Chapter 4: Prince Charming
Feeling a soft breeze on my face, I rolled over to find the brilliant morning sun peering through my window. CeCe was still sleeping. From my bedroom, I could hear some clanging and clattering going on in the kitchen downstairs. My mother was up as usual bright and early probably making breakfast for everyone—or at least those in my family who were not already outside working on the farm.
My mom was always up early, even on days when she didn’t have to get up for school. My mom, the youngest of five kids also, has forever been my biggest fan. Being the only daughter helps but I think even if I weren’t the only girl I’d still be close to my mom. She almost always wears a smile and I can count on her to be positive—especially when something is bothering me. I never quite understood how she was able to raise us, nonetheless be a kindergarten teacher, without ever yelling. Even if she didn’t like someone, you’d never know because she’s the type of person who treats everyone with compassion and respect. That was one of the many attributes that drew my dad to her. And although he never seems to rest I still catch my dad grabbing my mom from behind and giving her quick little pecks on her cheeks and neck—usually when she’s got her hands elbow deep in soapy dish water. My mom and dad grew up knowing each other because Grandma Rose and Grandma Evi were best friends but my mom hadn’t really ever noticed my dad until they went on a youth retreat that their youth groups attended. My dad said that he was there to grow closer to God and have fun with his friends when he spotted the most beautiful girl with long brown hair singing and full of life. He could only see part of her face from where he was sitting but every once in a while, she would laugh and as she did her face turned sideways towards her friends. My dad said that he’d secretly had a crush on her for years. However, after seeing her in a new light, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. I’ve seen pictures of my mother when she was younger. She had long flowing brown hair and light colored freckles dotted all over her nose and cheeks. With dimples a mile deep, her smile is highly infectious. A lot of people say I look like her. It was one of these times that she was laughing and looking at her friends when she turned just enough to spot this tan-faced guy starring at her. She said that her cheeks blushed almost immediately from the intensity on his face. He said that she was so striking that he didn’t realize that his mouth had been gaping open the whole time until one of his friends gave him a quick jab in the side. My mom says she couldn’t help but start laughing and so did my dad after he got over his moment of embarrassment. Her beauty was much deeper than her looks and her kindness made her the most stunning woman he’d ever known. It probably helped too that their mothers were secretly always plotting their wedding. That weekend helped my mother see my father in a different way. She had gathered frogs and went on cemetery walks with him when they were younger. This time she saw the heart behind the boy who now appeared to have turned into a rugged but handsome man with a heart of gold. And the rest is history.
“Charlotte, CeCe, breakfast is ready. Come on down, it’s on the table.” My mom called from downstairs.
Turning over, CeCe yawned, and said, “Is it time to leave yet?”
“CeCe, that’s tomorrow.”
“I know I was just hoping to wake up to tomorrow today.” She said while looking up at the sun shimmering on the ceiling.
“I can’t believe we leave for school tomorrow. Summer has flown by. I’m so excited. Are you packed CeCe?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve had everything by the door for almost a week now. It’s been driving my mom nuts having her entryway cluttered with my stuff. I would have put my things out sooner had I known it would’ve drawn this much attention from her.” She said with a faint smile on her face.
“What about you Char?”
“I’ve got a few more things to finish packing but I’m almost done.”
“You know what? We should go to Trixie’s for lunch. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a great idea Ce. But I think we should start with breakfast first.”
“I hope your mom made her chocolate chip pancakes. She always makes the best food. I’m going to miss her cooking Char.”
“Ce, she always makes chocolate chip pancakes when you come over. I’m sure she did.”
Albeit a perfectionist in many areas, Bev’s cooking was not one of them. CeCe was always coming over to our house for dinner or any meal she could get that didn’t come from a box, a bag, or a restaurant. She was always raving about my mom’s cooking, especially her chicken-noodle soup. Since my mom knew her mother didn’t cook she insisted on making CeCe a pot of her famous chicken-noodle soup every time she got sick. CeCe was like a wild cat roaming for food. The more milk you put out for her the more she’d come back for seconds. My parents have an open door policy. Whenever someone is hungry they are always welcome at their table. At holidays, we’d easily have at least 30 people packed into their home. My mom’s favorite saying is ‘what’s one more’. As it was between my brothers, both my grandma’s and myself, she cooked for 9 daily, 10 including CeCe.
Walking down the stairs, I smelled the sweet aroma of warm chocolate and vanilla.
“Good morning girls. Did you sleep well?” My mom asked cheerfully.
“Good morning Mrs. Buchanan. I slept great. I would have woken up earlier if I knew you were making my favorite pancakes.” CeCe said in a buttery voice.
“I’m going to miss making you girls chocolate chip pancakes.” My mom said.
“Don’t worry mom you can always make me chocolate chip pancakes.” Richie said, from the living room.
“First, you have to sweet talk me like CeCe does Richie. She knows where the pudding is.” My mom said smiling at CeCe.
“Ha-ha Richie!” CeCe laughed.
“So what do you two have planned for your last day before college?” My mom asked while washing dishes.
“I think we’re going to Trixie’s for lunch later. The beach might be nice. I’m going to miss the beach too,” I said, chomping on my yummy chocolate chip pancakes.
“The beach sounds good.” CeCe said.
“Count me in for both cuz I know you’re gonna miss your ‘Wichie’,” Richie said in a baby voice.
“That’s fine Richie. You can buy our lunch since you’re going to miss your favorite cheerleaders.” I replied.
