by Glen Robins
Rob sighed audibly through the speaker. “He’s changed, you know. Time and responsibilities and stress have forced him to grow up and grow serious. Unlike yours truly here.” Another wistful sigh. “He’s pretty boring now, to tell you the truth. He gave up surfing, moved to Petaluma to be near Amy’s folks, took the first job that came along, and has been fairly hard to get together with ever since. In fact, I only see him at family get-togethers. It’s the only time he comes down anymore.”
“Family get-togethers? His or yours?”
“You kidding? My family hardly exists anymore. My sister moved to China to teach English and my mom is in and out of rehab all the time. No, I mean the Cooks. They include me in everything, always have since I was like nine. With Collin being such a dud these days, they need someone to liven up their parties.”
Emily giggled. She missed Rob’s sanguine ways and his hearty enthusiasm for life. “Back to the reunion …I don’t want him to be uncomfortable with me there, but I’d love to see everybody again.”
“Look Emily. Realistically, he probably won’t even go. If it costs money and takes him away from his family, the chances are pretty slim.”
“Any way you could talk him into it?”
“Who do you think you’re talking to, Emily? If he were lost in the desert, I could talk him into buying sand. Of course I can talk him into going.”
She giggled again. Good old Rob hadn’t changed a bit. “I’d like to see him and try to mend fences. It’s been almost ten years and what I did to him still weighs on me.”
“Don’t let it, Emily. He’s moved on. He’s fine, so don’t let it get to you. We all did stupid stuff when we were young. I’m sure he understands that.”
“OK, but I still want to talk to him and ask his forgiveness. I’ve never worked up the courage to even try again. He never responded to the emails I sent apologizing. Probably didn’t even read them. He must think I’m a monster.”
“I know he doesn’t think you’re a monster, per se. I mean, you’re much too pretty for that. But you probably have some ‘splainin’ to do, Lucy.” Rob used his best Desi Arnez impression from the 1950’s sitcom they all watched growing up. It made Emily laugh.
“Will you please make him come, but don’t tell him about me being there? That might scare him away.”
“As you wish,” he said with dramatic flair, quoting the famous line from a movie the group of friends had watched many times and loved: The Princess Bride.
Chapter Fourteen
Ten Year Reunion
Huntington Beach, California
Rob Howell proved himself to be a convincing salesman. Using all of his powers of persuasion and a few frequent flyer miles, Rob finally convinced Collin to come to the ten-year class reunion. Since there was no actual money being used, Collin relented, saying it would be good for them to attend together—therapeutic, even.
Lukas’s death eighteen months earlier had hit them both hard. The news that he and his team had met their fate on a lonely desert road twenty kilometers outside of Baghdad had sent Collin into a funk that had taken him months to pull out of. Roadside bombs and IED’s, the improvised explosive devices talked about on the news, had become personal to Collin now that he had lost a dear friend to one of the fiendish gadgets. Every mention of them reopened the internal wounds.
Lukas’s funeral was possibly the most difficult thing Collin had ever sat through. With Lukas’s mother wailing uncontrollably and his father angry and cursing the Iraqi invasion, the United States government, and even God, Collin realized how soul-wrenching the death of a child must be, especially for those with no faith. Little Eliza’s health challenges cast longer shadows in his soul after watching these two parents grieve their loss.
Since Lukas’s funeral, Collin had avoided visiting Huntington Beach. Instead, he had invited his parents, siblings, and Rob to Petaluma for special occasions like birthdays, Thanksgiving, and Easter. The high school reunion would mark his first time back. It wouldn’t—couldn’t—be the same without Lukas there. A sober thought but attending would be a significant step toward normalcy.
The Thursday evening before the reunion, Collin was greeted at John Wayne Airport by his lifelong friend. Rob trotted to him with his hand up, grasping Collin’s in the classic “bro hug” fashion as he clapped his left hand on Collin’s back. Then, imitating their lost friend, Rob turned on his best Austrian accent, dawned a Lukas-like smile, and went for the traditional Austrian bear hug, pulling Collin off his feet as he wrapped his arms around him.
