Falling Angel (Part 3)
by Pepperlandgirl
Posing as my father, I called Melissa’s school to find out her schedule. It turned out that she had a free sixth period.
“Can you give Melissa a message?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Will you tell her that I’ll pick her up today at 1:30. In front of the school Thanks.” With that, I hung up and took a deep breath. I had taken the first step towards contacting my family.
Melissa is a very bright girl. She had always been a good listener, and the best at keeping secrets. I hoped that she hadn’t changed drastically in the past two years. Now would not be a good time to find out that she had executed a 180.
My plan was simple: to meet with Melissa, secretly, and ask her how everybody was, catch up with her life. Then, decide what to do with the rest of the family.
It occurred to me that I didn’t have to tell my family about my new religious status, and if they asked about Europe, I could edit my story heavily. But I knew that if I lied to them it would basically negate the past two years and everything I held to be true. If I lied to them, they would believe that I was the same Angel that left them, and I’m not that person at all anymore.
Full of nervous energy, I showered and got dressed. I carefully pressed the wrinkles out of clothes, combed my hair, and flossed my teeth. I didn’t want Melissa to think I was some sort of bum. I battled with myself over putting a fresh pack of cigarettes in my shirt pocket, but ultimately the habit won. Besides, after talking to Melissa, I’d probably need them.
I checked my wallet to make sure I had enough cash for gas and some food. I’d been using my mission money for the necessities, food and board. For everything else I did odd jobs in cafes, stores, and people’s homes. I had found quickly that a young, strong man too naïve to demand a fair wage is always in demand in Europe. I also made a few really good friends — one of which actually paid for a round-trip to the States when I admitted I wanted to see my family again. When I protested that he didn’t have to pay for a round-trip ticket, he said, “So you can come back if things don’t work out there.”
I had enough cash, but I knew I couldn’t afford the motel for too much longer. Probably just another night. I was running out of time and money.
I left my room at one, my heart in my throat, my midsection full of butterflies. Would she recognize me? If so, would she even want to talk to me?
I pulled in front of the school at 1:25. I got out of my car so she could see me. The school hadn’t changed much, except they’d added a wing. Also, the parking lot had expanded. Before I graduated the parking lot was not only smaller, it was also halfway empty most of the time. There just weren’t many students, and most of them dropped out at an early age anyway. Of course, before Utah started booming due to the 2002 Olympics, people simply moved away.
I’d had a teacher who I’d adored. His name was Mr. Peterson. I wondered if he still taught, if he remembered me at all. I longed to go the classrooms, for old time’s sake, and talk to my old teachers. But I simply didn’t have the time to thank them for teaching me so much. Mr. Peterson in particular made a huge difference. So many of the things he worked into the conversations in English class I used while in Europe. He really gave me an education I could use.
Lost in thought, I almost didn’t see Melissa until she walked right by me.
“Melissa!” I called.
She stopped and turned around. At first she looked at me inquisitively, then her eyes widened as she realized who’d called her name.
“Angel?” She asked softly.
“Hi, Melissa,” I responded.
She gave a squeal of delight, and launched herself in my arms. I hugged her tight, so happy to see her again.
“How’s my favorite girl?” I asked.
“Oh Angel! I’ve missed you so much. Why didn’t you write?” she demanded.
I felt my heart breaking, because I’d written her at the first of every month. “Why don’t we go get some ice cream and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Great! Have you seen Mom or Dad yet?” She inquired as she slid into the car.
I shook my head. “No, not yet. How are they?”
The car started smoothly, and I pulled out into traffic. “They’re…well…they’re getting old.”
“What do you mean?”
“They used to be so active before…”
“You mean, before I left?”
“Well, yes. But now, they rarely go out anymore with their friends, or to any Church functions. Dad’s in the Bishopric now, so that does keep him pretty busy,” She told me.
“What does he tell people about me?”
She shrugged. “Not much. Hey, turn at this intersection, there’s a new coffee shop you might like.”
I arched my eyebrow. “Since when do you drink coffee?”
She smiled sheepishly. “I know I shouldn’t, but I’m addicted to those iced Mochaccinos.”
“Well, I won’t tell on you. What about Beth?”
“She’s very, very active in school and church. I don’t think she even has a free moment to herself anymore! She’s a cheerleader, on the debate team, in the play, Young Women President, and keeps up an A average,” Melissa revealed.
“Well, she’s always been pretty amazing. Both of my sisters are. Is this it?”
“Yeah, and we beat the after-school rush! This place is pretty popular.”
“Do Mom and Dad know you come here? That doesn’t sound like something they’d allow.”
