Authors: Carolyn Carter
“Great
dress,” he said. Before he hugged me, I stole a quick look at myself, silently
thanking the person who had taken the time to make me more appropriate. (
Rin
laughed.) It wasn’t exactly my style—black, ruffled,
and halter went together in my head like mustard, sushi, and peanut butter—but it
fit well, gave me girly curves I never knew I had, and Ethan seemed to like it
so I had no complaints.
“Why am
I here?” I asked Ethan. But someone else had stolen his attention.
“You
must be Gus!” Ethan was saying. He reached around me to shake his hand and I
took a wobbly step sideways, nearly falling off my four-inch platforms. I
glared at
Rin
, but she reminded me how great they
made my legs look and how much Ethan liked them—so I stopped snarling. “I’ve
heard about your amazing talents with birds,” Ethan went on. How he managed to
say that with a straight face was anybody’s guess. Ethan had a great memory. I’d
only told him once about my friends at the Station. It was when we were at
Poppy’s pond. Unfortunately, my memory wasn’t nearly as good.
“Some
might
call it a talent,” Gus chortled in
his German accent.
“And you
must be
Rin
!” Ethan went on. “You’re as beautiful as Hope
described.” I thought I saw
Rin
blush. “And you,” he
opened his arms wide. “I feel like I know you. You must be the one and only,
Creesie
Brown.” She giggled like a young girl. Evidently, I
had no idea of the charms that he possessed. “How can I ever thank you for
taking care of my girl?”
“Oh, we
love her, too!”
Creesie
muttered, still in the throes
of giving Ethan a rather exuberant hug. I wondered if I was going to need a
crowbar to pry him away, but after a few unsuccessful attempts on Ethan’s part,
Creesie
finally let him go.
“Come in,
everyone.” Ethan reached for my hand. “Let’s not keep the honored guest
waiting.” He lowered his voice for my ears only. “I think you’ll be
sufficiently surprised.”
“I think
I already am.” I cast an eye in
Rin
,
Creesie
, and Mac’s direction.
Just
past the foyer, we entered a massive room with a sleek kitchen to our left and
a casual family room to our right. It was elegantly updated; mostly white with
splashes of red everywhere, whitewashed timbers, and high-pitched ceilings. A
six-foot banner, attached by skinny green ribbons, hung from the exposed beams.
I kept trying to read all the messages scribbled on it, but dozens of pink and
yellow balloons danced along the ceiling every time a breeze blew in. I looked
harder between the balloons.
You’re back! Let’s go climbing! Brody . . . I
missed you, Hope!!! Claire . . . What took you so long? Love, Uncle Donald . .
. Missed my tomboy. Love you, Katydid. Dad . . . Did you enjoy your trip? Aunt
Dee and the Kids . . . Tyler
missed you terribly and so did we! Mr. and Mrs. A and Family . . .
Long time no see. Sophie Langley.
There
were also several messages from people I didn’t know as well as one from each
of my new friends. But Ethan’s was conspicuously absent.
Behind
their sentiments, big, cursive letters read: Welcome home, Hope!
Ethan
flashed an enormous smile. “What are you thinking?”
“I—where
do they think I’ve been? This is . . .” I got all choked up.
“I
thought you needed this. Show you all the reasons you ought to come back. It
was a little self-serving, but I wanted to remind you how many people love
you.”
“I do,
you know.” A sigh escaped. “I mean, I really do love you.” He kissed a sweet
spot on the side of my neck. I wanted to ravage him right then and there, but I
knew
Creesie
, Gus, and
Rin
were somewhere behind us. Ravage later, I reminded myself.
For the
first time since my arrival, I had a moment to look around. Past the inverted
sea of helium-filled balloons, I noticed that a retractable wall of glass had
been shoved aside, opening onto a huge patio. It left no separation between the
inside and the outside. I liked the look and feel of the place. Lavish but
livable. I’d seen this look before at Ethan’s apartment. Several dozen people
milled around outdoors, oblivious to my arrival.
“This is
another of Madeline’s creations,” Ethan said, watching me. “She bought it
because celebrities live nearby. I told you she isn’t very earthy.”
“This
can’t be . . . Boston?”
