Hope Falls_Passing Through

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Hope Falls_Passing Through Page 9

by Frances Elliot


  At about the mid-way mark, however, her uncertainty began again, followed successively by doubt, worry, and fear. It was past four; he’d probably stopped for the night in Elko and was already falling in love with one of those rancher girls who ride untamed horses in tight jeans. Alice hated those girls – they all had hair that belonged in shampoo ads.

  By the time she pulled into her driveway, she was on the verge of tears again. She could see a folded piece of paper wedged between the screen door and the jamb and already knew what it said. “You’re a wonderful girl – I will never forget you.” Signed with an un-smiley face or maybe just a heart. Oh well, she tried to tell herself, easy come, easy go, and trudged up to the porch.

  The note read “7:00. Dress up.” So elated she had trouble getting the door unlocked, Alice went inside, dropped her briefcase, threw her arms in the air and did her happy dance.

  Chapter Eleven – Tuesday Evening

  I look like a pallbearer, Ryan thought. When he’d packed up his apartment, he hadn’t thought about his clothes at all – just pulled out the stuff he always wore and taken the rest to a homeless shelter. He remembered keeping the suit because well, somebody might die. Or on a more hopeful note, get married someplace fancy.

  Now he was sitting in the car, stupendously uncomfortable. It was 6:45 and way too soon for Alice to find out he was always early. Every single girl he had known despised this trait, but he couldn’t help himself. The only thing he hated more than being early was being late.

  He loosened his tie and undid the top shirt button. Fact was, he’d been uncomfortable all day, long before he put on this funeral suit. He’d asked at the hotel about a nice place for dinner and the desk kid gave him a weird heh-heh-heh smile, as if Ryan had asked where he could pick up a hooker.

  And the girl at the little florist he’d found actually winked at him, and been strangely adamant about which flowers he should buy. He’d gone in for what he assumed was always a safe bet, the big bunch of roses. But the girl had picked out a lot of different things he couldn’t identify and the result was nice – delicate and pretty and much more like Alice somehow. He was very pleased.

  “Having second thoughts?” David was standing at the door with a book in his hand, calling through the screen.

  Ryan rolled his eyes in resignation, grabbed the flowers from the seat beside him and got out of the car. Holding the door open, David watched him approach. “You guys getting married already?” he asked dryly.

  Feeling slightly exasperated with the attitude he’d been getting all day, Ryan said, “Yep. First wedding chapel we see when we cross the state line,” and watched David’s face.

  He saw one satisfying flicker of worry, quickly hidden, then David turned and crossed to the stairs. “Oh, Alice dear, your date’s here.”

  Some kind of muffled response came from upstairs; David went back to his chair and opened his book. “Nice job at the store, by the way. Still got the keys?”

  Ryan reached into his pocket, but David waved a hand. “What the hell, might as well hang on to them. I don’t imagine you’re going to steal the TV or anything.”

  Automatically, Ryan glanced at the elderly set. “We don’t watch much,” David said, sounding almost defensive. “Although Alice gets a real boot out of the law shows, laughs all the way through them.”

  Oh, god, no. He knew that; she’d told him last night -- on her knees, her hair tousled, her eyes wide, his cock in her mouth. Ryan sat down in a hurry and tried to think about something else. Anything else. He was about to say something totally inane like “great golf weather,” when David asked, “You know how to cook that chicken you bought?”

  What? Ryan tried to comprehend the question. With an enormous effort of will, he yanked his mind away from that blowjob and concentrated. “Oh. Yeah. A lady at the market told me,” he finally managed to say. “It was just like you said.”

  As it turned out, he’d rather enjoyed the whole expedition. Faced with the bewildering array of products, he’d frozen just inside the door, but he shouldered on until the fog cleared and he began to recognize familiar objects. People of both sexes offered advice, sometimes even removing items from his cart and replacing them with others.

  “Little bit of everything,” the cashier had said, eyeing his enormous order. “You moving in someplace near here?”

