Journey (8 page)

              “No, I insist.  I think I’ve intruded enough for one day, thank you.”

              I stand up, sure to keep a straight face, give a sharp nod, and walk out the house in relief.

Journey

After my strange encounter and uncomfortable reunion with Jack, I was a little shaken.  I’ve always been one to run my mouth at times, but never made to feel guilty about it.  I know I hurt his feelings and struck a nerve.  I feel a little tug somewhere inside of myself when I think about his icy stare as I left.   

              After I left Jack’s, I drove straight home, nursed my ankle, and nursed my ego.  I’ve always been friendly and able to crack even the most impervious and hardened personality.  

I spend Sunday cleaning and painting my cottage, but despite the obvious distractions, my mind keeps returning to Jack.  What is it about him?  I think I should send him a fruit basket with an apology note or a balloon bouquet.  I don’t know, but from what I saw, he would be more apt to pop every balloon before the delivery person could even hand them over.

It’s a crisp summer night and some fresh seafood sounds delightful to me.  I drive down to the city of Wells to visit the Maine Diner, which is where Teresa suggested I go.  It’s a quaint-looking building with a bar to eat at and a few booths around the room.  On the way in, I see a sign that says that the Today Show once visited here.  

              I sit at the bar where a friendly face, wearing a nametag reading
Joanna
, greets me.  “Welcome to the Maine Diner.  Have you been here before?”

              “No,” I reply.  “I recently moved here, but you all come highly recommended.”

              “That’s sweet.  Where do you come from?”

              “I moved here from Texas, but am originally from Connecticut.”

              “From way down south?  At least you’re from New England, so you know what weather to expect.  Where abouts in Connecticut?”

              “Greenwich,” I answer quickly.  I loved growing up in Greenwich, but there’s a certain stigma that comes along with it.

              “You must be from money.”

              Case in point.  I say I’m from Greenwich, and the response from those who didn’t grow up there is always something about money or powerful and famous families.

              “Kind of, but I moved away a long time ago.”  

              I open the menu and attempt to look it over.

              “You must be familiar with some of the more prominent families who vacation here.”

              “I am, but it’s been a really long time.”  

              It’s true.  I have been to many social functions, weddings, charity events, and the like with those families, but it’s not anything I brag about or that people who are from “old money” as my dad would call it and grew up in the circle think is anything special.  He was not so much a fan of those with “new money,” and often tried to avoid them as much as possible.  They seemed to be intent on making sure everyone knew they had money and status.  

              To be quite honest, I found some of them from both sides of the fence to be a little overbearing at times.  The thing about growing up in generations of privilege is that you don’t feel the need to flaunt it.  Also, my family was always determined to make sure that we had a life of our own and didn’t take what we had for granted.  Plus, if we did anything to mar our family’s good name and reputation, we could possibly be disowned.  I don’t care about being disowned from family fortune, but I do care about hurting the name my family spent years making and risking them not associating themselves with me anymore.  At least now I care.  There was a time period where tarnishing the family name was not so much of a priority.  Regardless, one thing that has never wavered is the fact that I love my family.  

              “What’s good here?” I ask Joanna to steer the conversation elsewhere.  

              “Everything’s good here.  Why don’t I give you a minute to look over the menu?”

              “That sounds like an excellent idea, Joanna.”

              I peruse the menu, which is huge, for some time.  Everything sounds tasty, but I remember what Teresa recommended- the seafood chowder and lobster roll, which is what I order.  The chowder is full of large pieces of lobster, scallops, clams, crab, and I don’t know what else, but it’s wonderful.  The lobster roll is simple: A toasted New England style hot dog bun, warm lobster meat, and drawn butter to pour over the top.  Simple, but delicious.  

As I eat, I hear Joanna talking to someone further down the bar.  “I know.  It’s a real shame, isn’t it?  That house used to be pristine.  It was one of the finest estates in the area.”

I wonder if they’re talking about the one I was nosing around yesterday that houses my long-lost Spring Break Fling, but it’s about 20 minutes north of here, so surely not.

“I can’t believe that he’s not going to give that house to the city so the Fosters can take it over and fix it back up.  It’s so sad how it looks right now.”

“I drove to the shore up there and saw what terrible shape it’s in.  You need a machete to get into there,” a man’s voice says.

“And their son…  I heard he’s actually back in town after years of traveling the world and living off of his family’s money, or so I’ve heard.  I guess he lives in there, but no one has seen him around town, which is just as well.  They are a horrible family, and he’s just as likely to be the same way.  He obviously doesn’t care about that place one bit,” Joanna tells the man.

My curiosity has been piqued.  I’ve always had a problem with keeping my nose out of others’ business.  “Are you talking about the big house in Kleinport?”

