For the next couple of nights, Laura went to 'her spot' and continued her chats with God, ending with 'Please send me a sign.' Weeks passed and no sign showed up. A knot formed in her stomach as Laura began to contemplate if she should even go to 'her spot' anymore. She knew that she only had a month left until she had to say good bye. But at nine o'clock, she found herself heading to 'her spot.' With a sigh, she plopped herself down onto one of the rocks. She bit her lip as she looked out into the Pacific Ocean. She reached back and swept her long blonde hair back into a ponytail, her eyes never leaving the majestic waters in front of her. The task completed, she began her talk, though she thought that God turned off his hearing aid whenever she began her ramblings.
"And please," she pleaded. "Send me a si…" Her eyes widened as a body appeared out of the shadows and crumpled to the ground. She pushed off of her perch on the rock and rushed to the body. Up close she noticed that it was a girl with long blonde hair and fair skin. Laura bent down and tried to prop the girl up. After several minutes of battling with the seemingly unconscious body, she finally managed to sit her up.
"Wha..?" The blonde girl started. She looked around frantically, and then, turning to Laura, said, "I'm Sara," and then wretched all over her.
Gagging, Laura rushed out into the ocean to clean off herself. Returning to Sara, Laura stooped down and clumsily hoisted her up. She draped one of Sara's arms over her shoulder and began the long walk back to her house. After what seemed like an hour, she arrived at her beach house. She stumbled through the back door, nearly dropping Sara. Quickly, she regained herself and took the remaining steps into the living room and gracelessly threw the hung over girl onto the couch.
"Wow. Your couch is squishy. I wish we had a couch like this at my house," Sara said in a daze, an odd look flashing across her face.
"Oh no you don't!" Laura ran and grabbed a bucket from the utility closet, placing it before the girl just in time to catch a spew of vomit. Laura heaved a sigh of relief. That was a close call. Soon after, Sara drifted off into a drunken slumber, and Laura sat on the recliner to the left of her. She didn't sleep. She watched this girl, analyzing the situation. Did God really listen? Did he send her the sign she so desperately craved?
"Laura," someone hissed from behind her. She groaned, having just managed to fall asleep. "Laura!" the person said again, this time a bit louder.
"What?" she whined. She opened one eye to see her mother peering at the strange girl on the sofa.
"There's a girl on our couch. And she smells like vodka." Laura had become used to her mother detecting alcohol. For the past ten years, she had been a heavy drinker, and she could sniff out anything with the even the smallest amount of liquor in it. With the help of the Playa Linda chapter of Alcoholic's Anonymous, she had cut it down to only two drinks a day. It was enough to make Laura happy, since she was making an effort to change, especially since her mom's motto used to be "A bottle a day keeps the demons at bay, and three take care of your dad." Cassandra Matthews had begun her heavy drinking when Laura was only seven. She had come home to find her husband, and Laura's father, in bed with his secretary. Two years later, their ever-so-messy divorce was finalized and she took to her maiden name, Cassandra Brooks. Ms. Brooks gained sole custody of Laura, and Laura herself adopted her mother's maiden name too. It was a rare occurrence, but they figured it to be in everyone's best interest.
Just then, Sara's eyes fluttered open. "Where am…" Ms. Brooks dove for the bucket and held it up to her mouth.
"C'mon honey, let's go make some of Mama's Brew," Ms. Brooks said softly, giving a steady hand for Sara to grasp. She turned and sent a sharp but confused look at her daughter before disappearing into the kitchen with the older, blonde girl.
In a couple of hours, Sara began to snap out of her hung-over stupor. By noon, they were even able to hold a conversation with her.
"Well, I ran away last year, from this rehab place. I was into drugs and smoking, and obviously alcohol," Sara explained. She looked at her two 'rescuers.' She expected them to draw back, make a face, or share a look of surprise. They did look at each other, but it wasn't in surprise. If anything, it appeared to Sara as if it was a knowing look.
"I used to be an alcoholic, and when I was younger, I experimented with drugs," Ms. Brooks revealed.
"Oh wow," was all that Sara could manage to say.
"And I ran away when my parents divorced. I thought it was my fault, and that if I was gone, they'd stay together," Laura chimed in.
"Drinking and drugs won't solve anything," Ms. Brooks added wisely.
"What about,"
"No. Neither does sex."
"Oh."
The three females sat in silence.
"I bet your parents are worried about you," Laura spoke, breaking the silence. Sara snorted, but stopped, thinking back to when she ran away.
"They probably have the coast guard, National Guard, and whatever other guards there are out there, looking for me," Sara said sarcastically. Ms. Brooks slid the cordless phone over to the oldest blonde. Sara stood up and walked over to the living room and collapse on the couch. She punched in a few numbers and then held the phone to her ear.
"Hey mother…mom…MOM!...I'm fine!...Yes, yes, it was late so I crashed at a friend's place…yes there was adult supervision…her mom is right here, do you wanna talk to her…well I'm not going to come home tonight…I'm gonna stay here…yes, she's okay with it…yes…MOM! Goodbye!" Sara hastily punched the off button and stood up.
"Would you like to," Laura began to offer.
"Oh no, it's alright. I'll probably stay at a motel or some other friend's house," Sara said, not wanting to burden them anymore.
"It's fine! We have an extra room upstairs. Stay as long as you like!" Ms. Brooks said with a large smile, sending a wink in her daughter's direction.
"If you're sure…"
"Of course we're sure!" Laura said excitedly.
"Well alright."
Laura's brain began to whir. Maybe, just maybe, He had answered?
"Hey," Sara cut into her thoughts. "You up for a party tonight?"