Love is a Beach: a romantic comedy

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Love is a Beach: a romantic comedy Page 5

by Lilliana Anderson


  Esme gives me an approving nod and places her hand on my arm. “Would you like some pot, dear? It’ll help with the throb in your knee. You know I don’t believe in taking pills. Natural is always best.”

  “Sure, Ez,” I say with a smile, and before long, I’m getting high with my eighty-year-old neighbour in the middle of the day. And it’s not the first time, either.

  SEVEN

  DARCY

  With a pot of pumpkin curry that Nana insisted I deliver, I cross the hall and knock on Leo’s door. After yesterday, I feel I owe him some sort of an explanation, or at least an apology for the damage my son did to his knee. He opens the door with a forearm crutch looped around his left arm.

  “Oh God. It’s even worse than I thought,” I moan, noting how he’s keeping all his weight off that damaged knee.

  He smiles, and boy, does my stomach flip. “It’s nice to see you too, Darcy.”

  “I brought you pumpkin curry,” I say in a rush, holding it up and wanting so badly to just thrust it into his arms and dive back inside Nana’s apartment. I’m not currently equipped with the ability to converse with attractive men.

  “How about you bring it in?” He lifts the crutch a touch, showing me that he’s not capable of carrying the large pot himself.

  “Oh! Of course.” See? I’m acting a bit stupid. How does one be alone with a man who isn’t their husband or family member? It’s been so long since I’ve had to deal with any of this. “Where do you want it?”

  “In the fridge will work,” he says, standing aside to let me through. Self-conscious of the fact he’s directly behind me, I walk up the short hall that leads from his front door to the rest of the apartment. The layout is a mirror copy of Nana’s with an open-plan kitchen dining, and a second hall that leads to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

  “Your kitchen is on the same wall as our kitchen,” I point out once I clear space for the curry in the fridge. It isn’t hard, because Leo doesn’t have a hell of a lot in there. Beer, water, milk, cheese, some workout drink, and random fruits and vegetables. Everything looks fresh and I’m pleased there aren’t any science experiments in there like there would be if Kevin was left to his own devices.

  Oh.

  I step back and close the fridge door, frowning as I catch myself in the thought, angry because I don’t want to think about Kevin anymore. I’ve just spent three days in bed crying over the man, and frankly, he doesn’t deserve the space in my thoughts anymore. But how does a person do that? Shut someone out of their thoughts after twenty years? I’m finding it especially hard since Nana suggested that his overtime and last-minute conferences and client meetings were just a cover. God, what if they were? I said I didn’t want to think about it, but the seed is planted and now, it’s all I can think about, because did he? Did he lie about work so he could shack up with other women behind my back? I suppose it would explain the decline in our sex life in recent years. I’d put it down to maturity and a naturally decreasing libido, and when he discovered the lump, I figured the radiation made him not want sex at all. Was I wrong in thinking that way? Too understanding? Because now, standing on the other side of this, I’m thinking that perhaps I really should have seen this coming, perhaps he was cheating on me all along. Had his insistence that he hated cheaters been utter bullshit? A ruse to cause me to never doubt him? I mean, he has jumped straight into some new life with a woman he met while we were together. Was he cheating on me with her? Using me as his nursemaid while she fulfilled his other needs?

  I’m already banging my head on the stainless steel door before I realise what I’m doing.

  “Whoa there.” Leo’s hands wrap around my upper arms and he steers me away from the door, hobbling a little as he guides me sideways so I’m standing with my back against the bench and Leo is balanced on one leg in front of me.

  “How do you know if someone is cheating on you?” I blurt, unable to keep the concern in any longer.

  His eyebrows shoot up and he scrubs a hand across his jaw.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.” My face is all scrunched up and I keep my head down. I’m losing my mind. What am I doing saying this stuff to a stranger? “I should just go. I’m not fit for human company.”

  “No. It’s fine, er…I suppose it’s in the missing time. When they say they’re going somewhere but the timing doesn’t really fit. That’s how it was with my ex, anyway. She’d say she was out shopping or at an appointment, but she’d get home too late then blame the traffic. I don’t know. She always had answers, but there was just something off about them.” A woman cheated on this? Holy shit. What hope is there for someone like me then?

