Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Prescott had a vision. It was like the picture of a whole and if he spoke or lost concentration, it would shatter like a soap bubble. For one of the only times in his life, he wished he had some kind of electronic device with him so he could try to make some notes at least.

“The office,” he said.

When he got there, he was surprised to find the building dark and locked up then realized it was Sunday. Good. He’d be completely alone and uninterrupted.

He input his codes and entered the quiet building, holding onto the picture in his head with all his fierce concentration.

He got these sometimes, not as often as he’d like, the entire design all in his head and perfect.

He shut the door to his office with a decided snap and went to his drawing board. Fresh tracing paper was always waiting for him along with his supply of new 2H pencils and assorted pens. He pulled up the photos of the site, the interior measurements, grabbed an architectural scale. And in the white heat of creation, he began to draw.

He kept going, refining, page after page, as the design he’d conceived began to take logical shape. Each room connected, resonant.

“Yes,” he said finally, softly.

He glanced up, stretching out his neck, which was stiff from the hours in the same position. He stood, realized the daylight was long gone and that he was very hungry.

When he glanced at the clock he found it was nearly midnight. At some point he’d snapped on the light at his desk, so his drawings were illuminated in a pool of light. Satisfied, deeply satisfied, he stretched and wondered if it was too late to call Holly.

Midnight? Of course it was too late. She was probably sound asleep.

Too bad. He was keyed up and wanted to tell her about his ideas. Maybe show her the sketches.

He headed home, but wasn’t in the mood to settle. He grabbed a quick bite at a Nob Hill all-night diner, a Portuguese place. The Latino feel made him think about Luis’s grandparents and how much happier they’d be, he thought, he hoped, with his new vision for their house.

After a Caldo Verde soup and a burger, he took himself for a long walk. As he strolled the relatively quiet streets, he began to see that he’d made a breakthrough, not only in his design, but in his sense of himself in the world. He didn’t know why Holly had been the one to poke and prod him into accepting that the defenses he’d gathered around him as a small child were now tripping him up, but since he’d known her, she’d been chipping away at them, not even realizing she was doing it anymore than he’d realized she was weakening his defenses.

Sharing his dark memories with her the other night had been, he supposed, like an extended therapy session. Once he’d talked it through, and she’d slept, he’d spent the hours until morning examining his memories and coming to realize that he’d clung to a way of being that was no longer useful.

No wonder he’d been so twitchy at the thought of weddings. He’d seen something he thought he couldn’t have, in the company of a woman he didn’t think he deserved.

Poor little boy, she’d said to him. He shook his head, hearing his own footsteps on the pavement. Poor, stupid big boy, he thought, that he’d almost let her slip through his fingers, the woman who might just be able to save him.

He wished he could go to her. He wanted more than anything to lie in bed beside her and feel her, warm and breathing.

If he’d finished a few hours earlier, he’d have called her right away. Damn that focus that sometimes made him lose contact with the real world and with time. Now he’d have to wait until morning.

Turning reluctant steps home, he knew he needed to snatch a few hours sleep. Then he’d go to Holly first thing and show her his plans. In truth, he felt a little nervous. What if she hated the idea?

He wouldn’t allow himself even to think that thought. She had to say yes.

“Here,” Luis said, pushing a brimming shooter of tequila at Holly. The bar was noisy and she didn’t even know what she was doing here. She was so stunned and shell-shocked she’d simply gone along with Luis when, after she’d told him the events of the day, he’d packed her up and taken her to a noisy local hangout.

But she held up her hand. “I just wanted to dull the pain, I don’t want to get drunk.”

Luis shook his head, but obligingly knocked back the shooter so she didn’t have to. “Chica,” he said. “There are a few times in your life when getting drunk is the only thing to do. I think when you lose your job and your boyfriend in one day, getting drunk is the right thing.”

“He wasn’t even my boyfriend,” she said glumly, staring into the pint of draft she’d been nursing for over an hour. “We were working together, I was convenient,” she shrugged. “It happened.”

“Do you think, maybe, you’re being too hard on yourself?”

“Why not? Everybody else is.”

He patted her shoulder. “Maudlin self-pity, here we go. And you didn’t even need to get drunk first.”

She smiled, as he’d meant her to, but she seriously felt as though all the times she’d worn herself out to be the best assistant Alistair Rupert ever had had gotten her fired for the first time in her life. And as for Prescott, she could hardly bear to think of him, the man she’d so foolishly fallen in love with. After they’d had that amazing talk when he’d shared the pain of his early memories with her, she’d felt something new between them. Fool that she was, she’d begun to think maybe he might be able to love her after all.

And then he’d gone storming off right when she needed a shoulder to cry on. Well, lean on, anyway.

Even as she was regretting the sleepless nights and the crazy way she’d shackled herself to Alistair Rupert, her phone buzzed. It was the direct line to Rupert himself.

