That night Andie walked out on the beach to bring in the lounge chair, but ended up sitting in it to watch the moon rise again. Its reflection on the water, shifting back and forth, was ethereal, the color of melted vanilla ice cream. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her crossed legs, breathing in deeply the sweet ocean air. Her years of numbness had begun to fall away like so many leaves in autumn, and she reveled in the simple act of enjoying a warm night without thinking too much about the change. The sound of waves lulled her once again, and she fell asleep on the beach.
She was pacing in a small, dark building, one candle in the corner barely lighting the walls. It was a hut of mud and straw, and she was not alone. Two other women huddled together on a pallet on the floor, weeping quietly. Why was she not crying too? She felt a burning need to get outside somewhere. There was somewhere she needed to be. Why wasn’t she already there?
“I’m going,” she said.
“Alayne, no!” The younger of the two women leapt up and ran to stop her. “You cannot! You KNOW that! He forbade you to go! And with reason!”
“But how can I stay here?! There’s got to be SOMETHING we can do!” And at that, she fell against the wall and did cry, clutching her stomach. For she knew there was, truly, nothing. After a moment she gathered her composure; he was counting on her to remain strong. He would know. She stood again and moved into the dim light. There was no window from which to watch the night; they could not risk being seen. She leaned over and blew out the candle.
The other women fell asleep. She looked with fondness toward where they slept in the darkness; they had been through so much, this mother and daughter who had welcomed her into their family with gladness and warmth. And now their son and brother was being killed as a sacrifice to some god their people had never even heard of until a short time ago. Now they cowered in fear at the mention of the name Balaam. Balaam. There were stories of gods times past who demanded the sacrifice of human blood. But no life had been given in the years since the eldest could still recall, and the stories were myth for all she cared. Enter the sorceress Talar, who dazzled them with flashes of fire and windstorms even the birds could not anticipate.
Something made her stand quickly, like a whisper in her ear. She listened for the breath of her companions; they were sleeping soundly. She slipped out the door and looked around. The forest was quiet. Too quiet. No owls, no insects chirping, no wind rustling the leaves. She stood straight and still for a moment with her eyes closed to her surroundings, then slipped soundlessly through the trees till she came to a small clearing. She climbed onto a rock within the protection of the forest where she could crouch and peer unseen over the heads of the fearful crowd gathered there, and saw him then, bloody, chest heaving. She clenched her teeth against a crashing wave of emotion and watched.
He turned his head then toward the audience, such as it was, and looked over them to the trees where she waited. An eternity passed in seconds and Alayne rose and stood on the rock, having no fear of being seen any longer, knowing no one would turn to catch her. The sorceress was chanting incoherent syllables that gradually came louder and faster till she raised her arms to the sky and lightning shot out of the clouds, felling a tree beyond the altar.
She saw him look to the sky a heartbeat later, never giving her away, and close his eyes to gather strength for what was to follow.
Then he opened them to the stars.
A moment later she was running back through the forest, every fiber of her existence pushing her forward and quelling the scream that was building from the bottom of her very soul. At the same time she wanted nothing more than to run back to the scene of fire and hold his limp body in her arms forever. She stayed away from the hut, in case a sound broke through her silence, heading for the safety of nowhere in particular. An hour later she was in another valley. Near a rock wall she fell to her knees in a cry that tore the night apart and knocked a star from the sky.
Andie shot forward in the lounge. Her heart was pounding.
“Are you all right?”
She looked up. The man from Cravings.
“Yes,” she put her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry; how do I know you?”
“UPS at your service, ma’am,” he smiled. Recognition broke over her face.
“Of course. Out of place I can never remember …”
“It is Andie?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think we’ve really met yet. I’m Gryphon.” He reached his hand out, and she shook it. “Are you OK? You don’t look so good.”
“Yes, thank you, I’ll be all right. I just had a strange dream.”
“That’s some dream to shake you up like it looks like you’ve been.” He cringed at his own words. “Did that make ANY sense?” he laughed.
She smiled. “Yes.”
“Maybe you can tell me about it sometime.” He smiled and began to walk away. He turned back once more and waved a little wave.
Andie looked at the water a few more minutes, still groggy from sleep, before going in to bed.
Did that mean he’d be back?
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Your Cheesy Bookstore Romance Pt. 8
She opened the cabinet in the bathroom to put away her things and found a bottle with a pale blue ribbon tied around its neck and a tag with her name on it. “Indulge,” it read. Signed “GG,” with a smiley face. She grinned. Mrs. Graves was so sweet. She always knew what would do Andie good. All-natural bath oil, lavender scented. Andie opened the bottle and breathed deeply. She replaced the stopper and set it back on the shelf. But shortly after her things were put away, she was running hot water in the tub. Turtle moseyed in to find her after a bit. Once she realized she was starting to doze, she pulled herself reluctantly from the comfort of the bath, wrapper herself in a thick robe, and made her way into the bedroom.
