Unbroken Connection (20 page)

Sundays are great. She hasn’t bugged me to go to church with her until today. She has it way early. I sleep in—go shopping if I get bored. Then we have the whole day together.

I shop when she’s in class, too. At first I had to—no clothes. But some Vans, a couple pairs of jeans, a handful of black T-shirts, one button-up shirt, a jacket and another sweatshirt, and I’m good. Then I started buying Leesie stuff. Socks. Tiny little t-shirts. I spent one crazy hour and several hundred bucks at Victoria’s Secret. Haven’t given her that stuff yet. She’d freak.

Now I’m into jewelry. Provo is the jewelry store capital of the universe. I started out with dolphin shaped gold earrings. She loved those. There’s a nice jewelry store close to my hotel. Easy to drop in there—after the first awkward visit. They sell their diamonds loose. Have hundreds of nice settings. Loads better than mall chain crap.

Wednesday I went with the guy from the dive shop in Salt Lake up into the mountains to check out a hot spring where they scuba with students. Waste of time. Way too claustro for Leesie. Freak, it was phobic for me. Her first real dive in the ocean has to be perfect. Cozumel or Cayman. Thailand? Maybe.

I try to avoid calendars, but I know I’m running out of time.

Tonight is the big night. I’m meeting her missionaries. She made me go to church with her today. Pretty vanilla. I’ve been before back in Washington, and this was basically the same except mostly everyone there were kids from her dorm. She kept catching me zoning.

“If I did that during one of your dive lessons, you’d be livid.”

If she did that during a dive lesson, she’d be dead. Not. I’d save her. I tried to make sense of what these people were saying, but they speak in another language. Some guy talked about boy scouts for twenty minutes. Absolutely no point to what he was saying—as far as I could tell.

And it’s her fault I was sleepy. Our good night kiss at midnight last night turned into a half-hour make out in the front seat of the RAV4. I got a little gropey. Didn’t mean it. It just happened—reflex. She blocked it, always does, but got mad and bolted. Freak. Like I could sleep after that. The more I didn’t sleep—the more I couldn’t. When I finally did zonk out, Isadore decided it was a great time to kick up her storm. So today I’m psycho, grumpy—easier to zone than try to understand this crap.

I drive up to her dorm and park. She’s staking out the parking lot still wearing her Sunday dress and heels. Meets me at my door. “You came. I thought you might blow it off.”

“That hurts.”

“You were so bored at church today.”

“Weren’t you?”

She leans over and kisses me. “I’m never bored with you.”

I kiss her back. “Now if you did that in church, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

She giggles, elated. I’m forgiven again. She tries to hustle me into her apartment. I walk way too slow. She keeps getting ahead of me, circles back, grabs my arm, and hurries me along.

A plate of brownies sits on the table in their kitchen. “You’re feeding these to the missionaries?”

Leesie colors. The Tawni situation. Roomie wars. Leesie told Tawni and them, and everyone was mad at Leesie. Tawni thought something fake inside her was melting. Kanyon was sure she’d given him a disease. It all ended with Tawni blowing up. Everyone else blowing up. And now they are all best friends.

Leesie puts a brownie on a napkin for me. “These are good.”

Before I can take a bite, there’s a knock on the door. Leesie ushers in a couple of twenty-ish short-haired guys wearing cheap navy suits and thick-soled black dress shoes. White shirts. One guy’s tie is bright orange with yellow flowers on it. The other dude’s tie is the same thing in green. Each wears a small black name badge. Elder this and Elder that.

“Hey, elders.” Leesie ushers them into the room. “This is Michael.”

I put down the brownie and stand, shake their outstretched hands. The orange tie guy’s got a good grip. Commanding. Elder Smith. The other guy. Elder Jensen, barely touches me.

They sit. Leesie gives them brownies. Elder Smith takes a bite of his. “These are great, Sister Hunt.”

“Help yourself to more.”

Elder Jensen does—he’s already inhaled his entire brownie.