She pulled it out of her bag and glared at it. It was like a small monster forcing her to do things against her will. Well, she was done with that. He no doubt wanted to know where everything was or had some kind of final orders for her.

All her life she’d been responsible. Want something done? Give it to Holly. An impossible deadline? She doesn’t need sleep. She needs approval!

She felt like Alistair Rupert had squeezed every bit of juice out of her and now he was giving the final twist.

She held up the phone. Watched it’s angry blinking eye, and, not even aware she was going to do it until it was too late, she opened her hand and let the phone fall, with a satisfying plop and a splash, right into her mug of beer.

Then she lifted her mug, saluted Luis, who was staring at her as though she might, in fact, be out of her mind, and sipped her beer.

“The buzzing stopped,” she said happily.

Luis laughed, and then he laughed some more. He pushed the beer away and ordered her a fresh one. “You can’t drink that,” he explained. “It’s polluted.”

Her other phone began to buzz. Not wanting to be too much of a drama queen or too destructive of Rupert’s property, she simply turned the phone off. Then, methodically, she took out every device that connected her with Rupert and turned it off.

She couldn’t turn off the past that easily, but disconnecting from the world’s worst boss was a start. Already she felt lighter.

“You know what I am going to do?”

“What?” Luis asked her.

“Nothing.” She tried to imagine what one entirely empty day would feel like and she couldn’t. “I’ve worked so hard my whole life. Two degrees, every crap job a student could hold, student loans like chains around my future and you know where it got me?”

He shook his head, but there was sympathy in every line of his face.

“Fired,” she announced. “And dumped.”

“You deserve so much better.”

She nodded. “I know. And I am going to get it. I’ve had enough of being at other people’s beck and call for a while. I’ve still got some of my bonus left and I think I’m going to take some time. Go away for a few days.”

“There are other jobs.”

She grinned. “Yes. There are.”

“And there are other guys.”

Her sudden humor faded. “Not like Prescott,” she said. Or at least the glimpse of the man she’d seen. The one he could be if he’d let go of his own well-hidden trauma and embrace life in all its connections and messiness.

But she couldn’t worry about that now. She had her own problems to work on. Like what she was going to do for her future. But somehow, the idea of unplugging and getting away for a few days felt bone-deep vital. She felt like she’d been so constantly in touch with everyone who needed her that she’d lost some vital connection with herself. She resolved to find it.

So, after she finished her beer, she and Luis returned to the apartment. She was in her room, packing a few things when she heard Maria arrive. Soon, she and Luis would be living here as newlyweds and Holly was going to have to find a new place.

Well, at least she could now take a job anywhere. She was completely free.

She went to bed early, surprised to find she was sleepy. Too much had happened for the stress to keep her awake for which she was grateful.

She woke at 5:30 which was her normal time when she was working. Knowing she wouldn’t get back to sleep, she decided to make an early start.

By the time she’d made coffee, Luis was up. He yawned as he pushed his hand through his hair so it stood on end. “Who’s going to make me coffee when you go?” he complained.

“You’ll manage.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t even know,” she said, feeling deliciously free. The last time she hadn’t known where she was going was—actually, she couldn’t remember. Probably never.

Luis seemed less thrilled at her lack of destination than she was. “Why don’t you visit my grandparents in Mexico? They’d love to have you.”

“Luis, I feel so guilty about your grandparents. I don’t think Alistair Rupert is going to complete the deal.”

Luis shrugged. “So? He won’t get his deposit back and they’ll sell the house to somebody else. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I feel like I let them down.”

“Well, you didn’t. Go visit them and get a suntan or something.”

“I burn in the sun and thanks, but I feel like I need to be alone for a while. You know?”

He nodded.

When she’d finished her coffee and a quick breakfast, she showered and finished packing. As she got ready to leave, she felt like something really important was missing. She checked her wallet, toothbrush, and then realized it was the missing weight of her computer bag and all her electronics that felt so strange.

“If you need to use my computer, phones, anything, help yourself,” she said to Luis, who was also getting ready to leave. “They’re in my room.”

His jaw dropped. “What? Everything?”

“Yep,” she said, with a hint of pride. She was doing it. She was walking away from the ties that bound her to Alistair Rupert and the rest of the world. She was beginning to think that Prescott Chance, with virtually no electronics in his life, was onto something.

“But what if you need to make a call?”

“I’ll use a phone booth.” She paused as an awful thought struck her. “They do still have phone booths, don’t they?”

“How do I know? I don’t even know how to use one.”

“Well, I’ll figure something out.”

“At least take a phone. What if I need to get hold of you?”

She loved him, she really did. He was a closer brother to her than her flesh-and-blood one off in Germany. She hugged Luis. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“You call. You find one of those pay phones and you call me.”

“I’ll only be gone a few days.” It was all she could afford.

