Jumping Puddles (12 page)

There are exactly two places in town to get dinner. One, the restaurant, belongs to me. The other is a bar. I can’t bring myself to go to the restaurant yet, so we head to the local bar to grab some much-needed sustenance.

It’s after eight by the time we find it, and it’s crawling with locals. Picking a table near the back, Blake flags down a waitress and orders us food and drinks right away. Sipping my soda while waiting for our food to arrive, I listen to Blake tell me all about a class he thinks he’s going to fail. Apparently, his professor is pushing him harder than he wants.

“Don’t you have something in your stock that will work?”

“I don’t think so. I’d have to check. Most of my photos are of nature. He wants me to ‘think outside the box,’ whatever that means, and dig deeper. He basically told me he wouldn’t accept anything for my final project if there wasn’t a human form in the shot. I’m not sure what his deal is.”

“Pushing you is a good thing. He’s going to make you a better photographer. You brought your camera, right?”

“I’d never travel without it,” he blankly states.

“Why don’t you bring it with us tomorrow? You can take some candid pictures of the town, the people. Maybe you’ll shoot something that’ll be perfect for your project.”

“Not a bad idea,” he says, squinting his eyes as he thinks it over.

A band takes the stage just as we’re finishing our deep-fried dinner. We decide to stay and give them a listen. They’re not half bad. I recognize a few of the country songs they cover. I imagine this is how most bands get discovered: in a smoky bar, in the middle of no-where, by some random person in the audience that has connections to connections. For some reason, I have faith in this band and hope this is their moment.

Waking up the next morning, Blake is missing. I reach over to where he should be lying and find his spot empty, the sheet cold. He’s been gone for a while. I can’t imagine where. Looking at the clock, I see it’s only a little after eight. That’s five in the morning at home. No wonder I still feel tired.

The lock on the hotel door slides, and the door opens. I pull the sheet up higher, covering my naked body out of habit. I’m still not completely comfortable naked in front of Blake. At least, not when he’s fully clothed.

“Good Morning, beautiful,” Blake announces as he places a bag on the dresser.

I inhale, the smell of bacon and coffee wafting in front of my nostrils. “Did you bring me breakfast?”

“No. I brought you breakfast in bed,” he teases.

“Well, Mr. Collins, I think I like that idea.”

Blake passes me a cup of coffee and a handful of cream and sugar. Once I have my coffee just the way I like it, he gives me my breakfast sandwich and hash brown. We eat in silence, devouring our food in minutes. If I keep eating this amazing, greasy food, I’m going to gain weight before we get back on the plane to head home.

Home. I am home. Sort of.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“Huh?”

“I was talking to you, and you spaced out on me.”

“Sorry. I was thinking about getting fat from all this yummy food,” I state, motioning to the empty wrapper balled up on the bedspread in front of me.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get a good workout,” Blake promises with a wink. I’m pretty sure I turn red at the thought even though no one else is here to witness it.

“We should get going. I got a map of the town from the lady at the front desk. She was even nice enough to circle a few things for me.”

My heart sinks and my nerves go on high alert. He knows where my parents are. He knows how to get to them. He has a map of the town. The time has finally arrived. I felt confident I could face this—my fears were not going to get the best of me. I got on the plane. I made the trip. Deep down I knew the hardest part was yet to come.

“Um, sure. I need to shower first.” I hear the words coming out of my mouth and how small I sound, how uncertain. There’s no way he won’t notice.

“It’s going to be fine, Charlie. I’ll be right there with you if you want.”

He definitely noticed.

Climbing out of bed, I slowly move around the room, gathering my things. In the shower, I take my time. There’s no need to rush, after all. They’ll be there whether we get there in five minutes or five hours. Truth be told, I’m stalling. I know it, and Blake knows it when I finally emerge an hour later, my hair still a mess and makeup haphazardly put on.