Elder Smith puts his down and says, “Well, Michael”—oh, man he’s got one of those fake salesmen voices that I loathe—“Sister Hunt tells us you’re here from Thailand. You don’t look Thai.”

“I just work there.”

Leesie sits up straighter. “He’s a scuba instructor.”

“Cool.” Elder Smith leans back and takes a bite of his brownie. “So I should have studied up on fish instead of Buddhism.”

I grin. “Know anything about Shinto?”

Elder Jensen swallows. “Where do they do that?”

Elder Smith glares at him. “Japan. My brother went to Japan. Crazy stuff going on there. Heavy into ghosts.”

“That’s right. Mormons don’t like ghosts.” I look at Leesie. “But you’re great at angels.” I take a hold of Leesie’s hand.

Smith’s eyes fasten on our interwoven fingers. “What do you know about angels?”

“That they aren’t all in heaven.”

He gets hot—actually blushes. “You don’t really want to talk to us, do you?”

My eyebrows lift. “It wasn’t my idea.”

Leesie draws her hand away.

Smith chucks his brownie on the table, but keeps his voice smooth, controlled. “You’re doing this for her? Going through the motions.”

“I promised I’d listen.” My eyes go to Leesie, but she’s staring at her empty hand.

Smith leans toward me. “But you won’t really listen, will you?”

“Freak, you people are annoying.”

“I’ve just seen too many guys like you.” His hand balls up into a fist. “All promises. No action. No feeling. Do you guys even have hearts? My sister married a jerk like you.” His voice breaks. He stops to get his emotions under control. “I’m sure you love Sister Hunt—as much as somebody like you can love somebody—but you don’t really care about her.”

I sit forward, scowl. “How the hell do you know?”

Leesie takes my hand back. “Listen, Elder Smith, Michael and I have been through a lot together. Let’s just start with the First Vision. Book of Mormon. Come on guys, do your thing.”

“I don’t think so.” Smith turns to his companion. “Come on Elder Jensen, I guess it’s time to pack up our pearls. Nice meeting you.” They get up to leave.

Good. The pompous, self-righteous creep.

Leesie stands up. “What? No. You are not done. We waited a month for this appointment. Michael is going back to Thailand. You can’t be finished.”

“We’re not finished. He is. He knows what we look like now.” He turns to me. “Flag a couple of us down in Thailand if you really get serious.”

Leesie’s eyes go to me then back to Elder Smith. “What are you saying? You’re writing him off? You haven’t taught him anything.”

The dude frowns. “We’ve got a tight schedule. We can’t waste our time on guys who just want to mock us. We’re probably the only elders in the entire world who have that luxury.” I don’t like the way he looks back at Leesie.

“Sit down.” She points to the chair. “You are not finished.”

I stand next to her and take her hand. “It’s okay, Leese.”

“No! It’s not okay.” She squeezes my hand—hard. “They are supposed to teach you. Joseph Smith story—right now guys.”

Smith shakes his head. “Call us when he has ears.”

“He has ears now.” She clenches her teeth.

“Keep praying, Sister Hunt.” He shoots a glance at me that says, die vermin. “We’ve seen worse cases.”

She goes after them—grabs onto Elder Smith’s arm. He glares at her, and she lets go. “Michael has felt the Spirit. He just doesn’t know it. Tell them Michael. Your parents.”

How can she bring them up with these guys? “Leese. Stop it, now.”

“Please.” She looks at me and the elders. Her face is full of dreams crashing into rubble.

“I’m done with this.” I break past her and those goon elders, bust out the apartment, out of the dorm. How dare she? How dare they? How do they know what kind of guy I am?

Leesie comes after me—no coat and three inch heels, so she’s not all that fast. She yells, “Why did you do that?”

I stop, pivot, and advance on her. “Me? I just sat there and the creep started attacking me.”

She jabs a finger into my chest. “You could have been nice.”

“How was I mean?”

“You made fun of them.”

I shake my head. “I called you an angel, and it freaked the guy out. And don’t think hauling out my dead parents is going to make me believe this crap.”

