by Vicky de Leo
They went to an exclusive seafood restaurant called The Seafarer--chandeliers, candlelight, white linen tablecloths, and a wall of glass overlooking the harbor. The maitre d` recognized his grandfather and led them to a table for eight. Already seated there were three middle-aged men and three young men about Joshua’s age.
“Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet my grandson, Joshua Carson. He‘s staying with me for awhile. Joshua this is Darin Loomis. He’s one of the vice presidents of the bank, and this is his son, Clay.”
Both Mr. Loomis and Clay stood to shake his hand. Clay was a good-looking blond with a ruddy complexion. Shorter than Joshua, but well built like a football player. Clay returned Joshua’s grip with a little more force than necessary with a slight smile on his face. Joshua smiled back, tightened his grip for a moment, then released him and turned away.
Joseph turned to the next man. “This is David Olson, the General Manager, and his son, Frank.”
Frank had the same athletic build as Clay but with dark hair and olive skin. His handshake perfunctory, he sat down immediately, looking bored.
Joseph turned to the last man, “and this is Oscar Steinberg, our CFO, and his son Nathan.” Nathan was as tall as Joshua, but thinner. He wore horned rim glasses, making him look slightly nerdy. However, he gave Joshua a genuine smile.
Joshua sat down in the empty chair next to Nathan with his grandfather on his other side.
Joseph explained that Clay, Frank, and Nathan were all attending Harvard and expressed the hope that they would be willing to show Joshua around. Joshua was embarrassed but the conversation quickly moved on. The men discussed sports. They confirmed Joshua’s first impression that both Clay and Frank were on the football team, even though they were freshmen. Nathan was a science major.
After awhile the older men fell into discussing work. Joshua’s attention wandered. He looked around the room. Mostly older couples filled the tables. He thought that made sense since this was a very expensive restaurant. However, in one corner, he noticed a striking young woman. Long auburn hair and pale skin, she would have stood out anywhere, but was even more noticeable in this setting. She sat across from an older woman. A dark window at her back, she faced the center of the room. The candlelight cast a soft glow picking up copper highlights in her curls. He couldn’t help staring at her.
When Nathan noticed where Joshua was looking, he leaned over and whispered. “That’s Sara Whiting sitting with her grandmother. She’s new here. You’ll have to get in a long line, if you’re interested in meeting her.”
Without taking his eyes off her, Joshua replied, “I don’t doubt it. She’s beautiful.”
“Smart too. I have a couple of classes with her. Her major is physics.”
Joshua wrenched his eyes away. “Definitely out of my league.”
Nathan frowned, but said nothing.
Clay noticed Joshua’s interest as well and nudged Frank. When they got up to leave, Frank made a point of walking out next to Joshua. When Joshua glanced over at Sara again, Frank leaned in and said, “Don’t even think about it, Carson. That one belongs to me.”
For some reason Joshua had taken an instant dislike to Frank so he couldn’t pass up the chance to needle him. He raised one eyebrow. “Afraid of a little competition?”
Looking directly into Joshua‘s eyes, Frank sneered, “I don’t see any competition.”
Joshua chuckled. “I never could resist a challenge.”
Frank’s jaw tightened, but there was no time for any further conversation as each family walked outside and separated to their vehicles.
Outside the restaurant, Joshua’s headache returned with a vengeance.
Chapter Five
Sara watched the Carson group depart. It seemed an odd grouping to her. She had a couple of classes with Nathan whom she liked. Then there was Frank and his thug, Clay. Frank, the BMOC in high school—football star—money and looks, expected every woman to be flattered by his attention. His big come-on line had been, “Hey, beautiful!” When she ignored him, refusing to fall at his feet in a puddle just from the sound of his voice, he’d gotten aggressive. He showed up outside her classes, tried to walk with her with his arm around her. Less than impressed, she’d shaken him off, tried to ignore him, refused his every advance, and still he’d showed no signs of backing off. Obviously, he considered her a challenge. She wished that she had just pretended to melt when he first spoke to her and then maybe he would have been satisfied and moved on.
She wondered where the good-looking dark-haired guy she hadn’t met before fit in. When she saw Frank walking close to talk to him, and the new guy laughing, she mentally wrote him off as siding with the enemy.
Even though her grandmother had her back to the party, she had obviously noticed her distraction. She asked, “See something you like?”
“A good-looking guy I haven’t seen before, but I don’t like the company he’s keeping, sooooo . . . no. Oh, did you mean from the menu?” Sara asked innocently, giving her grandmother a grin.
Helen Whiting laughed.
They had an easy, playful relationship. Sara never had to censor her words in front of her grandmother. She knew Helen adored her, loved her sense of humor, and respected her intelligence. When Sara had gotten the full scholarship to Harvard, she called her grandmother and asked if she could live with her. Sara told Helen she didn’t want to be a part of the dorm scene. She needed a quiet place to study.
Helen had readily agreed. She’d been astonished when Sara showed up on her doorstep, saying, “It seems like just a short time ago, you were a skinny tomboy with freckles who always had her nose in a book. Now you’re a beautiful woman I almost don’t recognize.” Within five minutes, Sara managed to convince her that she hadn’t changed.
