Beyond the Sea (12 page)

“Real life isn’t like that. Seriously, I’m banning the chick-flicks.” She smiled and shook her head. “But we are watching a horror movie.”

“See!” Melia grabbed her hand. “I told you!”

“Yea, but it’s too bad scary movies never scare me, ya know. Since I grew up seeing ghosts, the fake ones just don’t cut it.”

*

“You look amazing,” Peter couldn’t help but gush when Melia opened the front door. She teetered on her platforms trying to hold Wolfy back. “It’s ok. He’ll settle down if I say hi to him.” Peter braced himself as the nearly two hundred pound dog put his paws on his shoulders. He tilted his head back to avoid being slobbered.

Someone whistled from inside the house. Wolfy bounded away, knowing that the whistle was often accompanied by a treat. Peter paused inside the foyer, quickly debating if he should take his shoes off. Melia had hers on, but they were fancy and probably clean. He’d rather take them off. Peter took Melia’s hand. Nerves and excitement bubbled in his stomach as he stepped closer to kiss her. Even in heels, Peter was a few inches taller than Melia.

“You smell good,” she told him, breathing in his cologne.

“Thanks.”

“Come in, I want you to meet my family.”

The excitement melted and the nerves doubled.
Family? Shit. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Ok.” Peter hoped Melia stayed with him. He would get lost in this house.

“Good evening,” Charles said to them as they passed through the kitchen. He set a bowl down for Wolfy to devour.

“Hi Charles.” Melia smiled. “This is Peter.”

“Peter, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Peter said, feeling even more nervous as Charles’ judgmental eyes beat into him.

“What are you two doing tonight?” he asked, turning to the counter and slowly sliding a large butcher knife from the knife block. He turned it, the shiny metal catching the bright kitchen lights.

Peter swallowed. “Dinner and a movie.”

“Hm. Typical.” He ran his finger over the knife.

Melia practically jumped with excitement. “I know!”

“Your mother is out on the veranda.” Charles set the knife down. “Have fun. Treat her well and don’t keep her out too late.”

“Ok and I won’t.” Peter stumbled after Melia. Are all personal chefs that protective? He pondered that until Melia opened the glass doors and stepped outside.

“Mom, Edward, this is Peter.” She held his hand tightly. Edward and Nyneve were sitting on a rocking bench, both with a drink in hand. Edward had his arm casually draped around Nyneve. He stood and extended his hand. Peter had to pull his out of Melia’s grip to shake Edward’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Peter said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

“Please, call me Ed.” He smiled, his expression warmer than Peter expected. Edward VanBurren was a well known business man. Professionally, he was ruthless and cutthroat. Peter imagined him only wearing suits and ties. But here he was, holding a Corona, wearing khaki shorts and a Yankees tee shirt. “Melia’s told us all about you. Please, sit.”

Melia sat on a chaise lounge, and patted the cushion next to her. Peter took a seat at her side. She put her arm around his and held his hand.

“Hello Peter,” Melia’s mother spoke. She had a slight accent. Peter couldn’t place it. “I’m Nyneve, but everyone calls me Eve.” Peter nodded. His parents made his friends call them ‘Mr.’ and ‘Mrs.’ Nyneve was gorgeous; Peter could see where Melia got her good looks. “How are you doing tonight, Peter?”

“Uh, good. Excited.” He laughed nervously.

“The first date is the best,” Edward said, sipping his beer and looking into Nyneve’s eyes. “Do you remember our first date?”

“Of course.” She put her head on his shoulder. “You flew me on your private jet to New York for dinner.”

Peter turned to Melia. “I hope you don’t expect anything that extravagant.”

She shook her head. “I don’t like being that high in something metal. It’s unnatural.”

Peter laughed. “I guess so.”

“Well,” Edward started, “You kids have fun. Treat our Melia well.”

“I will,” Peter said as seriously as he could.