She shrugged again. “They never asked.”
“Well, if this is all you do, I guess you’re not too much of a rebel.”
“Tell me about your life. Where have you been? Why did you wait so long to come back?”
I ordered her iced Mochaccino and an espresso for myself. “I’ve been Europe.”
“Wow! Where in Europe?”
“I started in England. One day in a museum I ran into a bunch of German students. We got to talking and it turned out they were backpacking across Europe. They invited me to join them. So I finished their tour with them, and one of them invited me to stay with him awhile. So I traveled a lot, but his apartment was always my ‘home,’ so to speak,” I told her.
“Can you speak any German?”
“Hmm, Ich spreche Deutch. Wie Geht’s?”
“What did you just say?”
“I speak German. How are you?”
She laughed, “How do you say, ‘I’m Fine’?”
“Mir gut.” I responded.
“Why didn’t you write me?”
I sighed. “Melissa, I wrote you and Beth on the first of every month, no matter where I was. Sometimes I sent you gifts, or postcards as well.”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “I never got anything from you.”
“Mom and Dad probably intercepted the mail,” I explained.
She slapped her cup on the table hard enough to make the centerpiece shake. “That really makes me mad. What gives them the right to go through my mail?!”
The whole conversation was breaking my heart in ways I couldn’t describe. I missed her and Beth so much. I wanted to see Beth lead a cheer, and act in the play. I wanted to meet Melissa’s boyfriend and help her with her homework. Most of all though, I wanted to know why my parents hated me so much, how they could hate me so much.
“I’m sorry, Melissa. I really and truly am. I never meant for things to spin out of control like this. I never meant to make them so…so…angry and I certainly never meant to lose you, or hurt you,” I tried to explain.
“Then why did you?” She asked quietly, her eyes focused on her nearly empty cup. My espresso still sat untouched.
“Because it was time for me to grow up. It was time for me to act like an adult.”
“But that’s what your mission is for,” she cried.
“I couldn’t go on a mission, Melissa. I needed to experience life and a freedom that I couldn’t have if I had gone on a mission or straight to school. I felt like an imposter in my own life.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t expect that you would. Not now anyway. Perhaps one day, though, you will. When you’re older.”
“I hate it when people say that! Like I’m a child.”
I laughed, “No, you are not a child. And yet, you are not an adult. What are you? A wonderful young woman, and you will understand me one day,” I promised her.
She smiled. “Are you back for good?”
It was my turn to shrug. “I don’t know. Believe it or not, I do have a life in Europe, friends, and even a girlfriend. But you and Beth are here.”
“And mom and dad.”
“Yes, them too. But would they really welcome me back with open arms? Especially since I’m not the man who left here two years ago.”
“You don’t seem very different to me.”
“Yes, well, I am. On a lot of different levels,” I informed her.
“Angel, I don’t think they would want to see you again,” she confessed. She looked down at her drink again, and when she looked up, tears stood in her eyes. “I missed you so much, and we both love you. But I don’t know if you would have a life here. If it wasn’t for Beth and me, would you have any reason to stay here?”
“No,” I said simply.
“You should be where you’re happy. How long will you be here?”
“Not long,” I admitted, “it took a long time for me to build up the courage to talk to you, and now I don’t have much money left.”
“I think you should go,” Melissa said quietly.
“Why?”
“Because Beth never stopped missing you, and it might kill her if you come for just a day, and then leave again.” Now the tears were visibly, yet silently, running down her cheeks.
“Do you wish I hadn’t stopped to see you?” I asked gently.
She shook her head. “No, I needed to see you were OK. I needed to know what happened.”
“I’m going to keep writing you. I’ll think of some way to get the letters to you.”
She nodded.
“You’re very mature for your age, Melissa.”
She nodded again.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
She shook her head. “No, I planned on meeting some friends here anyway.”
“I don’t want to leave you again,” I whispered.
She tried to smile, “You need to be where you’ll be happy. I need you to be there.”
I got up and hugged her. “When do you graduate?”
“Next June.”
“I’ll be here. I’ll come back here.”
“I love you, Angel. You were always the best big brother a girl could ask for. Even when you pulled my pig-tails I loved you.”
“Even when I made you eat a mud pie?”
“Even then.”
“Please, tell Beth I love her. And give her a hug for me. I’m sure you’ll think of some way to do it without tipping her off that I was here.”
“I will.”
I walked away then, because I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to do it if I waited longer. I could feel the tears well up inside of me. Family is so important, family has always been so important to me.
Yet, I found myself walking away again. And I didn’t look back.