Come Back To Me

by Melissa Foster

  Tess awoke to her stomach growling. “Don’t you worry, little one, I’ll feed you.” She patted her stomach, swelling with pride. It was Thursday, she realized, Sandwich night. She and Beau had named nights by what they’d done together, Thursday was sandwich night, Friday was book and brew night, hitting Barnes and Noble and a local brewery, Monday was fix-it-yourself night, where they ate leftovers or whatever looked enticing at the moment. Revisiting old habits brought the ever-present shadow of sadness.

  She drove toward the convenience store, the slow drivers plucking at her nerves. By the time she reached the convenience store, she could feel the redness in her cheeks, knew there was a sneer on her lips. Goddamn sandwich night. She shouldn’t have to do this alone. Who was she kidding?

  She walked determinedly into the store, picked up bread and turkey, and stared accusingly at the roast beef, Beau’s favorite. Tears welled in her eyes. Damn it. She turned away and strode toward the register.

  “Hungry?” The kid behind the register couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old, with surf-ready bangs that hid his eyes and a rail-skinny body.

  Too many drugs and not enough food, Tess thought to herself. “Yes,” she said, pushing her money across the counter.

  “Cool,” he reached for the money, moving as if he were in slow motion.

  Tess’s foot tapped. Her impatience at ineptitude had returned, taking her by surprise. She hadn’t felt that particular frustration since she’d arrived. She stilled her foot. “Thank you,” she said.

  “No prob. Enjoy,” the kid said.

  ***

  Tess put the food away, thinking of the young cashier, and envying his relaxed attitude. She poured herself a virgin daiquiri. At this rate I’d be drunk every day, she chuckled. She reached for a napkin, stopping mid-reach. The coasters were still in the drawer, but she could feel them in her hand. Her nerves tingled. Oh, how she’d missed the safety and neatness of the coasters! She retrieved the stack of them from the drawer, welcoming their familiar size and shape. She set them out on the small round table in a perfect parade in order of color, darkest to lightest, then reversing the order. She stacked them, widest to narrowest, then replaced them in the original order she’d arranged. She spread her hands flat on the table before her, as if she could create an impenetrable space between her and the coasters, and stared at them. Her heartbeat quickened, pounding against her chest, her obsession returning.

  The first time the coasters had soothed her, she’d been only a child. Her father and mother had been fighting—again. It had seemed to seven-year-old Tess that they fought almost every day and there was nothing she could do about it. Tess remembered the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, the fear as she had withdrawn to the kitchen, and the calming sensation the coasters had brought.

  She closed her eyes now, as she remembered the party she’d thrown for Beau, the way she’d felt when Kevin hadn’t used a coaster. The way she’d felt when Beau had. Goosebumps formed on her arms. The return of her desire to control the coasters pressed in on her. She didn’t know if she was climbing out of her depression, or falling back into it.

  “Goddamn it!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Friday morning, Tess was up with the sun and full of determination. She peddled down the main drag, driven by her newfound conviction. She’d take control of her life, and she’d be damned if she’d let self-pity—or men—dissuade her. At six-fifty, she pulled up in front of the convenience store. It was closed. She decided to wait the ten minutes for it to open, parked her bike, and impatiently tapped her foot on the pavement. At five after seven, she paced, her arms crossed across her chest. At seven-twenty, she threw her hands up in the air and climbed back onto her bike.

  Surfer-boy walked around the corner, his shirt rumpled, hair askew, eyes barely open. “Oh, hey,” he said, nonchalantly, “Sorry I’m late. Rough night,” he laughed.

  “Right,” Tess climbed back down from her bike and stood behind him, breathing heavily.

  “Wrapped a little tight?” he said in an I-have-no-idea-I’m-being-rude fashion.

  Tess walked past him and grabbed a Luna Bar and a bottle of water. She slammed them on the counter and looked away.

  “Luna Bar? Dude, do you even know what you’re eating? This stuff isn’t fit for animals.”

