Finding Haven

by Foster, T. A.

  Travis’s expression had changed. Evan winced, remembering the exchange he had witnessed between him and Haven. He hadn’t thought of it since, but now, standing between the two of them, it was all he could think about. Something happened that made Travis quit the store, and he knew it somehow involved Haven.

  Evan pulled her closer. He wanted her to know he was here for her, that if this was awkward or weird, it didn’t matter. He had her.

  “How are things at Wave On?” She tried to sound cheerful and interested.

  Travis’s stare bounced between them. “Really, Haven?”

  “Yes, how are things going? Do you like it?” Evan thought he felt her shudder.

  “I don’t know what Travis thinks about it, but if you ask me, it is the best job on the island. Lucky, man.” Evan tipped his red cup in Travis’s direction. He hoped some of the earlier man-to-man bonding would resurface. He was giving Travis a way out of this mess.

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s pretty cool.” He cracked a smile. “I get to surf. I’m on the beach all day. Who has complaints?”

  “Aw, I’m so glad it worked out for you.” Haven took a sip and nervously bit on her lower lip.

  Evan couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to get her out of here. “Nice to you see you again. Haven was just getting ready to give me the grand tour. So, I’ll see you later? Maybe on the beach.”

  Travis reached out to shake his hand. “Sounds good. Have a good time. Catch you later.”

  Evan pressed his hand into the small of her back, and steered her away from the railing and into one of the adjoining sunrooms off the deck.

  “You ok?” He searched her eyes for answers.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” But he could tell she wasn’t fine. She was shaking.

  He took the cup from her hand and placed it on the coffee table. It looked like this room was decorated for South Beach. Everything was aqua green and pale peach. He wrapped both arms around her and tugged against her until she crumbled in his arms.

  “Shhh. Shhh. Whatever happened, you’re ok.” He stroked her hair, wishing he could wipe away the tears and all the hurt in one swoop.

  “It’s not.” She looked up. “I hurt Travis. I see it more now than ever. I’m a terrible person.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you’re a terrible person. I doubt he thinks that either.” He held her face between his hands. Did any girl ever look this beautiful when she cried?

  Her gaze drifted to the floor. “It’s kind of strange to talk about this with you. I’m sorry.”

  “Hey.” He held her wrist. “You can talk to me about anything. Anything at all. Ok?” He would sit in this dark sunroom all night if she needed him to. That he was certain of. “Did you sleep with him?”

  The look of shock on her face didn’t tell him anything. He didn’t want to be a jealous ass, but he saw how Travis watched her. Why else would he be such a dick about everything?

  “I shouldn’t have asked that. Don’t answer it.” Evan shook his head. “It’s none of—”

  “No. I didn’t.” She tipped forward on her toes and met his lips with a soft kiss. “You’re the only one I’ve been with this summer.”

  Evan knew he didn’t deserve it and he didn’t deserve her, but he buried his face in her shoulder and inhaled her shampoo, drawing her against him.

  “Good, because I didn’t want to have to punch my surf advisor.” He nipped at her neck, and smiled as he heard her giggle. As long as he was making her happy, he knew he was doing everything right.

  “Can we get out of here?” She chewed on her bottom lip, and her eyes sent waves of seductive signals.

  “Baby, I’ve been asking that since we got here. Hell, yes.” He took her by the hand. “Want to go bunk?”

  Haven’s laughter peeled through the sunroom. “You know that’s funny and wrong on so many levels?”

  He winked and led her home, where they could be alone, together, and lost in each other.

  “ALLAN? HEY, have you made any of those Austin calls for me?” Evan waited for his coffee to cool.

  “I did. A few of the guys said to tell you hello. I told them you were on a little vacay or you would have called yourself.” The agent chuckled.

  “Thanks, man. So, what’s the verdict?” Evan was hoping at least one would be willing to look over the songs.

  “See, the thing is, Evan. People kind of like you. So out of the five I called, all five want to see the songs.”

  Evan blinked. “All of them?”

  “Yep. They hear Evan Carlson is backing a songwriter, and it’s practically a done deal. You’re kind of a superstar in Texas.” Allan was buttering him up for something; he just didn’t know what it was.

  “All right, so what’s the next move? How do I get the songs to them?” Evan had a notepad in front of him, waiting for a rundown on how to submit Haven’s music.

  “Well, they do want to know who she is. Where is she from? What’s her background? You can understand. They don’t want to start publishing a crackhead. Not that you’d endorse one, boss, but you know—general information is a good place to start.”

  This was the threshold Evan was worried to cross, but Haven had told him several times that she sent songs in every week. Those emails had to have some kind of contact information. He sighed heavily into the phone.

  “Ok. How about I email you a bio and a package with three songs. Will that work?”

  “You still using email? I thought you had given the stuff up.” Allan laughed at his joke.

  “Funny, Allan. Yes, I’ve got email. Look for something from me in a couple of days.”

  “I’ll look for it.”

  “Now, the second reason for my call.” Evan slid the paper across the table. “What is going on in that damn mind of Emmy Harper? I saw another article yesterday.”

