Until we find her, p.2
Until We Find Her, page 2
The party that had moved out onto the lawn was loud, but they were high enough off the ground to be able to pretend they were alone. They sat quietly for a few minutes, each listening to the chatter and laughter below. He held her hand in his and quietly asked, “What do you hope to do with your life?”
A simple question with a simple answer. “I want to do art. Painting and creating is what brings me joy. Always. I want to be a mother. I want to be married. I hope that doesn’t scare you, but it is that simple. Marriage, motherhood, and art.”
She glanced over to see if he was going to laugh, or worse, run out the door. Either way, she was being honest.
“What about you?”
He tightened his grip on her hand and with a slight smile, he answered. “Mine is not that simple. I will take over the family business. Also, marriage and children.”
She smiled. At least they were on the same page as far as marriage and children were concerned. “How many children do you see yourself with?”
“Three or four. How about you?”
Oh, oh! He just slid down a little on the page. “Two? I have always envisioned two, but I guess that will depend on the man that I marry. It’s all about compromise, so I’m open.” She wondered if it was too soon to be discussing this, but somehow it felt right.
He casually stretched his long legs out and propped them up on the rail. She took a minute to admire the length of him. In the dark, she took this time to study his face. The full moon cast a glow that allowed her to see his intent stare. He was lost in his thoughts, so she continued her inspection. She looked at his black hair that was combed back and had a slight curl to it that made its way over the top of his collar. It brought to mind for the second time tonight, McConaughey, who styled his hair this way.
And like that embarrassing meeting with a celebrity, Samuel turned his head to see her staring at him. Instead of apologies and forgiveness, he reached over and joined his mouth with hers. Cassandra gave herself over to the sensations of his expert kiss, and instead of resenting his experience, she welcomed it. She momentarily wondered why she wasn’t worried about having to tell him about saving herself. She wasn’t impaired. She drank plenty of beer this night, but she was here because she wanted to be. Besides, he wasn’t pressuring her, and if he did, then she would tell him. But right now? She only wanted to enjoy the night, the kiss, and the possibilities that lay ahead.
When at last the discomfort of the chairs could not be ignored, Samuel took her hand in his, and without taking his eyes off her, he gently pulled her from the chair and moved her toward the bed. He lay beside her and once again joined his lips with hers.
Still, she did not tell him. When things started to heat up and it was apparent she was not going to stop him, she thought, It’s because I want this. I want him. He has my heart, and I don’t want it back. She gave him what she had held on to for so long and knew it had to be because he was the one.
* * *
When Samuel opened his eyes in the morning, he was greeted with a now-silent house. The rooms were full of students sleeping off the night before, some who didn’t belong there, spilling into every corner of the house.
Samuel had a private room, and his friends who were always at his side would make sure no one entered unless he wanted them too. Last night, he wanted Cassandra to enter this room.
He turned to look at the woman who was now deep in sleep. He recalled the night before, and a deep dread filled him. A woman giving herself to him was not unusual. He had a charm that was hard to resist. He didn’t need to convince a female to give him what he wanted. They gave it willingly. What he never wanted was to take someone’s virginity. That usually meant they wanted more.
He lightly traced her cheek and ran his finger down to outline her jaw. She was beautiful. Why would she give him something that was obviously important to her? You didn’t get this far, saving it for any other reason than waiting for the right one.
It moved him. As he studied her face, he thought about his graduation. He wasn’t staying to walk, only to finish up and move back home. He had been vague about that with her because it didn’t matter. And he wasn’t who people thought he was. He had a destiny, and the only way he was willing to fulfill that was by having this time in the United States. He wanted to experience a normal college career, and then he would be ready to step into what his responsibility was. A life that would never include Cassandra. His father had only agreed to these last few years because he knew Samuel was dead serious about it. And he knew he would be safer away from home.
Looking at her full lips that had brought him great pleasure the night before, he imagined what would follow if things were different. He, for sure, would pursue this girl lying beside him and explore if they could have a life together. He would court her. He was curious about her art. He would have liked to see all her paintings, to hear about what inspired her in her choice of subjects.
He would like to tell her that he had spotted her on campus a few times, and her beauty followed him and crept into his head at odd times. He would like to tell her that he would have approached her at some point and asked her out, but he hadn’t because he desperately wanted to avoid hurting her.
Then he would have liked to be honest and tell her that he arranged for his friends to get her to the party. They knew why it had to be kept under-wraps, needed to be done quietly, so they made sure Beth knew about the party, which would be the most desired place to be. The party that would draw the biggest crowd, and then, he waited for them to arrive.
If he could have imagined how he would have wanted the night to end, it would have been exactly like it did, except for the one thing. He did not expect that, and now he would leave feeling sorry for the thing he took from her without an explanation. An explanation that would have gone something like this. “I’m sorry I took your virginity, and I hope you don’t regret it, but I must go now. I must go and never see you again because I am promised to another. Oh, and did I mention? I have a kid at home.”
