BACK WITH YOU
Chapter Five

Santa Monica
Early March, 1931

With a cling sound, Jessamyn triumphantly closed the cash register and smiled. Finally, it was her lunch break! An hour to do whatever she wanted before it was back to work again. This dull, worthless job got more annoying and pointless by the day. What she really wanted was nothing more than to quit and make her living as an actress or writer, anything that was more glamorous or exciting than a waitress. But no, she was stuck here, forced into this little world of sandwiches and hungry adolescents. It was her fault, of course. She had dragged herself down here, and she realized that. But it was still tedious and she still wanted out.

Humming happily, she reached behind her dress and undid the apron stings. The boring white garment fell limp before she swiped it over her head and hung it on a nearby hook. She straightened her dress, pulled up one sock that had fallen down, and wiped some loose hair from her face. Her strawberry blonde hair fell loose from the disgusting hair net as she pulled the white mesh from her head and threw it in a nearby trashcan.

"I'm off, Billy," she called to her co-worker, who signaled her with a slight nod of his head. She laughed, and grabbed her purse and jacket from underneath the counter before she took off out of the little deli. She was dreadfully hungry, but after serving sandwiches and soup for the last four hours, she wanted something different. The sight of another ham-and-cheese sandwich would make her sick. Just the smell was enough to drive someone crazy after a while.

After leaving, Jessamyn crossed the street and started walking up the block to where she knew there was a nice little burger joint where she could get a good-sized salad for cheap. The sun was shining, but even so, it was cold for early March, as it had been for the past couple of weeks. Jessamyn pulled on her jacket as she walked. She hated the cold even more than she hated extreme heat. Spring and fall she would take, but summer and winter? Anyone else that wanted them could have them. She couldn't explain what it was, but there was something about the cold that rubbed her the wrong way. It was like she had been through some traumatizing experience with it as a child that she had forgotten about, and now it haunted her. Or, she sometimes thought, it could have been from a nightmare from long ago that still affected her. Either way, she hated the cold. At least Santa Monica was one of the warmer places you could be in the United States this time of year.

There were not a lot of people out and about; just a few couples here and there, the few local workers that never seemed to leave, and one or two tourists. With the promise of spring just around the corner, everyone she saw seemed to be in a good mood, despite the chilly weather. A few people even waved as they passed, or mumbled a hello, which Jessamyn was quick to respond to. She, too, was in a good mood, despite her complaints about her job and the lack of success she was having trying to find Rose.

The wind was just picking up as Jessamyn hurriedly rushed into the salad place a few minutes later. She smiled when she saw the regular bunch of people. Old Mr. Johnson and his wife, who were always eating lunch there at twelve o'clock on the dot, every day, were there. Also included in the bunch were some of the students from the nearby college, a couple of the dock workers out on their breaks, and some younger kids who were obviously supposed to be in school. A few waved as she approached the counter and then gave the boy her order. He tallied up her total and, as she was paying, Jessamyn saw out of the corner of her eye Charles Beaumont come walking through the door.

"Why, Miss Jessamyn...fancy seeing you here!" he exclaimed teasingly as soon as he noticed her, which didn't take very long. He came strutting up to the counter and stood beside her, giving her a tiny pat on the back as he did so. Jessamyn grinned at him as he greeted her.

"Hey, Charlie," she said in response to her lunch buddy. Charlie had been there the first day Jessamyn had walked in and he, seeing that she was with nobody, offered to let her sit with him. She had sat down, and since then a friendship had begun to blossom. They ate lunch together most of the time, except on Saturday and Sunday, when they both had the day off, or on Tuesday's when Charlie had an extra class. He was putting himself through college by working down at the docks before and after classes. It wasn't a very glamorous job; cleaning up after sailors, moving crates of seafood, and catering to his superior's needs, but as he put it, "It was a job."

Charlie mentioned to the boy behind the counter that he would have whatever Jessamyn was having, making her laugh. Charlie eating a salad? It didn't seem possible.

"What happened to the ole standby?" she asked as they walked to an empty booth, referring to Charlie’s usual lunch menu consisting of a big juicy hamburger that made Jessamyn's stomach churn. She wasn't one for red meat.

"Eh, I decided a change was in order," he said as they sat down, but he offered no other explanation. Then he smiled in a silly, cheesy way that made Jessamyn chuckle. Charlie was handsome, no doubt, but he had a charm about him that made you just want to laugh sometimes. His brown hair was always falling in his face, and his dark brown eyes were always secretive, like he knew something about you that you didn't, and he wasn't about to tell you. And Jessamyn would never admit to noticing it, but because he worked outside half of the day, he had developed a rich tan, not to mention firm muscles that could be seen through his tee shirts if he were wearing one. Sadly, today was not such a day and he had donned a coat in response to the cold. He had grown up in New Orleans, which had obviously caused him to have a deep Southern accent that still flew unchanged when he spoke. He spoke French quiet fluently as well, having learned, from, among other people, his grandmother. All those traits came together to produce this funny, energetic, not to mention handsome, person that Jessamyn couldn't help attach herself too. She liked him. Not in any sort of romantic way, of course, but she liked having him around.