“Yes, ma’am.  You know it?”

“Yes.  Er...no.  Well, kind of...  I stumbled upon it yesterday.  Literally.  I twisted my ankle while I was looking around the house.  Jack was nice enough to help me inside and give me some ice for my ankle.”

Joanna, the man, and what I feel is about the entire restaurant halt their conversations and turn their heads toward me.  I hear silverware stop clanking and can feel eyes boring into me from every direction, and I don’t like it.

“You met Jack?” someone asks from behind me.

“Who?”  I look around trying to find the person who said it.

“Jack Croft- he’s actually back in town?  And he was at the house?” the man talking to Joanna at the bar asks.

“Oh?  I guess I did.  Rather, I suppose I did.  He didn’t exactly give me the warmest of welcomes, but he did say that he lives there.”  I begin to shake my foot nervously.  All of this attention on me is unsettling.  “He was very handsome.  I was snooping around.  It was my fault I fell, actually.  He just kind of surprised me.  Not much of a talker, though…”

I look around to see that I was right- everyone has stopped what they’re doing, and they’re all intently listening to me as if I’m telling them of the meaning of life.  I’m really uncomfortable now and need to divert attention elsewhere.

“So...does anyone know of a cheerleading squad in need of a coach?”

Conversations pick back up, and people go back to their meals as Joanna walks back over to me.  I relax my posture and pick up my breathing from where I had left off when everyone focused on me.

Joanna eyes me and is looking at me strangely, but sticks to my change of topic.  “I think the high school in Kleinert is looking for a volunteer coach.  There was a little drama with their last coach.  They’re all very good and come so close to winning the big competition each year, but are missing a little umph, you know?”

My body lights up in excitement.  “Really?”

“That’s what I heard, but I will need to double check.”

“Let me give you my card, Joanna.  Feel free to text, call, email, whatever, if and when you find out.”

“I sure will,” she says, looking down at my card.  “Dr. Ferrer.”  

“You can just call me by my first name, Journey.”

“Where did the name Journey come from?”

“I’m really not sure.  My mother says she met a beautiful little girl on the beach one day long before I was born whose name was Journey, and she always liked it.”

She places my check on the counter and leans in toward me as if we are about to pass secrets.  “What did you think of Jack Croft?”

“Honestly, at first I thought he was very much like someone with whom I was acquainted in my past, but I was wrong.  I didn’t really have enough interaction to form an opinion.  He’s extremely good-looking, that’s for sure.”

“Is he?  I’m not surprised.  His father and mother were both very handsome people.  They weren’t the nicest people around, or at least that’s what I’ve heard, but a very nice looking family.”

“What do you mean, ‘not the nicest people’?”

“Oh...never you mind.  I’m just gossiping.  You’ll find that people do that a lot around here.”

“Don’t worry.  I’m a little used to it.  Thank you very much, Joanna.  It was a pleasure to meet you.  I hope to see you in here again soon, and don’t hesitate to come see me at my office if you ever need any medical attention.”

“Will do, Dr. Ferrer- Journey.  It was a pleasure.”

Journey

Back in the office on Monday, I’m very busy.  The potato salad from a church’s picnic was left to stew in the sun for a while and is not staying long in people’s tummies.  Anyone who’s had food poisoning can attest to how miserable it is, so add about fifty people to that, and it makes for a pretty crappy Monday.  No pun intended.  

              “Drink lots of clear fluids and maybe stay away from dairy and mayo for a while,” I tell Mrs. Sinclair, who swears to me she will never touch potato salad again.

              The funny thing about food poisoning is that you never forget what you last ate and caused you to feel that way.  I liken it to when a certain alcohol, like tequila, makes you sick and you swear that you will never, ever drink it ever again.  Yet, somehow you wind up going back to your vice.  It may take a long time or extreme circumstances for you to indulge in it, but eventually, we forget why we left it alone in the first place.

              “Whoo wee!” Teresa exclaims as we disinfect the office.  “I can’t believe anyone even touched that potato salad.  I saw it sitting out there and warned them, but a bunch of people said they heard mayo spoiling was only a myth.”

              “Actually, nowadays mayonnaise isn’t as toxic being out of the refrigerator since it doesn’t have raw eggs or anything in it.  I think this is a case of eggs that were past their prime sitting in a hot temperature.”

              “Either way, I am counting my lucky stars today that I didn’t touch the stuff.”  

              I smile at Teresa, letting her know that she is lucky.  “Oh, did I tell you I tried the Maine Diner?”

              Teresa’s eyes light up.  “Wasn’t it the best?”

              “The seafood chowder was like an orgasm in my mouth!  And the lobster roll?  Are you kidding me with that tastiness?”

“Who waited on you?”