Yeah, that would go over great. So, with one last look at the girl who would linger in his memories, he rose from the bed, quietly dressed, and left the room. He nodded to his buddies, and they all turned and made their way down the hall, entered a waiting black sedan, and drove off. Exactly one hour later, they were boarded onto a private plane and departed for the journey home. And this is where the secrets began.
Chapter Two
A
light breeze came through the open window and put a slight chill into the room. Cassandra pulled the blanket up to her chin and slowly opened her eyes. A smile started to spread across her face. She reached over with her hand to find the other side of the bed empty.
The room looked different with the sun shining through the window, replacing the moon of the previous night. The walls were painted a light green and were absent of all posters. Instead, a few small art pieces hung, not the usual décor for a college senior. Again, a smile appeared as Cassandra thought about the night before.
So, this was what all the fuss was about. What was it about Samuel that broke down all her carefully laid and fiercely guarded defenses? She knew he felt it too, and her excitement started to grow when she realized that she felt little regret. A twinge, but mostly what she was feeling was hope for their future. She knew it with her whole heart. She wasn’t naïve, and she knew what people would think. She should have waited to get to know him better. She should have found out more about him. She didn’t even know where he lived. She wasn’t worried. When he returned, she would ask him everything that seemed unimportant last night.
She wondered if he went down the hall for a shower. Maybe to pick up coffee for the two of them although she could see an empty coffeepot across the room, sitting on his desk.
She rose and picked up his T-shirt that was laid on the end of the bed. She covered her naked body. She continued looking around. His closet had clothes hanging that she started to inspect. As she slid one hanger over, she looked at a shirt that was obviously very expensive and expertly pressed. Hanging next to it was a pair of jeans, also pressed and expensive. A sweatshirt in the Stanford colors hung alongside several team logo T-shirts. He obviously was a fan. Cassandra had enjoyed a few of the games, but if it weren’t for Beth, she would’ve never have gone to a single one. She would have to rethink that. If Sammy was a fan, she would become a fan.
Couples often tried things that were unimportant before the relationship. Maybe she could put a brush and paints in front of Sammy and show him how to create. As she was dreaming about the new things they would try, she made a mental note to order a Cardinal sweatshirt for herself.
She returned to the bed and started dressing. She didn’t want him to return and find her snooping through his things. As she was buttoning up her blouse, she moved toward the window. She felt different today. Somehow more grown-up, more hopeful for her future. She closed the window while looking down to the lawn and inspected the mess that was left from the night before. Someone was going to have a lot of work getting that cleaned up. Maybe that was where Sammy went, to help clean up.
Sitting on the bed, she noticed for the first time, it was soft. Too soft. Her eyes scanned the room to see if he left a note. There was nothing, and the earlier excitement she had been feeling was slipping, just a little. She really wanted him to return. They had so much to talk about. She scooted nervously to the edge of the mattress, waiting.
Just when she thought she would leave a note and return to her room, there was a light knock on the door. Finally, her excitement returned. A man entered and excused himself before ignoring her and starting to clean out Sammy’s room. He methodically started emptying drawers into the boxes he had brought along. One drawer, and then another. A second man appeared with a suitcase filling it with the clothes she had just inspected. The art, removed from the wall was packed on top of the clothes. The room started to appear stark. Unforgiving.
Cassandra sat frozen on the bed and watched as they carefully packed school supplies into one box, toiletries into another, folding the jeans, shirts, the Cardinal sweatshirt. They stacked the boxes outside the door. When she finally found her voice, all she could come up with was, “Why are you packing all of his stuff?”
“Sorry, miss, but he has graduated and is now going home.”
“Will he be back?”
“I don’t think so, miss.”
“Where is ‘home’?”
“Can’t say, miss.”
Cassandra thought she might punch him if he called her miss one more time. She tried to force the tears in place, but they started to escape and run down her cheeks. A sick dread started in the pit of her stomach. There had to be a mistake. She couldn’t have been that wrong about him. She couldn’t! Maybe he had hired these guys to clean out his room and would return with that coffee she had desperately started to need. Either way, she couldn’t stay here any longer. He would have to find her. She had waited long enough.
* * *
By the time she reached her dorm room that she shared with Beth, she was in full hysteria mode. Something told her he wasn’t coming back. She burst through the door and threw herself on her bed and sobbed. A sleeping Beth immediately jumped out of her bed and joined Cassandra on hers. Beth grabbed Cassandra and enfolded her into her arms.
“Oh, Cass! What happened? Did he hurt you?”
Cassandra couldn’t answer her, so she cried in the comfort of her best friend’s arms.
“Cass, I’ll kill him if he hurt you.” She rubbed her back and then realized that Cassandra just needed her company. Quietly, she lay beside Cassandra and let her cry.
But in her mind, she was plotting his murder. No one was going to get away with hurting someone so sweet and innocent as Cassandra. The jerk! He just made a big enemy!
When at last Cassandra had no more tears, she lay beside Beth and stared at the ceiling.
