Finding Haven

by Foster, T. A.

  “Hey.” She rounded the corner to her dad’s study. Her father and Jay were standing in the center of the room. Her father pointed out a row of black-and-white framed pictures.

  “There she is.” Her father moved across the room to hug her, but Haven dodged the advance.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  Denton cleared his throat. “I was just telling Jay about when your grandfather decided to open the store.”

  Jay smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled with warmth. “Yep, I’m getting your entire family history.”

  “Oh great. He hasn’t gotten out my baby album, has he?” Haven checked to see if it was still in place on the bookshelf.

  “No, but I put in a request for that after dessert.” Jay laughed.

  “My mom will be thrilled.” Haven realized that once Jay started talking, she didn’t even know if her father was in the room anymore. It all faded away. It was that smile; everything was in his smile.

  “Why don’t I go check on your mother and let you two talk?” Apparently, her dad was still there.

  Haven turned to face him.

  “And I’ll take drink orders. Jay, what can I get you? Beer? Gin and tonic?”

  “Beer sounds good, sir.” Jay slid his hands in his pockets. Haven liked the blue shirt he was wearing with the khaki shorts. He looked relaxed.

  “Ok, and sweetie, I know you’d like a glass of wine. I’ll be back.” Denton walked out of the study.

  Haven bit her tongue. Her father was using this setting to act like things were the same as two months ago. She couldn’t correct him in front of Jay. For now, she would act like a daughter that wanted to have dinner with her parents.

  “Your parents are great. I met your mother earlier.”

  “Yeah, she’s the best.” Haven knew her father would waltz back in any second, but she was fighting a growing urge to reach up and kiss Jay. Not seeing him for twenty-four hours had that effect on her.

  “You look nice.” His eyes dipped to her throat and trailed along the V of her dress.

  It was a heated stare she reveled in.

  “Ok. Ok. Here we go.” Denton appeared with drinks in hand. “One beer for you, Jay. And here you go.” He handed Haven a glass of wine.

  “Thank you, sir.” Jay tipped the glass against his lips. Her parents were really going all out. The beer was in a pilsner glass.

  “Mom says dinner is ready, so why don’t we head to the dining room?” Denton waved his hand toward the door.

  “Dining room?” Haven looked at her father. They only ate in the dining room at Christmas and Easter. Sometimes, if all of her aunts and grandparents were over, but it was rare that both sides of the family gathered at the same time.

  “Come on. Let’s go.” Denton put his hand across Jay’s shoulder. “Wait ‘til you taste this sauce Maura makes. It’s an island legend.”

  Haven rolled her eyes. She was behind them; no one could catch this one. She got at least one freebie.

  “MOM, THAT was so good. Thanks for making dinner. You sit and I’ll take care of the dishes.” Haven placed her napkin on the table and pushed her seat back.

  “Yes, Mrs. Own. It was delicious. You should bottle and sell that sauce at the store.” Jay smiled at his hostess.

  Maura blushed. “I’m just glad everyone enjoyed it. Haven, you don’t have to do the dishes.”

  “Yes, I do. You sit and relax.” Haven began collecting plates.

  “I’ll help.” Evan stood before Haven reached his plate.

  “Why, a man that helps in the kitchen. That’s nice to see on the island. Isn’t it, Haven?” Her mother beamed at her as Jay piled her father’s plate on top of his stack.

  “Mom, that is so sexist.” Haven knew it was true, though. It was rare to find a man on the island who helped with domestic duties. Add that to the list of reasons to find love off this piece of sand.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” Maura giggled. Her cheeks flushed from a glass of wine. “I’d have to pay your father to wash a dish.”

  “Who wants to do dishes?” Haven’s father chuckled from the head of the table. Haven fought the impulse to fire back. It was pointless.

  Jay followed her to the kitchen and began rinsing the plates.

  “My dad is such an asshole,” she seethed.

  “He doesn’t seem that bad. But I don’t know what’s going on.” He tilted his head. “There’re always two sides to every story, right?”