“Joanna.  She was very friendly.”

“She is.  She will always treat you right when you go in.”

“I mentioned to her that I am open to coaching a cheer squad and she is supposed to check with someone because she might know of one who needs a coach.”

“Joanna knows everyone and all of their business.  I’ve heard that the high school is looking for one, though.”

“That would be amazingly cool!  I miss cheering so much.”

“Did Joanna have any other gossip to share with you?”

“Not really.  Although, it seemed as though they were very interested in some of my gossip.”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I happened upon someone who is of interest to everyone.  I guess he recently returned to this area after a good while away without contact with many people here.  Jack Croft?”

Teresa’s head whips up.  “Jack Croft?  What do you know about him?”

“Nothing, really.  I didn’t even know that he lived there until he invited me inside.”

“You were in his house?  I’m not following.”

“On Saturday, I drove to Kleinport, saw the house with its overgrown foliage and got nosy.  He came out and startled me, so I tripped trying to leave.  He brought me inside, gave me some ice, and tried to help me to my car, but I refused.”

“Is he as rude and stuck up as everyone says he is?”

“No.  I don’t really know.  He didn’t talk much.  He was a little gruff, but I know he’s not a cold person.”  
And his eyes…They’re the dreamiest, golden brown eyes I’ve ever seen
.  I used to get lost in the thought of them all of the time

“Yoo-hoo!  Earth paging Dr. Ferrer.”  Teresa waves her hand in front of my face.

“Oh!  I’m sorry.  I just got distracted.”

“I’ll say...  Where are his parents now?”

“In a home.  No one knows exactly where Jack went or when he came back.  No one has seen him for years.  He practically abandoned his parents and put them into the care of the Fosters, a wonderful family here, and let the house go into ruin.”

“Oh.”  My smile droops.

None of this sounds like the Jack I know.  Or knew...once upon a time ago.

“Don’t forget that the reporter from the local gazette is supposed to come and interview you for the paper tomorrow.”

“I completely forgot!  Thanks for reminding me!”

***

Midway through the day on Tuesday, as I am looking through some files, in walks a young, petite, blonde girl with a smile as wide as the sea and blue eyes to match.  She breezes through the waiting room with an air of confidence that seems to fill the entire building.  Approaching the check-in desk, she gets Teresa’s attention who looks to her and smiles.

“Is Doctor Ferrer here?” the young lady inquires.

I step toward the desk, introducing myself.  “I’m Doctor Ferrer.  How can I help you?”

She pulls her shoulders back, standing a little taller, and directs her toothy smile toward me.  “I am looking to make a little bit of money this summer and was wondering if you needed someone to put away files and do some general clerical work.”

I admire her assertiveness.  “Actually, I am looking for someone.  Do you have a moment to chat?”

“Absolutely,” she beams.

“Let’s go into my office, shall we?”

The young lady relaxes her shoulders and seems to breathe out a sigh of relief.  “My name is Jenny Foster, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jenny.  Is that short for Jennifer?”

“Nope, I’m just Jenny.”

I smile and chuckle to myself to which Jenny responds with a befuddled look.  “I’m sorry.  What you just said reminds me of something someone used to say.”

“Oh, no worries.”  

We continue walking past the exam rooms and into my office.  I think of my days in Cabo, when my relationship with
Just Jack
was simple and the times we were together, joyous.  

It must show on my face that my mind has wandered off to yesteryear because Jenny interrupts me asking, “Is that someone a special one?”

I jerk my head back to look at her and nervously dart my eyes about the room.  “Huh?”

“The someone who used to say something that you just remembered- judging by the look on your face and quick trip away from the present, he must be special.”

“I wouldn’t say he is special.  He’s just someone I spent a few spring breaks with.”

“So, it is a he…  I know I’ve only known you for about two minutes now, but there’s something about the expression your face just made...  This guy clearly holds a special part of your heart.”

She’s quite bold for someone so young.  And wrong.  She’s what, the ripe old age of- “How old are you, Jenny?”

“Seventeen, going on eighteen.”

Seventeen?  Wow.  She’s awfully young to have such a strong sense of feelings.  I clear my throat and press forward.  “What grade are you in?”

“I’m going to be a senior this year.”

“Excellent.  Do you do play any sports or participate in any activities?”

“I’m a cheerleader.  Actually, this year, I’m the head cheerleader, but I don’t know that it will matter much since we don’t seem to have a coach anymore.”

              Everything seems to be bizarrely coincidental.  I needed someone to help with filing and the front desk, then she manifests herself in the form of a cheerleader who is in need of a coach.  “How interesting,” I say.  “I happen to be an experienced coach in the market for a squad to teach.”

              Jenny raises an eyebrow.  “You’re kidding, right?”

