Sierra Jensen Collection, Vol 4 Sierra Jensen Collection, Vol 4

by Robin Jones Gunn

  Sierra let out a nervous laugh and wished she had kept her mouth shut for once. Now she needed to explain. “I’m Paul’s … I mean, I know Paul. Paul Mackenzie.”

  Jalene’s eyes widened, but her smile still didn’t come.

  “He, um, I mean I … well, we met in England, and actually we were on the same plane when he was coming back from his grandfather’s funeral. I saw you at the airport when you picked him up. That’s how I know who you are. Paul told me. Your name, I mean. Paul told me you were picking him up.”

  A faint recognition came across Jalene’s face.

  Sierra laughed again nervously. “As a matter of fact, I loaned Paul the money to call you from London. He didn’t have enough change, and I was waiting to use the phone, and … well, that’s kind of how we met.”

  Jalene shifted the toddler to her other hip. “And Paul and you are together now?”

  Sierra had no idea how to answer that. She and Paul hadn’t defined their relationship. How could she summarize it for Jalene? Her pause and probably her involuntary facial expression must have told Jalene more than her careful explanation. “Well, my sister is engaged to Paul’s brother, and so that’s kind of the connection.”

  “Oh.”

  Panic washed over Sierra faster than she could compose herself. She wanted to run into the bathroom and hide her face from this scrutinizing former girlfriend of Paul’s. She didn’t trust her tongue not to slip and say something ridiculous, like how she had ended up at Paul’s old college accidentally one day and how she had seen Jalene at the gas station and then again in the parking lot and had watched her secretly and that’s really why Sierra recognized her.

  It felt bizarre to be face-to-face with this woman. This was the girlfriend Sierra had prayed Paul would break up with. And when they did break up, Paul had told Sierra his mother thought Sierra was an angel for praying so diligently. Sierra literally bit her tongue so she wouldn’t slip up and blurt out to Jalene that Sierra’s earnest prayers had quite possibly contributed to Paul and Jalene’s breakup.

  “Well,” Jalene said after an awkward pause had paralyzed both of them long enough. “Nice meeting you. Tell Paul I said hello when you see him.”

  Sierra nodded and tried to smile naturally. “Okay” was the only word she let slip out of her mouth.

  Jalene adjusted the little boy on her hip and lifted the white bag of warm cinnamon rolls from where Mrs. Kraus had placed them on the counter before going into the back. Two more customers had entered the shop, and now Sierra was at the front of the line. Sierra started to turn away from Jalene but felt the woman’s dark eyes holding her longer than necessary in their examination.

  The cat smile never came to Jalene’s lips. But the little boy in her arms made up for her coolness by granting Sierra one more heart-melting grin from his tilted head. Sierra waved good-bye to him, and Jalene turned and walked out of the bakery without looking back.

  “Ready for some tea, dear?” Mrs. Kraus asked when Sierra finally turned to greet her. “The girls have already picked up their tea and roll.”

  “Yes. I’d like to have some peppermint tea, if you have any more. I know we were out last Monday.”

  “I just received my tea shipments yesterday,” Mrs. Kraus said. “And this is my treat. Vicki told me it was the last time for you three. I’d like to treat all of you.”

  “That’s so sweet of you. Thanks. I also want a dozen cinnamon rolls before I go home, and those I want to pay for. It’s for breakfast tomorrow before we hit the road.”

  “You let me know when you’re ready to leave, and I’ll have them packed up for you.” Mrs. Kraus stepped away from the register to fill a little ceramic teapot with boiling water. Sierra looked down at the familiar counter with the tip jar next to the register. The jar had sat on the counter ever since Sierra had worked at Mama Bear’s and had a handwritten sign taped to it. The sign read, “If you fear change, leave it here.” And the jar was always filled with change.

  Sierra pulled a five-dollar bill from her pouch and tucked it into the change jar. Yes, it was symbolic of how she feared this change in her life, but it was also the least she could do for dear Mrs. Kraus, who had done so much for her. The world had never seen a more kind-hearted boss, and Sierra knew she would probably never again have such an enjoyable job with such a flexible schedule.