Besides CeCe, Richie was not only my brother but also my best friend. CeCe, Richie, and I spent many a night hanging out at the beach, playing bocce ball, watching chic flicks, and sharing our dreams—secret dreams, like being a Hollywood actor instead of a marketing pro or being anything other than a lawyer. Both Richie and CeCe defied the norms except when it came to writing their future. Richie, always outgoing and popular with the girls and guys, studied marketing because he felt it was something that our parents could be proud of him for even though his heart was never really convinced. And CeCe, studying political science because no matter how little or how hard she tried never seemed to be able to please her parents, or more importantly her mother, hoped this would finally be something she could have in common with them. Richie stood out from my other brothers. Choosing marketing, he thought, would help to balance out previous accomplishments of his like—Captain of the Cheerleading Squad at our school. Oh yeah, only Richie could get away with being a cheerleader and not get taunted for it by others at school. He could make anything look cool. He was usually the one to take risks and the one that my siblings could depend on to be the scapegoat if they got in trouble. Overly animated, Richie can make even the most pursed-lipped old lady laugh which came in handy with my father—the authoritarian in our household. My father, as most people, didn’t take Richie seriously and because of this my brother took to marketing to win over his respect though his heart belonged to Hollywood all along. Something most people didn’t know. Sometimes, when it was just CeCe, he, and I, we’d tease and call him Brad after one of his favorite actors, Brad Pitt. The first few times he laughed and then would make a rebuttal. A
fter awhile he started answering to Brad, which always made Ce and I cheese. Though he’d only be a phone call away, I knew I would miss him more than I could have imagined when we left for school.
“We better finish up quickly,” I said. “I still have to finish packing.”
“And don’t forget about dinner tonight at six. Aunt Juanita will be here as well as Grandma Rose’s new friend. They all want to see you before you leave tomorrow, Char.” My mom said as she dried her hands off on the well-worn dishtowel beside the sink.
“Grandma Rose has a new friend?” CeCe asked with a slight twist of her neck and raised eyebrows.
“I want to meet him too,” Richie smiled.
“Just don’t ask him too many questions at dinner Ce or Rose will yank your ear off,” I said seriously.
“True story.” Richie said pointing to his ear.
“She did not pull your ear off Richie.” My mother raised her voice from the laundry room.
“Mom, I had to have a stitch put in the back of my ear.” Richie said with his finger showing off the spot.
“That’s only because you jerked away when she was holding onto your ear after you mouthed off to her.” I said, defending my sweet but brazen grandmother.
My grandma Rose, my dad’s mom, is one of the toughest women you’ll ever meet. She’s also very cunning. Not only did she raise six kids on her own and run the peach orchard, which my dad took over just before marrying my mother, she was also the chair person for this committee, president for that club, and school board member at St. Marys. Everyone knows my grandma in this small town. My grandpa, who I never met, died very young while working one hot summer day in the orchard. My grandmother found him when she went out to take him his lunch. When the ambulance arrived they could not find a pulse. Later, she found out that he’d had a heart attack. She said that at first she was so devastated that it paralyzed her from taking care of her kids, the farm, or any of the other responsibilities on her plate. My grandmother has always credited God and the love and support of a few good friends, namely Evi, for getting her through those hard times. Although, I suspect the nice tall glass of spirited lemonade she carries around helped a bit too. My grandma still places a high value of keeping up with her friends. For a seventy-year old granny, she maintains a bustling schedule full of bridge, bingo, shopping and plenty of mini vacations with her girlfriends. I can always tell when she did well at bingo because she doesn’t get home until late—no doubt celebrating her victories over dinner with friends. After my father took over the farm, she had a quaint cottage built for her by the weeping willows overlooking the small lake behind the orchard. She said some of her most memorable experiences were spent by that lake and she wanted to wake up to happy memories every day. You could catch her starring out at the lake at times, smiling, quietly to herself, like she had some great kept secret. Rose, although she is empathetic, is not the person you’d go to if you were feeling sorry for yourself. Despite her losses in life, she’s chosen to focus on the wins only. She’s a fighter in true southern femme style. If nothing else, she has taught me to hold on to the good things in life- especially to the friends who stick with you through thick and thin and… mud.
“Okay Richie, enough reminiscing. We need to get going if we’re going to get in Trixie’s and the beach before dinner.” I called back to him from the stairway.
“I’m ready whenever you girls are.” He insisted.
I quickly marched up the stairs with CeCe. I still had some packing to do but I could easily pull an all-nighter if I needed to. Right now I wanted to get to the beach and get some more rays as I knew it wouldn’t be until next summer before I got back there. And Trixie’s was definitely a priority because I wanted to say goodbye to Trudy and get my favorite chocolate milkshake and cheese fries, a staple in this teenage girl’s diet.
Trixie’s, a small diner with big heart was like a second home to CeCe, Richie, and I. For every celebratory event, heartache, or rainy day, we plopped ourselves down in the 1950’s style booth in the corner right between the jukebox and the Elvis Presley cutout. Trudy, a single mom and server at the diner, for years, could have been a surrogate mother for CeCe and me. She always knew what to say to us to turn our day around. She also knew how to handle the men that would come in and try to get fresh with her. That was entertaining to watch. At 5’2, Trudy’s not the typical blonde bombshell that most people, at first glance presume. Smart and funny, she keeps the regulars coming back not just for the food but for the feeling they get of being known by name. A native of St. Marys, Trudy has never stepped foot outside this small town. I don’t know how but she always seems happy even as a single mom, working at a diner for a living. Years ago she fell in love with a handsome stranger who abandoned her while pregnant. Still after that she kept a smile on her face more often than not. She says that she could have chosen to be angry for the rest of her life but that Charlie, her daughter, is the best gift that anyone has ever given her. I just never understood how someone so young and full of life could be happy in the constraints of a small, old-fashion town but Trudy was.
