Read an Excerpt
Christmas Roadtrip
When Romance Meets a Dead End
By D L Wolven
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 D. L. Wolven
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-0516-1
Chapter One
The Wright Way to Christmas
Susan Wright considered the quarter in her right pocket; it clearly read In God we trust. Flip it. Heads, stick it out in the OC, waiting for Ken; or tails, start a whole new life anywhere else. She walked to her parents' computer in the project room. Sue lifted the nearly finished Christmas Snowball quilt from the back of the computer chair. Sue feared her mother would one day confuse the sewing machine with the computer, or its high-backed swivel chair. She was sure the outcome would be interesting, if it didn't involve a fire.
"You do know, Mom, it would be a bad thing to cover the computer with this quilt-top, right?" she hollered in the direction of the kitchen.
"I do. What are you doing in there?"
She plopped into the chair, and called up her email in two pokes. "Rest-of-my-life career stuff. I'm done with the internship at the radio station, and I'm going to be broadcasting live from somewhere in a couple of weeks ... just where, I don't know. Probably somewhere else," she mumbled to herself. The excitement had been growing for a few days.
"You and Lani have been a big help to your father putting up Christmas. He loves having you here to do the house, doesn't he?" Her mother's voice carried from the kitchen; it seemed she never left the kitchen.
"I love helping Dad, and so does Lani." Sue raised her voice to be heard. "It says Christmas on so many levels," Sue said without breaking her concentration. "I just need a minute to finish up here," she said, attempting to get what she needed, and return to work in the yard.
Susan read the three emails from radio stations that offered her positions in Seattle, Sault Ste. Marie, and Tallahassee. Her romantic side influenced her as she considered the last three places. Sue had boiled it down to Sault Ste. Marie, preferring the Midwest; it was her idea of Main Street USA, romantic and distant. She wondered what Ken might say. Ken had been her man for three years. She knew he would be disappointed if she was off to Michigan; but would he counter-offer?
Susan's life was rooted in Orange County, Southern California, just like Ken's. KYME offered her a twenty-hour on-air workweek for starters; with the promise she'd get the first full-time slot to open up. Her remote appearances at malls, conventions and the Orange County Fair received rave reviews. Her supervisor said she was gorgeous and talented. "You always get a crowd at appearances," he said.
Two other radio stations had made offers; one of them offered her her own show, introducing her as the brightest new face in radio. There was a gratifying, short bidding war. "That was fun," she'd said. "Where will it all end?"
The web-site technology gave faces to deejays, and fleshed out their personalities. Sue capitalized on it. Her site challenged broadcast radio to catch her if they could. The catbird seat felt good; unfortunately, she had to point her career in the right direction—soon.
She gazed out the window, staring at the three large orange trees; their fruit glowing in the late afternoon sun, hung like ornaments against the rich green leaves. Her father nurtured the three trees standing behind her rusted swing set, along the white wooden fence that boxed in her childhood.
But her future tugged her attention back to the screen. "Life's your adventure, embrace it, don't miss it," her father said more than once. "Your mother and I have had a thirty-five year adventure. Our life is like Joe Versus the Volcano."
"The movie. Are you saying it was 'always something,' something Mom had to be prepared to face, Daddy?"
"That's exactly what I mean. Oh, nothing illegal, or threatening our welfare—"
"I'm not sure I know what you mean."
"You know that movie, don't you? In some ways your mother and I saved each other, just like Meg and Tom. Tom Hanks saves Meg Ryan from drowning, she saves him from his perennial pessimism."
Now Susan stood on the brink, wanting an exciting career, and wanting Ken to step up and claim her future.
She'd give up the romance of a far off town and its opportunity, and jump into a local position in Buena Park, Santa Ana, or LA, as soon as Ken gave her the word—maybe tonight. He had to be so sure of everything.
She pulled her attention back to the computer screen, looking for an answer, as though God were going to lay the road map of her life right out on the twenty-two inch screen. Perhaps she could Google Map Susan Wright, and request directions; lefts and rights nicely laid out.
If she were to leave California, she would take her future to Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan. She sent thank-you notes to Seattle and Tallahassee. She had narrowed it down to Sault Ste. Marie. She liked the sound of it. It was a step forward.
She picked up the snowball quilt, and carried it to the kitchen. "Mom, this is so beautiful. I so appreciate mine. Who gets this one?" She handed an end to her mother. They spread it between them to admire some of the one hundred or more fabrics included in the surface, each one a Christmas novelty design.
"Mom, collecting this stash of designs must have taken years."
"Ten years. I couldn't decide which quilt pattern would display them best; you know how I can't pass up some new novelty fabric."
"Yes, Mom. My pillow case collection you've given me is testament to that."
"The stash just kept growing. I still can't resist a new one. I'm past one hundred-fifty, now," her mother said.
