The cafe buzzed with conversation, the constant drone now commonplace. Chemelyn had spoken the truth regarding business; it was better than ever. The airy corner shop had been miraculously restored, it’s decor possessing greater charm than expected. Walls which had once been demure beige before the fire were repainted warm yellow. The lamp shades hanging over each table had been removed in favor of sconces, providing soft light in the establishment. Alternating with the lighting fixtures were Chemelyn’s trademark black and white photographs of the city. As always, a plethora of indoor plants added an inviting quality to the cafe’s atmosphere, making customers comfortable to settle back for several hours on end. The java attracted hurried businessmen, while the salads and croissants lured the shopping crowd. Diehard Seattlites flocked to through the doors, seeking good conversation over a cappuccino.
In the midst of it all were two individuals with an affinity for Seattle, lattes, and one another.
“Am I going to have to drag the gory details from you?” Malone asked, as he added a dollop of whipped cream to a mocha. Chemelyn shot him a disapproving glance.
“If there were anything to tell, I certainly wouldn’t be shouting it over the whir of an espresso maker for half of the city to hear!”
Malone shrugged indifferently. “How was the zoo?”
“Extraordinary! We rode an elephant named Ramona.”
“And this was after how many drinks?” he raised an eyebrow skeptically. The woman beside him laughed and shook her head before claiming a tray and moving toward the nearest table.
Malone contemplated his best friend with unsurpassed curiosity. The change in her was unbelievable. The past three months had been spent in sullen misery, the slightest mention of Howie likely to bring a torrent of tears, frustrations, and infamous ‘what if’ questions. Chemelyn had been a shell of her old self and Malone had come close to committing her on several occasions. What puzzled him more than anything else was the impact Howie had on her life. Chemelyn had always struggled with an inferiority complex, quite possibly brought on by her father’s untimely death. Though she had, he thought, healed adequately, it was apparent that Howie’s influence and presence in her life served to help more than Malone’s words ever could. He wondered fleetingly whether or not Chemelyn had a similar effect on Howie.
“Hey Malone.” came a familiar voice to his ears.
“Hi Howie. How’s it goin’?” he greeted the other man with a smile. Howie responded in kind, trying unsuccessfully to locate Chemelyn. Malone, not missing his wandering eyes chuckled and nodded his head toward the sea of tables occupying half of the moderately sized cafe. “She’s out on the floor today.”
“Thanks.” Howie grinned sheepishly.
“No problem. So, Chemelyn looked happy this morning. I think it may have something to do with a certain stranger arriving back in town and once again sweeping her off her feet.”
“You think?” Howie laughed. “It’s good to hear I’m not the only one walking around with an expression of peaceful oblivion on my face.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
A pair of soft lips pressed against the side of Howie’s neck, caressing his skin tenderly. His eyes drifted shut even as she murmured a ‘hello’ in his ear. “Good morning,” he whispered in reply.
“And to you.” her breath was warm, sending shivers down his spine. “Thank you again for last night.”
“Your welcome. Come around here so I can kiss you properly.” A giggle escaped Chemelyn as Howie took her hands from where they rested on his shoulders, pulling her in front of him. She settled comfortably in his lap, looping her arms around his neck. Gently, Howie brought his forehead to rest against hers, loving the way her bright green eyes bore into his own. Lightly, their mouths met in a sweet kiss which left both breathless and desperate for more. As they pulled away, Chemelyn let her cheek rest alongside Howie’s, perfectly content to remain in his embrace.
Malone smiled as he observed all of this and rested his elbow on the counter, propping up his chin in the palm of his hand. Life was beautiful. Love was beautiful.
“Mom’s gonna flip when she sees what a gem you’ve found, Chem.”
“Hmhmm...” came the absent reply, “Too bad she’s out of town.”
“No, she’s back. You’ll see her tonight, remember?”
“What?!” Chemelyn’s head whipped to face Malone. “Tonight?” Her best friend sat up quickly with a groan.
“Please tell me you didn’t forget,” he begged her. “Please?”
Chemelyn’s eyes grew round and filled with remorse. “Oh, that was tonight.” she murmured as she visualized her calendar in her mind.
“You forgot,” Malone’s hands cut through the air wildly in a gesture of despair. “What happened to that day planner I bought you for your birthday, huh? Tell me you’re still coming.”
Chemelyn turned to Howie, raising an eyebrow. “Feel like dining out this evening?”
*****
“This is it.”
“Wow. I didn’t know they really had places like this.”
“Sure. Malone tried to talk me into buying one instead of the loft when I first moved here.”