Driving up to Trixie Rox, I spotted a few familiar cars in the packed parking lot. A lot of other beach goers must have had the same idea, an ice-cold milkshake and some cheesy fries to fight off the heat and hunger that a long day at the beach demands.
“Hey that looks like Veronica’s car,” Richie said, smiling.
“Hey, that looks like Veronica’s car,” CeCe echoed mockingly.
“I don’t even know why someone as awesome as yourself Richie would ever like someone so shallow and fake as Veronica,” said CeCe in a sarcastic voice.
Veronica was the only girl that drove CeCe nuts and Richie knew it. Richie, who was liked by all, (especially the girls) always, thought that Veronica was cute…and Veronica made it a point to flirt with him. Veronica was 5’9 and 120 pounds of perfect. Long, straight, blonde hair and legs a mile high, she was the captain of the tennis team, co-cheerleading captain (CeCe was the other co-captain of the cheerleading squad our senior year), Miss Homecoming queen, President’s award recipient and CeCe’s arch rival. Secretly, CeCe was always trying to out-do Veronica and vice-versa Veronica did her best to make perfection look easy. I think the competition started in fifth grade when CeCe was showing Eric Sothersby off when Veronica Sweetly interrupted her parade by walking by and smiling harmoniously at Eric. Feeling threatened by the cute little blonde, with perfectly parted pigtails, whose mother was also a powerhouse in the community, CeCe shot her a laser-eyed look to shoo her away from her new prize possession. Sweet, but not dense to her plan, Veronica shot her back an equally menacing look when Eric turned his back, before she smiled at CeCe and walked away, triumphantly. Since then CeCe and Veronica have been competing against each other in everything from boyfriends to cheerleading captain to fashion icon to president of the student government body and then some. And when Veronica won Miss Homecoming queen, CeCe was secretly devastated—even though she smiled during the crowning on the football field to cover the pain of defeat. CeCe didn’t quite feel as bold a competitor again until she won Miss St. Marys a few months later. And then she was back and as audacious as ever.
Pulling open the door to the diner, I quickly scanned the room and felt like it was a mini-high school reunion. Amongst all the recognizable faces including Veronica’s, there were many more unfamiliar, youthful ones. Next, I spotted Trudy who was busy running the show, pinning up orders for the kitchen crew, and getting ready to stack her tray with scrumptious diner food. Looking toward our usual spot I spied four guys that looked to be college-aged sitting in our booth. As soon as CeCe discovered Veronica looking towards our table, CeCe realized her new assignment—make sure Veronica saw CeCe befriending the guys she couldn’t take her eyes off and make her green with envy.
“Hey girls, I’m sure they won’t mind sharing the booth,” Trudy yelled over the crowd, once she spotted us.
“Thanks Tru, it’s busy in here today.”
I said, yelling back over the noise.
“Yea, it’s the last rush before everyone leaves for school tomorrow.” She said, as she came closer towards us.
Walking to our table, CeCe had already caught the gaze of at least two of the guys sitting in the booth.
“We’re not really going to sit with all those guys are we ladies?” Richie implored, frowning all the way.
“Richie, are you intimidated by those hot beefy guys?” CeCe said wincing back at Richie.
“Are you kidding Ce? Nah, I’m not intimidated, I’m just going to go catch up with Veronica.” Richie smirked as he quickly turned towards her table.
“Hey boys, you’re sitting at our table but I guess I’ll let it slide if you scoot over,” CeCe said grinning.
One of the guys parked at our table who was staring at CeCe, turned quickly towards the back of the booth, pretending to be looking at something before flipping back around and declaring to CeCe, “your name must be gorgeous”.
“How did you know?” CeCe said coyly, flipping back to see the look on Veronica’s face.
Yes, another score for CeCe! She was always looking at ways to keep the score at least even if not ahead of Veronica’s accomplishments. CeCe scooted into our booth and I slid in right after her. I sat there listening to the conversations going on around me feeling like an outsider. CeCe loved being in the spotlight and soaked up the attention of all the guys surrounding us. The heat of the day and the salt from swimming in the ocean all afternoon tired me out. I loved the beach and spent most of my time there when I was not in school or at Trixie’s. There was a picture I kept pinned to my mirror in my bedroom that I imagined as me in a tropical beach paradise. I found it in a magazine once, several years ago. It was of a young woman, dressed only in a white, simple bikini, standing on a stretch of sandy beach in between two small lush islands. One hand held a snorkeling mask while the other lay gently at her side. Her relaxed smile depicted the ethereal beauty around her. Although I didn’t know where the photograph was taken, I could tell it was some foreign country with great, raw beauty. It was a picture of inspiration that made me work hard in everything I did so that one day I would reach my dreams of traveling the world and discovering the unadulterated and rare treasures of the globe, like this. Being at the beach kept my dreams alive.
“Hey Char; do you want to go to the party?”