"It has snowmen on snowboards, the nativity painted in gold lines on purple cotton, Scotty dogs in wreaths, and Dick and Jane making a snowman." They opened it further. "Mom, I look forward to playing Can-you-find on the quilt with my own kids one day, searching for Mickey and Donald, and Baby Jesus." Each of the nearly four hundred, four-inch squares seemed round. "It makes my eyes buzz. You amaze me."
"Not as much as you amaze me. My daughter the radio personality. Think of it." Her mother lifted her eyes to Susan's face as she folded her end of the quilt. "This one is for your sister. I already completed one for your brother. They have to open them at the same time. You know how they get a little jealous toward one another. So, hold your breath till Christmas. That should be quite a show." She folded the quilt over her mother's arms.
"It's great being the oldest child," Sue said. "My quilt has been on my bed since Thanksgiving. It's my most prized possession," Sue said. It would be stored away at the end of February. They refolded the quilt-top. "Mom, just promise me you don't share too much of this creativity with Ken; he'd be quilting the next day, and I'd be competing with one more project."
"Quilting this time of year is the best, Susan." She carried the precious gift to the sewing machine, placing it on top.
Sue scooped up a finger-full of cookie dough from the large mixing bowl, and shlooped it off her finger. The kitchen exuded Christmas—cinnamon, cloves, sugar, and toast with peanut butter—scents that refused to be ignored. Navel oranges from their backyard, and lemons from the neighbor's tree filled the fruit bowl. The only mugs available for coffee or hot chocolate had snowmen, Santa, teddy bears, and holly leaves, and a myriad more images glazed across them. Peace, Joy and Jesus were printed on the mugs—there was even a golden menorah on a sky blue mug, but not one thing in the house said Season's Greetings.
Sue leaned over the sink, looking out the kitchen window, checking on her father's progress, till her mother returned. Her mother wrapped her arms around her tall, blonde daughter, with the brown eyes that left a trail of devastated young men across the landscape since she was fourteen. Sue stood with her arms pinned to her sides, tight in her mother's grasp. She knew her mother was praying, blessing her. This crossroad in Sue's life, starting a radio career, had brought more frequent hugs, especially in the weeks preceding Christmas, with the uncertainty she soon might move far away.
Sue heard a familiar voice out the screen door, as another guest arrived at the front of the garage, where the plywood lawn figures waited to be ensconced in the yard. Lani's father, Kainoa was shaking her father's hand.
"There's Kainoa," she said. Sue kissed her mother's cheek and pushed open the screen door. "Hello, Father Kai. 'Come to help Daddy?" Sue hugged Lani's father. "Tomorrow, he comes to my house, see?" Kainoa said. His walnut tanned face was capped by thick white, wavy hair, and split by a generous white smile.
Standing next to Lani, Susan felt identical to her, though opposites on the outside. Lani was shorter, five-foot, three inches, with chestnut hair and milk-chocolate skin. Gentle freckles were painted on the porcelain surface of her nose. Susan was five-foot, nine inches tall. But, they were twins on the inside, and both shared the feeling of time racing down on them, bringing an uneasy dissatisfaction. They wanted to get on with the rest of lives, just as their parents had when they were young. They had shared their apartment for five years. She and Lani were like sisters; tita, Lani said in Hawaiian. Susan had become ohana, insisted upon it, when Lani explained what it meant to be part of her greater family—ohana. Following years of carelessly tossing Aloha around in greeting, she'd learned it meant love. Aloha seemed to be the center of Lani's world and her family.
Sue and Lani enjoyed their fathers' exclusive of their siblings, all of whom were married. Their fathers often marveled that neither was married, though both shared friendships with an ample number of fine young men. "Dads and their daughters—"Mother said, "there's something special there."
They carried plywood Santa, and his five reindeer to the front lawn, and set them in place just as they had the preceding year. Sue knew her father thought of the house and yard as a huge Christmas card to the neighborhood. It was in process. More reindeer would eventually follow, till all eight filled gaps in a Down-Wright Christmas.
The roomies didn't worry about their fathers' aging, knowing they shared the same passions for woodworking, exterior illumination, and spoiling their children and grandchildren.
Neighbors wrapped their palm trees with lights, and most all had icicle lights draped along the eves. Two inflatable California Woody station wagons, from the big box hardware, with Santa at the wheel, and Rudolph surfing on the board on the roof, drove across neighbors' lawns. Large nativity scenes, lit by staked floodlights pushed into the lawns, graced other yards.
"I have a new 'app' in my phone, Sweety," her father told her. "Check this out. Kainoa found it. I can turn everything on or off, or just parts of the lights, or phase them on, you know, one set of lights at a time, or bush-by-bush. And. I can do it even if we're out shopping, or anywhere in the world."
Hammers, nails, staplers, and other small tools were stored, and the roomies carried the ladders out behind the garage before Mr. Wright lit the display.