When she got out onto the highway she didn’t even know which way she wanted to go. South toward San Diego? North? East? She had a momentary vision of her driving across the desert, arid air and cactus, nothing around for miles, but then for all her brave words she didn’t want to suffer a breakdown in the middle of nowhere without so much as a cell phone.

She knew where she wanted to go first. She headed north.

It wasn’t far to Point Reyes. She drove her little car down the endless country roads then walked up to the lighthouse. For a long while she watched the water, and let the visitors and tourists flow around her.

After a couple of hours, she walked down one of the hiking trails and found a spot on a rocky bluff overlooking the ocean. She settled her back against stone, breathed deep and let herself be.

After maybe a quarter of an hour she felt twitchy and strange. It was Monday. A work day and here she was watching waves go back and forth. She felt the loss of her phones like a missing limb.

What if someone needed her?

But who needed her? Who?

Rupert had other assistants who could step into any breach she’d left. The way he hired and fired people, everyone was used to jumping midstream into projects they knew nothing about. At some point she’d have to phone her mother and tell her the news, but she thought she’d rather have another job first, or at least a plan, before admitting to her parents that she had been fired.

Maybe Prescott was trying to reach her.

This last one made her fingers actually flex in frustration. Of course Prescott wasn’t going to call. This is for the best, he’d said as he’d walked by her, so anxious to get away from her and the fiasco she’d gotten him into that he hadn’t even said goodbye.

She stayed until hunger drove her into town and she found a bakery café and ordered a sandwich. The place reminded her a little of the Sunflower Bakery and Café, Iris Chance’s place. She wondered how Iris was doing. Would she get married and have her baby? Holly hoped so and sadly thought she’d probably never know. Same with Evan and Caitlyn. Were they enjoying their honeymoon? She was fairly certain they were but had to think of something else before Evan led to Prescott which led to overwhelming sadness, not only for her and what she’d lost, but for him and what could have been.

She finished her sandwich and then got back on the road, eager to be doing something rather than sitting around brooding.

Before she made it to her car she passed a bookstore. A real bookstore with actual paper books. When was the last time she’d read for pleasure? Not the business section of the newspaper or a huge tome on world economics, but an actual book for no other purpose than for fun?

Since she couldn’t remember when that had happened, she pushed her way into the bookstore and browsed.

Browsed. A word that contained no hurry, no have to be there in five minutes or else, no squeezing a rushed task into too few seconds. She had time to wander, to pick up this book, read the back cover, put it back and choose another. Thirty minutes passed and she got the first inkling of a life she’d been missing. She chose two books. One was a mystery/thriller that had great reviews and that the chatty bookseller said she’d loved, the other a family saga set in Ireland. Ireland. That seemed both far away and a place where life was paced a little slower.

She left with her purchases and got back into her car.

Where would you go if you had a week and could do anything? Prescott had asked her. Who’d have believed that she’d have so much free time so soon?

She filled her tank with gas and headed for the Pacific Coast Highway. She drove the winding road, enjoying everything about it. The view, the fact that it was a slower route, the signs pointing out tourist attractions.

By mid-afternoon she felt ready for a break and there was a sign for Carmel by the Sea. She’d never been there so she pulled in, followed the steep road down to the water and parked in a public lot.

Sun sparkled on the waves and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Perfect.

She was sitting on the beach, watching dolphins play out in front of her. She wore a pair of shorts and a tank top, a ball cap and dark glasses and was stretched out on her beach towel with her book, a very large bottle of sunscreen, and a bottle of water and some fruit she’d picked up at the market. Day two and she was already feeling a little less like her space capsule had floated away from the mother ship and she was out in the middle of nowhere. It was good not to be always connected to demanding people. Good to have every minute of every hour her own, to do with as she pleased.

Time seemed to have stretched since she’d set out on her road trip. In the small motel she’d stayed in last night, she’d slept until she woke up naturally. Even with the stress of job loss and the sadness over Prestcott, she was aware of an underlying sense of peacefulness. She wondered how she’d let herself get so far out of control?

Even as her withdrawal from electronics continued, she’d purchased a cheap, lined pad of paper and dug out a pen from her purse and spent the evening working on a business plan to become a wedding planner. She had lists of people to contact, ideas, some partnership possibilities, and her enthusiasm as well as her confidence began to grow. Maybe working for Alistair Rupert had been unrelenting, but she’d gained a lot of confidence and some skills in juggling a million things at once, keeping difficult people happy and working miracles. She had a strong feeling all those skills would be very necessary in a wedding planner.

She’d give herself one more day, she thought, as she went back to her book. Maybe two. Then she’d head back and start creating her new life.

As she breathed in the sweet sea air, she knew she was going to be just fine.

It was maybe half an hour later, as she was munching on an apple and wishing that romance could be as easy for her as it was for the country girl in County Cork, when a shadow fell over her. Normally, as people paused looking for a good spot to hunker down, the shadow moved quickly.

This one didn’t move at all.

She turned her head, curious, and everything inside her went still.