by Ivy Jordan
I wiped my tears as she approached. Her expression obvious that she’d noticed my sadness. “Are you okay?” she set the goodies on the porch and wrapped her arms around me. I let the warmth of her embrace soothe me, melting into her as if we’d never parted as friends. “Wow,” she gasped as she pulled back and picked up the photo in my lap. “Remember the crush I had on him?” she giggled.
Madison sat down beside me, enjoying the photo and her own memories of Tommy and my dad as the heaviness finally began to lift from my heart.
“Yeah, I remember you trying your best to get him to notice you,” I laughed. “I figured that was the only reason why you wanted to be my friend.”
Madison let out a loud laugh, her eyes dancing on the photo, and then turning to me. “I didn’t know he was your brother when we became friends, so it was just a bonus.”
“I guess it’s a good thing he didn’t notice you,” I said softly, realizing how painful that would’ve been for my dear friend.
“I guess,” she agreed, leaning down to reach the goodies she brought.
The coffee I’d made in the house was black, no creamer, and no sugar since I hadn’t been shopping, so I was grateful for the French vanilla flavored one she handed me. “This is something new I’m adding to the menu, so I wanted you to try it out first, Ms. New Yorker, and tell me what you think,” she said, pulling out two large balls of aluminum foil.
I opened the foil carefully after she handed me whatever her new creation was. A glazed donut was cut in half, and in between the halves were three thick slices of bacon, a perfectly cooked over-easy egg, and a few leaves of baby spinach. “This looks amazing,” I smiled, my belly grumbling from hunger.
Her eyes locked onto mine as I took my first bite. The egg burst, creating a juicy sauce with the yolk, and all the flavors blended together perfectly. “Mmmm,” I groaned, unable to speak with a mouthful of the amazing sandwich in my mouth.
Madison giggled, and her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. Yup, she still couldn’t handle a compliment, even one that was unspoken.
“So, you think it’s a good addition to the menu?” she asked.
“Hell yes,” I exclaimed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “This is better than anything I found in New York.”
Her cheeks turned a little brighter pink, and her eyes filled with pride.
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here to bring me this. I would’ve happily come to you for this,” I gushed, and then took another large bite.
“Well, there is another reason I came by,” she confessed. “I wanted to know if you’d be up to going out tonight and meeting a friend,” she stammered.
Oh God, what was she up to?
“A friend?” I questioned.
“My boyfriend, Joey; it’s his brother. I was gushing all about seeing you, and he’s a super nice guy, and he really wants to meet you,” she bubbled.
“A blind date?” I grimaced.
“Sort of. Before you say no, Johnny is tall, tan, loves to surf, loves animals, and is built,” Madison babbled.
“If he’s so great, then why no girlfriend?” I probed.
Madison paused a moment, and let out a soft sigh. “Well, he just got dumped. She was cheating on him, and he’s just now over her,” she disclosed. “It will be fun, and you’ll get to meet Joey,” she added cheerfully.
I wanted to say no, but something inside of me tugged towards agreeing. A blind date, ugh, the thought made my stomach spin, but Madison was my only friend on the island, at least the only one I felt close to. “Okay, I’ll go,” I reluctantly agreed.
She let out a squeal of excitement and then proceeded to tell me all about this mystery man. From what she said, he sounded like a decent guy, so what could it hurt? I was tired of being lonely.
Madison told me to meet them at a club not far from my office. I’d remembered seeing it when I first arrived; it was new, and looked like a pretty happening place.
She left, leaving me alone to get some things done around the house. My dad’s depression was obvious from the looks of the place. He’d let things go pretty good. That wasn’t like him. He’d always been so proud of his home, and worked hard to keep it nice. Now, the weeds overtook the flower beds he’d tended, grass grew through the dirt where he’d always kept a garden, and the gutters around the home were filled with birds’ nests, leaves, and other debris that had blown in over the months of neglect.
I worked most of the day cleaning the outside, even climbing up on a ladder to clean the gutters. By the time I came inside to get ready for my blind date, I was a horrible mess.
