Hope Falls_Passing Through

by Frances Elliot

  Alice felt her spirits lifting and hoped her self-doubt had been a simple blood-sugar problem. All the first-date stuff was fun and they covered a lot of ground quickly – schools, best friends, families. Ryan had an older brother on Wall Street; their father had been a lawyer too, and they both delighted in that rather unremarkable coincidence.

  It turned out they both disliked the circus, eels and gag gifts – Alice had gotten all she ever wanted on her thirtieth birthday. She set her fork down and looked up to him in surprise. “I don’t know how old you are.”

  He said thirty-four and they smiled at each other. “Well, that’s about perfect, too, don’t you think?” he added.

  He admitted he was still mourning the recent death of the cat he’d had for sixteen years and Alice was momentarily thrown off balance. Then she looked at him, thinking of the way he moved, that effortless, powerful grace, and decided it made sense. She could see him with a cat.

  Something in her face must have changed with her thoughts; she saw his eyes drift down over her body and he cleared his throat. “Want to skip dessert?” he asked, his voice low.

  As she opened her mouth to say yes, the waiter appeared and murmured something to Ryan she didn’t catch. “Uh, a glitch with the room,” he said, “do you mind sitting alone again? It might take a few minutes.”

  “I think I’d rather go outside,” she said, looking at the wide terrace beyond the windows.

  “You won’t be cold?”

  She told him not at all and watched him leave, stopping to confer with the waiter and hand him a credit card. She gathered her things and walked down to a door in the corner of the room, suddenly happy to have some time alone. He could so quickly and easily cloud her mind with desire.

  The soft spring night was chilly, but her shawl was warm and tall heat lamps glowed here and there. A few people were scattered around sipping coffee or cocktails, talking and laughing quietly, enjoying the view. Ah, vacationers, she thought, envying them. When had she last taken a vacation?

  She moved down to the end of the terrace and found a short staircase that led to a small overlook with a telescope. Leaning against the redwood railing, she stared out at the mountains ringing the lake and felt a sharp pang of something like homesickness.

  Most of her life had been spent here, one of the most beautiful places on earth. Why was she in such a desperate hurry to get away from it? And then it struck her – it wasn’t Hope Falls she wanted to escape – it was Alice.

  Exactly like Ryan, she thought. The only difference being that he had actually fled, left the past behind, begun to re-invent himself. She realized with a start she’d neglected to ask another crucial question. Where was he going? It was clear she wasn’t going to be hopping onto the back of a motorcycle bound for Texas; this wasn’t a fantasy. This was real.

  How had she failed to recognize that glaring uncertainty about the future? Her feelings had been so overwhelming that it seemed she’d simply forgotten that he didn’t live here, he was passing through on his way to … where?

  If they were truly in love, what was coming next? Was he planning to take her along, a carefree road trip, snapshots at landmarks, and then a new life in, for all she knew, Duluth? She couldn’t pack up her life in a day, as he had. Good lord, what would David say?

  Sex. It was sex that kept distracting her, sex that overtook all rational thought and left her feeling so helplessly addled. She remembered the change in his eyes back in the dining room and shrugged the shawl off her shoulders, suddenly warm. She thought about the first time he’d touched her, his arm under her jacket in the bar, and felt again that sense of a circuit closing, of everything beginning to hum.

  A light breeze blew from the direction of the lake, bringing with it sounds from an improbable distance over the water. For a short time, she could hear distinctly the rhythmic squeak of oarlocks as someone rowed a boat she couldn’t even see. Then the wind shifted slightly and she heard, as clearly as if it came from ten feet away, a man’s voice saying “Sorry folks, closing up.”

  When she squinted, she could just make out the little boathouse, a man leaning as though locking a door, the couple turning away to walk back up the short dock. And then she felt, rather than heard, a motionless presence behind her. The deep connection between them told her it was Ryan, but she didn’t turn. They had reached some turning point, she knew, and she would wait for him.

