Letters From Grace

by C. J. Carmichael

  “Why would that bother him? He knows who you are. What you do.”

  “Yesterday I actually invited him to join me.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “The birding in Costa Rica has got to be the best in the world. I know he’d love it.”

  “Yeah, but planning a trip together when you’ve only just reconnected. Isn’t that a bit much?”

  “Probably,” Grace admitted. Which wasn’t like her. Normally she was very selective about including people on her work gigs. But she’d been under the spell of nostalgia. She’d felt almost as if she’d stepped into a time machine and gone back to the early days of loving Levi. Inviting him to Costa Rica had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  “But it doesn’t matter,” she continued. “Levi had a million reasons why he couldn’t go.”

  “Work? His daughter?”

  “Yes. All of which could be handled if he really wanted to. They were just excuses. The truth must be he doesn’t want to go.” She thought for a moment, then elaborated, “At least not with me.”

  Alicia looked at her worriedly. “Don’t take his rejection too hard. It’s easy to be impulsive when you’re young. Not so easy when you have a business and a family.”

  Grace sighed. “Yes. Good point. Levi wasn’t exactly impulsive when he was young, so I could hardly expect him to be impulsive now.”

  “The two of you are very different that way.”

  “Yes.” Depressed by their conversation, Grace asked Alicia about her plans for her yoga studio and they chatted about that while they finished unloading the trolley and preparing the tent for customers. There was still an hour until the festival would open when Alicia left to teach her next class, so Grace strolled the grounds with her camera, soaking in the atmosphere.

  She took pictures of little vignettes that amused her or were beautiful or touching. A chipmunk sneaking crumbs dropped by a volunteer who was on his lunch break. An old woman sitting in a quiet corner of her tent, knitting at a furious pace, oblivious to the noise and chaos around her. A child reaching out with wonder to touch a multi-colored silk scarf.

  And Levi. He seemed to be everywhere at once that day. He kept showing up in her viewfinder assembling tents, hauling boxes, fiddling with electrical wires. And when she couldn’t see him a part of her was always watching for him. Once when Grace looked up from photographing the gazebo, she spotted Levi just ten feet away talking into his hand-held radio.

  When their gazes connected, they both froze for a few seconds. Grace couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. It was like that moment in the wilds when you catch sight of something beautiful you’ve been tracking for ages and ages and you reach for your camera knowing this might be the only chance you get.

  Only, in this case Grace didn’t touch her camera.

  And then Levi turned his head away from her, resumed talking on his radio, and the moment was gone.

  October 4, 1999

  New York University

  Dear Levi,

  Remember I was telling you about my Visual Thinking class? Our prof is so cool. He says eventually our camera will feel like a natural extension of our bodies. When he was a kid, he used to sleep with his camera, which may sound weird, but I think it’s kind of awesome, too. I took my Nikon with me to the football game on Saturday and lining up my shots made me see the game in a totally different way. Which is exactly what Professor White said would happen. He says it’s our job to change the perceptions of the rest of the world. Isn’t that exciting? I didn’t bother going to the dance after the game. I was too excited to get to the lab and see how my pictures turned out.

  P.S. Have you noticed that while we text a lot every day, we always seem to say the important stuff in our letters?

  Chapter Eight

  Grace had a basic black dress she wore to all semi-formal occasions. She could dress it up with heels and dazzling earrings. Or take it down a notch with black pumps and a statement necklace. She asked Alicia which would be more appropriate for the cocktail reception that night.

  “Give them the full treatment,” her friend advised. “Heels. The works.”

  Grace wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to look like someone from the big city, dressing to impress. But when she walked into the banquet room of the Cascade Hotel she saw instantly that Alicia’s advice had been correct.

  Men were in suits and the women were dressed for a party with salon-styled hair, glittery dresses and strappy sandals. If anything, her outfit veered to the understated.

  The room itself was gorgeous with eye-catching floral bouquets featuring autumn colors. A string quartet was playing Vivaldi while waitstaff dressed in black carrying trays of champagne and tapas mingled among the guests.

  Grace stood for several moments, looking for a familiar face.

  She couldn’t see any.

  Feeling foolishly like a teenager on the sidelines at a high school dance, she searched the crowd for anyone she knew, a way to ease into the crowd. But it had been over twenty years since she’d last lived in this town and she recognized no one.

  And then. Striding into the room looking totally at ease and confident, came Levi. He took in the room at a glance then walked straight toward her. On the way he acquired two glasses of champagne and handed one to her when he drew near.

  “I want to apologize. I was kind of a jerk earlier today. You look fantastic by the way.”

  “Thank you. I’d like to apologize too. I shouldn’t have been so impulsive yesterday. Sometimes, when I’m excited about a project, I don’t stop to consider the impracticalities.”

  “Yeah. I know that about you. It wasn’t fair of me to shoot you down the way I did.” He nodded toward the crowd. “Recognize anyone?”

  “Not at all. I feel like I’m thirteen again and the new girl at school.”

  “You’ve come a long way since then. People are hanging back because they’re impressed. Come on, let’s make the rounds.”

