Unbroken Connection (7 page)

LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM # 53, YES

Tawni’s snoozing so

I can’t meltdown:

I’d die if she caught

me sobbing in my pillow.

I grab my old fringed-up jacket,

the one Michael loved,

the suede still stained

from stumbling home in the blizzard

after our crazy night fight in the sow barn,

despite all the cash I dropped at the cleaners,

and creep out the back door,

hugging the leather across my heart,

twisting the fringe he fingered,

and walk along, following

the lights shining on the hill.

Why can’t we sever the link?

Reboot our lives in rhythm with reality?

Why does this feeling survive

every resetting? What power feeds it?

How can it keep growing in this thorny bed?

I don’t want to say, “no.”

I hate saying, “no.”

Yes, Michael. Yes. Yes. Yes.

The temple garden gate locks me out.

I turn and creep along the fence, peering

through the bars. The poor Provo Temple.

70s architecture, flat and round, glowing white

in the night. Not the majesty of DC or the history

of Salt Lake. Not even the pretty romance

of my own tiny temple in Spokane.

Workhorse. Busiest one in the world.

It draws me tonight and sings

a soothing song:

You’ll make it.

He’ll make it.

It won’t be easy.

You’ll need all your strength

And his.

And Mine.

I catch the melody.

Enfold it to my heart.

Sing it to myself as the tears

on my cheeks dry

in the high desert breeze

that blows life into me again.

Chapter 9

FAITHFUL

MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #10

D
IVE
B
UDDY
: solo

D
ATE
: 10/19

D
IVE
#:—

L
OCATION
: Khoa Lak

D
IVE
S
ITE
: rice shack

W
EATHER
C
ONDITION
: cloudy

W
ATER
C
ONDITION
: swells

D
EPTH
: over my head

V
ISIBILITY
: crystal

W
ATER
T
EMP
.: unchanged

B
OTTOM
T
IME
: 60 minutes

C
OMMENTS
:

She signed off. Left me. I’m not through with this. I’ve got another hour I can steal Wi-Fi before Claude shows for dinner. I don’t know when I’ll get online again this week with all the freaking junk I have to get done for my Captain’s papers. I need Leesie to know I’m not going anywhere.

I won’t be drowning my sorrows in easy Thai flesh.

I’m not wandering down to the beach to get off on that big-breasted German girl who was frolicking in the waves yesterday.

I won’t ask this little waitress for her number.

I’m Leesie’s. She’s stuck.

I start an email, but it sucks. I’ve given her all the promises I can. I trash it and start surfing for laptops. Load up my basket with tip-top stuff. Throw in a new cell, too. With an international plan billed to me.

Amazing what you can do on the net.

Hope she gets the message.

LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM # 54, EXPRESS DELIVERY

The bell tower chimes six

when I open the door.

No cooking smells tickle my nose.

No jabbering, no laughter, no high-pitched

voices defending their turf.

All five roomies sit round the table

Not eating—staring

at the white and orange express box

addressed to me.

Tawni’s eyebrows arch.

“You’ve been holding out on us.”

Dayla leans into defense. “I told

you it’s just from her parents or a grandpa.”

“Open it, Leesie,” the rest of them squeak.

“We’re all dying here.” Cadence hands me a dull steak knife.

I saw open the clear, plastic invoice pouch

pluck out the papers.

There’s a message at the bottom:

I need to keep you close.

Tawni snatches it and reads it out loud. “Hello,

Miss Righteous, what’s this about?”

“It’s Michael. My boyfriend.”

Tawni frowns. “You don’t have a boyfriend.”

I swallow and blink. “We’re together again.”

Roxi jumps up. “When do we get to meet him?”

Lily glares at me. “Do you owe us ice cream? Brownies?”

How they’d flip if I said it was banana splits.

I start sawing at box tape. “Maybe he’s hiding in here.”

I slit the tape—my knife gets gummed up—

switch to scissors that can’t slice fast enough,

drop them, and tear it open.

Pandora yields her secrets:

Shiny white laptop.

A monitor too big for my desk.

Ergonomic keyboard.

Wireless mouse.

Back-up dream thing.

And a magical phone.

I’m trying so hard not to snivel.

Who knew computer hardware

could be so devastatingly romantic?

“So your boyfriend’s loaded.”

Tawni’s comment, of course.

“Long story. I’m hungry.”

Roxi shakes her head. “Pizza.

We ordered. Start talking.”

Feels good to spill it.

Air the cupboards of my heart.

Explain the ache in his eyes that first

time he caught me staring.

Remember how he asked to kiss me—

how he wanted so much more.

“Not a member?” Dayla sees it right away.

I shake my head.

Roxi pats my hand. “Tough deal.”

“What’s the plan?” they chorus.

“Give him a chance—as long as it takes.

He’s been through so much. Still needs me.”

“Dangerous.”

“I know.”

“You could end up—”

“I know.”

“What are you going to do?”

A glance, a shrug, then a smile explodes my face.

“Fire up this baby and see if he’s waiting.

Anybody know what day it is in Thailand?”

LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 10/2 12:15 AM