle Ned continued the tradition by attending the same university as a student, where he met and married a local girl, only they ended up settling in London.
“I’m jealous! And I’m gonna miss you around here.” She frowned. “Have you told Rick?
My stomach clenched at the sound of his name.
Chewing on my thumbnail, I said, “Not yet.”
We stopped in front of my first period classroom, where she lightly squeezed my arm.
“He
y, don’t stress about it. It’s not like you have any control over your parents’ decision. And if Rick gets mad, that’s his problem.” She scowled.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I rested my hand on my stomach to calm the tremors.
“I hate leaving you like this …” She shot me a grim smile and waved before disappearing into the hallway traffic.
After a long day of anticipation, the end of seventh period finally arrived. I switched out my books and scurried over to Rick’s locker across the hall from mine. Crowds of students filed by as I paced back and forth, stopping when I saw a six-foot-two, hunky blond heading my way.
“Hey gorgeous, what’s up?” He flashed me a grin as he strolled over, brushed my hair back, and kissed my forehead. I drew in a deep breath and looked him in the eye.
“I need to tell you something.”
“You sound so serious. What is it, Bethy?” He put his books away and turned around to give me his full attention.
“It is serious, and you’re not going to like it.”
He hesitated for a moment. “Try me.”
I took in another deep breath and surveyed the floor.
“My parents are taking me to England this summer to visit our relatives.”
“Oh. When?”
“Um, all summer.” I winced.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“No.” I snuck a peak at his expression, just in time to see him slam the locker with his fist, startling me and several other students nearby.
“Calm down, Rick.” I touched his arm gently.
“God, your parents hate me!” he shouted, jerking his arm out of my grasp.
I stood there, heart pounding and helpless as to what to say.
“I need to get to the shop. My dad’s expecting me.” He gathered his books in a huff and stalked off, leaving me alone to obsess over the state of our relationship. It was starting to be a habit with him—not a good one.
With a lump in my throat, my eyes followed Rick’s sulking figure down the hallway. When I reached up to close his locker, I saw my picture taped to the inside. It was a photo he’d taken this past spring when he was trying out a new camera for his parents, who owned a camera shop.
Seeing my image posted inside his locker eased my mind a little, but that evening he didn’t call. Not that he called every day—life got too busy sometimes—but his not calling after what’d happened that afternoon left me tormented. I couldn’t stop thinking about the inevitable rejection and how it would impact the rest of the school year.
I arrived to school tired and grumpy the next day. It didn’t help my mood to see Rick flirting with a cute brunette down the hall.
I nodded in his direction. “Sure didn’t waste any time, did he?” I said to Melissa, who’d been properly filled in on Rick’s explosive reaction.
She glared at him with cat eyes. “After that asshole got in your face yesterday, I’d put nothing past him,” she said, pulling my arm. “Come on, let’s get to class.”
Walking down the hall, the sound of Rick’s voice calling my name made me cringe, and I strode forward, causing Melissa to raise her eyebrows at me.
“Beth! Come back here!” I could hear both confusion and desperation in his fading voice as I ducked into the ladies’ room. Melissa followed close on my heels.
“I can’t deal with him right now.” I leaned against the wall and held my jumpy stomach, praying I wouldn’t lose what little breakfast I’d eaten. Glancing toward the exit, I twisted my hair around my finger. Wonder what he wants.
“Beth, we’re going to be late. Come on, let’s go.” Melissa urged, summoning me. That girl prided herself on never being tardy.
I nodded toward the door. “You go ahead. I’ll make a run for it in a minute. I don’t want to see him.”
“Alright. We can talk at lunch.”
“Sure. Thanks, Missy.”
My stomach was a jumble of nerves all through first period, which made the hour a total loss for learning. By the end of the period, I was ready to go home and bury myself in a good book.
Exiting the classroom, I felt someone grab my arm, making me gasp. I looked up to find Rick’s stern face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
I ducked my head down as my classmates brushed past us on either side.
“Beth, why did you walk away from me earlier? I know you heard me.”
Caught off guard, I blurted out, “Uh, I had to go to the ladies’ room. What’d you need?” I tried to sound casual, even though my pulse was racing.
“I wanted to apologize for yesterday.” His eyes were soft and piercing at the same time. “I was a total jerk. Can you forgive me?” He stroked my jawline while unveiling his best I-blew-it expression.
“You’re … apologizing?” I stuttered.
“Yeah, so what do you say? Am I forgiven?” His lips turned up in a half-smile.
