Sam’s Song for Beth

I’ve been broken

For such a long time

And love

Wasn’t much a friend of mine

It took everything I had to give

But God

Must have had sympathy

And suddenly

God gave Beth to me

Chapter 19

Sunshine

Sunshine had been in a blue funk ever since her dinner with Beth. She blamed the fish tacos. She knew better than to order them. Her memories of Peter were invariably tied to their favorite Friday-night date at the Mexican restaurant. The plate came with three tacos, she recalled. Peter would eat two while she ate one. Even after all these years, she could still taste the delicate spice-coated white fish served on warm homemade corn tortillas with finely chopped onion, tomatoes, and cilantro. The little café never charged them extra for sharing a plate. She ate the rice and Peter loved the refried black beans. Their food was none of the Tex-Mex that was so popular these days. This was as authentic as it got.

As authentic as their love.

Peter was in art school with her at Columbia College Chicago; his medium was sculpture. He was gifted beyond anyone she’d ever known. He was as passionate about his art as she was about her own. The difference was that Sunshine had her family’s love and support. Peter didn’t. He’d defied his father, who had refused to finance his schooling. Peter’s father was a corporate attorney and expected his only son to follow in his footsteps. When Peter chose art school over his father’s objections, it caused a rift in their relationship that rivaled that of the Grand Canyon. The only way Peter was able to attend was due to his mother, who funded his schooling. She’d returned to the workforce as an art/history teacher in order to pay his expenses. The marriage was on tentative ground because she’d stood up to her tyrannical husband.

Sunshine first saw Peter at the campus library, and he immediately piqued her interest. He sat at the table across the room from her. Her immediate thought when she laid eyes on him was that he was gorgeous. His dark brown hair was long and always in his eyes. He constantly brushed it aside. In retrospect it was probably the motion of his hand as he pushed away the curls from his face that first attracted her attention. He looked up then and their eyes met. His were as blue as an Alaskan glacier. Dark hair. Blue eyes. She was lost.

Embarrassed to be caught studying him, she quickly looked down and dutifully continued her research. When she glanced up again a few minutes later, he was gone and her heart sank.

She returned the next night and Peter was there, too, sitting one table closer to her. They eyed each other several times. Then, as he had the night before, he left before she did, and again she swallowed her disappointment.

By the third night she decided if he didn’t make a move, then she would. Sure enough, he was at the library when she arrived. She wasn’t nearly as bold or as outgoing then as she was now. Wanting to meet him and tired of waiting for him to do something, she plopped her books down on the table next to him and pulled out her chair.

“I’m Louise,” she said.

“Peter.”

“My friends call me Sunshine.”

“What should I call you?”

“What would you like to call me?”

He smiled and it felt as if someone had turned up the lighting in the library. The entire area seemed to be brighter, sunnier. “I’d like to call you for a date.”

Sunshine had laughed, garnering glares from other students.

They pretended to study. Sunshine’s assignment had been finished the first night she saw him. The only reason she’d returned to the library was with the hope of seeing Peter again. Instead they passed notes to each other.

Caught up in the memories, Sunshine made herself a cup of tea and ventured into her art room, finding comfort there as she remembered Peter. After all these years, everything was still fresh in her mind.

They fell in love quickly. He was her first love, and in reality her last. Her heart had never completely belonged to another. It was always Peter and it would forever remain so. They did everything together. They met in the mornings, walked each other to classes, and studied together. They rode their bikes around town, as neither could afford a car. Sunshine repeatedly reminded Peter that he was talented and he shouldn’t give up on his art to satisfy his father’s plans for his life. He needed that reassurance, and she was happy to supply it because it was the truth.

For her entire senior year, they were together nearly every day. Then Sunshine had the opportunity to study for three months in Italy, and had been thrilled. Peter had been invited as well, but couldn’t afford to go. He wanted her to give up the trip and she refused, which was the first serious disagreement they’d ever had. She thought he was being selfish and he said she was being insensitive.

They were both right.

They were both wrong.

For six months they’d lived in their own world and Sunshine was convinced nothing would ever be strong enough to penetrate it. They’d talked of getting married as soon as they graduated and found work that would support them. Because she was young and naïve then, she believed the power of their love would see them through anything. How wrong she’d been. How foolish.

“Peter’s cute,” Ellie said when Sunshine brought him home to meet her family. Ellie had spent a year abroad, so this was the first chance her little sister had to meet him. Sunshine had written plenty about him to Ellie in the year she was away in France.

Peter rarely visited his family home, which had become a battlefield. For his mother’s sake, he avoided confrontations with his father.

“I think so, too,” Sunshine agreed, a bit wary of Ellie’s interest in Peter. And his in her sister. Sunshine saw the looks the two exchanged.

“You two serious?” Ellie asked.

“Very. We’re going to be married,” Sunshine told her sister.

“Really?”

“We’re talking about it,” Peter said.

Sunshine should have known then. Should have suspected.

“We’re in love.” She looked at Peter and saw his gaze was on her sister. “Right, Peter?” she pressed.

“Right,” he echoed.

Ellie was beautiful, but Sunshine wasn’t concerned.

She should have been.

When Sunshine left for those three months she was convinced that their love would remain solid. By this point she’d been dating Peter for nine months. She’d met his mother but not his father. His mother, Anna, was a delicate woman with refined tastes. She was close to her son and nurtured his desire to support himself with his talent as a sculptor. His father wouldn’t allow any of Peter’s work to be displayed in their home. Sunshine appreciated how difficult it was for this sensitive, brilliant young man to stand up to his overbearing father. Despite his talent and passion, Peter suffered serious doubts when it came to his art and was in constant need of validation. Sunshine tried not to worry what would happen while she was away, but it was only three months. Surely he’d be able to be without her for that long.

Ellie promised to be there for him, and in the weeks before Sunshine left, she became their shadow. As a joke, Sunshine starting calling her Mary after the nursery rhyme “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” Because wherever she and Peter went, Ellie was sure to go.

Peter and Ellie went to the airport with her. Even now Sunshine could remember waving to them as she went through security. Both promised to keep in touch. To be fair, Sunshine had her doubts. Peter had seemed more and more withdrawn and she’d assumed he remained upset that she had this wonderful studying opportunity in Florence and he didn’t.

The first week they wrote each other every day. Sometimes two and three times a day. She shared with him what she was learning, sent photos and notes, and counted down the days until her return. His responses continued but were short in comparison. Then gradually they came infrequently.

At the end of three months when Sunshine returned home and saw them, she knew. No one needed to spell it out for her. Peter and Ellie were in love. They each felt guilty, were remorseful, begged her forgiveness.

“Sunshine, listen, please,” Peter begged her. “I’m sorry, so sorry. Neither of us planned this; it just happened.” She’d been back from Italy less than twenty-four hours when they sat down with her. They held on to each other and faced her together, both with sad, mournful eyes.