  Haven didn’t want to tell him that the other side of this story was dark and ugly. Her father’s affair with Betra was something that had permeated the happiness she once felt in her own home. It hung in the air like mold, growing darker and more disgusting the longer it was left on its own.

  “Right.” She opened the dishwasher and tossed the silverware in the basket.

  “You seem awfully quiet.” He nudged her with his arm.

  “I can’t really talk about it right now.” The salt in her tears stung the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. She couldn’t. “Is that ok?”

  Jay turned the water off. “Hey, come here.”

  Before she could turn her face from him or reach for another handful of dirty dishes, his strong arms wrapped her in against his chest.

  She exhaled into the broad surface of his upper body. He smelled so good—like clean soap and a mixture of his cologne. Her hands circled his waist, and she settled into the embrace, feeling the anger that had gripped her release with every deep breath she shared with Jay.

  “Is that better?” he murmured into her hair.

  She looked in his eyes, feeling calmness wash over her. It was as if Jay had steadied all the tipsiness, and with a new sense of balance, she lost her breath.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  It was only a hug, but suddenly it felt like the single most earth-shattering moment of her life.

  “ALLAN, COME on. Tell me something. What is going on with her?” Evan closed the door behind him and turned the AC to low in Silver Belle. Today was a scorcher.

  “Emmy’s determined. She says she’s in love.”

  “What in the hell? We weren’t even together that long.” Evan ran his hands through his hair.

  “I talked to her for a few minutes yesterday. She swears the article is her way of getting you back. She really wants you to work things out.” Allan paused. “It sounds legit, Evan.”

  He slid into the vinyl booth with a cup of coffee. “It can’t be. I was there. I was in the relationship. We never once told the other we loved them. This is so full of bullshit. She has an angle. I know she does.”

  “You can’t tell anyone that. Emmy is sweet and beautiful. She’s really playing up the girl-in-love card. And it’s working. She’s had one interview after another.” Allan breathed hard into the phone. “Have you thought about doing a counter interview? You should put your side of the story out there.”

  “Hell no!” The coffee burned the tip of his tongue. “I’m not responding. No statements, no interviews, no spin. Do you hear me, Allan? I just want to know what she’s up to. I’m not turning this into a bigger media circus.” Evan didn’t know about the other interviews Emmy had granted, although it wasn’t surprising. She loved the attention. He remembered how she never turned down a fan request for an autograph or a picture. She was in her natural state when a camera was present.

  “I’ll keep making some calls.”

  “Thanks, Allan.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll get back to you as soon as I find out.”

  “All right.” Evan attempted another sip of the hot beverage in front of him.

  “But if you change your mind, just say the word, boss, and I’ll have Entertainment Now, the Gossip Channel, anyone you want ready to air your side of the story.”

  “There is no my side of the story. Just find out.” The longer this carried out, the more sympathy Emmy was stockpiling.

  “Got it. Hey, how is it, where you are?” Allan hadn’t asked Evan his whereabouts in the la
st few phone calls.

  Evan realized that Allan wanted that one piece of information above everything else. “It’s beautiful, man. I’ll catch you later.” He didn’t give his agent another chance to pester him. He ended the call and placed the phone on the table.

  He had worked five straight days at the store, and he now had two off in a row. It felt strange to sit in the camper with nothing to do. The waves were breaking hard and the wind was blowing.

  He stepped onto his sandy patch of yard and took in the scene. He had to shield his eyes from the sun. Man, it was bright and hot even with the breeze.

  “Hey, stranger.” He heard Charlotte before he saw her.

  “Hey, Charlotte.” He smiled and raised his coffee cup to her.

  The pink bikini wasn’t as wild as some he had seen her in.

  “You’ve been a busy guy this week, haven’t you?” Her arms were loaded with a beach chair, bag, and towel.

  “Yeah, I took a job at the general store in town. This is my first day off.” He took a sip of the coffee and peered at the surfers taking the waves head on.

