First Kiss

by Richards

  The fresh air felt good after hours of stuffy uncomfortableness. But the sad look on Elsa’s face lingered in my mind. It seemed so unfair that one little mistake could cause such an unholy mess for Elsa and my grandmother, not to mention all the women looking forward to the show—and even Harley, who had been cast as the silent villain for no good reason.

  The smell of eggs and bacon drew my attention to the Sunshine Café I happened to be passing. Alone at a table in the corner, Diane sat sipping coffee. At sight of me, she waved. Any other time I would have continued on without even thinking about stopping in to talk to her. But today was different. Maybe because my own life was in ruins, I felt the need to make one last effort on Elsa’s behalf. Or maybe it was the smell of bacon.

  Diane waved me to an open seat across from her.

  “Stu! I’m so glad to see you. How is Elsa holding up?”

  Fine, if an eternity spent haunting a clothing store was considered holding up. “Not so good. She’s still pretty upset. She broke up with Harley last night.”

  Diane’s coffee mug rattled onto the table.

  “The girl did what last night?”

  “She broke up with Harley,” I repeated.

  “Why on earth did she do that?”

  “She acted like she had to make a choice between Harley and the store. And she chose the store.”

  Diane shook her head.

  “It’s so hard being a woman these days. I get where she’s coming from. But that girl needs some help understanding she doesn’t have to choose between her career and her man. Unless the man is trying to force her to quit her career. In which case, the man has to go. But I didn’t get the impression Harley was like that.”

  The whole discussion was whistling past over my head. Why would a woman feel like they had to make a choice? “It seemed like he wanted to help her make the show a success,” I threw out. “They seemed like a good team together.”

  “I agree. There must be something we can do to help keep this whole thing from blowing up sky high.”

  Diane had a practical common sense that renewed a tiny bit of hope. Maybe there was still a chance for my idea. “I thought of something last night,” I began. “What if we did the show using local talent? You know, amateur models instead of hiring professionals. Couldn’t that work?”

  “Amateurs? You mean like ladies in town?”

  Time to name names and put it all on the line. “Yeah, like maybe you, and Mildred, and Audrey, and Aiko, and maybe some others.”

  A laugh bubbled up from deep inside Diane’s chest.

  “Well, that’s an interesting idea. But might be a bit harder to convince the models than you’re thinking. Watching a fashion show is one thing, but strutting on the catwalk being gawked at is another.”

  She slid her last piece of bacon onto a napkin and pushed it over to me.

  “With that said, you just might have the answer that saves the show. Let me chat with your grandmother and see what I can do.”

  Free bacon and Diane’s help. What more could I want?

  I strolled back out into the sunshine. Sometimes when life throws you a curve, you just have to adjust your swing and smack that baby out of the ballpark. I wasn’t a hero. Just an ordinary guy taking action in a heroic sort of way. If it led to a movie deal and an action figure, so be it.

  Ahead, a couple crossed the street with their two little girls heading for the ice cream shop. Something seemed familiar about that family, as if I’d seen them before. The hero in me dropped to its knees. Every superhero has their kryptonite, mine came with a lone chin hair. Seeing Jackson and Becca together again liquefied my self-esteem into a cape-less puddle of envy in the middle of the sidewalk.

  As I watched, Jackson held the door open for the girls to enter. He gave Becca a playful push as the door closed, locking them in and me out. The crazy thought passed through my head that maybe I should join them. In a matter of moments, I could be enjoying a tasty frozen treat while in the company of friends. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. Would they? Or would it be the most awkward moment in the history of all awkward moments?

  While my brain remained frozen with indecision, my feet took action and hurried me the opposite direction in a fit of speed walking that would have made Olympic speed walkers jealous. I couldn’t get away fast enough from the possibility of Becca and Jackson sharing a double scoop of rocky road. I suddenly found myself inside the hardware store owned by Ben’s father, holding a package of Hot Wheels cars for comfort. If only I could be ten again and spend my summer safe in the toy aisle.

  “What’s happenin’?”

  Ben gave me his typical annoying grin.

  “Nothing.”

  He took the package of cars and eyed them closely.

  “I see you found the new Flower Patch cars.”

  I grabbed the package back and looked more closely. The cars inside were shaped like garden bugs and painted to match. The ladybug car was especially cute, if only I was three and into flowers and cute little bugs. The package went back on the shelf.

  “Shut up.”

  Ben put a hand on my forehead.

  “Dude, you must be burning up. What sort of fever does it take to get into Flower Patch cars?”

  “A fever as big as your head.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  He had a point. But it was the best I could do given that globs of rocky road ice cream were dancing in the periphery of my vision.

  “I need to play Death Intruders.” Anything to get my mind off that ice cream shop.

  “Sure. I get off at four. Come to my house then.”

  By 4:00 p.m., I was a nervous wreck. Not only had I been unsuccessful in keeping my mind occupied while waiting, but I had to pass Becca’s house to get to Ben’s. Ducking low behind a line of cars on the far side of the street, I ran past like a soldier skirting an enemy outpost.