“Have I mentioned I get sea sick on occasion?” Howie asked, voice tinged with worry. Chemelyn laughed and squeezed his arm reassuringly as they stood outside of the cab gazing at the unusual community.
“Don’t give it another thought. You can’t even feel the waves once you’re in the house.”
The couple navigated their way along the floating boardwalks, weaving in and out of a giant collection of house boats, each as diverse as it’s owners. The entire ‘village’ was afloat on the waves of the Lake Union, a large expanse of blue replacing the front lawns of the homes. It looked just like a commonplace suburb except for the fact that the foundations were made of water. Smaller boats were tied at sporadic intervals on the boardwalks, obviously belonging to several of the residents. The skyscrapers of Seattle were visible on the near horizon, as sailboats coasted along the opposite shore.
“There’s Rebecca’s place,” Chemelyn indicated a sizable residence, it’s exterior painted a soft yellow with white trim. Windows occupied most of the west side, facing the picturesque seascape.
“Rebecca is Malone’s mother?”
“Yes. Rebecca and Malone became my pseudo family after my father’s death. Both she and my parents moved out here following my own relocation. I guess they just missed their children,” she shrugged as they continued to trace the path of the boardwalk, quickly approaching the front door.
“Malone moved to Seattle after you bought the cafe, right?”
“Right. I should probably warn you, Rebecca is-”
“Chemey!” A shriek interrupted them as the door to the yellow house was thrown open, revealing an older woman with her arms extended toward the pair.
“-unconventional.” Chemelyn finished before allowing herself to be swallowed up in the other woman’s arms.
“I’m so very glad you came, my dear! Oh! And you’ve brought a guest! How lovely. Come in, come in, children. Don’t be shy.” As the invitation was extended, Howie took the opportunity to observe his host. The woman, though she appeared to be around sixty, carried a youthful air about her which was positively contagious. Swathed in a brilliant crimson wrap, in the traditional Indian style, the gauzy fabric floated around her ankles, swishing softly. Her feet were bare, exposing fire engine red toenails and several silver rings as well as an anklet set with pua shell. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with untold secrets, a mass of white hair gathered at the crown of her head. Rebecca was enchanting. “More than likely, Chem has already told you my name, but I’ve yet to know yours,” she addressed him with a smile.
“Howie Dorough, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh! He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he, Chemelyn?” she cast a glance at the young woman she considered a daughter. “Malone said as much.” With a wink, she patted Howie’s hand in a motherly fashion and led the two into the depths of the house. “However, if you expect to live to see dessert you’d best forestall the formalities and refer to me simply as Rebecca.”
Malone’s voice wafted to them from the kitchen, “And believe me, you do NOT want to miss the finale to her dinner! It’s to die for!”
The new arrivals were ushered into the house, issued glasses of wine and were instructed to make themselves at home as the finishing touches were placed on their meal.
Howie gazed about him in wonder. From the outside, one would never guess that the yellow home contained a down scaled version of the Amazon rain forrest. Tall plants and small potted trees adorned the living room, it’s walls painted the color of rich green of foliage. Even the apolstery bore splashes of color in the form of exotic flowers. Upon closer inspection, two of the wall expanses were actually murals which, Howie guessed, had been painted by an extraordinary artist. If he hadn’t known better, Howie would have believed he was on vacation in Brazil. The room held an startling depth of field; the entire effect was sensational.
“This is amazing,” he finally breathed.
“Isn’t it? It never ceases to astound me. Rebecca’s done so much to this place; she’s quite the interior designer.”
“Do you think she’d do my condo?” Howie asked with a teasing grin. Chemelyn laughed and shook her head.
“You should see the kitchen.”
“May I?” he inquired, unable to disguise his intrigue. The foray into the other room was like stepping onto the Asian continent and into Tibet. The breathtaking scenery and Buddha temple illustrated on the walls were magnificent. Coupled with the rest of the decor, Howie was awe struck. “Is the entire house like this?”
Indeed, it was, as Chemelyn took Howie on a complete tour, ending in the dining room where a lavish feast had been prepared. The four seated themselves on overstuffed tapestry pillows, positioned around a low black lacquered table. Floating candles burned softly in the midst of a shallow glass bowl in the center of the table; a pair of formal chopsticks lay next to each plate.
Malone must have read the surprise on Howie’s face regarding the unorthodox dining arrangement, because he said with a smile, “Mother has just returned from a trip to the Orient. Japan, China, and Thailand are richer for her having visited.”
“Oh, Malone! Hush!” Rebecca laughed, then leaned toward Howie conspiratorially, “I didn’t spend THAT much on the trip, and you don’t hear him complaining about the beautiful gifts I bring home for my children!” she smiled affectionately at Chemelyn and Malone. “And you forgot India, my dear. Fascinating country. Have you ever been?”