  “Like, getting told on a Thursday you were needed for a team building weekend or forgetting there was a paintball tournament on the morning you had to leave?”

  He tilts his head a little. “Maybe. Heading straight for the shower the moment they walk in the door is another.”

  “Oh God.” The air con wasn’t working in the car, so I’m all sweaty. I’m going to jump in the shower. I close my eyes as my stomach twists, and I drop my head back, hitting it against the cabinet door.

  “Hey, hey,” he cajoles, wrapping his hand around the back of my head to stop the destruction of brain cells. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. I didn’t know either. I found out when I stopped by a sick teammate’s place to drop the new training schedule off and found her car there. It was only after that I could look back and see the signs.”

  “How long were you married?” Is it wrong that I’m enjoying the way his fingers are making soothing motions in my hair?

  “Four years.”

  “Do you think it was happening the whole time?”

  “Maybe.” Shifting his hand to the side of my face, he pushes my hair back and inspects my forehead. “I think it’s my turn to get some ice for you.”

  “Only if you throw it at me then run away crying,” I say, attempting a joke.

  “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll try.” He smiles and releases my hair, placing his hand on the bench at my side. “Especially if we’re going to keep dragging up shitty memories.”

  “I’m sorry.” I feel like I’m always apologising to this guy. “You don’t even know me and I’m dumping all my shit on you and asking personal questions. Just…forget this ever happened, OK?”

  “It’s OK. It happens all the time.” He smiles warmly, and I spot a hint of a dimple.

  “Women frequently come in here and bang their head against your cupboards?”

  He laughs. “No. People ask personal questions.”

  “Oh. Of course, because you played rugby?”

  He looks at me with a slightly narrowed eye and a curious quirk to his mouth. “You didn’t know about my wife already?”

  “No. I don’t really make a habit out of googling football players. And I don’t read gossip magazines, so…”

  He lifts a hand and rubs the back of his neck. “That’s good to know.”

  Now it’s my turn to narrow my eye at him. “But you knew about my husband, didn’t you?”

  A sheepishness coats the smile he produces. “Esme might have mentioned the split. I wasn’t aware of the circumstances though.”

  “I’m not even sure of the circumstances. He walked out and I’m left trying to find a reason.”

  He bows his head slightly and catches my eye. “Sometimes people just don’t know what they have.”

  A slight pang hits me in the chest. Somehow, this man I barely know has managed to say something I dearly needed to hear. Years of feeling under appreciated and overlooked as a ‘homemaker’ has left me feeling undervalued. His words, simple as they are, provide me with a sense of worth. I was a good wife to Kevin. I know I was. He’s the one who ruined things.

  “Thank you,” I say, smiling slightly, and he shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

  “She talks about you a lot actually. Esme. All good things. I get the feeling you’re somewhat of a favourite.”
r />   “Well, she’s the best person I know. Coming here…I didn’t really give it much thought. I knew I had to come.”

  “She’s missed seeing you.”

  “I know. And I’ve missed her too. It was just…hard before. But I’ll be sure to visit more often.”

  “That’ll make her happy. Give us a chance to get to know each other too.”

  I laugh. “You actually want that after my head-beating display?”

  “Well, Ez thinks you’re cool, and I happen to think she’s a pretty good judge of character.”

  “Ez, huh? I guess that means you talk often?”

  He bounces a shoulder. “She’s my neighbour. I don’t have some weird old lady fetish or anything.”

  I bark out a laugh. “I wasn’t suggesting—” Closing my eyes, I shake my head. “I simply meant that you probably know more about me than I know about you. That must be an interesting change for you.”

  He folds his arms across his chest and nods appreciatively. “It is. It’s refreshing.”