Their food came before long and they ate pretty much in silence, aside from some pointless topics like the weather and sports. But soon Charlie brought up a question out of the blue that took Jessamyn by surprise.

"So, today are you going to tell me what you're doing here?"

Jessamyn tilted her head to one side and looked at him strangely. "What do you mean?" She unknowingly started twirling a strand of her hair with her index finger, a habit she had picked up as a child.

Charlie took a sip of his water and laughed. "Come on, Jessamyn, you know what I mean. Why are you in Santa Monica? I don't believe you're just hanging out as a waitress." He smiled and nonchalantly took a bite of his salad.

Jessamyn dropped the strand of hair and didn't say anything for a few minutes. Charlie waited patiently as she contemplated what to say. He just kept on eating in almost this annoying way, as if he were teasing her. In her mind, she scanned the contents of the last month. She had got down here, started out living in a hotel, and then moved to an apartment once she got her first paycheck. Her search for Rose was still going very slow; she hadn't found any new leads in weeks. It was pretty much non-existent, in fact. There really wasn't much to tell Charlie besides the first part of the ordeal.

"Do you want the truth, or some lame story?" Jessamyn asked finally, not really knowing why. She knew what his answer would be. He just broke into a bigger smile, and didn't answer her. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. How was she going to approach this?

"Basically," she heard herself saying a few moments later, "I was given up for adoption when I was a month old. I just found out a month and a half ago, and now I am out here looking for my mom. This was her last known residence." She laughed. "Pretty crazy, huh?"

Charlie shook his head. He was more shocked then he showed. He didn't want Jessamyn to think he was some sort of sissy, or that it was really that big of a deal. It was big, of course, but he didn't want to irritate any emotions she might be holding back. He didn't know if she was really doing okay with it or not. "I think it's great. You were really given up for adoption?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, they never told me, either. I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I never knew." She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "I mean, you think I would have realized when I was shorter than the rest of my family, when all my siblings ended up with a way different hair color. But no, I was so far out of it that I never knew."

"Wow, Jess, I can't even imagine that," he said after a few moments. She was looking pretty distracted now; her mood had definitely changed. "You've held up pretty well, I have to say. You seem to be pretty calm and collected. At least from what I've seen," he said, in between bites of his salad.

"Thanks," she mumbled. "It's just hard, you know?" Jessamyn sighed and looked down at her half-eaten lunch. She wasn't as hungry anymore. "I mean, what if this is a pointless campaign? What if, by chance, I do find her, and she hates me? She doesn't want anything to do with me. Or what if I don't find her at all, then where do I go?"

Charlie reached across the table and put his hand over hers. She looked up and saw that he was giving her a soft smile. "Hey, gardez la foi. Whatever happens is suppose to happen. And if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."

Jessamyn smiled softly. His comments meant a lot to her, especially since she knew he was telling the truth. "You know I don't speak much French past bonjour," she teased in reply. She had come to realize that sometimes he would speak French without noticing it. "But seriously, thank you, Charlie."

He stood, threw a couple of coins on the table for the waiter, and then nodded to Jessamyn. He hated to leave, but if he didn't he would be late. "No problem. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be off. I have a class in twenty minutes. " He grinned at her and then said, "Au revoir, Jessamyn."

She rolled her eyes. "Good-bye," she called after him as he walked out of the cafe. He stopped in front of the window outside and smiled, and then waved before he scampered off for good. Jessamyn grinned, her heart fluttering unexpectedly.

*****

After work, late that night, Jessamyn was at home getting ready for dinner when she heard the doorbell ring. She set down the glass of water she had been holding and made her way to the door, confused as to who it might be. She didn't really know anyone that would stop by like this.

When she opened the door, she was shocked to see Charlie standing in front of her. He had a big, ridiculous smile on his face and was carrying a stack of papers in his hands.

"Hey," he greeted her. "You have a minute?"

"Yeah, come in," Jessamyn said, excited, but still confused by his unexpected visit. The chicken was going to have to wait! Charlie must have something important to show her if he was just dropping by. She moved aside to let him through, and then closed the door behind him. "What brings you to my humble home? And how did you know where I lived?"

"I got Billy to tell me what building you lived in, then I just asked the man downstairs, who by the way is not very nice, which apartment you were in." He turned his back to her as he did this, and she used this time to straighten up. Inwardly, she groaned; she didn't want him seeing her in the dirty, ugly old apron she had on. Or the grungy dress, but that couldn't be helped. And her hair! Why couldn't it be tame for once? She frantically tried to smooth it down with her hands. He turned around just as she had finished, and she smiled.

