The Rock

"I used to write his name and my name adorned with a heart in the pages of my childhood diary. I hid that little pink book in between my mattress and the box spring like it was some sacrilegious artifact. I suppose it was. No one could have possibly understood how a child could be in love with a man. But I was. I still am."

- Liliana Evans, age 19

__________

August 2006

The Sierra Nevada mountains and the towns nestled within them are one of the only parts of California that experience true seasons. In the fall, the trees that are not evergreens shift into magnificent displays of yellows and oranges and reds, mushrooms pop up in the soft soil of the forest, and farmers further down in the Central Valley begin harvesting the corn and apples and squash they spent all year growing. In the winter, the temperature drops- frequently below freezing- it snows, blankets of white cover cars and houses, neighbors bring out their shovels and plows to dig out the unmaintained roads off the highway. The snow eventually melts and makes way for spring, warmer weather and dew on the grass, flowers sprout their delicate petals and birds flock back from their yearly migration. The summer is long and hot, stiflingly so in the towns closer to the Valley; crowds flee to rivers and lakes and air-conditioned restaurants for relief.

That's what Joel had been doing that day in mid-August, nearly three years after moving to that little gold-mining town over seventeen-hundred miles away from the place he'd grown up, the place he'd built a family only to have it torn from him not even a decade later, ripped from him like a missing limb that still ached and itched even in its absence.

He went to the Rock for lunch, solely to escape the heat. His house had not come with central air conditioning and the previous summer hadn't been brutal enough for him to consider installing one. But the summer of '06 was a scorcher, regularly soaring over ninety-five degrees, leaving him severely regretting his decision of not investing in an AC unit over the winter months when the prices weren't disgustingly inflated.

He wolfed down a greasy burger and fries, then idled at the booth for longer than he was welcome, not that he was welcome in this town at all, even after being here for as long as he had. People still looked at him like he didn't quite belong, and that was because he didn't- Joel didn't think there was anywhere he belonged anymore.

He left a twenty on the table and pushed himself out of the booth after the third time the waitress came to his table to ask if he needed anything else. He could take a hint; he'd just wanted to bask in the air-conditioning for another few minutes before being sent back out into the sweltering heat. He lingered by the door for another moment or two, trying to prepare himself for the weather outside, taking a deep breath of the cool air that smelled a little bit too much like bacon and beer to be refreshing before he pushed the door open and stepped out, immediately being assaulted by the dry, oppressive temperature. It wasn't humid in Twain Harte like it was in Texas, the heat didn't cling to you here, but something about the aridness of it slapped you, sucked the moisture from your bones, made it feel like the air was simultaneously too hot and too thin to breathe.

Joel dragged himself to his car, his lungs seizing under the heat, a sweat already breaking out on his forehead, down his back. He was in the middle of digging his keys out of his pocket when he heard his name, called out in a squeaky, high-pitched voice.

He knew who it was without having to look, that little girl was one of the first people he'd spoken to in Twain Harte, and remained the only one who willingly spoke to him outside of work.

Joel looked up, back over at the restaurant, where Liliana was urgently waving at him, pulling herself onto her toes by the railing so she could see over it.

Joel waved back, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips at the enthusiastic motion of the girl's arm, but that smile quickly dropped when her mother exited the restaurant, her eyes bouncing from her daughter up to Joel and back. He dropped his arm, stuffing his hand back into his pocket to grab his key as Diane dragged her daughter down the stairs, her voice carrying over to the dirt lot.

"Liliana, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?"

That's what Joel was. A stranger to this town, even after three years of living in it. That designation felt permanent, like no matter how long he stayed here he would always be a stranger to these people, to the generations that called this place home. But there existed no place, here or in Texas, that would welcome Joel with open arms.

Not anymore.

Joel's heart sat laden in the bottom of his gut as he fished his keys out of his pocket until the little girl's voice squeaked out, "But mommy, he's not a stranger. He's Joel."

He felt his sore, too heavy heart twist in his chest, his gaze involuntarily bouncing over to the mother and her daughter as he opened the door of his truck.