“Beth, I don’t know what happened last night, but I really thought this was something I wanted. He cast a spell on me, and I gave him everything.”
Beth gasped. “Everything? Oh Cass, did he drug you?”
“No, Beth. I willingly gave it. He didn’t pressure me in any way. That’s why this is so hard. How could I have been so wrong?”
“Were you drunk?”
“No, not really.”
Beth let a little smile appear but was careful to not let Cassandra see. This was serious for her, and she would never want to downplay it.
“Cassandra, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. That’s a normal Friday night for a lot of us. It’s not really the end of the world. You were careful, right?”
Cassandra looked over at her friend but said nothing.
“You were, right?” Her eyes widened and she slowly shook her head. “Oh Cassandra, we will figure this out. Tell me everything. Why are you so upset? Maybe you will be together, and he will be your guy.”
“I think he’s left. He was gone when I woke up, and some men came and cleared out the room. Beth, he’s not coming back. I feel it.” Fresh tears started falling, and again, Beth wrapped Cassandra up in her arms and let her friend cry.
* * *
The following days before the campus cleared out for the summer, Cassandra waited for Sammy. She held hope that he would come for her and have a perfectly plausible explanation.
He didn’t return. He had disappeared. She couldn’t find anyone who knew much about him. The other boys in his house knew he was from somewhere possibly overseas, but no one knew where. He was just the cool guy with the accent who rocked at beer pong. He mostly hung out with his few close buddies, and no one was aware of any serious relationships. A few overnighters they think but couldn’t really say. He dressed well and had great hair.
All surface things. It occurred to Cassandra that if it was a girl in a sorority, everyone would know everything. How did he stay so far under the radar?
She couldn’t get any student information because it was private. Finally, Cassandra had to realize that she had been duped; he used her for a one-night stand, and that was that. She would return home and lock away that one night that started with so much hope and excitement for a new love but ended with a heart cracked wide open. She would have to let it mend and then keep it locked up. Drastic, but that was how she felt.
* * *
The summer proved to be a turning point in her future. She spent her time honing her painting skills and returned to the same hamburger joint she worked at when she had first met Beth.
Living at home meant that she didn’t need much money, and painting helped to soothe her soul, so that is what she did most of the time. The extra money from her job helped keep art supplies plentiful.
One afternoon when Cassandra was feeling more depressed than usual, she took her easel and paints down to the river a few miles from her house. She stood at the river’s edge and studied her surroundings. She mapped out the trees across the river and noted how the reflection rippled in the water. The long grass that made its way to the river rock edge swayed gently. She watched a blue heron stand on a tall rock, watching for a fish to make a wrong move and become lunch. The river rock that most people would see as gray was multicolored. Grays, tans, blacks, blues. You had to look for the colors, but they were there. That is what differentiated the eye of an artist from the eye of a non-artist. She memorized the feel of the air, the heat of the sun, the shadows that added interest to the scene.
As she was setting up her easel, she again took in the sight before her. The peace that accompanied her during a painting session didn’t betray her today. It started to wash over her, settled and calmed, as if worry and regret couldn’t touch her.
She set up the table to hold her easel and paints. She then returned to the car and opened the bottle of water that she had packed inside a cooler. The frosted glass was filled with the clear liquid. She touched the glass to her lips and took a small sip. When she returned to her spot, she placed the glass down on the table and sat to begin her latest painting.
She again took in the scene before her. The scene that was this day’s subject, the one she had come here to capture. Many artists preferred to take a picture and then return to the studio to paint. Cassandra preferred plein air painting. Many things added to her experience. The warmth of the sun on a summer afternoon. The coolness of the air on an autumn morning. The birds flitting around from tree to tree. The occasional fish jumping for a bug that skimmed just above the water line.
She laid out her paints, brushes, towels, and water for cleaning the brush in between colors. She sat a while longer, still looking at the riverbank and trying to decide how she wanted to show it. She then put brush to paper, and instead of a river scene, started to paint her memory of how Sammy looked on the night that he took all of her. The night that was slightly fading from her memory but would always linger around the edges of her mind and even more so around her heart. She remembered the shape of his face. The darkness of his eyes. The arch of his eyebrows. The thickness of his hair that touched his collar. She remembered the swirl at his hairline and how she had taken her finger and traced it. All this was painted, but she painted it how she saw him with the moon casting a glow on his face while they were sitting on the balcony. He was in shadow because that was how she remembered him. Silent, deep in thought, and beautiful.
She often thought she wished she had asked what he was thinking about at that moment. Was he thinking about how to get her into bed? Or making his escape afterward? She sipped her water and continued painting. She painted the night sky and a large moon that cast the light across his face. She painted his long legs, stretched out and resting on the rail. Instead of him looking out to the partiers below like he had that night, she painted him looking down at the bundle he was holding in his arms. A wrapped-up blanket that held the baby she was now carrying. The growing baby that would enter this world without the father who helped create him or her. The little human that she now rested a protective hand over.
