by Anne Carol
When Rick zoomed up to my house, I flew out of the car and up to the front door, not bothering to look back. He raced off, tires screeching, without waiting to see that I got inside okay.
I ran to my room and slammed the door, which of course brought my mom around, asking, “Beth, what happened? Are you okay?”
Not wanting “Frantic Mom” to appear, I opened the door and said, “Nothing happened, but I hate my life! Hate it!” I cried, before collapsing on my bed and punching the pillow.
“Oh, honey. How about I draw you a bath?”
“Yes, please.” I couldn’t wait to get rid of Rick’s heavy cologne smell, not to mention I felt dirty after what he did to me. He’d never been that aggressive before, and it scared me so much I wasn’t sure we could ever return to normal.
In spite of the soothing bath, I tossed and turned all night and spent the next morning under a cloud of hopelessness. Church helped improve my mood a little, but unfortunately my mood soured when we arrived home. Rick was sitting on the front steps, holding his head in his hands.
My parents politely greeted Rick as they brushed past him on their way inside. Mom shut the door, allowing us privacy.
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” he said. I’d never seen him like this; his dreary eyes gave him away—he’d been crying, and I was secretly glad.
“That makes two of us,” I stated coldly, crossing my arms over my chest.
He slowly rose to his feet. “Can we … take a walk?” he asked with pleading eyes.
I hesitated, twisting my hair around my finger as he watched me.
“Okay, let me put my purse down.”
Moments later as we started walking, he smiled and gave me a once-over. “You look really pretty in that dress,” he said in his charming voice.
His flattery was unexpected, infuriating me.
I snapped, “Yeah, and I’d like to keep it on, if you don’t mind.”
His jaw dropped and he sighed. “I deserved that, I guess.”
“I couldn’t believe you last night,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
He tilted his head downward. “I know. I wish I could go back and have a do-over.”
“Me, too.”
“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Bethy. The last thing I want is for you to go away mad at me.” When he looked up, I noticed tears in his eyes. It softened my bitterness, yet I resolved that this time I’d be strong and not let him win me over again.
“And I don’t want to be mad, but I’m tired of you not respecting me. You know I’m not ready to go all the way, yet you continue to push me. Last night was the worst. You scared me.”
His eyes widened. “Beth, I … I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I looked back at my house. “I need to get going. I have a lot to do.” Things were too awkward, and I was anxious to get on with the goodbyes.
When we got back to the porch, Rick gently took my face in his hands. “I’m sorry for not respecting you. I love you, Beth. I’m not losing you.” He tenderly kissed me, clearly holding back. I returned the kiss, but the wall I’d put up the night before kept me from feeling anything but resentment.
“I love you, too.” My voice cracked and I wiped away a single tear. “Have a good summer, Rick.”
He smiled, though his eyes were misty. “And you have a great time in England.”
We hugged and kissed one last time before he walked away and out of my life for the next two months.
“There he is!” Dad pointed in the distance.
After the long flight to London, the sight of my dad’s older brother at the international arrivals terminal was a great relief. Tall, with an average build and dark graying hair, I was amazed at how much Uncle Ned resembled my father. They even shared the same crooked nose.
We took care of all the how-do-you-do’s, grabbed our luggage, and trekked out to the parking lot. I got my first taste of culture shock as Uncle Ned sat behind the wheel on the right side of the car, then proceeded to drive on the left side of the road. He was perfectly at ease, of course, since London had been his home for over twenty-five years.
To pass the time, I took in the scenery along the way. The landscape seemed crisp and green compared to the brown terrain of Central California. On the other hand, the overcast sky jogged my memory of the last time I was here, when I whined about the lack of sun. It was just my luck that the climate of this place matched my mood: dreary and gray.
Though I slept some on the plane, I was exhausted, so I dozed off after a while. When I woke up we were parked in front of Uncle Ned and Aunt Ellie’s brick Victorian house in a North London suburb. The homes on this quiet residential street were attached and each had steps up to the front doors, with iron gates and low brick walls bordering the sidewalk. I admired the old architecture; the houses were so different from the one-story ranch dwellings of my neighborhood.