The impression filled a void and broke a momentary awkward tension.
Any reservations Collin had felt about the reunion vanished. As important as work and family were to Collin, he needed this boost from his pal. The stress would always be there and the need to perform at work would never lessen, but his ability to maintain his focus would be enhanced, he had learned from a best-selling self-help book, if he took time to “sharpen the saw” now and then. Explaining to Amy that he needed to spend hundreds of dollars on airfare, hotel, and a ticket to the reunion would have been anything but pleasant. Telling her he was using Rob’s frequent flyer miles, staying at his place, and using an extra ticket because Rob’s date backed out, made it easier for him to justify the trip.
Rob informed Collin that he had reservations at a locally famous steakhouse overlooking the ocean. Orange County traffic was, as always, a nightmare, but it didn’t bother them. They used the time to catch up and share stories. When they got to the restaurant, they were seated in front of a floor-to-ceiling plate glass window overlooking the water. The two friends spent three hours eating, talking, and laughing as they reminisced about some of the crazy stuff they did together in high school and shared remembrances of their fallen comrades, Darrell and Lukas. They talked about everyone else they knew and what they were doing. With one glaring exception: Emily’s name was never mentioned.
Around midnight, they pushed back from the table and made their way to Rob’s Mercedes in the parking lot. Rob drove up Pacific Coast Highway and pulled into the parking lot of Huntington Harbor Marina.
Collin shot him a sideways glance. “You dog. You did it, didn’t you?”
Rob smiled. “Wanted it to be a surprise. Like I told you, I got sick of living close to the water, watching the people who lived on their boats, and wishing I was one of them. So, what I’m about to show you is now my primary residence.”
Rob unlocked a gate at the docks and escorted Collin down a gangplank and along the dock until they reached an immaculate 40-foot yacht “Diablo Del Mar.”
Collin whistled. “You’re living the dream, my friend.”
Rob chuckled. “Yeah, if you consider spending half your life on airplanes or in conference rooms and the other half cleaning and polishing every piece of metal and every surface on this thing ‘the dream,’ then sure, I’m living ‘the dream.’” He smirked and tapped his finger on a gleaming handrail. “If you don’t keep up, the ocean will reclaim it eventually. Truth be known, I spend every spare minute I can here. I love this boat and don’t mind the hours of hard, physical labor involved. I just put in my headphones and play music or listen to podcasts while I work. It’s my ‘brain time.’ Plus, the salt air and the sound of the waves … Man, there’s no better way to beat the stress.”
Collin smiled as he surveyed his surroundings. “Yeah, I could use a little of this kind of stress relief.” He climbed the latter to the bridge and sat in one of the Captain’s chairs, gazing out over the moonlit harbor. “You ever go out and catch anything with those?” he asked, pointing at the fishing rods stowed in holders off the back rail of the bridge.
“Aye,” said Rob, doing his best pirate imitation. “Ye landlubbers be warned. Thar’s fishes out there and we be fixing to catch ‘em.”
Collin scoffed and chuckled at Rob and his enthusiastic acting. “Seriously? We going to do some fishing?”
Rob didn’t break character. “Aye, matey. I reckon we go after ‘Golia
th,’ the largest and tastiest tuna to ever roam these here waters. Thar be stories in these here parts about a whale of a fish out thar.”
Collin’s smile grew wider as he eyed the fishing gear. “Guess I can check two things off my bucket list, then. Catching my own sashimi and becoming a pirate.”
“Aye. You’re in for a real treat, you scurvy dog,” Rob said, matching his smile.
The conversation veered in one direction then another until 3 a.m., when they finally found the need to sleep.
Friday was spent fishing off the California coast, straying northward nearly to Catalina Island. Nothing worth catching was caught, but the friends reveled in the fresh air, the blaring music, and the rekindled camaraderie.
