A Treasure Worth Seeking
By: Shellie - shelliemg at gmail.com
Chapter 1Lauren hunted along the edge of her bed with her bare foot, positive that she’d taken both slippers off in that spot the night before. How one of them had managed to move in the middle of the night was a mystery. Finally giving up on her blind search, she sighed dramatically and dropped onto the floor to peer beneath the edge of her comforter. "Now how in the hell did it get way over there?" she grumbled, making her way around the bed on one slippered foot and one tiptoe. Sliding her foot into the fuzzy shoe she spun, vowing that before the day was through she was going sweep her entire house. Again. Whoever’s bright idea it was to put hard wood floors in a house at the beach had definitely not been the sharpest tool in the shed. But then again, the thought of sand in carpet…she guessed it was a no win situation.
Shuffling her way into the hall, she pushed Caroline’s bedroom door open a little and peered in. As usual, the child had kicked free of her cover before rolling over and drawing her knees up beneath her tiny body. The rump first view of her daughter always brought an amused smile to Lauren’s lips. Entering the room silently, she covered the girl again before heading back out and down the hall toward the kitchen. As she passed through the rooms, quiet and orderly, everything in its new place, she felt a moment of contentment, a feeling foreign to her for quite some time. It had taken days to get her belongings unpacked and it had been hard work. Surprisingly, however, she’d found the task of choosing just the right location for each item, each memory, each little bit of fluff that made her new house a home quite fulfilling. She felt connected with her home. She felt like she belonged, something she’d never felt when she’d lived with Steve. It had been his house, his furniture, his…everything.
She’d stayed up until the wee hours the night before unable to go to sleep when she knew she was so close to being finished. She was glad now that she’d made the small sacrifice. It was like waking up to a fresh start; everything in place and waiting for its new life to begin.
The morning’s pale white light filtered in through the kitchen’s many windows as she stood staring into the empty refrigerator with a frown. "I should still be in bed," she grumbled letting the door swing closed, "It’s way, way too early for me to be up." But the complaint had no real substance. She had always been an early riser, and even after late nights she was usually up before eight, if not earlier. Adding ‘go to Grocery Store’ under ‘sweep entire house’ on her mental list of things to do, she turned and left the room, roaming back through the quiet house, basking in its peacefulness. It belonged to her. She and Caroline and no one else. There was no one to tell her where to work, when to work, and what to work on, no one to tell her what social engagement to go to, on what date, in what gown, no one to tell her that her career, her hobbies, her decisions were worthless and unimportant. Freedom. Independence. Solitude. So what if the last one was a little bit scary.
Moving through the living room and out onto the large back porch that spanned the house’s width, Lauren stopped at it’s edge, fuzzy toes hanging off the top step as she stared out across the ocean. She loved this place. Every year as a child her family had vacationed here, renting one of the houses along the beach at summer’s end. She’d spent hour upon hour playing in the sand, burying herself in it, or building castles that hadn’t been anything more than buckets of dirt packed tight to hold their shape, then flipped carefully so they came out in one piece. Her father would wade out in the water pulling her on her raft. As night settled, they’d gather around the campfire making Smores. Then her father had passed when she was only 14 and the trips to the beach had stopped, fading into the past. Her mother had remarried, and Lauren had acquired two stepsisters, whom she’d grown to adore and a stepfather that she tolerated. They went on vacations each year but never to the beach. Secretly, a part of her suspected that it was actually done intentionally by her mother, a preservation of the memories of her father.
That was the past, Lauren sighed, and although those times would always hold a special place in her heart, this move was about the future, about a new beginning to a new life. A new life that she would start in just a few minutes, but first she just wanted to sit and be. Walking to the swing mounted at the opposite end of the porch, Lauren sat down, turning sideways to prop her slippered feet on the armrest. Leaning her head against the chain, she let her eyes droop closed, enjoying the cool morning breeze. The swing rocked slightly and she sighed, trying to relax her muscles that ached from days of unpacking.