I stripped out of my dirty clothes and stopped at the full-length mirror before turning on the shower. I let my hands slide down my sides, tracing my curves, and then move to breasts, cupping them in each hand and giving them a slight lift. Thirty was coming quick, just a couple years, and my breasts were beginning to show signs of sagging, even if barely noticeable. I stayed thin, kept my slim waist and firm ass, but I knew it wouldn’t be long for those to start fading as well. Maybe it was time for me to find a man; I hadn’t had much time for dating in college, and in New York, it seemed everyone was too busy. The only men I met were the ones in my office, and they all had serious issues, making me wonder if all men were as messed up as they were. Now, I had time. The partnership in the practice gave me plenty of income to live comfortably without working so many long hours, and things in Hawaii were just so much slower and relaxed than in New York.
I stepped into the shower, turned the water on to just a lukewarm, and washed all the grime and dirt from my body. I pulled the pins from my tight bun on my head, letting my long, dark hair fall to my back, nearly touching my tailbone. I hated fussing with it after washing, but there was no avoiding it after the work I’d done in the yard for hours.
Outside the shower, I spent over thirty minutes trying to dry my thick hair, and then another thirty styling it. I wasn’t used to wearing it down, but tonight I was going to let loose and try to have some fun.
Panic set in as I pushed through the items in my closet. Most of my clothes were for business and didn’t exactly scream club-goer. I didn’t want to be a stick in the mud, or have this great guy think I was too serious or conservative, so I grabbed the suitcase I hadn’t unpacked yet and set it on my bed. Inside, a beautiful, red dress was perfectly pressed and still in the thin plastic from the dry cleaners. I’d only worn it once, and that was to a fundraiser in Manhattan, where I’d met Gary, a famous journalist with an edgy weekly column. Gary ended up being a dud, but the dress proved to be a winner, so I figured I’d give it another try.
It felt like everyone was staring at me as I entered the club. I stopped near the bar, scanning the room for Madison. “Taylor!” my name exploded over the chatter and music. I turned towards the direction of the voice yelling for me and found Madison standing at a table near the dance floor with her arm swaying in the air.
I pushed through the crowd, made my way to the table where Madison motioned for me, and was pleasantly surprised by the handsome men on either side of her. “This is Joey,” Madison introduced me to her boyfriend, a blond, tan surfer type, and then to Johnny, my date, the dark, handsome man she’d promised to deliver. Wow.
“You look amazing,” Madison gasped, causing me to blush. I felt out of sorts in a pretty dress and with my hair down. I was more comfortable when I was bundled up in business clothes, and my hair nestled into a bun atop my head. I still had my glasses, unwilling to fight with the contacts my doctor had given me, but other than that, I didn’t feel like myself at all. Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe the old Taylor is a stick in the mud.
Johnny immediately reached for my hand, gently pulling me to the seat next to him. “Damn, you’re hot,” he blurted, instantly making me notice his immaturity. Maybe he’s just nervous.
He was hot too, but I didn’t think it appropriate to blurt it back at him. Instead, I smiled, and waved the waitress over to order a
drink. “I got this,” Johnny announced, quickly ordering a pitcher of the house special, whatever that was. I found it a little rude not to ask what I wanted, but I decided to play along. I didn’t have to be in control all of the time. Tonight was my night to let loose, and let go.
Joey kept squeezing Madison’s ass, making her jump and squeal, but I noticed his eyes wandering to every woman that walked by. Johnny kept his attention on me, but his overbearing, overly eager personality made me wish he’d look for someone new.
“Gotta squirt,” Joey announced rudely and leaned down to kiss Madison with full tongue. It was uncomfortable to be around, and when Johnny announced he too had to ‘squirt’ and tried to lean down to kiss me, the uncomfortableness increased ten times over. No fuckin’ way dude. I moved quickly out of his way, grinning nervously as he displayed a disappointed frown.
“Isn’t he cute?” Madison asked after the guys disappeared.
