A Small Town Dream (24 page)

“Well, that just means you have to go see him in person. Where is it again that he lives?” Paul feigned a stumped look. “Some place called…?” He waved and left Annie alone in the hot tub.
The party went on. She watched as if it were some kind of TV show.

After some time, when people had gathered around the grill, and Paul was serving food, Annie got out of the tub, and still wet, slipped into her skirt and blouse. Then she picked up her shoes and walked home. In spite of her damp clothes and the cool autumn night, she didn’t feel cold at all.

***

“How was your evening,” her mother asked when Annie stepped into the kitchen half an hour later.

“Unexpected and wonderful,” Annie said and sat at the table with her mother.

“You’re wet,” her mother observed.

“I got some advice in a hot tub,” Annie said, then kissed her mother on the top of the head. “Could I borrow the car, please?”

“Why?”

“I need to go rent a movie.”

“Which one?”

“
Sleepless in Seattle
.” Annie’s mother threw back her head and belly-laughed. “You know that one, Mom?”

“We own it, honey.” Annie couldn’t believe it. Her mother got up and ruffled her daughter’s wet hair.

“You go change into something dry, I’ll make popcorn, and then you and I, daughter dear, are going to look for
signs
.”

Her father didn’t understand, didn’t even try to.

In front of her father, her mother pretended she didn’t but in her heart, she supported Annie more than she ever had. Her father refused to see her off, so her mother packed a basket of food along with hugs, wishes for luck, prayers for her safety, and pleas for her swift and safe return.

Annie moved through Monday morning like a woman at the edge of the horizon, distant and fuzzy. The night before, she packed, but had no real idea what to take. Dean had said Seattle was rainy. The online weather map corroborated that information, so she packed for rain. And she packed light, wanting to be able to move easily and quickly without the help of a porter or a cab driver or... a stranger.

Dean had still not answered her calls or messages. But Paul’s words,
maybe you need to see him in person
, kept her going in spite of all the reasons—good reasons—she shouldn’t.

After the party Saturday night, after watching
Sleepless in Seattle
with her mother, Annie had called Dean again, but again, straight to voice mail. This time she hung up without leaving a message. Sunday morning came, and Annie was genuinely tired, still unsure. But she sat down to breakfast with her parents and told them that, the following morning, she was going to get on a train, go to Seattle and find Dean.

Her father exploded with questions. Did this Dean guy touch her? Was she pregnant? Did he molest her?

Annie did her best to ease his mind, answer his questions. But when he asked why she was going to see Dean if he had not returned her calls, or answered when the phone rang, she had no answers and silence hung over the breakfast table. This silence prompted her father to declare the whole thing ridiculous, unbelievable, absurd and to inform her that he would have no part of it.

But later, after supper that night, he knocked on her door, reiterated his displeasure but gave her five crisp hundred dollar bills.
“In case you get stuck,” he said, looking at the floor.

She protested, assuring him that she had saved up a lot of money working all through school and the summers as well. She had been good with her money and was going to be fine. But her father, a man not known to hug or be affectionate in any way, needed to express his love and concern somehow and so, the money would have to do the job. So after a few minutes of back and forth, she understood and accepted the money with thanks and a hug. He returned the hug awkwardly and then escaped from her room. Annie sat on her bed, looked at the money and, for one second, almost changed her mind.

But then she pulled her suitcase from the back of the closet and started the process of packing, unpacking, deciding, and finally, after several hours, deep into the night, she zipped the bag shut, placed it by the door, went online again and bought a ticket.

Again, travel by train seemed safer. It would also give her time to plan, although that hadn’t done her much good the last time she was on a train, heading to the state prison to see...
that one
.

In the morning, they all had breakfast together. They were quiet, the sounds of forks on plates, sips from cups, chewing, swallowing, all took the place of the usual, comfortable morning conversation. Annie felt the distance growing, it almost choked her.

Without being prompted or questioned, when she had finished her eggs, she said to her parents,
“I have to.” They looked at her, had no response. “I just have to,” she repeated and then went to her room, gathered her things and stood outside by the car waiting for her mother.

She saw her father standing, looking out of one of the front windows as they pulled out of the driveway. She didn’t wave. She allowed him the illusion that he was unseen.

On the drive to the train station, she and her mother avoided the topic at hand. Her mother filled her in on some of the local gossip. Annie responded and laughed along at the funny anecdotes. The drive wasn’t that long, but their conversation dried up after a few blocks and silence held the rest of the journey. Then as they pulled into the train station her mother spoke.

“Your father is seven years my senior,” she said. Annie barely registered it, suddenly faced with the reality of her choice, so they parked and her mother walked her inside.

They stood by the gate and waited. Annie checked and rechecked her ticket, her bag. Her mother watched her with the sad eyes of a parent realizing they have done all they could and fearing it was not enough.

