by Claire Raye
I never wanted to believe that was true because there is nothing like the feeling of falling in love so hard it exhausts your life.
Alice doesn’t respond to my comments and I really don’t expect her to. If you haven’t done something like this before, it’s all very strange. Showing up at people’s homes, their jobs, even at one time, I met a man in the parking lot of his local gym after his workout.
Most of the time it isn’t stalker-like, although it sounds that way when I talk about. I never harass or chase a person who has told me to leave. I don’t go to their homes multiple times or constantly email them. I just fade away. I also make it a point to shred all the information I receive from the PI after I return home. It makes me feel less intrusive to know I don’t have piles of personal information lying around my house for countless men named Elliot.
“Tomorrow,” I say to Alice, “I plan on being stealthy just for you.”
“Yes,” she breathes out and I giggle.
Chapter Four
“Do you ever duplicate Elliots?” Alice asks, as we’re getting ready to leave the hotel. “Like find the same one twice?”
“Yeah. I keep a list of all the first and last names with the city or town they live in, but it still happens,” I say and shrug my shoulders. “I tried to keep the same investigator to avoid it, but that didn’t work either. Some left the field, others weren’t available when I needed them or I simply didn’t like them, so I just try my best not to contact the same one over again.”
I’ve only duplicated four times throughout this whole search, which doesn’t seem so bad given I’ve been at this for twelve years. The people I contacted were far more understanding than I think I would have been. I’m certain after some whack job proceeded to fill me in on their stupid story of finding a lost love for a second time, I’d have told them to fuck off.
“I don’t know how you keep track of it all,” Alice says like she’s mesmerized by my ability to organize ten plus years of information.
“When you’re driven by the thought of finding a person you’ve looked for all these years, the process becomes second nature,” I say, but my voice is flat. I look down at my hands as they rest against the steering wheel wondering if I can really continue what I’m doing. The more I share with Alice the more I realize I can’t go on doing this forever. I will eventually have to give up.
“I guess that would be true. Just like anything you work at for a long period of time, you find the best way to do it.”
After we’re both settled in the car, I type the address into the GPS and wait for it to map the best route.
The notes from the PI said this Elliot tends to get coffee at a Starbucks on Greentree Road and then he heads to his office a few miles away. He rarely uses the drive-thru, so if he decides to stop for coffee today, getting a glimpse of him should be pretty easy. I have a description of his car, which will make it easier for us if he does show up.
I fill Alice in and of course she’s starving, so she claims we must go inside so she can get something to eat. But I shoo her off and wait in the parking lot not wanting to miss my opportunity.
She’s back a little while later and asks, “Anything go down with the stake out while I was gone?”
“Nope,” I say as Alice hands me a lemon scone and an iced coffee. “Thanks and by the way, we’re looking for a black Audi sedan.”
“Sweet,” Alice responds. “Maybe it’ll be him and maybe he’ll be loaded and you’ll finally be able to quit that time suck you call a job and write something you love.”
Her sentence annoys the writer in me, a series of strung together thoughts connected with the word and. But I understand the sentiment behind her words and it makes me smile a little.
We’re sitting in the car eating, probably looking ridiculous given we could be inside sitting at a table, but I don’t know exactly what this Elliot looks like. The only information I have is the car and I don’t want to miss it.
A few seconds later Alice is flapping her hands and gasping.
“Look,” she says, loudly as it echoes throughout the car. I whip my head around to see a black Audi sedan pull into the parking lot and park in a spot two away from the one we are currently parked in.
My heart begins to race, a crazy mix of nervousness, fear and excitement colliding together. You’d think after all this time, after all the letdowns, I wouldn’t find myself feeling all these emotions, but each time it’s the same. The rush of possibly finding him is almost too much to bear.
A strange feeling forms in my chest, a tight breathlessness, as I feel myself grow dizzy. I feel as if I want to flee, but then I can’t look away.
What if it’s him?
What if it isn’t?
I watch the man exit his car. He’s wearing a black suit and he’s handsome, but it only takes a second for it all to come crashing down. Whatever emotions I was feeling have now ceased and I’m back to normal. At least what I’ve come to know as feeling normal in this case. Normal has become feeling defeated, letdown and hurt. Desperate and delusional, after twelve years of searching, I’m starting to think I enjoy the pain of feeling lost.
“It isn’t him,” I say, pointblank as I throw the car into reverse.
“What?!” Alice shouts. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s it?” She’s now shouting even louder, her hand is on my forearm as if she’s trying to stop me from putting the car in gear. “How do you even know? You looked at him for like two seconds.”
I can hear the anger and frustration in her tone already. We have five more stops to make before San Diego and in all honesty, this is how they generally go down. Occasionally I’ll stop and talk with some of them, especially if I’m not certain they’re Elliot, but most of the time, I see them and know immediately.
“He’s too short,” I respond back quickly.
“This is ridiculous. How the fuck can you know that from just glancing at him?”
“I just know!” I say, but it comes out in a harsh yell that startles Alice and makes me feel guilty.
