Fade to Blue

by Julie Carobini

  I stood there, thinking about the freedom Ms. Morgan must have enjoyed. This place cost millions and took many years to build. I pictured her at the top of this hill, sketching away, inspired by the high altitude and forever views of the West Coast and beyond. We were sojourners here, but at the moment, nothing felt so temporary.

  The groan and growl of a four-wheel drive climbed the road below us, interrupting the fantasy. A truck carrying three men pulled to a stop next to our Jeep. Two hopped out, their hiking boots landing with harsh clomps against the roadway.

  Seeing Seth among them, my lungs contracted. Letty swiveled her pointed chin at me, her mouth agape. “Are you asking me to believe that this is all one big coincidence? That, my friend”—she pointed one French-manicured nail at the man who had become familiar to us both—“is a sign from God himself.”

  I slid a look her way. “I’m not blaming this on God.” Although even I had to wonder why, after all these years, Seth had turned up three times in less than twenty-four hours. And how I’d managed to avoid speaking to him . . .

  Clem greeted the men as they approached. “Good to see you.” He stuck out a beefy hand to the one in a park ranger uniform.

  Seth didn’t seem to notice me, his eyes roaming over the castle’s entrance. Of course, I didn’t help, hiding behind Letty and Fred as I did. The awkwardness of the moment threatened to derail the magic of this impromptu tour of Casa Grande.

  I shifted sideways, pretending to examine the flowing fountain, the one with water cascading in a soothing rush. Letty would have none of it and moved away from my side as Seth took a step in my direction. When I turned back around, our gazes collided, nothing between us but oxygen—and the memory of time.

  “Hello, Seth. You look good. It’s been a long time.”

  He nodded and opened his mouth, as if to return my hello. Instead he let it shut again.

  Heat reached my cheeks. I swallowed the lump in my throat and a little pride too. “Well . . .”

  “Suz.”

  “You remember.”

  His eyes pierced me. “Some things are harder to forget than others.”

  I mulled over his words—and the way he delivered them. Everything about him was familiar and yet different at the same time. The same diamond-shaped face with a dimple at the southernmost point, penetrating gray-green eyes, and high cheekbones that gave him that chiseled look. Yet something was missing. The warmth he once exuded so richly had vanished.

  The park ranger tapped Seth on the shoulder. “Ready to go?”

  Seth gave the ranger a quick nod, and then turned back to me. His gaze seemed to hover for the slightest moment, then he gave me the same businesslike nod he’d given the ranger. And then he left. Just like that.

  I watched his back and exhaled slowly, fighting off the compulsion to lower myself to the ground in a crumpled mess.

  “That had to hurt.”

  I didn’t look at Letty, unwilling to let her see in my eyes what she already knew.

  For the next hour we wandered around the castle, through the same areas designated for tourists. Occasionally we would come upon a group of people crammed into the various rooms, their gazes traveling over the walls and floors and priceless furnishings while a patient tour guide filled them in on details and offered anecdotal tidbits from the Hearst days.

  My energy for exploration had dulled since we arrived, my mind occupied with meeting Seth again and his quick dismissal of me. When we found ourselves ushered into Hearst’s old movie theater, relief flowed through the taut muscles of my neck and back. I sank into one of the old padded seats, hardly listening as our guide told us about the ornate screening room. Hearst, he said, treated many guests to private showings of black-and-white films, many featuring his girlfriend Marion Davies.

  I winced. Wasn’t Hearst married at the time?

  A large gray screen dropped before us, imprinted with the ghosts of movies past, and I tucked away my thoughts on Hearst’s past. Vaguely I recalled Fred turning to me and whispering something about his knees aching and would I mind if we took a respite and enjoyed a Hearst-era film?

  The music started, a piano piece, jaunty and light. My mind wandered to the past, but not the yesteryear portrayed on the screen. One I knew. Seth’s face appeared before me. Only this time instead of a cold gaze, his eyes radiated warmth. We both had reached for the same sad-looking Christmas ornament at a church bazaar.

