Work In Progress

She was lying on the beach, and it was hot. But she loved the heat and, despite the SPF warnings, sought the sun to warm and darken herself.

Chloe squinted tightly as she sought the sunset beyond the blue seascape that yawned with the luxurious satisfaction of a day well spent. She had no idea of the exact time, but considered packing up and calling it a day. “Just five more minutes, until the sun sets completely,” she decided. Besides, Eddie had yet to return from his trip back to the room they shared at the resort.

It had been a fantastic vacation and Chloe was more than reluctant to return to the real world of work and annoyances. Nor did she want to leave the warmth and sun and face the reality and depths of a cold January in Ontario.

They’d got along quite well, she mused, given they hadn’t been a couple for long. She supposed, again, that she had been too willing, too eager to agree to this vacation. The ‘romance’ had yet to blossom between them; time would decide the outcome of their relationship. But Eddie had been a perfect companion and their intimate moments were, she smiled, admittedly fantastic.

Still, they had only known each other for three months, and she knew she had rushed headlong and likely unwisely, into his apartment, where she’d stayed for the past month. It had been so very long since she’d been in a relationship that the sparkle of fresh romance imbued her every moment in the whorl of excitement. She’d been too ‘easy’. But it’s what people did now, everyone she knew anyway. They were all coupled in the new normalcy of living together minus marriage.

Eddie found his way into her life by being a second cousin. Not to Chloe, but to her friend, Fara. Fara and Tim, her fiancé, had hosted a family gathering at the house they had just purchased and Chloe, who was nearly family, was invited. Initially, she hesitated, as social was something she didn’t currently feel. She’d just heard her aunt – her favorite – had been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. Chloe had spent most of her summers at Auntie Joan’s home right smack in farm country, in the heart of Ontario. Joan was her mother’s oldest sister, and had mothered her four younger siblings nearly as much as did their own mother. She was born to entertain, and she loved children. It was tragic, Chloe thought, that Joan and Ted had no children of their own. It must have been difficult reckoning with the news that Joan needed a hysterectomy at a surprisingly young age. Chloe knew no details as to what instigated the surgery, just that it happened, Joan braved her way through the loss and childless reality like all the Matthews did. Her mother’s family was rich with progeny. All the siblings, but Joan, had exactly three children – a boy and two girls apiece. Chloe knew that she herself couldn’t push through such a tragedy with an open and welcoming heart. Joan, however, didn’t seem to harbor any envy or resentment that she alone remained childless. Rather, she took to the situation by promising herself to be like a mother to all her nieces and nephews.

Hearing of Joan’s condition cut the legs out from under any personal happiness Chloe dared to claim. She had always lacked in self-confidence but, after a weight loss of 40 pounds, was less reluctant to socialize. The weight problem had hounded her through her entire life and she still felt the sting of the teasing and taunts from other children, yes; but also from those adults who felt the need to comment and, inevitably, said exactly the wrong thing, leaving Chloe embarrassed and devastated by the personal affront. She still didn’t understand how people – grown people – could be so unthinking and cruel.

The human condition. It was generally dire, she believed, but she had been ready to carve a tiny niche of light out of the miasmal personal terrain she inhabited.

While he was the latest of men who inserted themselves, bidden or unbidden, into her guarded world, Eddie didn’t feel like the forever kind. She didn’t know his intentions, but they just didn’t seem to have ‘it’. Guiltily, she often thought of him as her practice boyfriend, since he was the first to come along in a few years. Chloe had had unusually little experience with men. Luca.

***

Luca had been her first serious relationship. She was immediately captivated by his smoldering Mediterranean eyes, tan complexion and an unapologetic sincerity. She couldn’t believe he was interested in her. She was at her all-time best in those years, minus 45 pounds and swathed in the inimitable flush of youth. Chloe had embraced the beauty she had become firmly, and it took her places she would never have dared previously, meeting people who had once been her tormentors but now accepted and welcomed her into their fold.

“Who says looks and weight don’t matter?” she thought often. Because, clearly, in her experience, they certainly opened the pages to a new chapter in life.

Their fates had them sitting a row apart at university in a first year History class. Chloe’s eyes fell upon him immediately, as just the sort of Al Pacino-type she fancied but had never given her a second look. “Verboten,” she imagined, thinking about the German Reformation their ancient professor was currently describing. If only.