  No, Ryan had told her; he was just passing through – all this was for his girlfriend. The cashier gave him a big grin, displaying a mouthful of blue braces. “Oh, caveman type,” she’d said, leaving Ryan feeling unaccountably proud of himself.

  Yes, he thought, here I come, home from the hunt. The good provider, tireless forager, fearless slayer of plastic-wrapped meat -- the dauntless hero, armed only with his wits and a wallet, returns. He hoped she’d approve.

  David had gone back to his book, ignoring Ryan, whose mind was straying back to sex. And then Alice came into view on the stairs, making matters worse. To hell with dinner -- he wanted to toss her over his shoulder, carry her back to her room and throw her on the bed.

  She wore a black dress, red lipstick and high heels … and she’d done something different with her hair. Something that made him imagine grasping it, controlling her head, bringing her mouth to his. Kissing her until she made that little noise that made him want to ravish her.

  As he got to his feet, he saw that she, too, looked startled. Her eyes widened slightly and she tilted her head to the side. “My, my, my,” she said, almost to herself, “don’t you clean up nice. You even got a haircut.”

  Grinning, he kissed her chastely on the cheek and began to pull away but then made the mistake of hesitating. Their eyes met and he knew one touch, one gesture, one kiss would send them over the brink.

  “Probably time for you nice young people to get going,” said David, not looking up from his book. “Don’t want to be late for the dance.”

  “David,” was all she said. She tilted her head towards the ribbon-tied bouquet on the sofa. “Are those for me?”

  He fetched them and handed them over with what he hoped was a flourish. An odd little smile played on her lips as she thanked him. “I’ll get a vase,” she said.

  This time he didn’t even try not to stare at her ass as he followed her down the hall to the kitchen -- the heels gave it an even more irresistible swing that made his hand twitch. When she opened a cabinet and stretched to reach up, he couldn’t resist.

  Standing beside her, he placed his hand just below the small of her back and waited. The hand that brought the vase down to the counter trembled and he heard her take a deep breath. Without looking at him, she took a step sideways to the sink and turned on the tap.

  The side of her hip pressed into his erection; he closed his eyes and let his hand move down to rest on the fullest part of her ass. She filled the vase, set it down and braced her hands on the edge of the counter. “Are you going to move your hand?” she said, looking straight ahead.

  “Are you going to step away from me?”

  Her profile was perfect, he thought, watching her lips twitch.

  “No,” she answered. “I think I’ll …” She began to turn towards him and he felt another uptick in the current that always ran between them.

  Unnecessarily loud footsteps sounded from the hall and they jumped apart. “How about a nice, cold beer, David? Well, don’t mind if I do,” he said entering. “Heavens, you two still here?”

  Alice shot David a nasty look Ryan hoped she’d never direct at him and said, “Just on our way out.” She plunked the flowers into the vase and added, “I’ll get my wrap.”

  Careful to keep some space between them, he escorted her politely out to the car, opened her door, waited until she settled in and closed it behind her. The perfect gentleman on a normal first date, he thought. I can do that.

  Of course in an area like this, there were probably a dozen private, woodsy little places to park. They could get out of the car, watch the stars come out; he could slip his hand under her dr
ess … He wished he had something like a blanket in the trunk.

  Maybe on the way home – it would be wonderful to see her naked in the moonlight. He was calculating his chances of finding an all-night blanket store when she said, “Did you get the flowers on Main Street?”

  “I guess so. Just down from your office. Why?”

  “I’ve known Meg, the girl who works in there, since elementary school. She told you what to buy, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t tell they were for you.”

  Alice sighed and shook her head slowly. “You didn’t have to – she already knew. Small town grapevine.” She sounded a bit weary.

  “Really?” He drove a block or two, mulling that over. “That explains a lot. The barber said ‘heavy date, eh?’ and gave me a really weird look. I just let it go, because everyone in this town seems a little nuts to me.”