Suddenly I was yanked back into some sort of conversation that I had not heard a word of since I sat down. These guys were cute but all the same. They were just hanging out in this town for a novel time. Probably, most of them were from Savannah and were here escaping all the ordinariness of the big city, like most of the college guys and girls that were not full-time residents of our community. None of them stuck around and usually were condescending towards the locals, as if they were better than us because they had second homes here. Anyway, it sounded like we had just been invited to some sort of last summer bash. Since, I had no plans other than dinner with the family and Aunt Juanita; I figured a party might help to speed up the countdown to tomorrow. I could finish the packing in the morning if I really needed to.
“Yeah, I think I could fit that in.” I said, trying to look as if I’d been listening the entire time.
An hour later and two milkshakes down, we were back in the car heading towards home. CeCe was going on and on about one of the guys she had just met and how he was in his second year at Georgia Tech, studying something she couldn’t quite remember the name of. It wasn’t really important anyway. It was only his good looks, flirtatiousness, and prestigious front that caught her attention. It wouldn’t last long anyway. We were headed to college, a different college, and CeCe liked to keep it fresh and exciting. She never really dated anyone for more than a date or two. The only relationship that lasted with anyone was with Father John—to ask for forgiveness for her habitual promiscuous behavior.
“There’s Aunt Juanita.” I said as we pulled up in the driveway.
“Oh yeah, Grandma Rose is also bringing her man friend.” Richie reminded us.
“Hey girls”, Aunt Juanita called out from the porch, “how was the beach?”
Hugging Aunt Juanita I said, “It was great but it’s even better to see you!”
“You’re such a sugar.” Aunt Juanita said to me in her thick southern drawl. And pretty just like your momma.” She added.
“So did you meet Grandma’s man friend yet?” Richie asked jokingly.
“Yes I did and he seems very sweet.” Aunt Juanita said eyeballing Richie.
“Well, did you guys have a good time?” Grandma Rose said as she was walked out the front door to greet us on the porch.
“It was great. More importantly—where is this hottie we’ve been hearing about Rose?” CeCe asked as she walked up to give her a hug.
“He’s in the bathroom…again.” She said giggling, “It’s only been the fourth time since we got here. He’s very nice, so you kids better behave.”
“Grams, we always behave,” Richie snickered while giving her shoulders a quick rub.
“Hmm, like the time you scared away my sugar daddy?” She quickly replied.
“Grams, I was like eight years old and he smelled like sardines and bad cigars. And furthermore, how was I supposed to know he was allergic to cats and didn’t like kids in his face.” He said convincingly.
“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t like fish and you were a cute kid Richie.” Grandma Rose said as she now squeezed her arm around Richie’s waist as they walked inside.
“Oh and you did know that he was allergic to cats because I asked you to keep the cat in the laundry room before he came because they cause him to breaks out in hives.” She retorted back tightening her hold on him.
Richie is Grandma Rose’s favorite like I’m Aunt Juanita’s. He could get away with just about anything with her. Although, every once in a while when we were kids, she’d beat his little butt like the time he put lawn fertilizer in the fuel tank of the lawn mower (without telling anyone) to see what would happen. That was during the time Richie pondered about being a scientist when he grew up. It wasn’t until he was in high school that he realized he was a natural entertainer for more than just our family. He would take apart things—like dad’s brand new radio and mix things together that created small explosions—like the one time he singed the peach fuzz right off his forearms. This particular time, though, Richie did know about Mr. Knipper’s allergy to cats. He secretly despised him for monopolizing ‘his grams’ and was curious how fast the hives would appear. He came up with a daft little trick too. When mom invited Mr. Knipper and grandma over for dinner, he jumped up in Mr. Knipper’s lap and started hugging him. Mr. Knipper wasn’t sure what to do other than try not to drop him in front of grandma. Mr. Knipper was not the most kid-friendly man. Richie bouncing all over him, then started rubbing his face between his two small hands, shaking his head back and forth, repeating “hi Mr. Knipper” over and over again before my mother could finally pull him off his lap. Of course, this was after Richie spent a half hour in the laundry room petting and brushing Mr. Winkles, our cat, until half his hair fell out. Shortly after everyone sat down for dinner Mr. Knipper’s right cheek started twitching. His eyes seemed all of a sudden smaller. Trying to answer questions that my dad believed were thoughtful, he began to have a small cough backing up his sentences. Richie sat across from him, studying his face, while eating his peas. Not once did he take his eyes off him. Richie was keeping track of the time. The more Mr. Knipper talked the more he rubbed his neck and coughed until it was obvious to everyone at the table that something was truly wrong. Grandma and mom noticed first that he started having red splotches all over his face and neck. His eyes and cheeks began swelling up like he stuffed 50 marshmallows in his mouth. My mom ran to the medicine cabinet for some Benadryl while my dad called 911 to get the ambulance.
Apparently, that’s what happens when someone is allergic to cats…very allergic to cats. After all the drama was over an
d Mr. Knipper was deemed stable at the ER, Richie told me that it took approximately 12 minutes for the welts to take over Mr. Knipper’s face. Although neither Richie nor I ever said anything about that night to anyone, Grandma was onto Richie’s stunt. That was the last time we saw Mr. Knipper. Dinner with my family was always exciting.