Diane was looking straight ahead, still dragging her daughter by her arm over to their RAV4, but Liliana had her neck craned so she could look back over her shoulder, at him.

Sometimes it felt like that little girl was the only one who saw him, like he was a ghost, like he'd died alongside Sarah, like he was haunting this town and Liliana was the only one with the ability to see him.

Joel flashed her a soft smile in silent thanks, which earned a crushing grin from her, then got in his truck and drove back to his empty house.

__________

Joel stood, staring at his broken coffee maker.

It existed as a kind of metaphor at this point, a symbol of what he needed to do versus what he absolutely should not do.

He needed to drive down into Sonora, needed to make a stop at the Walmart there, needed to buy a new machine and eradicate even the thought about going back to that overpriced café. But he'd let all of the previous evening go by without leaving his house, had wasted this morning trying to swallow and spit out the urge to drive over there. Now it was inching toward two in the afternoon and he still hadn't had any coffee and the headache drilling through his temples was making it hard to think about anything other than getting a caffeine fix as soon as possible.

He feared that if he got into his truck, he would find himself at that café without actively intending to drive there.

He felt insane.

He couldn't get her face out of his head, not her pink cheeks or her big hazel eyes or her plump bottom lip or the painful expression she'd donned when she thought he forgot her name.

Joel hated himself for thinking about her, but found that he could not stop. It felt like he'd gotten the first, small taste of his drug of choice and was now feigning for a larger fix. But why did it have to be her... what had split open in his brain, what part of him had suddenly turned rotten and vile for him to so abruptly see her in such a new and depraved light?

Twenty years of isolation had turned him demented and unhinged, something felt loose inside of him, like a spring had snapped, like a vital piece of him had been carved away and was now hanging lifeless from his form.

Getting another taste of her- another fix- felt equal parts disgusting and imperative.

That was all he could think about as he stared at that fucking defunct coffee maker, while his head pounded like someone had taken a hammer to his temples.

He could go get a cup of coffee at the Rock, no matter that it would surely be watered down and most likely burnt from sitting in the carafe all morning. Perhaps seeing Liliana's mother would snap some sense into him. Liliana's mother... who was only five years older than Joel...

Jesus Christ.

He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and stepped outside- the blazing summer sun smacking him in the face- avoiding that broken step as he walked down to his truck. His heart was jackhammering in his chest as he drove into town, while a trickle of sweat worked its way down his spine. He couldn't remember feeling like this, not in a long time, not since some faraway past life, not since he was a young man in Texas.

Joel exhaled sharply while that new greedy thing in his gut begged for reprieve. He had every intention of pulling into the dirt lot next to the Rock, but as soon as he turned onto Fuller, he saw her, coming out of the café, wavy blonde hair swept up into a ponytail, pert ass covered by a pair of tiny denim shorts, and that greedy thing took hold of him, flooded his pounding head and forced his hand.

The next thing he knew he was swerving into the little lot next to the café and cutting the engine, stepping back out into the sweltering heat, the sweat on his back now sticking to his t-shirt.

He felt delirious as he approached her, his head still pounding, now accompanied by a loud buzzing in his ears, his heart was still slamming against his ribs and when paired with the buzzing and pounding in his head, made him feel off-kilter, a little dizzy. Maybe he was experiencing a mild case of heat stroke. Maybe he should turn around, go back to his truck, crank the AC and abandon this entire expedition all together. He could ask Bill to bring extra coffee with him to the work site tomorrow, he could drive down to the Walmart in Sonora after they wrapped up for the day.

But then she turned toward him- after her friend elbowed her in the ribs- and as soon as those big hazel eyes locked on his, as soon as the apples of her cheeks bloomed bright with color, as soon as her plump lips broke into a crushing smile, all the stampeding thoughts in Joel's head evaporated.

"Headin' out for the day?" he asked as his eyes bounced from her face down to her delicate little hands, which were in the process of locking the café door.