Midway through the lecture, she overheard the person who came to be her Luca, commenting something to the friend to his right. When they both started laughing, Chloe was all the more intrigued. Humor was her bailiwick. It was her ability to self-deprecate and laugh at herself and the state of the world around her that had saved her - hook, line and sinker – from the noise that insisted on erecting roadblocks along her life path. Gorgeous and a sense of humor. This person was custom-made for Chloe’s fantasies.

She found her way in every class to a seat behind Luca Di Angelo (she’d managed to see his name on his course duotang) and his mates. Sometimes she’d get to class quite a long time ahead of schedule and wait to see where the trio of them would sit then, nonchalantly, settle in behind them, sometimes having to squeeze by students at the end of her row to get pride of place. It was a near miracle that she got an A in that course, given her daydreaming while the Teutonic world was unfolding around her.

On an odd occasion she managed to catch his eye, and was rewarded with a “Hi” and a bit of a nod. Ever so achingly gradually, Luca or his friend would comment something to her, giving her a chance to unleash her wit – or attempt to flirt – in response. The flirts landed like a lead balloon, but her self-styled sardonic wit seemed to hit the group’s funny bone, and a regular repartee was born, leaving her breathless until she’d moved on to her next seminar.

Things were progressing, albeit slowly, between them. When he asked if he and his friends could borrow Chloe’s copious notes from a class they’d missed, her heart skipped many beats. She nearly flung her notebook at Luca, a noncommittal “Sure,” plastered on her lips. Progress.

Her investment of time and energy in plying Luca with her comeliness was cruelly suspended one day when another first-year girl sidled in between him and the friend to his left. Dumbstruck and immediately heart-broken, Chloe cried her way through the Italian Renaissance. And that person, that other girl, would be perched beside her paramour for every class. Their ex-cathedra hand-holding added insult to her cavernous injury.

The rest of that first year would have been a total heartache, but for Chloe’s fantastic performance in all her courses. The better she did, the more she studied and wrote, and the more she studied and wrote, the better she did. It was a salvo of sorts. Still, she eyed Luca from her new class seat sorrowfully, and his lady friend with venom until the term ended. She rarely saw him on campus but, when she did, her fantasy was whetted only to be obliterated when “She” accompanied him and his mates.

***

Weatherwise that summer was the best Chloe could remember. She spent most weekends at her parents’ cottage, sunning herself and swimming daily in the two-piece bathing suit to which she’d treated herself after her latest weight loss. With hair radiating sunshine, a tanned and slender body, Chloe knew she was at her all-time best. She doubted there would be improvement in her appearance beyond what she currently enjoyed.

The summer was all the more satisfying and exciting on dance nights. Cover and new bands from across the country played on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights in the rundown palladium. There were rarely any she missed, and she felt her first flush of social acceptance, dancing the night away with numerous partners. Chloe was a great dancer, with strong and natural rhythm that carried her through every kind of music. Those nights became almost sacred to her, and to miss one was near-travesty. It was on the dance floor, in her new body, strands of hair capturing the light of the patio lanterns, that Chloe felt free, in some ways wholly fulfilled.

She had never been so popular, but she never mixed with her new acquaintances off the dance floor. There, shyness and fear overcame her and she spent most of that ‘downtime’ in the Ladies’ Room where she listened to the titter of other, largely intoxicated females recounting their exploits and conquests of the evening.

June quickly evaporated into July that summer. Sometimes a visiting friend would join her at the dances but she usually went alone.

How could someone as shy and trepidatious as I have the courage to face such a crowd completely unaccompanied? Chloe could never answer that question, happy to enjoy the world that was swirling around her.

It was at the Friday night dance of the July Fourth weekend that it happened.

Chloe was clapping along with the crowd around the stage to one of her favorite songs, opting to listen instead of dance. At the song’s end, she turned to find a good-looking tousle-haired young man asking her to dance. They took to the floor immediately and she was happily moving to the music when she saw him. There, in the faint light of the area adjacent to the dance floor was Luca. Immediately she felt herself getting warm, and her breath all but stopped. She knew she was turning red and was glad to be cloaked in the dim lighting.

Was he alone? Trying not to be rude to her dance partner, she strained to see who was with him. One of the classmates from History class was to his left, chatting to a girl with wavy, short hair. Not Luca’s woman she was relieved to see. There was no sign of her or, in fact, anyone else. Luca was smoking one of his usual menthol cigarettes, dropping ashes onto the floor as people did back then. Occasionally, he’d turn to his friend, mutter something and all three of them would laugh.

