After We've Said Goodbye chapter 12
By Carolyn
AN: Um… don't kill me. I know it's been like 10 months since my last update. College and summer and forgetting all about it can do that.
"To my surprise, and my delight
I saw a sunrise, I saw a sunlight
I am nothing in the dark
And the clouds burst to show the daylight
Oh and the sun with shine
Yeah on this heart of mine
Ohh and I realize
Who cannot live without.
Ohh come apart without…" –Coldplay
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For the rest of our walk—or I should say, his walking, my floating—you could have asked me who Jessica Winters or Anthony Tonelli were, and I honestly would not be able to tell you. My mind was so far from everything that had happened in the previous few hours that I couldn't—didn't want to—remember any of the earlier events.
Well, maybe except the most recent one.
And even though kissing Jesse certainly perked the evening up, it was kind of like a sugar-high; for those brief few minutes, I was more alert than I had been in my entire life, but immediately afterward, I fell into the most peaceful, tired state, and promptly fell right to sleep.
I know, I'm pathetic. I really am.
But you know what? I may be pathetic, and sick, and still wet from both water and blood, but none of that really mattered. Jesse was carrying me, like I was this precious treasure, and for that time, nothing could go wrong. For the first time in months, although I was in my sickest, most beaten up state, I was truly happy.
And when I woke up to Jesse's soft voice in my ear, I swear I was still smiling.
"Querida. . . I want you to see something."
I lifted my head from his shoulder—checking inconspicuously for drool (there was none, graciously)—and looked up. Jesse was smiling, but I didn't know why until I looked at my surroundings.
Everything looked so familiar. . . the same smells, the same view. . . only no pine needles pricking at my butt. The only reason that was, I realized, was because I was still being held by a certain 20-something ghost.
My porch roof. I was back on my porch roof. I guess after I had fallen asleep, Jesse had taken a little detour back to Ninety-nine Pine Crest Road.
When I looked out at the horizon, my mouth agape in stunned silence, I saw what Jesse wanted to show me.
The sun was rising, and it was the most beautiful sight I had seen in years.
The bright golden ball of fire was lifting from below the ocean where it slept, turning the low streaky clouds shades of crimson and lavender, reflecting in the serene cerulean sea. I swear, every color in the spectrum was present in this sunrise, from the forest-green of the pine needles, to the firey orange of the sun, to the tan sand in the distance, and the pink shadows of the clouds. It was like someone had taken a paintbrush and dipped it into each color of crayola, streaking it across the sky. Never had I seen anything so magnificent.
"That. . . oh, my god. . . that's. . . wow. . ."
Jesse smiled broadly. It was like he knew that this, of all mornings, would be the most breathtaking views of all eternity, and had chosen last night precisely to return, just to be here to share it with me.
Everything was perfect. At that particular moment, not a damn thing could go wrong. My shoulder stung, and my throat and lungs were sore and achy from the coughing and drowning and whatnot. . . but life right then was absolutely sublime. Like the past half-year was just erased with the end of a number-two pencil—all the pain, the devastation, the crushing heartache, gone.
The only thing that kind of put a damper on the current romantic mood was the fact that my nose was running like a marathoner, and I didn't have anything to stop it. If Jesse were to kiss me again, I didn't exactly want it to be like that one scene in "The Young and the Restless" when Victor kissed Hope and there was that string of snot between them when he pulled away. I mean, that's something you'd think the editors would airbrush out, or have a retake, or something. It really killed the mood.
I needed a tissue, and badly. It's not like I had a sleeve, or anything, for this emergency. So I just sat there, sniffling every few seconds in order to prevent a rather un-charming and gross event from taking place.
"A new day, querida. I could not imagine a greater way to begin it."
Aww, Jesse. Leave it to a nineteenth-century rancher to drop a romantic bomb when I'm sitting here pondering my nasal mucous. I smiled.
We sat there in comfortable silence for a few more moments, until I felt a sneeze coming. I don't get sick much, but I do know that sneezes plus runny noses usually equal a mess of unpleasant goop spewing out in a rather undignified way.
"I'll be right back," I said. "Just gonna sneak in and get a tissue quick."
Sneak in. To my own house.
Oh, welcome back, Suze. Welcome back to your fantastical life.
I climbed in through the window—it was shut, but opened relatively easily since it wasn't latched—and swung over the window seat. I took a deep breath, absorbing the serenity I was feeling, and nearly skipped into the bathroom. Everything was so familiar, so comfortable, yet so amazingly different at the same time.
I cleared out my nasal passages, and used the "facilities" as well. Hey, I figured it was going to be a long walk back to school—might as well use a toilet while you've got one.
"Suze?"
I froze.
Busted.
My voice was small from the bathroom. "Um. . . no?"
"Suze, it's just me, David. You can come out," he whispered.
I did, only to be greeted by a flaming red ball of hair in my face, and two arms wrapped around me like the Jaws of Life. I couldn't help but laugh.
"Nice to see you too, David."
"What are you doing back?" he ventured, not seeming at all disturbed that I was soaking wet as he released me. Then, he saw my shoulder, which was matted with a nice display of dried blood, and my face, which was probably a little swollen from the abuse I had taken earlier that day. "Oh," he realized. "Business?"
I smiled in spite of myself. "You could say that."
Then, he scrutinized me a little closer. "You're different," he noted. "You're. . . I don't know. Happy."
I looked away, trying unsuccessfully to hide my stupefied grin. "Yeah," I sighed. "You could say that, too." I gazed longing out the window, where Jesse was still sitting, staring off at the sunrise, which was slowly reaching higher into the morning sky.
"He's back, isn't he?"
This time I didn't bother trying to mask my smile. And it was all the answer David needed.
"Hey, Dave! Breakfast, come on! What's taking you so long?" came Andy's voice from the staircase. It must have been around 6:30am, almost 7, and the remainder of the family was getting ready for work and school.
"You'd better go, before they find you and start the interrogation," Dave said in a hushed voice. I nodded, and turned away with a final smile toward my youngest, and favorite, stepbrother.
I didn't make it to the window, though. Before I could prop my leg up on the edge, David threw his arms around me again, in a big bear-hug. "It was good to see you again, Suze. I miss you."
My eyes almost began to tear. I patted him on the head, which was getting closer and closer to level with mine. In just the few months I've been gone, David seemed to have grown, and not just physically. There was something about him. . . something that just seemed more. . . mature.
"I miss you too. I'll be back again soon, I'm sure."
And with that, I hopped back out the window.
"Hey, Suze?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time you come back, try not to smell so much like fish."
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More to come soon, once I work out this writer's block that I'm coming across mid-way through chapter 13. I guess it really is an unlucky number. And the fact that I haven't touched this story since like, February probably has something to do with it, too.
And when I say "soon," that really means "anytime within the next year," knowing me. So I apologize if I don't get it out until 2006! It's my last year of college and finals are fast approaching, and unfortunately they have to take precedence over fun things, considering I'm paying $17,000 out of pocket to get this education.
Review and make me sure I haven't been forgotten about!
2005 by Carolyn