A Season of Eden (26 page)

Leesa hovered. There was something she wasn’t telling me. I knew she wanted me to ask her about it. I figured it had something to do with James and flowers, and I’d already taken care of that so I didn’t care what she’d done.

When she couldn’t hold it in any longer, she followed me into the bathroom. I stood at the mirror, patting powder on my chin. “You look excited,” I finally said.

“I am,” she gushed. “I got Mr. Christian a Michael Bublé CD to go with yellow roses.”

“That will be nice.”

“His mother told me yellow was his favorite color.”

“Yeah? You talked to his mother?”

Her head bobbed like a dashboard toy. “I called her.”

“Wow. That was… brave.”

“I know. I called one hundred and twenty six different Christians in the book before I got the right one. And guess what?” She leaned close, her voice dropped to a whisper, “I know where he lives.”

“Seriously?”

She bubbled. “In the Rivera. He lives with his mom, isn’t that cute?”

“Uh… why is that cute?”

“Men that like their mothers are the kind you want to marry, at least that’s what my mom always says.”

Knowing first hand the kindness between James and his mother, I couldn’t disagree. I smiled. “Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”

She shrugged, eyes gleaming. “Might as well dream big.”

I’d always dreamed big. And my dreams usually came true. I snapped my compact shut and stuck it back in my purse. “Show’s almost over. Better go get your roses.”

Each choir gave James something different. By the end of the show, his arms were laden with bouquets and brightly wrapped gifts. The way he grinned, the soft glow illuminating from his skin, I could see that he was pleased.

I stood out in the reception area with the rest of the choirs, mingling with parents and friends. Brielle made her way through the laughing, talking crowd. She handed me a pink rose and hugged me.

“You guys were great!”

“Thanks.” I eased back and sniffed the rose. “How sweet of you. Seriously. You didn’t have to do that.”

Brielle shrugged. “You deserve it.” She wrapped around me again, with a longer hug this time. “Thanks for being there for me.”

“Aw.” I patted her back, touched by her display of friendship. “Anytime, baby.”

“I gotta run. See you tomorrow?” She backed into the crowd.

“Yeah, okay. See ya.” I sniffed the rose again.

I looked for Dad. We found each other in the outdoor common area next to the auditorium. He smiled. I hadn’t seen him look so happy in a long time.

“You did great, honey.” He hugged me.

“Did you like it?”

“It was great, really was. And that’s one of my favorite songs, that Titanic song. What’s it called?”

“One of your favorite songs and you don’t know the name of it?
Dad
.”

“Stacey kept track of those things.”

Did he have to bring her up? I ignored the comment and forgave him, knowing how hard it was to get somebody out of your head. I almost told him it was time to start keeping track on his own, but stopped myself.

Then I saw James.

He stood surrounded. Graciously, he greeted myriads of parents. I watched as casually as I could, awed that he took the compliments, the incessant gabbing from both students and parents with the sure confidence of a man.

Not a boy.

But then he was a man.

Dad must have followed my nonchalant stare, because he said, “Your singing teacher seems like a talented guy.”

“He is,” I said. “Um, will you excuse me a minute? I have to congratulate him.”

“Sure, sure. Do you want me to wait so I can drive you home?”

“No thanks. I’ll catch a ride.” He’d hate for me to walk, so I didn’t tell him.

Dad brought me in for a side hug. “You know your mom loved to sing. Do you remember?”

I didn’t, and was pleased to know. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. See you at home, honey.” He kissed the top of my head then he went on his way.

I dug into my purse for the large jewelry box and held it behind my back. Then I waited outside the boisterous circle that surrounded him. Finally, there was a break and he was left alone. He looked at me.

“Eden.”

“Hey. It went so great tonight. Everyone sounded good—even us.”

His eyes sparkled. “You guys sounded the best ever tonight.”

“You told us to sing our best and we did.”

He nodded. I saw his mother come up behind him.

Where she had been in the interim I wasn’t sure, but she smiled, nodded at me and touched James’ elbow. “I’ll be in the car, James.” Then she was gone.

Some students were still in the music room and their laughter filtered out into the hall.

“I have something for you.” I held out the box.

His eyes widened. He tried to balance the various bouquets, Leesa’s CD, and other gifts in his hands so that he could take it. We both laughed.

“You didn’t have to give me something, Eden.” He opened it. His brows knit tight across his face in confusion.

I could tell he was trying not to laugh. So was I. He lifted the two large black cat collars, crusted with silver bells, from the box.

“What in the—?”

“For when you sleep.” I grinned. “Just slip those on your ankles at night. You make a move to get out of bed, and—dingalingaling—they’ll wake you up.”

He let out a hearty laugh, the infectious sound filled the empty hall and echoed through my heart. “That’s… that is
so
funny.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek without realizing it. After, he glanced around. I did too. Empty hall.

Both of us broke into another smile.

“Eden, that’s really…” His smile settled and the green in his eyes flickered. “That’s sweet.”

“I don’t know how practical it is, but you can’t be out walking around when you’re unconscious. It’s dangerous.”

He studied the collars with a smirk. “I will definitely give these things a try.”

“You got quite a haul there.” I nodded at the bounty in his arms.

“Yeah.”

We started toward the music room together. He seemed to be walking as slow as me. “Leesa was so excited about the CD.”