After several moments she opened her eyes to stare down the beach, still free of people this early in the day. She’d chosen her home in an area where the beach houses were owned by year-round residents instead of vacationers and tourists. Although there was still the occasional wanderer or random family, generally the beaches here stayed quiet, used mostly by residents and their families.
In the distance, the first wanderer of the day came into view, walking slowly in her direction. His pace was leisurely, almost lethargic, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. The shores steady breeze caused his shirt to billow behind him like a mariner’s sail. His head hung low and his feet were dragging in the wet sand. ‘He’s sad,’ she thought, ‘or lonely. Maybe both.’ Sending the stranger a wry smile she sighed. ‘Yeah…you and me both.’
Easing her foot onto the floor she pushed herself, the old swing creaking as it moved. She watched the man as he neared, his frame becoming clearer but his demeanor remaining the same. He stopped a short distance away, more behind her neighbor’s home than her own, and turned toward the ocean staring out across the waves. ‘Do you have your memories too? Are they good ones like mine? Are they bad ones…like mine?’
He was taller than she’d first suspected, leaner. His jeans were rolled up in one large roll and the bottom of the denim was wet as if he’d been hit by one of those waves that surges well past the others to surprise you when you’re not expecting it. Sand clung to his ankles and feet and his hair fluttered wildly in the wind, standing up in chunks for several seconds at a time before falling back into place to wait for the next gust. He stood like that for ages, gazing out into the horizon, thinking, dreaming, praying…she wondered what. Then he turned, searching the sand around him until he found a broken piece of shell. He pulled back then pushed forward, pitching the shell far out into the water where it disappeared, followed soon by another and another. Wishing the lonely stranger well, she stood and went inside.
* * * * *
"Dat’s de broom, Mommy."
"I know…and one day you’re gonna know how to use it, Sweetie."
The child beamed up at her mother until a soft knock on the front door beckoned her in that direction. Lauren leaned the broom against the wall and headed down the hall after the child, glancing in the mirror next to the door as she approach. She winced. ‘Great.’
Before she had a chance to do anything about her appearance, the door was swinging open and her daughter was pressing on the screen door to open it as well. It stopped when it hit the man standing on her porch. "Caroline, stop." She picked the girl up by her underarms, sitting her back inside the house before glancing up at her guest. For the first time since the day her child was born, she was awestruck. Staring… barely breathing, she stood, her eyes locked through the screen with those of the stranger on her porch. Caroline slid between her legs once again pushing against the screen. It pressed against his face, flattening his nose and breaking the spell, causing them both to smile. He stepped back and Caroline continued with the door until it was standing wide open. She stood, looking up at the two expectantly.
His eyes dropped to the envelope in his hands before meeting Lauren’s again. "Uh…you wouldn’t happen to be Lauren Thornton, would you?"
"Y-yes, why?"
"Oh, um…it looks like your mail accidentally got forwarded to my address. I live next door," he motioned towards the next house over with the mail he was holding. "Before I sent it back, I thought I’d see if it was yours since you just moved in."
She reached for the envelope in his hand and dropped her eyes to inspect the yellow strip across the front. 8704 Summerland Street. Her address was 8706. ‘Damn.’ "I’m sorry, I must have filled out the forwarding form incorrectly," she looked back up at him with a grimace.
The stranger shrugged, "Hey, it’s no big deal. I’m Josh, by the way, but I guess you already knew that."
She raised her eyes curiously, "Why would I know that?"
This time it was his face that was curious, "Oh, um…just the way you looked at me. I just assumed you recognized who I was. My bad. Either way, I’m Josh just the same." He began to back away, "Anyway, uh…welcome to the neighborhood…or beach or…whatever."
She smiled and waved the envelope apologetically, "I’m sorry about this. I’ll get it fixed as soon as I can but you may be getting my mail for a few days."
He smiled as he stepped backward off her front porch, "Well…then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow."
"I guess so. "
He was gone.