“Of course,” I said, yielding to the power of his steely blue eyes yet again.
He smoothed down my hair. “Let’s have lunch together, alright?”
“Definitely.” I let out a huge breath and reached up to kiss him.
Though giddy with relief, I was reluctant to tell Melissa about my changed lunch plans, because I knew what her reaction would be.
And when I caught her in the hallway before lunch, she definitely wasn’t jazzed about my forgiving attitude toward Rick.
“Why do you put up with his garbage?” she demanded.
“I love him?” I don’t know why I said it like a question. “I think I’m being overly sensitive. He’s not trying to hurt me.”
“Beth, he’s a controlling, self-absorbed asshole and one day you’ll wake up. I’m going to go find Susie.” She strutted off to meet up with the third member of our triad. I told myself Melissa was dead wrong about Rick; she didn’t know him like I did. Yet I still worried her perceptions were correct and that my wake-up call might be coming soon.
But from that day on, things looked up between me and Rick and it seemed Melissa was wrong. He did all the right things: hardly left my side at school, took me out every weekend, and didn’t start petty arguments. His improved attitude made the rest of the school year more tolerable, which cheered me up as our late-June departure drew near.
On the Saturday before we left for England—a week and a half into summer break—Rick and I had plans to go to dinner and then back to his house to watch a movie. I spent all afternoon getting ready, which wasn’t my usual style, but I wanted to look perfect for our last date until August. Carefully choosing my clothes, I decided to wear my favorite coral skirt and white eyelet blouse, along with heeled sandals.
He came to the door looking like a god with his charming smile, sparkling eyes, and perfectly coiffed hair. Dressed in Levi’s and a light blue pullover shirt, he could’ve been mistaken for a male model.
I smiled up at him. “Hey there, handsome. You look amazing.” Memories came back to me of our first date after we became steady, and I was truly optimistic about the future of our relationship.
“Thanks, and you’re beautiful, as always.” His lips touched my forehead with a sweet kiss.
After having a cozy dinner at Rosie’s, a nice restaurant overlooking the river, I held his hand as we drove away. Then I noticed we were heading the opposite direction from his house.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Just for a little drive,” he answered with a wry grin. “I want to be alone with you on our last night, is that okay?”
I paused for a moment.
“Sure,” I said, even though I had a bad feeling about this.
He pulled the car off the lonely road and drove to the edge of the river. The view was breathtaking with the moonlight reflecting off the water. It was the ideal spot for a couple to sit in a car and …
As if on cue, Rick draped his arm behind my shoulder and moved in for a kiss. Honestly, he smelled so insatiable, and his hair was so soft in my fingers that I lost myself in him an
d let him kiss me without restraint. Knowing I had to enjoy this moment to make up for the months we’d be apart, I passionately kissed back, moving my tongue against his.
Before long he was on top of me on the passenger seat. His arousal pressing into my thigh was a little much for me, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t felt it before. It was when he yanked my skirt up that I freaked out.
“Stop it, Rick,” I said, trying to push the skirt back down, but he held my arms at my side.
He was hovering over me, his blue eyes glowing like he was possessed. “Come on, Bethy. After I’ve treated you like a queen all month, you can’t give me this one thing?”
When he let go to unzip his pants, I tried bucking him off me, but my small frame only squirmed under his solid build. “I said, STOP!”
He abruptly sat up, his checked boxers peeking through his gaping fly. I quickly looked away, shoved my skirt down, and scrambled out of the car.
“Beth …” he said, throwing the driver’s side door open. I heard him zip his pants as he walked to my side of the car. “Beth, I’m sorry, but come on, you’ve been teasing me for eight months!”
He tried to come near me, but I pushed my hands out and backed away. “Don’t touch me!”
“I’m sorry, okay? I got carried away.”
“Carried away? I thought you were going to rape me, for God’s sake!” I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice.
“Rape?” he said incredulously. “Are you kidding me? You know I’d never do that!”
Seething, I turned my back to him and stood silent, not sure what to do.
“Let’s just get back in the car and go to my house,” he said, sounding irritated.
I clenched my teeth. “No, take me home. You disgust me.”
He let out a short breath. “Fine, if that’s how you want it!”
It was the longest car ride ever, as I tried holding myself together in the tension-filled space. My face remained hidden from his, and my body was so stiff you could’ve bounced a ball off of it. The car moved at lightning speed, and I gripped the seat in fear. Great, he’s trying to kill me now. For the first time, I was grateful my parents roped me into the London trip.