  “I’m not a dude, and yes, I know exactly what I’m eating. I’ve been eating them for ten years.”

  “Gnarly,” he said and rang up her purchase. He put the items in a bag, held it close to his chest, and stared at her.

  “What?” Tess snapped.

  The left side of his lips lifted into a cockeyed smile. He shrugged. “Just trying to figure you out. You’re here alone, right?”

  Not by choice. Tess rolled her eyes.

  “To de-stress? Isn’t that what you call it, de-stressing?” When she didn’t answer he said, “Chillin’, you know.”

  Tess sighed loudly and reached her hand out for the bag.

  “Thought so. You know, this is the perfect place for chillin’. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Is it now?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Yup, taking a year off from my master’s program. Physics.”

  Tess smirked.

  “I know, right? Me, physics? That’s what everyone thinks. I’m smart. 3.8 GPA.”

  Tess felt her jaw slacken.

  “You see me, and you think, that dude’s nothin’, lazy kid who does nothin’ but hang at the beach.” He handed her his bag and turned away to straighten the shelves.

  Tess flushed. He was dead-on. She was such a mess, even her efforts at relaxing had failed. She could be there to help Alice heal, but she couldn’t even keep a band aid on her own wounds. She walked out the door, her head hung a little lower than it was when she’d first arrived.

  ***

  Tess stood on the balcony watching the sunrise, contemplating her latest craving—bacon and eggs. She showered, dressed, and drove back to the convenience store.

  “Forget something?” surfer boy asked with a touch of sarcasm.

  Tess ignored his remark. She was feeling more in control by the moment, and she wasn’t going to let some college dropout ruin her morning. She grabbed the groceries and set them on the counter.

  “You are hungry,” he said, slowly picking up each item, inspecting it for a price, and then punching the numbers into the cash register. “Cool, bacon.”

  “Can you please just hurry?” Shit, that was rude. “Sorry, I’m just hungry.”

  He stopped ringing up the items and looked at her. “Got a date or just hungry?” he ran his hand through his hair, revealing eyes an even brighter blue than Tess’s.

  “Uh…hungry,” Tess fiddled with her wallet.

  “Y’oughtta try English’s breakfast buffet. It’s the bomb.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do that,” she said, wishing he’d hurry.

  He totaled the register and looked toward the door, making no effort to take Tess’s money. “Ya know,” he said, “I used to be like you, all tied up in knots all the time, rushing from one thing to the next. Then I realized that life is going to happen whether I rush through it or not.” He shrugged and accepted her money. “Might as well enjoy it a little.”

  Tess wondered why getting back into her old routine made her feel like she was relaxing, when all it was really doing was creating a mandate for things she had to get done in a specific fashion.

  As she drove toward the condo, she thought of surfer boy. What right did he have to make her feel bad about her life? She had finally been feeling more in control. Damn it! Heat rushed up her chest. By the time she arrived she was livid. She walked in the door, picked up the socks she’d left on the floor, threw away the bottle from her daiquiri, lined up the coasters, and vacuumed and dusted the entire condo. She flopped on to the couch. She was back. She was in control. Damn you surfer and your wayward ideas. We’ll see where you end up in two years. “Physics,” she laughed.

  Still, she
couldn’t shake the feeling that her life was spiraling in a whirlpool and she was just trying to stay afloat. Maybe I am tied in knots. Stuck. Tess thought about Beau. “He’s not coming back,” she said aloud. She knew she had to let him go, but she had, hadn’t she? She’d boxed up his belongings. She’d even kissed Louie. What am I doing? How can I create a future for my baby if I can’t move beyond the past?

  ***

  Tess packed and unpacked her bag—twice. She stormed into the kitchen and put the coasters ceremoniously into the drawer. “I don’t need you,” she scoffed, and slapped her hands together as if wiping off dirt.