I watched through the crowd, keeping an eye on Joey, who stopped to talk to a tall brunette with way too much exposed cleavage. “Sure,” I agreed, not giving any more detail of what I truly thought about him, or his brother.
When the night was finally over, I couldn’t have been happier. I’d watched Madison be disrespected long enough by her boyfriend, ‘Joey the tool,’ and it appeared that she hadn’t even noticed his bad behavior. Johnny had tried all night to put his hands on me, and each time I would move away, excuse myself from the table to go to the restroom, or slap them away. It was exhausting. He was exhausting. Maybe I was better off alone.
“You want to go get breakfast? I can open up the shop,” Madison offered as we left the club.
I was already walking towards my car and away from Johnny. “No, I’ve got a long day tomorrow,” I explained and quickly made my escape.
Chapter Five
Elijah
The captain came over the loudspeaker announcing our arrival in Molokai. Everyone cheered, creating chaos in the small plane that instantly made my head ache. My legs ached from being cramped behind a reclined seat for hours, and the endless hours of layovers and delays during this flight had me jetlagged before even stepping foot on Hawaiian soil.
“Please fasten your seatbelt,” the stewardess instructed as she nodded towards my lap. She was tall, blonde, and looked to be about fifty. Probably a knockout in her early days, but now she just looked tired and angry.
I reached for the tattered strap they considered a safety belt and fastened it as instructed. The man in front of me, the one who insisted on reclining and taking up the small amount of space I’d paid for, snapped his seat upward and allowed me to stretch out my legs a few inches in front of me.
Passengers were all alive and chattering, not like the hours before when the plane was silent as they slept, all except one baby who cried most of the flight. I didn’t really mind; I felt bad for the kid, and I kinda’ knew how he felt. This sucked. It sucked ass.
The couple beside me held hands as they leaned over to peer out the small airplane window. The woman gushed about how beautiful the island was, and I struggled not to throw up in my mouth as the plane started to descend. Newlyweds: I was certain of it from their way too happy energy. They’d tried to make conversation with me when we first boarded, but I slapped on my headphones and pretended to watch the onboard movie. “You must be so excited to be coming back home. How could you ever leave this beautiful place?” the man asked when the woman pulled the information from me that I was going home. I shrugged, put on my headphones, and that was the end of that conversation. Five sweet hours of peace and quiet, other than an occasional whisper between the two of them, and of course, the baby wailing for its life about ten rows back.
The seatbelt lights blinked, and then turned off as the captain announced our arrival. Everyone scurried to their feet, rushing to be the first ones off the plane. I was planning on waiting until everyone exited, but the couple beside me were already standing and eagerly waiting for me to as well so they could push into the crowd. In a fuckin’ hurry to get nowhere.
I stood, slid into the aisle as the man behind me stopped to reach his carry on from the overhead bin. I’d checked my bags, not willing to carry my bag from gate to gate with the endless exchanges assigned to my flight.
“Welcome to Hawaii,” a sexy native greeted me as I stepped off the plane onto the tarmac. She extended a brightly colored lei towards me as I shook my head with an exhausted smile. Not today. No thank you. Fuck off, please.
I stepped inside the small airport where our bags were being sorted. Mine were bright red with a black stripe, making them easy to spot. I moved towards the pile of luggage where a young man worked hard at placing tags on each one. “These are mine,” I smiled, pulling the two bags from the pile.
“I have to check them,” the young kid insisted, acting as if I had all the time in the world to wait around.
I didn’t drop them, but instead stood there and stared at the young kid. “Can you do that now?” I suggested, my tone obviously irritated.
“Let me,” a woman offered, slapping a tag on each of the bags and scanning them with her hand tool.
“Thank you,” I responded, delighted that I could finally get on with this trip. The sooner I got it started, the sooner it could end.
“Enjoy your trip,” the woman said with a smile. She was hot, certainly not a Hawaiian native with her long red hair and pale skin, but still hot. I thought about getting her number, making it easier to actually enjoy my trip, but something just didn’t feel right. What the hell is wrong with me?
