by K C West
He gave me a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid I don’t keep up with the society pages, but she was so sure she had seen you before. She went through some copies of People that we had in our luggage…. there must have been five back issues…and there was your picture at some function for the Boston Symphony.”
“Oh.” I felt my face flush. “Well, at least it wasn’t the clambake with the Kennedy clan. I think I was wearing a string bikini in that picture. Sometimes it’s hard to avoid the press, especially when your father expects you to show up for events like that.” I took a long swallow of soda.
“So you’re the daughter of Frederick Curtis, the multi-billionaire?”
I shifted in my seat. “Uh …yeah, something like that. When he wants to admit it.”
“You two don’t get along?”
“Let’s just say there are issues between us. I don’t think he wants to acknowledge our kinship.”
“Is that why you’re troubled tonight?”
“No.” I sighed and took another swallow of root beer.
“I see.” He waited a moment, before asking more questions. “How come you don’t have a Boston accent?”
“Well, we didn’t move to Boston until I was about ten. I was born in New Jersey and lived near Philadelphia after that. My father’s main business is in shipping so we spent a lot of years living in port cities. I guess my accent is from the whole east coast.”
“Any brothers or sisters?”
“Nope. I’m an only child. In fact, it’s just Father and me now. My mother died when I was fourteen.” My voice caught on the last sentence. Even after all these years, it still hurts.
He heard the quaver. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I sure could use her advice right now.”
He glanced at his watch. “Well, I could never replace your mother, but I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” His eyebrow arched. “And, I left my clerical collar in my luggage so I won’t get ‘all preachy’ on you.”
I felt my throat tighten and the room seemed to grow warmer. “It’s kind of you, Neil, but I don’t know if my problem can be solved in ten or twenty minutes. It’s been building for several weeks.”
He drained his beverage and placed the glass on the table, giving me a reassuring smile. “I understand. And I don’t mean to pry, but you’re clearly bothered by something. You’ve been so kind to Rose and the kids and me, I just want to help if I can.”
I didn’t intend to say another thing, but all at once, the words tumbled out in a jumble of pain and confusion.
“I’ve gotten myself into a situation … with … a romantic situation … an affair of the heart, I guess you’d call it … with someone at work.”
“I see.” He leaned back and folded his hands.
“I don’t know how it happened…” I felt a lump form at the back of my throat. “I don’t know if I should pursue it … and I’m confused.”
He reached across the table and took my hand.
“Affairs of the heart can be like that. And you say it involves your workplace?”
I nodded, keeping my eyes focused on the table. “I think I’ve fallen in love with one of my colleagues … a woman.”
“Ah… I see. And you’re worried about what people might say? What they might think of you?”
I shook my head. “No, not at all. I don’t give a damn …oops, sorry, about what people think.”
“Oh, well, perhaps you should start at the beginning. I’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion already. I could use a few more facts.”
I took a long breath. “Okay, in a nutshell… I came to Arizona because I was interested in working on a certain project with a certain group of people. I’ve had a lot of experience working in a supporting capacity, but nobody has helped me learn to lead a project. Nobody ever cared whether I progressed in my profession. I hoped I could get some of that guidance here.”
“Has that happened?”
“Yes. I got off to a rocky start, but I learned a lot and for the first time in my life, I’ve proven myself to be a capable worker. I’ve taken charge of a group and made a contribution. I’ve been encouraged for my brain and not my money or my looks.”
Neil squeezed my hand. “That’s great, PJ.”
“My father lost interest in me when my mother died. We were a very close, loving family when she was alive. We even went to church regularly.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“But, when she was killed, things just fell apart. My father went to the office or away on trips and I was sent to private schools and summer camps. At home, I had a housekeeper, cook and chauffeur to supervise me. I tried all sorts of things to get Father to notice me, and when he did it was for all the wrong reasons. He considers me a screw-up and I guess I am … or at least I was until I came here. I made friends with my colleagues, one in particular. Now, I’ve got to decide….”
“Decide what?”
I took a final drink of soda. “We became friends first, good friends. This friendship … I value it so much, but at the same time, I really think I’m in love with her.” I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “I can’t lose her friendship, Neil. I don’t know if she feels as strongly as I do about this. What do I do? How do I know it’s love that I’m feeling? And if it is, how can I tell if she loves me back?”
Neil chuckled softly. “And I was afraid you had a hard problem to share with me. That’s about the hardest, most universal problem that humans can face. Maybe we can take one part at a time, okay?”
I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “I seem to be getting a little emotional. I’m sorry.”
“For what? Falling in love?” He paused and searched his pockets, producing a crumpled tissue. “Don’t ever be sorry for falling in love, PJ.” He handed me the tissue and then moved to take it back. “Oh, wait … I used that on Jessica this morning. She had chocolate ice cream. Be careful of any brown spots.”
I found some safe corners to blow my nose. “I’m okay. Thanks.”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in thought. His eyes closed for a few seconds and I felt a calm settle over me. Then, his eyes were open and on me. “You want to know how you can tell if it is real love?”