I was suddenly confused.
“Malibu. It’s one of Madeline’s
favorite places to visit. She likes the star sightings.”
“How
many homes do your parents’ have?”
He
laughed, then paused. “You’d have to ask her that. Buying and selling real
estate is what she does for fun. Some women like shoes. My mother likes property.”
A great
bear hug lifted me off my feet, forcing the air from my lungs.
“WELCOME
BACK, HOPE!” Brody shouted into my ear. I thought I’d gone deaf. I was still
wondering where they thought I’d been when Brody shouted again, “How was your
trip to Europe? And all those Europeans?” He
laughed a little. “Tyler
came up with a great joke, ‘
Ima-peein
. You’re-a-
peein
.’ Get it? The kid hasn’t come up with an opening line,
just the punch line. But I think he’s a natural—sort of following in his big
bro’s footsteps—if you know what I mean.”
Claire
glared at him as if to say
shut-up-already
,
but there was love in her eyes. If I remembered right, Brody had made up a
similar dumb joke in the first grade.
“Oh
yeah, and this one”—Brody made eyes at Claire—“is dying to hear about your
trip. She hasn’t stopped talking about you since she got here.”
I
glimpsed a laughing Ethan out of my peripheral vision.
I was in Europe
?
Claire
squeezed me in her stick arms after playfully shoving Brody aside. “Hope,” she
said, dragging out my name. “Why does it feel like you’ve been gone so long?”
I was
relieved that she didn’t know she was dreaming, that she didn’t recall where I
was in real life, or have any notion of how long I’d been gone. A pit opened in
the bottom of my stomach.
“I want
us to be close again,” she whispered. “Like when we were kids.” When she leaned
away, I could see that her eyes were wet.
“Sure,”
I told her, thinking of Monopoly games and dancing in her room. Were we about
to embark on a second childhood together? “Sure, Claire. I’d love that.”
“Really?”
She hugged me again. I wasn’t accustomed to this much affection from my aloof
but beautiful sister. She looked around, and seeming to realize where we were,
urged, “Come to the patio!” She reached for my hand. “Wait till you see this
spectacular view! Wasn’t it nice of Ethan’s family to fly us out here?” Then
she whispered so low I almost missed it, “Are they like celebrities or
something?”
“Or
something,” I said, rolling my eyes. What kind of convoluted story had Ethan
drummed up to make this visit more real? His parents had flown everyone out
here? And how had he managed to get everyone here at the same time? In the same
dream!
As we
drifted toward the patio, I lost Claire’s hand and grabbed Ethan’s (Brody was sidetracked
by a waiter’s platter of food, and Claire was sidetracked by Brody) and waited
while Brody made more selections. Ethan hadn’t stopped smiling. “You have
questions?” he asked. His voice was an irresistible mix of smooth and deep, and
as I looked at him, I forgot what I was about to say.
Then, it
came back to me. “How did you make this happen? Did you visit everyone in their
dreams?” He just kept smiling, a secret glistening in his eyes. “Ethan, isn’t
everyone dreaming? How did you pull this off?”
“Someone
recently told me you were very curious.” He placed a finger before my lips as
if to quiet me. “Yes, they’re dreaming. But we’ll get to the details later.”
“Someone
told you I was curious?” Only one person fit that bill, the same one who kept
reminding me of cats and death and curiosity. Had
Cat
spoken to Ethan?
We were
still waiting on Brody when a manicured hand squeezed my shoulder from behind.
I turned. The squeeze came from an elegant-looking brunette with stiff newscaster
hair. She had on a luxurious-looking, creamy-colored pantsuit. I recognized her
from the graduation photo on Ethan’s dresser. She flashed the briefest of
smiles, then planted an air kiss on each of Ethan’s cheeks. I’d never seen that
done before, except on television. I think my jaw was open. Ethan laughed under
his breath—at me.
“I’ve
been looking forward to meeting the girl who stole Ethan’s heart. And finally,
here she is.” She enunciated every syllable. I thought she sounded like Oprah.
Or maybe she just sounded rich.