That doesn’t stop him from pushing me forward, out the door, and into the car. Pulling out of the parking lot, I watch as the trees lining the street pass us by. Blake takes hold of my hand as he pulls the car to a stop. When I look over at him to ask why he stopped, I see for myself. Looking past him, out the window, is the entrance to the cemetery.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

Nodding my head, I know I need him for strength. Damn it. I never wanted to be this person. I’ve always relied on myself. It seems I’ve been relying on him more and more each day since Mr. Emeritt showed up at the house. I don’t like it, but I can’t change it. Not right now.

Pulling Blake to a stop just outside the gate, I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and pray I can hold it together. This will be the first time I’ve been to see my parents. I don’t remember coming here to bury them. I don’t remember their funeral. These are all things I’ve buried deep in the depths of my memory.

“You can do this.”

Opening my eyes, I find Blake looking at me with a confident smile. “I can do this,” I echo, finding my inner strength.

Hand in hand, we walk down the row of headstones. When Blake suddenly stops, I know he’s found them. Following his line of sight, I see a large granite stone a few rows up. The name ‘Hill’ visible from where we’re standing.

“It might not be them,” I whisper.

“Faith and Jeffrey?”

It’s them. I knew it had to be, but I was hoping it wasn’t. We found them quickly, quicker than I’d hoped. I want more time to adjust, to prepare. I have no idea what I plan to say to them, to their grave marker. It’s been such a long time, I don’t even know where to begin.

“Why don’t I wait for you in the car, Charlie? I know this is hard for you, but I feel like it’s going to be harder if I stay.”

After kissing me softly on the cheek, Blake walks away, leaving me staring at my parents’ headstone from a distance. He’s right. I need to do this alone. I need to conquer this fear. It wouldn’t be any easier if he were here listening to me. If I need him, he’s only a short walk away.

Slowly approaching, I run my hands over the stone, tracing the letters of my last name with the tips of my fingers, before taking a seat in the grass. There are so many things running through my head that the right words won’t come. So I sit in silence until the moment feels right.

“I hope you’re proud of me. I know you can’t tell me, but I’d like to think you are. I’ve been strong since you died, since Aunt Mary died. I got lucky, though. I landed with an amazing couple. They took me in, treat me well, and love me like I’m their own. You’d like them. Scott’s a doctor and Alice is a stay at home mom. Well, I’m the only kid, but you know what I mean.”

My emotions getting the best of me, I pause and collect my thoughts. I don’t want to talk about Alice and Scott. It’s too weird. Telling my parents about my new parents.

“I guess I should say thank you. Mr. Emeritt came to see me last month. He told me about your will. It looks like you’re still taking care of me in a way. I’ll be set for college and long after that. Aunt Mary did the same. Blake and I are headed to the house this afternoon. I’m scared to see it. I’m scared it’ll bring back memories of you guys that have been buried for years. I was so young. You were so young.

“But Blake will be there to hold me up if I falter. You would like him, too. He’s been an amazing friend, and well, I’m sure you know we’re more than just friends. I love him. One day, I hope we have the same kind of love you guys shared. The unconditional kind. It feels like we’re headed in that direction, but only time will tell. We’re still young and just getting started out in life. I know he’ll always be there for me, and I always want him there, here, with me.”

The tears began to flow freely as soon as I started to talk about the house. I changed the subject to Blake, but that didn’t stop them from falling. More than anything, it made me think of the way my parents used to look at each other, how they used to look at me. I remember how much my parents loved me, how much they loved each other. I can feel it, sitting here with them.

“So, I think I’m going to go now. I’ll be back before I leave town, I promise. There’s so much more I’d like to share with you.”

Pushing myself up off the ground, I trace the outline of my last name again. Looking over my shoulder before I pass through the gate, I envision my parents blowing kisses and waving to me. I know they’re not there, but I pretend they are and blow them a kiss back.

“That didn’t take long. Are you okay?” Blake asks the second I open the car door.

“Yeah, actually, I am.”

Confused by my demeanor and confidence, Blake gives me a speculative look before starting the engine and letting the car idle. “Where to?”

