Letters from Becca: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel (20 page)

The doors slid closed behind him with a hiss.  John looked up at the interesting, colorful chandeliers, then glanced around as he walked.  The hotel was newly renovated, with modern art and assorted furniture strategically placed throughout their spacious lobby.  He walked up to the wooden reservation desk that stretched the entire middle of the expansive room.

“May I help you, sir?” the uniformed young lady asked with a cheesy smile.

John noted that the colors in her uniform matched the art and the furniture and carpet, a blend of bland yellows and oranges with sweeps of an even blander green.  “Reservation for John Montgomery,” he replied, handing her his credit card.  “Could you please tell me if a Becca or Rebecca Richardson has checked in yet?”

The woman tapped some keys on her computer, sorting through reservations.  “No, sir.  Could she possibly be under another name?”

“No,” he replied.  “But thank you for checking.”

The young woman handed back his credit card and his room agreement to sign.  “Are you here for the floral convention or the class reunion?” she asked with a smile.

John lowered his head and looked over his sunglasses with raised eyebrows.

“Right.  Class reunion,” she grinned.  “All checked in.  Here’s your key sir,” she said, handing him a small brown envelope.  “There’s a cocktail hour going on now in the lounge.  Maybe your friend is in there and just hasn’t checked in yet,” she offered.  “That will be room three eighteen.”  She pointed to her right.  “Go past the fountain and you’ll find the elevators on your right.  We hope you enjoy your stay.”

John tapped his key on the counter and smiled.  “Thank you, I’m sure I will.”

John walked to the lounge and looked through it without actually going in, his eyes darting about, looking for a familiar face.  With no luck, he opted to go to his room to change.

By the time he stepped onto the elevator an hour later, he had showered, shaved and changed twice.  He felt a little foolish, crashing a high school reunion.  Did they even check class lists anymore?  He pressed the second floor button, stepping back until he was leaning against the wall.  Would he even recognize anyone?  Would they even remember him?  He didn’t care.  There were only two people here he cared about seeing.

The elevator opened, and he walked into a different era.  Someone had gone to a lot of time and money to decorate in the style of the 1950s.  He smiled at people who smiled at him.  He saw that most of them had name badges, so he walked to a table where people were registering and getting their nametags.  A matronly woman smiled up at him as she looked at a flipchart.

“Name?” she asked, poised to flip to his alphabetical page.

“Montgomery, John,” he said.  Sometimes that military ingraining just doesn’t go away.

“Year graduated?”

John hesitated, “1959.”

“Hmm… I don’t see you here, but that’s okay.  You’re not the first person they left off,” she said with a smile.  “Here’s your badge,” she said, handing him a blank square sticker.  “Just fill in your name and your year.  “Did you pay by mail or were you paying here?”

John just looked at her.

“For the event, sweetie,” she said.

“I’m paying here,” he answered.  “How much?” he asked, taking out his wallet.

“Fifty dollars,” she said, writing his information down on her list under a long list of other names of those who hadn’t pre-registered.

John handed her the cash as he cast casual glances, his eyes still searching for familiar faces.

“Have fun,” she said, handing him a small stack of tickets.

“Thanks,” he smiled and walked into the decorated event hall.  John didn’t recognize anyone.  He definitely felt like a fish out of the water.  He preferred spending time at home with family and friends to being in big crowds.  Marissa had helped him out of his shell while they were together.  Actually, she dragged him out.  He was never uncomfortable because he was with her.  She always set him at ease.  But after their final breakup, just months before David’s death, he had simply crawled back in.  It wasn’t that he didn’t like big crowds so much as he just didn’t like people.

Two arms reached through his, and he looked down, smiling.  He squeezed her bangled arms gently.  Then John raised his arm as he turned, and she ducked under in precision with his motion, never releasing him, landing in his arms in front of him.

“So, you decided to crash after all,” she teased, narrowing her eyes.