  “Well, no, that was probably business as usual for Hal. He’s a little smarmy, actually tells farmer’s daughter jokes. But he might have heard – who knows?” She laughed a little. “The gossip thing gets tiresome sometimes, but I guess I’m used to it.”

  They rode in a comfortable silence for a while and Ryan turned onto a state road. For some reason, he felt pleased she didn’t ask where they were headed. Then again, Lake Tahoe had seemed to be pretty much the only choice.

  “So. Tell me about this car,” she said, without preamble.

  Oh. How should he explain? Even the guy in the dealership hadn’t seemed to take him seriously -- listlessly describing features in a tone that indicated Ryan didn’t belong there. He’d been mighty taken aback when Ryan had cut him off, pointed and said, “That one’s fine. How much?”

  He wanted Alice to understand. “I wanted, no I needed to get away from myself. It had to be different – I had to be different.”

  “What did you drive before?”

  He hesitated, and she said “Porsche?”

  Did he have to tell her? Yeah, he did. “I had a Ferrari. But just for a day,” he added hastily. “I went down to pick up an old buddy in San Jose and he got in and gave me a really disgusted look and said ‘when did you turn into such an asshole?’ So we drove back up the peninsula and I sold it back. Don’t ask what that episode of temporary insanity cost me.”

  It was obvious she was enjoying this. “So then what did you get?”

  “A black Corvette,” he mumbled.

  She laughed a little and said, “That’s not so bad. Better, at least. And now I almost understand the family sedan.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her lift a hand as if about to pat his leg, and then pull it back to her lap. She smoothed her already smooth skirt, crossed and re-crossed her legs. The fading light picked up the subtle gleam from her sheer black stockings.

  Ryan gritted his teeth. “If you do that again, I will have to pull over and fuck you by the side of the road.”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice husky.

  “Okay what?” he said. “No. Never mind. Tell me about, tell me about …” He searched desperately for a safe topic. “Your family,” he finished, proud of himself.

  The rest of the drive passed amiably, almost like a normal date. He learned her mother had died when the kids were in high school; their dad had been a lawyer too, and when he was gone, David had been alone and swamped by work.

  “It seemed like a good stopgap for me,” she said. “I never really meant to come back at all, but …” She trailed off, sounding tired of the subject and seemed grateful when they pulled up to the hotel.

  Constructed of gray stone and redwood, the two-story building sprawled along a hillside that sloped down to the lake. A valet ran to open her door, then came around to Ryan’s side. “Checking in, sir?”

  Ryan told him no, just dinner and the kid pulled the car away. When he looked over to Alice, she was half-turned towards the lake, looking pensive. The sun had dipped behind the mountains, but the sky was still a deep rose shot with purple. He saw her chest move up and down as she took a deep breath.

  Lifting her hand, she made a curious gesture, putting her index finger just below her eye and blinking rapidly a few times. He’d seen women do that before, he knew, but when? It came to him – tears. She’d been catching a tear from her eyelashes.

  A steel claw closed around his heart -- he felt physical pain at the thought of her unhappiness and he had to fight back panic. What was wrong? How could he fix it? And suddenly the constriction in his heart eased and a remarkable sense of purpose swept through him. In that one instant, everything changed.

  All the dreamlike haziness and indecision dissipated; he felt strong, capable, clearheaded and competent. For the first time in a long time, he remembered who he was and the man he wanted to be.

  He crossed to her, silently offered his arm and they climbed the wide steps to the lobby. They didn’t speak until they were seated at a window table with a view so awe-inspiring Ryan felt he should lower his voice if he spoke. A giant fireplace across the room crackled peacefully.

  A canoe drifted about forty yards from shore, the occupant sitting with the paddle balanced across his legs, his shoulders relaxed. “I think I know how that man feels,” Alice said, her finger extended to point.

  Somehow he knew she didn’t expect a response, but he studied the man on the lake. The guy looked thoughtful, like he was mulling over something important, Ryan decided. He glanced at Alice, who was still gazing out the window, and right then, knew that he, at least, had made up his mind.