Shuttle busses and cabs lined the circular roadway outside the airport, waiting to take guests to their hotels for no small fee. “Where you headed?” a man asked, reaching for my bags. I gave him the address and let him take my bags. I watched as he shoved them in the trunk. He was a scrawny guy, but he somehow managed to wrestle the large bags into the car without help.
I slid into the backseat and called John Sanderson, letting him know I’d arrived. “I would’ve picked you up,” he offered a little too late. The cab driver was already on his way, happy that he snagged a fare, and I’m certain figuring he was getting a big tip as he sized me up, from designer shoes to my four-hundred-dollar sunglasses shoved on top my head.
“I’ll be at the house in twenty minute; if you could meet me with the keys, that would be great,” I suggested.
“I’ll see you then. Sure you’re eager to get settled in,” John replied, and then hung up.
I was anything but eager. Walking back into that house wasn’t on my top ten things I want to do in the next ten years. Hell, it wasn’t even on the top one thousand. It was filled with bad memories.
My eyes closed for what I thought was just a second, but obviously, it had been longer as the car stopped, and the driver door slammed shut. I opened my eyes to the familiar street. A large weeping willow tree was in the front yard of my childhood home. Still as ugly as ever. I hated that tree and had begged my dad to chop it down on many occasions, but he always refused. The house hadn’t changed much, except for its upkeep. It was showing age with the faded green paint, the torn lattice under the front porch, and the missing shingles from the roof.
I stepped out of the car, handed the driver a fifty, “Keep the change,” and took my bags.
Stepping onto the porch, the boards creaked, reminding me of when I was young. I would sneak out at night after my dad passed out drunk, and jump the steps to avoid the risk of making the awful noise that might wake the beast.
As the cab drove away, a black Mercedes pulled up in its place. A man stepped out, tall, gray hair with matching beard, and thick glasses. “Hey, Elijah,” he greeted me as if we’d known each other forever.
“I take it you’re John Sanderson?” I replied.
The man walked towards me, nodded, and then stretched his hand towards me with a keychain that held three keys. “One is to your dad’s car in the garage, one to the garage, and this one to the house.” He held the silver keys in hi
s hand.
“I appreciate it,” I smiled, taking the keys.
“I’m really sorry about your dad. He was a great man,” John expressed with sadness in his voice. A great man? I wasn’t sure we knew the same man. “I’m sure this is tough on ya, coming back home this way,” he consoled.
There weren’t any emotions flowing through me that needed consoling, other than the fact I was tired, irritated, and hungry. “Well, thanks again. I’ll assess what needs done around here and get with you about putting it up for sale,” I responded.
He looked a bit shaken by my lack of emotion as he stood there awkwardly on the bottom porch step.
“I know it’s been a long flight. Call me if you need anything, anything at all,” he offered and turned back towards his car.
He seemed like a nice enough man, but I wasn’t there to make friends. I was there for one reason, and that was to sell this house and rid myself of the horrible memories it contained once and for all.
I pushed the key into the lock, turned, and took a deep breath before opening the door. I was glad I did, because the smell inside made it hard to breathe. What the fuck? Did he die in here? Was his body still in here somewhere?
I moved to the front window, sliding it open to let some fresh air in, and whatever wasn’t so fresh out. In the kitchen, the garbage was rotten, and the source of a large part of the smell, I was certain. I gripped the bag, tied it up, and carried it out the back door to the trash bins. I stopped at the pool, empty and in desperate need of cleaning. It was the one thing I loved about the house, but dear ole’ dad refused to let me fill it, saying it was a waste of water.
Back inside, the house smelled a little better, but I knew it would take a while for the smell to completely air out. I walked down the hall, stopping in my dad’s bedroom doorway, staring in at the bed where he used to sleep. I took a few steps into the room and slid my hand under the mattress, just curious if his dirty magazine was still there. I chuckled as I pulled out the same magazine that I used to sneak out as a kid. I had to give him credit for his loyalty to the same pussy for so many years, or possibly it was just he was too cheap to buy a new one. Why throw this one away when the pussy is still just as pink as it was twenty years ago right?
