Journey, The (21 page)

Shelly took the card and opened it. Cupid was on the front with a quiver of arrows. She smiled slightly when she read the message and kissed Scott lightly on the lips.

"Thank you. I have a card for you in the house. Let me get it."

Scott grabbed Shelly's arm.

"No. Stay here. The card can wait. You can give it to me tomorrow or next week. I don't care. I just want to make sure you're all right."

"I'm fine. It's my future that's a wreck."

"Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic?"

"No. I do not. This is a big deal, Scott, a very big deal. Do you know how lucky I was to even be accepted? There are more qualified people in our senior class. There are more qualified people on this
street
. This was my chance to get out of Unionville and do something big. I don't want to settle – not if I don't have to."

"Who's settling? So you stay in state. You can still write. You can still do big things. We can both do big things," he said. "OSU is not so bad."

"What makes you think I would go to Corvallis? I got into Oregon, too, and there are more opportunities there for liberal arts majors."

"Why
wouldn't
you go to Corvallis? Unless the real reason you wanted to go back East was to get away from me. Is that what this is about?"

"No, Scott, that's not what it's all about. Believe it our not, I really am driven by academics. But since you raised the subject, what's the problem with Eugene? It is forty freaking miles away. We could still see each other on weekends. Is that not good enough? Or do you have to have me under your watch twenty-four hours a day?"

"Shelly, calm down. I'm not saying you can't go to Oregon. I'm saying I'd rather see you go to Oregon State."

"Well, I'm really glad you're not telling me I can't go to Oregon. I'd hate to think what I'd do if you put your foot down."

"Shelly, be reasonable."

"I'm tired of being reasonable, Scott! I'm tired of people telling me what I can or can't do. It's my life. I have a say in it too."

"Shelly . . ."

"No, Scott. Don't say a thing. Not another word."

Shelly glared at him and held up a hand.

"I can't talk anymore."

She stepped toward the door.

"Good night."

CHAPTER 39: SHELLY

Monday, February 18, 1980

Shelly had never thought of the attendance office as a place to escape her troubles, but she did as she walked toward the tiny chamber on her lunch break. She had not seen Michelle Jennings in several days and was eager to reconnect with someone who created joy in her life and not consternation.

"I've been bad," she said as she approached the window with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry I haven't taken the time to see you lately."

"That's quite all right, Shelly. You have a life and I don't," Michelle said.

Shelly wagged a finger.

"Now, that's not true. Not anymore. I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you. I'm happy for me too."

Shelly laughed.

"So are you still getting married in April?"

"That's the plan," Michelle said as she pushed some papers to the side and gave Shelly her undivided attention. "Robert wants his daughters to be there. I want
you
to be there too."

"You can count on it, particularly if it gets me out of school for a day."

"I can't help you with that. April 12 is a Saturday. But if you're ever in a pinch, you know where to come to fix your tickets."

Shelly chuckled. The woman had an elephant's memory.

"You don't forget a thing."

"No, I do not."

Shelly glanced at a clock on the wall behind Michelle and saw she still had ten minutes before the next bell. She wished she had more. She never tired of these discussions.

"Are you planning to get married in the church?"

"Yes. But it will be a small affair, maybe a dozen or so people."

"What about a honeymoon?"

"It looks like Hawaii in June."

"Take me with you. I promise to be good."

Michelle smiled.

"I'll throw it past Robert, but I wouldn't pack your bags just yet."

Another student approached the office window and handed Michelle a note and a sob story about missing third period. She signed the slip and sent the boy on his way.

"Speaking of packing bags, are you getting ready for Yale?"

"That's looking pretty iffy right now. I didn't get the big scholarship and now I have to find at least five thousand dollars a year to go."

"Didn't you get any other financial aid?"

"I got a thousand-dollar scholarship and a grant, but they won't get me even halfway there. If I want to go to Yale, I'm going to have to go into serious debt."

"What do your folks think?"