"Oh- uh, yes, but if you need a cup of coffee I can go back in," she stammered, turning toward him, those big hazel eyes more green toward her pupils under the bright summer sun. Her friend was standing slightly behind her, a smirk on her face as her gaze bounced between the two of them.

"I don't want to be any trouble," he said, his eyes drifting back and forth between the two women.

Liliana's mouth popped open, but before she could say anything her friend- Joel couldn't remember her name, but thought it started with a V, Valerie maybe, or Vanessa- stepped forward.

"No trouble at all, she would love to make you a cup of coffee, wouldn't you Lil?" the woman announced, her voice lilting into something teasing as she flashed a smirk at Liliana.

Joel didn't really know what was going on between the two of them, but his eyes zeroed in on the way Liliana's cheeks grew even redder while her gaze narrowed at her friend before she let out a breath and turned to Joel.

"I don't mind at all," she insisted, stuffing the café key into the pocket of her too small, too tight shorts. "I'll see you at home later," she said then, turning back toward her friend.

"Have fun," her friend sang out, spinning her car key around her finger as she began walking over to the little lot on the side of the building.

"I hope I'm not keepin' you..." Joel said as he followed Liliana into the dark café, where she flipped on the light, sliding her bag off her shoulder and onto one of the tables before she shuffled back behind the counter.

"Not at all," she said with a toss of her hand, "I go over to my mom's for dinner every Sunday, so I was just going to walk over to the lake to read while I wait for her to get off."

A grunt of acknowledgement passed Joel's lips while he stood in the middle of the empty café, unsure what to do with himself or his hands or his eyes. After crossing and uncrossing his arms, he ended up stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans while he watched her turn on the machine and fill it with coffee. It was cool in the little shop, but he could still feel the sweat on his back sticking to his shirt, could still feel that new, greedy creature pacing in his gut as he watched her plump bottom lip jut up between her teeth when her gaze flashed over to him.

"Coffee maker still broken?" she asked, leaning over the counter while the coffee machine gurgled to life behind her.

He did feel marginally guilty for making her come back inside after closing, but it was difficult to get the feeling to stick when she was staring at him with those big eyes, the cut of her light blue shirt affording him a small view of her cleavage that he tried to avoid looking at but failed miserably as she leaned over the counter, her forearms resting on the wood, the skin of her chest looking so soft and unblemished that his hands twitched in his pockets with the urge to touch.

He felt heat crawl up his neck as he forced his gaze back to her face.

"Yeah, I- didn't get a chance to buy a new one yet," he said through a cough.

He'd had plenty of time, if only he'd stopped thinking about her all fucking day.

Liliana nodded, her gaze tracing his face in a manner that made him feel too exposed, like she could see straight into his skull, like she could read all the depraved, disgusting things he was thinking just by looking at him.

"I think they carry those fancy Nespresso machines at the market, not that I'm trying to get rid of you," she said with a small smile that made Joel's stomach twist into a knot.

"That place is too expensive," he muttered, one of his hands leaving the confines of his pocket to come up and scratch the back of his burning neck.

Liliana let out a soft laugh, the sound of it ringing through Joel's skull even after it ceased. "So is the coffee here, though," she said, with a small tilt of her head.

That was true, though Joel did not want to admit that the coffee was secondary to the reason he had driven over here. How would she even take that admission- though he was not in the place to admit his depraved thoughts to anyone, he still hadn't fully processed them himself. Would she turn her nose up at him and his newfound infatuation with her? Would she be as disgusted with him as he was with himself? Surely, she would not be interested in a creepy old man, one who was old enough to be her father, one who had known her since she was a child.

The thought again made him feel sick, his stomach rolling as nausea bubbled up in his throat- all acidic and thick.

"Are you alright? You look a little pale," she asked, her voice dripping with concern that he most certainly did not deserve.

Joel shook his head, trying to shake away the nausea, trying to eradicate all the disgusting thoughts in his head. "I'm fine, just the- the change in temperature."