Melia hugged her parents goodbye. Her mother whispered something to her in another language. Peter pretended not to hear. He followed Melia into the garage where she held up a set of keys. “Do you want to drive it? I’m not good with the shifty thing,” she said.

“Which one?” Peter asked, his heart starting to race.

She pointed to a red 1969 Chevelle.

“Yes!” Peter blurted before it dawned on him how nerve-racking it would be. He looked admiringly around the garage.

“There’s more in New York,” Melia told him, watching Peter practically salivate over the cars. Boys like cars, Jamie had told her. “He likes to keep the classics here because the weather is nicer.” She was proud of her proper usage of ‘classics’. Jamie would be happy.

Speechless, Peter just nodded. He opened the passenger door for Melia before he got in. The engine roared to life. Peter slowly accelerated, navigating the winding driveway with more caution than necessary.

They spoke about family. Melia was curious to learn the traditions Peter’s parents instilled upon him. She didn’t seem to quite understand the point of Christmas, which seemed very odd to Peter.

Melia ate every last bit of her cheese ravioli. She and Peter shared a slice of tiramisu. They walked hand in hand back to the car. To Peter’s liking, they arrived early to the movie and were able to get seats right in the middle of the back row.
 
He asked Melia if she wanted popcorn and was a little surprised when she said yes. After that very filling dinner, Peter didn’t have any room left for popcorn. Melia curiously watched a group of six girls a few rows ahead. One stood up, saying she needed to pee and asked for someone to come with.

“Whatcha looking at?” Peter asked, seeing her thoughtful expression.

“Those people,” she said, pointing. “I’ve noticed it before. Human girls never seem to go to the bathroom alone.”

Peter laughed and agreed, and wondered why Melia said
human
girls. “Yep. Please tell me why you do that.”

Melia realized her slip up and blushed. “It’s a girl thing,” she said with a smile. She dug her hand into the popcorn and shoved a handful in her mouth, praying Peter didn’t think she was weird.

*

Jamie put her Jeep in park. She flipped on the dome light and checked, for the third time, the address written in Jeff’s messy handwriting. She looked at the mailbox; it was the right house. There were no other cars parked outside. Her heart skipped a beat.
Maybe Melia was right.
Then she looked at the clock and saw she was a few minutes early. She considered staying in the car a while longer but got out when she realized that it would look creepy to just be sitting there, doing nothing. She ran her hands over her hair. She had attempted to straighten it but she knew little pieces frizzed around her part. With a deep breath, she unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door and got out.

Jeff’s mom opened the door. She was talking on her cell phone and seemed impatient to be dealing with Jamie. Something hit Jamie as soon as she stepped into the quaint ranch. It was suffocating, infuriating, terrifying
,
and familiar. She closed her eyes and swore in her head. Jeff’s house was haunted. A tortoiseshell cat rounded the corner, meowing. It rubbed on Jamie’s legs.

“Hey kitty,” she said quietly. She scooped him up, happy to have a distraction. Jeff rounded the corner with impressive speed.

“Hey, Jamie!” he said, enthusiastically.

“Hi,” she shyly replied, petting the cat, who started purring.

Jeff looked perplexed. “That cat hates life. I’ve don’t think I’ve heard her purr once in the two years we’ve had her.”

“Really?”

“Yea. Her name’s Gretchen. She showed up on our porch two winters ago. She was just skin and bones; we all felt bad for her even though she’s nasty.”

“She’s not nasty!” Jamie laughed, following Jeff into the kitchen. She was finally beginning to feel comfortable around him when CJ and Rosemary let themselves in. Rosemary was carrying a plate of cookies.

“Hey Jamie!” she beamed. “I’m glad you decided to join us, though, I must warn you, the movies always suck.”

“And sometimes they’re not in English,” CJ added.

“Sounds interesting,” Jamie said, struggling to find her voice.

“That’s the point,” Rosemary explained. “We have a prize for whoever can find the worst movie. I’m in the lead as of last time. Have you ever seen
The Howlers
?” Jamie shook her head. “Trust me,” Rosemary went on. “You don’t wanna.”