Helen had been, and still was, a striking woman. Tall and still slim with silver hair pulled up in a chignon, she sat up straight, looking past Sara through the window at the twinkling lights of the harbor. Many people came here to hobnob with the rich and famous. Helen came for the excellent food. She had no desire to socialize, and couldn’t care less if anyone saw her. She’d intentionally sat with her back to everyone, hoping no one would notice her and stop by to chat. She wanted this time with Sara all to herself.
Sara wore a jade green dress that brought out the green in her eyes, the one feature both Sara and Helen shared. Eyes that were a clear emerald green, not the muddy brown green that most people had. Even today, when Helen’s eyes had faded with her hair, people still asked if she wore contacts because the color was so unusual. Helen wondered, not for the first time, whether Sara would find her beauty an obstacle. Sara wanted to be a physicist. In Helen’s day, beautiful women struggled in serious careers. Helen had to fight for acceptance to medical school. Even after graduating at the top of her class, it had taken her years to be able to specialize in neurology. In her experience, most men did not react well to a combination of both brains and beauty. She spent many years trying to do serious work while fending off advances, only to be labeled a feminist or a lesbian. Only now, as a senior citizen, was she respected as an authority in her field.
“I‘d stick with the dessert menu, if I were you,” Helen replied with a smile. “While good looking men can be pleasantly distracting, chocolate will never break your heart.”
It was Sara’s turn to laugh. “I hear a story there. Did a good looking man ever break your heart, Grandma?”
“More than once.”
“Details—I need details. Tell me about your first love. I’m going to assume it wasn’t Grandpa, since I’ve heard you say you divorced him because he deserved more love than you were able to give him.”
Helen looked down, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “You don’t want to hear an old woman reminisce. I’d rather talk about you.”
“Yes, I do. I’m tired of talking about me, or thinking about school. I need a distraction.” She grinned, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Either tell me a story, or I’m getting up and
going after one of those young men,” Sara threatened.
“Sure you won’t just settle for the chocolate?”
“How about chocolate and a story?” Sara wheedled.
“Very well,” Helen conceded. They both ordered the house specialty, a molten chocolate soufflé. When it arrived, Sara looked at her expectantly.
Resigned, Helen began. “I was just about your age in my first year of college. I met him at a dance some of my girlfriends had talked me into attending. I never believed in love at first sight until then. From the moment I met him, he captivated me. The first time we touched, something almost like an electric current passed between us. He must have felt it too, because he stayed with me the rest of the evening.
“He had dark wavy hair and the most amazing blue eyes that twinkled when he was up to something. I learned later that he was always up to something. We danced the entire evening. He held my hand and focused all of his attention on me. No one else existed, but the two of us. Ignored, the girls I came with eventually left us alone. When he took me home that night, he paused in the doorway, took my face in his hands, and kissed me. It was so gentle and tender. That’s when I knew I’d never really been kissed before. All too soon, he released me and walked away. I just stood there, trying to catch my breath.”
“Wow.” Sara always had a hard time picturing her grandmother as a young girl. Now, however, with the glow of memories radiating in her face, somehow the wrinkles disappeared and the image became clear.
“The next day when I got out of class he was waiting for me. My heart actually skipped a beat when I saw him. We went ice skating, sipped hot chocolate, and walked hand in hand for hours. Then he took me home, kissed me goodnight and was gone again.
“He sounds perfect.”
“It was the strangest romance. He never called, never asked for a date. He seemed to know where I was and when I was free. He would just show up and whisk me away on some new adventure. We went skiing; played one on one basketball; went to baseball games; rode the carousel at the fair. He taught me to surf. He never asked me what I wanted to do. He always had a plan. It never occurred to me to say no. Every time I saw him, it was just like the first time. When we were together, the hours flew by. I couldn’t get enough of him. I would have gone anywhere, done anything just to be with him. Everything was fun. I laughed more then, than I have in all the years since. Once he came over at midnight, sneaked me out of the dorm and we went sailing until dawn.” Helen laughed.
“Why didn’t you marry him?”
“If I would try to have a serious conversation with him, he would lean down, take me in his arms, and kiss me with those same gentle sweet kisses, until I couldn’t remember my own name and my heart was pounding. When I was sufficiently distracted, he would take my hand, and off we’d go again. I only saw him serious once. Coming in from class, I saw him in the common room playing the piano. He played magnificently. He could have been a concert pianist. The music was so beautiful, sad, and yet fierce and passionate. He seemed lost in the music. I’d never seen him look so vulnerable. I stood there watching him for a long time. Then I must have moved, because he looked up. The smile I loved was back. He jumped up, insisted that I change into a swimsuit and we went to the beach.
“He was not like anyone I’d ever met. I never knew what he did when he wasn’t with me. He asked me a million questions, but refused to talk about himself, never introduced me to any of his friends or family. It was always just the two of us.
“After about six months of being together almost every day, I guess his interest in me wore off, because gradually he showed up less and less often, and then he stopped coming altogether. I never saw him again.” Helen sat back, placing her napkin on the table.