At dinner that night my brothers joked around telling tall tales and recounting silly stories from when we were younger, on the farm. Grandma Evi, my mother’s mom, with Alzheimer’s, sat still, smiling. She moved in with my parents after Grandpa Wasis died. Even though she could no long speak in sentences due to the advanced stage of her disease, she sat comfortably, seeming entertained by the boy’s animated stories. Every now and then CeCe interjected some of her fond memories of our shenanigans with Richie—like sneaking out for cow rides at two in the morning. My mother and Aunt Juanita caught up and Aunt Juanita shared some stories about her latest trip to Haiti. Grandma Rose’s man friend sat quietly, smiling the majority of the time, when he was not excusing himself to the bathroom or straightening his toupee. He seemed like a nice little man and was about a foot shorter than Grandma. Dad was busy enjoying the delicious spread my mother prepared, like she did for all our family dinners, when he wasn’t talking about the farm with grandma. Sitting back with a belly full of great food and even better company, I watched as our dinner table, once again, lit up with laughter. I loved my family and the dinners that easily lasted hours. I couldn’t wait to get to Athens but dinners with my family where priceless.
I looked at my watch and realized that it was almost nine o’clock. I whispered in CeCe’s ear that we needed to get going to the party and motioned to Richie. We gave hugs to Aunt Juanita, Grandma’s Evi, Rose, and her little man friend. I kissed my mom and dad goodbye before walking towards the door. My mother followed us to the entryway and quietly reminded us to stick together, not drink, and not do anything that we couldn’t do if she were in the same room with us.
“Thanks mom, I love you too.” I said as I gave her another kiss and hug before tromping down the front porch steps.
“Remember you need to be home before the sun comes up; I’ll be waiting up for you.” She said smiling as she stood in the doorway waving goodbye at us.
There were cars parked all up and down the block when we arrived. I could already hear music wafting from the house. I was a little excited about the party but knew I’d probably be spending most of it by myself while CeCe exchanged spit with the college guy she fancied from Trixie’s. Richie opted to stay home and catch up on his video games. I didn’t mind hanging by myself as my heart was already in Athens—where the real party was waiting. This was just a bonus, in the meantime.
The music reverberated as we opened the door. There were beautiful people enjoying themselves everywhere I looked.
“CeCe, what’s the name of the guy you’re looking for?”
“James or Jim, I think.” She said as she scanned over the house.
“Do I look okay Char? No eye or nose boogies, right?”
“You look great, no eye or nose boogies.” I said reassuring her. “What about me?”
“Beautiful of course, Char. You got some good sun today; your freckles are all over.” CeCe said hugging me quickly.
“So who are you going to be tonight Char?” Ce asked as she continued to scan the room.
“I don’t know. Maybe, I’ll be Lucy tonight,” I said jokingly.
“That’s a good name. I have to be CeCe,” she said amusingly, “because Jim already knows my real name from the diner.”
“That’s a great name,” I said grinning at CeCe. We always gave fake names to guys we didn’t know or met at parties just in case they ended up being annoying or creepy. We figured it would make us harder to find if they weren’t boyfriend material.
Yelling over the crowd, the guy CeCe had been looking for found us. In tow, he had two guys and a girl following him. Undoubtedly, CeCe would have tried to fix me up with the lone guy had I promptly told her “Don’t bother CeCe, I don’t need a date tonight and he doesn’t look interesting anyway.”
“Oh Char—don’t judge a book by its cover.”
“I’m not. Just go enjoy yourself CeCe, I’m going to get a drink and hang out on the deck. Promise me thou that you won’t leave the party with that guy. I need a ride a home, you know.”
“I promise! I would never leave you! You’re my BFF!” She said as she skipped away.
Before CeCe snuck away with the college cutie, I vowed to meet back up with her, in a few hours, on the deck of this beautiful beach house humming with life and mesmerizing music. Sitting quietly, with one hand resting in my lap and the other holding a drink, I appreciated the calm peace I felt in all the noise. There were young people everywhere laughing and talking, drinking and dancing, inside and out on the beach. The music drifted in muted tones across the deck sending goose bumps across my neck and arms as I sat back in the lounge chair over-looking the ocean. I was so relaxed that I was reminded of my favorite book, the Great Gatsby. Gatsby always had the best parties. His home, on the beach, was filled with people just like me looking for a good time to pass the time. I sat silently taking in the still beauty of the night, admiring the white caps softly hitting the moonlit sandy shore. Almost a little too relaxed; a sudden and thunderous belch sprang forth. I laughed and let out a little “ooh” until I heard someone else, laugh behind me, and I jumped. Thinking I was alone on the deck, I was surprised to find a smiling guy standing behind me—a really cute, smiling guy.
“That’s pretty impressive. You know most adolescent boys would be envious.” He said with a serious look on his face before letting down his eyebrows and walking towards me.
“Okay, you tell me a secret. You already know mine. Heavy-weight belcher, defender of the Southern title”, I joked to cover my embarrassment.
Blushing, he looked out at the crashing waves rolling in before peering at me from the side of his face. I could tell that my question had caught him off guard after my grand impression.
“Really?” He asked with a smile deepening the dimples chiseled above his smooth ivory jawbone. His eyes twinkled from the light of the deck and the full moon overhead. They were a brilliant blue that reminded me of the way my Aunt Juanita described the Grecian seas in her travels around the Mediterranean. Starring intently at me, he created a warmth that slowly crept up my backside. I could feel it spreading to my arms, that just moments ago had goose bumps.
“Yeah.”
Looking up to the left before his eyes rolled to the right he replied, “I can’t stand Nirvana.”