  “Excuse me,” he said.

  I laughed. “No, excuse me. You take it.” While other booths were overrun with customers, this sparsely decorated one had been passed over again and again. I noticed from across the gymnasium and couldn’t stand it, determining then that I would march over and reach for the most hideous item I could find and buy it.

  Apparently Seth decided to do the same thing.

  The woman behind the table beamed. Her salt-and-pepper hair fixed with a velvety red Christmas bow hung near her cheek as she bobbed her head. “You don’t need to fight over it. I’ve got more where that came from.” She reached behind her and brought out a box nearly full of the homemade ornaments: golf balls with the eeriest smiles painted on their pock-marked surfaces.

  I bit back a smile until my lip ached, especially after noticing Seth wince at the appearance of so many of the awful things.

  “I’ll take them all,” he said.

  I gasped and they both looked at me, so I faked a cough. A harsh, wracking cough.

  The woman patted my back. “There, there. You really should see a doctor about that.”

  Seth paid for the items—including one for me—and thanked the woman, offering her liberal praise for her artistry.

  “My compliments.” He handed me one as we scooted away from the booth.

  “I really should pay you.”

  “Don’t bother. That show you gave over there was payment enough.”

  I giggled as we strolled through the crowd. “She’s so sweet . . . I couldn’t bear the thought of her not getting any business, but if these aren’t the ugliest things I’ve ever seen.”

  “Fine way to talk about my first gift to you.”

  I stopped and looked up at him. “Well, then, I suppose if you’re planning to buy me fine gifts, we ought to officially meet.”

  He grinned, his ocean-green eyes making it difficult not to stare. “I’m Seth. Nice to finally meet you. I’ve seen you in church.”

  I leaned my head to one side. He noticed me as I had him? I reached out my hand. “Suzanna, but most everyone calls me Suz. Good to meet you too, Seth.”

  The music drifted off and another voice caught my attention.

  “And . . . fade to black!”

  I whipped my chin to the side to see Letty watching me. “What?”

  “The movie. It’s over already. And if you ask me, it was much too long anyway.” She nudged me. “Were you sleeping or something?”

  I shook my head. “No, not at all. Just thinking.” I picked up my purse from the seat next to me and set it on my lap.

  Letty pointed at the envelope sticking out of my purse with Heinsburgh Valley Correctional Facility emblazoned in the corner. “What’s that?”

  I sucked in a quick breath. “Something I’d like to forget.” I stuffed it down into my bag and snapped it shut. “Have you ever wished you could have penned your own life story, Letty?”

  “Now that is a thought. But I do not believe so, no.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I believe the good Lord can come up with something better than I could on my own.” She touched my arm. “Not that he’s done all that much yet, but I’m sure he will. Someday.”

  Her words humbled me. “You’re right.” I batted the air. “I was just being silly.”

  “We all have our pains from the past, Suz, and though I can’t imagine writing my own life story, I’ve got nothing against asking God for a rewrite!”

  I laughed at this, the sound of it working to dislodge any lingering sadness. By now, Fred and our
tour guide stood by the exit, hands shoved in their pockets, their gazes flitting around while waiting for us.

  I followed Letty out, thinking about meeting Seth all those years ago and how quickly our relationship blossomed from its random beginning. I wasn’t sure how appropriate it would be to ask God for a rewrite, yet in this moment, I decided one thing: Although my romance with Seth had long ended, our friendship deserved a second chance.

  Chapter Four

  At twilight, I ventured toward the steep cliff at the end of our block of colorful cottages with second chances on my mind. I maneuvered down the wooden stairs before hopping onto the pebblelike sand that made a muffled whoosh upon landing.

  Several beachcombers made their way along the shore, and part of me wondered if the soothing ripple of the ocean would prove to be a distraction rather than the aria I longed to experience while sketching.

  Breathing in the briny, moist air, I found a dry spot on a smooth rock to settle on for a while. Despite a less-than-hopeful start to our castle tour this morning, I had managed to fill more than eight pages of my sketchbook with images from throughout Casa Grande. I hoped to study them more closely and perhaps write through some of the angst that had attempted to disrupt my day.