  ***

  All his life Ryan had been the kind of guy who wanted to act as soon as a decision had been made. By the time he was twelve, his father had stopped saying “Sure you don’t want to think that over a little?” and replaced it with “Well, you know your own mind.” He knew that when he told his brother he was marrying a girl he’d known less than a week, Pat would laugh and say, “Do I have time to pack?”

  He’d practically sprinted through the lobby and downstairs to the arcade of little shops. Tonight was perfect – the setting, the atmosphere, the fact that he was looking fairly decent – it was too good to pass up. Though he knew Alice wouldn’t mind if he asked while they were cleaning the garage, he still wanted to do this right now.

  A middle-aged woman stood at the door of a brightly lit shop, smiling broadly at him as he hurried down the corridor. This probably happens all the time here, he thought. Inside, he saw that she had already unlocked a case and set a tray of rings on the counter. He briefly considered asking to see their tiaras, but decided she might not be in the mood.

  “I want something simple, classic, nothing flashy, but a very good stone, please,” he said and moved up to the counter.

  Feeling sure he knew exactly what he wanted, Ryan figured he could be in and out of here in ten minutes, tops. He’d hated to leave Alice again but they could laugh about this later, he knew.

  At first all the rings looked the same to him but gradually he began to see small variations in sizes and settings; after that, the right one jumped out and he said, “May I see that one?”

  She handed it to him and he glanced at it, then asked if she’d mind trying it on. The moment he saw it on her hand, he knew it was right and reached for his wallet. Oh. “I’m sorry, I have to –“

  “I have your card, sir. They stopped me at the desk on my way in.”

  Probably already ran the credit check, too, he thought. A very well-oiled machine, this place. “But I think,” she went on, “with a purchase like this, perhaps you…”

  Of course. He took the card, got out his phone and dialed the number on the back. The clerk turned away, saying something about cleaning up the ring while Ryan authorized this spur-of-the-moment five-figure purchase.

  He was idly staring down into another display case when something caught his eye. “Excuse me,” he said to the clerk. He pointed into the case. “What’s this? The one in the little box?”

  Confused, she walked over, then brightened. “Ah, this,” she said, getting it out and setting it on the counter, “this is very special.”

  The ring had several quite small stones set loosely, seemingly casually together, each a different shape and pastel color. It reminded Ryan of the bouquet – delicate, sweet, charming.

  “Exquisite, isn’t it?” the woman said, slipping it onto her finger. “It’s by a San Francisco artist, one of a kind, of course.”

  “What are the stones?”

  “Ah, well. He had a bit of fun there. The pink is an emerald, the blue is a diamond, the yellow is a sapphire and so on. I have a complete description, with the carat weight and such.” She admired her hand briefly. “I’ll be sorry to see it go – it always makes me think of –“

  “Flowers,” Ryan finished.

  “Exactly. So … have you changed your mind?”

  Everything else went smoothly; he zipped through the still-open sundries shop, tossing things they might need into a “Tahoe!” beach bag; stopped at the desk to drop off the bag and pick up the key card, then raced out to the terrace, ring in his pocket.

  Only a dozen or so people re
mained outside and Alice wasn’t among them. When he spotted her alone, down and off to the side of the main terrace, his heart soared. Even in the movies, there couldn’t be a more ideal time and place to propose.

  He began to hurry toward her, then stopped abruptly. Her beautiful figure, outlined dimly in the starlight, was motionless. She was obviously lost in thought and he hesitated to interrupt – maybe he should quit thinking so much about the gorgeous scenery and the pretty ring and think a little more about her.

  Standing silently at the foot of the staircase, he sensed some minute change in her posture, a current in the air, and knew she was aware of his presence. All he could do was proceed – he walked over to stand beside her and put an arm around her waist, hoping it was the right thing to do.

  She turned to him, her expression confused, her eyes shining with unshed tears. He kissed her lips, put his hand to the side of her face and pulled her gently to him. “Alice,” he murmured, “I love you. Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

  With her face against his chest, she said very quietly, “I need to know … I don’t even know where we’re going.”