  “Look, there’s nothing else we can do on this end. If you’re not willing to do an interview and you won’t let me put out a statement, my hands are tied. I tried talking to her, but you’re forgetting America’s sweetheart is in love with you. Anything I say makes us both look like assholes.”

  Evan slumped in the seat. Sort of like the hurricane that had swept through last week, he thought Emmy’s two-week publicity stunt would die down. That was a rookie thought—she was gorgeous, popular, and publicly declaring her love. People were going to eat that up as long as she was putting it on the buffet.

  “Dammit, Allan. We have to shut this down.” His stomach was in knots, thinking Haven was going to figure this out any day. It was a sordid puzzle on public display—the pieces all around her, she just didn’t know it. How would he explain Emmy and the lies she was spreading? Everyone believed her. She was Emmy freakin’ Harper.

  “Ok. Ok. I haven’t tried all my sources. Give me a few days, send that email, and we’ll regroup.”

  Evan closed his eyes. He could count on Allan to figure this out. It is why he was known as the best and why Evan paid him so much.

  “Sounds good. I knew I could count on you. Thanks.” Evan laid the phone on the table and took a sip of the coffee.

  He was going to have to get the songs from Haven. That part of the plan he hadn’t worked through. It was Saturday, another full day off. He could sit on the beach all day and figure this one out.

  HAVEN PARKED her bike in the rack in front of the library. Her song portfolio was tucked under her arm. Jay had asked her if he could have copies of the songs she sang for him. He wanted to read them again, he said. The library was the only place on the island she could make copies without prying eyes. If she stepped anywhere near the copier in her father’s office, she would get the lecture on how she had wasted too much time on lyrics. Get a real job, Haven. She had heard it a thousand times. Since it was Monday, he was in the office going over bills and accounts.

  She smiled, clutching the music to her side. If Jay wanted her music, it must mean something to him. She brushed her hair over her shoulder and opened the door to the one-room island library.

/>   It had been three weeks since he started at the store. She knew she was supposed to find a replacement for him, but he hadn’t brought up his temporary status lately. He seemed happy at the store, like it was something he actually enjoyed. Honestly, she didn’t want to hire someone else. They got to spend four days in a row together at work, and then she knew they would spend the next four nights rotating between her house and Silver Belle, depending on who had the following day off.

  She loved waking up in Silver Belle. It felt like they were the only two people in the world when they were there. Who needed other people? She giggled as she dropped quarters into the copier and placed the first page face down on the scanner. She hit copy.

  If she could wake up every day with him, she would. But she was trying to be careful—give him his space. Guys liked space. She couldn’t help feeling though that he was ok with a little too much Haven time. Maybe it was because he always pulled her back under the covers, or because he called on the nights when they were apart to check on her, or because he snuck her into the storage closet at work and kissed her like it was their last day on Earth.

  She placed the next sheet down and hit copy.

  The summer days were slipping by and she didn’t know how long he was going to stay. It made her stomach hurt thinking about him leaving. What if she was the one who left? Nothing had changed with her music. It was her soul, her reason for existing, but lately, she knew she had a new reason to exist and it had something to do with a hot Texas boy.

  She exhaled and put another page of lyrics on the screen. She watched the green laser shoot under the lid when she heard the voice—the voice that made her want to vomit and punch something at the same time.

  “Rosie, do you have any of those new steamy Raven books? I can’t get enough of those.” Betra Meeks was ten feet behind her at the library desk, whispering and laughing about some tacky romance smut.

  Rosie, the only librarian on the island, slid her glasses forward and smiled. “Two more came in over the weekend. They aren’t even on the shelves yet. Wait here and I’ll get them for you.”

  Haven clenched her teeth and whipped the pages into her portfolio. Two songs were copied, but she still had one more. The only thing keeping her at the task was that Jay wanted them. This meant something to him.

  “Well, hey there, Haven.” Betra tapped her on the shoulder.

  She didn’t know if she could turn around and face the woman who had been sleeping with her father. Betra ran one of those seashell gift shops that was only open in the summer. Come October, she packed up and headed to Florida for the winter where she bragged about her Tampa condo. Haven sometimes wondered if there was a real condo. Could you really make enough money to last all year selling painted starfish for three months? She choked on the realization that maybe Betra’s winter paradise was funded another way—by someone who had steady, substantial income. Oh, God, she couldn’t look at her; she couldn’t stomach it.

  “Honey? You ok?” Betra tilted her head to the side.

  Haven gathered the last page off the copier, shoved it inside the folder, and darted out of the door. The July heat fell around her like the curtain of awareness that had just come down. Her father, Betra, the affair—it wasn’t new. It couldn’t possibly be new. She gripped the handlebars, nudged the kickstand up, and headed toward the store.

  “HEY, KILLER, where are you going?” Jay called from the rental booth. Haven shoved the bike into the rack and stormed toward the employee entrance. He was quite possibly trailing her. She heard the screen door slam behind her.

  The store was cool, but her neck was damp with sweat and her chest heaved with anger and exertion. Her father’s office was at the end of the hall. The door was closed.

  “Whoa, Haven. What’s going on?” Jay’s hand landed on her shoulder, and she spun around to face him.