  With Levi at her side Grace enjoyed meeting the event’s major sponsors. She did end up remembering a few of the people, but even those who were new to her were easy to talk to. It helped having Levi by her side. She could tell how much he was liked and respected by the way people’s eyes lit up when he joined a group. It had been like that when they were kids too.

  Eventually they crossed paths with Clara and Sam.

  “Everything is perfect, don’t you think?” Clara looked very pleased. “Nice choice on the string quartet, Sam.”

  “Thanks. I took a walk through the artist tents earlier. Impressive showing this year, Clara.”

  Grace gazed at them in shock. “So the two of you can be civil with one another.”

  “I told you they’re actually good friends when there’s nothing to fight about,” Levi said.

  Grace was about to ask where the rest of the committee members were when Erin took center stage. With microphone in hand, she welcomed everyone to the thirty-eighth annual Woodland Arts and Autumn Foliage Festival. To Grace’s eye the mayor personified fall foliage in an eye-catching silk handkerchief dress of orange and gold, the colors blending perfectly with her thick auburn hair.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Erin continued. “And for celebrating our community and the many talented artists and craftspeople who live here.”

  As the crowd applauded, Grace glanced at Levi and wondered how he could not be impressed with this woman’s obvious beauty. But he wasn’t even looking at Erin.

  “Ready for another drink?” he asked in a low voice.

  She nodded.

  Meanwhile Erin kept speaking. “I also want to thank the hardworking members of the festival committee, in particular my co-chair Levi Shanahan. Levi, get up here with me!”

  Warm applause accompanied Levi as he gave Grace an apologetic shrug, then made his way to the stage. He accepted the mike and thanked the crowd. “I’d like to give a special call-out to Grace Hamilton from New York City. Grace and I went to high school together. Since th
ose days she’s made a career for herself in the incredibly competitive world of wildlife photography. Her latest book—focusing on the birds that inhabit our national parks—is currently on the bestsellers’ lists and for good reason—it’s completely captivating. So make sure you check out her tent tomorrow.”

  Grace was touched by the speech and the crowd’s warm reaction to it.

  Erin took back the mike and encouraged the crowd to enjoy the evening. “Tomorrow I hope you’ll come out and support all our artists and enjoy the wonderful lineup of entertainment that’s been organized by Sam Rigby. To cap off the day we’ll meet at the Woodland campground for a barbecue dinner. Hope you enjoy it all and thanks again, everyone, for your support.”

  Grace expected Levi to rejoin her once the speech was over. But Erin linked her arm with his and led him in a different direction. She supposed there was more committee work to attend to.

  She sampled some of the tapas—a coconut chicken samosa, and then a saffron-seared scallop—both of which were delicious. Eventually she ran into a friend she remembered from high school and they chatted for a while. Then Oliver James, the lawyer on the committee, handed her a drink.

  “Thirsty work, socializing.”

  “Agreed.” She took a welcome sip of the champagne.

  “Interesting town, Woodland. I moved here from Manhattan three years ago and I still feel like an outsider.”

  “What brought you here?”

  “Burn-out at work and a broken heart after a ten-year relationship ended.” He shrugged and gave a self-deprecating smile. “Thought I’d move to a small town and live some sort of bucolic, idyllic life.”

  “And?”

  “The reality wasn’t as advertised. Oh, the work is good. I bought my practice from an attorney who wanted to retire and most of his clients have been happy to stay with me. But making friends has been tough. Most of the people in my age group are already married.”

  Oliver’s difficulty finding acceptance in the small town reminded her of how she had felt as a teenager when her family moved here. Were all small towns like Woodland? Did you have to be born in one in order to be accepted?

  “Personally I think this town is lucky to have you. A skilled lawyer, willing to donate his time to important community events.”

  “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”

  “It’s the truth.” Grace finished her champagne then set down the glass. “Thanks again for the drink, but it’s time I got home.” She’d made the rounds and she wasn’t going to hang around like a wallflower, hoping Levi would come back. “Will you say goodbye for me to the others?”

  She was at the coat check when Levi caught up to her.

  “Going already? I still owe you a drink.”

  “I’ll take a rain check. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”

  “I shouldn’t have let Erin drag me around to all the sponsors.”

  “You were just doing your duty as co-chair. I was fine, honestly.”

  “I was hoping we could talk… This event probably isn’t the place. There’s a bar downstairs in the lobby. We could go there.”

  She really wanted to say yes. Whether she was on a hike, playing a game of chess, or working a crowd, being with Levi always felt so right and natural. And she craved more of his company.

  But tonight she’d been reminded of a very important fact. She might be a successful artist, but she was still an outsider when it came to Woodland. More importantly, she was still, and always would be, an outsider when it came to having a future with Levi. “I’m tired. Maybe we can talk tomorrow.”

  She got a small measure of satisfaction from the disappointed expression on his face as she left.

  *

  The Woodland picnic site was booked for the town barbecue on the Saturday evening of every Foliage Festival weekend, but on Friday the teenagers of the town claimed it as their own. It had been this way for as long as Jess could remember, and her dad said it had been the same when he was young.

