by Mason, Dana
“I gotta go.”
I nod and take a step back. Reluctantly, he turns and walks toward the security line. I stand and watch him until he’s all the way through and out of sight. Then I drop down into a chair and just sit there, unable to move.
I don’t know what I was expecting but now that he’s gone, I’m sure this is going to hurt a hell of a lot more than I thought it would. When I finally stand, I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting there, but I get up, and I move forward, and I order an Uber to take me back to the resort. When I arrive and enter the lobby, there’s nobody around. It’s well past two in the morning, and most people are in bed. I ride the elevator up and stop in front of the door to my room. Turning around, I look at Drew’s door, staring at it for a long time, remembering the first time we met.
I finally enter my room and go straight to the minibar. I promised to look after myself but I didn’t promise I’d stay sober. I grab all six little bottles of vodka and two bottles of orange juice. I take the bottles, cradled in my left arm, grab a glass from the bar and carry everything to the lanai, where I proceed to get smashed… all by myself.
* * *
I wake under the bright but misty sky. I’m covered in morning dew… not cold, but damp from the misty Hawaiian rain. I’m still outside, still in the red dress Drew gave me… I’m also still wearing the leis. I lift them to my nose and fight to keep from crying. I miss him. Badly.
After a minute of self-pity, I stretch and slowly get up. Inside, the bed is still rumpled from when Drew and I made love yesterday afternoon. I remember his possessive hands all over my body, the tender way he kissed my skin, the way he had me crying out in pleasure, and I hug myself. I don’t want to sleep there until after the sheets have been changed. It smells like him, and I need to purge him from my system. Even though that kills me.
I throw my hair in a ponytail and change into my swimsuit before grabbing a towel, cover-up, book, and my room key. I need to be outside.
I wander down to the outdoor bar and pay for a cabana rental for the entire day. It’s ironic, given that before Drew, I didn’t want to be anywhere near the beach. My cabana is oceanfront, and it comes with bar service. Good thing because I don’t want to be sober––not at all.
The ocean is surprisingly soothing. The sky is bright, and just like my first day here, rainbows shine in the distance. I can smell the plumeria as the scent drifts through the heavy, humid air. I’ve never been anywhere that’s smells as good as Maui. Back home, I can walk past a bed of jasmine or an orange tree and smell the sweet blossoms, but here, the air itself smells good, all the time. It’s truly wonderful.
Staring at the shore, I’m forced to think about Tucker. After spending the last few years avoiding the beach, I feel like a lost love has returned, thanks to Drew. No, not the love of my husband––which will always be there––but the love of the sea. Being here with Drew was refreshing… a gift, really. He gave me a moment of freedom; freedom from grief, freedom to get back to something I used to love. But that freedom was short-lived because sitting here now, it’s hard to ignore the fact that my husband drowned in this same ocean. I want to forget it, I want to move on, but I’m not strong enough.
I told Mac I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want a week in paradise. I’d much rather spend a week in the mountains alone.
Isn’t life funny like that?
If he had planned the vacation I’d asked for, I never would have met Drew and I never would have had these last few days of freedom. So, now what? Drew isn’t here to distract me.
I sigh as I sip the vodka tonic the waitress delivered, and then carry it to the waterline. With a deep breath, I step in… three or four more steps and the warm waves are brushing my thighs. It feels good. I can’t deny, I want to do this. I want to get back to life before death––it’s just coming to grips with doing shit like this alone.
My drink splashes a little as I drop into the water. I don’t care. I’m sitting in the sand, and the waves are now grazing just below my shoulders. I lift my knees and rest my hands on them. The water is perfect, and I find myself smiling, looking up toward the beautiful blue sky.
I love you, Tucker. I really do, but I need to move forward without you.
Fourteen
Drew
I’ve been home for nearly a full week and I still can’t keep my mind from wandering. Wandering? Ha! No, not wandering: I straight up can’t stop thinking about her. I cannot get her off my mind. I want to know if she made it home okay. I want to know how she’s doing. Fucking Christ, I want to touch her.
I knew this would be hard, but I seriously underestimated just how distracted I’d be. It’s crazy. I glance up at the clock. This time last week, I was sitting on the beach, watching the sunset with her in my arms, preparing to say goodbye. Now I’m back to reality and it’s just not the same.
When I hear the screeching alarm, I fight the instinct to cover my ears.
“Dad! What is that?” Hannah has her little palms over her ears and she’s running in circles. Kyle has his head on the table, laying among the scattered Lego pieces, and he also has his hands over his ears.
“It’s the smoke alarm. Hold on, it’ll stop in a minute.” I pull the smoking pan from the oven and throw it in the sink, then I grab a pot holder and run over to the blaring alarm. After a few minutes of fanning, it finally stops.
“Dad, did you burn dinner?” Hannah asks as soon as the alarm stops sounding.
“Go turn that fan on. Kyle, open the front door so we can blow out some of the smoke.”
I walk back over to the range and click the vent fan on, fighting to keep from cussing in front of the kids. How in the hell did I manage to burn something so damn simple? Kyle walks over and glances into the sink at the black chicken nuggets.