She woke at 3 a.m. to find herself still in the robe, the duvet wound around her. She stopped to look out the window as she dug for her nightgown in the dresser; the moon had set, and the stars shone like so many laughing children. The sight over the quietly rolling ocean took her breath away. Once back in bed she slept deep and long. The late hour on the clock when she opened her eyes startled her, and after stretching, she laughed out loud. Turtle ran in and leapt onto the pillow, having finally heard her stir. He nuzzled her face and purred sweetly, but she refused his charms and lay in bed awhile longer, enjoying the feel of it, knowing there was dry food in a dish in the kitchen.
Avery’s new friend balked at the name. “GRYPHon? Sounds like a monster!”
“That’s because I am!” Uncle Gryphon assumed the Monster Stance and chased after the screaming 4-year-olds. When they splashed into the waves, he picked them both up and spun them around, falling into the wet sand with them scrambling to get away, unable to stop giggling.
Then they begged him to do it again.
“Wheredja get your name, anyway?” little Benjamin asked.
“I found it.”
This puzzled the child. “Huh?”
“I found it. It was up in a tree I was climbing one day, looking kind of lonely, and I took it down and used it.”
“You don’t get names from trees.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d you get yours?”
Benjamin thought about it. “A seashell. It was in a shell I found one day.”
“Awesome. Avery?”
“My dog’s butt.”
Gryphon and Benjamin burst out laughing. “Your dog’s butt? Your dog’s butt?” Gryphon repeated as he scooped the boys up again and went running headlong down the beach.
Time to try on the new contact lenses. This was where the princess emerged, right? When they glasses went into the drawer? It was mostly for convenience; she’d brought regular sunglasses instead of her usual clip-on lenses. She’d been meaning to try them for a while, anyway. She’d felt like she needed a change, and she needed to start small.
Out on a lounge she stretched in the sun. She’d forgotten how wonderful it could feel. She lay with her eyes closed, feeling its golden hue as it warmed her skin, oozing over her like syrup, enveloping her in the embrace of an old, watchful friend who wanted only to see her happy. It was just so right, so perfect, with the slightest breeze coming off the ocean and the quiet rushing sound of the waves, that she felt like this was the only place she would ever need to be again. She felt like she could move mountains. What was it about the ocean and the sun that combined to create the perfect setting, to draw the deepest smile, the most contented heart?
He emerged from the waves, hair strewn over his shoulders, water sliding off his skin, his mouth twisted in a wry smile. Oh, he had ideas. He had something in mind all right. He knelt before her and walked his hands up along either side of her body, up to support him as he hovered over her. Water dripped onto her legs and stomach. “Sorry about that,” he murmured. She could barely find breath to speak.
But she didn’t have to, because that’s when she woke up. “Oh my Lord,” she breathed heavily, her hand to her collarbone.
She got up and headed inside for some lunch just before a man escorting a flock of children made his way past.
Turtle sat on the counter, watching her make a turkey sandwich, knowing there would be a crumb for him at some point. They both looked when they heard a meow at the screen door; a scrawny cat scurried away at Turtle’s quick hiss. When Andie went back outside it was with a small dish of cat food and a bowl of water. Turtle would stay in for the afternoon.
She brought her things in and walked into town to browse. She bought an elephant necklace for Mrs. Graves and a brightly colored tin drum bungalow for herself. A black cat sat in one of its windows.
Her last stop was Cravings, for a strawberry-banana frozen yogurt waffle cone. Five kids were at the counter ahead of her, all together, with a somewhat harried-looking man at the center of their swarming mass. What a thing to tackle, she thought, getting five kids to pick and settle on ice cream cones in less time than it took to build a small home. She smiled as she watched him maneuver. Actually he wasn’t doing too bad; a brown-haired 5-year-old was reaching out her hands for a sugar cone topped with peanut butter fudge, and there was only one to go. Their shepherd turned toward Andie as he responded to a tug from the littlest; she thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place where from. Finally everyone had their dream cone, including him; he thanked the girl behind the counter sincerely and stuffed several bills into the tip jar. She smiled, waved off this thanks, and told the kids to come back tomorrow. Andie laughed silently at the instigation in the invitation.
As the group headed out the door, the man’s eyes met hers; his brow furrowed unconsciously as he tried to figure out how he knew her. He smiled quickly anyway. She blinked and managed a small smile in return, and he was gone. She ordered her waffle cone. “Can I also get a cup of water?”
She walked the two miles home smiling. What a wonderful day it was. The rest of the week was supposed to be just as beautiful, and she swung her canvas bag in merry thanks to nature.
It was buying Time magazine at an outdoor newsstand that brought 2 and 2 together for Gryphon: that bookstore in Orlando, that one near the good Indian place. The bookish bookseller who for some reason had intrigued him one day. Well, he was glad to see she was taking a vacation.
Wasn’t her hair different?