              “Why would I kid about that?  I was a cheerleader in high school as well as in college.”

              “Who did you cheer for?”

              “University of Kentucky.”

              “No way!  They are one of the best programs in the country!  Looking at you, you must have been a flyer.”

              “Correct.  I’m going to guess you’re one as well.”

              “Yes siree!”  Jenny’s eyes brighten and excitement shows throughout her face.  “Ohmigosh!  We NEED you, Doctor Ferrer.  We’ve been so close to winning regionals and going to Nationals, but always seem to miss the mark.  This year, the squad is stronger and more talented than ever.  I really think we have a chance.”

              I’m just as excited as she is.  I’ve missed coaching so much.  I did some during med school, but during my residency, I had to give it up due to long work hours, special functions, and a needy fiancé.  “Who can I contact about this?”

              “Mr. Nations is the school’s Head Principal, and he’s the guy to tell.  But, don’t worry, I will let him and the girls know.  I bet he will call you before you get a chance to call him.”

              “That’s fantastic.  And about the job, you’re hired.  I’ve needed a clerk.  Just a half day Monday through Friday.  Can you start tomorrow?”

              “Yes, that’s perfect!  I’m so happy that I met you!  We can talk more about the squad tomorrow.  The girls are going to be beyond excited!”  Jenny stands and gives me a big hug.  “Thank you Doctor Ferrer!”

              “You can call me Journey.”

              “Well, I will call you Doctor while I’m here at work, but any other time, I won’t.  So, thank you for everything, Journey.”

              “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

              “You have no idea, but you so have.”

              Jenny spins around, whirling her golden hair with her, and practically skips out of my office.  

              I return to the front desk to talk to Teresa.  “She’s going to help us with filing and taking appointments starting tomorrow,” I inform her.

“That’s nice of you.  She’s a cheerleader.”

“I know.  We talked about that too.  I’m going to coach their squad, I think."

“Wow!  That’s impressive.  Do you know who her parents are?”

“No.  Should I?”

“The Fosters have a long-standing tradition of raising star athletes.  Every single one of them excels in something, and they are all just as naturally beautiful as the next.  The Fosters were one of the first families in this area.  The Crofts were too, but the Crofts are not as generous with their fortune as the Fosters are or as involved in the community.”

I think about the buildings and parks I've seen around town and realize that the Foster name is everywhere.  Foster Elementary, Foster Park- you name it.  I guess that’s what some people mean when they say Jack and his family aren’t as great of people.  

Teresa continues, “The Fosters are crazy wealthy and powerful around here.  I envy their lives.”

“Really?”  I never thought to be envious of those with wealth whose lives are fulfilled by dollar signs and possessions.  “It’s all smoke and mirrors.  They’re not impervious to pain and suffering because they have money and prominence.”

“Yeah, but they have the money to fix everything and can pay to make it better.  Plus, they really are a happy family.  No one ever gets into trouble, they don’t cause problems, and seem to all be successful.”

“Granted, I have never met them, but I wouldn’t be so sure about those beliefs, Teresa.”

“Well, you’re about to meet one now.”  Teresa nods toward the front door where in walks none other than Jack’s old friend, George Foster.  I wonder if he's just as much of a snake in the grass today as he was many years ago.  At least I know to be on my guard.

George casually moves in our direction, dressed in slacks, a bold, lime green dress shirt, and an even bolder, brightly colored, plaid tie.  Teresa is transfixed by George, but he doesn’t seem to notice her.  Ugh, he’s just as pompous as he ever was.  

“Journey,” George greets me as he flashes his snidely smile at me.

“Doctor,” I correct him.  I very rarely request anyone address me with my title, but George’s presence rubs me in all the wrong ways, and I kind of want to make him address me with respect.

“Ah, yes.  Congratulations on completing medical school.  That’s quite an achievement.  I trust that Kleinert is treating you well.”

“Quite, thank you.”  Teresa continues to gaze dreamily at George.  “This is my right hand woman, Teresa,” I say, gesturing between the two of them.

Teresa extends her hand, but George only acknowledges her with a curt nod.  His rudeness does not phase Teresa, she continues to stare at him as if he is a revelation.  

“It’s been a long time.”  George settles on his heels in front of me, and his aura makes me feel ill.  

“It has.  Are you unwell?  Can I help you with something?” I ask tersely.

“No, actually I’m here to interview you for the paper.  Did she not give you the message?”  He motions toward Teresa without so much as looking in her direction, which has me fuming.

“
Teresa
did give me the message, I just didn’t realize it was you who was conducting the interview.”  If I had known, I probably would have turned it down.

“I assume that she failed to mention that I’m the Editor-in-Chief of the paper?”