“Yes.”
“I take it you’ve never been in love before?”
“I was engaged to a guy for a few months, but it was all his idea. There’s no comparison.”
“Okay. Close your eyes, picture this woman in your mind and tell me what you feel.”
I did as he requested and my tears dried, my throat cleared. A broad smile replaced my tense expression. I relaxed into the experiment with a sigh. “When I think of her, I feel warm, comfortable, and safe. I can’t help smiling a lot. She makes me feel capable, smart and funny. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we’re doing, I’m just happy being there with her. I can tell her things that I’ve never told anyone and she listens. Before she came into my life, I was practically invisible. I had no concerns beyond my own pleasures. I was a rich, empty-headed bitch or at least, that’s what people thought and I tried to live up to my label. She taught me so much about acting responsibly toward people, animals and the environment. She’s my best friend and I think about her all the time.”
“Okay, good. Keep your eyes closed and pretend she’s sitting beside you right now. What sort of emotions do you feel? How does your body react to her?”
“Oh, gawd…. Uh … my heart races and my neck gets hot. My palms sweat. Sometimes I try to talk but my words get all tangled up because she’s smiling at me. I’m struck dumb. And, when she touches me.” I sighed again. “I wish she’d do more of that. When we sleep at the site, I think about how it would be to zip our bags together and just snuggle for days on end. That image gets me aroused, I must admit.”
Neil cleared his throat. “Then, I take it you haven’t expressed your feelings toward her in a physical way yet?”
“No. I react to her touches, but I haven’t … we haven’t
made any moves in that direction.”
“I think we’ve explored that avenue enough. You can open your eyes now.”
I blinked and blushed, realizing how much I had confessed.
“Hey, relax. You had me remembering my first date with Rose and how I daydreamed all the way back to my dorm room.”
I leaned toward him. “It went well for you? Was it love at first sight?”
“Ha! No, as a matter of fact, she thought I was the most boring, obnoxious guy on campus. It took us several dates and I had to be very persistent before she realized that it was easier to give up and love me back. I sent her poems, flowers, and candy. Nothing seemed to soften her up … until one day….”
“What? What did you do?”
“I serenaded her in a rowboat on Lake Discovery. That was a small body of water near our college campus.”
“Hmm. That sounds very romantic.”
He grinned and I sensed there was more to this story. “Yeah, it does sound romantic. It was meant to be romantic. But, I couldn’t row a boat, so I lost an oar right off the bat. We got sun-burned and a speed boat came by and soaked us right when I was doing my best Barry Manilow impression.”
I started to laugh. “No. You’re making that up.”
He made a cross over his heart with an index finger. “Swear to God! Ooops!”
We both laughed.
“Oh, Neil. Thank you for making me laugh.”
“Well, listen. I want to relieve some of the tension. You just remember old Neil trying to woo sweet Rose and I hope you’ll realize that there is only one way to truly know if you are in love.”
“And that would be?”
He paused for dramatic effect. “That would be … if you are willing to persist in spite of all the embarrassing things that can happen when you’re trying to make a good impression and if the object of your affection can keep on going out with you, in spite of the fool you make of yourself, then it must be true love. And both of you were meant for each other.”
“Okay. I’ll remember all that. Now, about the second part.”
“Ah, yes. Part two. Why wouldn’t she return your love? You’re a very attractive woman.”
“Thank you.” I bit down on my lower lip. “Well, for one thing, she thinks I’m straight.”
“Oh.”
“And she’s had a very nasty experience with an old love affair and I don’t think she wants to think about loving anyone again for quite some time.”
“Hmm. You do have your work cut out for you.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
“But, it’s not hopeless. It’s never hopeless. Remember Neil in the rowboat. Have faith in yourself and in your love for her. If she’s got a brain in her head she’d be a fool to turn you down.”
“Yeah. I keep telling myself that.”
Neil tapped his fingers on the tabletop, beating out a brief tattoo. “Let me ask you a serious question. You don’t have to answer, but I wish you’d think about it, okay?”
“Okay.” My body tensed.
“Do you love yourself, PJ? Have you looked deep down inside and forgiven yourself for your teenage years?”
Well, have I? I looked down at the table and then up at him. “Yes, Neil. I believe I finally can say that I do love myself and, except for the problems with my father, I am at peace with my past.”
“Good. It’s hard to love another if you don’t first love yourself.”
“Should I risk destroying the friendship we have, though? If I tell her I love her and she isn’t willing to love me back, I will jeopardize all of that.”
He heaved a mighty sigh. “The sixty-four thousand dollar question. I can’t say for sure one way or the other. I haven’t met your intended so I can’t give you my impressions. Maybe I can suggest that you take it very slowly in that direction, watching for the right opportunity to bring it up. If you are patient and if she continues to want to be around you, then I’d say you could probably risk it. Be patient. Don’t ever be sorry for falling in love.”
“I’m not. I just never expected it to happen this way. It sort of came at me from out of the blue.”
