“I thought you’d be a little more thrilled that I’m back.”
“I bet you only came back for the free drinks. Where will you head off to tomorrow?”
“I was thinking of going tonight,” Alec said. “Vegas? Or Milwaukee? I’m having a hard time deciding.”
“How about jail? Or AA?”
“You are funny. Anybody ever tell you that?”
“All the time.”
Alec turned up the radio and blasted the Soundgarden song. The heat didn’t seem to be working in the Jeep. Its ragtop, more suitable to summertime, leaked in the outside chill. But the speakers sounded brand-new.
“Still driving the CRX?” Alec asked after a couple of minutes of cranking the song.
“Ten months and four thousand dollars later. Yeah.”
“I thought it might be totaled. It took a beating that night.”
“So did we.”
Alec looked at Jake and smiled. They drove for a while and passed an empty grocery store parking lot. Alec pulled in and parked the car on the edge, facing the unlit building with the deserted parking lot stretched out in front of them.
“Is this where you confess your deep-rooted love for me?”
Alec laughed. “Now that’s funny. Sorry, I’ll always be Carnie’s man.”
“That’s ’cause he bought you beers all night long.”
“He knows how to show his appreciation.”
“I’m sorry, but I already went shopping for the month.”
“Really?” Alec said, his eyes looking reckless and amused. “But have you gone hunting?”
Jake looked at him and tried not to smile. “No.”
“Oh, yes.”
“No, not tonight.”
“And why not?”
“Bad idea.”
“There’s no such thing as a bad idea. A simple notion or conviction can’t ever be bad. When was the last time you went shopping-cart hunting?”
“It’s been awhile.” Jake turned his head around to look around the empty lot. “The moron who taught me how suddenly disappeared off the face of this earth.”
“But you’re not bitter about that, are you?”
“Go ahead,” Jake said, daring him as he lit up a cigarette off the pack of smokes he had bummed off Carnie.
“Got one for me?”
“You’re going to get pulled over.”
“I wonder what they’ll say about me not having a driver’s license?” Alec laughed, then floored the gas.
The Jeep raced over the yellow lines of the parking spaces toward the one lone shopping cart resting dead center in the middle of the lot. Jake started laughing before they reached it. Then, as the bumper of the Jeep slammed into the cart and sent it careening upwards and outwards, amazingly without effort and without slowing the Jeep’s 70 mph, the two of them laughed uncontrollably.
“You’re an idiot,” Jake screamed above the screeching voice of Kurt Cobain, Alec’s hero, who had suddenly begun singing as if on cue.
“Such a best friend.”
“Best?”
Alec sucked in his cigarette and drove out to the street. He looked over at Jake and only laughed.
“You can fool all the others, but you’ll never fool me. I know you’re glad I’m back.”
A block down the street, stereo speakers thumping with angry rock, the Jeep driving steadily, the two of them passed a policeman driving the opposite way.
Jake looked at Alec. His friend—okay, maybe his best friend, if he really wanted to be honest—raised his eyebrows and laughed.
“It’s all about timing, Jakester,” he said. “All about timing. And some of us are just born lucky.”
EIGHT
June 2005
IT WAS NINE O’CLOCK, and I was staying at a Fairfield Inn close to campus. Kirby had asked several times if I wanted to have dinner with him and his family, and after the tenth or eleventh time I finally said okay. I had just gotten back to the hotel, about ten minutes away from Providence, and was sprawled across the bed watching ESPN when the phone rang.
I assumed it was Kirby. Who else knew where I was? I never expected the voice on the line.
“This is Alyssa,” the voice said, sounding the same way she did a decade ago.
“Alyssa? As in Providence College’s Alyssa Roberts?” I said, trying to be funny but probably not succeeding.
“The one and the only.”
“How’d you know—” I began.
“One guess.”
“Did Kirby call you?”
“He might have possibly said something about you being in the area.”
“I just had dinner with him.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I had asked about Alyssa during dinner and hadn’t gotten a lot of information. But Kirby had smiled, as if he found my interest in her surprising after all these years.
“Are you—Where are you calling from?”
“I live in Orland Park.”
“Still close by, huh? So—how are you?”
“Wide awake,” she said, surprising me. “Any chance you’d want to get a cup of coffee?”
I had just had maybe four cups back at Kirby’s house. “Sure, I’d love some.”
“David told me you would be leaving tomorrow, and I thought—well, it’s been awhile.”
My mind had finally caught up with my adrenaline, and I had to ask. “Are, uh—does tonight work? I mean, if tomorrow worked better—I don’t want to take you from, you know—”
“It’s just me, Jake,” Alyssa said. “You won’t be having coffee with a married woman, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“No, I wasn’t worried. I just—I thought—”
“It’d be nice to get you up-to-date on my life. I keep reading about yours in the alumni news.”
“I can’t help any of that.”
“Let’s talk at Starbucks. You remember where the old Bakers Square used to be? Still is? It’s across the street.”
