So I just realized I haven't updated since July. This is awful. Especially considering it's nearly October. I predict two chapters after this… or, if it becomes necessary, one long, super-chapter. I'm not sure yet. I do have a couple pages written already, though. I'm glad this is finishing, actually, because this is a busy busy fall for me. Wish me luck with all of my college applications.
Read, and enjoy. And don't forget to review!
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The next several days were spent in near silence, with Paul, Jesse, and I all brooding and contemplating Dr. Slaski's advice. I had feared running out of money to pay for the hotel, but Paul managed to chat up the girl at the front desk and get us a Senior Citizen discount, which gave us another week and a half before our cash ran out. We stayed mostly in our hotel room, reading the library books, taking notes, or just sitting there thinking. I was still feeling moody and depressed and homesick, and the constant bickering between Jesse and Paul was grating on my nerves. I'd already had two more breakdowns since the one outside of Dr. Slaski's house, though they were in privacy, without anyone to see me or comfort me. Nearly a week passed before any of us saw Dom or Marilyn again, so I assumed all was well. Or at least better for them than it was for us.
Paul, Jesse, and I went to a grocery store to buy some food. We were beginning to run low on cash, after paying some of our room bill, and couldn't afford to eat out every day. Jesse was holding the basket, like a gentleman, as I deposited whatever I thought we could survive on for the next week—since it seemed unlikely we'd find our way home before Dr. Slaski's deadline. Peanut butter, jelly, a loaf of bread, a couple of apples, a jug of milk…
"What are you going to do, Suze, pack us lunch before we go off to Miss Honey's fourth grade class?" Paul muttered, and I shot him a venomous glance.
"Listen to me, Paul," I said through gritted teeth, "I'm trying to keep us fed and alive until your grandfather can send us home. I'm sorry if you don't like peanut butter and jelly, but if you have an extra twenty bucks hidden away, go ahead. Go buy your own food, and Jesse and I will eat sandwiches for the next fucking week."
"Susannah!" Jesse said, a bit surprised. I guess he had a right. I don't usually swear, or get this emotional, and I was on a crash course for break down number four in one week. This has got to be some sort of record—and I couldn't even use hormones as an excuse.
"Sorry," I muttered, then began walking away.
"Susannah?" At the sound of my name, I turned, and saw Marilyn walking with a middle aged woman in a neat navy pencil skirt and a white, starched button-down shirt.
"Hi, Marilyn," I said, feigning cheeriness.
"Hello, Susannah," she said. "This is my mother."
"Hello," I said cheerfully. "Susannah Simon," I introduced myself, and shook her hand. She looked a little affronted, but was very polite.
"How do you do, Susannah? I've heard quite a bit about you from my Marilyn." Jesse and Paul then came up, both of them trying to look friendly—Jesse was more successful than Paul.
"Oh, Mother, this is Susannah's brother, Paul-" What? Oh. Right. "-and her friend Jesse."
Mrs. Edwards looked slightly less than enthusiastic with these two young, strapping males making acquaintances with her impressionable daughter.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Jesse said, smiling politely.
"Are you from around here?" Mrs. Edwards asked. "I've never seen any of you before."
"We're visiting colleges," I said, suddenly recalling the story we told Marilyn a week ago. "Paul is looking to go to St. Francis'. With his friend, Dominic." Suddenly her face darkened, and Marilyn looked sort of miserable.
"Oh, so you're friends with that boy?" she asked coldly, and Paul, Jesse, and I all exchanged looks.
"Mother," Marilyn said plaintively.
"Alright, alright, I'll go look for what I need on the other side of the store. But I'll be back in a moment." With that, she walked away.
"What's going on?" I asked Marilyn, and she sighed.
"Dominic and I have been spending some time together. We met after school the other day," she explained, "and then he brought me home afterward, and my mom got really upset. She thinks he's too old for me, and that he showed a lot of disrespect for not formally asking her to 'court' me. She won't listen that we're not at that point, that all we did was go to get milkshakes—with two of his friends and my friend Barbara, too. We're hardly going steady. But then I told him, so he thought it would be a good idea to come and meet her… and it was just a disaster. When he was leaving to come to my house, his car wouldn't start, so he had to walk up to my house, and then it started to rain. So when he did show up, he was wet and disheveled and late. And there is nothing my mom appreciates more than timeliness and neatness. And it just went downhill from there. My mother disagreed with everything he said, and, of all the odds, his mother works for the company that fired my dad 20 years ago."
"Ouch," Paul muttered.
"That's not fair," I said, feeling personally offended for Father D. "You can't not like someone for his mother's connection to something she likely had nothing to do with." Marilyn sighed.
"I know."
"Have you tried talking to her?" Jesse asked. "Explaining this to her?" She looked contemplative.
"A little bit, I suppose. I haven't really tried to argue with her."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because my mother and I don't argue," Marilyn said simply. "We don't have that kind of relationship."
"Would she be receptive to Dominic trying to talk to her?" Jesse asked. Paul looked thoughtful, and remained silent.
"I think he's afraid," she confided, shifting the grocery basket from one arm to the other. "He doesn't know what to say. How can you explain to your friend's mother that the reason she doesn't like him isn't valid, without telling her she's wrong?"
"He doesn't necessarily have to apologize or tell her she's wrong," Paul said, breaking his silence. "Tell him to come by, and tell your mother that they got off on the wrong foot, and have him explain how much he cares for you and he wouldn't dream of hurting you."
"Wow, that's very sweet," I said. He shrugged.
"It works with the parents."
"Oh, I don't know," Marilyn said, visibly anxious. "I don't know if he likes me that much… or that way." I rolled my eyes.
