Walking the Crimson Road

by Perrie Patterson

  The centerpiece on the table is a large display of fresh fruit sliced and paired with tiny jars of yogurt. I still feel like I’m in a fancy bed and breakfast. Renee and her husband Matt walk in carrying shoes and sweaters for the kids.

  Lane’s mom looks over at me. “Tell us about your church in Atlanta, Rebecca.”

  “It’s a large non-denominational church,” I say, then add some details about the campus locations and the style.

  “The church we’ll attend today is an Episcopal church. We normally attend a Catholic church in the city. But for many years our family has attended this church whenever we’re on the island.”

  I nod and smile. She says she’s heard of the pastor and remembers hearing him speak at Barack Obama’s pre-inauguration service.

  *****

  The church service is beautiful and formal. It’s totally different from the “rock band” mega church I attend in Atlanta. Lane and I sit next to the twins and try to keep them busy with crayons and paper. I can tell he adores his niece and nephew.

  After church our group descends on a European restaurant in town called Bistro de Soleil and is escorted to a private area where Lane’s sisters, Macy and Meg are sitting. Both have their boyfriends with them. Lane introduces me to Macy and her fiancé and says their wedding is in early June. Meg introduces her boyfriend from law school. I learn Meg is in her second year of law at Yale, and Macy works in New York for a publishing company.

  “Rebecca has won the writing contest in our journalism class and will have her story published in The New Yorker this summer,” Lane announces during lunch. Everyone at the table ooh’s” and “ahh’s and wants to know all about it. I give them a very brief description of the story, telling them it’s about a mother and son and that she reveals an incredible secret to him that will change his life forever.

  “I’ll actually be meeting with the editors in New York in about a week,” I add.

  Lunch is a very casual but long. By the time we’re back at the house it’s 3:30. Lane tells me he’s going to talk with his dad for a while, and they go into an office or library in the front of the house. Renee takes the kids upstairs to change clothes. I decide to hang out and talk with Lane’s sisters and the guys outside by the pool. Renee and Matt come out with the kids clad in swimsuits carrying pool floats and a sand bucket full of toys. The kids get in at the shallow end and Renee and Matt relax on lounge chairs near the pool steps.

  Meg looks at me and says, “I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’ll change into my swimsuit and come back out.”

  Macy agrees, and the three of us stand, leaving the guys to continue enjoying their beers. Meg and Macy wander down a long hall on the first floor, and I notice at least four doorways along the hallway. This house must have eight or nine bedrooms.

  Before I get to the staircase Lane pops out of the office and closes the door behind him.

  “Hey,” I say, startled.

  “Hey. Sorry about leaving you,” he says.

  “It’s okay, I’ve enjoyed getting to know your sisters. Everyone is changing into their swimsuits.” Lane seems a little distracted.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask. We get to the top of the stairs and he stops.

  “My dad always wants to know about my plans for school, career, future and all that. I think since I’m the only boy he looks to me as the family leader, even though I’m the youngest. My oldest sister, Renee, used to work as a campaign manager for a politician in Washington before she married Matt and decided to stay home with the twins. Matt’s a lawyer and is running for Mayor, since they moved to Connecticut five years ago. Meg is in law school but of course has a boyfriend, and dad thinks she’ll end up giving up her career to have a family. He and Mom have always wanted me to go to law school after I graduate. It’s time for me to apply, and I’ve given him some other ideas I’ve had and some options I’ve been thinking about.”

  We walk into my room and sit on the bed.

  “So, how’d that go?” I ask.

  “He took it better than I thought he would. He wants me to make sure I have a plan and a job lined up by fall.”

  I look into his eyes and see a tiny bit of stress creeping in. I pat his hand, not knowing what to say.

  “That’s why I wanted you here. You make everything feel right.”

  I smile and put my arms around him. He gently strokes my hair and kisses me on the forehead. “I’ll go change and meet you at the pool.” He stands and walks down to his room.

