“I like hearing your voice,” he said when she tried to tell him good-night instead of answering another question about her travels in Europe.
“I already told you about the best places I photographed and most of my wacky adventures. What else do you want to know?”
“Why are you teaching in California instead of here?”
She didn’t answer immediately. She had asked herself that same question many times, even before her extended stay these last few months. “I guess I’d been away for so long that coming back to Portland seemed like taking a step backwards, if that makes any sense. I worked very hard to become independent and live adventurously,” she laughed. “I didn’t want to lose my new identity, I suppose.”
“What language did you say you teach?”
“French and German.”
“You speak both?”
“Yes. I majored in French and German at Stanford. I also lived in Paris for six months, a small village in Provence for nine, and I studied in Berlin for three. There’s no faster way to become fluent. That’s how I picked up Italian and Spanish, just by spending some time in Italy and Spain.”
“Let me get this straight. You speak five languages, including English?”
“Well, only three fluently. The others I only know enough to sound more like a local than a tourist.”
“You are amazing.”
“Not really. I have a unique ability to pick up different languages. I don’t have to work at it like most people.”
“I still think you’re amazing.”
She smiled and wished they weren’t talking over the phone. Surely two hours on the phone qualified as a third date.
“Je crois que vous êtes gentil.”
“What was that?”
“That’s French for, I think you’re sweet.”
They were both quiet for a moment, then Michael asked, “Do you have many friends there, in Europe?”
She detected a strange inflection in his voice when he asked that. “What are you asking me, Michael?”
He laughed nervously. “Uh-oh. Not smooth enough?”
“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
“Well, you’ve talked about wanting to go back there, and it makes me wonder if there’s someone special waiting for you.”
She didn’t know what to say. Of course there was Samuel. He was definitely a friend, and she had hoped he would be more, but it had never happened. He didn’t even know where she was now. Wanting to go back to Europe had more to do with her career as a photographer and her love for the area, not him. But Michael was asking her an honest question--one that wasn’t easy for him to ask, she knew. He deserved an honest answer.
“Well, yes. I have a good friend who lives in London. But that’s all he is. I haven’t had any contact with him since last summer. If I went back I’d like to see him again, but he’s not the reason I would go back. Does that answer your question?”
“I think so,” he laughed. “I’m sorry if that came out weird. But you are a very beautiful and special woman, Natalie, and I have a hard time believing no one has claimed you yet.”
“Claimed me?”
“Yeah, you know. Called you his own. Told the whole world how much he loves you. Asked you to be his forever.”
“Wow! Do men still do that?”
He laughed. “Well, I don’t know how many of us are left, but I will. The day I fall in love, she is going to know it, and I’m never letting her get away.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
On Sunday morning Natalie sat beside Allison during the morning Bible class as usual. After four months of attending church for the first time in her twenty-six years, she wasn’t sure what kept bringing her back. She didn’t see God as something she needed in her life. If he was real--great. She had someone looking out for her. If he wasn’t--no big deal, her life would go on.
“Have you decided about the retreat?” Allison whispered as various announcements were being made.
“When is it again?”
“Next weekend!” Allison said, sounding exasperated. “You have to come. It’s going to be a blast.”
A blast? Okay, whatever you say, Barbie. Natalie liked Allison, she really did, but sometimes she seemed almost too happy. “I guess,” she heard herself say, not wanting to sound too committal. She figured Allison would leave her alone, and she could casually say she forgot later.
Allison leapt out of her chair, scurried to the back table, and returned with a sheet of paper in her hand. “Here, fill out the registration form. The money is due today to reserve your spot.”
Natalie took the paper from her. Allison handed her a pen as well and smiled, flashing her pearly whites like she had just won the blue ribbon at the state fair.
Okay. There is no way I’m getting out of this now. Oh well, I don’t have anything to do next weekend anyway. Daddy wasn’t coming home for awhile. Josie was living happily with her new husband. Michael would probably be gone again.
She filled out the information on the sheet and wrote a check for the full amount, which didn’t seem too bad for three days and two nights at the beach. She figured she would have lots of time to take pictures while they were there.
Allison beamed again, took the form and check from her hands and went to give them to someone sitting a few rows ahead. She patted her on the knee when she returned. “We’re going to have so much fun,” she bubbled.
Natalie had to give Allison credit for looking at life with such childlike eagerness. She hoped Allison could keep that youthful spirit until the harsh reality of life made its rude entry. Her life in Brazil as a missionaries’ daughter must have been very sheltered, she concluded.
Natalie felt more perplexed when she mentioned her decision to go on the retreat to Josie that afternoon. Her sister had invited her to lunch, and she had met Brandon, Josie, and Tommy at Newport Bay on the waterfront.
“I’m glad you decided to go,” Josie said, sounding as if she knew Allison had been pestering her about it. She had never said anything to Josie about it before.