As we piled out of the car and into the brisk morning air, Aunt Ellie appeared on the small porch at the top of the stairs, followed by my cousin Jenny. They wore the biggest smiles; it was obvious they’d looked forward to our arrival. On the way up to the house with my luggage, I paused to admire the potted flowers in the garden, allowing the others to go ahead of me. But then Jenny’s eager voice redirected my focus.
“Are you coming, Beth? Can I help?”
“No, I’ve got it, thanks,” I said, climbing the few steps to greet her. To my surprise, she gave me a quick hug and took one of my bags as we headed inside, where I detected the smell of buttered toast.
Aunt Ellie was now tucked into the kitchen to the left of the entryway, preparing breakfast. Her embroidered apron swallowed her thin build, her light brown hair swept into a bun. She lit up when she saw me and waved me in.
After I greeted Aunt Ellie with a hug, Jenny took me to her second-story bedroom, which she and I’d be sharing during our stay. Meanwhile, my parents hauled their bags to the room previously occupied by Sophie, Jenny’s newlywed sister.
“I hope you’re alright sharing with me. I assume you have your own room at home?” Jenny asked as I surveyed the modest-sized room, which barely fit two twin beds. The walls were plain, except for a few pictures of the seaside, a concert poster of a band I’d never heard of, and a bare-bones calendar.
I set my suitcase on the wood floor. “Yeah, but I don’t mind sharing.”
I already had a sense that I’d get along with Jenny, even though I hadn’t seen her in seven years. The last time I saw her she was a scrawny little thing who wore her ash-blond hair in two long braids. In place of those childish braids, her shoulder-length hair now hung loose.
“Good, because I’m glad to have you here. Why don’t you get sorted and then come downstairs for breakfast, alright?” she said.
“Okay, thanks,” I said, relieved when she left the room. Not that I didn’t want to talk to her, but I was exhausted by all the hustle and bustle of the morning, as well as the long flight. After unpacking a few things, my bed looked too tempting, so I crashed for what was supposed to be a few minutes.
“She must have gone for a lie-down,” I heard someone say as I slowly opened my eyes. My mind was in a fog, and I forgot where I was. When I peeked at the alarm clock on the side table, I popped up. 11:30?
“Beth, you’re awake! You must have been knackered!” Jenny exclaimed. “Are you ready to eat something?”
I forced myself out of bed. “Uh, sure, I’m a bit hungry.” Knackered? “What does ‘knackered’ mean?”
“Oh, sorry. I meant to say you were quite tired,” she clarified.
I followed Jenny’s wispy figure downstairs to the stark white galley kitchen, which opened up to a traditional family room where a beige couch and console TV were situated. As I absorbed my new surroundings, I found the décor to be homey, yet simple and uncluttered.
Something smelled delicious, and embarrassingly, my stomach started growling. Jenny giggled. “More than a bit peckish, I’d say!”
I timidly smiled at her.
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sp; The six of us ate lunch around the kitchen table as we went over plans for the week. My dad’s university courses weren’t starting until the following week, so he and Uncle Ned planned to do some brotherly stuff, like attending sporting events and visiting relatives in the area.
Uncle Ned was able to take some time off of his job as an attorney, but Jenny and Aunt Ellie, a schoolteacher, had to return to class the next day. Here in England, the academic year ran through the third week of July. That left my mom and me to do some sightseeing on our own, and I knew what that meant: hunting down the local library for my part-time librarian mother.
Jenny gave me an apologetic look. “We’ll roam the shops Friday after school, if you’re keen on that. There’s a nice selection a few blocks away.”
I smiled. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.” My cousin definitely understood me, which made the summer look promising. By the end of lunch, I felt more relaxed about being here. Jenny, Uncle Ned, and Aunt Ellie seemed easy to get along with, and there was no reason to insult them with my negative attitude.