  Smiling her thanks when Mrs. Kraus handed her the teapot and cup with the peppermint tea bag, Sierra realized her tongue was sore. Probably from biting it too long while she was trying not to slip up around Jalene. Sierra walked over to the window table, swishing her tongue from side to side and then sticking it out to make sure it wasn’t swollen.

  “Oh, well, that’s real attractive,” Vicki said, watching Sierra approach them.

  Sierra made a goofy face, and Vicki and Amy both smiled.

  Smiling is a good way to start this time together, Sierra thought. I don’t know if I’m up for how things will most likely end.

  “Who were you talking to at the counter?” Amy asked. She was the analytical one of the trio, and Sierra wondered for a moment how much she wanted to say. Amy’s steady dark eyes locked in on Sierra’s blue-gray ones and seemed to pull Sierra’s free spirit down to the table, where all secrets were shared openly.

  Sierra took her time, sitting down and dunking her tea bag in the pot. She could feel Vicki staring at her, too, waiting for an explanation. Whereas Amy attracted attention because of her short, wavy dark hair and dramatic Italian looks, Vicki was even more attractive. She was, in fact, stunning. Her long, straight brown hair hung like silk from a center part, and her light green eyes were set like precious stones in her perfectly balanced face. Both of these friends had intimidated Sierra more than once with their piercing looks, and she knew if she glanced up from her teapot, they would both do it to her again.

  So she didn’t look up. She poured the tea into her cup and answered while gazing at her reflection in the steaming tea. “That was Jalene, Paul’s old girlfriend.”

  “Really?” Vicki said.

  “Why does stuff like that always happen to you?” Amy said. “I mean, what are the chances of your seeing her today, of all days, when you’re about to see Paul?”

  “I don’t know,” Sierra said, looking up. Her dad had often teased her when crazy things happened by muttering, “Only you, Sierra. Only you.” It seemed now that Amy was about to join him in his muttering.

  “Nothing ever happens just because it happens,” Vicki philosophized. “We’ve said that before, here at this very table. God-things are all around us. Every day. We just don’t always know at the time why they’re happening.”

  “Do you suppose,” Amy said quietly, leaning forward, “that God wanted you to see her and know that she was married and had a baby and everything so that you could tell Paul, and he would definitely be over her?”

  “I think he is over her. Long over. He’s never said anything about her,” Sierra said.

  “Why would he?” Vicki asked.

  “Did she ask about him?” Amy probed.

  “No, not really. She just told me to say hi to him when I saw him.”

  “So she knows you and Paul are together,” Amy said.

  “No, not really. I mean, I didn’t say we were.”

  Why not?” Amy asked.

  Sierra looked at Amy and then at Vicki. All she could do was shrug. “Because I don’t know if we are together. Not really. I mean, nothing has been defined.”

  “Well, it’ll sure be defined by Saturday when you see him,” Amy said. “And I hope you know it’s killing me that I’m not going to be there to hear all about it.”

  The same sadness that had been blowing over Sierra all afternoon rushed over her once more. Sierra and Vicki were going to be roommates at Rancho Corona University, but Amy wasn’t going to college with them. She had applied at the beginning of the summer but couldn’t attend because of finances. Her parents were recently divorced, and she hadn’t applied for financial aid
soon enough. The three friends had been excited when Amy had decided to apply to Rancho, so when she was turned down, they were devastated. They had formulated a plan for Amy to take classes at the community college and work as many hours as she could at her uncle’s restaurant. By next semester they figured she would be able to attend Rancho.

  “Just promise you’ll call me or e-mail as soon as you can and tell me all about it,” Amy said. Sierra could tell Amy was trying to be brave about everything.

  “I’ll still be here next week,” Vicki said. “At least the first part of the week. So when Sierra calls you, then you call me and tell me everything. Okay?”

