Sternbetrachter - I'll try not to make it so . . . tragic
Thanks for reading!
LovinGuerin2much, roswellluver - Thanks for reading!
This chapter is a bit more, well, normal, than the prologue. It's nothing much, just introducing a few other characters.
Chapter One
We were close, all of us. We used to watch cartoons together, sing nursery rhymes together, go to school together. And then we grew up, and everything began to change, as time passed. I could say that I had expected all of us to never change, to always be the way we were. But in my heart of hearts, I knew that the day would come. Eventually.
Perhaps if we had kept to the way we used to be, things would have turned out differently. It would have saved us all a great deal of pain and heartache, prevented tragedy and turmoil. Matters of love and life, they are complicated, and best left untouched. Yet we are drawn to them by a magnetic force that we cannot fight.
But we got to this point in life, where we stand now, and it may be wrong to say this, but I will say it anyhow, for it is how I feel. Every moment in our lives shaped us to be the way we are today, and not an instant was unimportant.
It was past midnight when Isabel Evans arrived home. Her parents were asleep by then, but her twenty-six-year-old brother, Max, was on the couch reading a book. A fresh face in the computer programming sector, he shared an apartment unit with their friend, Michael Guerin, but he came back every other weekend to be a bother around the house. The smile still plastered on her face, Isabel hung her coat on the rack by the door and waltzed through the foyer and into the living room. Barely able to stand still, she collapsed onto the sofa beside her brother, throwing her purse on the table as she stretched out her legs.
"You're early," Max commented, putting down his paperback. Then, noticing her grin, he made a guess, "Alex?"
Isabel laughed. "I don't know. What do you think?" she said, throwing her head back as she tied her hair up. "What are you reading?" she asked, deciding to keep her brother in suspense. He didn't seem very interested; he was a guy, after all. But she knew that he could see her excitement, and he would ask her about it even if he didn't care.
Max raised his eyebrows slightly as he picked up his book and tossed it over to her. "
Everything is Illuminated. Jonathan Safran Foer," he answered. "It's about this Jewish-American guy who goes to Ukraine to find the woman who saved his grandfather during the Holocaust. And so on and so forth. He has an interesting style, this guy. You should read it."
Catching the book, Isabel turned the black and white book over. She guessed that Max's bookish girlfriend, Liz Parker, had recommended it to him. The cover was designed with a very interesting touch, the young graphic designer observed. There was no summary on the back, only the title and author's name again, upside down in messy scrawls. She shrugged and handed it back to Max. "Maybe I will, once you're done," she said.
"Okay, Isabel, I know you're waiting for me to ask, so what is it?" Max asked, rolling his eyes. He knew her well enough to recognise this tactic. He was her brother, after all.
Shrugging, Isabel picked up the remote control and flicked on the television. The music blared furiously, catching her by surprise. Laughing to herself, she hurriedly turned the volume down before their parents came down to reprimand them. "These new rock bands are really too much," she said, shaking her head, ignoring his question.
"Are you going to answer me or what?" Max persisted, already getting tired of the game.
"Answer what?" Isabel said absently, flipping the channel.
". . . welcoming our guest of the day . . ."
"Talk show. Boring," Isabel muttered, moving to the next channel.
Max knew how her mind worked. Her trademark response was
"What do you think?" and everyone who knew Isabel had heard her say that before. Well, Max also knew exactly how to get her to talk; two could play it that way.
One last try, he decided. "What's gotten you so excited?"
"There's nothing good on," she complained, switching the television off and throwing the remote control aside.
Yawning, Max stood up, "Well, I'm tired. Good night," he said, stretching.
"Okay, sit, little brother of mine," she ordered him. She could hardly contain her excitement anymore. Grinning like an idiot, she extended her arm, showing him her hand.
And then he saw it. How could he have missed it? The diamond was small, but it shone brilliantly nonetheless. "Wow," he breathed, his eyes wide. "Wow, really?"
His sister nodded happily. "We were at the beach. He's the most terrible person on earth, I'm telling you," she said. Tears began to slide down her flawless cheeks, but they were not tears of sadness.
"Terrible?"
"I'll spare you the details, at least for the night," Isabel said good-naturedly.
