Letters from Becca: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel (11 page)

John looked up to find Becca standing at the entryway to the newly renovated diner.  The smile in his heart crept to his lips as he watched her lean around other guests, turning as she searched for him.  He raised his hand and waved.  Becca spied him and suddenly that beautiful smile he had memorized years before grew upon her fair face.  She walked excitedly down the aisle.  With every step, her smile widened.  The bright afternoon sun shone through the large plate glass windows that walled the street, highlighting her hair and slender frame through her flowing thin angel blouse.  She had no right to look this good after three kids.  Most women he knew with kids were dressed in boring print shirts with their hair styled to the latest matronly hair choice.  That’s what he had expected.  It had been at least one year and one kid ago since he’d seen her.  He was pleasantly surprised.

John stood as she neared, and she rushed into his arms.  He swung her around as he hugged her close.  She felt better than she should in his arms.  He slowly released her and she stepped back, eyeing him up and down.

“You look good,” she said with an approving smile.  She sized him up, raising her eyebrows at his sense of fashion.

John felt self-conscious and nervous.  He had told himself it would be no big deal seeing her again.  And yet, it took him twice as long to get ready, and he changed clothes three times, settling on an off-white polyester short sleeve pullover with green and orange geometric shapes and jeans.  She held his hands and stepped back as he eyed her up and down.  She was almost as tall as he in her platform sandals.  Her bellbottoms seemed made to compliment her svelte body.  He smiled and shook his head, drawing in a deep breath, unable to even say the words.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting his stunned silence as a compliment.  She slid into the booth opposite him and leaned forward onto her arms.  “I hope you didn’t have to wait long,” she grinned.

John wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.  “No, just got here a few minutes ago,” he smiled.  His eyes couldn’t help but wander.  Her wavy auburn hair was pulled back under a blue and white bandana, her ears adorned by large sterling silver hoops.  She wore a long chain necklace with a peace sign that dangled between her breasts and hung at the tip of the plunging neckline of her sheer blouse.

Becca searched his face.  One year seemed like an eternity, and yet he didn’t look like he’d aged that much—maybe a little more worn under the eyes, and a darker afternoon shadow.  She looked at his arms as he leaned forward on the table as well.  He’d been working in the sun, his skin and hair darker than she remembered.  His hands looked calloused, but gentle.  When she looked up, his eyes caught hers and she blushed.  “You know, I expected your arms would be in casts.”

John looked at her, perplexed.

“You haven’t written me back in so long I expected that you were incapacitated.  At least when you were still seeing Marissa, you were better about writing back or at least calling.”

“Because she made me.”

Becca narrowed her brow.  “Always brutally honest, aren’t you?” she added flatly.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled sincerely.  He looked down as his finger drew invisible circles on the flecked table.  “You know I’ve never been as good as you were at keeping in touch.”  He looked back up at her.

Becca batted her eyes.  “No, you aren’t.”  Her eyes met his.  “But I forgive you.”

A waitress walked up, patiently waiting until they were through talking.  “May I get you something to drink?” she asked, before handing them two menus.

Becca looked up at her.  “Coke, please,” she replied before handing the menu back to the waitress.  “I know what I want.”

The waitress took the menu and tucked it under her arm.

“Cheeseburger, cooked medium, mayonnaise, lettuce and tomato only.  Onion rings fried extra, extra, extra crisp,” John interrupted.

Becca tilted her head with a slight nod, “You remembered.”

John handed his menu to the waitress as he smiled up at her.  “Cheeseburger all the way, cut the onions, and French fries, please.”

Their waitress took his menu as well, before writing their selections down.  “Coming right up,” she said with a smile, without even looking at them.  As she walked away, John and Becca turned back to each other.

“What else do you remember?” she asked coyly, leaning onto her arms again.

“You loved climbing trees and braiding your hair with flowers.”

Becca’s smile grew.

“You would pretend to gather all the eggs just so you could save a few baby chicks.  Then you’d watch over them until they would hatch.”

“What else?” she inquired, sliding her arms forward.

“I remember that you loved riding horses and your bike,” he replied, watching her eyes while he spoke.  “But you were terrified of learning to drive.”  A small smile curled up on the side of his mouth.  “And you like to sunbathe topless in your backyard while the boys are napping.”

Becca swatted his arm and laughed, “Marissa told you that!”

“Yeah, she did,” he said mischievously, sliding his arms nearer to hers.

“I remember you were afraid of the dark, but you loved laying out on the hay looking up at the stars and trying to figure out the constellations.”

“Because I felt safe with you,” she smiled before narrowing her eyes at him.  “I do remember you used to make up constellations like Leopard Priestess and Chango.”

John’s smile grew.  “You were so gullible.”

Becca leaned closer until their arms touched, her chin resting on her arms.  “I trusted you.”

John looked deeply into her soft brown eyes.  How long it had been since they had been this close?  He could smell and feel her sweet Doublemint-gum-breath against his lips.  He sat back slowly and grinned.  “No harm, no foul,” he claimed, as he stretched his arms across the back of the booth.

Becca sat back as well.  “I remember things too.  Like the time that you sneaked into my room and hid in my closet all night, just to scare me the next morning?  But you fell asleep, and I ended up scaring you.  Or how about the time that you put peanut butter in my shampoo bottle?”

John smiled mischievously as his eyes met hers.  They both smiled.

“You were always so much fun,” she reflected.  “Marissa said you definitely kept life interesting for her.”

“Okay.  You keep bringing her up,” he sighed, his smile fading, as he casually looked around.  “So, have you heard from her?”

“Every week,” Becca replied, watching his eyes avert hers.  “You know, letting her go was the worst thing you could ever have done.”

“Here we go,” John rolled his eyes.  “Marissa tell you that, too?”