 
Jamie offered to help Jeff make popcorn, eager to do something other than sit awkwardly. The pizza was sliced, popcorn dished out and drinks were filled by the time Elle and Zack arrived. Everyone grabbed a plate and a beverage and went down into the basement.

It was an unfinished basement. It looked creepy enough sans ghost. Jamie mentally swore, desperately wanting to call Melia and vent and ask for advice. The spirit was residual and would most likely leave her alone. Still, its heavy presence lingered in the air. There was no way she would be anything but on edge tonight.

Half the basement was just typical storage and the other half was set up like a living room, except none of the furniture matched. Jamie didn’t know where to sit. To her relief, Jeff waved her over and patted the spot next to him on the old, plaid couch. She sat down, careful not to spill her drink.

“I think I got you beat,” Jeff said as he stood to put in the movie. “
Slugs,
1988. The trailer was so horrible I thought it was a joke.”

And he was right. Everyone laughed throughout the movie. Jamie had fun, despite the ghost. Gretchen silently padded down the stairs just as the movie started and sat on Jamie’s lap the entire time. She helped clean up when the movie ended.

“Thanks for inviting me,” she said to Jeff as she fished her keys from her purse. “I had a nice time.”

“Glad you did.” He smiled. “Maybe you can host Horrible Horror Movie night sometime.”

“Maybe.” She smiled back. “Well, I’ll, uh, see ya at school Monday.”

He walked her to the front door. “See ya!”

Not the romantic goodbye she had secretly hoped for. She left Jeff’s house feeling elated nonetheless.

*

“Want to come in?” Melia asked.

“Yea,” Peter said enthusiastically. He slowly parked the expensive, fully restored car and got out, intending to open Melia’s door for her but she beat him to it. As soon as they were inside, Melia kicked off her heels, sighing with relief, and took off her jewelry. She accidentally dropped an earring and leaned over to pick it up. Peter admired her nice rear end, wondering what kind of underwear she had on, and almost didn’t realize she was talking. “Huh?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t care. Whatever you want to.”

“Ok.” She smiled. “Want to walk along the shore with me?”

Of course Peter agreed. Hand in hand, they slowly strolled the shore. The stars twinkled overhead; the waves sleepily lurched forward and then retreated on the sand.

“What was it like when you went skydiving?” Melia asked, letting go of Peter’s hand so she could leap into the water.

“Amazing.” He closed his eyes, recalling the rapid fall, the adrenaline rush, the fear, the excitement. “As soon as I looked down, everything inside me told me not to jump. Well, everything except this small little part that said ‘yes, do it’.” He looked at Melia. She watched him, transfixed. “It feels like you’re falling forever until you pull your parachute. Then it’s over. You feel weightless as you’re gliding back to Earth.
 
And the noise—the rush of air is so loud but at the same time you don’t hear anything. It’s crazy too, ‘cuz your brain’s telling you how dangerous and unnatural it is to be plummeting down that fast. But it’s fun and exciting and you feel so- so
alive.
Like I said, amazing.”

The passion in his voice, the way his speech got faster and faster as he spoke made Melia smile. His eyes wide, he looked up at the sky as if imagining sky diving all over again. Melia stepped out of the water and wrapped her arms around Peter.

Peter couldn’t help it; his heart still sped up, his stomach still flip flopped nervously at her touch. He couldn’t get over her beauty or kindness; the unique way she looked at the world or her never failing sense of optimism. He folded her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers.

*

“Melia, wake up!” Jamie said with a laugh as she threw a towel at her best friend.

Melia opened her eyes only to shut them quickly as the bright midday sun beat down on her. “I’m awake,” she replied groggily.

“You are now. I want to hear all the juicy details!”

Melia flipped over on her stomach and stretched. “Sorry, I’m tired.”

“Well, duh. You only got three hours of sleep. And, need I remind you, it was
your
idea to meet at the marina at eight-thirty. I would have been perfectly happy sleeping in. Now tell me details!”