Head remaining high. Hands still on hips. Jade A’Lynn Nash took stock in knowing she’d called him out on his lies. Game over. I won. Fair and square.
“Whatever girl I’m ‘nailing,’” he used air quotes, “is none of your business.”
“Girls,” I emphasized the ‘s’ under my breath and made it into a solid ‘z.’
“What?”
“Forget it.”
“And let’s get one thing straight. The girls around here? They don’t throw themselves at me.” His following words maintained iron control when he spoke, “I gain their trust, and they leap into my arms. Practically begging. If you’re going to accuse me of being a dick, do it right.”
I practically tasted venom. “You’re disgusting. You know that?”
“If the flipper fits, Doc.” He shook his head and walked away.
For me blaming him, I didn’t like being a victim of his glare. He reached the lip of the pool when a lanky boy, who didn’t look like he met the age requirement for a driver’s license, led a quartet of little girls toward where Miles stood. Their four, tiny faces and eight wide eyes left me guessing they were five or six years old. Miles and the teen spoke in hushed tones. Then, they both nodded.
Miles sat down at the far end of the group, dangling his feet into the water. “Have a seat, mermaids.” He nudged a little girl in the arm with his right elbow. She wore a swimsuit with a faded lavender unicorn on the front, the color contrasting against her brunette bob. “How was your birthday, Gable?”
Gable beamed. “It was so much fun! We had pink cake, and pink ice cream, and pink balloons!”
“That sounds fun.” Miles lowered himself into the pool until the surface greeted his waist. “Before we get started,” he moved until he stood a few feet in front of them, skimming his open palms along the water’s surface, “who can tell me a pool rule?”
Each little girl raised an eager hand into the air, stretching their teeny fingers high with a wiggle.
Miles pointed at someone sitting in the middle. She wore sparkly goggles that matched her swimsuit. “Tell me one, Emmaline.”
“Don’t drink the water!” Emmaline smiled wide. “Cuz it’ll make me throw up all over my mommy’s car again. Oh! And don’t pee in the pool!”
Miles staved off a grin. “Those are good ones.”
She blushed.
“Who else can tell me a pool rule?” he asked.
Again, all four raised a hand, squealing mimicked variations of, “Pick me!”
Miles chose a girl on the other end of the lineup. “Audra.”
She slapped a hand on top of the water to create a forceful splash. “Be a listener!”
“That’s a very important one,” Miles replied. “And there are three people we listen to when we’re around water. Sadie, can you tell me all of them?”
Sadie seemed to be the youngest of the group. She looked deep in thought with the tip of her tongue poking out her mouth. “Teacher or grown up.”
Miles held up his thumb.
“Lifeguard,” the girl said a little louder.
He extended his index finger.
“Aquatics director,” the girl fumbled her way through the syllables, articulating them with certainty.
Miles added his middle finger to the lineup. “That’s right. And who do you listen to three times as much because they’re a swim instructor, a lifeguard, and the aquatics director?”
As if coached, all four of them pointed at Miles.
He smiled wider than I’d ever seen, and his face didn’t shatter. “Good job! Now, who wants to jump in?”
The girls scrambled to their feet and curled their toes over the cemented edge. They impatiently waited to take turns launching their tiny bodies into Miles’s outstretched arms to make a splash. He swung Gable around through the water swiftly and released her about twenty-five inches from the wall, enthusiastically encouraging her to paddle and kick. I caught myself holding my breath throughout the exchange until her fingertips touched the side.
“I did it!” she exclaimed.
Miles gave her a high five. “I knew you could, kiddo!”
My jaw fell a little and I quickly masked my surprise. The shock wasn’t in Gable’s ability to make it back to the wall on her own. Disbelief hit when I noticed how Miles interacted with the students. Patience. Reinforcement. Kindness. I saw the antithesis of who I’d combatted over the past few days.