His laughter was soft, full of warmth. “Love is just like that, PJ. Sneaky, so very sneaky. It takes hold of us and won’t let go. It seeps into every pore, sealing up the cracks, suffocating us with the most wonderful feelings. It picks its own time and place. It’s overwhelming and amazing and the world needs a whole lot more of it, in my opinion.”
He popped a few cashews into his mouth and rose. “I’m afraid I’d better get back to Rose. She’ll be so relaxed she might fall asleep on the massage table.”
I stood up. “Thanks so much for talking with me, Neil. It’s been a real help to discuss this with you. I’m afraid I haven’t been very religious for many years, at least not in an organized way. I believe in a higher power …God … or whatever name he or she goes by, but I’ve read so much about other cultures both ancient and modern that I’m afraid no organized church fills my needs.”
“You’d be surprised how rewarding a personal relationship can be. God is like the boss of a big company. Some of the employees work together and some maintain individual ties.” He took both of my hands. “Anyway, it’s never too late to get reconnected.”
“I’m not so sure your boss would approve of my life up until now.”
Neil grinned. “My boss loves every employee.”
“I’m afraid I gave up on your boss when Mom died. I asked all sorts of questions and never got answers.”
“Give him another try, won’t you? The ‘boss’ I know wants all of his ‘employees’ to be happy. He loves us, no matter who we are or who we choose to love.”
He went back to the table for a final handful of cashews, tossing them into his mouth. “Love these things.”
“Me too.”
His hand brushed my shoulder. “You call me if I can be of further help.”
I followed him to the door. “Thank you, Neil, I will.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you, but try him yourself, okay?” He winked. “I bet your name is still in his Rolodex.”
That made me smile. “Yeah, right.”
He paused in the doorway. “There’s no big mystery about it, you know. It’s all about love. Feel it. Share it. Pass it along.”
We gave each other a hug. He pulled out his wallet and gave me a card. “This is the number of the church in California. Let me know how things turn out, okay?”
“I will. Thanks so much for listening.”
“Any time. Thanks for the cashews … and the root beer.” He walked on down the hall to his family.
I changed into a nightshirt and prepared for bed. The room was illuminated by the faint glow of moonlight from behind closed drapes. Tucked under a light blanket, a thick mattress supporting my back, I stared at the ceiling, composing my thoughts.
Finally, I took a deep breath.
“Okay, I know I haven’t made much of an effort for a long time, but if you’re listening…Thanks. I think I’m finally getting some answers.”
I fell asleep, then… dreaming of Kim.
Chapter Fifteen
I lay in my sleeping bag trying to concentrate on the night sky. My mind though had other ideas. It kept returning to my Amazons. They weren’t really mine, of course, even though I’d like to keep them that way. All too soon they’d belong to the world of academia. Their lives would be dissected. Disagreements would arise between archaeologists, anthropologists, and historians, some of whom would refuse to believe that Amazons existed at all. I sighed and shifted to ease an aching hip. The women had rested in silence for centuries, until I had come along and disturbed their repose. What had happened to the cold, hard scientist in me, the archaeologist who believed all things are better revealed?
Westermeyer had taken longer than I had expected to get back to me, to return the skulls to their resting place. But I managed, thanks to PJ, to refrain from calling him, bugging him.
“I know… it’s just that…”
“And it’s not like we don’t have plenty to do here.”
I smiled. You’ve come a long way, baby.
Finally, Doctor Westermeyer called to say that he would return to the site on the Monday before Thanksgiving.
Sandy and Mike assisted Westermeyer in carrying the precious bundles back from the trailhead to the site and replacing them in the cave where I felt they belonged. As soon as they arrived on site, I gathered the rest of the crew together in the tent so that they could hear his report first hand.
I made room on the table for Westermeyer to spread out his reports. I gave him the one good folding chair. PJ and I sat on our battered, aluminum framed, camp chairs; the others either sat on the floor or stood. Sandy and Mike followed the scientist into the tent and placed two boxes on the table.
“Samuel, I thought you returned the skulls to the cave,” I said, nodding toward the sealed boxes.
Westermeyer raised his hand. “I did.” He stared hard at me a moment before scanning the assembled crew, waiting, I thought, for the right moment to begin his command performance. I smiled to myself. Oh, Samuel, I always knew you had a flair for the dramatic.
The group was silent, a rarity. The mood was solemn. The clearing of collective throats reminded me of my childhood, when I was forced every Sunday to wear a frilly little dress and go to church. It had amused my child’s mind that the clearing of congregational throats was a necessary prelude to the singing of praises. Gawd, where did that come from?
First, Westermeyer took the dagger from a padded envelope and handed it to me. I held it for a few moments, feeling the heft of it before handing it to PJ.
“It’s of Greek manufacture,” Westermeyer said, after what he had deemed an appropriate pause. “The engravings are what are believed, at least in myth, to be Amazon. And we all know, don’t we, that myth is the historical record of a preliterate world?”
I sucked in my breath. “Proof positive.”