* * * * *
"Um. Uh. Uh. Um. Could you possibly sound more like a fucking moron?" JC shook his head in disgust as he mumbled his way back into his home. He slammed the door hard behind himself. "‘I’m Josh, but I guess you already knew that.’ Why didn’t I just say, Hi, I’m an arrogant bastard." And he had to go back tomorrow. And the next day…
Sailing through his darkened home, he threw himself onto his sofa and pouted, glaring at the television. Total Request Live was on. Matthew Cade, the show’s current host, was making some witty comment about Aaron Carter’s latest drama. Frowning, JC decided he liked the show better when Carson Daly had hosted. Or course, he’d spent a lot more time actually on the show back then as well. He wondered for a moment what Carson was doing these days. Suddenly his attention was drawn back to the screen, now filled with JC’s own face scrunched in anguish as he belted out the first verse of Nsync’s latest ballad. Sitting up on the sofa he squinted at the tv and cursed. ‘Todays Close Call’ scrolled mockingly across the bottom of the screen. It might as well have said. Kiss your ass goodbye. You can’t even make the top ten anymore. Next thing you knew they’d be regulars on TRL Wannabe’s.
"Fuck you," JC growled at the screen tossing the throw pillow from behind his head, jarring the tv and knocking a vase filled with shiny marble rocks to the floor. The vase shattered sending the blue iridescent spheres scattering in every direction. Frustrated he dropped his head back onto the couch and clenched his eyes closed. Sarcastically, he mocked himself, "I’m Josh, but I guess you already knew that."
Hours later he woke. Nighttime filled the room around him. A cool breeze flowed in though the open windows. He sat up, staring, wondering momentarily where he was before reality hit. It was always close at hand, the pressure, the sadness, the deadline. Two months. He had sixty days to decide on the direction of his future. Sixty days to make the most important decision of his life.
Sighing, he stood, feeling the weight of his dilemma again settling over him like a lead shroud. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere but here. Day after day he’d longed for freedom, for peace, for rest. Now he had them, possibly an eternity of them, and all he wanted was to be back there, just one day, just one night, just one show. The screams of the fans seemed to echo through the house, haunting him, mocking him. This is what you had, they shouted, this is what you may never have again.
Shaking off the thought, he headed for the kitchen, scrounging through the cabinets, cursing himself for sleeping the afternoon away instead of going to the grocery store as he’d planned. But then again the sleep was good. He hadn’t been able to sleep for several nights in a row so every little bit he did manage to get was for the best. He needed a clear head to make sure he made the right decision, and not sleeping for days on end wasn’t going to keep it that way. Grabbing the only decent combination of food he had left, peanut butter and Ritz crackers – if you could actually consider that decent – he settled down at the small breakfast table on the far side of the room. It sat in a tiny nook that jutted out from the edge of the house and, as most outer walls were in the houses along the beach, it was surrounded by a series of windows, his faced his new neighbor’s home.
The perfect little family had apparently settled in next-door, a beautiful child, the wife doing wifely things. Her husband was probably off making big bucks at some company, making enough for her to stay at home with the baby. A sense of longing filled JC, one that was not only unfamiliar, but left him feeling somewhat uncomfortable. He’d spent the past two years telling himself that he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. After the whole nasty debacle with Bobbie, he’d made the decision that he was going to concentrate on his music and the group. He had figured that one day, when things settled down, the right girl would come along. Someone young and beautiful that stared up at him adoringly and wanted nothing more than to make his life complete. Now he was alone, the group was falling apart, he felt at times like he was barely holding things together himself and he was, having to do it on his own. His group mates had all managed to find someone or something along the way to help them through times like this. Justin had Britney, Chris and Danielle were engaged, Lance was married to his business and Joey…well, Joe definitely wasn’t lonely. He never had been. Lucky bastard. "But here I sit, staring at my neighbors home and wishing it was my wife with dust on the tip of her nose." He snorted shoving a mushy cracker into his mouth chewing slowly. "JC…buddy, you’re losing your damn mind."
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