Goodbye To Tomorrow

by Theresa Hodge

  "Well... It has been good so far; quite challenging having to be on the move at a moment’s notice. But all in all, it's been a wonderful experience,” she responded, as though she had prepared for the question. Only I knew she was anything but calm.

  The look on my father's face however did not suggest that he was impressed with her answer—not one bit. He stared at Gracen intently, as if trying to study her and see into her character.

  "As a fashion model, what exactly do you do?" He asked with a smirk to his lips.

  Gracen seemed as if she could sense the distaste in his tone; I certainly could. In direct contrast, my mother was so overwhelmed with excitement that she barely noticed anything out of the ordinary. I saw through Father’s calm demeanor; I knew he was asking routine questions to assess my soon-to-be bride. It was beginning to get out of hand.

  Gracen tried to take it all in stride as she answered my father’s questions. "Well...basically, I get paid to appear in front of the camera," she blurted out, trying to sound funny.

  No surprise that mother got the joke; she burst into loud laughter. My father maintained his tight-lipped smile, earning him a frown of disapproval from me. Father continued his quizzing as if he were the family lawyer.

  "So, I am guessing there are times you might have to-- how do they say it these days; bare it all?"

  The look on everyone's face, with the exception of my father’s, was one of instant shock, confusion, and blankness. My mom had her mouth ajar, her palms placed on her cheeks in embarrassment.

  Just as he was about to speak further, Rose the cook swept into the room.

  "Good morning, Jiraiya. It’s good to have you home. Good morning to everyone, breakfast is served!"

  A deafening silence reverberated around the vast room, sending chills down my spine. I looked up at the high ceiling in exasperation.

  I stood, and Gracen struggled to get to her feet on wobbly and shaky legs. I knew that my father’s words had thrown her off balance and she was struggling for composure. I assisted her to her feet and took her palms in my hands; they were cold and sweaty. I cursed silently as we walked towards the dining room.

  "Don’t pay my father any mind, Gracen. It's going to be alright; he is not usually like this. I will speak to him as soon as this meal is over," I spoke softly into her ear so only she could hear as I tried to reassure her.

  She looked up, sadly, into my eyes as we walked. I could see her anger and disappointment lurking in their depths. I hoped to God that she could see the sincerity in my eyes and understood that I wouldn’t put up with my father treating her in the way that he did. I felt unspeakable sadness as I saw the deeply etched look on Gracen’s face.

  We ate in utter silence. For most of the meal, mother tried to crack some jokes but none of us were in the mood. The expression on Gracen’s face said a thousand words.

  Gracen and I left at exactly noon. The rest of our visit was fairly brightened up by my mom's efforts; she had tried her motherly best to cheer up my fiancée and she had managed to pull a few strings.

  We shared a warm hug with my mother before Gracen and I bade the family goodbye.

  I led her through the garage in silence. The consecutive slamming sounds of both doors as each of us got into my vehicle brought an immediate end to the hush.

  "Your father doesn't like me!" Gracen finally said with soberness lacing every word.

  I turned to look at Gracen; her expression said it all. She was distraught.

  “Don’t say that, he likes you. That’s just his way of expressing himself," I attempted to console her.

  "He doesn't like me and it's because I am a model."

  "I am sure he didn’t mean it that way. Don't worry I will fix the situation, I promise."

  It was evident that father did not like Gracen, simply because she was a model. He had not held back his distaste. Our journey back to Gracen's place was, for the most part, heavily cloaked in awkwardness. I could read Gracen's thoughts all through the trip by the expression on her face.

  As I parked my SUV in front of her house and the engine noise died down, there was a long meditative pause. Gracen finally spoke.

  "So, what are we going to do now that it’s obvious your old man doesn't like me?"

  "Stop saying that," I repeated, trying to persuade her when, in actual fact, both of us knew the truth. "It’s all going to turn out well.

  "Well, if you say so," Gracen sighed.