Was God smiling on her? She imagined Him shooing her off the dance floor in the direction of Luca and would have liked to comply with the unspoken command, but HOW could she possibly work up the nerve to approach and, worse, WHAT was she going to say? About 17 opening lines raced through her mind, but she dismissed them immediately, knowing she hadn’t the nonchalance to attempt any of them.

Chloe’s heart was pounding so loudly she felt it in her ears, and was having trouble even swallowing like a normal human. She did the only thing possible; she fled to the Ladies’ Room.

Amid the idle and drunken chit chat she overheard was one voice she could tell was speaking between sobs to a friend. They had taken to a cubicle and, as the calm voice interjected between laments and sparks of anger, Chloe wondered if they really thought a cubicle door could muffle exactly what was being said.

The story came out quickly. The sobbing girl had just broken up with her boyfriend because she’d gone off into the dunes with another man. She was torn between her relationships, not wanting to hurt the current fellow she’d known from high school, but eager to relish the first glow of new love with the other.

Plucking up her own courage to face whatever lay ahead, Chloe took a few steps toward the exit, just as the two girls emerged from the cubicle. It was easy to tell which had been crying; it was easy to tell it was HER. Eye makeup smudged, the girl took to the mirror where she dashed water on her face, then dug in her bag for some cosmetics to touch up. She had stopped sobbing and was even smiling a bit at her friend.

Chloe felt a tinge of guilt for her glee in what had transpired – for the jilted beau mostly – but felt the pull of ecstasy. The jilted beau was Luca. They had all come to the beach as a group and rented a spot in the campground. Luca and she had arrived as a couple, but she had met someone just a few weeks before and had suggested the trip because he was going to be there. She felt an excitement with this new person that had died in her feelings for Luca and, after a long night in the dunes with her new love interest, had told Luca she wanted to move on. She had come to the dance with her new guy, never imagining Luca would attend since he was supposed to be licking his wounds and drowning in beer back at the campsite.

Luck. Luca. Alone. It was too good to be true, at least for Chloe. Things never unfolded so neatly in her direction, and she was uncertain how to proceed when she left the safety of the washroom.

But proceed she must.

She exited and, with a furtive glance in Luca’s direction, shrouded herself with the crowd. Her plan was to sidle past him, without recognition, get herself a drink then ‘accidentally’ see him on her way back to the crowd.

Then the most unbelievable thing happened.

It worked.

Luca’s smile of recognition was like manna from her Heaven. He was a bit the worse for the obvious consumption of many pints, but he was glorious. And he, along with his friend, drew her into their conversation, recapping the final exam and their respective marks (the friend had failed; Luca had just passed) and sharing their musical tastes and opinion of the band playing, and those scheduled for later in the summer.

Sadly, they had no plans to return to the beach again, both having secured jobs at the automotive factory that employed nearly every male in the province. In their hometown anyway.

Chloe was elated, euphoric in the camaraderie and what definitely seemed to be Luca’s interest in her.

And then he suggested dancing. Legs weak and as ‘come hithery’ as she dared, she accompanied him onto the dance floor. They caught the end of a popular rock song to which she could dance normally across from Luca. But then the band began a slow and very long song and she was in his arms.

Chloe wondered if he could feel the intense beating of her heart, or the fact her hands were shaking. As she tried to relax into the melody, she saw HER with what must be her new man. They appeared to be leaving.

She took stock of the fear and nervous anticipation that accompanied her back to the standing area. Wondering what to do next, she felt Luca’s hand guiding her to an open space beside his friend and what seemed to be his girlfriend. Nothing made sense because things were falling so neatly into place. Luca bought her a drink and they stood side by side, sipping. Drinks finished, Luca took her hand and headed back for some dancing.

And the night continued. And she was in what seemed an impossible virtual reality. It was hard to hear Luca’s voice over the music but it sounded like he were talking about another possible trip to the beach if he could get a three-day weekend. It was too good to be true, Chloe thought. This fairy tale had to end. Likely badly.

‘Stop it,’ she told herself, leaning into the outline of this story opening and engulfing her.

“I have to go,” Luca shouted into her ear, “but I had a really good time tonight.” Promising. “We’re heading home tomorrow morning, but I’ll see you later,” he said, then turned toward his friends. Chloe smiled inwardly as Luca kissed her cheek.