  Tess parked in front of the convenience store, which was closed, of course, and handwrote a note. Thank you. If you ever need help finding a professional job, call me. She crumpled it up, and began again. Thank you, she wrote, and signed it, the pregnant woman who was tied in knots. Pregnant. Just writing the word made her happy. She headed toward English’s for their breakfast buffet, and then drove toward home, determined to set her life on the right path.

  Tess watched the beach town fall away in the rearview mirror. “Okay, gnarly boy, here goes. Time to let go, enjoy life.”

  Tess breezed through the front door of her house, pausing momentarily as thoughts of Beau billowed around her. She pushed the thoughts of him away, determined not to spend any more time pining for someone who would never return. She threw her bags on the couch, each step toward the front door filled with resolve. Enjoy life a little, she thought. That’s just what I intend to do.

  The house phone rang as she pulled the door closed behind her. She stood on the porch contemplating the phone call. Her heartbeat sped up as she listened to the incessant ringing. She put her keys into the lock and turned, feeling the deadbolt slide open. There was a tightening around Tess’s eyes. She bit her lower lip and shook her head, No. I’m not doing this. No more pining. She spun on her heels, pulled the door closed behind her, and headed for her car.

  Tess started the Prius and gripped the leather steering wheel, her muscles taut. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she turned off the car and climbed back out, heading for the house.

  Tess opened the drawer next to the refrigerator and stared at the coasters. “Shut up,” she commanded. She gathered them, fumbling with the awkward mass in her arms. Tess stared at them for a long time, her parents’ arguments echoed in her mind. She understood the reasons she felt the need to control her environment, but even with that control, that modicum of making things right in her life, Beau still was taken away. Let go of your crutches, Tess, she told herself. She tried forcing a laugh, emitting a half-grunt instead.

  Tess thought of Alice and all she’d been through, her need to control the intimacy in her life. She thought of Kevin’s visits, how they abruptly ended when she wouldn’t let Beau go, and how much she missed his positive energy. Control. She tried to attach some element of control to Beau’s need for international exposure. “Come on,” she urged herself. Her shoulders slumped. It was no use. Beau hadn’t been seeking control at all. She leaned against the counter, talking as if she were speaking to a friend. “He’s gone. All the coasters in the world won’t bring him back.” She closed her eyes, willing herself to be strong. She held the coasters above the trash, hesitated and turned back to the drawer. “You’re a crutch!” she seethed. “You didn’t do a damn thing but distract me.” Tess’s face reddened. “I’m tired of waiting, tired of wondering.” She quickly threw the pile of coasters into the trash, breathing heavily and staring blankly at the colors and shapes which seemed to be pointing at her. Before she could change her mind, she rushed out the front door.

  Germany

  The dirt on Beau’s hands and face felt as if it were ground into his skin. He reached up to run his hand through his hair, his fingers caught in the tangled mess. He craved a real shower.

  Samira and her children sat on metal chairs just outside the small room where Beau sat in front of a large army-issue desk, the black telephone before him. He would finally hear her voice. His heart leapt against his chest as he dialed her cell phone number. The ringing phone was like music to his ears. Pick up, Tess. Please, pick up.

  “Hi, this is Tess Johnson. You’ve reached my voice mail.”

  “Damn,” Beau disconnected the call and dialed their home phone number so fast that he almost misdialed. He breathed hard, anticipating her voice—six rings, seven, eight. Beau closed his eyes, wondering why the answering machine wasn’t picking up. He wanted so badly to speak to Tess that his chest ached with disappointment.

  Beau took a deep breath and dialed Kevin’s number. He answered on the second ring.

  “Kevin? It’s Beau,” Beau listened to the stunned silence. “Kevin?”

  “Who is this?” Kevin sounded as if he might climb through the phone line and pummel him.

  “Kevin! It’s me. It’s Beau, man. I’m in Germany.”

  “What the—”

  “Kevin, listen. Do you know where Tess is?” he asked. Before Kevin could answer he said, “Listen, Kev, there was an accident, but I survived it. It’s a long story, but listen, please. I’m coming home.”