Then he shrugs. “That’s okay. I didn’t want chicken nuggets anyway.”
An instant laugh bursts out. “I didn’t either. How about pizza?”
He looks at me thoughtfully and finally nods. “I can eat some pizza.”
Hannah starts jumping up and down. “Yay! Pizza!”
I snatch the page of coupons off the fridge and dial the number listed, walking into the living room to escape the smell of smoke. Stopping in front of the fireplace, my eyes land on the photo. Maybe I should just put the damn thing in a drawer. Looking at it every day only makes me feel worse. Not to mention the questions it’s raised. Between my mom and the kids, I can’t escape the reminders.
I finish my pizza order and end the call. Staring at the photo, I know I need to stop this. I haven’t had any luck in my search for her, which makes me think I need to work at getting her out of my system. I can’t help but wonder if she found the card I stashed in her suitcase. Did she find it and throw it away? Would she? I find it hard to believe she isn’t missing me too. Glancing down, I see Hannah watching me.
“Do you miss your friend, Daddy?”
I fight the frown as it tugs at my lips. “Can you tell?”
She reaches her hand up and motions to the photo. “Can I look too?”
I pick up the picture of Emily and me standing next to a helicopter and give it to Hannah.
“She’s pretty.” She whispers it, like it’s a secret, and that makes me smile.
“I think so too.”
“Are you okay, Daddy?”
Her question makes me chuckle. She’s pretty damn observant for a six-year-old. “I’m fine, honey. Thank you for asking.”
“It’s hard to say goodbye to friends.”
I bend down and kiss the top of her head. “Yes, it is, but we don’t want to let that keep us from making new friends.”
“I miss my friends too,” she says.
“I know, but don’t worry. You’ll be back in school real soon.”
“How many days?”
This is a new thing for her. She’s really learning to grasp time and distance. It amazes me, the changes between this time last year and now. Entering first grade
is a huge step and watching her grow really makes me miss her mother. Kayla is missing the milestones she was so looking forward to.
“Do you remember how many days it was yesterday?” I ask, testing her.
“Um…” Her eyes drift to the right, then they shift back to me. “Yesterday was twenty-eight days… so today is twenty-seven days.”
“That’s right. School starts in twenty-seven days.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” Kyle blurts from the kitchen table.
I lift my hands in question and look over at him. “I thought you liked school.”
“I have Mrs. Woods this year. She’s horrible, Dad, and like a hundred years old.”
“Give her a chance before you judge, you may end up really liking her. And who cares how old she is?”
Hannah tugs on my belt. “But, Daddy, what about the school fair? Are we going?”
“School fair? What school fair?”
“Auntie Jennie put the flyer on the fridge. Remember? It’s the Saturday before school starts.”
I vaguely remember something about the school’s renaming ceremony. I walk over to the fridge and read the flyer. Lifting my phone, I add it to my calendar, so I don’t forget again. “You guys really want to go to this thing?” I glance around and say, “You know it’s not your typical fair?”
“Yes! Yes!” Hannah jumps up and down. “My friends might be there.” Her eyes widen in excitement, and she points. “Dad! Maybe your new friend will be there too.”
And just like that, my Emily-free mind is filled with her again. I shake my head.
“I really doubt it, honey.”
After the pizza’s been eaten, the kitchen is clean, and the kids are in bed, I grab a beer and my laptop before heading out to the back patio. After a full day of kids’ stuff, I need a place to clear my head and relax. I drop into a patio chair and open my laptop. This is how I’ve spent every evening since returning home. I open my laptop and search for Emily.
Before I have time to get the machine booted up, I hear, “What’s up, Drew?”
I pop my head up and look over toward the side fence just as the gate opens. My neighbor is sneaking in through the gate quietly to keep from waking the kids.
“Hey, Jake, what’s happening?”
He clicks the gate closed behind him gently and lifts two beers. “Brought you a beer.”
“Thanks, but you’re too late,” I say, gesturing to my bottle. When my computer prompts, I go straight to Google.
“How’s work?” he asks. “Glad to be back at it?”
“Busy, but that’s what I get for taking three weeks off.”
“You’re not one of the construction crews working on that new commercial building on K Street?”
“No. That’s not us. We put in a bid, but didn’t get it.” I shrug and say, “Probably a good thing, I don’t have enough guys right now for a huge job like that.”
Jake sits in the patio chair facing me and gestures toward the laptop. “You find your lady yet?”
I press my lips together and shake my head. “No luck yet.”
“That’s a raw deal.”
“I know, but maybe I’ll get lucky.”
“Weird she isn’t on Facebook. Isn’t everyone on there?” He lifts his beer and swigs before saying, “Or Instagram. That seems to be more popular these days. My sister can’t stay off that shit. She’s constantly posting her workouts and food.” He shrugs. “And what’s up with that? Why the fascination with people taking pictures of their food?”
I laugh at that because I don’t get it either. “I wish I knew.”