  A girlish laugh caused me to raise my head.

  “Hey there, Suz!” Holly’s long, blonde, spiral hair bounced when she walked.

  Seth trailed behind her, slowing when Holly spotted me. If facial expressions could be translated into story, I’d have to say Seth’s took on the air of mystery, with a dark draw to his eyes and a gaze that darted around.

  I snapped shut my sketch pad. “Hi, Holly. Seth.”

  Holly froze and sucked in a breath. “Glory be! You two know each other?”

  I stood. “We’re old friends from back East.”

  Holly cast a glance at each of us, oblivious to the cold front put forth by Seth. “If this world isn’t smaller than a pea pod. When’s the last time you saw each other?”

  “This morning. Up at the castle. My boss was giving Letty and me a tour, and Seth breezed by on a private tour of his own. Although I never did learn how that came about.”

  Holly hugged her sides. “It’s so excitin’, really. Seth may take over the window-washin’ duties for the castle. The park service contacted him directly—that’s how good his company’s reputation is. Can you imagine? Washin’ windows high up on that bluff for weeks on end? There are worse things that could happen in life!”

  She had that right. Unfortunately, I had experienced some of them.

  Seth stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked around, one muscle in his cheek twitching. That cheek muscle always twitched when he fought back the urge to say what he felt. Like that last night we stood on the porch of my parents’ house.

  “So that’s what you came out here to do.” The words flew out, as if condemning his long-ago decision to move out west. I regretted phrasing it that way but said nothing else, figuring that what I said wouldn’t matter to him anyway.

  As if proving me right, Seth frowned. “I came out this way for a lot of reasons.”

  Holly either pretended or didn’t notice the thickening air between us. “Seth bought a company with just one employee, and in no time he’s already got fifteen people working for him. Isn’t that great?”

  “Yes, it is. Really great. I’m glad for you, Seth.”

  He glanced at the toe of his hiking boot, his mouth screwed up in a pucker. “It’s worked out all right.”

  Holly pressed a fist in her side. “All right? I’d say you’re doing mighty fine, mister.” She dropped the hand from her side and playfully rubbed Seth’s shoulder.

  He glanced at Holly. The grin he’d been fighting appeared, and seeing it caused my heart to drum in my ears. The sea swirled and churned beyond us, and for a moment I wished to get caught up in it. Instead I pulled my attention back to Seth and Holly. Holly and Seth. Absurd as it may seem, a middle school vein of something—jealousy, maybe?—wriggled its way through me, as if awakening feelings for him long believed dormant.

  The thought horrified me.

  For his part, Seth showed little sign of interest in me anyway—friendship or otherwise. But what did I expect? I married another man and had his baby. Jeremiah’s dimpled face dropped into my thoughts. My sweet baby. Every pain from the past was worth it, if only because of my son.

  My eyes took in Seth again, and I pushed away wayward thoughts that dredged up our past. I intended to keep living in this town, and it appeared that Seth did too. So it made sense to smooth over the cobblestones of yesterday. “Wild seeing you here in California, Seth.”

  He considered me, leaning his head to one side. “I would agree with that. Pretty wild.”

  Silence fell between us. “I saw you working on that wall of windows at the art studio. It’s not the castle, but that’s a big job in itself.”

  “Can’t complain. The contract has been a boon for us, and I appreciate the work.”

  “He always personally takes on jobs that are really important.” Holly patted his shoulder. “Isn’t that right?”

  Seth shifted from one leg to the other and offered a quick nod. Or maybe more like a shrug. More memories of my time with Seth rolled in. A master of brief, quick answers and long pauses, he always drove me crazy. Worse, when I would rephrase questions and ask them again believing maybe he hadn’t understood my meaning the first time, he’d crinkle his brow and say, “I was thinking.”

  Holly leaned forward. She couldn’t handle empty airspace either. “That old warehouse often contains priceless works of art. He can’t be too careful just letting anyone work there.”