She kept staring at him with those big eyes, her gaze bouncing over his face like she could tell he was full of shit, the small, incremental downturn of the corners of her lips turning his pounding heart sore.

Liliana spun around, after a moment, grabbing a cup and filling it with that freshly brewed coffee. Joel forced his eyes away from her backside as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and approached the counter. When she turned back around and placed his coffee on the counter between them, her eyes flicked down to his hands.

"Oh, no, it's fine, the register is already shut down, this one is on the house," she said, pushing the cup closer to him.

Joel's brows furled together as his fingers pinched a five-dollar bill. "I made you open back up just to make me a cup of coffee, least I can do is pay ya."

"No, really, Joel, it's fine," she said, shaking her head, her ponytail flicking back and forth at the motion, his name in that sweet, honey-drenched tone making his gut squeeze and flutter.

"Take it for yourself, then, I owe you that much," he insisted, taking the bill out and holding it between them.

He desperately needed her to take the money, if she took the money that would make this entire interaction appropriate, it would mean that he had driven down here and had her reopen the café so he could buy a cup of coffee, not for the true reason, which he was still desperately trying to bury as that plump bottom lip jutted between her teeth again.

"You're probably the last person in town who owes me anything, Joel," she said softly, just above a whisper, those big, hazel eyes looking back and forth between his, swimming with something that looked too much like gratitude or awe or admiration, or some amalgamation of which he did not deserve.

He had saved her once, twenty years ago, but anyone would have done the same, and surely that single act did not absolve him of his sins now.

Joel stuffed that five-dollar bill into the empty tip jar on the counter, then shoved his wallet back into his pocket before he picked up his coffee.

Liliana let out a sigh, shaking her head as she looped around the back of the counter, grabbed her bag and walked alongside him to the door.

He felt like a gross, hulking creature next to her, a too big monster juxtaposing her small form. He watched her as she flicked off the light, as they exited the shop, as she dug her key out of her little denim shorts and went to lock the door. Her wrists, her hands, her fingers looked so soft and fragile, like something he could crush between his thick, calloused fingers. She was so delicate- small hands, thin column of her neck, sleek jawbone he knew he could grip entirely in his palm- so delicate, like a little bird that should fly far, far away from him.

He could never touch her, that he knew, despite his new depraved thoughts- he would never let himself steal her innocence, never let himself crush those delicate wings.

"Thank you, for this," Joel said, holding up the coffee once she finished locking up.

Liliana waved her hand dismissively, "Thank you for being the only one who puts more than pennies in the tip jar."

Joel chuckled, his eyes blinking over to his truck. "Can I drive you to the lake? Since I made you miss your ride?"

That was something he could do, to make up for his misdeeds. But he would not touch her, he would never let another soul know those vile things he'd been thinking about her.

Never mind that she was still the only person in town who spoke to him.

"Oh, that's okay, I- it's only a twenty-minute walk," she said, her cheeks once again blooming with color.

Joel shoved his free hand into his pocket to suppress the desire to reach out and touch that heated cheek.

"And it's only a four-minute drive," he countered.

Liliana glanced over her shoulder, down the road, then back up at his face, a smile breaking on her lips as she nodded.

Joel led her to his truck, opening the passenger door for her, but not allowing himself to reach out and help her into the seat like he wanted to, instead he just silently relished in the small thank you she gave him as her cheeks continued reddening.

He got in, putting his coffee in the cupholder between them, then started the engine and backed out onto Fuller. The hot, confined space of his truck made the sweat on his back even more intense while his stomach swirled as the smell of her filled the cabin. She smelled like coffee and vanilla and temptation.

He took a sip from his cup as he sped down Fuller and tried not to think about what she might taste like.

"I never see you in town during the week anymore now that you finished rebuilding the community center," Liliana said after a moment of silence, shifting her bag on her lap, curiosity eating away at her tone.

"M'out in Mi Wuk now, buildin' apartments up there," he stated, his eyes involuntarily blinking over to her for just a moment, long enough that he could see that she was staring at him with those big eyes.

"Apartments?" she asked, her voice coated with confusion.