Max grinned. "Well, I'm absolutely thrilled for you, Iz." Like a brother should, he gave her a hug. "I really am." And indeed, he truly was. Isabel had always been the popular girl throughout their years in high school, the one everyone admired. Alex was Liz's best friend and he was always hanging out with her and the other girl in the gang, Maria. Alex began spending time around Isabel more often when Max and Liz had started dating.
Every guy who'd ever dated Isabel had had his heart broken, until Alex Whitman decided to try his luck and asked her out. He'd changed her, brought out the better person in her. No one would ever have imagined them together, the lanky nerd and the social butterfly. But what had begun as acquaintanceship soon grew to friendship, and then something deeper settled. Max had never seen his sister so happy, nor so at ease. She had found
herself at last, and it was all thanks to Alex. He was the one, and even Max had no doubt that he was perfect for Isabel. "Congratulations."
Isabel was glad that she had shared her joy with her brother, because he was her best friend and he understood her better than anyone. The following morning, Alex would come, and they would announce their engagement to her parents formally.
That night, Isabel crawled into bed and laid awake, replaying Alex's proposal in her mind for several minutes before drifting off into a peaceful sleep, one filled with dreams of the perfect life the future had in store for her and Alex.
And over at the Whitmans', Alex was dreaming about the same thing.
Her dark blond hair ruffled with sleep and her face terribly in need of freshening up, twenty-five-year-old Maria DeLuca skimmed through her wardrobe, trying to decide which outfit to wear to work that day. It was a Sunday, but she had to meet a client and he wasn't free any other time. She was an up-and-coming interior designer and she really couldn't risk pissing the guy off, not at that point in her career. She hadn't made it big enough - yet.
"Something professional but stylish at the same time," she muttered grumpily, finding nothing to her liking. "About time for another shopping expedition," she decided, making a mental note to call her best friend, Liz, later that day to arrange a date at the mall.
"No," she grumbled, dumping a gray skirt aside. "Too dull." She picked up a red and yellow blouse. Sticking her tongue out in disgust, she tossed it to the floor. "Too psychedelic. Did I actually buy that? God help me!"
Just then, the telephone rang. She picked it up and barked, "
What?"
"Not even a hello for your favourite guy?" said a familiar voice. It was her (and Liz's) other childhood friend.
Maria was relieved to hear his voice. "Alex, I'm so glad you called! I'm in the middle of a crisis here!" she whined, moving back to the closet and flipping furiously through her clothes again.
"Of course you are," he said on the other end, and she could almost hear the grin in his voice. "Let me guess. Having a hard time picking out a dress?"
"Not necessarily a
dress, Alex," Maria retorted, rolling her eyes. Men! "You lawyers are supposed to be good at giving advice!"
"Uh-huh, yeah. On the
law," he pointed out. "All right, all right, let's see. How about the plaid skirt you just bought? That looks good on you."
"I already wore that this week." She thought she heard Alex laugh, and would have yelled at him if she'd had the time and patience.
"All right, then. The navy-blue skirt, the velvet one, to go with a plain white blouse," he suggested. "And a jacket, a blue one. Definitely."
He had taste, that much was certain. Maria could just kiss him. She hadn't worn that in a while; it would work. "Not bad," she said gratefully as she searched for the outfit. "You're a genius!"
"I know I am," Alex joked. "Now, are you going to ask me why I called you or what?"
Slipping the jacket from its hanger, Maria cringed. "To help me pick out an outfit -
duh."
"You're a clever one."
"You don't have to tell me," she retorted.
"Maria, I
asked her," Alex said, a smile in his voice. "I finally did it."
The jacket slipped from Maria's hand. Fumbling to pick it up, she moved the receiver to her other ear. "You -
what?" Had she heard correctly?
She had.
"Oh my God, Alex, that's wonderful! You lucky man, you!" Maria was bouncing around the room. She had known that Alex was planning to propose to Isabel Evans for quite a while now, and though Isabel had never been her favourite person, Alex had always had his heart set on her. She knew how much he loved her, and thought that they made a sweet - if not conventional - couple.
"I just thought you'd like to know," Alex said, chuckling sheepishly. "But I'll talk to you later, okay? I don't have time to tell Liz, so ring her for me, will you? I'm going over to her house to talk to Isabel's parents now."