"Oh," Jessamyn mumbled, feeling a little stupid as they just stood there; he probably had known what she had been doing. She didn't know why she was acting to silly around him. It was just Charlie. She shook her head and cleared her throat before motioning to her couch. "Here, sit down. Do you want something to drink?"

"Nah, that's okay. Thanks," Charlie said as he sat. He waved her over, that silly smile still on his face. "Come here."

Jessamyn came over and sat down next to him, still wondering what on earth this was all about.

"I have here," Charlie excitedly went on to say, "the list of all the registered voters in the city last year." He raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Care to take a look?"

Her jaw dropped as she reached over and took half of the stack of papers. "How on earth did you get this?" she asked, amazed at what he had just walked in with. Without waiting for an answer, she began to frantically search through names that adorned the paper.

"I know a girl that works for the auditor. She's kind of on his good side, if you know what I mean." Charlie looked over and gave Jessamyn a teasing smile. "Anyway, I dropped by and asked if she could get the lists for me."

Jessamyn looked at him, totally shocked. "Wow," she breathed. "I didn't even know that they kept these kinds of lists. This is so great!" She smiled at him and then went back to searching for the page that contained the D last names.

"I didn't know either," Charlie explained as he watched her excitedly look. "But apparently they do. It's just the names. It doesn't say how the person voted." Jessamyn nodded to acknowledge him, but she didn't look up or say anything. Charlie sat there for a moment before it occurred to him that he should be looking as well. "Um, what name am I looking for?"

Jessamyn looked up and gave him an apologetic look. "Oh, I forgot, sorry. You're looking for a Rose Dawson."

"All right," he mumbled to himself, as he started to search through the papers like Jessamyn was. It was quiet for a few minutes as they looked at their sets. Jessamyn began to get frustrated as she flipped and flipped but couldn't even find the D's. It seemed as if there were a million last names that started with A, and then just as many B's. And then, her stack of papers ended with C's. She must have handed Charlie the list she needed.

"Did you find anything?" she asked a few minutes after she finished with her lists. She was becoming restless. This was going to give her a good idea if Rose was still around or not. And with no new leads in weeks, this would certainly be a fortunate find if she were indeed on the list.

Charlie held his index finger and ran his other one down the list. He started nodding and smiling at the same time. "I've got the D's," he said after a moment, shocking Jessamyn with the excitement that was in his voice.

Jessamyn's eyes brightened and she quickly moved closer to Charlie, so that she could look over his shoulder. She tried to ignore the little spark of electricity she felt when her head softly bumped against his body. All she wanted to concentrate on was Rose.

They were both scanning the list when suddenly Jessamyn's eyes suddenly saw something. She gasped and excitedly pointed it a name three-fourths of the way down the page. Dawson, Rose was printed right there, in bold black letters. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes filled with unexpected tears. Her mother's name stared back at her like a treasure chest that she had just opened. Proof that Rose was still here was now hers.

When she finally found her voice again, she thanked Charlie profusely, to which he just laughed. He was embarrassed over the fuss she was making, and started to blush.

"It was nothing, Jess," he mumbled modestly.

Jessamyn shook her head and threw her arms around his neck. "I don't think so," she said, before kissing his cheek. "It's one of the nicest things anyone has done for me in a long time."

Charlie was even more flushed now as he wiped off the place where she had kissed him. He didn't know what to say anymore. And maybe that was a good thing, because Jessamyn had gone off talking about all the things that she was sure of now and of all the plans she had. He had stopped listening until she burst forth and said, "Come to the library with me tomorrow."

"What?"

"In all those detective stories, the people always find something at the library," she explained as her face lit up. "Oh, this is so great, Charlie! I don't know why I didn't think of it before."

He just stared at Jessamyn. She was a little more excited then he had expected her to be. In fact, she was a little ecstatic, and it almost worried him. He didn't know if this library idea of hers was going to work, but he would love to spend more time with her. So he shrugged his shoulders and said, "What the heck. I will go with you. What do you say to ten o'clock?"

Jessamyn stopped fussing around and turned to smile at him. "It sounds great. Thanks," she said truthfully.

Charlie shrugged again, amidst gathering the list together. After he was finished, he stood up and came over to her. "No problem," he said, making her grin. "Now, if you excuse me, I must be going." He gave her an affectionate tug on the ear, and then started across the room toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked as he opened the door.

Jessamyn nodded and leaned against the doorframe as he stepped out into the hall. "Yeah. Thanks again."

Charlie smiled at her. "Okay. Good night, then."

"Bye," Jessamyn said softly, before closing the door with a soft click. Her heart was so full of excitement that she thought it might burst. Rose was alive and, as far as they could tell, was still living here in Santa Monica. It was so amazing, she could hardly believe it. And she owed so much of it to Charlie now. She softly laughed to herself for no real reason. She just felt like it. Things were turning out so well, and she couldn't be more thrilled.

Chapter Six
Stories