  "For what it’s worth, my mother likes you a lot," I stated, trying to ease the tension in the air. "And I like you too. In fact, I love you. Which makes it two against one and I am pretty sure Rose the cook likes you and Lucy does, too," I added with a smile.

  "Really, Jiraiya?" She asked

  "What? I was just kidding,” I feigned ignorance. Hurt by my words, she moved to leave but I swiftly pulled her back, holding on to her waist. The gear system between us was the only things preventing me from swooping her into my arms.

  "Listen to me, Darling. It's all going to be okay. I promise you. There isn’t anything in the universe which could tear us apart.”

  Gracen slowly looked into my eyes; I hoped my eyes emitted genuineness. I really meant what I had just said.

  "I hope so," she let out in a small voice.

  I pulled her closer into my arms as the faint smell of her perfume wafted into my nostrils. I wanted to make love to her right then and there until my senses were numb. I convinced myself that I would stand up to my father and fight for our love.

  I pulled away to stare deeply into her sky-blue eyes, breathing in slowly as I took in the freshness of her scent, before planting a soft kiss on her lips.

  Gracen responded. She suddenly became unresisting as she trembled in my grasp. I could feel the quaking of her body; the fear of the uncertainty that suddenly lurked in our future.

  I broke the kiss and drew slightly away from her lips as I whispered again, “I love you, my darling.” Her eyes were still tightly closed, and I soothed her with more placating words. "It's going to be okay, Babe. It's all going to be fine."

  My lips latched onto hers again and resumed the warm, passionate kiss. I became oblivious to every other thought; the only thought on my mind was to make her my wife, soon.

  *****

  Later that night after leaving Gracen's place, I burst into my parents’ vast sitting room for the second time in a day. The look on my face wasn't anything close to what it had been some hours before.

  Rose came rushing in from the kitchen; the swinging door slamming against its frame. The sound echoed through the house as the maid greeted me with a surprised look on her face.

  "Mr. Jiraiya.”

  "Where is father?" I thundered, stopping whatever dialogue might come next.

  The shock on Rose’s weathered face switched immediately to a look of concern. Her mouth remained open, but nothing was said.

  I wasn’t in the mood to stop and explain things to Rose. I headed in the direction of the stairs in quick movement. Just then, swift footsteps filled the air. My mother came rushing down from the second-floor landing. She had a troubled look on her face.

  "What's wrong Jiraiya?" She enquired; a visible look of concern mottled her face. "We weren't expecting you again so soon. I thought I heard you shouting. "

  I stopped in my stride.

  "Where is father, mother?" I asked, paying no mind to the questions asked or the troubled expression on her face.

  "Is anything the matter?" She asked again, trying to understand what was going on.

  Just as I was about to speak further, a voice came from the upper level staircase.

  "You can't marry her!" The voice said calmly, albeit sternly.

  "And why is that, father? Is it because of your domineering nature— a habit which you have refused to let go or overcome—or because you are just too unhappy yourself to want to see your only son happy?" I thundered in protest.

  "I don’t give a damn about ruining your happiness if happiness is
with that bimbo. You can't marry her and that’s that!” My father said again in his thunderous and, at the same time, demanding voice.

  "You see that, mother? You see?" I asked, turning my gaze towards my mother with my arms swung wide apart, gesturing my cluelessness about my father's behavior.

  "Why do you have to be so damn overbearing? I don’t see how the hell you put up with him all these years mother, father has always wanted to have his way on things that don’t concern him. But this time, it's not going to happen. I won't let it." I shouted turning my gaze back to my father, who had remained on the top landing of the stairs.

  “Listen for a minute Son, you have—"

  "You heard what I said before, father? I won't let you stop my happiness!" I said in exasperation, cutting him off.

  “Calm down Son. Your father doesn’t..." my mother started to say but my father cut her short before she had it all out.

  “Shut up Martha!” He roared.