  I walk over to my bag, pull out one of the swimsuits I brought, pull my hair into a messy bun and walk back out to join Lane and the rest of the family poolside. A pool volleyball game has just started. Lane, Meg, her boyfriend Luke, and I are on one team. Macy, her fiancé Stephen, Renee and Matt are on the other team. If anyone were keeping score, I’d definitely say our team won. Lane puts me on his shoulders, and we celebrate. Meg and Luke do the same, and the next thing you know all the girls are on their guy’s shoulders, and we start tossing the ball around again.

  Greta comes outside with a tray of lemonade and cookies. Ross and Reagan put down the sidewalk chalk they were playing with and rush over to the table and take a cookie. Lane and I get out of the pool. The guys get beers in hand before they park themselves in pool chairs. I wrap a towel around myself and sit on Lane’s knee. Colleen walks out and announces that there’s a food truck event in town tonight and asks if we all want to go. Everyone’s in agreement that the food truck festival is a good idea.

  “The event is at the park and close enough that we can drive the golf carts,” Colleen informs us.

  I whisper in Lane’s ear, “What should I wear?”

  Lane laughs and starts tickling me, and I squeal and squirm, and almost fall off his lap before he catches me.

  He whispers back, “This is the perfect opportunity for you to show off your cutoff shorts.”

  Macy stands. “I better go change.”

  Stephen gets up to follow her. Renee tells Ross and Reagan to clean up. I hear one twin say, “Can we get some ice cream?” Meg and Luke go inside, which leaves Lane and me by ourselves. I drink the last drop of lemonade from my glass and scoop out a piece of ice. I start to pop it into my mouth, but instead I rub it across the back of Lane’s neck. He jumps, and I quickly hop off his lap, dropping my towel. He chases me around the pool until he catches me and picks me up, acting as if he is going to throw me in.

  “No, no, no, please no, don’t throw me in. My hair is almost dry.” I’m half laughing, half pleading with him.

  He sets me down and pulls me in and kisses my neck and continues all the way up to my mouth. I look at him shyly and feel weird kissing him when I’m not sure if anyone can see us from the windows. He notices I’m being really shy. I think he can tell it makes me nervous to show affection around his family. He picks me up, tosses me over his shoulder, and carries me upside down giggling into the kitchen before he sets me down. His mom and dad are watching The Master’s golf game on the large TV.

  His mom smiles at us and says, “You better be careful with her, Lane.” She gives him one of those Mom looks.

  45

  #Justbeachy

  The next morning, I put on my new bikini, since Lane and plan to spend the day on the beach. After tossing my portable speaker and sunscreen into a tote I bop down the stairs. It’s super quiet in the house, no sounds of munchkins running around. I walk into the kitchen to find a breakfast spread of fruit, bagels and juice on the counter with a note from Lane’s mom lying next to it. The guys have gone to play golf for most of the day. Renee and the kids are at their horseback riding lessons, and the girls and I are finishing birthday shopping for the twins. We’re meeting Renee and kids for lunch in town to wrap up all the details and plans for the birthday party tomorrow evening. Greta left breakfast for you guys, but lunch is on your own. Love, Mom.

  I fix myself a plate and turn on the speaker I brought down with me and set it to a Luke Bryan song. I’m dancing and sin
ging as I spread cream cheese on my bagel when Lane comes up behind me. Surprised, I scream and turn around. He puts his hand around my waist and pulls me to him. “I love to hear you sing,” he says with a huge grin on his face.

  “You scared me to death,” I say, out of breath.

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  “Okay, so you want to dance with me?” I give him a questioning come hither look.

  I turn the volume up, take his hand, and pull him out to the center of the kitchen, swaying and dancing as I go. Lane follows along and we’re dancing and laughing hysterically. He picks me up and sets me on the counter. I wrap my legs around his waist. Both of us only in our swimsuits start making out. I’m much more into it than I was yesterday, since I know no one is home. Suddenly Greta walks into the kitchen carrying a stack of beach towels. She looks at us but keeps walking out to the pool and sets them on a table. I laugh and press my face into Lane’s chest embarrassed to be caught by the housekeeper.

  Lane lifts my chin up and says, “Bex, it’s just Greta. We were just kissing. It’s okay, really.”