"Dad wants to help but can't. Mom wants to help but won't. She sees nothing wrong with Oregon and Oregon State. If they're good enough for my siblings and half the senior class, then they are good enough for Shelly Preston."

"What do
you
think?"

"I think I'm screwed. I want to go to Yale. I go crazy just thinking about it. Every time I see my acceptance letter I see a brass ring. I see a chance to get out of this Podunk town and get a world-class education. But my mom has a point. Twenty thousand is serious change. I don't have that kind of money, and I'm not sure I want to go into debt. Thankfully, I've got several more weeks to think about it. I'm going to take every day."

"You do that."

Shelly started to bring up another topic when she glanced to her right and saw Nick Bender lean against the wall a few feet away. He wore the patient smile of a man who wasn't planning to leave until he had received his audience. Shelly returned to Michelle.

"Can we talk after school?"

"I'd like that. I should probably get back to work anyway."

"OK. I'll see you then."

"Bye."

Shelly waved at Michelle and then drifted over to the patient Mr. Bender, who wore the same shirt and pants he had worn to the "Welcome to the Eighties" dance. A loosened tie hung around his neck. She had spoken to him only twice since that night but didn't need Johnny Carson's Carnac the Magnificent to know what he wanted.

"Hi, Nick. Did you dress up just for me?"

"If I said yes, would you believe me?"

"No."

Nick laughed.

"OK. I'll fess up. Today is retake day for senior pictures."

"That's right. You still look nice."

"Thanks. But I didn't come here to fish for compliments. I came here to ask you out."

"I'm flattered, Nick, but we've been over this. You know I'm still dating Scott."

"I also know you had another fight last week. Look, Shelly, all I want is one date. It doesn't have to be anything special. If you don't want me around after that, I'll leave you alone."

Shelly saw both risk and potential reward. She didn't want another boyfriend, but she didn't want to continue down the same road with Scott either. He would have to accept that she was free to date others sooner or later and if sooner was better, then sooner it would be.

"I'll tell you what. Let's go bowling Saturday. Scott will be at the state high school science competition. We'll go as friends. If you can agree to that, I promise to keep an open mind about going out again. But that's the best I can do. My life is way too complicated right now."

"You've got a date, gorgeous."

"A
friendly
date, Nick. Nothing more. I'll meet you there at eight."

CHAPTER 40: MICHELLE

Friday, February 22, 1980

Michelle looked at Jerry Nelson and saw a teacher, a hunter, and a man her fiancé called his best friend. She also saw a handsome, graying man who asked a lot of questions, a man who made her slightly uncomfortable. She studied him closely as she listened to manly banter and worked on what was left of her Caesar salad at the Bull Rider.

"So how were the roads?" Robert asked as he looked up from his plate.

"They were bare and dry, for the most part. We hit some ice over Snoqualmie and a little slush near Ellensburg, but that was it. I hope it stays that way."

"You're continuing to La Grande tonight?"

"We don't have a choice," Jerry said. He leaned back and put an arm around his wife. "My brother is hosting a breakfast at eight and insists that we be there. The last thing I want to do is ruffle his feathers on Julie's big day."

"When is your niece's wedding?" Michelle asked.

"It's at four. Why she picked February is beyond me. She could have had the ranch in June, when the weather's glorious. But you know how kids are."

"So tell me about you two," Janet Nelson said, mostly to Michelle. "How did you meet? How long have you been dating?"

"We met the first day of school and started dating a few weeks later, right before the big hunting trip. Robert caught me impersonating a teacher in his classroom and decided that was reason enough to ask me out."

Robert smiled.

"Is that so?" Jerry asked.

"It is. As a matter of fact, he asked me out by asking me a story problem."

Jerry laughed.

"I hadn't heard that. You haven't changed," Jerry said to his former roommate. He turned to Michelle. "He was that way with Linda too – all business. Then again, why court someone with poems and flowers when you can do it with algebra?"

"Oh, stop it," Janet said. She elbowed her husband and then looked at Robert. "I think it's very romantic. What matters is that you both found each other. I'm glad to see you move on, Robert. You look good. You look happy."