She woke at 3 a.m. to find herself still in the robe, the duvet wound around her. She stopped to look out the window as she dug for her nightgown in the dresser; the moon had set, and the stars shone like so many laughing children. The sight over the quietly rolling ocean took her breath away. Once back in bed she slept deep and long. The late hour on the clock when she opened her eyes startled her, and after stretching, she laughed out loud. Turtle ran in and leapt onto the pillow, having finally heard her stir. He nuzzled her face and purred sweetly, but she refused his charms and lay in bed awhile longer, enjoying the feel of it, knowing there was dry food in a dish in the kitchen.
Avery’s new friend balked at the name. “GRYPHon? Sounds like a monster!”
“That’s because I am!” Uncle Gryphon assumed the Monster Stance and chased after the screaming 4-year-olds. When they splashed into the waves, he picked them both up and spun them around, falling into the wet sand with them scrambling to get away, unable to stop giggling.
Then they begged him to do it again.
“Wheredja get your name, anyway?” little Benjamin asked.
“I found it.”
This puzzled the child. “Huh?”
“I found it. It was up in a tree I was climbing one day, looking kind of lonely, and I took it down and used it.”
“You don’t get names from trees.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d you get yours?”
Benjamin thought about it. “A seashell. It was in a shell I found one day.”
“Awesome. Avery?”
“My dog’s butt.”
Gryphon and Benjamin burst out laughing. “Your dog’s butt? Your dog’s butt?” Gryphon repeated as he scooped the boys up again and went running headlong down the beach.
Time to try on the new contact lenses. This was where the princess emerged, right? When they glasses went into the drawer? It was mostly for convenience; she’d brought regular sunglasses instead of her usual clip-on lenses. She’d been meaning to try them for a while, anyway. She’d felt like she needed a change, and she needed to start small.
Out on a lounge she stretched in the sun. She’d forgotten how wonderful it could feel. She lay with her eyes closed, feeling its golden hue as it warmed her skin, oozing over her like syrup, enveloping her in the embrace of an old, watchful friend who wanted only to see her happy. It was just so right, so perfect, with the slightest breeze coming off the ocean and the quiet rushing sound of the waves, that she felt like this was the only place she would ever need to be again. She felt like she could move mountains. What was it about the ocean and the sun that combined to create the perfect setting, to draw the deepest smile, the most contented heart?
He emerged from the waves, hair strewn over his shoulders, water sliding off his skin, his mouth twisted in a wry smile. Oh, he had ideas. He had something in mind all right. He knelt before her and walked his hands up along either side of her body, up to support him as he hovered over her. Water dripped onto her legs and stomach. “Sorry about that,” he murmured. She could barely find breath to speak.
But she didn’t have to, because that’s when she woke up. “Oh my Lord,” she breathed heavily, her hand to her collarbone.
She got up and headed inside for some lunch just before a man escorting a flock of children made his way past.
Turtle sat on the counter, watching her make a turkey sandwich, knowing there would be a crumb for him at some point. They both looked when they heard a meow at the screen door; a scrawny cat scurried away at Turtle’s quick hiss. When Andie went back outside it was with a small dish of cat food and a bowl of water. Turtle would stay in for the afternoon.
She brought her things in and walked into town to browse. She bought an elephant necklace for Mrs. Graves and a brightly colored tin drum bungalow for herself. A black cat sat in one of its windows.
Her last stop was Cravings, for a strawberry-banana frozen yogurt waffle cone. Five kids were at the counter ahead of her, all together, with a somewhat harried-looking man at the center of their swarming mass. What a thing to tackle, she thought, getting five kids to pick and settle on ice cream cones in less time than it took to build a small home. She smiled as she watched him maneuver. Actually he wasn’t doing too bad; a brown-haired 5-year-old was reaching out her hands for a sugar cone topped with peanut butter fudge, and there was only one to go. Their shepherd turned toward Andie as he responded to a tug from the littlest; she thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place where from. Finally everyone had their dream cone, including him; he thanked the girl behind the counter sincerely and stuffed several bills into the tip jar. She smiled, waved off this thanks, and told the kids to come back tomorrow. Andie laughed silently at the instigation in the invitation.
As the group headed out the door, the man’s eyes met hers; his brow furrowed unconsciously as he tried to figure out how he knew her. He smiled quickly anyway. She blinked and managed a small smile in return, and he was gone. She ordered her waffle cone. “Can I also get a cup of water?”
She walked the two miles home smiling. What a wonderful day it was. The rest of the week was supposed to be just as beautiful, and she swung her canvas bag in merry thanks to nature.
It was buying Time magazine at an outdoor newsstand that brought 2 and 2 together for Gryphon: that bookstore in Orlando, that one near the good Indian place. The bookish bookseller who for some reason had intrigued him one day. Well, he was glad to see she was taking a vacation.
Wasn’t her hair different?
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Your Cheesy Bookstore Romance Pt. 7
“How am I going to go on?” Gryphon barely breathed the words.