Sara sat back, trying to imagine her grandmother as a young woman in the midst of her first love and then dumped like yesterday’s garbage. “You must have been devastated!”
Helen shrugged. “I was. I couldn’t concentrate. I was always looking for him, expecting him to show up any minute. It took me a long time to realize it was over. Then I threw myself into my studies so I didn‘t have time to think about the pain. In a way, I guess I have him to thank for my accomplishments.”
Sara frowned. “Didn’t you ever go looking for him?”
Helen shook her head. “No, our relationship had always been on his terms. I never knew what he saw in me in the first place. What would be the point, to have him reject me to my face or to see him with someone else? Devastated as I was, I knew I couldn’t bear that.”
Sara sat back thinking about her grandmother’s incredible story. “Wow. I guess Grandpa never really had a chance with competition like that. Did he know about your first love?”
Helen laughed. “Heavens no, by the time I married your grandpa, I wasn’t even sure it had really happened. It seemed more like something I dreamt. I’ve never told anyone that story before. I would not have told you, if you hadn’t asked me about my first love. Now that’s enough questions. You’ve worn me out. Let’s go home.” She raised her hand signaling the waiter for the check.
Sara noticed that her grandmother had never used the young man’s name. She wanted to ask, but knew that, for the moment, the conversation was over. She sensed that there was more to the story, and suspected that her grandmother had edited it. It was clear though, from her description of him, her grandmother had been deeply in love. I wonder what that feels like, she thought. Sara had dated in high school but no one had really interested her. She had a plan for her life and ambitions. Love and marriage were not part of that plan. She had no way of knowing that her plans were about to be shattered completely.
Chapter Six
Once he reached the clearing, Sam turned on the phone and dialed the Smithsonian. The direct line to the curator was busy, so he waited for the operator to come on to leave a message. When she answered and Sam identified himself, she said, “I’m glad you called, your father’s office has been trying to reach you. They said it was important and asked if you called in, to tell you to call him as soon as possible. They left both the office and his home number. Do you want those?”
“Yes, please I don’t have either with me.” Sam wondered if his father was all right, he knew that the office wouldn’t be calling him unless it was an emergency. He left the message for the curator to expect a shipment of artifacts and then dialed his father’s office first, hoping to catch his secretary, Maggie, before she left for the day. If anything were wrong, she would have all the details. Maggie answered on the second ring as usual.
“Maggie, this is Samuel. I got a message you’ve been trying to reach me. Is my father all right?”
“He’s fine, but very eager to talk to you. Hold on a moment and I’ll put him on.”
“Sam, my boy, you’re a really hard man to reach.” Joseph’s voice was loud and strong.
“Dad, is everything all right?”
“Everything is perfect. I just wanted you to know that Joshua arrived here safe and sound.”
“Joshua . . . What . . . How . . . are you telling me that Joshua’s with you in Boston?” gasped Sam.
“Yes, he arrived two days ago. It took us a while to get your phone number from the Smithsonian, but then we couldn’t get through to your phone.”
Sam was stunned; he could hardly take in what his father was telling him. How could Joshua be there? It didn‘t make any sense. Realizing that his father was waiting for him to say something, he said, “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that he’s with you. Is he there, can I talk to him?” Could he be mistaken? Is this a joke?
“He’s right here. I’ll put him on.”
“Hi, Dad.”
No mistake, it was Joshua. “Joshua, how did you get to Boston?”
“I don’t know,” he answered quietly. Then slightly louder, “Dad I know you have been worried, but the airline lost my luggage with your phone number in it and I didn’t know how to reach you to let you know I arrived safely.”
&
nbsp; “You don’t want to discuss it in front of your grandfather, right?”
“Exactly, I’m glad you understand. Grandpa and I have been discussing my staying here and starting college. He wanted to make sure it was all right with you.”
Samuel needed time to think, and he needed answers. “I’ll call you at home later. We need to talk. Your mother will need to hear your voice before she’ll believe me. Joshua, are you really okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
Before Samuel could say anything more, Joshua handed the phone to his grandfather.
“You sounded surprised Joshua was here,” Joseph said.
“No . . . I just expected him to call much sooner. I was worried that he was waylaid somewhere. I am sorry we couldn’t call and let you know he was coming. It must have been quite a shock. I hope it’s all right if he stays for awhile,” Sam fumbled. His head reeled. He respected Joshua’s instinct to keep Joseph out of the loop, but he had so many questions, it was hard to think. “Dad, let me call you later at home. I need to let Maria know that he arrived all right. She’s been worried sick.”
“I have a business dinner tonight, but I should be home around eight.”
“Perfect, I’ll call you then.” If his father wouldn’t be home until eight, he could call Joshua earlier and have a real conversation. Joshua was safe! He wasn’t lost in the jungle, or captured by the natives. The weight that had been pressing down on him was just beginning to lift. He couldn’t wait to tell Maria.
She and Ricardo were both in the artifact tent working when Sam got back to the site. He motioned them to come outside and follow him. Once they were away from the others he burst out, “Joshua is in Boston with my dad! I just spoke to him on the phone.”
“What?” Maria and Ricardo said together.