  After being chased by ravenously hungry zombies for a couple hours, I finally calmed down enough to help Ben polish off a bag of Cheetos.

  “I can’t believe your mom buys Cheetos.”

  “They complement the cases of orange soda in the pantry.”

  He had a point. Their pantry looked like an autumn sunset, all orangey on the lower shelves with hints of yellow at the top.

  “Don’t eat the corn chips,” Ben said, taking the unopened bag in my hands and putting it back on the top shelf. “My mom is saving those for a party they’re hosting this weekend.”

  “I should get home,” I said. “My dad’s making burgers again. He takes it personally if I don’t have at least two.”

  Ben showed me to the door. “I’m with ya. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”

  As I neared the corner, my eyes drifted up the cascade of flowers spilling down the rock-retaining wall leading up to Becca’s house. At the top, the porch swing swayed slowly in the breeze. Except there was no breeze, only Becca swaying back and forth, her bare feet lightly pushing off with each swing. The zombie warlord in my chest let out a strangled scream before clawing through my intestines in a failed attempt to hide behind my colon from the terror lurking above.

  Becca locked eyes with me but didn’t smile or wave. Instead, she seemed unsure how to respond to my sudden appearance. I was pretty sure if I held up a mirror I would find the exact same expression plastered on my own face. For the second time that day, I froze in indecision. Should I wave? Say hello? Or wait for her to make the first move? After all, I wasn’t the one hanging out with Jackson every day.

  Before I could decide, she got up and went inside. And that’s when the ugly reality hit me: things with Becca were messed up for real.

  The next few days dragged by in a low-hanging haze of awkwardness. At the store, an uncomfortable silence replaced the chatty gleefulness that had always been Elsa. I missed the old Elsa and her enthusiasm about the simplest things like what color crepe paper to order for the gift boxes or how to make the model in the display window seem cheerier
.

  All her moping also pretty much ruined any chance of her helping me with the nightmare my love life had become. Love life seemed a bit of an exaggeration. But the knot in the pit of my stomach felt otherwise. Every time I thought of Becca and Jackson together it felt like zombies were feasting on my internal organs. I shuddered to think what an X-ray of my abdomen would look like. Probably a pile of bloody pulp with a few rotted teeth still clinging to the remains of my liver.

  “Is the show still on?”

  The same question came up every time a customer entered the store. Each time the haunted shopkeeper known as Elsa would fidget from one foot to the other.

  “It’s been canceled this year,” she’d explain in a high quavering voice that sounded from beyond the grave. “Due to circumstances beyond our control.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame,” the person would reply.

  I would nod in agreement like the mournful cemetery keeper I had become. After days listening to Elsa’s voice, my nerves were frayed.

  “Is the show still on?” a lovely little lady in her seventies asked, staring innocently up at Elsa.

  “No,” I interrupted before having to listen to Elsa moan for the umpteenth time. “It’s not!”

  The shocked look on the woman’s face complemented the glare Elsa gave me.

  “What was that all about?” Elsa asked after the little lady shuffled out without looking back.

  “I don’t know. Why don’t we just put up a big sign that says, No show this year. Stop asking.”

  Elsa went to work refolding blouses on a display table.

  “It’s my fault. The least I can do is face our customers straight up. I’m not going to hide behind a sign.”

  “Well, that sucks.”

  “What sucks?”

  “You moping around the store every day. And everybody who comes in always being all disappointed. And this summer being pretty much the worst summer ever.”

  Elsa paused.

  “I didn’t realize the show meant that much to you. Is there something else going on?”

  I should have kept my mouth shut. “No.”

  She peered at me closer.

  “Just avoiding your problems doesn’t make them go away.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

  She idly twisted the collar of the blouse she was holding slowly strangling it.

  “I just said I’m facing the customers, not avoiding them.”

  “Really?” my voice rose to match hers. “Aren’t you hiding here every day when the show could still happen if you gave it a chance?”

  Elsa twisted the collar of the defenseless blouse further.

  “There’s NO possible way to save the show, and you know it!” she shouted. “Who are you to tell me about giving up? You’re the one who won’t talk to your own girlfriend.”

  “And you’re the one who broke up with Harley for no reason!” The words came out before I could stop them.

  The blouse dangled lifeless in her hands.

  “HOW DARE YOU CRITICIZE ME! I AM NOT A BAD PERSON!”

  “Well,” Diane said, barging through the front door. “Looks like I’m arriving just in the nick of time.”

  She marched over, took the blouse from Elsa, and smoothed out the wrinkles.

  “The two of you have been under a lot of stress. But things are about to take a turn for the better, just you believe me.”

  She set down the blouse and took Elsa under one wing. Elsa covered her mouth with one hand.

  “I’m—I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I—I haven’t been sleeping—and—and I just lost it.”

  Tears streaked down her cheeks. I checked my own to make sure I wasn’t copying her. The corners of my eyes felt like tiny fire hoses ready to douse my burning cheeks, but I wasn’t about to let that happen in public. “I’m all right,” I said, even though no one had asked the question.