Saturday morning was Collin’s turn to shine as they surfed at Salt Creek, Collin’s favorite spot, a half hour drive south. The waves were decent and the locals cooperative, many of them recognizing Collin from his high school days and allowing him to ride at will without the customary initiation levied on newcomers. By noon, they were famished, so they revisited one of their old haunts, Zack’s, their favorite burger shack right on the beach in Dana Point. The day was like so many others ten years earlier. Collin felt more carefree and relaxed than he had since high school. He basked in the reclaimed exhilaration of youthful pursuits.
Next up, the main event.
Fashionably late, as always, Rob and Collin sauntered into the ballroom at the Huntington Hilton just after 8 p.m. Collin was prepared to talk about surfing with some of the school’s infamous burnouts and to relive the Magliano take-down with those who still stood in awe of what was considered by some to be his defining high school achievement. The mood was lighthearted and jovial as he shook hands with some, waved at others, and exchanged pleasantries with a few he hardly recognized.
Collin was really looking forward to finding his old cooking partner, John Robinson so they could joke about all the stuff they burned in Home Economics. John saw him coming and rushed to greet him with a hearty hug. John had been involved in, if not the instigator of, many of the pranks Collin pulled during their senior year. Collin, sensing that John was feeling out of place, invited him to come hang with him and Rob.
But Rob had momentarily disappeared and a noticeable shift in John’s demeanor should have been a signal, but Collin was too busy glad-handing those who greeted him.
As he and John swapped tales and caught up on life, Emily Burns was the farthest thing from his mind. John’s eyes continually swept the crowd as he listened and talked. He offered Collin a drink several times, even though he should have known that Collin never drank. The oddity of his behavior didn’t dawn on Collin until there was a lull in the conversation, and John’s scanning eyes locked in on something across the room. A nearly imperceptible nod followed. Next, John suggested they find Rob. He guided Collin by the elbow toward the area where he had been looking.
“What are you doing?” asked Collin as John urged him forward.
“Come on, man,” he said. “Rob’s over here. I haven’t talked to that guy in ages.”
They walked toward a throng of their classmates clustered near one of the tables, expecting to be hailed as the finest fire starters in Home Ec. Instead, the small group parted and there she was, looking meek and pensive and breathtakingly gorgeous.
Collin stalled, freezing in place when he saw her. His breath caught in his throat. Words abandoned him as his eyes locked on hers. He stood motionless.
Emily wore a simple polka-dotted navy dress that stopped just above the knees, a single-strand of pearls that accented the low sweep of the dress’s plunging décolletage, and matching earrings that dangled near the nape of her neck. The years had been kind to her. The dress showed that she had stayed fit and trim. Her hair was pulled back, which made her look almost as young as she did in high school.
She cocked her head at him. An awkward smile spread across her face as her eyes sparkled in the dance of the muted lighting.
Rob was suddenly at his side to wrap a reassuring arm around his shoulder and coach him. “Go say ‘hi,’ would you? Don’t make her feel any more awkward than she already does, you dork.”
“You set this up, didn’t you, Rob?”
“Maybe, but we can discuss that later. Right now, you have someone in front of you who is obviously nervous as hell. Would you please just hear what she has to say?” Rob was guiding him through the human aisle that had been created, preventing him from backpedaling, which he desperately wanted to do. Collin felt a rush of emotions he hadn’t felt in years, like someone had stirred up a gumbo soup that had been sitting too long. All sorts of things surfaced: anger, shame, remorse, angst, humiliation, sorrow, and a flood of memories of time shared with his high school sweetheart. Beneath all that was a latent spark. How could he help but feel something for this woman? She was a spectacular human being, and beautiful to boot. They had shared so much together—time, feelings, laughter, events big and small, dreams, aspirations, goals, and, of course, romance. She was and always would be the first girl he loved, and the first girl he ever kissed. A cloaked chamber in his heart would always belong to her.
The same feelings he had had all those years ago the first time she touched him—right after getting punched in the face—flooded through his racing heart.