“Wow, you got me there!” I said with an over exaggerated look on my face.
“What?”
“I could have guessed that from your polo and your loafers.”
“Are you mocking my style?” He said charmingly.
“No, of course not,” I said coyly. “I said a secret, not an obvious assumption.”
“Oh. So, you’re saying that I’m predictable?”
“No, but most of the out-of-town guys wearing polo’s and loafers are usually riding around on their boats blaring U2. Dr. Dre if they’re trying to look a little less like you know…a jock driving their dad’s yacht.”
“Is that what you think about me?”
“I don’t know. I just met you. Should I think that? Does your dad own a boat?”
“Yes. But what’s wrong with being a jock?” And why do wearing loafers or polo’s, owning boats, and not liking Nirvana define me as a jock?” He asked, now looking directly at me.
“What’s wrong with being a jock?” I stammered as an image of a drunken, obnoxious, conceited Jersey flashed through my head.
“Nothing, if you think being conceded, ungrateful, and having everything handed to you on a silver platter is okay.”
“Wow, sounds like somebody got burnt?” He said, taking a sip of his drink.
Quickly realizing I sounded like a bitter and scorned ex-girlfriend from the abrupt
seriousness our playful conversation went to, I giggled and apologized, “I’m Lucy, can we start over?”
“Before or after that extraordinary monstrous belch?” He laughed, before extending his hand forward, “I’m Skylar Flower. Only my friends call me Skylar and only my really good friends get away with calling me Sky Flower.”
“Hmm… Sky Flower.” I repeated his words aloud, hypnotized by his engaging smile and firm handshake.
“And now you know my secret. I’m a product of hippies who wanted a baby girl.”
“I thought my burp was embarrassing; you’re starting to help me feel a lot better about myself.” I teased.
Chuckling quietly, Skylar asked, “Do you want to take a walk on the beach?”
“I’d like that.”
As we started to let our guards down, I felt an unfamiliar tickling jostle around in my belly. Watching him talk made me smile. The more he talked, the more I smiled. I tried biting my lip to hide the smile but it just got bigger. The more I smiled, the more he smiled. It was odd and infectious. I don’t know why I couldn’t erase the smile off my face. It was almost like having to pee and trying not to do the peepee dance in public, yet still dancing around, trying to pass it off while others slowly and amusingly caught on to what you were really doing. He was gentle in his mannerisms and the slight facial expressions he made spoke of his character. Calm and collected, he was skilled at being charming without being rude or too nice. He asked me about my dreams and what I wanted to do when I grew up—as if he didn’t notice I was almost grown up. This was in contrast to boys I had entertained in passing conversations. Like Jersey, I can’t ever remember having any kind of a conversation where he wanted to know more about me or my opinion. He was always busy telling me about himself or his pumped up accomplishments. As I shared with him my dreams of being a journalist and writing books one day, I could tell Skylar was interested in what I had to say. He told me about visiting foreign countries, as a kid, with his little sister and his parents who had helped build orphanages all around the world. He laughed and said that his hippie parents got saved, by some visiting missionaries, when he was a baby while they were living in a commune in Southern California. After that they felt called to help the less fortunate. He said that because of his interesting upbringing that he wanted to do something good in the world but wasn’t sure what it was just yet. He knew he would find his purpose eventually. For now though, he was attending college overseas, studying international business.
“I’ve always loved coming to the beach at night and watching the stars.” He said, taking a seat on the sandy shore. “It gives me a peace inside—I know that somewhere up there God is watching and listening to me. When life gets messy, I come to the beach and think out loud.” He said drawing his knees up with his arms resting over them, as his hair blew slightly in the breeze.
“The beach is a second home to me too. I’d live here if my mom let me. Messy?” I asked looking at him, wondering what he had to worry about with the great family and life experiences he shared with me earlier.
“Yeah, messy…you know, stressful.” He paused for a moment.
“Stressful?”
“My mom’s had cancer twice in the last four years and both times there was no guarantee that she’d make it out. It was pretty scary for a while.” He said glancing out over the sea at the stars twinkling in the sky.
“Wow—I’m sorry to hear that. Is she okay now?” I asked, seeing the heart behind his good looks and charm.
“She’s in remission now but she’s been pretty secretive lately. She doesn’t like to worry us.”
“My grandma Rose had cancer when I was nine but she told me that she was too ornery too die.” I said smiling. “I was probably too young at the time to understand the fullness of her circumstances but after I overheard my mom talking to my dad about her illness, I remember worrying that she would die and leave me. That night I told God that he was not allowed to have her because I was too young to be without my grandma.”
Smiling, Skylar looked at me warmly. “That sounds like a familiar conversation I’ve had with Him too. I made a deal with God that if he let her live, I’d willingly do whatever he had planned for my life.”
“Are you scared what that may be?” I asked curiously.
“No, I know He loves me and has good things planned, whatever they are. For now, I’m waiting for Him to guide me. He’s never abandoned me yet. So, I’ll wait for his call.”
“How will you know when He calls you?” I asked, interested in the depth of his words.
“He always shows up at the right time. Just when times get too dark and you feel all alone, he sends signs and people to help lift our spirits and direct our paths. So, when He’s ready, He’ll let me know.” He said, looking at me directly.