"I am, Janet."

Michelle put a hand on Robert's back and patted it as a waiter stopped by their table and filled four glasses of wine. He picked up their salad plates and headed back to the kitchen, passing three unoccupied tables along the way.

The waiter returned ten minutes later with heated plates of prime rib, baked potatoes, and broccoli. Michelle Jennings, health food nut, dug right in. But it wasn't long before she lifted her eyes from the main course and again took note of her surroundings.

"I see a lot of empty chairs," Michelle said. "Is there a basketball game tonight?"

"There is, but it's on the road. The boys are playing in Ontario," Robert said. "The reason this place is so dead is because everyone is at home watching the Olympics. Tonight is Team USA's semifinal with Russia."

"That's right," Jerry said. "I wish we could stick around to see that. I'd much rather crack a few cold ones at your place and watch the game than get back on the road. Of course, I don't think it will be much of a game."

"What do you mean?" Janet asked.

"I mean that the Soviets are a bunch of military types who have played hockey together for years. They're the best in the world. Our guys are pretty good for an Olympic squad, but they're college kids. There's only one player back from the seventy-six team."

Michelle laughed to herself as she thought about how times had changed. In 2010 Robert and Jerry would be watching the game on an overhead flat-screen TV and texting updates to their buddies on smart phones. The world in 1980 was definitely a slower, less digital place.

"That doesn't mean they can't win, Jerry. The Olympics are here this year. They'll have the crowd behind them. I think their chances are good," Janet said.

"I love your optimism, dear," Jerry said, "but I'm afraid it's misplaced. Our boys are going to get slaughtered. We can still get the bronze though."

Michelle smiled. She followed American hockey as closely as she followed Bulgarian rugby, but she didn't need to search her memory to know what was going down in Lake Placid. Like the Iranian hostage crisis and the eruption of Mount St. Helens, Team USA's 4-3 victory over the Soviet Union at the Winter Olympics was a defining moment of her senior year.

"I think Janet's right. Our boys have an excellent chance. In fact, I predict that they will win tonight and go on to take the gold medal."

"You do, huh?" Jerry asked. "Would you care to make a wager on that prediction?"

"Knock it off, Jerry," Janet said. "You don't need to bet to make your point."

"I don't mind," Michelle said. "I'll tell you what. If the Russians win tonight, I'll pick up the tab for dinner when you return in April for our wedding. If the U.S. wins, then you will."

"We have a deal," Jerry said as he shook Michelle's hand across the table.

"I'd be careful, Jerry. My fiancée is something of a Nostradamus."

"I guess we'll find out soon enough. I hope you're right, Michelle. I'd love to see an upset, but I think it's going to be a long night for Team USA. Can I pick the restaurant now?"

"Jerry!"

Janet glared at Jerry and shook her head.

"You'll have to excuse my husband. He gets this way every time a discussion turns to sports," she said to Michelle. "Maybe we should talk about something else."

"I'm game," Michelle said. "What else can we talk about?"

"Let's talk about you. Our dear friend here tends to keep to himself. He hasn't told us much about the future Mrs. Land. Perhaps you can fill in the blanks."

"What would you like to know?"

"Oh, I don't know. Let's start with your background. Where did you grow up? What did you do as a child? Do you have siblings? You know, the usual stuff busybodies like me have to know."

Michelle laughed. She thought the comment was funny but felt slightly uneasy answering the questions. There was a lot to remember when you lived a lie.

"As you probably know, I came here from the Seattle area. My dad was a barber. My mom stayed at home to raise four kids, including my older brothers and sister. I played the clarinet in high school and worked in a bowling alley and . . . let's see . . . I had a dog named Spot."

"Spot?"

"Spot. I'm not kidding."

"What did I tell you?" Robert said to the Nelsons. "She's an American original."

Jerry picked up a cloth napkin, wiped his mouth, and placed it on his plate.

"Robert tells me that you lived in Bellevue," he said. "You wouldn't by any chance be related to a Bartholomew Jennings, would you?"