Josie began telling her about a retreat she had gone on a few years back with the singles’ group from church as well. Natalie thought it sounded interesting. She had never heard of grown-ups going away like this--as if they were children going away to summer camp. Well it’s sure to be an adventure, if nothing else.
On Monday Natalie left early in the morning, setting out for a three-day excursion to Silver Falls State Park. She had plenty of time before Mr. Trent needed the photos, but a week of clear skies had been predicted--something not seen too often in April, the famous month for spring showers in her native wet state. She decided to take advantage of the nice weather while she had the chance.
She navigated her way down the freeway, onto a highway heading east, and then south to the eight-thousand-acre park consisting of seven miles of hiking trails through Silver Creek Canyon, ten waterfalls, and several campsites.
Natalie spent the day familiarizing herself with the trails and trying to decide which times of the day would yield the best lighting for the various sections Mr. Trent wanted photographed. She talked to a park ranger, and she had some good advice and secret trails to tell her about where she could find the best angles.
She finished up the day by taking some late evening shots of the famous South Falls cascading 177 feet to the creek bed below. Her car was parked just up the trail near the main lodge, and she lingered as long as the acceptable light lasted before packing up her camera and tripod and heading for the parking area. She planned to check into a motel somewhere along the highway leading back to civilization. The weather was too cold to stay overnight and camp, and the few cabins available for overnight lodging were more suitable for a romantic getaway than staying at alone.
Searching her bag for her keys, she didn’t find them in the front pouch where she normally kept them. She checked inside and some additional pockets but came up empty.
Oh-no, not again. She peer
ed through the driver’s side window. Sure enough, there her keys dangled, still in the ignition. It was a bad habit she fell into from time to time ever since she had first gotten her license at sixteen. Now she was really glad she had decided to park near the lodge instead of one of the more remote parking areas where she would have to hike several miles to get help.
Taking her bag with her, she went to the lodge and found a telephone with an emergency number posted on the wall. She dialed it and told the park ranger her dilemma. Five minutes later an SUV entered the parking lot and the ranger hopped out, grabbing a slim-jim from the back.
I must be more careful when I’m out alone in the wilderness where my cell phone doesn’t work. She’d been lucky this time, but she didn’t want to think about being stranded somewhere in the dark. She hated the dark--always had. One of the few drawbacks to being a photographer. Sometimes setting out for an early morning shoot required heading out before dawn, as did finishing up after sunset. She avoided both as much as possible. Someone else could reap the rewards of such unabashed dedication.
The following morning she woke to the sound of rain outside her motel room that was just outside the park’s boundaries. So much for the weatherman’s sunny forecast. She got out of bed anyway, hoping the rain would subside by the time she reached her destination just after dawn. It didn’t, but she hiked down the trail anyway and did the best she could. She knew something surprising might await her when she got these developed. She had gotten some unique results in poor weather before. Wetness may be what the bright green leaves of spring needed to bring out their best color.
The next day proved to be better, and she hiked all day, finishing up her list of “must haves” and many of her own choices. She left the park after dark and didn’t get home until late. She had four messages waiting on her phone. Two of them were from Michael. She hadn’t told him she was going to be gone for a few days. She noticed the concern in his voice on the second message that he’d left earlier this evening.
“Okay, I guess I’ll have to leave another message. I’ll admit I’m a bit worried about not hearing from you. You aren’t mad at me, are you? If you are, please at least call me and tell me you’re all right. Not that I have to know where you are at all times, but I’m really anxious to hear your voice and know that you are safe. I guess I’ll have to be content to pray and trust that God is looking out for you. I shouldn’t expect any less of Him, right? Okay then, I’ll wait patiently by the phone and try not to worry. I don’t care what time it is--call me when you get this message. Please?”
Natalie smiled and felt like crying. He cared about where she was, if she was all right. She hadn’t had that from anyone besides her sister for a very long time. He said he didn’t care what time it was, but she didn’t want to bother him this late.
She had been afraid to hope for too much in their budding relationship. They hadn’t spent much time together, and she didn’t have any reason to think he had any intention of getting serious anytime soon. She had been in this situation before. She never had a problem attracting guys. It wasn’t something she had to work at. A natural beauty, her mother had always called her.
Staying interested in them or having them continue to pursue her was another story. Oftentimes the ones she liked faded away without ever knowing why. The thought that Michael might be another on that list sent a mixture of fear and longing through her. She wasn’t sure what it was about him, but he had taken her to the point where she felt vulnerable. Even if he waltzed out of her life as quickly as he had arrived, she didn’t think he would fade from her heart so easily.
Michael Walker had wooed her just enough to make her anxious for their relationship to take another step forward, a thought that both thrilled and scared her--a lot.