  Relief flooded through him as he thought yes! This I can fix! He put his hand beneath her chin and lifted her face to look into her eyes. “Oh, baby,” he whispered. “I thought we already knew. Am I moving too fast? Was I stupid enough to get ahead of you and not even notice? I want to …”

  He stopped, seeing that she looked even more puzzled. Then her face cleared and he saw her almost smile. “Sweetheart, I meant that literally.”

  “What?”

  “You told everyone you were just passing through. Where were you headed?”

  “Oh. Chicago, New York, I wasn’t even sure.” Now it was his turn to feel confused. “I thought you meant …”

  “I know.” She sighed and said, “I guess I feel afraid because I don’t even know what to ask you. When do you think you have to leave … I mean, do you want me to come with you or … I don’t want to …”

  Her voice grew softer and softer until she trailed off. An inexpressible tenderness crept through him and he wanted to pull her even closer, reassure her, somehow make sure she never, ever doubted him again.

  “What? What don’t you want, dear? Tell me.”

  She put her head against his chest and he felt her sigh again.

  “I don’t want you to change your plans, or feel that I’ve inter—“

  Pulling away from her, he held her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Change my plans? Alice, you have changed my life. There isn’t any plan without you now – don’t you know that?”

  He pulled her close again, hugging her tightly, and spoke quietly into her ear. “Whatever you want. Anything you want -- we can stay here, move somewhere else – if you want to move to the moon I will try to make it happen. Or I will give you space, give you time. But I will never leave you. I will never give up.”

  When she lifted her head, her eyes were bright and at last she smiled – a soft, almost secretive smile. She slid her smooth, cool fingers into his hair and as he kissed her, felt her body seem to melt into his, making them one.

  Chapter Thirteen – Tuesday Night

  That lighter-than-air, buoyant confidence she’d felt on Saturday night had returned. Walking down the long corridor to their room, Alice watched him touch his jacket pocket for the tenth time. At first she’d assumed he was checking for the key; now she guessed he was afraid of losing track of something more important.

  She felt a little pang of guilt, knowing she might have spoiled what could have been a fairy-tale occasion, but she was positive that another moment would come along soon. And next time, she knew, she would be ready – she somehow knew the emotional seesaw had finally stopped.

  He had, as he’d said, gotten ahead of her. Since they’d reached the hotel, there had been some subtle change in him she couldn’t quite identify. He’d been more self-assured, more relaxed, stronger somehow. She stopped walking.

  Halting instantly, he turned to her, his face concerned. “Sometimes I will lean on you; sometimes you will lean on me,” she said, her voice full of revelation.

  “Yes, of course,” he said, sounding relieved, “that’s how it’s supposed to work.” He kissed her lightly. “Do you want to keep going or do you want me to take your clothes off in the hall?”

  “It may have to be the hall – I think we’re halfway back to Hope Falls. Where is this room?”

  “I believe that’s it straight ahead, at the end. Shall I carry you?”

  “I’ll struggle on. But believe me, these shoes aren’t designed for long walks.”

  He lifted his eyebrows and said, in that tone that made her heart flutter, “I’d love to hear what they were designed for, as soon as we’re inside. Though I think I already know.”

  Handing her the key card and stepping aside, he asked her to open the door, explaining he had terrible luck with the damn things. Alice got it on the first try and preceded him in. “Oh, my,” was all she said.

  It was a very large room with an entire wall of windows looking out at the lake. A comfortable-looking sofa stood before a hearth with a fire ready to be lit; the king bed was on the far wall, covered with a soft plaid spread. This was rustic elegance, luxurious but cozy. “Well, we could just move in here,” Alice said, walking over to the windows.

  Ryan went over to the hearth; he struck one of the long matches and the little fire leapt to life. Now he came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. “Oh, I think on a permanent basis, I’d prefer something a little more …”

  Brushing her hair to the side, he kissed the nape of her neck and finished, “private.” His hands slid up her torso to hold her breasts, the thumbs stroking her nipples. “Because I love,” he said, his lips roaming around her neck, “I love it when you make noise.”

