The passengers on the red-eye were placid, and the flight went without a hitch. The plane was nearly full, which was somewhat unusual but a good sign for the airline. Most of the passengers were families on summer vacations.
Dirk, the flight attendant whom Shelly shared the shift with, was overly cheerful and seemed a little too eager to welcome her on his usual flight. Shelly ignored his attempts at flirting and went about her job. She liked being on the longer flight. It was good to feel busy.
Not until about halfway through the return trip did she start to feel tired. She had stayed on the ground at the hotel the required eighteen hours and had managed to catch almost six hours of sleep, but now she was feeling rundown.
While the movie played, Shelly sat in the pull-down seat nearest the porthole in the back door. They were flying above the clouds, somewhere over Idaho, she guessed. She leaned over and contentedly gazed at the endless field of white fluff that spread out before them. This was the part of flying she loved most—the clouds. Always changing. So peaceful and beautiful. They reminded her of a meadow of freshly fallen snow. Only in a meadow, someone could walk through and leave footprints in the perfect snow. No one could walk through the clouds. No human could mar their perfection.
She remembered the first time she had decided she loved clouds. She had been with Jonathan in the tree house. They must have been close to twelve years old. Her poetic side was just beginning to sprout its wings. She was perched on the strong branch that jutted out of the top of the tree house, and Jonathan was busy with a hammer repairing the boards that had warped during the spring rains. Shelly had been watching the clouds perform their lazy May dance through the bright green leaves. “They’re like a field of cotton stuffing,” she said. “And no one can make them come or go.”
“Are you going to help me or not?” Jonathan said.
Shelly ignored him and lingered on the branch, feeding her newly born poetic self by trying to describe the clouds in as many ways as she could.
That night, Shelly’s older sisters had sat her down and given her a lecture about playing in the woods with Jonathan. They said if Mom and Dad didn’t see the danger in it, they certainly did. At twelve, Shelly was too old to act like a tomboy. She needed to know that being alone with Jonathan was only giving him an invitation to kiss her.
The thought shocked Shelly. Kissing Jonathan would be like kissing her brother. Why would she do that? He wouldn’t think of kissing her, either. She was sure of it.
As it was, nearly four years after the lecture Shelly began to think seriously about kissing a guy. She didn’t know when Jonathan started to think about kissing her. It might have been when they were twelve. Or when they were seventeen and went for their hand-holding walk around the block. But he didn’t act on it until he was eighteen.
“Shelly?” Dirk reached over and shook her shoulder. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, sorry. I must have dozed off. Sure. Is the beverage cart ready, or do you want me to finish loading it?”
“It’s all set.”
Shelly rose and followed Dirk down the aisle, still trying to adjust her thoughts to catch up to the task at hand. “Something to drink for you?” she asked the passengers in the first row. Shelly began the familiar motions of pouring beverages and delivering them to the passengers with a smile. From then on everything was routine.
The flight landed at eleven-thirty in the morning, right on time. Shelly drove to her parents’ home in light traffic, which was a nice change. She couldn’t wait to take a hot bath and sleep.
Mom had left a note on her bed. “Call the church immediately.” Shelly complied, and when the secretary answered, she said, “Oh, Shelly, your parents have been so worried about you. Are you okay?”
“Yes, why?”
“Your father’s right here.” The secretary put him on the phone.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Where have you been?”
“I got a call to take a red-eye to Philadelphia a couple of days ago. I just got back.”
He was silent for a moment. “Your mother and I didn’t know where you were.”
“I work,” Shelly said cautiously. “This is how my schedule goes sometimes. Mom knew I received a call from the airline. She called me at Meri’s a couple of days ago.”
“Meri’s been gone, too,” Dad said. “Or not answering her phone. We were concerned, that’s all.”
Shelly felt her life being pinched. It was bad enough to be home, trying to overlap her routine and habits with her parents’, but for her parents to check on her like this was frustrating. For five years she had come and gone as she pleased at all hours of the day. Living at home with Mom and Dad was not going to work.
“I’ll check on Meri,” Shelly said. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. She’s been busy packing.”
“As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters. I’ll let your mother know.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks, Dad.” Shelly hung up and gave Meredith a call at work.
“Mom and Dad were worried about us,” Shelly said when her sister came on the line. “Can you believe that? Are they like this all the time?”
“It goes in spurts,” Meredith said. “Sometimes for a couple of weeks I don’t hear from them. Then, all of a sudden, they decide they have to know exactly where I am and what I’m doing. I knew Mom called yesterday, or was it the day before? Anyway, with packing and finishing up everything at work, I haven’t been returning my calls.”
“When is your last day at work?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Are you excited about your new job?”
“I feel like Cinderella,” Meri said. “This is a huge leap for me. And getting into the lake cottage at the same time—I feel as if I’m dreaming.”
“Meri,” Shelly said cautiously. She hadn’t planned out her words yet, but the thought had hedged its way into her mind when she first heard Meri was moving into the Tulip Cottage. “How would you feel about a roommate?”
There was a pause.
“You don’t have to answer right away. Just think about it. I would hardly be there; so I don’t think I’d be in your way or anything.”
Shelly wished she hadn’t mentioned the possibility. She felt strange asking her sister for a favor. Meri had always been the one who asked Shelly to bail her out.
“I can’t believe you’re asking me,” Meri said. “I kept wanting to suggest that you move in with me, but I thought you would think I was trying to run your life or something.”
“Why would you think that?”