“Unfortunately, no. But I’d love to experience the culture.”
“Oh! Now I know he’s perfect for you, Chem,” the older woman commented with a wink. “I suppose you know of her ambition to travel abroad?”
“Very well,” Howie replied, touching Chemelyn’s knee lovingly beneath the table. She covered his hand with her own before continuing to weld her chopsticks.
“He’s modest, Becca, but Howie’s been a great many places.”
Rebecca’s interest piqued, “And your favorite?”
“Paris in autumn....Rebecca, you have a stunning home, it’s quite beautiful.”
“Why thank you, my dear. Yes, I am rather fond of it.” the older woman sighed as a serene look passed across her face. “My husband would have loved it as well. He enjoyed vibrant colors even more than I do. Tell me, what do you think of the murals in each room?” she asked with a proud gleam in her eye.
“Breathtaking. You must have had a wonderful artist. In fact, Chem and I were joking about hiring the same person to do my condo in Florida,” Howie laughed, completely missing the glances exchanged by the other occupants of the table.
“Well, she’s sitting right there. Why don’t you ask her?”
As the meaning of Rebecca’s words sank in, Howie slowly pivoted his gaze to rest upon Chemelyn at his side. Her green orbs lowered to her plate, and she suddenly developed an unprecedented interest for the food before her. Smoothly, Howie cleared his throat, “How long have you lived here, Rebecca?” he questioned quietly. The conversation was up and running again, though Howie couldn’t help but cast his eyes in Chemelyn’s direction every few moments. Chemelyn was not oblivious to his actions, and while she tried to participate, an overwhelming feeling of guilt and regret welled up inside of her.
After dinner, Rebecca and Chemelyn retreated to the kitchen for clean up, as the two men settled in the living room for a time. The younger woman was immersed in soap bubbles up to her elbows and not a word was spoken for many minutes until Rebecca finally broke the silence.
“How do you feel about him?”
Chemelyn hesitated, before admitting the truth, “I love him.” Rebecca sighed happily.
“I knew. I just wanted to hear you say it. The two of you make quite an attractive couple, my dear.”
“Thank you.”
“But you won’t last another month if you don’t start opening yourself up to him.”
Shocked, Chemelyn abandoned the dishes to stare in surprise at woman who was her mother in every sense but blood. “What do you mean?”
“There is give and take in love. You’ve obviously been taking a great deal, with only a minimal amount of giving.”
“How can you say that?” Chemelyn asked, angrily. “We’ve written letters back and forth for months! He knows me better than anyone-”
“But he doesn’t know you entirely. You’re holding back.” Rebecca interrupted, extending a graceful finger in the other woman’s direction.
“I’ve told him everything!”
“Have you shown him?” The simple question was met with silence as Chemelyn contemplated her response carefully. “You must remember, welding a pen and paper is much easier than exposing your inner self in person. Things that are important to you must not be kept from one another in musty boxes. They should be allowed to mingle, allowed to openly enrich your life to the fullest. What purpose does keeping a part of yourself from Howie serve?”
A soft breeze wafted through an open window, carrying with it the light scent of the lake. The sun had long ago set, only the lights of the city and the other houses illuminated the dark night.
“I’m afraid of him, though not in the context you might think,” Chemelyn finally admitted. “His opinion means so very much to me, and......I’m frightened that once he sees the entire package, he may decide it’s not quite what he expected. My work has so much of ME muddled in, it’s just so hard......I want him to like......I want him to appreciate my canvases.”
“You don’t think he will? Does he love you?” Chemelyn nodded affirmatively, “Then he’s going to cherish what’s important in your life. Your ambitions, hopes, and dreams are as vital to him as they are to you. I have a feeling Howie wants to be a part of everything in your existence, good and bad. Treat him to the good, Chemelyn. Treat him to a breathtaking view of your spirit.”
The evening finished in good cheer, not a member of the party wanting it to come to an end. Rebecca’s advice lay heavily on Chemelyn’s mind the duration of their stay, even as she and Howie climbed into a cab on their way back to the loft. They sat comfortably together in the back seat, their hands clasped firmly, each with their own thoughts. When the yellow taxi pulled up alongside the building, Howie instructed the driver to wait as he walked Chemelyn to her door.
“You’re not coming in?” she asked softly, her tone anxious. Howie rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, attempting a smile.
“It’s been a long day, Chem.”
“Please, Howie....come in.”
“I really.....” he gazed into her upturned face, pleading with him to stay to spite his hurt.
“There’s something I want to tell you....and show you.”
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