The rest of the day was low-key: unpacking, watching the “telly,” journaling, and reading. Around four o’clock, I was on the sofa when Jenny appeared from the kitchen, holding a tea kettle.
“How do you take your tea?” she asked, as if I drank loads of it.
“Uh, I don’t.” I grimaced. “I’m actually a coffee drinker.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll have to see what we have …” She looked toward the kitchen.
“No, no. It’s okay.” I waved my hand as I tried to backtrack. “I’ll take it however you do.”
“Lovely. Come into the kitchen, then. We have biscuits as well.”
The “biscuits” were actually sugar cookies, and I learned that Jenny and her mother took their tea with a spot of milk and touch of sugar. It wasn’t half bad, but I wasn’t about to give up my morning coffee quite yet.
The tea break held us over until supper, which was a delicious feast of shepherd’s pie. Whoever came up with the idea of cooking a layer of buttery mashed potatoes over savory ground meat was a genius. I must’ve been craving a hearty meal, because I had two helpings. Meanwhile, over the course of dinner, I found myself taking pleasure in getting reacquainted with my English family. Uncle Ned had a great sense of humor, Aunt Ellie was no-nonsense, yet hospitable, and Jenny was—as I’d already seen—eager and friendly.
As I was getting ready for bed, I contemplated giving Rick a call, figuring with the eight-hour time difference it was still daytime in California. But considering what a good day I had, I decided to shelve the idea. No need to wind up my emotions.
I was hugging the covers around me when Jenny glanced over and saw the photo of Rick and me on the side table.
“Is that your fellow?” she asked as she slipped into bed.
I yawned, staring blankly at the picture. “Yep, that’s my boyfriend, Rick.”
“Oh, he’s delicious. You’ll have to tell me all about him, tomorrow of course.”
“I will. Good night, Jenny.” I turned off the lamp and closed my eyes, worn out from the long day.
“Good night, Beth.”
“Feels like I’m taking a ride into the center of the earth!” I said, eyeing the lengthy escalator. I clutched the handrail as it carried us down to the train platform. Mom and I had walked a few blocks up to the nearest Tube station, passing uniformed schoolchildren and businessmen along the way. The Tube was London’s answer to the underground train, and the crowd of people moving through the turnstiles proved it was a popular way to travel.
We stood on the cement platform until we saw headlights and felt a swoosh as the train pulled in. Squeezing our way onto a train bound for Baker Street, I quickly grabbed the metal bar above me, accidentally elbowing a woman.
“Sorry!” we both said, swiftly avoiding eye contact. I thought it was weird that she apologized when it was clearly my faux pas. This was definitely not California.
Later that evening, after Mom and I spent the day touring museums and checking out a library, our whole family walked up to the local pub for curry night. I found it liberating not being tied down to a car, like we were in Garden Valley. Walking to dinner in my hometown was practically unheard of.
Just before entering the neighborhood eatery, I smoothed down my hair since the cool humidity fluffed it up more than I cared for. My appearance was soon forgotten, though, in favor of my rumbling stomach, which was called to attention by the exotic smell of Indian spices. We glanced over the menu behind the bar and put in our orders.
Situating our group at a large wooden table in back, we started going over the events of the day. Uncle Ned was in the middle of telling a story about a great-aunt when the meals were finally delivered.
“Oh, this smells good!” I said, picking up my fork.
I dove into my chicken curry, but stopped halfway when I felt someone watching me. Looking across the room, I noticed a pair of deep chestnut eyes fixated on me. A tiny gasp escaped, and I quickly looked away.
“What’s wrong, Beth?” Jenny whispered.
“There’s a guy over there staring at me,” I said, feeling my mouth dry up. “Is there something on my face?”
She laughed quietly. “No, you’re fine. I imagine he’s staring at you because you’re pretty.”
Embarrassed now, I said, “Oh, stop.”
I tried to ignore him, but then Jenny pointed her head in his direction. “Are you talking about that bloke with the brown hair?”