"Yup," Joel nodded, "don't know who in their right mind would buy or rent one, but there'll be a hundred and fifty units when we're done."

Liliana scoffed, "They're not going to sell a single one, guaranteed."

Joel felt the corners of his lips lift into a small grin. "Nope, but I ain't gonna tell them that."

She giggled at that and Joel strangled the steering wheel, his lips lifting at that sweet sound while he forced himself to keep his eyes on the road instead of drinking her in.

"What're you-" Joel coughed, reached up and scratched his cheek, "what're you gonna read while you wait?" he asked as he turned onto Lakeview Drive.

"It's stupid," Liliana muttered softly, fidgeting in her seat, hugging her bag closer to her chest.

Joel's eyebrows pinched together as he glanced over at her, his heart aching in his chest as he watched her head drop, just a centimeter, but enough that he noticed.

"I doubt it," he said, cautiously, shifting in his seat, propping his left elbow up near the window.

It was quiet for another moment before she spoke, "It's called Psychology in Action, it's a textbook."

Joel didn't quite understand why she sounded so dejected, but the tone of her voice made him twitch. "S'that what you studied in school?"

He saw her shake her head out of the corner of his eye, "No, my mom would have killed me. I studied Business."

Joel made a low sound of acknowledgement in the back of his throat. He didn't know what else to say. He so rarely spoke to anyone that making conversation almost felt foreign to him. Even though he wanted to know, wanted to ask her why she'd studied something she obviously hadn't wanted to. Simply for her mother's approval?

She was such a good girl... a sweet girl, too innocent and virtuous to even be in his vicinity.

"I wanted to study psychology," Liliana continued, unprompted, after a beat, "but my mom said that was a waste of a degree. Not like I'm using the business one... but anyway," she said with a wave of her hand, "I guess I'm studying psychology on my own now."

"Could always go back to school," Joel said, as he pulled into the parking lot, the glittering expanse of Twain Harte Lake now visible through the gaps in the pine trees that surrounded the little beach.

"Unfortunately, I don't have a hundred-thousand dollars lying around," Liliana said with a sigh, unbuckling her seatbelt just as soon as Joel pulled into a parking spot. "Thanks for driving me," she said, turning toward him a bit in her seat, "you didn't have to do that."

"And you didn't have to make me coffee after the store closed," Joel said, his eyebrows flicking up toward his hairline. "It's no problem, darlin', really."

Her cheeks flamed red again, her eyes briefly falling to her lap before they met his again, and his heart slammed into his ribs. The bright summer sun filtered through the trees, pouring through his windshield to blanket the side of her face, making those hazel eyes more green than brown, making the little pieces of blonde hair that had slipped from her ponytail glow.

She was so beautiful it hurt.

Liliana was chewing on her bottom lip again by the time she glanced over her shoulder and made a motion to get out of his truck.

"I'll guess I'll see you around," she said, her delicate little fingers curling around the door handle. "Maybe tomorrow if you still don't have a usable coffee machine?" she asked, her voice plagued by a hopeful lilt that made the greedy creature inside Joel pace.

"Yeah," he coughed, giving a curt nod, "maybe."

She flashed him a too sweet smile, then opened the door and jumped out, giving him a little wave as she began walking toward the lake.

And Joel started his truck- just as soon as she disappeared behind the line of trees- backing out and driving straight to Highway 108, heading southbound, toward Sonora, to buy a goddamn coffeemaker, because he did not think he could last another minute around that woman without doing something horrible.

__________

Liliana carried the bowl of pasta she'd finished making to the table, while her mother continued tossing the salad, still blathering away about that marketing job she wanted Liliana to take down in Turlock.

"Liliana, I'm serious, you can't just work at that café for the rest of your life, you don't even make enough for a savings account, how do you ever expect to pay off your student loans?"

She let out a slow breath, trying to keep herself calm even as her stomach twisted into a tight knot. She dreaded these Sunday dinners, which made her feel terribly guilty on top of the anxiety her mother's presence always seemed to induce.