  “Uh-huh. I see.”

  “I mean, there’s more than the art from the castle being run through Fred’s studio. Isn’t that right, Suz?”

  “Absolutely. You’d never know from its termite-ridden exterior that one of Elvis’s guitars was recently in for repairs.”

  “No!”

  “You didn’t hear it from me,” I whispered.

  Holly crossed her heart. “Your secret’s safe here. Wow, the king’s guitar, and you’re working on it.”

  I flipped my palms up. “Not me, well, not yet anyway. I’m still learning, still following Fred around. It is exciting, though, getting to work with new media in ways I’d never imagined.” I paused. “I am very blessed.”

  Seth eyed me. “Weren’t you always more of a freehand artist?” He looked at Holly. “She had raw talent and could paint anything.”

  “Well, not anything, Seth.”

  His gaze brushed across my face. “You’re modest. I remember your way with a brush and the way you could conjure up designs in your head.”

  Holly smiled, not showing the least hint of jealousy over Seth’s compliment. “I’d heard about that. Didn’t you make over Callie’s place? And your brother’s too?” She turned to Seth. “Her brother, Gage—he’s engaged to Callie—comes into the diner a lot. He’s mentioned Suz’s talent bunches of times. He’s so proud of her.”

  Seth’s eyes shifted, breaking contact with mine. “I remember Gage.”

  “She and Jer live with him,” Holly added.

  He pressed his lips together, and his eyes flickered over my ring finger. “Jer? What happened to—?”

  I cut him off. “Jeremiah is my son.” Seth might not have information about the years between now and then. I had chosen Len to marry over him, and because of that, Seth had left town earlier than planned, destined for big adventure across this country of ours. If we had not run into each other in this small town of Otter Bay, chances were he never would have learned the rest of the story.

  “I see.”

  Holly’s brows bunched and she looked from Seth to me. “Wow, it really has been a long while for you two. Jer looks just like his mama. ’Cept the hair color. He’s a real blondie and cute as a bug’s nose.”

  Seth shifted again. “So he’s what, four years old?”

  My boy’s face beamed in m
y mind. “Nearly five.”

  Seth grew quiet again. He had questions, obvious by the way he shifted and paused. He probably wouldn’t ask them now, not until he formulated them, and certainly not in front of Holly. If ever.

  The sun sat atop the horizon, as if playing a game of chicken. Jer and Gage would be wondering about me, so I picked up my journal and sketch pad. “Enjoy your walk, you two. Time for me to head back and fix dinner.”

  Holly linked an arm through Seth’s. “We will, Suz. Nice talkin’ to you.”

  Seth nodded, as was his way, although this time he looked as if he might have something to say. Still, he held his words, and the two began down the beach only to stop so Holly could call to me. “Suz?”

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe you two oughta meet at the diner sometime.” Friendly concern knit her brows. “You know, to talk about old times.”

  If Holly knew what Seth and I had once meant to each other, she never would have suggested we spend one minute together alone. I searched Seth’s face for some sign that he would entertain the idea, if only to bury old pains, and perhaps rekindle a friendship.

  All that appeared on his face was a fresh frown and drooping eyelids, as if the thought of spending another minute with me made him want to shut his eyes and forget about it.

  Holly waited for my answer, and I shrugged. “Maybe,” I said, then turned toward the stairs and climbed them two at a time.

  With Len in jail, I’d taken Jer and crawled like a dreaded pariah from my hometown. My back stiffened. Why did one grimace from Seth Russo wash that feeling over me again?

  Ten minutes later, I stepped into the house and peeled my fingers from my journal and sketch pad. Quiet enveloped the house, giving me more opportunity to ruminate over yet another “chance” meeting with Seth. With little panache, I poured water into a pan, added a splash of milk, tossed in a bag of chai tea, and heated it up. A note on the kitchen island caught my eye:

  Suz, Callie and I took Jer out for a corn dog. Enjoy the solitude while it lasts. ~ G