“Tell me not to go,” Annie said suddenly and her mother was shocked. “Tell me this is dumb. He hasn’t called back. He hasn’t answered. Tell me I am being a foolish little girl and that I should stay here, go to work, or go to school in Davenport and live the life that I had always said I wanted. Tell me I am being stupid, Mom, tell me...
something
.”

Her mother reached out a hand and picked a bit of lint off her daughter’s blouse. She smiled warm and wistful.

“I can’t do that, honey, fact is, the day that Parker Levitt killed Connie Baker was the day the life you always wanted ended. You’re not the same. Nothing is. That’s the truth.” Annie watched her mother closely. “We are all working very hard to pretend that nothing is changed, that the incident was isolated and that it doesn’t affect anyone but the ones involved, but that’s just not true. We are all very different now and yet, no one seems to want to accept or admit that.” Her mother stroked Annie’s hair. “Do I think what you’re doing is crazy? Maybe a little. But, honey, I think that it’s a perfect response to what you’ve experienced. I think that staying here, pretending everything is fine and normal and exactly the same is even crazier.” Her mother pulled Annie into a hug and Annie didn’t resist.

“You’re only going to Seattle,” her mother continued, “so you can find your way back. You know what’s here. Go where you
don’t
know. Go where you can start a new life or at least get a better idea of what you may or may not want. You can’t do that here in Rockland, not anymore, so I will not tell you to stay, but do you want to know the real reason why?” Annie nodded. Her mother put her face very close to Annie’s ear and whispered, “Just between us girls, part of me wants to go with you.”

Annie squeezed her mother tight and her mother laughed with such love and joy that several people in the station looked at them and smiled.

“Go, my girl, go and have an adventure, find love, shake off this town and find out who you are.”

Annie’s train was called to board and she hugged her mother one more time. They said good-bye, shedding tears and then, Annie was in her seat on the train, looking out the window, watching the rest of the passengers board, say their good-byes with tears and hugs and laughter.

As the train pulled out of the station, Annie saw her mother looking small, lost and alone.
That’s me
, Annie though.
If I stay here, that’s me. I will grow small, lost, alone, and one day, it will be too late to change anything.
She kissed her fingertips and pressed them on the window, toward her mother, who saw and waved. Then Annie turned from the window, looked forward, took a breath and set about mentally preparing for the unknown.

The train moved slowly and she saw the familiar turn to the unfamiliar right outside her window. She found herself thinking,
I didn’t know that was there, so close to home
, many times before the train picked up speed and flew her on steel rails past county lines, city streets and state boundaries.

All too soon she was...
leaving
.

Rain. He had been right. The rain reigned. The sky was gray. The world seemed hunched and covered by umbrellas and slickers of black, yellow, orange, all shining with the days of rain.

She was surprised as she stepped from the station that the rain didn’t seem to trouble people. They smiled, they talked in light voices. The weather was not a burden but an accepted way of life. She too, found herself unfazed by the rain. Usually, a rainy summer day would sink her heart, make her sad about all the things she wouldn’t be able to do. Now, here in a new city, she felt only that all was possible. She stepped to the curb and raised her arm. A cab pulled up immediately, and the driver got out. He opened the trunk and put her bag inside.

“Day’s Inn, downtown,” she said, having practiced it on the journey, making herself sound confident. He nodded, checked the rearview mirror and pulled out into traffic. She wanted to look up, gawk at the tall buildings, the people flooding the streets, pouring from doors but, she didn’t want to seem like a tourist.

She checked into her room, paying for a week’s stay. She had a coupon she found online. A week, she reasoned, should be enough time to find Dean, talk to him, figure out what she wanted, what he wanted and then...go home.

She unpacked, putting things in drawers, setting her toiletries up in the bathroom. When she was done and was settled, she sat on the bed and looked at Dean’s business card again. She picked up her cell phone and dialed the number. Again, voice mail, but she left a message.

“I am…
on the road
,” she said and chuckled. “No, actually, I am in a hotel room, in Seattle,
your
city. I just arrived, it’s a few minutes before eleven, so if you have any suggestions about what I should see while I’m here, you know, call me and let me know.” She paused not knowing what to say next. “I’m not really here to see sights, Dean. I’m here because—” The electronic voice cut her off.

“Your message has been recorded.”

She hung up and sat with the phone on her lap. She looked out the window, and the city seemed somewhat unreal to her but still very inviting. She called home, told them she had arrived and that she was fine. She gave her mother a rundown on the cleanliness and safety of the room. She was right downtown, where it was well-lit, and people were everywhere. This reassured her mother slightly. Her father would not get on the phone but shouted
hello
to her in the background. When she hung up, she felt a loneliness heavy as a wet winter coat.

She showered, washed the journey off her body, dressed and ventured out into the city. She wasn’t going to wait for Dean to call. He
would
call, she was sure, but she didn’t want to waste her time—her first time away from home—sitting in a room being sad. She was on an adventure.

So she closed the door behind her, checked to be sure it was locked, checked to be sure she had the key—a plastic card—and finally, satisfied she had done all of that right, Annie headed out into the city. Alone.