"He totally does." She raised an eyebrow at my wording.
"But I can't just go up to him and tell him to tell my mom that. Besides, she doesn't let me call him, and if she finds out I saw him, she will get mad." I thought for a moment, but then saw Marilyn's mom approaching us again.
"Listen, we'll talk to him. Don't worry about it, okay? We'll sort everything out. God, you two aren't even going out yet, and everything is screwing up. It's like the universe is conspiring against you guys."
"How was your little chat?" Mrs. Edwards asked as she came up to us.
"Fine, Mom," Marilyn said, somewhat tonelessly.
"It was lovely to meet the three of you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here in Carmel."
"Thank you. Have a nice day," Jesse said, and I grinned. Then they left. I went to buy our food, and we left the grocery store.
"Let's go find Dominic," I said, and turned the corner to head toward the campus.
"Susannah," Jesse said, with an edge of weariness to his voice that made me stop and turn around. "Slow down. You don't have to go off and do it just this second."
"But… but…"
"He's right, Suze," Paul said. "I'm tired. And hungry. And if you're not still pissed off at me, I'd like a sandwich.
"We're not going anywhere, Susannah," Jesse said. He took the bags from me, and grabbed my hand with his free one. "All we've been doing is reading and acting as a go-between for Marilyn and Dominic. If their relationship doesn't work out because you take an afternoon off, it isn't your fault. Go to Dominic later." I sighed, irritated, but allowed him to gently steer me in the other direction back toward the hotel.
Once there, we all collapsed on our respective beds. Paul yawned, turned away from us, and remained silent—until a very slight snoring reached our ears.
Jesse wrapped his arms around me, and I snuggled against him, my head on his shoulder. I sighed, enjoying the relaxation. Jesse and I hadn't had much "alone time," so to speak, since Paul was around all the time. Obviously we couldn't exactly get it on with Paul napping approximately 3 feet away, but we could cuddle. Which isn't quite as good, but perfectly acceptable.
"Mmm… I've missed you," Jesse murmured into my hair.
"We've been together nearly all day, every day, for more than a week," I said, looking up at his face. He had a slight smile dancing on his lips, which pressed themselves quickly and gently against my own.
"Our bodies may have been located near each other… but I feel like I haven't been with you at all."
"I know…" I kissed him again, and he returned my kiss. We lay there for several long minutes, just holding each other and kissing. But then Jesse pulled away, breathing heavily.
"Not now… Paul is right here," he panted. I groaned, and buried my head in his shoulder. "As soon as we get home… and can really be alone…" He trailed off, and I nodded and snuggled closer.
More time passed as we held each other, but soon we heard Paul make the noises of waking up, so we separated and sat up just as he rolled over and stretched.
"You guys hungry?"
We made our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
After that, we went to the St. Francis campus, and waited on a bench near the central quad until we saw Dominic leave the library, and head in our direction.
"Dominic!" I said, getting his attention. He said a quick goodbye to his companion, who walked away.
"Hello," he said politely, but his face was drawn and he looked tired.
"How are you?" I asked sincerely, and he shrugged.
"Alright, I suppose. You heard about Mrs. Edwards, I'm assuming?" I nodded. He sighed. "I don't know what to do," he said hopelessly. "I want to have a relationship with Marilyn, but it's just not working."
Paul spoke up. "It's not a lost cause," he said. "You just need to go back to Mrs. Edwards and talk to her. Dress nice, comb your hair, and explain that you love Marilyn."
Dom looked startled. "I don't… I mean…"
"You love her," Jesse said confidently. "Or if not yet, you will." He gave him a half smile. "Trust me, I know these things." Paul snorted indelicately, and Jesse shot him a withering glare.
"You think I should talk to her, then?" Dom asked, uncertainly. We all nodded.
"Go," I urged, and he bit his lip.
"Okay," he said, smiling nervously. "Thank you."
"Good luck!" I called, as he walked away.
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A little more than an hour later, it was getting dark out, but Jesse, Paul, and I were hanging out in the park. Paul had wandered a few yards ahead of us, which means Jesse and I managed to hold hands without getting sarcastic looks from the third member of our party.
"Do you think he went right to talk to her?" I asked Jesse, leaning against him slightly.
"I think so. I really think he cares about her a lot," he said. "Not only because we know what happens, that he becomes a priest when he can't have her. But even just the way he acts when he's around her and when we're talking about her. He's well on his way to loving her, if he doesn't already. He just doesn't realize it." I thought for a moment.
"I knew he liked her… but I never realized he liked her that much so quickly. I didn't notice anything unusual." Jesse grinned.
"It takes a man in love to recognize one." I stopped, pulled him to look at me, then wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my mouth to his. My heart was flying.
But then, suddenly I felt a different feeling inside. Someone was pulling at me, tugging with all their strength. I pulled away from Jesse, and threw all my muscle and weight into keeping from being pulled over. But no one was touching me except Jesse, who still had a hand resting gently on my arm.
Jesse noticed my pained, concentrated expression. "Susannah, are you okay?" he asked.
His voice distracted me from my defensive position. A giant tug rendered me unbalanced. I fell forward with a surprising force, but Jesse didn't block my fall. I was on the ground, on my stomach.
I grunted as I pushed myself up so I could see. The ground was cool to my touch, not the sun-warmed pavement Jesse and I had been standing on. This was smooth and cold.
As I looked up I realized I was no longer in 1950s-Carmel. Fog surrounded me. Stars twinkled benignly above me, and doors lined the ceiling-less hallway that led on to oblivion.
As I watched, confused and still struggling to bring in air after my belly-flop, I heard hollow, echoing footsteps. Through the fog, the form of a man appeared, walking toward me.
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