  I roll my eyes, hop off the counter, and turn the volume down on my portable speaker. To change the subject, I say, “How about we pack a picnic?”

  “Great idea, I’ll find a cooler.”

  Lane and I busy ourselves making sandwiches and packing fruit and cheese into our container. He throws in a few beers and some bottled water.

  “I think we’re set,” he says, closing the lid.

  I grab my speaker and phone and pick up two towels from the table as we pass the pool toward the path leading to the beach. We set our stuff in the sand. When I take off running into the water, Lane chases me in. We play and splash around a while then head back to the beach. I spread out my towel and lie on my back. Lane does the same. He reaches out for my hand, and we lie there, holding hands with our eyes closed while the warm spring sun dries our skin and warms us up.

  We fell asleep. I open my eyes and look at Lane. He’s definitely asleep. I flip over onto my stomach and turn on some music just quiet enough to hear but not loud enough to wake him. I scroll through some posts on Instagram for a few minutes until Lane rolls onto his side and props up on his elbow.

  With a sweet grin he asks, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “You were too cute sleeping. In fact, we both fell asleep. I just woke up a few minutes ago.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s 1:30. We slept for a while. Are you hungry?”

  I open the cooler and take out a bag of grapes. Lying on my side, facing him, I pop a grape into my mouth and grab another. I try to throw it into his mouth when he starts to yawn. I miss and try again.

  “Hand me some grapes,” Lane says, trying to catch the ones I keep throwing at his mouth.

  “Finally got one.” I say, as one flies back at me and hits me in the nose. We continue trying to throw grapes into each other’s mouths until they’re all eaten. Lane opens the cooler and pulls out a beer.

  “Do you want your sandwich?” he asks.

  “That’d be great.” I say, sitting up cross-legged as he hands me a sandwich and a bottle of water.

  “Cheers, to the best boyfriend in the world.” I touch my water to his beer.

  Lane shakes his head. “No, to the best girlfriend in the world.”

  I smile to myself, thinking this is way too perfect. Suddenly a football lands next to us. Lane picks it up and jumps up to throw it back to the guys it belongs to. I watch as he runs and throws the ball to them. He’s muscular and athletic, with a hint of a six pack but nothing like a swimmer’s body. Just the really nice toned body of a model. Lane starts throwing the ball back and forth with the other two guys. Realizing it’s his cousins, Conor and John, I get up and start walking toward them. They notice me and shout, “Hey, Bex!” Conor throws the ball to me, and I actually catch it, but I’m not so good at throwing it back. We toss the ball around for a while, then John asks if we want to meet up with them later at a place called The Beachcomber.

  “We can meet at 7:00 for dinner. There’s a band playing at 9:00. We might need to buy tickets online,” he says.

  Lane looks over at me. “What do you say, Bex? The Beachcomber’s a beach bar on the North end of Cape Cod directly on the water.”

  “Sounds cool. I’m in.”

  “I’ll go in and see about tickets for the concert. We’ll meet you guys there.” Lane tosses the football to Conor, then we walk back toward our stuff we left on the beach.

  Moments later, I set the towels down in a pool chair as we walk by. Lane takes the cooler inside and says, “I’m going to purchase tickets for the band at The Beachcomber. I’ll be right back.”

  I nod and spread out my towel on a lounge chair. Pulling my phone out of the tote, I flip open my Spotify playlist, set it on shuffle, then turn on my speaker. Lane walks out and sits down next to me.

  “We have tickets for the band tonight. We should probably leave before 6:30.”

  “What should I wear? I know, I know, it’s the question of the day. I’m just not used to dressing up as much.”

  “This place is a total dive bar. It’s really casual. They’re only open this week and next week for spring break. Their official season opens late May.”

  “It sounds fun,” I say, spraying Coppertone on my shoulders and chest.

  “Here let me spray some sunscreen on you, we’ve been out here for a while.” I say holding the can of Coppertone toward Lane.

  Half an hour later our tranquil pool time is interrupted by squeals of laughter and splashing. Lane’s mom and sisters have returned with the kids.

  “Watch me, Uncle Lane,” Ross says in midair landing a cannon ball with a splash.