At 4:15, they all gathered in the front yard watching Mr. Wright extend his cell toward the house. His right index finger, descending like a snowflake, pressed the send button. Lights came to life at their feet, nearest the sidewalk, then the trees flooded, the plywood lawn figures, the bushes, icicles along the eves, and finally, the multi-colored C-9 lights around the bay window, front door, and along the roof ridges—a wave of light. "Imagine how it'll look when it's dark!" Sue's father said.
"Tomorrow, my place," Lani's father said.
Sue and Lani jumped into Lani's red, ragtop BMW, and headed home, happy and just a little tired. They had talked all day about Sue's job opportunity and Ken's cold feet.
"You two are so much alike, really, Sue," Lani said.
"That's the odd thing," Sue said. "I've always felt badly for him. The girl he thought wanted to marry him, rejected him, flat-out. She simply led him along by the nose. He was confident she was the one. He committed himself to her lock, stock and barrel; and she pulled the rug from under him. They chose the ring together, too, but she wouldn't put it on. Months after it ended, she apologized every-which-way-to-Sunday for her part in the break-up, but with no hint of wanting to come back—just thought she should apologize. In the end, she was enamored with the idea of being in love, nothing else."
The wind felt nice as they drove along. If it wasn't going to rain, they might as well enjoy life with the top down. They reached the Crystal Arms. Lani stopped near the hallway leading to their apartment, jumped out, leaving the engine running, and headed for their door. "I need to pee. Park my car, okay? I'll use the key-in-a-rock."
Sue laughed, and jumped into the driver's seat. She parked the car, and pulled the roof shut. She walked back to the apartment, hoping all the while to avoid a looming impasse. She had three hours to get ready for their evening out.
Chapter Two
The End
"Maybe Ken just needs more time, Sue." Lani said. Susan turned to Lani with a cold stare that did not reflect the Christmas message of peace on earth, good will toward men. The iPod docked on the coffee table played Merry Christmas Darling by the Carpenters. "Guts are what he needs, Lani. He needs to get beyond the past."
Lani lifted the ceramic Virgin Mary, polishing it with a Kleenex before placing her in the manger scene on the mantel. "Sorry, Kid."
Susan's memory of a broken promise, seven years back, flooded over her. Martin, her fiancé, had bought a ring. He had performed the ancient down-on-one-knee dance in a very public place—Mariners Church. Two days later, he took back the ring, suffering from cold feet. Then, hat-in-hand, he returned the following Friday, asking her to marry him again. Susan wondered that she cared about marriage at all. Sue left Mariners Church to Martin. Ken had loved a woman just as she had loved Martin. He would not repeat her name. 'Ol' what's her name' was all he had ever said in reference.
Sue met Ken at Rock Harbor Church three years later, while standing next to him at a bistro table, eating doughnuts and drinking coffee, early one November Sunday. Susan understood Ken and his loss. She knew how it affected him. For nearly three years she'd been patient. Now, it was more than time enough for both of them to move on.
"Sue?"
"Sorry, Lani. I was off in my own world for a moment," Sue said.
"Maybe more time is not the right way to put it." Lani said. The discussion had gone on for half an hour. Ken came up in conversation all day as they worked.
"Lani. He had time enough to know two years ago," Sue said. "I always considered women who were strung along year after year to be spineless." Susan slipped a hank of bobbed hair behind her right ear. She sank into the couch, and slipped a silver earring, set with tiny sapphires, onto each ear. Sue grew quiet again, looking around the apartment.
"The anthuriums are beautiful." They surrounded the iPod dock on the coffee table. "I like how the palm fronds surround them. Your mom creates such nice arrangements."
"Mahalo," Lani said.
Neighbors in other apartments were getting dinner ready, bustling past their bay windows. Sue moved to their window and enjoyed watching the breeze push the red flax and bird of paradise side-to-side. Lani came to stand next to her, holding a porcelain figurine. "Our apartment is our hale hau 'oli, our happy home, our corner of the world," Lani said. She held up the figure for Susan to inspect. "Why do you think the Virgin Mary always has a blue scarf and a white muumuu?"
"Muumuu?" Sue said. "Huh! Never thought of it that way. I guess it is. I bet it's because she was Hawaiian." Lani gave Sue a quizzical stare. "Well, if God had to choose, I mean, if he wanted a large, loving family for Jesus, it could very well have been Hawaiian. That's my four-one-one on that," Sue said, as a proud Hawaiian adoptee. "Take it, or leave it."
The Nano moved on to Placido Domingo's Christmas album. Sue sang along with Ave Maria, trying her Latin. She snapped the arm off a gingerbread man frosted in green, and popped it in her mouth. "Lani, your family still misses Lahaina and Kaanapali. I know I do, and we only visited that one week last spring." She straightened some ornaments on the tree. Ornament Santa paddled an outrigger canoe from Lahaina; a moose rowed from Juneau, with a Christmas tree hanging over the bow, and a fishing boat with nets, from Amsterdam, sailed the travel section of the tree with a dozen other boats and cars, and the Queen of England.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Christmas Roadtrip by D L Wolven Copyright © 2011 by D. L. Wolven. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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