Lilly got a job offer in Orlando and tried to persuade her ailing, heartsick brother to move south with her. It had been three months now, and he was still pale and drawn. He was constantly sick to his stomach and had lost weight.
“Honey, please go,” Katherine urged. “My heart breaks all over again to see you like this.” And so he did. He didn’t care much where he was or where he went anyway. His family knew he had to get away from this place, had to break the chain that tied him to his wife and child by leaving the place that did nothing but remind him, every aching moment of every long, empty day, that he was alone.
* * * * * * * *
“Mom got some new pictures from Evelyn.” That was his ex-mother-in-law, who understood the pain her daughter had caused. She did what she could to see that Gryphon knew something of Joy, who was now 11 years old. “She’ll send them soon.”
“Good.”
“Are you OK?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it the dreams? Are you getting any sleep?”
He shrugged. “Enough.”
“You don’t look it, sweetheart.”
“Maybe this vacation will help.”
Lilly thought over what she was going to say next. “Have you thought about … going back to marine biology yet?”
“Some, yeah. I think I need a little more time. Don’t want to deck anyone again too soon.” Lilly smiled.
As he got out of her car she wished him sweet dreams.
Gryphon shook himself out of his momentary stupor and found himself staring at the mousy bookseller behind the register. His eyes lingered a moment longer, caught by a slip of hair that has slid loose from her bun. As she began to turn in his direction, he looked quickly to the shelf before him, snatched up a book that had an interesting cover, brought it to the counter, and finally mumbled thanks and managed to smile as she handed him his change. “Reading on the job?” The corners of her mouth twitched in what he supposed might be a smile of some sort. “Just a little at a time,” he answered. “Not enough to affect my job performance.” The corners twitched a little further for a split second. He smiled himself and thanked her again.
Jess followed him into the back room and out the door, according to store policy, and smiled to herself as he drove away.
If only, she thought as she walked back toward Andie.
Gryphon found himself wondering about her life, the mousy bookseller’s. Annie or Andie or something. Angie? She seemed so withdrawn; was she really? What did she do when she went home? What did she notice along the way? Did she cook? Go to a movie? Rent one? Go to a class? Throw pottery? Train falcons? And who did she go home to? Maybe she even had kids. He couldn’t see someone so shy taking on a pack of rugrats, though. … And yet maybe he could.
Is she happy? He wondered finally.
Andie loaded her bag into the car, along with Turtle's carrier. As they started out of town, she kept her windows open; the air smelled of oranges, so much that she expected she could put a straw to her mouth and drink it. After half an hour she began to smell salt in the air and got onto A1A just to be near the ocean, even though it would take a little longer.
After another 45 minutes she entered the outskirts of Conch Flats, a small, peaceful almost-city straddling the Indian River. Mrs. Graves’s house was on the southern end, a few miles from the hotels and development that drew tourists and snowbirds. Turtle woke as they stopped at a light and sniffed at the air, smelling salt, water, fish, and who knew what else. A few minutes later they were out of the car and in the driveway of the beach house. Turtle ran off after a lizard; Andie walked toward the house that would be her home for two weeks. She thought about Ernesto’s advice. Yeah, right. Skinny dipping.
In the house she found a fully stocked refrigerator, overflowing with fresh fruit and vegetables and some dishes she recognized as Mrs. Graves’s handiwork. There were fresh-squeezed orange and grapefruit juices from the local groves, grapes, pasta salad, greens, chili-fried corn, latkes, dolmades, asparagus, cream of cauliflower soup … and fresh-baked turkey breast. Mrs. Graves knew how Andie loved a fresh turkey sandwich. And for Turtle, anchovies and sardines. And a catnip plant sitting on the whitewashed windowsill above the sink.
That night Andie left the television on inside the house for company while she sat on the porch and watched the night roll in over the ocean. The moon was waxing and would probably be full in a few days. She could hear her feline familiar chasing something inside, probably a toy mouse.
The next day, her life at home would walk that much farther away from her.
Lilly got a job offer in Orlando and tried to persuade her ailing, heartsick brother to move south with her. It had been three months now, and he was still pale and drawn. He was constantly sick to his stomach and had lost weight.
“Honey, please go,” Katherine urged. “My heart breaks all over again to see you like this.” And so he did. He didn’t care much where he was or where he went anyway. His family knew he had to get away from this place, had to break the chain that tied him to his wife and child by leaving the place that did nothing but remind him, every aching moment of every long, empty day, that he was alone.
* * * * * * * *
“Mom got some new pictures from Evelyn.” That was his ex-mother-in-law, who understood the pain her daughter had caused. She did what she could to see that Gryphon knew something of Joy, who was now 11 years old. “She’ll send them soon.”
“Good.”
“Are you OK?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it the dreams? Are you getting any sleep?”
He shrugged. “Enough.”
“You don’t look it, sweetheart.”
“Maybe this vacation will help.”
Lilly thought over what she was going to say next. “Have you thought about … going back to marine biology yet?”