  Diane motioned me over and swept me beneath her other wing.

  “You are two of the most amazing young people I have ever known. Everything is going to be okay.”

  She released us and headed for the front door.

  “C’mon, we’ve got a little adventure ahead of us.”

  Elsa gave me an is-she-out-of-her-mind? look.

  “What? But we can’t leave the store unattended.”

  Diane waved for us to follow.

  “Just this one time it will be okay. Your grandmother’s waiting in my car. Lock up and let’s go.”

  “I think it’s okay,” I said. “Just this one time.”

  Elsa considered for a moment before finally flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED and locking the front door.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m trusting you.”

  Great. I knew how that usually ended.

  Elsa and I sat in the back as Diane drove out of town into the countryside.

  “Where are we going?” Elsa asked.

  “You’ll see,” my grandmother replied.

  After a couple miles and a few more turns, we eased down a long gravel drive that brought us to a big red barn situated behind a picture-perfect farmhouse. In the old days, there had been a lot of dairy farms in Sequim. My dad says there used to be cows roaming everywhere. But that was a long time ago. All that’s left now are old cross rail fences trimmed with barbed wire, and a few dilapidated barns slowly slumping over.

  “Here we are!” Diane announced as we climbed out of her car.

  An elderly man climbed out of a fancy black BMW parked nearby. He wore a navy-blue sport coat and matching navy-blue slacks with brown dress shoes so polished they gleamed in the sunlight. He greeted my grandmother with a kiss on both cheeks.

  “My dear,” he said. “So good to see you again so soon.”

  “I think you know Stefan,” my grandmother said to Elsa. “He owns Town and Country, the men’s fashion store in Port Angeles.”

  He kissed both of Elsa’s cheeks.

  “Elsa, Rosemarie’s beautiful protégé.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, we’ve met.”

  A woman exited the house and approached.

  “Diane, lovely to see you!”

  She took us all in.

  “And I see you’ve brought everyone with you. Shall I show you around?”

  “That would be lovely,” Diane replied.

  The woman led the way into the barn. From the outside, it looked pretty much like any other big old red barn. But inside was a different matter. Everyone gasped.

  “It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” Diane asked.

  Wood beams soared overhead like some sort of medieval church. All the windows had been replaced with stained glass and the woodwork restored and oiled. Wagon-wheel chandeliers hung from the rafters and sconces with gaslights glowed warm orange along the walls. Fresh wood chips covered the floor and filled the room with a pine scent. There wasn’t a sign of hay bales, farm animals, or cow poop anywhere.

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  The woman giving the tour smiled.

  “We call it the Farm Cathedral. Took two years and most of our life savings to restore. We book it mostly for weddings. People come from all over to be married here. The cathedral can seat three hundred guests, and with the barn doors open, there’s standing room for at least a hundred more.”

  “And it’s available?” my grandmother asked.

  The woman patted my grandmother on the arm.

  “We had a late cancellation. I’m afraid not every wedding happens as planned. In this case, they gave notice too late for a refund. Lucky that Diane called me when she did! We’d be proud to host your show.”

  “Wait a minute,” Elsa interrupted. “What’s going on here?”

  “My dear,” my grandmother said, turning to Elsa. “The show needs to happen.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Elsa countered.

  “Honey,” Diane said. “It ain’t never too late for redemption.”

  My grandmother moved directly in front of Elsa and waited
until their eyes met.

  “The thing is people are counting on it. And you and I are not the sort of folks to let our disappointment get in the way of our duty to our customers. So, this is going to be the year you get your wish. We’re going to make this the biggest, grandest fashion show we’ve ever hosted.”

  The look on Elsa’s face changed from vacant stare to wide-eyed disbelief.

  “You want to do the show with Stefan?”

  “Yep. If my hip has taught me anything, it’s that change is part of life. I know in the past I haven’t been keen on the idea. But the store is going to be yours one day. It’s time I started opening myself to new ideas. Your ideas!”

  “But what about the models?”

  My grandmother turned to me.

  “We’ve got a new partner in this operation, and I think we should listen to what he has to say.”

  “You mean you’re okay using amateurs?” Elsa asked.

  “Not only am I okay with it,” my grandmother answered, “I think it’s a grand idea that will make the show unlike anything our customers have ever seen.”

  “I don’t know. An awful lot needs to happen in two weeks. Do you think we can really pull it off?”

  Diane put an arm around Elsa’s shoulders.

  “Just look around you, honey. In this place, anything is possible.”

  Elsa nodded.

  “Okay, if everyone’s on board. I’ll call the rental company and caterer right away.”

  The next few days flew by in a flurry of activity at the store. Elsa and Stefan met for hours selecting the outfits for the show. My father brought my grandmother’s sewing machine and set it up in one corner. And the new models stopped in continually to be fitted.

  “The new models aren’t quite the size of the models we were expecting,” my grandmother explained. “And when I say not quite the same size I mean it might be quicker to sew new outfits from scratch.”