Until Then (Cape Harbor)

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “Speak of the devil.” Bowie pushed away from the table with his phone in his hand and disappeared down the hall. Rennie watched until he was out of sight, wondering why Graham called instead of showing up.

  “I’m exhausted,” Brooklyn stated for all to hear. When Rennie looked at her, she had her arms stretched over her head and yawned. “Four a.m. is going to come so early.”

  “We could sleep in and wait until Cyber Monday,” Rennie suggested. “The sales are just as good, and we don’t have to get dressed, fight for a parking spot, deal with traffic, or carry bags through busy malls.” All valid points, even though she wanted the one-on-one time with Brooklyn.

  “True, but I like to touch what I’m buying. I want to see the box, read the fine print, and make sure the product is quality.”

  “You mean unlike the snuggly blanket you found online that only fit a Barbie doll?” Brystol asked her mom.

  “Exactly!” Brooklyn exclaimed. “This is why I can’t be trusted to shop online.” She looked directly at Rennie. “And don’t even get me started on reviews. You know most of them are fake anyway.”

  Rennie scoffed but secretly agreed. She had been burned a time or two with deals that seemed too good to be true, and when the product arrived not to her liking or the specifications on the website, she had to battle some foreign entity for a refund. Black Friday shopping would commence in the morning.

  Bowie came back into the room and paused as he held his phone in his hand, looked from the device to the table where his family and friends sat, and moved slowly toward his seat.

  “What’s wrong?” Brooklyn asked as Bowie sat next to her. She reached out and put her hand over his.

  “It’s Grady.” Bowie paused and glanced at his phone. “He’s in the hospital in Port Angeles.”

  “Was that Graham? What did he say?” Brooklyn fired off her questions in rapid succession.

  “He asked me to check the ferry schedule, and he’d let me know. Nothing else.”

  “I’m going to drive over,” Rennie blurted out.

  Brooklyn turned sharply toward her friend. “Why?”

  Rennie stood slowly as she composed her thoughts. Her gut told her she needed to be there for Graham. Sure, they weren’t as close as they used to be, but he was still her friend. “I don’t know. I just need to be there for him. Make sure he and his parents are okay.”

  “I’ll go with you. I know George. He’s probably sitting outside. He hasn’t dealt with Grady very well,” Bowie added.

  “Okay,” Brooklyn sighed. “You guys go—keep me updated.”

  Rennie saw the disappointment in Brooklyn’s eyes. Was it because Bowie decided to go, or was it because Rennie was leaving, and it likely meant no shopping trip for tomorrow? The drive alone would be at least seven hours round trip.

  Against her better judgment, Rennie took the elevator back to her room. She hated small confined spaces and especially feared metal boxes that rattled, squeaked, and shook. She was in a hurry, though, and wanted to get on the road. She changed into a pair of jeans and an oversize sweatshirt, packed her yoga pants, grabbed her laptop and the book she recently started, and threw her toothbrush in her bag just in case. Rennie had no idea what to expect but wanted to be prepared in case it meant a restless night in one of the uncomfortable waiting-room chairs.

  She took the stairs on her way back down, and instead of walking through the ballroom and to the secret door, Rennie went out the front door of the inn. She hadn’t expected to find a valet driver working on Thanksgiving night and had planned to get her car from the parking lot. She also hadn’t expected to find Bowie waiting for her.

  “I figured I would drive. I know the roads a bit better, and I have a feeling George will want to come back to town later.”

  Rennie nodded and slid into the front seat. She closed the door, buckled up, and sighed. “Am I being presumptuous?”

  “It’s hard to say. We don’t know what we’re going to find. For all we know, they could be on their way home.”

  “Do you think that?” she asked.

  Bowie shook his head. “No. I think if Grady was in the hospital and it wasn’t urgent, Graham takes the long way around. As it is, I have a bad feeling.”