She steps back. “They were right.” Her lips tremble. “Oh my gosh, they were right.”

“No, no. That guy was too full of himself to see anybody else.” I grab her elbow and pull her closer. “You didn’t see the way he looked at you.”

“That’s stupid.” She rips her arm free. “He’s an elder. Girls are off limits.”

“And he’s obviously feeling the pain.”

She flushes red. “Shut up. Now you’re getting vulgar.”

“Maybe I am vulgar. Hopeless case.”

She steps back. “You aren’t even trying. At the pool, I stuck it out.”

“That’s because I’m teaching you”—I reach for her—“with every ounce of love I can muster.” She lets my hands settle around her waist.

“What do you mean? I love you.” Her face softens, and her voice drops. “But the elders—”

“You teach me.” I kiss her temple.

“I can’t—”

“Why not?” I pull her in close and whisper, “You live it. You know this stuff cold. Lay it on me—right now.”

She tips her head back. “You’ll just say it’s a crazy lie.”

“Have I ever?”

“Yes.” Her eyes drop to our feet. Her shiny black heels and my Vans alternating in a pattern that speaks to both of us.

She whispers, “Don’t you remember that night you almost—”

I lift her chin, make her eyes meet mine. “You almost—”

She frowns. “We almost—that night we broke up—the first time?”

“Is that where we’re heading now?” I wrap my arms tight around her. “Is that what you want tonight? A break-up?” Maybe she paid those guys off to be nasty to get rid of me.

She shakes her head, breathing fast. “No. Of course not. I just want you to try like I’m trying.”

I exhale relief. “Then tell me what those two goons—”

“They were goons weren’t they.” Her eyes soften. “Just my luck to get rotten elders.” Her arms wrap me up.

“Maybe I was a goon, too.” She lets me kiss her. “I’ll listen to you.”

She squeezes my hand. “I can’t like this. All crazy. I’ll start talking, and we’ll end up making out.”

I kiss her again. “Then this night will end way better than I dreamed it could.”

I try to keep kissing her, but she turns her cheek. “No. Let’s see. We need—” strains of music, lots of youthful voices singing a churchy song reach us. Leesie herds me toward the swelling sound. “We need an opening hymn.”

We end up in the long tunnel that leads from the Marriot Center, where they play basketball, have rock concerts, and religious guys come and speak to all 30K students every Tuesday, back down to the lower campus. The tunnel is packed with freshmen like Leesie, hundreds of them, and they are all singing hymns. Four part harmony. A capella.

I stand behind Leesie with my arms around her waist, my hands clasped in front of her. She puts her hands on my arms, snuggles in to me to keep warm, and sways gently with the regular beat of the hymn.

I listen, bored, for a couple of songs. I bend down and whisper, “Stop stalling. Can we go?”

She holds up one finger. “One more—please?”

The next hymn begins, “I know that my Redeemer lives.”

A tremor runs through Leesie. Holding her like that I can’t help but feel it.

“What comfort this sweet sentence gives.”

The tone of the singing takes on an intensity it didn’t have before. They mean this one.

“He lives, He lives who once was dead.”

The girl in my arms is an ethereal being again. I look at her delicate, pale hand resting on my rough tan arm. I feel like I shouldn’t even touch her. She’s pure—and me? Who knows? I could be seriously diseased. Definitely not good enough for her. I’ll never be good enough for her. I notice the pale nail print scars I left behind on her hand. She loves me. She’s mine. I must be doing something right. I don’t care what anyone says, what anyone does, she’s going to be mine for the rest of our lives.

Leesie’s singing, but she’s struggling with emotion. My eyes get wet. Thousands of voices reverberate in the tunnel.

“He lives to wipe away my tears.

He lives to silence all my fears.”

There is power here. Strange to me. Not of this world. I can’t deny it. Can I share it? Can it be a part of me like it’s a part of Leesie?

The hymn ends and the feeling wanes. Leesie lifts up her shoulders, and I bend down and kiss her hair.

The next song starts. It’s upbeat—almost military.