  “Beau?”

  Beau pushed past the shock in Kevin’s voice, unable to slow his words. “I want to surprise Tess. I couldn’t reach her, but, please, don’t tell her I’m coming home. I’ve got a day of processing here, but then I’m coming home,” the words tasted sweet on Beau’s tongue. “I’m coming home, man. Can you get me at the airport?”

  “What? Yeah,” Kevin took a deep breath. “Beau, we thought you were dead,” his voice cracked with emotion. A moment of silence stretched between them. “Man, it’s good to hear your voice. Are you okay? What are you doing in Germany?”

  “I’ll tell you everything when I get back, it’s complicated. Please, Kevin, don’t tell Tess. I want to be the one to tell her. I want to see her face. God, I want to see her face.” Beau reached for Tess’s picture. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?” Beau pleaded, excited about his plan.

  “What about your parents? They had a memorial for you. God, Beau, you’re alive, man, alive!”

  Sadness settled as a lump in Beau’s throat. He was unable to hold back the tears that filled his eyes. “Don’t say a word—to anyone. I want to tell them,” his voice cracked. My parents. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “I wanna be the one to tell them, please.”

  ***

  Two American soldiers entered the barren, narrow hallway, their boots clomping loudly as they neared Samira. She stared at the floor, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. A rush of cool air startled Samira as the men passed by. She wished Beau would come out of the room. She looked at her children, each on a cold metal chair, dark moons under their little eyes, the boys’ feet swaying beneath them, Athra’s curled under her little body. Fear prickled Samira’s limbs. Where would she go? What would she do without Suha? She couldn’t speak the language, save for a few broken sentences. What had she been thinking? She’d had no business leaving Iraq. Who was she to think she could give her children something more than a life of fear? They’d still live in fear, she thought, just a different type of fear.

  Beau sat in the empty chair next to Samira and let out a long sigh.

  “All is good?” she asked in a tiny, tentative voice.

  Fear shadowed Samira’s eyes. Lines had formed around her lips, and her body sagged, fatigued. She watched Beau as he looked down at his own clothing, then back at the children’s—stained, wrinkled, their eyes haunted, untrusting. Embarrassment reddened her cheeks.

  Edham slipped off his chair and walked sleepily to Beau who lifted him off of the linoleum floor and into his lap without so much as a thought. Edham had become like a fifth limb.

  Samira watched her son settle against Beau’s chest. Her lower lip began to quiver. Beau reached for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers, and squeezed, ever so lightly. The ends of her lips lifted, and she closed her eyes.

  It was Zeid who spoke the truth, rattling Bea
u to his core. “No one wants special marbles.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Beau looked out the window of the airplane as it descended onto the runway. I never thought Dulles Airport would look so good, he thought.

  Edham’s nails dug into his arm.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Beau said, and he glanced at Samira across the aisle. Beau looked into her beautiful, dark eyes and thought he saw a twinkle of hope. He smiled.

  The plane jolted forward as it touched down, then slowed with the high-pitched sound of speed against brakes.

  Athra screamed.

  Samira wrapped her thin arms around Athra’s tiny, shaking body, and looked over her shoulder at Beau, a pleading look in her eyes.

  “She’s scared. She remembers Suha,” Beau said, then reached across the aisle and touched Samira’s back, as if to say, It’s okay, I’m right here.

  Athra calmed, and Edham clenched Beau’s arm in a death grip. Zeid stared straight ahead, his muscles taut. Beau knew it must have taken all of Zeid’s will not to let his fear become apparent.

  ***

  “Samira?” The gray-haired woman extended her hand, accompanied by a broad, welcoming smile. “This must be Zeid, Edham, and Athra. I’m Sandra Wallace, Colonel Larner had asked that we get you settled at the army base for a few days, just until you’re situated with where you’ll be staying.”