“Some, yeah. I think I need a little more time. Don’t want to deck anyone again too soon.” Lilly smiled.
As he got out of her car she wished him sweet dreams.
Gryphon shook himself out of his momentary stupor and found himself staring at the mousy bookseller behind the register. His eyes lingered a moment longer, caught by a slip of hair that has slid loose from her bun. As she began to turn in his direction, he looked quickly to the shelf before him, snatched up a book that had an interesting cover, brought it to the counter, and finally mumbled thanks and managed to smile as she handed him his change. “Reading on the job?” The corners of her mouth twitched in what he supposed might be a smile of some sort. “Just a little at a time,” he answered. “Not enough to affect my job performance.” The corners twitched a little further for a split second. He smiled himself and thanked her again.
Jess followed him into the back room and out the door, according to store policy, and smiled to herself as he drove away.
If only, she thought as she walked back toward Andie.
Gryphon found himself wondering about her life, the mousy bookseller’s. Annie or Andie or something. Angie? She seemed so withdrawn; was she really? What did she do when she went home? What did she notice along the way? Did she cook? Go to a movie? Rent one? Go to a class? Throw pottery? Train falcons? And who did she go home to? Maybe she even had kids. He couldn’t see someone so shy taking on a pack of rugrats, though. … And yet maybe he could.
Is she happy? He wondered finally.
Andie loaded her bag into the car, along with Turtle's carrier. As they started out of town, she kept her windows open; the air smelled of oranges, so much that she expected she could put a straw to her mouth and drink it. After half an hour she began to smell salt in the air and got onto A1A just to be near the ocean, even though it would take a little longer.
After another 45 minutes she entered the outskirts of Conch Flats, a small, peaceful almost-city straddling the Indian River. Mrs. Graves’s house was on the southern end, a few miles from the hotels and development that drew tourists and snowbirds. Turtle woke as they stopped at a light and sniffed at the air, smelling salt, water, fish, and who knew what else. A few minutes later they were out of the car and in the driveway of the beach house. Turtle ran off after a lizard; Andie walked toward the house that would be her home for two weeks. She thought about Ernesto’s advice. Yeah, right. Skinny dipping.
In the house she found a fully stocked refrigerator, overflowing with fresh fruit and vegetables and some dishes she recognized as Mrs. Graves’s handiwork. There were fresh-squeezed orange and grapefruit juices from the local groves, grapes, pasta salad, greens, chili-fried corn, latkes, dolmades, asparagus, cream of cauliflower soup … and fresh-baked turkey breast. Mrs. Graves knew how Andie loved a fresh turkey sandwich. And for Turtle, anchovies and sardines. And a catnip plant sitting on the whitewashed windowsill above the sink.
That night Andie left the television on inside the house for company while she sat on the porch and watched the night roll in over the ocean. The moon was waxing and would probably be full in a few days. She could hear her feline familiar chasing something inside, probably a toy mouse.
The next day, her life at home would walk that much farther away from her.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Your Cheesy Bookstore Romance Pt. 6
But as fate let it happen, no one had to say anything. Gryphon got out of work early one night and walked into his home to find a man pacing in his living room, smoking a cigarette. “Uh ... hello?” Gryphon said. She came out then with two suitcases and set them down without looking up.
“Take these out, and I’m almost ready with the baby.” She left the room again without seeing her husband standing there. Gryphon was paralyzed, trying to figure out when he had fallen asleep because this was making no sense in his waking world. Nothing his brain knew could begin to explain what he had walked into. He went to the doorway of the nursery; the man in the living room had grabbed the suitcases and gone outside.
She was rushing around, shoving diapers, bottles, toys, clothes into the baby bags.
“What’s going on? What are you doing?”
She dropped a pink stuffed bunny, startled, and before she could catch herself said, “Why are you here?” then continued as if she’d said nothing.
Gryphon’s mind finally snapped to, and he hollered, “What the hell is going ON?!?”
She looked at him, not stopping. “I’m leaving. Leaving with Max.”
“WHAT?!?! What do you mean, you're leaving? Where are you going?” Finally he grabbed her shoulder to stop her running around and get her to face him. “WHAT IS GOING ON?”
She whirled around. “I’m leaving. And taking Joy.”
He stopped dead, his jaw hanging. He barely managed to utter “How—what—what happened—"
"Nothing happened, Gryphon. This is how it always was.”
His mind was spinning. “You can’t leave. You can’t take my baby.”
The man now standing in the doorway answered in an Australian accent. “She’s not your baby, Jack.”
Gryphon just stared, looking around the room, trying to find something that could explain all this, something, anything that made sense and would tell him everything was OK. He turned to the crib and picked up his precious Joy. Not his baby. What was he talking about? His wife motioned to Max to go outside, and waited a moment, watching Gryphon and her baby. He was touching her sweet face, murmuring to her.
“Come on, Gryphon,” she said quietly, taking Joy from him and fixing her in her waiting Winnie-the-Pooh car seat.