His magnetic charisma had drawn me to him. I could have talked with him all night long and not have realized the time passing. Not only was he smart and funny but his soul was warm and deeply genuine. I found myself no longer wanting to pass the time, to just get to tomorrow; I wanted to drench myself into every minute I was with him. Every word he said and every smile that embraced his lips made me feel like a kid in a toy store. I couldn’t remember having this much fun just talking ever. I was so intrigued and overcome with an unexpected, intense feeling of joy. We talked about the lives we imagined for ourselves, one day. When he talked about wanting to get married and have kids, I was surprised to mentally find myself imagining me in his life. I envisioned him and I running through a beautiful home chasing after a giggling toddler, with a cute dog following close behind. There was laughter, lots of it. I could even picture the dog—a yellow lab, furry and sweet, probably one we rescued from an animal shelter. I couldn’t believe that I let my mind wonder like this. I didn’t even know him but I felt like he knew me in a way that no one knew me.
A cool ocean breeze swept over me, forging a chill to climb up my back and slip around my neck, causing me to shudder and pull my shoulders together. Skylar took notice and pulled off his cardigan. He draped it over my shoulders and backside and I felt the ripples of warmth from his strong hands radiate through my body. I wondered if he had a girlfriend or someone special in his life. I figured he must have with all the charm he possessed. If there was someone did they talk like this? Did she know the beauty of his soul? I wondered if he could tell that every second we were together, I was writing him into my life. How I hoped that my face wasn’t giving me away.
His hand brushed the side of my face as he pulled the cardigan snugly around me. It smelled like warm vanilla and beach sandalwood. The intoxicating smell and the intensity of the moment made me weak. I warily looked up not sure what would happen next. Skylar looked into my eyes and paused a moment. Looking into his crystal-blue eyes, I could feel an unexpected burst of butterflies in my stomach making it hard to breath. I felt weak, all of a sudden, and my hands became shaky. I was losing control of my composure. A grin rose up his left side reaching across to the right side before he reached for my hands and folded them into his, nestling them in between our chests. I smiled back nervously, thinking I could lose my bearings at any second and fall. I didn’t know how much longer I could look into his eyes before he could read my mind. Slowly, he leaned forward and I closed my eyes. His soft, full lips pressed gently into mine and everything in my body froze. It was as if everything around me went silent and dark. His kiss was sweet like the nectar from the peaches on our farm. I could have kissed him for a million years with no regrets. One of his hands broke free from mine and slipped through the back of my hair, gently caressing my head. His other arm wrapped around my waist and held me tight. Our kiss intensified, taking in his breath, his hold on me tightened. We came up for air with our eyes wide open, leaning nose-to-nose. It was reckless abandon. I had been taught to leave the sacredness of our bodies and our hearts for only one person in life. I couldn’t explain what was coming over me. Suddenly, an image of my mother popped in my head before I quickly shooed h
er away. I had never felt this way with anyone else, ever. This foreign and powerful emotion swept over me—making me weak in my senses. I was caught up in the moment and couldn’t think about where this might be going. Never having felt this before I imagined this might be what love felt like and I didn’t want it to end.
“I really like you. You’re not like anyone I’ve met. I don’t want to mess this up Lucy.” Skylar whispered in my ear as his cheek rested against my temple.
I loved his honor and his strong sense to do the right thing. I could tell he was fighting back his urges to take me further down the path he and I wanted so badly to explore. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling intoxicated in the moment.
“I like you too,” I said in a trance-like state. “I’m not scared.”
Holding my face in the palm of his hands, his eyes searched my face. “If we don’t stop before this goes too far I’m scared that I may never know what a future with you could be like.”
“I just don’t want to miss something that I may wonder about the rest of my life,” I said, making myself vulnerable to Skylar’s emotions.
“Lucy, I don’t want to take something of yours—something that’s not mine to take.”
“I feel safe with you Skylar.”
Scanning my face, Skylar bent down to kiss my lips again. Once more, when his lips touched mine, my body went limp and my breathing stopped. I was falling deeply, quickly, madly in love with him.
“Take my hand.” He said as he stood up and led me to a small covered cabana on the beach. As he laid me softly down on the chaise lounge, he leaned in and kissed my ear whispering, “Let’s make tonight last forever.”
That night was one I never stopped dreaming about. Skylar was everything I dreamt that a prince charming should be. He was kind, smart, funny, respectful, handsome, and loved God. Even though we knew that what we’d done didn’t sit right with our beliefs—we took a chance hoping that by holding onto every moment together, our lives would intertwine. I wanted to give Skylar something no one else had in hopes he would return me his tomorrows. I was told that nothing in life is coincidence. Meeting Skylar tonight was my destiny and I’d never been so happy to meet my fate. My mind had already encapsulated him into my future—accompanying me in my journeys around the world, chasing toddlers, and puppies.
“Are you okay Lucy?” Skylar asked, as he lifted my chin up with his thumb and forefinger.
With my face glistening in the moonlight, I answered, “Yes, are you?” I looked at him checking for his reassurance.
“Lucy, I’ve never met anyone like you. I…”
Waiting for him to finish his sentence, I looked over his face, as he appeared to be searching for the right words to say.
“I’ve never felt like this before about anyone. And I want you to know that I don’t act like this normally.”
“Act like what?” I asked, feeling all of a sudden more alert.
“I don’t go around meeting girls and falling in love with them. I haven’t slept with anyone before and I am sorry if I am talking too much. I just don’t want you thinking I’m some sort of jock that gets around.”