Collin tried to resist Rob’s urgings. Part of him wanted to run away. He had tried valiantly for so many years to bury Emily Burns beneath a mountain of ash after figuratively burning her out of his memory banks. The other part of him nearly took her in his arms like he had done so many times before.
Rob won, as he usually did when he utilized his powers of persuasion. “Just go talk to her, you big baby. It’s not like she’s going to bite you.” He gave Collin a steady push in the back as he greeted Emily with a warm smile and a “look-what-the-cat-dragged-in” expression. “Emily, you look amazing. I’m honored to be in your presence, but I shall not abide long.” Rob bowed at the waist and kissed Emily’s hand, which elicited coos and giggles from the crowd. “Madam, adieu.”
Emily let out a pent-up laugh at Rob’s theatrics and Collin shoved him away, shaking his head. “Some things never change,” he said with a wry smile.
Rob could be heard shouting over the music as he retreated, “Come on, everybody. Let’s dance.”
Collin and Emily stood looking at each other for a long moment. The crowd dissipated. Some followed Rob onto the dance floor, others returned to their tables, and the rest headed for the bar.
“You look great,” they said simultaneously.
Smiling, Collin pointed to an empty table and asked if she would like to sit for a few minutes. Those few minutes stretched out for the rest of the night.
Emily apologized profusely for what she had done to him on grad night. Collin was surprised at how quickly he forgave her. The moment he did, it felt like he had dropped a backpack full of books from off his shoulders.
By the end of the evening, they were both laughing and sharing stories. They had little in common anymore but rehashing their glory days erased many of their differences. Several people interrupted during the course of the evening and inserted comments about “congratulations” and “good to see you two together again,” which made things awkward. Awkward or not, Collin was glad Rob conned him into coming and glad he had arranged for them to patch things up.
The hours they spent talking reconnected Collin and Emily as friends and unburdened him in a way he never expected. She, too, seemed relieved and happier.
Chapter Fifteen
After the Ten-Year Reunion
Huntington Beach, California
Rob, Collin, John Robinson, and Emily were among the last to leave the party. Rob had been exchanging stories, some laughs, and a few beverages with John while Emily occupied all of Collin’s attention. As things wound down, Rob asked John if he wanted to come hang out on the boat with them. He gladly accepted. It was nearly 2:00 a.m. Collin was, as usual, the designated sober driver. Drinking had never bee
n his thing. In fact, he preferred stone-cold sobriety because he knew himself well enough to know it would be all too easy for him to lose control. And the last thing he needed in his life was more regret.
Even though it was his car, Rob climbed in the backseat—over John, who had already seated himself on the passenger’s side. Typical Rob. Before they reached the car, he had handed the keys to Collin with the wink of an eye. “You can drop us off at the marina if you want to continue your private conversation,” Rob whispered into his shoulder.
“I’m married, you idiot,” Collin hissed in reply.
“I’m not making any untoward suggestions, my friend. Maybe that’s where your mind went. Not mine. Anyhow, I don’t think she should be driving, either.” Emily had held off most of the night, but finally indulged in a glass or three of wine as she and Collin caught up.
He turned to her. “Where shall I take you?”
“My car is over there,” she said, waving an arm in the general direction of the valet parking. “I drove up from San Diego.”
“Yeah, you’re not driving anywhere tonight. Maybe you should—”
“Come hang out on my boat with us,” interrupted Rob. He was acting more drunk than he was, Collin knew. It was an act meant to make Emily feel more comfortable, he surmised. “You should come see my new boat. It’s pretty cool.”
“You have a boat? When did that happen?” she asked.
“I just bought it because I didn’t want to pay for a hotel room at the Hilton. Way too expensive.” Rob raised an eyebrow, waiting for a reaction.
“Oh, really?” she said. “A boat is cheaper?”
“Maybe not, but it’s a better write-off.”
“I’d love to see it. Can’t stay long, though. Just a little while. Just long enough to sober up a little,” Emily acquiesced.