“Fine,” she answers back just as sharply and I deserve it.
I pull out of the parking lot, heading back to the hotel to gather our things and move on to our next stop. I say nothing more to Alice, who is now sulking in the passenger’s seat, huffing and mumbling under her breath.
She doesn’t understand and I don’t expect her to, but I’d also like a certain amount of respect for what I’m doing and for me. She’s the one who wanted to tag along. I never agreed to do things her way.
After a silence that drags on far too long for Alice’s liking she asks, “How did you know it wasn’t him?”
“Elliot was tall, a lot taller than me even at nineteen. That man was shorter than me.”
“You know you could just have the investigator send you pictures of these people and you wouldn’t have to waste your time on this,” Alice responds, but again, she doesn’t understand my need to find him and why I do the things I do.
“I know, Alice,” I retort, my tone sharp.
“I guess I don’t understand what you’re doing,” she says, sounding perturbed.
“I don’t expect you to.”
Alice waits a moment, like she’s trying to choose her words wisely. I don’t think she intends to piss me off with her comments. She wets her lips and lets out a long sigh.
“I want to help you, Nora, but you’re going to have to give me something here. I don’t have any idea what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. There’s that whole true love, love at first sight, soulmate bullshit, but I think it’s become far more than that. I don’t even think you know what you’re doing anymore.”
Processing what Alice just said I know there’s some truth to her words. There are times I don’t know why I’m still searching for Elliot, yet I still do it.
“Alice…” I start, but her name falls from my lips in almost a reprimand.
I start again, lessening my tone and reminding myself that Alice means wel
l. “Before I met Elliot, I knew exactly what I wanted out of my life. There was no doubt in my mind that I would go off to NYU, finish school and become a writer. And it wasn’t like that all changed after I met Elliot, I just felt lost, suddenly.” I stop and swallow trying to dislodge the lump that forms in my throat. “There was a brokenness inside me and there still is. This helps ease some of it.”
Before Elliot, I could be alone, alone with my thoughts, alone in my home without feeling like I was missing something. But after Elliot, I began to feel less alone. I began to feel lonely.
At this point, I’m not sure if Alice wants to help me find Elliot or if she just wants to help me move beyond the obsessiveness of searching for him. She won’t be the reason I give up. I won’t be swayed by her annoyance over my need to accomplish this every year.
“Does it really?” she asks incredulously.
I don’t bother responding to her, I can tell she’s looking to argue with me and I won’t give her the satisfaction.
But I understand why she asked. I’m not certain it helps anything, besides making me feel further and further away from Elliot and that day on the beach. I like to think it does me good to search the country for him, like it quells my need to find him just a little. But it doesn’t really work like that.
We arrive back at the hotel and without telling Alice, she begins to pack up her things. I figure she’s packing so she can leave this runaway train she boarded with me. But she turns to me and asks if the car is unlocked, and then adds, “Windy City, here we come.”
I smile, grateful that she doesn’t want to bail. As much as she’s driving me crazy, it feels good to have her along. Rarely do the two of us spend any time together. We were never close growing up, only spending time together due to the fact we were sisters. We’ve always been opposites and I found it hard to relate to her. I imagine she felt the same way.
But our relationship is strange. She’s always known she could rely on me, even though I’ve never felt that in return with her. Maybe this is her way of making it up to me for all those years she took advantage of my kindness.
The drive time from Pittsburgh to Chicago is brutal. The traffic is relentless, but Alice offers to drive somewhere in Ohio and the time passes just as slowly, but at least without the road rage.
“Tell me more about Elliot,” Alice says, a sweet tone to her voice, a realistic happiness that is rarely present. Alice is happy almost all the time, but it’s a fake happiness, one you can tell is forced. She has always felt the need to present herself in a certain way, but with me, I see the real Alice.
“What do you want to know?” I ask, understanding she doesn’t know much and really neither do I.
“What did he look like?”
“He was handsome in that California surfer boy way,” I say smiling at the memory. “He hit on me at that frat party and you know that kind of shit does nothing for me. But with him,” I stop as I feel my heartbeat accelerate at just the thought of his voice. The fact that his memory can still elicit this response makes me think all this time I’ve spent searching for him hasn’t been in vain. “I don’t know. There was something about him that I was drawn to, like I was meant to find him.”
I stop again as I look over at Alice, knowing how she thinks all of this is bullshit, but I see a smile form on her lips.
“I know you think all this love at first sight shit is just that, but that’s what it felt like. He had messy sun bleached hair and a deep tan and the most amazing blue eyes. As cliché as this sounds, they were the color of the ocean, strikingly beautiful.”
“I don’t think it’s shit. I’ve just been jaded by life,” she responds, yet still smiling. “I guess I’ve felt something like that too, but what makes me think it isn’t entirely real, is that it all faded for me. I married too quickly based on what I thought was love, but looking back it was always lust. Never what you describe with Elliot.”
“It can be good to live in the moment and not worry about what the future might bring,” I say, trying to make her feel less guilty for her poor life choices.