I had started to feel a bit self-conscious before he spoke as I couldn’t discern the look on his face. But now, I heard him say something about falling, no one else—it was all muffled. Blushing, I looked up at Skylar and my heart started to pound. I thought it was going to explode out of my chest. He turned closer to me, lying on his side, now face-to-face with me. Gathering enough breath to speak I said, “Skylar, I’ve never slept with anyone and never considered it before you.” I paused, “I don’t think that about you and thank you for that.”
“For what?”
“For helping me know that I didn’t just make a mistake…and that there really are good guys out there.”
I had never met anyone like Skylar. Even though we were from different worlds, we connected. We laughed. We got entrenched in each other’s stories. He drew me in with every word and held me close. It was like a flowing stream. We went on and on with no breaks—only wanting for more time as we saw the early beginnings of the new day amongst us.
“I don’t want this to end.” Skylar said, with his arms wrapped around me as we watched the moon continue its path across the sky.
“I have to get back; my friend is going to be worried if I don’t.” I said hesitantly.
I turned and gave Skylar a kiss on the cheek. Just hours before meeting Skylar I couldn’t wait to get to Athens to start my freshman year at the University of Georgia. Now, I didn’t want this night to end. I didn’t want to leave Skylar. I knew we would meet up again but my heart was strongly bonded to him even more with the coming of the new day and the goodbye’s we would be saying, soon.
Walking back to the beach house, things had gotten much quieter than when we left it some hours ago. Hand-in-hand, and wearing his cardigan, we entered the house.
Quickly, one of Skylar’s friends found him and insisted they had to get going because of one of the guy’s curfews. I reached into my purse to look for a pen and paper.
“Didn’t you say your friend is around here somewhere?” Skylar asked, looking around.
“Yeah, she’s here somewhere. She promised she wouldn’t leave me.” I said, writing my phone number on the back of a receipt.
“Are you sure I can’t give you a ride home or stay with you until you find her?”
“Sky, we have to go.” One of his friends called out.
“I’ll be okay; she’s around here somewhere. Skylar, I have to see you again. Here’s my number.” I looked into his eyes.
He took my pen and ripped off a piece of the paper with my number on it. He wrote his number down, folded the paper up, and placed it in my hands.
“I promise Lucy; I will see you again. Keep my sweater and think of me till I see you next. Until then, your beauty will haunt my dreams,” Skylar smiled and leaned in to kiss me goodbye. Seconds later as he was ushered away by his friends he shouted, “Lucy, you are the most beautiful girl in the world,” before he disappeared out the door.
As he walked away I grinned, feeling like the most beautiful woman in the world. After he was gone I felt a growing heaviness in my chest. I sat on one of the sofas, wrapped in his sweater, feeling numb. I already missed him. I could smell his cologne on the sweater as I brought the sleeves up to my face. Making my heart skip a beat the smell brought me back to the cabana. The smell was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and time stopped all over again. I felt the butterflies fill my stomach, remembering his kiss on my lips, and for a few quiet moments I smiled reliving our unforgettable night. I couldn’t believe that I’d met someone that I imagined a lifetime with. People talked about having soul mates—people who were destined for each other. I was sure he was mine. I was still floating, thinking about him, our conversation, and how he made me feel. While waiting for CeCe, I pulled the folded paper out of my pocket that Skylar placed in my hand. On it were his number, Skylar, and a message that read olive juice? Seeing his handwriting made my face break into an unending smile. I squeezed his sweater and inhaled Skylar’s cologne again.
“Char, where have you been?” CeCe asked, interrupting my moment of joy. “I’ve been looking all over for you. It’s almost four in the morning.”
“CeCe—I met someone.”
“Good, we need to go. I hope your mom’s not still waiting up for us; she’ll be worried.”
“I know, I lost track of time and I didn’t care about anything else for once.” I said, glowing.
CeCe stopped dragging me along and looked at me, surprised. “You can tell me all about him on the way home.”
Still intoxicated by the hormones pumping through my body, I felt good and woozy. As we drove through the quiet streets with our windows down and my hand waving through the rushing summer air outside the car window, I told CeCe all about Skylar. I told her how we made love in the private cabana under the moonlit sky and that I thought he was the one.
?
??Charlotte Renee Buchanan—you had sex! Father John is going to be shocked! You better start on those Hail Mary’s now!”
“CeCe!”
How was it? Was it good? Was he sweet? How are you feeling? Did you use protection I hope?” CeCe blurted out question after question.
“CeCe! Yes it was incredible and yes we used protection and yes Father John is going to be shocked. I still can’t believe I did it. I don’t know what came over me. It’s not what I planned.”
“Well, are you going to see each other again?”
“Of course, we will. We exchanged phone numbers. He also wrote olive juice on my paper. I’m not sure what that was about. I’m already dreaming about the next time I’m going to see him although I’ll probably need to tell him my real name at some point.”
CeCe giggled excitedly. “Char, mouth the words olive juice without saying a sound. He’s saying I love you.”
Quickly mouthing the words I wanted to believe that Skylar was trying to tell me he loved me… too.
Sneaking quietly into the house, I saw my mother sleeping on the couch. She had fallen asleep while waiting for us to come home. I pulled the throw from the back of the sofa and covered her before turning off the light and TV. By the time I slipped into bed, it was almost five AM. I laid in bed, wearing Skylar’s sweater, with my windows open watching the remaining journey of the moon as the sun quickly chased him away. I hoped he was watching the same moon thinking of me too. I envisioned Skylar and me on the beach until I fell asleep.