***

But when was later? Chloe pondered that constantly over the next agonizing days. Perhaps ‘later’ was back on campus. “That’s so far away,” she groaned. She now wanted the summer sprawling ahead of her to be over quickly so she could get back to school and, she dared dream, see Luca again. The summer was long with many weekends and plenty of opportunity for Luca to find another girlfriend. She didn’t dare dream.

But she could fantasize and picture herself and Luca in an endless sequence of History classes through the next three years. Chloe refused to think of all the possible obstacles the summer could throw into her romanticized version of the future. She tried but, inevitably, the roadblocks asserted themselves.

The summer now dragged on. She spent most weekends at the beach, and was a regular at the dances. On every night out, she hoped against hope she’d see Luca. By the end of August, she realized there would be no Luca. Still, there was school, and a possible reacquaintance to anticipate.

On Memorial Day weekend, Chloe packed her summer clothes and acquisitions and readied herself to drive home. School was calling as was the possibility of meeting Luca, she hoped minus a girlfriend.

There was a dance that Sunday night. Chloe dithered as to whether she wanted to go. It would likely be a sad occasion for her. The summer had been the best she’d ever lived despite her not seeing Luca again. At the last minute, she dug her denim skirt and sleeveless t-shirt out of her suitcase and, after dressing and primping, began walking to the palladium.

The band had already started. She was singing along to the distant melody while she walked from the cottage. It was a fairly big name band this last night. She should have brought something in her purse perhaps to get an autograph if these musicians were going to hit big, as she believed they were. So engrossed in thought was she that she tripped over a Coke bottle in the sand, landing on her right knee and immediately regretting wearing the tight skirt. Looking around, embarrassed and feigning laughter at herself, she picked up the bottle as she stood and carried it to the nearest trash basket. “Assholes.” She hated littering.

The sun was thinking about setting, she imagined. It was still shining through the clouds and casting shadows on the sand as she walked. Looking into it, she squinted her eyes, creating a hazy glow that reflected her thoughts of the long and languorous summer she had spent, more happily than any before.

She was gazing ahead to the blind spot the sun created before her when forms materialized in her line of sight. Startled, Chloe took a small step out of their direction, when she heard a voice.

“Hey, how ya doing?”

Taken aback, Chloe squinted a bit more to make sense of the voice and vision. It was Luca. And a friend. They were walking barefoot along the strand, towards her.

Luca. Panic. She hadn’t practiced anything to say. She felt the fear rising in her throat, but managed a fairly robust, “Hi. This is a surprise. I didn’t think you were coming back this summer.”

“We weren’t but we booked off work for the long weekend. I needed a break from The Motors before autumn hit. Last stretch before winter,” he said.

She remembered little of the night after that. Luca and his pal walked with her to the palladium and Chloe was lost in the improbability of it all. It was perfect. They chatted, and drank and danced and, by the last song, were acting like school kids.

“We’re acting like a bunch of stupid school kids, “ Chloe laughed.

“We are school kids,” Luca shouted immediately. “At least, we were.”

Chloe’s heart stopped. “Were?”

She wanted to ask, but didn’t want to hear what she feared might be the answer.

“Gary and I are staying on the job,” Luca explained when Chloe finally broached the question. “I owe a shitload in student loans already, and need to save a lot before I go back to school.”

Swallowing her very real tears, Chloe slowly responded, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“You’re going back, though, aren’t you?” Luca looked at her. His eyes were like black, shiny orbs and she felt her knees weaken under her. “Yes? Well, maybe we can catch up the next year,” he suggested.

Chloe couldn’t help herself. A tear threatened to fall down her cheek. She didn’t want him to see her vulnerability or unbridled feelings, but she couldn’t stop.

“Sorry. I just hate ‘goodbyes’,” Chloe nearly whispered. “Even temporary ones… .” Her voice trailed off.

Before she knew it, Luca had wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest.

“I know what you mean,” he said quietly. “I don’t want this night to end either.”

That wasn’t what she had said, but captured what she felt.

“Look ,” he said. “We’re heading back to the camp. Do you have to be anywhere? Parents here?”

“No,” she was quick to respond. “No, I’m fine here.”

Luca, Gary and Chloe headed back to the camp.

The baby arrived the following June.