“You
said
you’d be here, right?” he said, with raised eyebrows.

“You’re so full of crap.” She reached up as he leaned down.  What was meant to be a kiss on his cheek landed full on his mouth, and so she let it linger just a moment longer.  She followed the motion with a gentle wipe of her fingers.  He loosened his grip on her but kept his arm around her.  It felt comfortable.  It felt natural.  It felt right.

“I don’t recognize a single person.”

“And why would you?  You never come to these things.  And why?” She looked up at him with a wry smile.  “Oh, that’s right, you didn’t graduate from here.  You graduated somewhere else.”

John cut his eyes at her.  “Okay, so who do you recognize?”

Marissa twisted her lips as she looked around.  “That guy.”  Marissa pointed at a pot-bellied man wearing a gold ring and a gold chain and no hair.

John smiled down at her.  “Yeah?  Who is he?”

“How the hell should I know?  You asked me if I recognized him, not if I knew him.”  She grinned at John, taking him in.

After a moment of feeling her eyes on him, he looked down at her.  “What?”

“Hi,” she smiled.

John grinned.  “Hi, yourself.” He had memorized her face how many years ago?  He was amazed how much more beautiful she was.  “You look terrific,” he complimented, brushing her bangs from her eyes.  “Actually, better than terrific.”

“I do, don’t I?” she twirled in his arms, her short dress and heels accenting her gorgeous legs.

“I see you’ve stayed humble,” he chuckled, eyeing her up and down.  “And, by the way, yes you do,” he added, hugging her again.  “But you always did.”

She batted her eyes at him.  “Lot of good it did me,” she pouted.  “I’m surprised you even noticed me.”

“What’s not to notice?”  John turned her in his arms.  In her heels, she was almost as tall as he was.  He gently lifted her chin with his finger, moving so that she was looking him in the eye.  “While we were together, no matter where we were, you always turned heads.  Every eye was always on
you
.”

Marissa kept his gaze.  “Everyone’s but yours.”

John held her face between his hands.  “You
always
held my eye. 
Always
,” he repeated.

Marissa leaned within an inch of his face.  “Just not your heart.”  When John’s expression changed, her heart broke all over again.

“Ouch.”  John stroked her cheek before letting her go.

“Truth hurts,” she said sarcastically, taking a glass of wine from a passing tray and holding it up to him before downing the entire glass.  She watched his eyes search the room slowly.  “So, how have you been?” she asked coyly, hugging herself with her free hand.

“Okay,” he said casually.  “I’ve been okay.  You?” he asked, without looking at her.

“Oh, fine.”  She glanced his way and could tell she’d already lost him.  “The streets are tough.  Being out for all those hours, it’s hard on the feet.  And the pay is terrible.” Marissa reached her arms behind her and stretched.  “And it’s hell always working on my back.”

“Told you years ago you should have given that up,” he said without missing a beat.  “I hear the perks aren’t that great.”  He glanced over at her, the corner of his lips curling into a smile.

Marissa laughed and pointed at him.

“Didn’t think I was listening, did you?” John retorted.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in so long I thought maybe you’d been taken hostage.”

John looked down.  “Sorry about that,” he said sincerely.

“Yeah, I’ve heard things,” she said slyly, running her nail across her lips.

“Things?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Things I find hard to believe,” she said, turning to him again.  The band began
playing “I Only Have Eyes for You.” 
Marissa smiled, placing her glass back onto another passing tray.  She reached over and took his hand, slowly pulling him.

John cut his eyes at her, reluctantly tilting his head as Marissa batted her eyes again.  He smiled, nodding his head toward the dance floor.  “Okay,” John held up his finger.  “One dance.”

He walked past her, pulling her to the floor, wrapping his arm around her, holding her other hand close to his chest.

“Every time I see you…” he began, shaking his head, then looking over her shoulder.

“Every time you see me what, John?” she asked. 
Finish the statement, John
, her eyes pleaded.