"So get your ass over there, snap-snap! I'll tell Liz, don't worry. Let us know what happens, all right?" Maria demanded, excited for her friend. She had always wanted the latest news on anything and everything, and her best friend's impending marriage was one of those matters that perked her interest and required her attention.
"Yes, ma'am!"
They laughed as they hung up. Maria stood and smiled for a while at the photograph that sat in a horizontal frame on her desk; it was of her, Liz, and Alex together, taken four years ago at her twenty-first birthday bash. At least one of them would be tying the knot soon.
The doorbell rang . . .
Isabel rolled over in bed.
Two more minutes . . . she thought groggily. Then it hit her. Sitting bolt upright, dread began to take over drowsiness. "Oh no . . . " she groaned, berating herself inwardly.
As she brushed her teeth and stared at her reflection, she wondered vaguely what Alex would say if she went downstairs in her nightshirt with her hair all messy. After washing her face, she randomly picked an outfit from her closet - a red sundress that fell just above her knees. Like it or not, it would have to do.
"
Isabel!" called her mother's voice from downstairs.
"Coming, Mom!" she yelled back, her face turning pink. She couldn't believe it. This was the moment of truth, and she had slept right through! "Just give me a second."
She slipped the dress over her head and stood in front of the mirror to evaluate her appearance.
Seven on the scale of ten, she decided. Quickly, she touched her face up with a bit of makeup. When she was done, she felt satisfied.
Eight-and-a-half, she concluded. That wasn't too bad.
Straightening out the pleats of her skirt, she opened the door. When she descended the stairs, the first face she saw was Alex's, smiling at her from his seat. He looked exceptionally handsome in his brown shirt (ironed, she noted) and slacks (creaseless, thank God). Casual, but nice.
"So, it seems that you two have something to tell us," Phillip Evans said, looking at his daughter expectantly.
His wife, Diane, nodded. "He insisted on waiting for you," she added, raising her eyebrows at Isabel. But Isabel knew that her mother was entirely aware of the situation. Mothers always knew.
Isabel sat down next to Alex. Being the gentleman that he was, he went straight to the point and began, "Yesterday, I asked Isabel" - he looked at her for an instant - "to marry me."
"And I agreed," Isabel pitched in, bringing out her hand for her parents to see.
Mr. and Mrs. Evans were surprised, but pleasantly so. Alex, however, did not give them a chance to react immediately. "But today, I must ask you for your permission. May I have your daughter's hand in marriage?"
Isabel thought it sounded like a movie. A damned good one.
Diane Evans was beaming proudly now. "I know of very few men these days who are as polite as you are, Alex," she said. "And I would be honoured to have you as my son-in-law."
Mr. Evans stood up and walked over to them. Both Alex and Isabel rose quickly. "I trust that Isabel can make her own decisions" - he winked at his daughter - "and I would never interfere, ever. She knows what's best for herself, I'm sure. But if you want my consent, you most certainly have it. I can't imagine anyone else for my little girl." And with that, he embraced Isabel and her husband-to-be.
"You overslept?" Alex laughed, giving Isabel's hand an affectionate squeeze. "That just goes to show how much you
really want this, doesn’t it?" he kidded as he drove slowly down the streets they all knew so well. The streets of Roswell, New Mexico - their hometown.
Isabel began to protest, "Alex, you
know better!" Blushing, she added, "It's a Sunday and I -
slept well, that's all."
"I'm glad you did." He came to a red light and stopped. Leaning over, he gave her a light peck on the cheek. "My girl needs her beauty sleep; I would never deny her that."
"You'd better not, mister!" Isabel warned jestingly.
Alex found himself admiring her beauty as the breeze through the wound-down window whipped her golden hair and the sunlight reflected in her light brown eyes. And her beauty ran much deeper, to the heart. She was his fiancée now. And he was blessed.
Truly blessed.
I will try to update as frequently as I can. Promise. 
Oh yeah, I know I've been taking ages, and the story is going reeeeeeeally slow (yeah, kill me) so I'll try to post Chapter Four sooner, okay? ---Nicole.
And also, welcome rigel, thanks for reading