  Amy nodded courageously. Vicki shot a glance at Sierra. Sierra couldn’t help it; tears were pooling at the corners of her eyes. All it took was the infallible law of gravity to pull them down her cheeks. For the next fifteen minutes, the three friends cried together.

  three

  SIERRA DECIDED it actually felt good to be on the road the next day. The steady bump-bumping of the tires as the van and trailer sped down the freeway meant she was done saying good-bye for a while. She was on her way to see Paul. The sadness could leave her now. She could concentrate on all the wonderful things ahead of her.

  But instead of concentrating on anything, all she wanted to do was sleep. She had been up nearly all night, even though she hadn’t planned on it. After the meeting time at Mama Bear’s, Amy, Vicki, and Sierra had decided to go to Randy’s house. Some other guys were over there when the girls arrived, and they all sat around looking at Randy’s yearbook, reminiscing about the good times they had had together at Royal Academy and complaining about how all they had done that summer was work. Sierra agreed that if she had it to do over again, she would have taken a little more time off from work instead of volunteering for everyone else’s vacation hours. She would have done something fun, like backpacking with the youth group the way she had the summer before.

  The unofficial end-of-the-summer party stretched into the night, and Sierra had called her parents to get permission to stay later than her curfew. Her mom had said that Paul hadn’t called, so Sierra felt no need to rush home. Once again, Mrs. Jensen seemed to understand how important this last good-bye was for Sierra.

  By the time she left Randy’s house, Sierra had hugged and cried and said good-bye one too many times. All she wanted to do was go home and crash. But when she got home, she found a note on her pillow from her dad saying they would be leaving early. They pulled out of the driveway at four in the morning, which meant Sierra had managed to squeeze in only a few hours of sleep.

  Now that they were well on their way, she tried to catch up on those missing hours of rest. The van’s motion cooperated with her goal, but her two little brothers didn’t. Gavin and Dillon slept only the first hour or so, waking up when Mr. Jensen stopped for a restroom break in Eugene. Now the seven- and nine-year-old boys were wide awake and making sure everyone else was, too.

  Sierra had made a little nest for herself on the backseat of the van with the extra duffel bags. What she wished she had were tiny duffel bags to stuff in her ears to block out her brothers’ noise. She and Wesley had made this same trek earlier that spring, when they drove down with Amy, Randy, and Vicki to check out Rancho Corona. What a different experience that had been!

  More than ever, Sierra was looking forward to being on her own, away from her siblings and in the company of her friends. She didn’t know if she should feel guilty for such thoughts or if it was a natural part of growing up and leaving home.

  Drifting into a restless sleep, Sierra tried to refresh her thrashed emotions. She knew for certain she needed them to be intact when she arrived in San Diego the next day.

  For a good part of the trip, Sierra did rest. Not deeply or comfortably, but she kept to herself and pretended to be asleep a lot more than she really was. Many times she turned down pleas from Gavin and Dillon to play a game with them. When Wes tried to convince her to trade places with him when he wasn’t driving, she reluctantly gave in. Instead of providing interesting conversation for her dad, she simply stuffed her pillow between herself and the door and tried to get comfortable enough around the shoulder-strap seat belt so she could sleep.

  What Sierra was really doing, while appearing to be sleeping, was daydreaming about seeing Paul. By the second afternoon of the trip, she had pretty much decided to run into Paul’s arms and hug him, regardless of who was around. That was, she decided, the true expression of her feelings for him, and she shouldn’t hold back. She played the possible angles over and over in her mind. What would she wear? What would Paul be doing when she saw him? Who would be watching them?

  Only a few times did the caution alarms go off in Sierra’s psyche. She had gotten carried away with emotional daydreams almost a year ago when she had read more into Paul’s letters than was actually there. But this was different. He had given her a necklace. He had a nickname for her. He said he was looking forward to seeing her. Surely she hadn’t exaggerated any of the feelings between them this time. She felt certain running into his arms and hugging him wouldn’t be an overdone response.

  Then, while they were stuck in traffic somewhere south of Los Angeles, the van’s air conditioner quit. The thick, smoggy, late-summer heat bulldozed into the van as soon as they rolled down the windows. Within three minutes in the sluggish traffic, they were all hot and grouchy.

  Mr. Jensen pulled off the freeway and drove into a gas station. They spent a miserable forty minutes there only to find out the problem couldn’t be fixed. At least not there and not then.