  “I have something to say to my father. To ask him.” Her hand was shaking and her bottom lip quivered.

  “Wait. Wait. Talk to me first.” His eyebrows arched with concern.

  “I-I can’t wait. He needs to hear this.” Her voice cracked. “I need answers.”

  Jay looked over her head, and then ushered her into the supply closet before she could protest. He flipped the light switch and locked the door behind them.

  “I’ve never seen you look like this. Can you talk to me first?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe I can help you, darlin’.”

  Haven felt all of the pent up hostility and rage seep through her body one deep breath at a time. Jay stood, his eyes fixed on her, while she inhaled and exhaled the anger away. His palms cupped her face.

  “Can you tell me what has you so upset?”

  The only other person she had told was Travis, and though he guarded her family secret, he wasn’t sympathetic. It made her feel alone. She looked into Jay’s eyes, the pools of gray-green that warmed her soul, that soothed the desperation taking hold, that told her everything really would be ok if she let him take care of her.

  “I-I— He’s—” She couldn’t get the words out. They were stuck in the back of her throat. If she said them, he would know how ugly her life was at home.

  He drew her against his chest, leaned against the door, and slid to the floor, pulling her into his lap. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. However, we’re not leaving this room until I know you are ok. Got it?” He kissed her on the forehead.

  “He’s having an affair.” She blurted it out and the rest of the words followed like a roller coaster. “He’s cheating on my mom with the island whore.” Then the tears followed. “My parents have been married thirty years. Who cheats after thirty years?” She pushed against Jay’s chest to sit up. “I want him to answer for it. I want him to explain to me how he could do this to her. To us.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and felt the anger taking hold again. “I think it’s been going on for years.”

  Jay looked stunned. “That is not what I thought you were going to say. Not at all. Didn’t see that coming.” He tilted his head to the side. “But it does explain a lot. You can barely stand being in the same room with him.”

  “It’s that obvious?”

  “Yeah, you clam up and that glow you have dims into something cold. To be honest, it makes me not like your dad. Anyone who can make you turn that light off has got to be a dick.”

  Haven smiled. She felt the heaviness of the tears on her eyelashes as she closed her eyes and leaned to kiss him.

  “Can I put that in a song?” She broke away to ask.

  “You mean I said something lyrical other than bunk?” He shifted back on his hands.

  “Yeah, it was poetic.” She inhaled the lingering salt and cologne mixture on his T-shirt. It would be perfectly fine with her if they stayed in the supply closet for the rest of the day. She didn’t want to face her father or the world on the other side of the door.

  “Did something happen just now? You had that look of a woman on a mission when you tore in here.”

  Haven thought about Betra and the library. “I ran into her. I took my lyrics to the library to copy for you, and she tried to talk to me.” She paused. “That woman has no idea I know, but I couldn’t even look at her. I ran out of the library like a lunatic.”

  “An understandable lunatic.” He grinned. “That’s a lot to handle.”

  She lowered her head. “I haven’t told my mom. I don’t know if I should tell her. I want to, but it will ruin her. It will destroy her life and everything she knows. How can I do that to her?”

  “I’m not going to tell you what to do. However, you are not the one responsible for your mother’s unhappiness. You can’t do anything to destroy her life. That’s all on your dad. That’s between the two of them. You hear me?”

  Haven nodded.

  “Have you been keeping this all to yourself?” He kept his voice low.

  “I told Travis, but we’re not really on speaking terms. It’s the worst secret and I don’t want to tell
anyone. I’m so embarrassed.”

  Jay took her by the shoulders. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You didn’t do anything. I’m sorry you’re going through this. I wish I could fix it for you.” He sighed.

  She worked her way out of his lap to stand. “Thanks for listening and for keeping me from punching my dad. It helped.”

  Jay followed her lead, taking his time to stretch his long legs. “Anytime. Probably not a good idea to hit him, if you want my opinion. But, if you need me to, you know where to find me.” He pulled the strings on his apron and tightened the knot. “So, what are you going to do?”

  Haven reached for the lock. “I don’t know, but I’m not going to do it today—and not in a crazy rage. Thank you.” She perched on her toes to kiss him. “I feel much better. The problem is still there, but I feel better.”

  “Then, my job is done. I’ve to get back outside. It’s so hot today everyone wants to snorkel. I haven’t told anyone yet you can’t see your hand in front of your face if you swim in the creek. They can figure that out on their own.” He chuckled. “You good?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.” She smiled as he checked both directions in the hall before walking back to the docks.

  She took another deep breath and reached for the light. The problem with her father still existed, but Jay had kept her from doing something she would have regretted. He was balance and reason, fire and lightning, all in one. She pulled the storage door behind her, knowing she needed all those things more than the air she breathed.

  BREES WAS known for its annual crawfish festival. Texans flocked from all over the state to hear their favorite bands, compete in the cook-off contest, and fill up on cotton candy and funnel cakes. Evan’s mother always donated cookies for the church’s baked goods stand, and his older sister usually ended up selling them. When Haven told him Perry Island’s Sea Breeze festival was this week, it was hard not to think of home.