  The waiter was approaching. “How do you feel about champagne?” Ryan asked.

  She smiled gently and said, “It seems appropriate, doesn’t it?”

  He rose halfway and asked if she minded if he stepped away for a minute. She shook her head. “Not at all. I will never, ever get tired of looking at this.”

  Waylaying the waiter, he asked for a good champagne and two appetizers, whatever the kitchen thought they did best. He strode purposely back through the lobby and found the concierge desk. A very pretty young woman asked how she could help.

  “Is there a jeweler?” he asked. He knew there was a small casino, so chances were good, he thought. They usually went together, he’d found.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, I think they’ve closed up for the evening.”

  Ryan got out his wallet and dug around for the credit card he’d regarded as an unfortunate reminder of a life gone astray. But he was no longer ashamed of it – now he was pleased to have its eerie power at his disposal.

  “Would it be possible to make a call?” he said, showing her the card in a perfectly casual, matter-of-fact way. “Tell them I definitely intend to make a purchase?”

  The concierge took another look at him, reassessed the price of his suit, and reached for her telephone. “Of course, sir, how will I reach you? Are you staying with us?”

  “No, but I wonder if you can take care of that for me. Are there rooms available?”

  “I believe there are.”

  “Perfect. I’ll leave the card with you and pick it up at the desk later. And you’ll send word to me in the dining room if you have any luck with the jeweler?” He put it as a question but they both knew it wasn’t.

  “Of course. Enjoy your dinner.”

  As he walked back to the table, Ryan contemplated the new sense of equilibrium that had settled over him. Alice. All he’d ever really needed was Alice. Alice would guide him, warn him, nudge him back onto the right path whenever he began to veer off course again. He was certain of it.

  But what was troubling her? All evening he’d sensed something different, some tiny restraint he hadn’t felt last night or this morning. But it couldn’t be that her feelings for him had changed -- because that would feel like a 9.0 earthquake.

  No, this was some inner, private disquiet she was working through and he felt instinctively that she had to do it on her own. If declaring himself would help, wonderful. If not, he would help if he could, listen, and wait. He would wait as long as she wanted
.

  Chapter Twelve – Tuesday Evening, Part 2

  Alice guessed he had gone to get a room and she was glad. Despite all the wonderful changes the last four days had brought, she felt reluctant to go home. Not to her same old room in the same old house in the same old town where she’d been treading water for the past few years.

  There were some things falling in love wasn’t supposed to fix, she’d realized earlier. She’d been getting ready, excited by the prospect of the evening ahead, when she’d suddenly frozen, mascara wand in hand, and looked at herself in the mirror.

  Ryan would be good for her, she knew – he was the one she’d been waiting for. But would she be good for him? How could she ask him to build a life with a woman who had no passion for anything in her life except him? That wasn’t good enough for anyone, let alone Ryan.

  The waiter had brought the wine but she’d told him to wait to pour. Now he was back with several dishes that he placed on the table with care, rotating the plates a half-inch this way or that until some mysterious protocol had been satisfied.

  Ryan reappeared, sat and nodded to the waiter, who poured the champagne and bowed himself away. “I was getting a room, in case you wanted …” He stopped, furrowing his brow as he surveyed the table. “What is all this?”

  Alice laughed. “Well,” she said, pointing with her fork, “ I’m pretty sure that’s raw seafood of some sort, and that, I believe, is a glorified Hot Pocket and I think the other plates are just salad. Fancy salad, but salad. I thought you ordered all this.”

  “No, I told them to bring the top of the hit parade. You game?”

  “You bet. I’ll eat anything,” she said and dug her fork into the puff pastry. “Oh, yum. This is incredible.”

  “So is this fish thing, try it.”

  They decided to stick with what worked and ordered the specials without asking for details. The waiter, initially dismayed, left happy, telling them the chef would be very pleased.

 

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