I watched the girls and pieced more of it together with another painful blow. That time, my recovery took longer. Son of a bitch! They were who he’d referenced. Emmaline and Audra didn’t throw themselves at him in the manner I’d implied about the instructors. Gable trusted him and leapt into his arms. Willingly. I watched Sadie pleading to go next and swallowed hard.
Another teen girl in an orange t-shirt scurried past me and over to the edge of the pool. “Sorry I’m late again, Seth. I—”
Miles cut her off, “Don’t worry about it.”
Her blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, highlighting worry on her face. “Please, don’t fire me. My car broke down, and—”
“Hey, no one’s getting fired,” Miles replied calmly. “Let me know if you need a decent mechanic.”
Immediately, I was reminded of Fast Eddie.
“All right, mermaids,” he said while guiding Emmaline to the wall with the support of his palm on her stomach and chest while she dogpaddled. “Haylee’s going to finish your lesson.”
The girls all said goodbye in unison, three of them waving.
Miles braced the side of the pool with his palms and lifted his frame in a singular movement while he steadied one foot on the edge. The saturated material clung to his arms and torso while rivulets of water dribbled down his body. Next, he looked my direction.
Much like last time, his expression remained a mystery, but I’d omitted perplexed from the equation as he stormed my way. Scratch that. Worried left the table with the stamp of his feet too. Okay. Yep. My money was all-in on livid.
“Do you need something else?” he rumbled.
My eyes flicked over at an oversized clock on the far wall in disbelief. I’d been standing in the same spot for nearly fifteen minutes. Why didn’t I leave?
“Um. Dance lesson.” I looked at the second-hand ticking. “Saturday at The DA. 1 p.m.”
He shook his head. “You drove all the way to Steele Falls and hunted me down. For that?”
“Yeah.” I felt defensive. “I don’t have your number and Zoe doesn’t either.”
“You could’ve waited until tonight to tell me.”
Crap. I’d forgotten about what came next on Annelies’s sparkly itinerary list. “Right. The bachelor and bachelorette party.” I paused, scrambling for strong justification, only finding a weak reason. “Well, I thought you might need advance notice.”
That right there. That’s where I should’ve stopped talking and left, but my brain had other ideas to sabotage my day. I remembered the paperwork in my tote bag. For some reason, I thought it’d be a saving grace. The envelope and paperclipped check were tucked deep in the inner pocket. “And I was asked to give you these.” With a shaky hand, I thrust them his direction.
He crinkled his eyebrows and flipped them over. As he read the front of the envelope and skimmed the writing on the check, his face turned a shade of maroon I didn’t know possible. “Where did you get these?”
“I... I met Lucy and—”
“You. Met Lucy.” He pulled his lips into his mouth and pinned them between his teeth while he struggled for a response. “How? Why?”
“I just thought…”
“What? You could take a stroll through my personal life?” He mashed the envelope and check sloppily in half. “Go.”
“I…”
&nb
sp; “I’m not messing around, Jade! Get the fuck out!” Miles’s powerful voice bounced throughout every inch of that space. Many heads turned around at the commotion. Most were under the age of twelve or over thirty. The younger ones widened their eyes, their mouths forming perfect O’s. The older ones narrowed their eyes, their mouths pursed into tight lines.
His chest heaved.
I took a nervous step backward.
He clutched the papers tightly, mashing them in his grip. Miles’s next words shook yet were eerily calm. “If you’ll excuse me, I owe a bunch of parents an apology.”
“But…”
“You don’t get it!” He fought to tamp down what he said next. “If you have any respect for me, and it’s clear you don’t, let this go. Leave!”
Miles slammed an invisible door in my face. For being nonexistent, it stung. The temperature on the pool deck spiked with each passing second, and my lungs felt like Swiss cheese when I inhaled. Need air. Eyes studied me from every direction. The kids. The parents. A group of scowling old biddies leaving from another water aerobics class. The employees. With my face red, I hung my head and hurried to the locker room.