  Reagan copies her brother. Lane jumps in with them, and the twins converge on top of him. He takes turns lifting them up and throwing them as high as he can into the deep end. I watch in total amusement from the lounge chair. Macy, Meg, and Renee have changed into their suits and joined us.

  The kids move on to playing with pool floats, so Lane gets out and dries off. Colleen walks up with a glass of tea in her hand.

  “The tent and table rental people will be here to set up for the party at 10 a.m. tomorrow. The giant Star Wars spaceship bounce house should arrive by 4 p.m., and the caterers around 4:30. The party starts at 5:00. So, we’ll need some help blowing up balloons and setting up Star Wars decorations around 3:00.” She turns and looks in Lane’s direction.

  Lane says, “Sure, Bex and I can help with anything. We can even take the kids out for the day and keep them busy until you need us to work on setting up. By the way, Bex and I made plans for dinner with Conor and Jack. We’re meeting them at The Beachcomber at 7:00 and staying for a concert. We’ll be home late.”

  The guys arrive back from their day of golf and join us by the pool. Greta follows behind them with a tray of drinks and snacks. Colleen tells Don that Lane and I are going out with Conor and Jack tonight. Lane’s dad gives him a stern look. “Stay out of trouble and no bar fights,” he says to Lane.

  I arch my eyebrows at that statement. I’m glad I’m wearing sunglasses. Wonder what that’s about?

  Lane gets out of his pool chair and offers me his hand. “We’re going to get ready to leave. Don’t wait up for us.”

  I follow behind him, waving to everyone as we walk into the house.

  In my room I pull out my favorite pair of ripped jeans and a sleeveless lace top, pair it with sparkly sandals and curl my hair. I add a touch more makeup than usual, hoping to look a little older since I’m not sure what this New England beach bar scene will be like.

  A knock on my door startles me, I crack it open and see Lane leaning against the doorframe.

  “Wow.” You look amazing.” He whistles, nodding his head in approval.

  Lane looks like he stepped out of GQ with his shirt unbuttoned half-way down. A look of style and money exudes from his every pore. He reaches for my hand, and we walk down t
he staircase.

  When we get into the McLaren, he leaves the top on, since it’s only 56 degrees tonight.

  “Do you mind if I pick the first song?” I ask. I choose Keith Urban’s “John Cougar, John Deere, John 3:16” and start jamming. I can tell by Lane’s grin he approves of either the dancing or the song. I turn the volume down and look at him.

  “So, you didn’t want to play golf with your dad and the guys today?”

  “No, I would’ve had to leave you. I knew Mom and Renee were going to be busy with shopping for the kids and last-minute party arrangements, giving us a day to ourselves. I’m glad we got to spend the whole day together.”

  “Me, too.” I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “What did your dad mean when he said don’t get into any bar fights?”

  Lane chuckles. “That was referring to Conor. He got into a fight in Aspen over Christmas break when we went out for my birthday. Don’t worry, everything will be fun tonight. I’ll probably have to play golf with Dad and the guys later in the week. After the birthday party is over you and Mom and my sisters can spend some time together shopping on Wednesday.”

  “Yes, I think I would enjoy that a lot.”

  We pull up to The Beachcomber and can actually park on the beach right at the front door. Lane gives a valet some cash to keep an eye on his car and we head to the entrance.

  Inside, the appearance doesn’t disappoint with wood floors and wood beams on the ceiling accented in colored lights and beer signs. This is the perfect beach bar. We meander through the tables of people out to the patio area with amazing views of the ocean and the sunset. Conor yells for us to come over where he, John and a couple of girls have a table.

  Lane orders a fruity drink for me with a Rum floater on top, and I only drink half, switching over to water, trying to be conscious of not drinking too much. Lane and I share a delicious lobster roll. It’s a lot of fun hanging with his cousins and their friends. When I leave to go to the bathroom, I come back to find more girls camped out at our table. One of them is absolutely drop dead gorgeous with long dark hair and beautiful features. Come to find out, it’s John’s sister and some of her friends. I panicked for a minute. The fear of losing Lane to someone more dynamic, more intelligent or more beautiful always looms in the back of my brain.