“How can you do this?” He was barely able to speak. “Where did this come from? What do you mean, she’s not my baby?!”
“Let me go, Gryphon.”
“Let you go? I come home from work to my wife and child and I find THIS? And I’m supposed to just let it happen like you’re going to your mom’s? Are you going to explain ANYTHING, or are you just going to shatter my world in seconds and leave? Because apparently I wasn’t even supposed to get THIS much, was I? you were just going to leave with her, weren’t you? So I would come home to NOTHING?”
She stopped and sat down in the rocking chair. “All right. I have a minute.”
“A MINUTE?”
“Do you want to hear this or not?” She had him hostage. He knelt down beside his child and let her take his finger. Joy smiled and burbled at him.
She sighed. “I met Max just before I met you. He was traveling through the state, on shore leave from the navy.* We hung out a few times, and he left. I didn’t see or hear from him for months, and I thought that was it. Then one day he reappeared, right after you and I started sleeping together, and when I started to know him better he was like nothing I’d ever known. He was the coolest guy I’d ever met. But he had to leave again with his ship, and I’d fallen for him but didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. You know my dad never came back, so maybe I figured he wouldn’t either. Trite, huh?” she smiled a little, automatically, but he ignored it.
“Then I found out I was pregnant, and I knew it was him, not a broken condom like I’d told you. So he shows up again a month later, what, two months before the wedding, and I’d never told him too much about you.”
So that’s why she changed her mind, he thought. That’s why she wanted it small. Like the guy wouldn’t have found out anyway? Everyone in town knew.
“I didn’t want him to know about you … I almost called the whole thing off, but he went away again and I thought, that’s got to be it. And I loved you. Not the same exactly, but I did. I still do. I thought we could raise a beautiful baby in a good life. You’re a wonderful father, Gryphon.”
He was staring at Joy. “So now he’s going to stay? THIS time?” His voice was laced with acid.
“He’s been here since the day she was born, Gryphon. He left all those times because he had to. If he hadn’t gone back to his ship they’d have thrown him in jail. He busted his butt to get weekends off. And the last time he left was to get out of the navy altogether.”
Gryphon stared hard at Joy, fighting tears hard. It didn’t work.
“Do you know for sure?”
“Yes.”
“How long has he known?”
“About two weeks after the wedding.”
“Why now? Why wait till now? Why give me all this time with her just to take her away now? She’s 10 months old now.”
“We’ve saved enough now for all of us to go back to Australia.”
“AUSTRALIA?? How will I see her?!”
“Gryphon, you’re not GOING to. She’s not your baby!”
“Loving and raising her since before she was even born makes me what? Nothing? I’ve devoted my life to her, made sure she has everything, and I’m never going to SEE her again?! I’ve loved her more than anything or anyone I’ve ever known, and you’re taking her away?!”
She was crying now too. “I’m sorry. I’m SORRY. But this is the way it has to be.” She stood up. “We have to go.” She bent to pick up the car seat and the child it cradled.
“Please, please don’t do this—“
“Say goodbye, Gryph.”
He did. He kissed his Joy softly on the forehead and cheek, trying to jump back to this moment from a future time when he wouldn’t have her at all, knowing that in seconds this would be a memory and nothing more, slipped through his fingers, nothing to hold on to, gone forever, trying to make it last a lifetime, his lifetime. “I’ll love you forever, I wish you could know that. I hope—I hope that does something in your life somehow.” He stood up. “Please let me know …” he choked. “Send pictures, a letter, anything …”
She put her hand on his arm for a moment and walked out the door with the car seat and one last bag. Gryphon fell against the wall and slid down it slowly. He heard a car engine start out front and fade into the distance. He looked up at the window from where he sat on the floor, legs splayed like a rag doll, and noticed it had started to snow.
*Note that author intended to put the guy in some kind of Australian navy she assumed existed but never felt like researching. And assumed wouldn't be putting in to port in the States but didn't care at that point.
“Take these out, and I’m almost ready with the baby.” She left the room again without seeing her husband standing there. Gryphon was paralyzed, trying to figure out when he had fallen asleep because this was making no sense in his waking world. Nothing his brain knew could begin to explain what he had walked into. He went to the doorway of the nursery; the man in the living room had grabbed the suitcases and gone outside.
She was rushing around, shoving diapers, bottles, toys, clothes into the baby bags.
“What’s going on? What are you doing?”
She dropped a pink stuffed bunny, startled, and before she could catch herself said, “Why are you here?” then continued as if she’d said nothing.
Gryphon’s mind finally snapped to, and he hollered, “What the hell is going ON?!?”
She looked at him, not stopping. “I’m leaving. Leaving with Max.”
“WHAT?!?! What do you mean, you're leaving? Where are you going?” Finally he grabbed her shoulder to stop her running around and get her to face him. “WHAT IS GOING ON?”
She whirled around. “I’m leaving. And taking Joy.”