  “Day off? I bet you could use some sun. Some time on the beach, huh?” She ran her tongue over her red lipstick.

  One of the surfers took a nosedive in the center of a wave. Evan watched him pop back up with a smile on his face. “Actually, I’m going to do some surfing today.”

  “Surfing?” Charlotte sounded shocked. “Oh, I bet you look all hard and chiseled in a wet suit.”

  Evan swallowed the coffee and fought the urge to laugh. It was all so comical how blatantly she threw herself at him. “I don’t know about that, but I thought I’d give it a try. It’s been awhile.”

  He wasn’t going to tell her the last time he surfed was for his role as a spy who arrived on an island by surfboard. He would keep that tidbit to himself.

  “You have a good time, and if you come down to this part of the beach I’ll wave.”

  “All right, Charlotte. Thanks.” He watched her sashay toward the row of sunbathers camped out on the beach for the day.

  Sure, it was a spur of the moment excuse, but he was pretty stoked that he had come up with it. It was the perfect day to hit the waves.

  “WELCOME TO Wave On, how can we help you?” The girl behind the counter couldn’t be more than sixteen. Exactly the demographic Evan needed to stay away from.

  He was feeling more comfortable about his residence on Perry Island, but after Emmy’s article two days ago, some of that contentment he had built as Jay the writer ebbed.

  He pulled his hat over his eyes and focused on his feet. “I wanted to get a refresher on surfing. I’ve done it before, but it’s been a few years. Is there someone who could give me a quick rundown on the breaks and waves, and then I’ll take it from there?”

  She was staring, definitely staring long and hard. He was going to be pissed at himself if he blew everything because a fifteen-year-old identified him.

  “That sounds like something we could totally do. You should go out with Travis. I think he’s free. He knows like everything.” She turned and opened a door behind her. “Travis!”

  “Yep. I’m here. What’s up?” Evan recognized Travis as the clerk from Owen’s General Store. The clerk who had created a job opening for him.

  “This guy needs a lesson or like kind of a lesson. Like maybe you could just take him out.” She started re-braiding her hair. Evan was no longer worried she knew who he was. She might be the one teenager who couldn’t pick out One Direction in a lineup.

  “Hey, I’m Travis.” Travis stood by the counter.

  “Jay.” Evan shook his hand. “We kind of met at Owen’s. You used to work there?”

  “Five years I did. But this is a better situation.” Travis wiped dark bangs off his forehead. “Surfing is better than stocking shelves and sweeping floors.”

  “All right.” Evan didn’t need all the background. He was just making conversation. “Do you think you could take me out? I’ve surfed before, but I’m rusty. It was a few years ago. Just fill me in on the best spots. I’ll be good from there.”

  “Oh yeah, man. Let’s go.” Travis led him over to the rack of surfboards. “Pick out your board and meet me on the beach.” He turned and walked behind the teenage girl.

  There wasn’t much to choose from. Evan reached for a white board, tucked it under his arm, and exited through the same door Travis used.

  His advisor was close to the surf, standing near his board. Evan remembered his first time surfing on the set of Spy Cross. He had approached the board like all other tasks—something he could tackle with his athleticism. He didn’t know it would be such a humbling experience. It took him almost a week before he could stand on the board, and then another few days before he felt confident enough for the director to start shooting scenes with him upright. They almost called in a stunt double, but he was determined to find his balance on the waves. He didn’t need a double. Most of the scenes were shot as close-ups, but he was still proud he had learned to surf so quickly.

  “You ready?” Travis greeted him by the surf.

  Evan felt the waves lap around his ankles. “Yeah, let’s do it.” He gripped the board and waited for Travis to give him the rundown on the Carolina waves.

  IT WAS almost sunset. Evan sat in the sand watching the waves wash through the pilings of the pier. The surfing didn’t come back to him as quickly as he wanted. He had spent the entire day wrestling with the board and the waves, but it felt good. His head was clear.