“She didn’t have to.  I call ‘em as I see ‘em.”

John drew in a deep breath; then, exhaled.  “Yeah, well, she had that one big thing that just kept holding her back from following her dreams.”

“Yeah,” she asked sarcastically.  “What was that?”

“Me,” he answered sincerely.

“You’re so full of it.”  Becca shook her head and leaned forward again.  “She’s still crazy about you,” she said matter-of-factly.  “Even though, for the life of me I can’t understand why,” she added with a wry smile.

“So, why didn’t David come?” John asked, changing the subject.

Becca looked down at her hands, her smile fading slightly as the waitress arrived with their Cokes.  After she departed, Becca looked back up, but out the window at nothing in particular.  “He hasn’t been feeling well lately,” she said with a sigh.  “He doesn’t get out much right now.”  She squinted her right eye against the bright sun coming through the window.  “Ever since the accident, he’s just been so discouraged and frustrated.  He hurts all the time.”  Her eyes and her hands went to her soda.  They toyed with the moisture on the side of the glass as she spoke.  “The doctor has him on so many pills, he just never feels like doing anything anymore.”

Becca was the most positive person he knew, and yet, she wore the concern like a mask that felt uncomfortable.  Her true emotions wriggled behind the facade, dying to emerge.  But he knew her better than he knew anyone else.  He saw through the forced smile, saw the way her eyes averted his own.  He reached across the table and put his hand on hers, taking it from her glass.  “Becca?”

She finally looked up at him and he could see her eyes welling with tears.  As her eyes met his, the tears slid down her cheeks.  She laughed at her embarrassing display and wiped them away.  “Sorry,” she said, blowing her nose in her napkin.  “I just hate seeing him so miserable.”

John pulled his hands back and nervously rubbed them on his faded Levis again.  “When I saw him in January, he seemed good.”

Becca wiped the wetness from her face.  “He was,” she agreed.  “But then he had that stupid accident, and he’s never been the same since.”

David had been driving an eighteen-wheeler rig for Southern Pacific on interstate runs for the past three years, since returning from his last tour in Vietnam.  His Uncle Richard, a dock supervisor, hooked him up with the job, and he did weekly runs all over the US.  He had confided to John how much he hated being away from Becca and the kids, but it was good money.  If they could just tough it out for another year, they would have enough to buy a bigger house, with a fenced yard for the kids.  The two-bedroom was all they could afford at the time.  They had put most of the monies from the sale of the family farm and Betty and Jimmy’s home into college funds for each of the boys.  The rest, they used as a large down payment on the two-bedroom they currently lived in.  David was prideful and wanted to provide for his family himself.  He didn’t want the estates to be their sole support.

The next week, a car ran a red light directly in front of him.  It takes an average long-haul truck carrying a load and going sixty miles an hour the length of a football field to stop, plus two or three more seconds for reaction time.  David was fully loaded, and moving at 60 miles an hour when he T-boned a van carrying a family of four, killing everyone.  It had been devastating for him.  He didn’t talk to anyone for days until Becca finally coaxed him into talking to John.  It was the only time John had ever heard David cry.

John remembered Becca’s phone call telling him of his friend’s accident.  He could hardly understand her through the sobs.  John couldn’t get away from work to come to San Antonio, but he called Becca at least twice daily for updates.  After a week, she was finally able to coax David into talking to him.  The accident left him with a neck and back injury.  But that was the least of his problems.  The memory of hitting that car, compounded with his time in Vietnam, was giving him worse nightmares.

John took Becca’s hand between his, giving her the time she needed to compose herself.  He squeezed her hand gently.  “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about this.”  Becca shook her head, took her hand from his and wiped her face again.  “I didn’t even say anything to Marissa.”  She looked up, as if it would keep the tears in.  “He doesn’t do anything with the boys anymore.”  Her eyes dropped back to his.  “He does nothing, or all he does is work on that damned car.  How do I tell everyone that there’s no such thing as a fairy-tale marriage?”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

Becca turned back to him.  “Would you?” she pleaded, reaching for his arm.  “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Of course I will,” John nodded.  If he’ll talk to me.”

“You’re the only one he talks to, John,” she smiled weakly.  “You’re the only one he trusts.”  She leaned forward on her arms again.  “You’re the only one I trust.”

John’s heart broke for her.  He could see the pain in her face, hear it in her voice.  “I’d do anything for you,” he hesitated a beat, “and David.”  He took her hand again.  “You know that, right?”

Becca nodded and drew in a deep breath.  She turned and looked out the window at a group of small children playing in the park.  John’s eyes never left her.  He couldn’t bear to see her hurting.  Suddenly he felt guilty for not having kept up with them better since the accident.  These were his best friends, and yet, he had allowed them to drift out of his life again.  Just like Marissa.  He studied her profile as she stared out the window.  She was more beautiful as a woman than he ever imagined.  And she was the mother of three young boys and the wife of his best friend.  He welcomed the distraction when the waitress arrived with their food.

They looked at each other, each waiting for the other to take the first bite.  Becca smiled, picked up her burger first and took a big messy mouthful, trying to keep things from falling out, but not succeeding.

John laughed.  “I see you kept your appetite,” he said, before taking a bite of his burger.

“Yeah, well, you try keeping up with three rambunctious boys,” she mumbled, hiding her full mouth behind her hand, then stuffing an onion ring into it.  “I need all the energy I can get.”

“How are they?” he asked.

“They are good.  Growing like weeds,” she replied before taking another bite.

“I got them each something,” he said.

Becca wiped her mouth.  “They don’t need toys, John,” she said with her mouth full.  “What they need is to get to know their Uncle John.  You haven’t even met William,” she added, cramming another onion ring into her mouth as she spoke.