“Fuck off,” Alice says with humor in her voice. “You’ve always been the voice of reason, yet you can still somehow make me feel alright with the fact that I continually fuck up.”
“I’m not going to come right out and say you have issues. We all do. Look at me. I’m driving cross-country for the twelfth time searching for a guy who probably remembers me as a crappy lay on the beach. If he even remembers me.”
Alice laughs a little and adds, “It makes you human. Without this weird flaw in your life, you’re fucking perfect.”
We talk more about Elliot and what I remember about him. While I feel like my memory of him is as clear as the day we met, I know things are probably embellished or remembered with a fondness that makes them slightly unrealistic. Eventually they will vanish or fade into something they were never meant to be. I think time has a way of adjusting your memories to fit how you’re feeling, and with Elliot, I know that while they’ve stayed clear for twelve years, they will ultimately disappear. Leaving me with nothing more than twelve years of wasted time.
We hit Chicago around seven that evening with both of us exhausted from driving, but me feeling more emotionally drained than anything. I’m not sure how long I can carry on and not find Elliot.
We’re staying in the suburbs, about twenty miles outside of the city, and so far the plan is to go by this Elliot’s house. It’s late July and tomorrow is Saturday, so the hope is that he’ll happen to be outside. If not, I’ll end up having to ring his doorbell. Something I’ve grown more comfortable with, but it’s still not ideal.
The information I have from the PI, says he’s been living in the Chicago area for the last ten years and is now married. He works as an accountant in the city, which, to me, doesn’t sound like something the Elliot I met would have chosen as a career. The description fits him, but that’s about all. I have already set myself up for the fact that it isn’t him and I have even debated about having the PI just email me a picture to save myself the hassle and the stress of finding out.
But the next morning Alice and I are following the directions the GPS has mapped out and we’re about to find out what I already know.
Pulling up in front of a two-story brick house in a typical Chicago suburb; we find ourselves lucky, because this Elliot happens to be out front mowing his lawn. I pull up to the curb and look over at Alice before I turn my eyes to the man pushing the mower.
He’s the right height, his hair is dirty blonde and I can feel my heart rate begin to increase, thinking maybe, just maybe I’ve found him. Every moment from that day on the beach comes flooding back to me. His smile, his beautiful blue eyes, the way he made me feel and the sound of his laughter. His back is to me and his build is similar, but that’s where it ends. When he turns around, I know instantly it’s not him.
“It’s not him,” I say, sounding defeated.
“You sure?” Alice asks, but this time it’s a question that has more pity than annoyance.
“Yeah, I’m sure. His nose is different, the shape of his eyes. It’s not him.”
I pull away from the house as I feel the tears begin to well up in my eyes. I don’t know why I continually do this to myself. The loss I feel is almost as bad as the broken heart I’ve lived with for over a decade. Each time I do this and it’s not Elliot, a part of my heart breaks all over again. I used to find solace in all of this, but over the past few years, it’s become harder and harder to cope with not finding him.
“It’s okay,” Alice says, reassuringly.
I nod my head, but I know it’s not. It’s just a lie I tell myself so I can keep going.
“How about we go see the city?” Alice says, cheerfully. “You’ve never been to Chicago. I can show you where I lived. We can see the bean and Navy Pier, you know the usual touristy shit.”
I stop myself from disagreeing, even though that’s my first instinct. I don’t generally deviate from the
schedule, although I’m not sure why. I always feel like I have to follow it religiously, which is just plain stupid. I never enjoy these trips and sometimes they take up all my vacation time, leaving nothing left for me to take a trip I might actually have fun on.
“Okay,” I say, grinning at Alice. “Let’s do it.”
“Seriously?” she questions, her eyebrows raised as if she’s completely shocked by my response.
“Yep.”
We spend the rest of the day seeing the sights of Chicago and eating deep-dish pizza and Garrett’s popcorn. Alice has her camera out the entire time, taking pictures of everything and telling me how much she misses living in Chicago.
Alice lived in Chicago before moving to New York. It was one of the many places she’s lived over the last ten years. And while she says New York is just a massive version of Chicago, it’s still not the same.
We find ourselves laughing and having more fun together than we’ve had in years. Alice has me pose in front of the bean while she takes a series of pictures of me from different angles. Later on she joins me and holding the camera at arms length, she takes a bunch of the two of us.
We end the night with a pricey dinner at the Capital Grill, stuffed but happy. Despite everything in me telling me to keep moving forward, to keep searching for Elliot, this short break from it is exactly what I needed.
Chapter Five
After spending the day navigating Chicago, Alice and I are up at the crack of dawn and on our way to a small town in South Dakota called Vermillion. It’s a farming community, but mostly it’s known for being the home of The University of South Dakota.
Since leaving Chicago, Alice has been Googling the town and giving me shit for thinking Elliot could possibly live in this small ass town in the middle of nowhere.
“He was from California, Nora. Why would he suddenly want to live off the land in the middle of fucking corn?”
