I never wanted to believe that was true because there is nothing like the feeling of falling in love so hard it exhausts your life.
Alice doesn’t respond to my comments and I really don’t expect her to. If you haven’t done something like this before, it’s all very strange. Showing up at people’s homes, their jobs, even at one time, I met a man in the parking lot of his local gym after his workout.
Most of the time it isn’t stalker-like, although it sounds that way when I talk about. I never harass or chase a person who has told me to leave. I don’t go to their homes multiple times or constantly email them. I just fade away. I also make it a point to shred all the information I receive from the PI after I return home. It makes me feel less intrusive to know I don’t have piles of personal information lying around my house for countless men named Elliot.
“Tomorrow,” I say to Alice, “I plan on being stealthy just for you.”
“Yes,” she breathes out and I giggle.
Chapter Four
“Do you ever duplicate Elliots?” Alice asks, as we’re getting ready to leave the hotel. “Like find the same one twice?”
“Yeah. I keep a list of all the first and last names with the city or town they live in, but it still happens,” I say and shrug my shoulders. “I tried to keep the same investigator to avoid it, but that didn’t work either. Some left the field, others weren’t available when I needed them or I simply didn’t like them, so I just try my best not to contact the same one over again.”
I’ve only duplicated four times throughout this whole search, which doesn’t seem so bad given I’ve been at this for twelve years. The people I contacted were far more understanding than I think I would have been. I’m certain after some whack job proceeded to fill me in on their stupid story of finding a lost love for a second time, I’d have told them to fuck off.
“I don’t know how you keep track of it all,” Alice says like she’s mesmerized by my ability to organize ten plus years of information.
“When you’re driven by the thought of finding a person you’ve looked for all these years, the process becomes second nature,” I say, but my voice is flat. I look down at my hands as they rest against the steering wheel wondering if I can really continue what I’m doing. The more I share with Alice the more I realize I can’t go on doing this forever. I will eventually have to give up.
“I guess that would be true. Just like anything you work at for a long period of time, you find the best way to do it.”
After we’re both settled in the car, I type the address into the GPS and wait for it to map the best route.
The notes from the PI said this Elliot tends to get coffee at a Starbucks on Greentree Road and then he heads to his office a few miles away. He rarely uses the drive-thru, so if he decides to stop for coffee today, getting a glimpse of him should be pretty easy. I have a description of his car, which will make it easier for us if he does show up.
I fill Alice in and of course she’s starving, so she claims we must go inside so she can get something to eat. But I shoo her off and wait in the parking lot not wanting to miss my opportunity.
She’s back a little while later and asks, “Anything go down with the stake out while I was gone?”
“Nope,” I say as Alice hands me a lemon scone and an iced coffee. “Thanks and by the way, we’re looking for a black Audi sedan.”
“Sweet,” Alice responds. “Maybe it’ll be him and maybe he’ll be loaded and you’ll finally be able to quit that time suck you call a job and write something you love.”
Her sentence annoys the writer in me, a series of strung together thoughts connected with the word and. But I understand the sentiment behind her words and it makes me smile a little.
We’re sitting in the car eating, probably looking ridiculous given we could be inside sitting at a table, but I don’t know exactly what this Elliot looks like. The only information I have is the car and I don’t want to miss it.
A few seconds later Alice is flapping her hands and gasping.
“Look,” she says, loudly as it echoes throughout the car. I whip my head around to see a black Audi sedan pull into the parking lot and park in a spot two away from the one we are currently parked in.
My heart begins to race, a crazy mix of nervousness, fear and excitement colliding together. You’d think after all this time, after all the letdowns, I wouldn’t find myself feeling all these emotions, but each time it’s the same. The rush of possibly finding him is almost too much to bear.
A strange feeling forms in my chest, a tight breathlessness, as I feel myself grow dizzy. I feel as if I want to flee, but then I can’t look away.
What if it’s him?
What if it isn’t?
I watch the man exit his car. He’s wearing a black suit and he’s handsome, but it only takes a second for it all to come crashing down. Whatever emotions I was feeling have now ceased and I’m back to normal. At least what I’ve come to know as feeling normal in this case. Normal has become feeling defeated, letdown and hurt. Desperate and delusional, after twelve years of searching, I’m starting to think I enjoy the pain of feeling lost.
“It isn’t him,” I say, pointblank as I throw the car into reverse.
“What?!” Alice shouts. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s it?” She’s now shouting even louder, her hand is on my forearm as if she’s trying to stop me from putting the car in gear. “How do you even know? You looked at him for like two seconds.”
I can hear the anger and frustration in her tone already. We have five more stops to make before San Diego and in all honesty, this is how they generally go down. Occasionally I’ll stop and talk with some of them, especially if I’m not certain they’re Elliot, but most of the time, I see them and know immediately.
“He’s too short,” I respond back quickly.
“This is ridiculous. How the fuck can you know that from just glancing at him?”
“I just know!” I say, but it comes out in a harsh yell that startles Alice and makes me feel guilty.
“Fine,” she answers back just as sharply and I deserve it.
I pull out of the parking lot, heading back to the hotel to gather our things and move on to our next stop. I say nothing more to Alice, who is now sulking in the passenger’s seat, huffing and mumbling under her breath.
She doesn’t understand and I don’t expect her to, but I’d also like a certain amount of respect for what I’m doing and for me. She’s the one who wanted to tag along. I never agreed to do things her way.
After a silence that drags on far too long for Alice’s liking she asks, “How did you know it wasn’t him?”
“Elliot was tall, a lot taller than me even at nineteen. That man was shorter than me.”
“You know you could just have the investigator send you pictures of these people and you wouldn’t have to waste your time on this,” Alice responds, but again, she doesn’t understand my need to find him and why I do the things I do.
“I know, Alice,” I retort, my tone sharp.
“I guess I don’t understand what you’re doing,” she says, sounding perturbed.