Natalie returned Allison’s call the following afternoon, knowing she was likely to be at her apartment that time of day. She had noticed in the last few months of getting to know Allison that she liked routine and advance planning. Natalie had been amazed several times when Allison talked about something coming up weeks or months in advance as if it was only hours or days away. Natalie wasn’t surprised when Allison had all the details for their retreat departure ready for her.
“Laurie and Jen said they could be ready by four, and I told them we’d come by to pick them up. They both said they would pack light since your car doesn’t have much trunk space. They’re grateful they could get an earlier ride than the vans that aren’t leaving until six. I figured we could get settled and enjoy the beach before everyone else arrives. Ted and Corrinne are getting there early to open the house up and said they would be there to welcome us.”
Natalie gave an occasional uh-huh as Allison prattled on about the weekend and everything she hoped to do. The only detail Natalie cared about was when to pick her up. She silently wondered if she could stand to be with Allison in a car for two hours straight, let alone spend the entire weekend with her. She would definitely have to plan some time to get away on her own.
“Did I tell you I got a new job?”
“No,” she replied. “Finally got fed up with the store?”
“They never scheduled my hours right, and the measly pay wasn’t worth the few hours I was getting in. I found something so much better.”
“What?”
“A waitress job at Newport Bay. You know Michael Walker, right?”
“Yes,” she said, her heart skipping a beat at his name.
“Our Bible study group went there last week for Laurie’s birthday, and he was our waiter. Did you know he worked there?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling at the time she had discovered that for herself.
“Oh, that’s right. He’s Brandon’s cousin. Well anyway, I happened to be talking about looking for another job just as he came with our orders, and he said they were shorthanded and he would get me an application if I wanted.”
“When do you start?”
“Next week. I think it will be fun. I love talking with people, and Michael said that’s a big part of the job.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have any problems with that,” Natalie laughed.
“Oh, I wanted to ask you about something else too,” Allison said barely taking a breath from her previous sentence.
“What’s that?”
“Have you heard of the Hood to Coast Relay?”
“Yes.”
“Well, a bunch of us from the group are forming a walking team to participate in the Portland to Coast Relay on the same weekend, and we’re still looking for a few more girls. Are you interested?”
“When is it?”
“August.”
“August? That’s like four months away!”
“I know, but we want to get the registration form in as soon as possible. You don’t have to decide right now, but we’d like to find out if we have enough to form a team.”
By “we”, Natalie knew Allison meant “I”. She laughed. “I’ll think about it,” she said.
“Great!”
Natalie knew what was coming.
“We would have so much fun!”
“I’m sure we would,” Natalie humored her. “Maybe you can tell me more about it this weekend.”
“I’ll bring all the information and a registration form so you can fill it out if you decide.”
I bet you will.
“Well, I better get going. I have to meet Laurie and Jen for dinner. Do you want to come?”
“Uhhh...tonight? No, I can’t tonight. Maybe some other time.”
“Okay, see you tomorrow.”
She tried to call Michael when she finally pulled herself away from Allison, but he didn’t answer. She decided to leave a message in case he was still worried.
“I’m still alive,” she said. “I spent the last three days on an assignment. Silver Falls is absolutely gorgeous. Have you ever been there? If not, you should definitely go sometime. Absolutely magnificent. Anyway, I miss your voice too, and I’ll be home this evening if you w
ant to call me back. Bye.”
She decided to check her email to see if Daddy had sent her a message while she had been away. There wasn’t anything from him but she did have one waiting from her former photo editor at Travel Europe. She anxiously clicked on his highlighted name and read the message that appeared on the screen:
I’m employed again. That only took five months. What a nightmare. Anyway, I have something for you, Natalie, if you’re interested. We’re planning a feature article on Crater Lake National Park next spring, and I thought I’d give you first dibs since that’s in your neck of the woods. If you’re interested, let me know, and I’ll send you the details.
Matt Herring
Photo Editor--Scenic America
Palmer Publications Inc.
Natalie didn’t need to think about it and replied immediately. Shooting Crater Lake was not only a job, but a great way to enjoy a paid vacation. She had only been there twice before and welcomed the chance to return to the unique natural wonder that attracted tourists from all over the world.
Before leaving her mailbox, Natalie brought up a letter she had drafted to Samuel but hadn’t had the courage to send. She reread the letter to herself, then deleted it--too desperate sounding. Once again she decided she didn’t need to dredge up the past. Samuel had been a special friend, and she missed him, but she decided it was time to put him out of her thoughts once and for all. He was on the other side of the world. When they had been together nothing had ever materialized. And now she had the possibility of something special with Michael.
She waited all evening for Michael to call, but he didn’t. She tried to call him several times but only got his voice mail, and she was tired of leaving messages. When she crawled into bed at eleven-thirty, she tried one more time and left him a text message that simply said: Good night. I miss you. Please call.
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