  “Oh Lord!” Rose muttered behind me. She was visibly shocked and concerned; this was the first time she had ever seen me out of control. I had always been a charming and obedient young man whenever I was around her.

  "Jiraiya, you just need to calm down and let's talk this over," my mother suggested calmly, trying to douse the tension in the room.

  "No disrespect but there is nothing to talk about mother." I stated in protest.

  "You know I’m right don't you? How he treats you; he chooses what you wear, places you go, people you meet, and the food you eat? It's inherent in him; it's his nature," I added shaking my head from side to side.

  "We’ve put up with this attitude for so long. But I'm no longer having any of it! I had to go through all the unhealthy existence of schooling in that despicable boarding school as a child and you called that the perfect upbringing. As if that weren’t enough, you only came visiting once in two months when other children had their parents come visit them at least twice a month."

  “Please, don’t Jiraiya. My problems with your father don’t concern you,” my mother had a pleading look in her eyes.

  Something must really be terribly wrong with mother to defend a beast of a man like my father, I thought to myself as I stood there, confused and angry. I had lied to Gracen when I said my parents were cool. I had done it so she wouldn't worry.

  "And look how you turned out, Son." My father cut me to shreds in his rant.

  "Yeah, I own one of the top real estate firms in the country and I get involved in a variety of charity events. It doesn't change the fact that I am not happy with your behavior towards Gracen! And you have made it so with your uncompromising ways," I responded in my rebuttals. "Nothing that I ever do is grand enough for you.”

  "Son, she is a model for Christ’s sake. How can any decent young lady even choose that as a profession? Don't you see the pictures?" My father asked, trying to spark some sense of reasoning from me.

  "Apparently, you seem to have seen quite a number of pictures in your life time. The only picture I see is that of my wedding with Gracen; framed beautifully by the very best of artists and hung strategically on the wall in my living room where everyone can get a view. But you won’t be in the pictures, if you don't quit this damn attitude of yours!"

  I was just as angry as my father was and we argued back and forth. I was glad that Gracen wasn’t here to see me like this. My mother rushed to my side— her eyes watery with tears. I took her shaky hands in mine. “I am sorry Mother, but the truth had to be said." My mother and father both watched me in surprise, unable to utter any word.

  I raked a hand through my thick crop of wavy hair, rumpling it like the now rumpled clothes I had on. I stood there trembling as anger continued to course through me. An unfamiliar pounding had begun in my head, but I pushed the feeling aside.

  The stern look on my father’s face had begun to disappear. I wanted to believe that my angry and anguished words had gotten through to him; that I had touched some spot in him that weakened him deeply.

  "I am sorry Son. I didn’t know that you resented the methods I employed in turning you into a sensible young man."

  A palpable silence filled the atmosphere in the sitting room; no one said anything for a while.

  Warm salty tears slowly rolled down my mother’s cheeks; her soft whimpers brought an abrupt end to the silence in the room.

  Rose walked around me and patted my mother on the back as she tried to comfort her—she was shedding tears of her own. Rose was almost family—she knew where all the skeletons were buried.

  The tension in the room started to abate as I let out a heavy sigh.

  Father began his descent down the stairs slowly. He was visibly shaken by the events that had unfolded in the last few minutes.

  My mother's feeble whimper had turned to uncontrollable sobbing as Rose tried to comfort her. Father got close to his wife and pulled her out of Rose’s embrace and into his arms, holding her tightly; while I stood wishing things had turned out different.

  He hugged her tightly and whispered softly into her ears.

  "I am sorry... I am sorry but Jiraiya shouldn’t marry that glorified exhibitionist!"

  Words that were meant to comfort made my mother weep more. He contained her in his arms, all the while glowering at me. I slowly shook my head, feeling dejected.

  I crossed my arms over my chest as I looked on at my parents; Father continued to hold my weeping mother. I sighed and felt the world heavy on my shoulders. Cease fire, I told myself. Enough fighting for one day. Inwardly I increased my resolve to marry Gracen...with or without my father’s well wishes.