"I told you mom, I'm not interested in a job in marketing, and a three hour commute each day honestly sounds like a nightmare."

Her mother let out an annoyed huff, blowing a piece of hair out of her face as she brought the salad to the table. "If you're not interested in marketing, what are you interested in?" she asked, rolling her eyes as she sat down with a sigh.

Liliana cautiously sat down across from her, reaching over the table to begin serving her mother pasta. "I don't know yet, I'm just- I'm just taking it day by day right now."

She certainly wasn't going to tell her mother that she spent most of her free time studying the topic she had actually wanted to go to school for, rather than looking for or applying to jobs.

"Day by day works when you're sixteen, Liliana, not twenty-five."

"Okay, I get it, I'll call the place tomorrow, alright?" she spat out, letting her eyes flutter closed, hoping this act of submission- regardless that she had no real intention of calling that company- would work to get her mother off her back, at least for the rest of the evening.

"Thank you," her mother sighed, dramatically slumping in her seat. "It's a very good place to work. I checked Glassdoor and everything."

"Awesome," Liliana said, with forged enthusiasm as she moved on to begin serving herself.

They started to eat in welcome silence, though it did not relieve the twisting, bouncing anxiety in Liliana's core. This relief was only temporary, her mother would be back to badgering her about that stupid marketing job tomorrow. She knew her mom meant well, knew that she wanted Liliana to get a decent job so she wouldn't end up like she had- still waitressing at the same restaurant she had been at when she got pregnant with Liliana, nearly twenty-six years ago. But what Liliana did not understand, was that if her mother so badly wanted her to have a better life than she did, then why wouldn't she let her choose that path herself?

Liliana didn't know, was too scared to ask.

Diane broke the silence, reaching up to cover her mouth as she spoke through a mouthful of pasta. "I saw you with that weird man today."

Liliana's brows pinched together, trying to decipher who it was her mother was talking about before she realized the only person she could possibly be talking about was Joel.

"His name is Joel, mom, you know that, and he's not weird," she said, her heart pounding a little faster in her chest as she recalled that afternoon. It was the most she'd spoken to him in ages and yet she still felt needy and desperate for more.

She always needed more when it came to him, and she was never afforded much. In all the years she'd loved him she'd never even gotten to touch him, not once, not anything, not even a handshake.

The bereft-ness of it made her heart feel too heavy in her chest.

"He is certainly weird, Liliana. I've never understood your fascination with that man, ever since you were a kid," her mother shook her head, stabbing a piece of lettuce much harder than necessary, causing the prongs of her fork to scrape across her plate with a screech that made Liliana shudder. "I really don't think you should be talking to him," her mother continued, with a mouth full of salad, "and you most definitely shouldn't have gotten in his truck! He could have taken you out into the woods or something."

Liliana rolled her eyes into her plate as she felt thick, hot anger begin boiling up in her gut. Her mother had never even given Joel a chance, no one in town had, they'd all cast him out from the moment he moved here, lumped him into the same category as the tourists and the rich Bay Area yuppies with vacation cabins.

"He was buying a cup of coffee, it's kind of my job to speak to him, and then he offered to drive me to the lake so I didn't have to walk because he's nice, which you would know if you ever even spoke to him," she retorted, her knuckles white from how tightly she was gripping her fork.

"I don't speak to him because he's strange. Everyone in town knows he's strange," her mother scoffed, her eyes drilling into Liliana's from across the table, her fork halfway to her mouth.

"He's not strange," she heard herself bark, "he saved me, mom, did you forget about that?"

"Oh please, Liliana, don't be dramatic," Diane sighed, stuffing another forkful of salad into her mouth.

If Liliana was braver she would have stormed out of her mother's house, would have called Val and asked her to come pick her up, but she wasn't brave, so she just tried to push down the anger brewing in her gut while she shoveled the rest of her pasta into her mouth, her heart aching in her chest for Joel, sweet Joel with those sad brown eyes, who was too good for this stupid town, where no one had ever even given him a chance.