The door of the women’s shower area clicked shut behind me, and I leaned back against the wall tiles for a few seconds to pull myself together. Heavy clouds of steam made the corridor appear endless, which didn’t help my anxiety. With two sharp breaths, I hurried down the hall and passed the showers, three-quarters of them vacant. The lockers were next, and then the door leading to Rona. Freedom was less than one minute away.
Passing by the water fountain, I saw an older woman sitting on a bench. She wore a retro flower swim cap and an oversized leopard print towel. I recognized her as the lead biddy staring hard from out on the swim deck. A few short minutes ago, she’d worn a gold swimsuit with black wording that read “Lusty Lady” across the chest.
No eye contact. Quicken pace.
Unfortunately, she noticed. “Hey.” It wasn’t a casual greeting. She commanded my attention.
My eyes flicked up, but I kept going.
“Hey!” The woman took off her vintage cap, her hair a flattened mess of gray curls.
I swung my head slightly in her direction.
“Yeah.” She nodded once. “You.”
My shoulders sagged. Come on, lady. Can’t you go get pruny in another water aerobics class or something?
Instead, I hid my annoyance and stopped a few feet from her.
“Closer,” she sounded gruff, waving me over with a floppy bat wing.
Fantastic. I’d pissed off the aquatics center dinosaur, and she was about to dine on my carcass like a hungry tyrannosaurus.
Reluctantly, I moved one step nearer, awaiting a colossal reprimand for the scene I’d caused.
“I’m Tasha.” She patted her face with a fluffy hand towel a few times before turning toward me. “I heard what happened out on the pool deck.”
And it begins.
“Yeah. Pretty sure everyone in Steele Falls did,” I muttered.
“That one out there,” she nodded to her left, “he’s a tough cookie.” She touched the towel to her chin. “Seth doesn’t let his walls down much.”
I had a hard time biting back my sarcasm. “How do you know? Are you his fairy godmother?”
“Honey, I ain’t no one’s fairy godmother, fairy grandmother, or fairy second cousin twice-removed. Who I am is an old broad who has a fetish for aqua Zumba, a nice piece of eye candy at the pool, and a shot of quality bourbon. All I’m saying is, I’ve been around the block a few times, and I know a diamond in the rough when I see one.”
My cheeks tingled. “Thanks, but I’m not a—”
“Not you, honey. Him.” Her tone was mildly condescending. “What he needs most is to be heard.”
“Funny.” I laughed through my nose. “How do you hear someone who uses their voice as a roadblock?”
Tasha folded the towel in half. “Maybe you need to find another way to listen.”
“Listening. Without my ears.” I puffed my cheeks with air. “Got it.” The Lusty Lady needed to lay off the chlorine huffing while surfing for prime man meat at the community pool. None of what she said made sense.
She glanced toward the door again and then back at me. “Damaged people try to damage people if they don’t know there’s another way.”
“What—”
Tasha jumped when her cell lit up in a rainbow of colors, unexpectedly pulsing to the beat of an explicit rap song. “Oh, jeepers!” She silenced the phone, struggled to stand up, and reached for a stack of clothing from the bench. A pair of black granny panties rested on top. Wording read, “IT’S NOT GOING TO SPANK ITSELF” in glittery letters across the rear.
“But—”
“I need to skedaddle. That was Randy,” she said coyly. “He’s the seasoned ticketholder to being my neighbor with benefits. We have a coupon for the early bird special at the lobster shack on the beach, and it’s all-you-can-eat Friday. Plus, we get the senior citizen discount.” She patted her stomach. “Let me tell you, their business will be in the red after they see how many sea cockroaches this old lady can put away.”
I needed more information, and not about her. “Wait. What about…”
“Listen,” she said.
“Listen to what?”
She winked before hobbling toward an enclosed changing room. “Just… listen.”
Rather than get arrested for following her behind the white curtain, I took Tasha’s exit as my cue to leave and headed out to the front area. A combination of emotions puddled in my stomach with each additional shoe squeak. Guilt. Regret. Irritation. Confusion. My head remained low, blonde hair veiling my face. I didn’t say goodbye to Rona, and I didn’t glance at the huge glass windows showcasing the pool. Ditching Steele Falls became priority.