“I think I’m ready to go see the house.”

“Okay. Do you want to get something to eat first?”

My stomach growls on cue, causing me to laugh. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Back to the bar?”

“No. I don’t think I can handle that much grease right now. Why don’t we pop over to a neighboring town and see if we can’t find a diner or something.”

Five minutes outside of town, we come across a small restaurant already packed with lunch patrons. After waiting a few minutes for a table, Blake and I take our seats, browsing the menu while we wait. I count two waitresses running around and almost twenty tables. They’re both smiling as they move from table to table as if this is how things always are. Maybe this is normal. Maybe they’re good at hiding when they're overwhelmed. I’d be in a corner rocking back and forth right now from the pressure, so kudos to them.

After the peppy waitress takes our order, Blake decides to slide into the booth seat next to me. I can tell he’s up to something by the devious grin on his face but I can’t imagine what.

“Not that I don’t love practically sitting in your lap but…” I let my voice trail off, hoping he’ll supply me with answers to the question I didn’t ask.

“I just want to be close to you. We only have one more night here, and then we have to head back to reality. I figure I’ll keep you as close as possible until then.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I’m proud of you.”

That’s what I was looking for. I knew he left something out.

“I’m proud of me, too. Thank you for being there, or rather, not being there. I’d like to go back before we leave town tomorrow, you know, to say goodbye.”

“Whatever you want.”

I make Blake move back to his side of the booth once our food arrives. It takes some convincing, and a few jabs to the ribs, but finally he caves. I try to take part in our conversation, but my mind keeps wandering off as I pick at my salad. Finally, Blake gives up and focuses on his food. I feel bad, but only for a moment, because the waitress reappears with our check and my attention is drawn away again.

I offer to pay for lunch, which almost causes a fight. Blake insists since I bought the plane tickets, he should be paying for everything else. I know he can afford it, but that doesn’t mean I feel right about it. This was my trip, my idea. If he hadn’t pushed me on that plane, we wouldn’t be here. I should be picking up the tab. Blake doesn’t listen to reason, though, and I give in.

Pulling in the driveway of the house, I’m hit with a flood of memories all at once. I remember my mother teaching me how to do cartwheels in the front yard. My father taught me how to ride my bike at the park across the street. Millie and I used to picnic in the backyard whenever she came over to babysit.

“We had a dog,” I say, suddenly remembering the black lab that used to chase me around. “I don’t remember his name.”

“I’m sure it will come back to you in time.”

“How did I forget about my dog?”

Blake doesn’t respond. Instead, he gets out of the car and comes around and opens my door, extending his hand to help me out.

“Mr. Emeritt said he would leave you a key, right?”

“Yeah. Under the front mat.”

“Well, are you ready to go inside?”

Looking around one last time, I head to the front porch, bending over to retrieve the house key. It’s right where he said it would be, and there’s a note with it.

“What’s it say?”

“He says to keep the key. The house is mine, so I guess he figured I would be moving in.”

“Well, have you thought about it?”

“I need to figure out what I’d like to do after graduation first.”

“I thought you were planning to come to Santa Barbara.”

That’s right. We never did finish that conversation. “Maybe. That’s one option. Can we talk about the future later?”

“Of course. Let’s go inside.”

I slide the key in the lock, disengage it, and push the door open. The house looks as if someone is still living inside it. The furniture is old, outdated by more than a decade, but the air smells fresh as if someone’s just finished cleaning. I’m going to have to remember to send him a thank you note for keeping his promise to my parents. It’s the least I can do.

After checking out the house, including my childhood bedroom which looks as if a six-year-old still lives in it, Blake and I lock up the house and head back to the hotel. My emotions are in overdrive. I managed to keep it together while we were there. Now, as my memories are becoming clearer, I feel the need to let it all out, so I do. Thankfully, Blake holds me as I cry myself to sleep, calling out for my parents and the life that was stolen from me.