  His lungs surged with the salt air, and his muscles ached with exhaustion. It was a damn near perfect day.

  Haven listened to the old timers in the corner. “Sure is. Sometime next week’s when I expect her to make landfall. Write it down.”

  “Last summer we didn’t have much in the way of storms. Bound to catch up with us. You’re probably right.”

  The men went back and forth talking about one of the tropical storms that had been named on the news. Haven hadn’t bothered to turn on the television; she knew she would hear everything she needed to right here at the store.

  It was Sunday and her favorite day to be at work. It was hard to explain, but there was a certain serenity that descended on the island on Sunday, and it even found its way into the general store. The fishing boats still went out and tourists still flocked to the beaches, but the flow of the island slowed to an easy pace.

  Haven knew the men would rock in the chairs and sip at least two cups of coffee before leaving the store. They spent their Sunday mornings in the same corner while their wives were at church. She pulled a scrap of paper from her apron and flattened it.

  She had started the song in the shower, and slowly, the body of it was unraveling on the paper. These were the days she wished she had her guitar with her. If she had the chance, Sunday mornings would be the perfect time to write.

  She looked around for Jay. It was fun writing with him on her porch, though he mainly tossed out ideas she had to squash. However, that was part of the fun. She had never laughed so much with her guitar in her lap. He reminded her that it was supposed to be fun. Not everything could be emotional and reflective all the time. It starts to take a toll if the lyrics deplete you. With Jay around, it felt like the lyrics were breathing new life into her soul. It energized her like it never had before.

  When he arrived this morning, he smiled, said hello, and immediately started sweeping from the corner of the store. It was the first time she had seen him since the dinner at her parents’ house. Since the hug. Since she melted in his arms in front of the kitchen sink.

  She worked six days a week to make up for the money she had to repay her father. Everyone else put in five. That meant Jay was gone for two days. Two long days.

  Was it normal to miss someone you didn’t know well? She sighed, knowing the answer was no. Nevertheless, there was something about him that she was drawn to, and when he wasn’t around, it was noticeable that the air wasn’t as calm, that she wasn’t as steady.
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  “Hey.” He strolled to the register. How did he appear like that? It reminded her of a vampire in one of the books she was reading; he showed up when the girl least expected it.

  “How was your weekend? Do anything fun?” she asked, looking at his new sunburn. The bridge of his nose was red. Secretly, she had wanted to hear from him over the weekend. Ben had another bonfire, and the thought crossed her mind to invite him. For once, she was trying to take things slowly, because apparently, when they were alone, the brakes were unlocked and things spiraled before either of them could catch their breath.

  “Good. Spent some time on the water. How about yours? Write anything new?” He smiled as if he was sharing a secret with her.

  “Actually, I’m working on something now. Want to take a look at it?” She twirled the paper around so he could read it. She had never so readily handed over her lyrics before.

  He scanned the paper. “This is good. I like it. Maybe even better than the one from the other night.”

  “Really?” She blushed. How could anything be better than the other night? Her back on the kitchen table, buttons flying everywhere—yeah, that was amazing.

  “It sounds a little darker, like you’re coming from a deeper place. Finish it.” He handed her the paper.

  He said it like she could do it in five minutes. She intended to finish all of the songs, but it didn’t work that way.

  “I will. Hey, I was thinking about sending in the one you helped me with.”

  “What do you mean?” He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket.

  “I’ve been trying to get a contract with one of the labels in Nashville or Austin since I graduated. Every week I send in at least one—sometimes more than that.” She didn’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed by how high the number was. It grew each week.

  He leaned on the counter. “And do you know anyone at the labels? How do you know someone gets them?”

  Haven scrunched her face. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought of that before. “No, I don’t know anyone. I wish I knew someone. But eventually, they’ll land in someone’s hands who loves them. I just have to keep sending them.” She was new to the game, but she had researched all of the right contacts at the labels. Every week she switched up her pitch letter before sending another email. It was tedious and sometimes felt like a useless exercise, but it was the only avenue she had.