As I walked across the parking lot and down the sidewalk, I counted the cracks along the way. Seven gaps in, I bent down to tie my loose shoelace, my body sandwiched between a long hedge and Miles’s truck. Did I get it all wrong? Did I misconstrue what I saw and heard? Through a thin layer of shrubs, I glimpsed the building one last time. Maybe I should apologize.
A side door opened and I stopped moving. Miles walked outside barefoot and stepped off the curb, shivering in his wet clothes.
What’s he doing now?
It didn’t matter if I looked crazy to anyone else who passed by— I stared.
Miles paced a little and then stood on a parking space bumper, pushing up onto his toes and letting his heels sink below the cement to stretch his calves. Up. Down. Up. Down. Next, he dialed on his cell phone. Talking. Gesturing. More talking. His conversation continued until a Volkswagen pulled up perpendicular to the parking space stripes.
He abruptly ended the call when a girl got out of the car and ran over to where Miles stood. She appeared to be in her late teens with stick-straight blonde hair, wearing a denim jumper. Excitedly, she bounced up and down a few times while clapping her hands. I couldn’t decode what they said, but the exchange resulted in complementing smiles. He held up an envelope at eye level and waved it a few inches. Blondie squealed, trying to grab it from his hands. He pulled it a little higher and added another sentence, his face serious. The girl made a second attempt at snatching it. A success. Another shriek happened when she tore it open and looked inside. Next, she threw her arms around him with force.
I turned away, not needing to see more. Son of a bitch. He’s nailing three vaginas now? How many more are out there?
Shock yielded to fury. I couldn’t believe he’d almost made me feel sorry for him. But the more I replayed the conversation in my head, and his surprise in my meeting Lucy, the more I believed he feared getting caught. And Tasha! He’d played the old biddy for a fool, too. Diamond in the rough. I frowned. Miles McCullou
gh was nothing more than common, flawed carbon.
Making me feel responsible deflected the blame off himself. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t shake it. I reached into my bag again and pulled out the cocktail napkin from K-7 with the sloppily written “SORRY” on it. I pursed my lips and wadded it up a few times before placing it underneath the windshield wiper on the passenger side. That wasn’t enough, though. I grabbed an old tube of lipstick from the zippered pocket of my tote and pulled off the cap. Part of me felt like I stooped to the graffiti artist’s level. Another part of me gave zero fucks. I took the shade of Mon Cherry and wrote on his windshield, “Sorry’s not enough.”
After the drive back to Cannon Cove, I went for one of my longest swims ever, but it didn’t ease the pain. The thought of investing in something stronger crossed my mind. Vodka. Morphine. A toaster, electrical socket, and a bathtub. Less than a few hours remained until I’d face Miles again, and I dreaded that confrontation. Nervous energy skittered across my numb skin. Even without feeling, I couldn’t ignore it.
The bachelor-and-bachelorette party came next on the agenda. Per her highness’s request, everyone needed to meet up at The Salty Seaman for a drink, a bar on the outskirts of town. Then, part one of the co-ed venture would end. The boys and girls would meet up elsewhere, separately, with more friends for part two, never to be spoken of again.
I don’t remember showering, but I did. I don’t remember putting on makeup or straightening my hair, but I did. I don’t remember putting on a black, leather skirt with a matching spaghetti strap tank top, but I did. Tying a dark-colored flannel around my waist slipped my memory, too. Subconsciously, I procrastinated by taking much longer than needed. By the time I left the house, I barely had enough time to arrive at the bar without being late. And I sure didn’t want to be early.
When I pulled up to the stoplight near the hole-in-the-wall bar, I saw a sloppy Eli outside talking to Bo, both of them acting like fools. Their behavior suggested how many drinks deep they’d already dove. The only parking space left was out back, alongside a pair of overflowing dumpsters.
Jade Page 22