John looked into her eyes and didn’t know how he could ever have walked away.  “Every time I see you I kick myself, and tell myself what a fool I was.”  He took a deep breath, holding her gaze as he held her closer.  “Every time I see you, I want to kiss you.  I want to hold you.  I want to go back and make right all the wrongs.  I want to tell you how amazing you are and how stupid I was to ever let you go.”

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek.

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me,” he finished.

“But?”

“But,” he laughed, looking up at the ceiling.  “But,” he said again, shaking his head.  “I was an idiot.”

“Was?” she asked, a smile creeping up the side of her lips.

John tilted his head.  “God, you’re beautiful.”

“No, that’s good,” Marissa motioned with her finger and her head, “but I want you to go back to the
‘I’m an idiot’
part.”

John laughed out loud as he slowly turned her.

“We were good together, weren’t we John?”

He nodded as he pressed his nose to hers.  “We were good together.”  He held her close, caressing her head as he held her.  Just as the song was ending, he whispered in her ear.  “Whenever I was with you, every time I was with you,
you
were all I ever wanted. 
You
were all I thought of.  You
always
had my heart.”

Marissa closed her eyes, another tear escaping from the corner of her eye as she dropped her head to his shoulder.  When the song ended, she allowed him to lead her by the hand from the dance floor.  She wiped her eye with her free hand as he dragged her behind him.  He grabbed two glasses of wine from a passing tray and handed her one.  He held up his glass.  “To great memories.”  John tapped her glass.  “We made some really great memories,” he smiled.

“Mmm,” she purred, sipping her wine.  “I remember you were really good in bed,” she grinned, reaching behind him and grabbing his butt.

John nearly choked on his wine.  When he stopped coughing, he laughed.  “It’s good to see you’re still uninhibited.”

“It’s one of the things you used to love most about me,” she said, sipping from her glass.

“That, and your eyes,” he said, brushing back her hair again with his hand.  “I could always lose myself in your eyes.”

“I only had eyes for you.”

John chuckled.  “Not always,” he countered.

It was Marissa’s turn to raise her brow.

“I hear things, too,” he smiled slyly.

“Do tell.”

“You’ve been married two times?”

“Don’t judge,” she said, shaking her finger.  “Yes, I married twice.  And divorced twice.  Neither lasted a full year.”  She knocked back the rest of her drink.

“What happened?” he asked sincerely.

“You mean what was wrong with them?”

John shrugged.  “Okay, I’ll bite.  What was wrong with them?”

She turned and whispered against his cheek.  “They weren’t you.”  Then Marissa kissed him ever so gently, with just a brush of her lips.  “So, why don’t you ask me?” she asked softly in his ear.

John looked into her eyes, confused.

“Where she is,” she replied flatly.

John looked away.  “She’s here?”

“Of course she is.  Or you wouldn’t be here.  Right?” Marissa added.  “She almost didn’t come.  I talked her into it at the last minute.  Though for the life of me I don’t know why.  She’s bunking with me.”

John turned to her.

“I didn’t tell her,” she said, narrowing her brow.  “I should have, but I didn’t.”

John looked at her, his eyes no longer holding the desire they did just moments before.

“But you should,” she said firmly.  “You should tell her.  Tell her the truth, John.”

John drew in a deep breath.

Marissa turned his face in her hands.  “You know I loved you then, and I love you now,” she smiled sadly, caressing his freshly shaven cheeks.  “We’re more alike than you even want to admit.  I spent all my life chasing you and then looking for you in someone else. 
Anyone
else.  But they weren’t you.  They were never going to be you.  You’ve spent your whole life chasing her, and you’ve yet to realize…” she said, drawing the words out for effect, “you’re not him.”  Marissa kissed him gently on his lips, brushing his cheek with her hand.  He matched her sad smile.  Marissa held his gaze for a moment.  Finally, she turned and walked away.