  The ingredients for the evening were relatively simple. A massive bonfire. Hotdogs and marshmallows. And bring your own beverages, whatever they may be. Jess had hot apple cider in her insulated water bottle. Lots of her friends were into beer and other substances, but Jess trained too hard as a runner to mess with any of that.

  For Jess evenings like these were one of the best things about living in Woodland. The big snapping, crackling fire pushed out an inviting heat into the cool autumn night. When the smoke got too much, all you had to do was walk down by the river’s edge and perch on one of the big flat rocks.

  Some of the kids even braved the frigid water for a midnight swim. Last year Jess and Max had tried it. Getting in the water had been torture. But once submerged, Jess was surprised how quickly her body adapted. And after she’d toweled off and changed into dry clothes in the public restroom, she’d felt so energized.

  Tonight Jess was wearing a bikini under her fleece jacket and jeans in case Max was up for the adventure again. First she had to find him though. She’d arrived at the party late because she’d had to fill in for one of the festival volunteers in charge of decorating the town hall for the cocktail party.

  Jess’s job had been to haul flower arrangements from the delivery van to the tables inside the hall. A relatively easy job except people kept changing their mind about where, exactly, the flowers should be placed. By the time Jess got home to change for her own party, Max had already left, along with a group of their friends.

  She’d walked here on her own, trying not to mind that he hadn’t waited. But if she was honest with herself, she did mind. Ever since she’d been old enough to go, she’d always come with Max. Generally in a group with other people, so it wasn’t a date. But would it have killed him to miss a few hours of the party and wait for her? Better yet, if he’d come to the hall to help her with the flowers, they both could have got here at least an hour earlier. But when she’d told him about her dad’s last-minute request for help, he hadn’t offered.

  Jess noticed a friend of hers toasting a wiener near the fire. She grabbed a roasting stick and a marshmallow and went to stand beside her.

  “Hey, Devon.” They had never been close friends, but they saw each other regularly at parties. “Been here long?”

  “Hey, Jess. Yeah, Zek and me helped start the fire.” She shifted slightly so Jess could see the husky, blond-haired guy beside her. “You know Zek?”

  Jess knew him to see him. He was the quarterback of the football team. He gave her a polite smile and she said, “Hey,” before turning to Devon again. “Have you seen Max?”

  “Sure. We were down by the river about twenty minutes ago. Saw him and some others dive into the swimming hole.” Devon made a show of shivering. “Crazy. I bet they’ll be coming to the fire soon to warm up.”

  Trying not to show how this news pained her, Jess gave a fleeting smile then moved away from the fire. One side of her marshmallow was charred black, the other hard and white. She popped the whole thing in her mouth, not noticing how it tasted.

  He’d gone swimming already. Without her.

  It felt like such a betrayal, but was it? Jess tried to see things from his point of view. It wasn’t his fault Jess had agreed to help her father out with the cocktail party. And someone else had probably suggested jumping into the water, maybe even dared Max to do it.

  Jess could feel her body relaxing, her mind calming down. Her father had taught her that wild emotional reactions should not be trusted. Think things through, he always told her if she came home upset about something that had happened at school.

  She headed toward the riverbank but couldn’t see Max or any of their group. Maybe they’d gone to change out of their wet swimsuits. Rather than go to the restrooms and check, Jess climbed up a big boulder, then lay back so she could see the stars. It was a clear night and with a stand of trees blocking the light from the bonfire, the sky was dazzling. She let her gaze sink into the millions—billions?—of stars making up t
he Milky Way. Looking at stars always made her think of her mother. She didn’t know why. It was weird—and scary—to think that she had been only six years older than Jess was right now when she had died.

  Suddenly Jess felt terribly lonely. She pushed herself upright, then scrambled down the rock. Max and the gang should be back by the fire by now.

  Sand and small pebbles crunched under her trainers as she followed the path back to the campsite. The bonfire appeared even larger than it had earlier. Funny how she’d never noticed before that the flames were the same colors as the fall foliage that made their part of the world so famous.

  She was pulling out her phone to try texting Max—though with all the noise of people talking and laughing and the music being played by a group who were dancing by the fire, she doubted he would hear it—when she spotted his familiar face. He was on the other side of the bonfire from her, talking to some girl Jess didn’t recognize. The girl was pretty. And her hair was wet.

  And then Jess noticed something else. The girl had her hand on Max’s arm. A moment later Max bent to say something in the girl’s ear. They both laughed.

  For a moment Jess felt numb, as her brain tried to reject what she had just seen. This couldn’t be happening. Max belonged to her. He was her best friend. Her best everything. He should have been swimming with her. Telling his jokes to her.

  But it was no good. Even after she’d turned away the image of the two of them remained burned in her mind.

  She took a few tentative steps away from the fire. Her gut ached as if she’d been physically punched. She wished desperately that she was home where she could curl up in her bed and let the misery swamp her without worrying about anyone seeing her fall apart. Instead she held her head high and kept moving. When a guy she knew from cross-country said hello, she managed a smile and kept moving.

  Eventually she made it to the fringe of the gathering. It was colder here. Darker. Jess had come on foot expecting to get a ride home with Max. Obviously that wasn’t going to happen.