  "I'm sorry Martha...for everything," my father finally let out.

  "I know, Frank, I know... it’s okay," she muttered softly in response.

  I walked out of my parents’ home, leaving my hard-nosed father to console his long-suffering wife. I walked into the night with the love of my beautiful Gracen strong in my heart.

  Chapter 3

  Jiraiya

  Surprise

  Gracen rushed into my arms as she saw me walking through the door. My nose quickly picked up the sweet mild scent of her perfume mixed with her uncertainty.

  "Did you miss me?" I asked her, pulling her closer still.

  "Just a little," she teased me as she began to chuckle softly. Her face was pressed against me and her laughter was muffled against my broad chest.

  "Beautiful liar,” I responded, moving my arms downwards from her neck across her back to her waist; I tickled her gently on both sides invoking an abrupt jerk from Gracen and a slight struggle to break free from my embrace.

  "Okay, wait," she whimpered, trying to control herself from erupting into wild uncontrollable laughter that had formed in her lungs.

  "Wait?" I quizzed teasingly, tickled her once more.

  Unable to contain her jerky movements anymore and the air of laughter in her, she ducked and broke free; darting away from me towards the far end of the room.

  I naughtily chased after her; she wasn't fast enough and was soon wrapped up in my arms again, this time from behind.

  "I missed you!" She yelled as her body made contact with mine once again. A satisfied grin spreads across my face.

  "I missed you too,” I admitted and tickled her again.

  “I am going to pee in my pants if you keep tickling me like that," she gasped trying to keep from giggling. “I’m warning you," she struggled still trying to break free.

  "How much do you love me?" I quizzed her again.

  "So much, so damn much! My love for you is infinitely immeasurable,” she added as I turned her 180 degrees to face me, still not letting go of her.

  “I will never get tired of hearing you say that you love me,” I confessed staring into her eyes.

  "I love you so much! Please don't do that again." She begged with a sheepish smile, trying to draw sympathy from me.

  I hugged her tightly, pressing her body hard against mine as if I was going to push her into me and leave her body print on
my chest.

  We said nothing for a while, each lost deep in our own thoughts.

  "So, what's the surprise you spoke about over the phone on your way here?" She asked finally, breaking the silence.

  I loosened my embrace gradually until she was free from my body.

  "Close your eyes," I ordered.

  "No way!" She said in naughty protest.

  "I won't tickle you again. No more shenanigans," I promised, raising my hands in surrender.

  Gracen looked intently into my eyes before finally budging. Slowly, she closed her eyes.

  Silence took over the room as Gracen waited for me to unveil my surprise.

  "You can open your eyes now," I said unhurriedly.

  Slowly she parted her eyelids, the rays of light from the white fluorescent bulb momentarily blinding as she struggled to see what I held in front of her.

  Her vision finally readjusted to the light; I held in between my fingers, two rectangular pieces of blue paper.

  "What are those?" She inquired with a smile on her face.

  "Guess," I teased.

  "Tell me," she pleaded, not wanting to try random answers. She had never been a fan of guessing and even though she was excited today, she wasn't willing to give it a shot.

  "Just guess," I encouraged her again.

  "You know I'm not good at guessing," she protested feebly.

  I waited a bit to see if she would change her mind about guessing. I gazed into her eyes and realized she wasn't going to budge.

  "Okay," I said, giving up. "Remember when you said you had always wanted to go skiing in Switzerland?" I questioned her.

  The suspense in Gracen’s eyes grew as I said the sentence slowly, word after word; her facial and body expressions signaled excitement. She held her breath still.

  "Oh my God!" she let out underneath her breath as I completed my sentence.

  I paused for a while before continuing.

  "And how you have always wanted to see live dolphins?" I continued.

  Gracen's face grew pink at once; the pounding of her heartbeat could be heard from a mile away.