Peeking over at him, I nodded.
“I know him. He goes to my school. His name is David … mmm … Somers, I believe,” she said, checking out the cutie dressed in a crisp collared shirt and black pants.
“Oh, David?” Aunt Ellie perked up and turned in her chair to spot him. “I had him as a pupil several years back. Nice boy, good family.”
Jenny raised her eyebrows at me. “Would you like me to introduce you? He seems smitten.”
“No!” I whispered, looking down at my rice.
“Too late, he’s coming this way.”
I nearly choked. I didn’t know why I was such a mess. He was just a good-looking guy, but no, there was something about his stare that was so … hypnotic. Nobody had ever looked at me like that before. My heart fluttered as I watched him approach Aunt Ellie, who practically fell over herself greeting him.
“David! What a lovely surprise.”
“Hello, Mrs. Johnson,” he said in a smooth accented voice, which unexpectedly sent my pulse racing. “I won’t keep you. I just thought I’d pop over and say hi.” He swept a long section of his hair off his forehead and buried both hands in his front pockets.
“Oh, well I’m happy you did. Now you can meet my family.” She proceeded to first introduce Uncle Ned and Jenny, and then moved on to my parents. I wondered if she purposely saved me for last.
“And this is Jenny’s cousin, Beth.”
“Hello, Beth,” he said with a sheepish grin as his hands remained stuffed in his pockets.
Something possessed me to reach my hand out to him. “Hi, David. Nice to meet you.”
Appearing caught off guard by my gesture, he withdrew his hand and gently shook mine, creating a surge of electricity which traveled up my arm and all through my body. As I pulled away, our eyes met briefly, but long enough for me to know there was something special about David. Suddenly I wanted to know more about him. And I knew he felt the attraction, too, because he could hardly take his eyes off me as he returned to his table.
There was an awkward silence after he left; my family clearly picked up on the spark in the air which now spanned the room. I wondered what my folks were thinking, but of course nobody said anything. After a minute or so, the conversation picked up again, much to my relief. Only Jenny chose to recognize the obvious.
“He likes you,” she whispered.
I shook my head, facing downward as I felt my cheeks heat up.
“Feeling alright, dear? You look flushed,” Mom observed.
>
“Perfectly fine, Mom,” I said quickly, wanting the attention off me.
Yet I still had the full attention of one David Somers, who gazed at me on and off throughout the meal. It was difficult not to stare back, and a few times we even exchanged shy smiles. I tried to be discrete, so as to appear I was still a part of our family discussion. Jenny noticed my preoccupation, though, and I had a feeling we’d be talking about David later that night.
As it happened, I was the one who brought him up.
“So tell me about him,” I asked as I sat on my bed, watching Jenny rifle through her dresser drawer.
She raised an eyebrow. “I assume you mean David?”
I nodded.
“Well, he’s a year ahead of me, which means he officially finishes school next month, though Upper Sixth Form students no longer attend classes now that the exams are complete. I’m not sure what he studied or if he’s going on to university. I don’t know him that well.” She looked away, appearing deep in thought. “He was dating someone a while back, but they’ve since broken up. As of a few weeks ago, I hadn’t seen him with anyone else. I think he keeps busy with his music.”
She shut her drawer and crawled into bed.
“Music?” I pictured him sitting, poised over a baby grand piano.
She perched herself up on one side, facing me. “Yeah, he’s in a band.”
“Really? What kind of music do they play?”
“Not sure. He must play guitar because I’ve seen him carrying a case around,” she said, giving me a pensive look. “Why are you asking about him? What about your boyfriend?”
I braved a look at my bedside photo and grimaced. “I don’t know.”
“What is it, Beth?” she asked.
“You want to know the truth?”
She leaned forward and nodded.
I hadn’t planned on talking about my turbulent relationship with Rick, especially when I was still getting to know my cousin all over again. But since the opportunity arose, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to explain the reality of the situation.