Jake’s laughing too and as I type the words “Emily Thomas California” into the Google search bar, he says, “You know, Drew, we have this hot new receptionist at work. Why don’t you let me set you up?”
That really makes me crack up.
“Hell, no! The last time you set me up, it was a disaster.”
“What are you talking about? Mandy was a great catch, you’re the one who blew it.”
I whip my head around to stare at him. “Blew it? You’re kidding. That woman couldn’t run away fast enough when she found out I had kids.”
He points to me. “That was your fault for telling her.”
“They’re two small human beings, they’re a bit hard to keep secret. Besides, I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t love my kids.”
“See.” He points my way again. “That’s your problem. You’re too freaking honest and nice. Too damn transparent.”
“Bullshit! I just spent a week with a woman without even exchanging phone numbers. I couldn’t be less transparent.”
“And that’s another point. You should have forced it on her. You should have just told her where you live. Dude, she could be from around here.”
“I couldn’t do that. She had her reasons for not wanting to know. I couldn’t force it on her.” I start checking links before saying, “I’m pretty sure she’s from California though.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“She specifically said she wasn’t from Southern California.” I lift a shoulder in a shrug. “If she wasn’t from California at all, she would have just said she wasn’t from California but because she added Southern, I’d bet money she’s somewhere up here in NorCal.”
“That’s a fair point. But may I suggest that when you find her, you try some discretion? Don’t tell her about your kids until you’re tired of her.”
“That’s a dick move, Jake, and you know it.”
He laughs sardonically. “Yeah, but it’s also a dick move you’ve already made with her. Might as well keep up the lie.”
“That was different and you know it.” I glare at him and say, “I’m not going to lie about my kids, not on purpose. I didn’t tell her before because she asked me not to.”
“I’m just saying, you should use the tools you have. Hang out with a chick until you’re over it and then spring the kids on her. It’s an easy out.”
I tut. “You know what? I feel sorry for you when you fall in love. Because that girl, she’s gonna rip your heart out—but then again, I guess you need to have a heart before it can be ripped out.”
Jake stands, chuckling. “Whatever. I’m not looking for love anyway.” He taps my beer with his. “See you later.”
“Yep.” Just before he leaves, I say, “Come over tomorrow if you want to catch the Giants game with me.”
“Will do.”
He slowly clicks the gate closed behind him, and I’m alone again. Too bad it’s not what it used to be. Too bad I can’t stand it anymore.
Fifteen
Emily
I hit the ignore button on my cell phone again. I just don’t have it in me to deal with Grant today. Standing, I walk across the room to get a drink of water. Rebecca and I still don’t have our offices settled yet, and I know that’s my fault. When we left Tate, Brown, and McKennon together, we bought this Victorian in the Mansion Flats district downtown with big plans. It’s a beautiful building too. We both immediately fell in love when we did the first walkthrough.
Now, we can’t get started on the remodel because I keep delaying the meeting with Grant and the contractor. As if reading my thoughts, Bec walks into my office. Her platinum-blonde hair drifts off her shoulders with the motion. She’s removed her jacket and rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. Her tanned skin is glowing and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she’s the one who spent a week in Hawaii. She brushes a loose curl off her face and points to me. “Tomorrow morning. We’re doing it. I can no longer stand the smell of the hundred-year-old carpet in my office.” She sits across from me. “I know you don’t want to deal with Grant, but the best way to get him out of our lives is to meet with the contractor he’s recommending. I also think it’s important to acknowledge the fact that he’s possibly saving us thousands and thousands of dollars.”
“Yeah, I know. I appreciate that…”
“Emily, we’ve put this off for three weeks
. We’re doing it tomorrow. Period.”
“Has it really been three weeks since I came home from vacation?”
“Yep, it was three weeks last Sunday.” She sizes me up for a moment and then asks, “How are you doing with… all of it?”
“I’m… fine.” I purse my lips. “I’m not saying I don’t have regrets, but I’m doing okay.”
“I can get Richard on the phone, have him start looking for the guy. Seriously, if we’re going to keep a private investigator on retainer, we might as well send some work his way. It’s one of the best perks of running your own law firm.”
My head shakes immediately. “No… no. I’m trying really hard to stick to my guns on this, Bec.”
“You’re so full of shit! Just stop, Emily. Just cut it out.”
I draw back and look at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Stop being a martyr. I can see how unhappy you are. You’re even more unhappy now than before you left for vacation.”
“Jesus, Mac said the same thing. He actually feels guilty for sending me on vacation.”
“Did you tell him about Drew?”
“Yeah, I had to so he wouldn’t think my mood was his fault.”
“Okay, I have an idea.” She holds her hand out. “Hear me out, okay?”
With my arms crossed over my chest, I recline in my chair, waiting to hear what scheme she’s cooked up to fix me.
“I’ll call Richard and let him do a search. He can send me the results, and if your guy is too far away or if he has some criminal history or some other awful thing, I’ll trash the information and never share it with you.”
My eyes drop to my desk. It’s not a bad idea, but just considering it makes me feel weak-minded. Who am I if I can’t stick to my resolve? But damn, I miss Drew. Painfully so.