  “Me too.” Rennie knew only what Brooklyn had told her about Grady. When she saw Graham, his brother was never a topic of conversation, and she understood why. Grady’s outburst over the summer had left a bad taste in her mouth. He had been volatile toward Brooklyn while they sat around the bonfire meant to honor Austin, pointing his finger and slurring his words as he cursed at her friend, telling Brooklyn it was she who should’ve died, not Austin. Rennie had been warned that Grady was the town drunk, and he proved everyone’s words to be true that night. She didn’t want to think about what Grady had done to land himself in the hospital.

  Rennie and Bowie passed the time in the car talking about Christmas and what he could get Brooklyn. While he drove, Rennie pulled up the ads for all the home-improvement stores and rattled off a list of tools Brooklyn would love. Bowie suggested Rennie buy a fixer-upper and have Brooklyn help her restore the home, and Rennie countered with how the handy-dandy couple needed their own reality show. They sang songs that came on the radio. Rennie and Bowie talked about Brystol and how fast she was growing up. Bowie spoke about his fears when it came to boys, recalling the way he was when he first met Brooklyn.

  Rennie smiled when she thought about meeting Graham for the first time. She remembered the moment when Brooklyn told her she was moving north and how heartbroken she had been. The beginning of her junior year of high school depressed her. She missed her best friend. However, when spring break came, Rennie’s world changed with her first trip to Cape Harbor. She met Graham and fell in love for the first time.

  At some point during the drive, Rennie fell asleep. Bowie shook her gently to wake her up when he pulled into the parking lot. She made sure to take her bag with her and pulled her phone out and sent a text to Graham. I’m here at the hospital. Where are you?

  “I texted Graham to find out where he is,” Rennie said as she and Bowie walked into the hospital. A security guard put his hand up to stop them.

  “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”

  “Oh,” they said in unison. Neither of them had even thought about restricted hours.

  “Do you have family here?”

  Rennie nodded. “My brother-in-law was admitted earlier. I’m bringing my husband a change of clothing.” She patted her bag for emphasis.

  “And you, sir?” The guard directed his attention to Bowie.

  “I’m a cousin. I’m here to pick up my aunt and uncle to take them home. They’re elderly.”

  Rennie liked how quick Bowie was on his feet. The guard asked for their names, and once again, Rennie lied. She had an answer for him, too, if he asked why her identification read Wallace instead of Chamberlain. The guard gave Bowie and Rennie name tags and said they had to wear them at all times. He pointed to the general waiting room, where other families had gathered.

  The waiting room had the open-concept feel to it. You could see staff walking up and down halls, hear the intercom and the click the doors made when people swiped their key cards. There was one television suspended in the corner and set to a news channel. The volume was off, but those interested could read the subtitles. They sat down away from others and waited for Graham.

  “What if Grady hurt someone? What if someone in this area is waiting for word on a loved one Grady hurt?”

  “Don’t think like that, Bowie.” Rennie had the same thoughts but didn’t want to express them. One of them needed to remain positive.

  “I can’t help it.”

  Neither can I.

  Rennie spotted Graham, the tall dirty-blond-haired man with green eyes whose crooked smile could make her heart skip a beat, coming down the hallway, and she rushed over to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed the side of her face to his chest. “I’m so sorry.” Her
words were automatic and heartfelt. Regardless of everything going on in their lives and the separation between them, she would always care for him. “What happened?”

  Graham pulled away and clasped his hand with Rennie’s. “I see Bowie over there. I might as well tell you both at the same time.”

  She nodded, and they walked toward Bowie, who pulled his friend into a hug as soon as Graham neared.

  The three of them sat down, with Graham in the middle, who continued to hold Rennie’s hand. “Grady was found on the side of the road. He overdosed, but the officer who found him had Narcan. He coded on his way here. They revived him . . .” Graham paused and covered his face with his hands. Rennie put her arm around him and hugged him as best she could. She considered telling him everything would be okay, but the words would be empty. Graham cleared his throat and continued to speak, telling them everything the doctor had said. “Bottom line, if my brother survives, it’s going to take a miracle and then another one to get him into rehab.”