“You’ve never needed anything from me. It felt strange being the one in the position to give you something. Remember last May when I was going to send you that cookbook I found at The Elliott Bay Book Company? It was called A World of Favorite Cookie Recipes, and I was so excited about it because I knew how much you loved to bake.”
Shelly vaguely remembered.
“I called you all jazzed about it,” Meredith said. “And you said you already had it.”
“So?” Shelly couldn’t figure out where this was leading.
“So, you always have everything. When we were growing up, you had all the right clothes. You had all the right ideas. You had all the answers to everything. I’m not trying to be mean, but you don’t need anyone or anything. I decided when I called you and you said you already had the cookie book that that was the last time I was going to try to give you anything. I know you don’t intend to, but, Shelly, you push people away.”
Shelly didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t get mad.”
“I’m not mad,” Shelly said. “I’m trying to figure out what you’re telling me.”
“Maybe I’m saying it too powerfully. I think I’m the one with the hormone rush today. Or maybe it’s all this stress. Anyway, all I’m trying to say is, I want into your life. I’d love to have you live with me at the lake. I’m just asking that you want me to be in your life, too.” Meredith drew in a deep breath, then kept talking before Shelly had a chance to respond. “I felt things were really improving between you and me the other day. Do you realize that was the first time we have ever talked seriously about Jonathan?”
“Is this a yes?” Shelly asked. She wasn’t comfortable with this sudden evaluation from her sister. She had always thought they had a terrific relationship and had never seen herself as holding back.
“Yes,” Meredith said firmly. “Yes, I want you to move in with me, and yes, I want you to keep letting me into your life. Is it a deal?”
“It’s a deal. When do you move?”
“This weekend. You scheduled to fly then?”
“No, not yet. If I don’t get called, I’ll move in with you on Saturday.”
“Good.” Meredith let out a sigh. It was a happy sigh. “This is going to be great. I have the rent covered the first few months, so why don’t you plan to start paying your half when we hit November.”
“You sure that would work out?”
“Yes. I wasn’t planning on sharing the rent. I have the bucks this time. Maybe you’ll end up carrying me for a couple of months another time.”
“Thanks, Meredith. I really appreciate this.”
“Are you kidding? I’m the one who’s excited. You don’t know how long I’ve hoped we could be sisters again like this.”
After Shelly hung up, she headed for the bath she had been promising herself. Soaking up to her chin, she thought over her sister’s words. What did Meri mean about hoping they could be sisters again?
Shelly realized her crazy, come-and-go schedule had made it hard for her to keep track of things over the past five years. She had missed more than one family member’s birthday because of her flight schedule. Sometimes she didn’t even know what day it was. Her move to Seattle was supposed to bring some stability. And maybe it would, eventually.
The move to Whidbey Island would do her good, and she felt certain the hour commute by ferry wouldn’t bother her. It was a small price to pay for the luxury of living in such natural beauty.
It was funny, but Jonathan had always said he wanted to live on one of the islands. At a camp. Shelly smiled to herself. How strange that my life is turning out to be a fulfillment of Jonathan’s dreams. I’m going to live on an island, right next to a camp. I never would have guessed it.
As the steaming water ministered to her tired frame, Shelly allowed herself the luxury of sinking deeper than ever into her thoughts of Jonathan. Why have I been so obsessed with him lately? It’s not as if I’ve never thought about him since I left. But he always seemed so removed, so permanently gone from my life. Here, he’s real. Ever present. Jonathan Renfield is so tightly woven into the fabric of my past that I can’t have a future here without constantly being confronted with his memory. It’s probably a good thing I’m moving out of this house and starting fresh on Whidbey. I have only one memory of Jonathan from that island, and that memory …
Shelly could feel the battle break out inside her heart. One side defended her right to never recall that night, the other side charged into her emotions, waving the glittering memories and shouting at Shelly, “Remember! Let yourself remember!”
She gave in.
Pressing the hot-water faucet with her toes, Shelly invited more warm water into her chilling tub. With the flow of bath water came the tandem flow of her long-stopped-up memories of that starlit night on Whidbey Island.
Exactly one week after they both graduated from high school, they had summer jobs. They had been officially dating ever since the night of Meredith’s flute recital and their hand-holding walk around the block. That was February; this was the middle of June. They hadn’t fought once. They held hands every time they were together. Everyone thought they were “cute.” When they kissed, it was as if the world around them turned into a spring garden, and the fragrance of that garden lingered on their lips long after the kiss ended.
Shelly closed her eyes and remembered Jonathan’s kisses. Oh, man, could he kiss. Even their very first kiss had been tender, sweet, and not at all awkward. He didn’t first kiss her in the tree house, as her older sisters had warned. It was at the front door after their first official date to the movies. Unlike their videotaped kiss as toddlers, this kiss was right on target.
The kiss took Shelly’s breath for a moment and then returned it. Only it wasn’t the breath she had breathed all her life. Jonathan’s kiss had filled her lungs with a fresh hope. For weeks afterward, she found herself daydreaming about Jonathan, drawing in deep draughts of air and holding her breath, remembering the sensation of their first kiss.
In Shelly’s estimation, it was in every way the perfect first kiss. It was the first kiss for both of them, and because they knew it, they treasured the gift even more. And like fine treasure, they gave their kisses to each other sparingly, neither of them willing to hurry the other. Their love, this pristine first love, was far more than “cute.” To Shelly it was sacred. Perhaps that’s why it had frightened her so and caused her to do what she did.