  “We have to get on our way,” Mr. Jensen said. “We’ll just have to endure life without air-conditioning and pretend we’re pioneers.”

  “Pioneers?” Sierra questioned. She knew she wasn’t trying very hard to be cooperative or cheerful in the midst of this annoyance. If she had been with her friends, she would have been Little Miss Mary Sunshine telling everyone else to cheer up. The truth about herself bothered her—and made her even grumpier.

  Crawling into the extreme heat of her backseat nest, Sierra insisted they keep the side vented windows open even though the left one rattled terribly. “It’s just too hot to close it,” she said. “You guys have to leave it open, or I’ll suffocate back here.”

  She tried to sleep. It was impossible. She sat up and tried to position herself so the most breeze came her way. That proved futile. So much traffic was on the freeway that the van wasn’t going much faster than twenty-five miles per hour, which was hardly enough to whip up a respectable breeze.

  All Sierra wanted to do was reach their destination. She drank the last bottle of water from their ice chest and half an hour later begged Gavin to give her some ice.

  Sierra leaned over the seat, waiting for her brother to pull a handful of ice from the chest and give it to her so she could rub it over her neck and cool herself down. Gavin scrounged in the small ice chest between the front two seats and said, “Hey, you can have this!” In a jerking motion, Gavin shot up, snapped his arm around, and attempted to offer Sierra the last can of root beer he had found at the bottom of the ice chest. But Sierra had moved forward while Gavin scrounged in the ice, and her face was in his line of fire. Before she could see it coming, Gavin’s fist and the cold can of root beer crashed into her face, hitting her under her left eye, right on the cheekbone.

  Sierra let out such a shriek Mr. Jensen slammed on the brakes. Wes quickly assessed the situation and began to give direction, telling his dad to keep driving, telling Sierra to stop screaming, and telling Gavin to put his seat belt back on.

  “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it!” Gavin kept shouting.

  “I know,” Sierra shouted back. She didn’t mean to shout, but in the midst of a painful black eye in the making, she found it nearly impossible to respond with anything lower than a yell.

  “She knows it was an accident, Gavin,” Wesley said calmly. “Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were trying to be nice and give
her the last soda. It’s okay.”

  Despite Wesley’s calming words, Gavin was crying as if he were the one who had just gotten clobbered. Sierra was crying, too, more from frustration than pain. She knew by the way her face was throbbing that she was going to have a doozy of a black eye.

  Wonderful. Just wonderful, she thought as her eyes smarted with tears. The perfect way to show up on Paul’s doorstep. I can’t believe this happened to me! Go ahead, Dad, say it. “Only you, Sierra. Something like this would only happen to you.”

  Her dad wasn’t saying anything. He was trying to change lanes without much success, and Sierra could see his aggravated expression in the rearview mirror. Wesley was directing him from instructions he had on a piece of paper. She knew the best thing to do was to sit back and not create any more trauma for the group.

  Taking a deep breath, Sierra picked up the cold can of root beer that had fallen onto the seat. She pressed it to her cheek, hoping the cold would at least keep the swelling down. A minute later she realized with irony that she was cooling off. The can was extremely cold, almost too cold to hold directly against her skin. That, plus the receding burst of adrenaline, cooled her off.

  “Gavin,” Sierra said calmly.

  He turned around and cautiously looked at her with moist eyes. For a moment he reminded her of the charming little boy Jalene had been holding at the bakery. All Sierra’s frustration dissolved.

  “Gavin, please don’t feel bad. I know you didn’t mean to do it. Wesley was right. You were being nice to me. It was an accident. So don’t feel bad about it anymore, okay?”

  Gavin nodded and said, “Okay.”

  Dillon, who had been watching the fiasco with the fascination of an onlooker at an accident, said, “Can we see it?”

  Sierra pulled away the can. She could feel her eye’s lower lid swelling despite the cold compress. Several years ago, Sierra had accidentally knocked out a janitor at an airport with only a can of orange juice in her hand. She now knew how the stunned janitor felt when she had moved closer to him for an examination of his bruise.