  “He didn’t hurt anyone, did he?” Bowie asked.

  Graham shook his head. “Not that I know. My mom is with Grady now, but I asked one of the nurses, and she said she wasn’t aware.”

  Rennie’s grip on Graham’s hand tightened. She couldn’t imagine what he felt or the thoughts going through his mind. She was an only child, and Brooklyn was the closest she had to a sibling. When Austin died, she had done her best to be by Brooklyn’s side but couldn’t put her life on hold. Not like the friends Brooklyn had in Cape Harbor.

  “You guys didn’t have to come up here,” Graham said.

  “I wanted to be here for you,” Rennie told him. He looked into her eyes, and she felt her heart beat faster than it should. They had an undeniable connection, one she never questioned. One she never thought she had, too, until recently.

  “And I figured George would be itching to get out of here,” Bowie added with a hint of humor.

  Graham laughed. “You have no idea. He’s so lost in his head, thinking Grady is fine. Even when a doctor tells him his son is going to die if he doesn’t get help, my dad doesn’t believe what he’s hearing.”

  “When you’ve lived in denial for so long, it’s hard to overcome the emotion and face reality. I’m sure he acted the way he did because he was afraid to lose Grady,” Bowie said.

  “Well, now he has no choice.” Graham sighed. “Anyway, I’m sure if you offer him a ride home, he’ll take you up on it. You guys really didn’t need to come all the way here.”

  “You need us. You would’ve done the same.” Rennie squeezed Graham’s hand to bring her message home.

  At Graham’s suggestion, they took the stairs down to the cafeteria, where they found George watching television. He was gruff with his hello but perked right up when Bowie offered to take him back to town. It was clear to Graham that his father was uncomfortable and wanted to go home, which made him angry. He should be there for Grady. George should stay for his wife.

  “Dad, before you leave with Bowie, you should stop in and see Grady. And say goodbye to Mom.”

  George grumbled some unintelligible response, which Graham took as a “Yes, son, you’re right,” even though he knew his father would never say such a thing. He sensed his pleas fell on deaf ears when it came to his father. Graham thought about pressing his father for a solid answer but knew it would only piss the old man off, so he turned his attention toward Rennie. He pulled her into a hug and thanked her for coming. She pulled away and shook her head. “I’m not leaving you, Graham.”

  EIGHT

  The shrill sound of the phone ringing jolted Graham out of bed. One hand fumbled for his phone, determined to stop the noise before his roommate woke up, while the other hand worked to remove his entangled legs from the bedding.

  “He . . . ,” he croaked. Graham cleared his throat and took a deep breath to calm his rapidly beating heart. Before he could regain any semblance of composure, he looked at the clock and saw that it was shortly after three in the morning. Who could be on the other line this early—or rather, late? Was something wrong with his mom or dad? His brother? “Hello?”

  “Graham.”

  Rennie. His mind relaxed. It wasn’t uncommon for her to call at all hours of the night. Most of the time, she’d forgotten what time it was because of her all-night study sessions and would call him when she couldn’t fall asleep.

  “Hey, Ren,” he said quietly, so as to not wake his roommate. Graham kicked his blankets straight and lay back down, bringing the comforter over his head to give himself some privacy, of which his dorm room offered none.

  “Graham Cracker, I need you.”

  Graham’s heart stopped. Was this the moment he had waited for after all these years? Did Rennie feel the same way? Or was this another booty call, to which he would give Rennie Wallace anything she asked?

  Graham was a fool’s fool. While he was smart—top of his class—when it came to Rennie, he was as stupid as they came. She could tell him to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, and he would ask her to name the date and time. Graham was in love with her. Rennie wasn’t in love with him. Not the way it mattered, at least.

  “What’s wrong?” He closed his eyes and imagined her with him under the covers with only a flashlight illuminating the space. They had done that once or twice, back when they were in Cape Harbor and Rennie visited for the summer after their junior year of high school ended. The group had gone camping along the river. The guys were going to fish all day while the girls sunbathed and swam in the river. According to everyone’s parents, the boys needed to stay in their own tents. The same went for the girls. Of course, everyone agreed until they arrived at the campsite and paired off.