  I’m a little on the back foot, unsure how to feel about his prior knowledge, or even his friendship with my grandmother. I feel this need to question him about what he knows and how close they really are, analyse every detail. But then I realise that I’m probably a little jealous because he’s been here with her and I’ve been, well, living the wrong life with the wrong man. I guess his friendship with Nana works in my favour. He’s been given the version of me Nana sees, the one where I’m still young and carefree, so full of potential, and I decide that’s refreshing for me too. He doesn’t know me as Darcy and Kevin. He only knows of me as Esme’s granddaughter and I’m OK with that.

  “Want to wipe this whole slate clean and try again?” he asks suddenly.

  “Try what?” I risk meeting his greeny-brown eyes and find them studying my face. He’s standing quite close. Oh, he smells nice. Like soap and warm skin. I’m a little dizzy.

  “I’m Leo,” he says, holding out his hand for me to shake. “I live next door to your nan.”

  For a moment I hesitate, but the kindness and sincerity in his eyes sees me slipping my small hand into his large one. “Darcy,” I practically whisper, a small smile playing on my lips. “I’m staying with her for a couple of weeks.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Darcy.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Leo.” I’m blushing because he’s close and we’re still holding hands and this feels really intimate.

  “OK,” he says, smiling as he shifts back a little. “Now that’s sorted, how would you like your ice? On your forehead or inside a drink?”

  I bite my lip. “Definitely inside a drink.”

  OVER THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, I stop by Leo’s daily to check on him. I figure it’s my duty since my kid is the reason he’s hurt, and Nana keeps cooking things for him, so it’s no real trouble. He invites me in each time and we have a drink together and talk. It’s maybe forty-five minutes out of my day, but I find myself looking forward to what us mums call ‘grown-up time’. I learn that he has a son a little older than Abigail, and that after his marriage ended badly, he hasn’t had a serious relationship. Although, he was married to a model—who is now an actress on Neighbours, a popular Aussie soap— so, I guess it’s kind of hard to top that. I felt so out of my depth when I learnt that. Something about hearing the word ‘model’ makes the rest of us girls feel like a wilting rose, or worse, one of those poor unfortunate souls from The Little Mermaid who couldn’t pay the Sea Witch back in time. Yikes. But, the information does help me relax around him. It tells me that not only is he out of my league, but that even if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have to worry. He’s in the same position as me, the left-behind and wounded, now a little guarded. It cancels out that possibility of male/female tension between us and means I can focus on being myself around him, which is something I haven’t had the luxury of doing for a very long time. Just Darcy. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

  The night before I’m due to go back home, Nana decides to take Archer and Abigail out to dinner and a movie as a farewell treat. She’s been a godsend while we’ve been here, looking after us all while I’ve licked my wounds and gathered my strength. The kids have had a ball, and I feel somewhat ready to face my life again, however that will look from this point forward.

  So, they’re out and I’m sitting alone on the deck, enjoying a glass of wine and a few more hours of peace. I haven’t forgotten that I still need to break the news of Kevin’s abandonment to the kids, but for now, I’m enjoying the pause on my life before I have to press play again.

  The smokey scent of BBQing beef floats past my nose and my stomach growls, suddenly craving whatever’s cooking. Nana’s vegan, so I haven’t had meat since we got here. Not that I mind, as Nana is a fantastic cook. She could make eating stones appetising. But I do miss my beef, and like a cartoon character following a scent trail, I rise from my seat, sniffing the air.

  “Oh my God, that smells amazing,” I say as I place my hands on the railing and lean over so I can see around the privacy screen that separates Leo’s deck from Nana’s.

  He’s standing over a smoking BBQ, turning a couple of steaks and smiling at me. He gets about without the need of a crutch now, only needs a brace on his bad knee for support. “If I knew the scent of cooking meat would lure you over here, I would have tried it out sooner.”

  “I see. This is a ploy to get me to come over?”

  He finishes with the meat and shuts the lid on his Weber. “Of course. I’ve got the steak and salad. You’ve got the wine, and from the commotion I heard earlier, you’re the only one home.”

  “I feel thoroughly spied on right now.”

  “Pitfalls of apartment living.” He shrugs as he moves closer and leans on the railing right next to me. “Get over here,” he says, inclining his head towards his apartment.