He stopped dead, his jaw hanging. He barely managed to utter “How—what—what happened—"
"Nothing happened, Gryphon. This is how it always was.”
His mind was spinning. “You can’t leave. You can’t take my baby.”
The man now standing in the doorway answered in an Australian accent. “She’s not your baby, Jack.”
Gryphon just stared, looking around the room, trying to find something that could explain all this, something, anything that made sense and would tell him everything was OK. He turned to the crib and picked up his precious Joy. Not his baby. What was he talking about? His wife motioned to Max to go outside, and waited a moment, watching Gryphon and her baby. He was touching her sweet face, murmuring to her.
“Come on, Gryphon,” she said quietly, taking Joy from him and fixing her in her waiting Winnie-the-Pooh car seat.
“How can you do this?” He was barely able to speak. “Where did this come from? What do you mean, she’s not my baby?!”
“Let me go, Gryphon.”
“Let you go? I come home from work to my wife and child and I find THIS? And I’m supposed to just let it happen like you’re going to your mom’s? Are you going to explain ANYTHING, or are you just going to shatter my world in seconds and leave? Because apparently I wasn’t even supposed to get THIS much, was I? you were just going to leave with her, weren’t you? So I would come home to NOTHING?”
She stopped and sat down in the rocking chair. “All right. I have a minute.”
“A MINUTE?”
“Do you want to hear this or not?” She had him hostage. He knelt down beside his child and let her take his finger. Joy smiled and burbled at him.
She sighed. “I met Max just before I met you. He was traveling through the state, on shore leave from the navy.* We hung out a few times, and he left. I didn’t see or hear from him for months, and I thought that was it. Then one day he reappeared, right after you and I started sleeping together, and when I started to know him better he was like nothing I’d ever known. He was the coolest guy I’d ever met. But he had to leave again with his ship, and I’d fallen for him but didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. You know my dad never came back, so maybe I figured he wouldn’t either. Trite, huh?” she smiled a little, automatically, but he ignored it.
“Then I found out I was pregnant, and I knew it was him, not a broken condom like I’d told you. So he shows up again a month later, what, two months before the wedding, and I’d never told him too much about you.”
So that’s why she changed her mind, he thought. That’s why she wanted it small. Like the guy wouldn’t have found out anyway? Everyone in town knew.
“I didn’t want him to know about you … I almost called the whole thing off, but he went away again and I thought, that’s got to be it. And I loved you. Not the same exactly, but I did. I still do. I thought we could raise a beautiful baby in a good life. You’re a wonderful father, Gryphon.”
He was staring at Joy. “So now he’s going to stay? THIS time?” His voice was laced with acid.
“He’s been here since the day she was born, Gryphon. He left all those times because he had to. If he hadn’t gone back to his ship they’d have thrown him in jail. He busted his butt to get weekends off. And the last time he left was to get out of the navy altogether.”
Gryphon stared hard at Joy, fighting tears hard. It didn’t work.
“Do you know for sure?”
“Yes.”
“How long has he known?”
“About two weeks after the wedding.”
“Why now? Why wait till now? Why give me all this time with her just to take her away now? She’s 10 months old now.”
“We’ve saved enough now for all of us to go back to Australia.”
“AUSTRALIA?? How will I see her?!”
“Gryphon, you’re not GOING to. She’s not your baby!”
“Loving and raising her since before she was even born makes me what? Nothing? I’ve devoted my life to her, made sure she has everything, and I’m never going to SEE her again?! I’ve loved her more than anything or anyone I’ve ever known, and you’re taking her away?!”
She was crying now too. “I’m sorry. I’m SORRY. But this is the way it has to be.” She stood up. “We have to go.” She bent to pick up the car seat and the child it cradled.
“Please, please don’t do this—“
“Say goodbye, Gryph.”
He did. He kissed his Joy softly on the forehead and cheek, trying to jump back to this moment from a future time when he wouldn’t have her at all, knowing that in seconds this would be a memory and nothing more, slipped through his fingers, nothing to hold on to, gone forever, trying to make it last a lifetime, his lifetime. “I’ll love you forever, I wish you could know that. I hope—I hope that does something in your life somehow.” He stood up. “Please let me know …” he choked. “Send pictures, a letter, anything …”
She put her hand on his arm for a moment and walked out the door with the car seat and one last bag. Gryphon fell against the wall and slid down it slowly. He heard a car engine start out front and fade into the distance. He looked up at the window from where he sat on the floor, legs splayed like a rag doll, and noticed it had started to snow.
*Note that author intended to put the guy in some kind of Australian navy she assumed existed but never felt like researching. And assumed wouldn't be putting in to port in the States but didn't care at that point.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Your Cheesy Bookstore Romance Pt. 5
“You still think about them a lot, don’t you?” Lilly asked her brother.
“Not so much. Just sometimes … I just thought of the way she used to look at me when no one else would.”