“I could tell. Mom told me she called.”

“Watch out,” I laughed. “She’s on your trail.”

He cringed, but he wore a smile. We stopped at the door of the music room. Some of the kids from Renaissance were still partying. I didn’t go in. “Well, congratulations again.” I backed in the direction of the parking lot.

He stood outside the door of the music room, watching me. “Bye, Eden.”

The weeks I went back to being just another student in James’ class were the hardest of my life. Nothing could take away what had happened between us. His whispered words floated in the air every time I looked at him—every time he looked at me. Fragments drifted in my mind of the feel of his body next to me, of how comforted I felt wrapped in his elbow-patched coat. The way he’d opened himself when he’d kissed me.

It took a while for that memory not to bury me. I knew I’d only be able to forgive myself for such a blunder by proving to him and to myself that I could handle this relationship. I was handling it by doing what he’d asked.

Waiting.

I often wondered if he ever thought of me. Sometimes I caught him looking at me with something more than how he looked at Leesa or anyone else. I forced myself to ignore it. I wanted to give him enough time to breathe.

Think. Wonder.
Miss.

My past had taught me that if I pulled back, whatever I wanted came right to my hand. At first, I doubted this would happen with James. He’d taught me that the years between us were thick with significance, layered with nuances that made a difference.

More than anything I wanted to leap forward and catch up with him. I was certain I could, without having to actually live the years. I was certain he thought I could not.

So I stepped back. I was friendly but distant, helpful without being threatening. It was easy, because I set my mind to doing whatever it took to gain his faith again.

Finals stole my mind from James, from wanting him for a few weeks. I poured myself into studying. Dad and I even took a quick trip up to USC to check out living options in L.A. Things between he and I started to loosen up, like a jar that had had its lid screwed on too tight and could breathe again. I listened to my iPod on the drive while Dad talked to the office. By the time the weekend was over and we’d looked at dozens of apartments and dorms, we were able to chat a little on the drive home.

June meant graduation. Saying goodbye. I hoped James was coming to the ceremony but I was afraid to ask – more of that not being threatening. I sent out hundreds of announcements at Dad’s request. One, I tucked into my locker just for James. I slipped one of my senior portraits in it but I couldn’t bring myself to give it to him. To him, it might just be another reminder of where I came from, rather than what I was leaving.

Still, the passage of graduation would mean I was free.

He was free. I’d been counting on that almost as much as I’d been counting on my diploma as a symbol of my independence.

The last day of school for seniors was spent signing yearbooks. In Concert Choir, kids sat in their chairs, exchanging books. James had his usual classical CD playing.

Mozart. His favorite. The melodies made me ache deep down, thinking about how much I would miss him. Miss the class and his music. As I stood in the doorway with my yearbook against my breasts, I knew I couldn’t wait much longer.

James stood at the piano, surrounded by kids waiting for him to sign. He wore a light pink button-down shirt, dark tie and khakis. I loved the way his hair curled at the back of his collar.

Engrossed in what he was doing, he didn’t see me.

I went to the risers and sat. I hadn’t been sitting two minutes before a group of whispering girls tentatively approached me.

I smiled. “Hey.”

One held out her yearbook. “Hey. Would you sign my book, Eden?”

I didn’t even know her name.
Embarrassing.
“Sure.” I took her book and opened it. Thankfully, her name had already been inscribed by dozens of her friends—Kaylyn.

Kaylyn,

Keep singing. Listen to classical music.

Eden

I happened to glance below where I’d signed and saw James’ name. Since Kaylyn was chatting with the girls she’d come over with, I quickly read the inscription.

Keep singing.

Mr. Christian

I smiled. Handing back her book, I glanced at James again, still surrounded, still scribbling away. “There you go, Kaylyn.”

She blushed. “Thanks.”

“Could you sign mine, too?” Her timid friend asked.

“Sure.”

I signed all five of their books. Memorized all their names and swore in my heart to say hi to them whenever I saw them again.

Leesa stood behind them, like she was at an author book signing. “Leesa, hey.”

“Hey.” She sat next to me. “Will you sign my book?”

“Of course.”

“Want me to sign yours?”

“After all the years we’ve known each other?

Absolutely.”

I read some of the comments Leesa’s friends had written, they blared up at me like neon in brightly colored pen.

Leesa,
Your smile’s the best ever. And you’re the best ever friend.
Darla

Leesa-bird,
Let’s hang out this summer. Even if you can’t go to the
beach, let’s do something. Whatever you want. Don’t forget to
call me. 310-2294. And here’s my email: [email protected]
Love you tons, Margo

Leesa, 
You’re the sweetest, nicest friend. Let’s not forget each
other, k? I hope you’re feeling better soon and that things don’t
get worse. Keep in touch.
I love you, Steph.

A pit opened in my stomach. Was Leesa okay? I hadn’t heard anything, but then we didn’t hang with the same crowd. I signed her book and waited for her to finish mine.

It looked like she was writing a novel. I felt bad I hadn’t written more.

Then she looked at me with her sunny smile and we exchanged books.

“Thanks.” She looked like I’d just handed her a million dollars.

“Hey, are you okay?”

My question startled her. I felt bad that she would find it surprising that I would ask. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Eden.”