  With a grin that takes over my face, I bite my lip then grab the open bottle of wine, handing it to him before I collect mine plus a second glass and head around to him.

  “You’ve made an excellent decision, Darce. I’m told I cook a mean salad.”

  “What about your steaks?” I ask as he opens the gate for me. He takes the wine glasses from my hands and pulls a face.

  “Edible at best.”

  “Shame I’m not here longer, I could teach you how to make them so tender they melt in your mouth.”

  “I’m drooling just thinking about it,” he says, setting the glasses on the outdoor table before disappearing inside and coming out with a bowl of salad and two plates with cutlery.

  “Wow. You really did plan this.”

  “I had a little nudging from Esme. She told me you’d be eating on your own tonight, so I thought we could eat together since it’ll be our last chance to hang out. You didn’t mention you were leaving earlier.” He tops off my glass of wine and hands it to me before filling his own.

  “Well, my job here is done. You can walk, and I don’t think you’re planning on suing for damages, so…” I take a sip to hide my grin.

  He laughs as he takes a seat across from me. “This has been about buttering me up? The whole friendship thing was a fake.”

  I laugh in return and run my free hand through my hair. “You sound put out, Leo.”

  “I am. Who else is going to walk in here and beat their head against my refrigerator and talk to me every day?”

  “You had friends before I came along. I’m sure you’re looking forward to getting your life back. Between me and Archer, you probably feel like you don’t get a moment to yourself.” Archer has become adept at climbing around the privacy screen like a monkey. I’ve found him following Leo around, talking incessantly more often than not.

  “Archer’s a good kid,” he says with a smile. “Did you know that slugs have four noses?”

  I laugh. “I did not. He told you that?”

  “Sure did. Turns out, elephants are the only animal that can’t jump.”

  “See, I did know that one. Arche
r loves his weird and wonderful facts. Did he tell you the fascinating thing about koala fingerprints?”

  “No. But I’m on the edge of my seat here.”

  I lean forward like I’m about to let him in on a big secret. “Well, seems they’re so similar to humans that they’ve been suspected for committing crimes.”

  He sits back in mock horror. “I knew there was something insidious behind those little black eyes.”

  “It’s always the cute ones you’ve got to keep an eye on.”

  With the conversation flowing, that first glass of wine goes down pretty easy, as does half of the second.

  “I’m going to miss it here.” Pressing my lips together, I look out to the ocean and take a lungful of air. “It’s so much more peaceful than the suburbs. Life feels better here, you know?”

  He nods. “I do.”

  The scent of charcoal touches my nostrils, reminding me why I came over here. “I think the steak might be a little on the well-done side.”

  “Oh shit.” He jumps up and lifts the lid of his BBQ. Smoke billows everywhere and when he pulls out the steaks, they make a clinking sound against the plate. Meetings my eyes, he gives me a small shrug and a shamefaced grin. “I hope you like pizza.”

  EIGHT

  DARCY

  Leo clears away the pizza boxes, while I carry our plates into the kitchen. “You really do cook a great salad,” I say, placing the dishes in the sink.

  He laughs and leans against the bench, arms folded across his chest. “I warned you. I need help.”

  “I’ll write it all out for you before I leave.”

  “I’d prefer it if you came back and showed me.” He meets my eyes and his darken just a touch, creating this intensity that causes tension to build inside my chest. It’s been so long since I’ve looked at another man and felt this way that I’m out of practice and not sure how to respond. But I’m fairly sure I’m reading interest in his eyes. Which doesn’t make sense because he’s out of my league, right? We’re just friends. He knows my husband left me to find a better life. And Leo dates models and TV personalities and I’m…well, I’m not either of those things. I’m a suburban housewife—correction, I’m a suburban housemum. Retired rugby players who defy the aging process by becoming better looking at forty-five than they were at twenty are not supposed to look at suburban housemums this way. And when I say ‘this way’ I mean the way that men look at a woman when they’re asking about something innocent, but between the lines they’re really asking for sex.

 

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