And there was nothing else to say. It had all been said a dozen dozen times; everything that could be wrung out of it had been years before. A child leaves your life, and she’s gone.
Twelve years before, Gryphon had fallen madly in love with a beautiful girl, the first beautiful girl to ever pay attention to him. She had subsequently become pregnant. And he was thrilled. So he proposed, riding the high of first love. And so they planned the wedding: big, everyone they knew, and extravagant, as big and elaborate as anyone could plan in three months, before she started to show too much.
Then one day she changed her mind about the size and about the date.
“I want it small now, private, just you and me. it’ll be so much more romantic. Just us. Just you and me.” He’d smiled and laid his hand on her stomach. “And baby bean.” And so he’d agreed; whatever she said sounded pretty good to him. She could suggest they make their wedding cake out of dirt and old syringes and eat it in a compost heap and he’d agree to it.
They got a small apartment and started to put a nursery together. So gradually that he could never tell when it started, she began to seem withdrawn, to even avoid him sometimes; it was attributed to hormones. One night, however, she came home from her mother’s beaming and carrying bags loaded with Chinese food, as she had when they were dating, and a renewed warmth in her eyes. They made love that night as they hadn’t in months, since before the wedding even. He thought she was so fantastically beautiful pregnant, so sexy. She compared herself to large sea creatures, but he fawned over her like never before. To see her heavy with the child they’d created together, the child who would be both of them together, intermingled, as he saw them forever, made him lightheaded. His friends laughed at him, but he just smiled back. “Someday you’ll know,” he said.
He cried when Joy was born. “Who do you think she looks more like?” he’d ask anyone, beaming. They just smiled back. He cut back his classes from full to part time and got a job at the library. He arranged everything so he had his afternoons free and Saturdays off. She worked mornings and afternoons, and Joy stayed with one grandmother or the other from 8 a.m. till Gryphon got back from classes at lunchtime. He hadn’t seen his own mother so happy in years. But after a few months something changed; he couldn’t place what precisely, but his mother looked at him a little differently, watching him somehow, for something.
“Why is she looking at me like that?” he asked Lilly.
“What do you mean?”
“Just watch her.” But Lilly saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Somebody’s got to say something,” Lilly said to their mom one morning.
“Say what exactly? That woman is his life, like it or not. And he’s never been so happy as when he’s with Joy,” Katherine replied. Lilly just brushed her fingers lightly over Joy’s forehead. She didn’t know what to tell him either.
“Not so much. Just sometimes … I just thought of the way she used to look at me when no one else would.”
And there was nothing else to say. It had all been said a dozen dozen times; everything that could be wrung out of it had been years before. A child leaves your life, and she’s gone.
Twelve years before, Gryphon had fallen madly in love with a beautiful girl, the first beautiful girl to ever pay attention to him. She had subsequently become pregnant. And he was thrilled. So he proposed, riding the high of first love. And so they planned the wedding: big, everyone they knew, and extravagant, as big and elaborate as anyone could plan in three months, before she started to show too much.
Then one day she changed her mind about the size and about the date.
“I want it small now, private, just you and me. it’ll be so much more romantic. Just us. Just you and me.” He’d smiled and laid his hand on her stomach. “And baby bean.” And so he’d agreed; whatever she said sounded pretty good to him. She could suggest they make their wedding cake out of dirt and old syringes and eat it in a compost heap and he’d agree to it.
They got a small apartment and started to put a nursery together. So gradually that he could never tell when it started, she began to seem withdrawn, to even avoid him sometimes; it was attributed to hormones. One night, however, she came home from her mother’s beaming and carrying bags loaded with Chinese food, as she had when they were dating, and a renewed warmth in her eyes. They made love that night as they hadn’t in months, since before the wedding even. He thought she was so fantastically beautiful pregnant, so sexy. She compared herself to large sea creatures, but he fawned over her like never before. To see her heavy with the child they’d created together, the child who would be both of them together, intermingled, as he saw them forever, made him lightheaded. His friends laughed at him, but he just smiled back. “Someday you’ll know,” he said.
He cried when Joy was born. “Who do you think she looks more like?” he’d ask anyone, beaming. They just smiled back. He cut back his classes from full to part time and got a job at the library. He arranged everything so he had his afternoons free and Saturdays off. She worked mornings and afternoons, and Joy stayed with one grandmother or the other from 8 a.m. till Gryphon got back from classes at lunchtime. He hadn’t seen his own mother so happy in years. But after a few months something changed; he couldn’t place what precisely, but his mother looked at him a little differently, watching him somehow, for something.
“Why is she looking at me like that?” he asked Lilly.
“What do you mean?”
“Just watch her.” But Lilly saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Somebody’s got to say something,” Lilly said to their mom one morning.
“Say what exactly? That woman is his life, like it or not. And he’s never been so happy as when he’s with Joy,” Katherine replied. Lilly just brushed her fingers lightly over Joy’s forehead. She didn’t know what to tell him either.
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