  She felt his teeth nip at the back of her ear and she moaned. “You see?” he said. “You have no idea what that does to me.”

  “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” she said and arched her back to press herself against his erection.

  He groaned and his hands moved back to her waist to hold her firmly and turn her to him. His eyes looked into hers, glanced down to look at her lips, and returned to hers but he didn’t kiss her. Alice waited, her breathing deep and steady.

  With a small, confident smile, he moved one hand up her back to grasp the zipper of her dress and pull it down with one smooth motion. Alice dropped a shoulder to shrug the dress off, and stopped. “Ryan,” she said softly, “see all the twinkling lights out there, behind me?”

  “Mm-hmm,” he said, beginning to tug at her dress.

  “At least half of those people have telescopes.”

  Something glittered in his eyes and Alice caught her breath, but he stepped away from her. “Again,” he said, lifting his hands, “privacy. But I suppose tonight we’ll have to sacrifice the view.”

  As he walked to the corner of the room, Alice said “Or turn the lights out.”

  “Ha. Not a chance,” he replied, peering behind the curtains. “Oh, nifty,” he said, and pressed a button.

  The sheerer of the two drapes slid smoothly across the glass; he turned, took a step towards her. Then he stopped, his expression lustful, his eyes glittering again, and Alice felt the muscles below her waist twist and contract. He looked almost dangerous, she thought. What is he thinking about?

  ***

  Mine, he thought. Mine forever. He had never before felt this kind of desire -- he needed to own this woman, confirm the deep, immutable connection between them. Some remote corner of his brain made a feeble attempt to remind him how tenderly he loved her, then gave up. Lust wins again, he thought.

  Instead of crossing to her, he took a few steps over and half-leant, half-sat on the back of the sofa. “Alice,” he said, loosening and unknotting his tie. “Take off your dress.”

  She looked startled for only an instant, then he saw something reckless flit across her face -- a distant wa
rning bell went off, but he ignored it. She crossed her arms and with her fingers caressing her shoulders, slowly slid first one, then the other side of the sleeveless dress down to her elbows. The fabric dropped to her waist.

  Without looking at him, she eased the dress over her hips and it fell to the floor, revealing some kind of one-piece silky black thing. He tried to keep his face controlled but he was dazzled and she knew it. His heart began to pound and he had to start breathing through his mouth.

  Garters held the sheer black stockings this time, garters that disappeared under the lace at the top of her legs. She stepped gracefully out the dress, picked it up and ignoring him, crossed the room in those high heels, giving him a look at her ass.

  This mind-blowing garment was cut higher in back and a tiny sliver of rounded flesh peeked out below the lace. He imagined using his fingers to stroke her there and felt himself grow even harder. She went around the corner towards the bath; he heard a closet door slide open and the rattle of hangers.

  When she reappeared, she paused for a moment and smiled at him, fully aware of the effect she was having. She walked back slowly and when she stood before him, reached under his jacket to slide it off his shoulders. Their eyes were locked together but neither spoke.

  As she draped the jacket carefully over her arm, he saw the flicker of challenge in her eyes and he drew a short, sharp breath. She turned away then, heading back to the closet and he tried to avert his eyes, but found he couldn’t.

  She came back to stand with her knees almost touching his and he closed his eyes briefly, inhaling her sweet scent. He opened his eyes to see her reach for his shirt buttons; he caught her wrists, brought them behind her back, and firmly held them there with one hand.

  Making no effort to escape his grasp, she kept her eyes steadily on his and again he saw the challenge there, thrilling him. With the fingers of his other hand, he pushed at the thin strap on her shoulder until it fell across her upper arm, then trailed his fingertips across the tops of her breasts before sliding off the other shoulder strap. Still holding her gaze, he hooked a finger behind the top of the lace bodice and tugged gently until the fabric slid down, exposing her exquisite breasts.