“Is there anything closer to you?”
“I’m calling on a cell,” she said. “I’m actually already here.”
It’s seldom that I’m so utterly and completely surprised.
“See you soon,” I said.
The years had been kind to Alyssa Roberts. Extremely kind.
I opened the door to Starbucks and immediately spotted her at a small table, a tall cup in her hand, her friendly eyes finding mine and lighting up. A controlled smile curled at her lips as she stood. She seemed taller than in college, but that was probably just my imagination. Her hair was shorter but still fell to her shoulders. It was pulled half-back and held with a barrette. She put down her coffee cup and stood there, waiting for me.
I had imagined this scene many times before. The dramatic meeting again. I had seen it in my mind, but seeing her in person, all intentions and plans suddenly seemed inept. I walked toward her with a smile and eyes that didn’t blink and knew the one and only thing I could do was hug her.
For a brief second or two, I amazingly found myself back in the arms of Alyssa Roberts. Her hair was soft against my cheek, her body slight. A slight scent of citrus covered her. I moved away and saw her staring at me, studying me without realizing she was doing it.
“Good to see you,” I said.
“Thanks for coming.”
“I had a lot of other plans, I hope you know.”
“I’m sure.”
“Would you like anything else?”
She shook her head and sat back down as I got myself coffee. I sat down across from her, studying the young girl who had grown into the woman across from me. She wore jeans and a white button-down shirt, untucked. She still could pose as a college student, even though she was probably thirty-two.
“It’s good to see you,” I said.
“You already said that.” She grinned.
“I’m still in shock. I don’t know what to say.”
“We never did have a proper farewell,” Alyssa said.
; “I’m used to doing improper things.”
“You look well.”
“Is that ‘well’ as in healthy, or is that a pause, as in, ‘well …’?”
“I see your sarcasm is still alive and kicking.”
I chuckled. “I do that when I get nervous.”
“Jake Rivers, nervous?”
“I can jump out of a plane, no problem. But this—well …”
“Well,” Alyssa repeated with a smile.
There was a decent crowd in the Starbucks at this time of night, but we ignored them. It felt surprisingly natural, sitting across from Alyssa and sipping on my latte.
“So you own your own company?” she asked.
“That makes it sound glamorous. The overhead is mine too.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Yeah, very much. It’s great to see something you’ve wanted to do slowly build into something halfway decent.”
“Are you growing?”
“Trying to.”
“That’s good to hear.”
The confidence in Alyssa was still there, along with her gentle nature. She had always carried a great mystery about her—this disciplined and controlled young woman who seemed like she had a huge heart. I had always wanted to see more of that heart. I was just too stupid and immature to get the chance.
“Are you still teaching?” I asked.
She nodded. “Just finished my ninth year.”
“Must be going well.”
“I never thought I’d be teaching for this long—but life can sometimes throw you a curveball.”
I didn’t want to ask, because really, it was none of my business. But her unexpected call, her dramatic declaration that “it’s just me,” the lack of a wedding ring—they all said the same thing.
And the awful thing was, I couldn’t help but be elated.
“What grade do you teach?”
“Third, which I love.”
She looked more mature than the girl I remembered. But the beauty, the softness, and the lack of ego or edge all remained. I found myself staring at her, studying her. I tried to remember when I first heard about Alyssa Roberts getting married. It was a few years after college, to some guy whose name sounded vaguely familiar. The news hadn’t shocked me. Seeing Alyssa without a ring did.
“What?” she asked, breaking my silence.
I hadn’t even noticed my sigh until it was all the way out.
“Just—being here—around college. Time can be a strange thing.”
“It doesn’t feel like ten years.”
“Eleven,” I said.
“Kirby said you’re looking for Alec.”
“Yeah. Trying to see if he’s still alive.”
“I’m surprised you guys didn’t stay in touch.”
“With Alec?” I shook my head. “It doesn’t surprise me. Then again, there was a lot of cleaning up I needed to do after college. One was my choice of friends. It was easy with Alec. He just disappeared.”
“Do you ever think about those days?”
I didn’t want to tell Alyssa the truth. “The more time goes by, the less I find to look back on.”
“I think of the person I used to be,” Alyssa said in earnest. “This little prim and proper girl working for the dean of students. It was unbelievable how sheltered I was. It was a hard adjustment after I graduated.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. I think it’s hard for everyone.”
“I just—if there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to do, Jake—I just want to apologize. …”
I looked at Alyssa in disbelief. “What for?”
“For being so judgmental.”
I laughed. “I was breaking rules, you know.”
“But more than that. There were a lot of things with you—with us. Things I regret.”
“You didn’t do anything to me, Alyssa. You were one of the few bright spots of Providence.”
“I just thought I knew exactly where I wanted to go and what my life should be like. That young naïve girl is gone.”
“I remember I really liked that girl,” I said.
She nodded and looked down at the table.