“Hope,
this is my mother, Madeline. Mother, this is Hope . . .” Ethan gave my side a
gentle squeeze. I took it as a sign to keep breathing. I was more jittery than
I thought I’d be, but Madeline was intimidating. She had peering eyes that
reminded me of a bird of prey, a narrow beak-like nose, and a steady, unblinking
gaze.
As she
continued to peer at me, I said lamely, “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Have
you?” She wagged a painted finger at Ethan. “I hope it wasn’t all bad.”
Madeline
was still laughing with exuberance when a man with disheveled hair and
twinkling eyes strode up behind her. The older man embraced Ethan, then bent Ethan’s
head down so that he could kiss the top of it. Then he turned to Madeline and planted
a passionate kiss along collar bone. I blushed before she did.
“
Patric
!” She chastised lovingly, maneuvering just out of
lips’ reach. “We have a house full of guests!”
Patric
made no apologies for the lip service, but he did
apologize for being late. His heavy Irish accent was surprising, but lovely. Madeline
tried to smooth his hair. “It’s just the way it is, honey. There’s no helping
it.” He caught my eye then. “Ethan told us you were a beautiful young lady. You
must be his one and only Hope.”
My face
had to be as red as Madeline’s. Ethan’s dad was charming. Now I could see where
Ethan got it from. Some traits, I supposed, just transcended genetics.
Suddenly
shy, I mumbled, “Thank you, Mr. Reid.”
“Ah now,
go on and call me
Patric
,” he said politely. “That’s
what most everyone calls me on my good days. On my bad days . . .” he chuckled,
“Lord knows what they call me.”
“Hope—” Madeline’s
voice was softer and more girlish with
Patric
beside
her. “We haven’t heard how you and Ethan met. If you’re going to steal my only
son’s heart, I’d like to have the inside story. Ethan doesn’t do much telling.”
There
was a pause, seemingly long in my mind, then Ethan came to my rescue.
“Mother,
I’ve already told you . . . Hope is the girl of my dreams.”
“Isn’t
it the truth, son. Aren’t they all?” laughed his father. “Aren’t they all?”
“Where
are my manners?” Madeline suddenly exclaimed in surprise. “How impolite of us
to keep you from your family,” she said. “But one question before you go.” I
felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Would you mind telling me your
secret for avoiding jet-lag? I must say you look very refreshed.”
“Yes,
good question,” Ethan said seriously. “Tell us your secret, Hope.”
I
recalled Mom’s vanity at home, reminding myself that no one but Ethan knew they
were dreaming. To them, all of this was really happening. I stole a glimpse at
Ethan who was doing everything he could to keep from laughing.
“Oil of
Olay?” I muttered. Madeline pursed her lips as if this sounded unbelievable.
She was probably used to the pricier goat placenta crèmes.
“Go on
now. Enjoy yourselves.” Madeline motioned toward the deck, smiling now, the
charming
Patric
at her side. “There will be ample
time for catching up later. I’m looking forward to hearing a little more about
you.” She sounded like she meant it, and I saw that the harder edges of her
personality—and those peering eyes—had softened just a little.
Before I
moved an inch, I remembered my manners. “Thank you for this, Madeline. Thank
you so much.” I leaned in to hug her. Though she felt like a skinny strip of
cardboard, I caught a hint of something familiar on her skin. She smelled just like
my mother. “I can see how much you love your son,” I said softly. “I hope that
I can make him happy.”
“And how
could we ask for more?” Her voice was kind. “Enjoy!” she called after us. Brody
led the way to the outdoor deck, his hands full of two heaping plates of food.
Claire was behind him with two more plates. I was scanning their plates for
anything with sugar.
Once we
cleared the doorway, I heard reggae music bopping in the background. The
dee
-jay had set up behind the pool. There were dozens of people
milling around. Unless they were distant relatives that I’d conveniently
forgotten, I didn’t recognize any of them.
“Who are all these people?” I asked Ethan.
“Some
are your family and friends. Some are mine.” He looked smug, certain of his
plan. “That way when you really do meet them in person, something about you
will seem familiar to them. They might even ask if they’ve met you before.”
“Oh,” I
said with a laugh, “I definitely underestimated your deviousness.”
“You
have no idea.” He gave me a devilish wink.