  “I think I’m in trouble.”

  “What happened?” Those five words woke Graham up. The grogginess he felt dissipated quickly.

  “I don’t want to say over the phone. Can you come here?”

  “I’m on my way.” He hung up and sprang out of bed. He dressed in the dark, thankfully remembering where he had left his sweatpants from the previous day. He found a T-shirt hanging out of his drawer, sniffed, and determined it was clean before slipping it on. He spun around his room, trying to recall where he kicked his sneakers off. Graham got down on his hands and knees and felt around in the darkness until he found them.

  When it came to clothes, disorderly was the word used to describe Graham. However, he always seemed to know where everything was. He kept his wallet and keys in a dish on top of his dresser, which made them easy to find in the darkness.

  Outside his dorm room, he slipped his shoes on and walked down the hall as quietly and quickly as he could. If his resident advisor saw him leave, he would ask questions. The dorms had curfews, and his RA was a stickler for the rules. With the recent spike in gang-related activity, San Jose State University wanted their students to be safe. Leaving at three in the morning to drive to Santa Clara University wouldn’t fall under the safety category.

  The motion-sensor lights on campus forced Graham to stay in the shadows until he reached the parking lot. He had an excuse ready if campus security stopped him: he needed antacids. Graham was a pro at faking a stomachache.

  Graham’s four-door silver Honda came to life on the second try. He slipped it into reverse and pulled out of the parking spot, purposely keeping his lights off until he faced away from the dorms. When he came to the intersection to leave campus, he turned his lights on and signaled to merge onto the road and drove the little over seven miles down the road to Rennie’s school. He parked near the student center, a place where he was unlikely to get a ticket, and walked through campus to her dorm. He hoped Rennie would be in the vestibule waiting for him. Otherwise, he had no chance of getting into her dorm.

  As he grew closer, he saw her sitting on a bench. He sat down beside her and placed his arm behind her. She burrowed into him and clutched his T-shirt with her fist.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she told him. “I just neede
d to see you.”

  Graham sighed. He suspected the guy she had been seeing dumped her, broke her heart because, according to her, he was the one. Graham hated every guy she dated. None of them were ever good enough, not when he was the one who wanted to be with her. Someday, Graham would take a chance on telling her, to put himself out there to her finally. He longed for a time when they would be more than friends with benefits, although he wasn’t willing to give that part of their relationship up anytime soon.

  Graham adjusted the way he sat on the bench and held Rennie close to his chest. When it came down to why he was there, with her, it wouldn’t matter, because when she needed him, he ran to her.

  Rennie shivered, and his grip tightened. “Do you want to tell me why you called at three a.m.?”

  She picked her head up off his chest and angled herself to look at him. “Can’t a girl just call her best guy to come over when she needs him?”

  “Aren’t you dating what’s his face?”

  “You know his name is Thomas.”

  “Right, Tommy,” Graham said with disdain.

  “Thomas,” she corrected. Graham didn’t care. They weren’t friends and never would be.

  “Whatev’, Ren.” He quieted and tried to pull her back to his chest.

  “Anyway, we’re not really dating anymore. He moved to Venice to start some print shop or something. Told me to give him a call when I graduated, and we’d hook up.”

  “What an idiot,” Graham mumbled. Rennie jabbed him in his side, and he flinched. “Sorry, can’t help it. You’re so much better than he is, and you’re better off without him. He brought you down to a level I didn’t like to see.” To Graham, Thomas was beneath Rennie. He didn’t have a car and used Rennie for a ride everywhere. No life ambition other than smoking weed and vegging out in front of the television. Graham had caught him mocking Rennie one time for her career choice, saying lawyers were nothing more than politicians trying to take away people’s rights. Rennie couldn’t see through Thomas’s bullshit, though, and that bothered Graham.