You’re still that girl, I thought. You will always be that girl.
We talked for a few minutes about superficial stuff. A thousand unspoken words and feelings between the two of us, and I found myself talking about the suburb of Summit or the new science building at Providence or listening to Alyssa talk about the house she lived in.
“Or, well, used to live in,” she corrected. “Before things basically got flushed down the toilet.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Yeah. Me too.”
She glanced over at me with those soft, haunting eyes I could still remember in my dreams.
“I just never thought I’d have to—that I would be sitting here talking to you about my failed—”
Alyssa couldn’t continue. The last few words cracked, and she composed herself.
“I feel like—this is weird, I know—I feel like this huge disappointment.”
I reached over and without a thought embraced her hand.
“Hey—I’m the last guy who would ever be disappointed in you. Come on. You remember who you’re talking to?”
“I really used to believe,” Alyssa said.
“Believe in what?”
“Believe in everything. Happily ever afters. The myth. The fairy tale.”
“That’s funny, ’cause I didn’t believe in anything.”
“Has that changed?”
“I think you’d be very surprised.”
She wanted and expected more, but I wasn’t ready. There were many things to tell her. Eleven years is hard to compress into one conversation.
“Let me show you something,” I told her.
I opened my wallet and slipped a finger inside one of the pockets. I produced a photo that had been cropped to fit and handed it to her.
She stared at it, her head shaking in disbelief. “I can’t believe you still have this,” she said, glancing at the photo and back at me.
“It’s gone everywhere I’ve ever gone since college. And let me tell you—that’s a lot of places.”
She continued to study the picture, her eyes teary.
“I always believed that at some point in my life, somewhere, I’d run into you again,” I said. “I didn’t know the circumstances and didn’t know the how, but I believed I’d see you again. And here we are.”
She nodded and handed the picture back to me.
I stared at it. It was taken my senior year at some party. I had my arm around Alyssa, who was laughing and trying to get out of my hug. Her smile told the truth. That there was a chance for the two of us.
Looking at Alyssa now, eleven years later, I wondered if that chance still existed.
NINE
January 1994
THE DOOR OPENED, and the pleasant look on Alyssa’s face faded when she saw him.
“Jake, look—”
“Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you. I gotta meet with her.”
“Ms. Peterson?”
“What—I’m not on your little planner?”
“She didn’t tell me about it.”
“She called this morning. Let’s call this unofficial business.”
The tall ruler figure of Ms. Peterson came to the doorway and nodded at Jake. “Come on in.”
She shut the door behind them.
“All right,” Jake said, sitting down in the familiar chair. “What’d I do this time?”
“You’re not in trouble, not this time.”
“I’m finally getting that student-of-the-year award?”
Ms. Peterson looked like a windup toy that wasn’t able to expend its energy. Her face was square, her hair shorter than Jake’s. When she looked at him, he thought he could chip ice with the edge of her jaw.
“A few teachers commented on the fact that they smelled liquor on your breath the morning of enrollment.”
Jake a
ppeared confused. He tried to remember enrollment. “What are you talking about?”
“Three different people told me that you came through the line inebriated and reeking of alcohol.”
“Maybe it’s just my minty mouthwash.”
“Jake, this isn’t funny.”
“Bad breath is nothing to laugh about.”
Ms. Peterson looked down at her desk, then darted her eyes back to him. “Someone reported seeing you in the parking lot drinking.”
“Are you serious?”
“Am I ever not?” she asked.
“What? Me and my flask bottle?”
“Jake, I think it’s a sign of a deeper problem.”
“Whoa, hold on. Look, I’m not going to deny my breath may have smelled like Milwaukee’s finest. But I wasn’t in the parking lot swigging gin. Come on.”
“How many times have you been in here, sitting across from me?”
“Sometimes you just can’t get enough of a good thing.”
“Nine times, not including today.”
“Did I set a record?”
Ms. Peterson shook her head. “You know, you can flash that smile and try to be cute with the girls, maybe even with some of the female profs, but that doesn’t get you anywhere in here.”
“So am I in trouble?”
“Not officially.”
“But unofficially, I’m what? Grounded?”
“Jake, I’m worried about you.”
“ ’cause I’m smoking in the boys’ room?”
“Because I believe you have a problem.”
Jake nodded, suddenly aware where this was heading. “Tell me something,” he said. “If you went to the University of Illinois or Wisconsin, what would you find kids my age doing?”
“This isn’t one of those universities.”
“Why single me out?”
“You signed a pledge before coming to Providence. You agreed to the rules, as much as you’ve fought to break them.”
“Everyone goes to parties and drinks around here,” he said. “I’m sorry to burst your bubble.”
“Not everyone.”
“Most everyone. And okay, maybe I smelled a little funky, but I’m not drinking in the parking lot, and I don’t have a problem.”
“What happens when you graduate?”
Jake shrugged. The almighty question. He didn’t have an answer.
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