I pretend to look out the window, but really, I’m holding my breath, praying to hear his footsteps back down the hallway. Finally, I do.
This isn’t a good idea. I’m setting myself up for failure, I say to myself as Ryan comes down the hallway, clean-shaven head and face. I’m sure it took a lot of pain to get there.
“Feel better?” I stand in front of eggs and bacon at the stove, glancing back at him as his scent drifts toward me, making my thoughts go haywire.
He nods and pours some coffee into a mug. He walks to the fridge where he attempts to bend down and winces.
“Hey, He-Man. I’ve got it.” I walk to the fridge and bend at the waist, not thinking that my ass is hanging out for him to see.
I snap up with the half-and-half, set it on the counter, and realize I need to shower. “Eggs and bacon are on the stove. I’m going to shower.”
When I come out, the kitchen is clean, and I find Ryan staring out the window, his back to me.
“I have a doctor’s appointment today at twelve thirty.”
“I’ll drive you,” I say, looking down at my black tank and green shorts, pushing my hands against my outfit, making sure everything is in place.
He nods.
Ryan slowly turns around, and I look at the clock. He last took his pain medication at seven in the morning.
“How’s your pain?”
“Fine.”
“One thing you’re not, Ryan, is a liar. What’s your pain at?”
“Four.”
I roll my eyes.
“Six.”
My head tilts.
“Eight. It’s at an eight.”
I walk to the windowsill where I’ve been keeping the medication. I want to be a smart-ass and ask him how the stool softener is working, but I don’t. I want to make jokes and be light, but we’re not there yet.
“I’m going to wait, Mer.”
“Wait for what? For your pain to be at a ten, so you can live in excruciating pain until the meds finally kick in? Then, you’ll silently wish you’d have taken them before you were at a ten, but you won’t say anything because that’s how you are. You keep everything in,” I huff. “Right?”
Ryan doesn’t say anything. He stands there, stiff as a board, unable to move—probably because of the pain. Because it is really at a ten already.
“Take the fucking pills, Ryan.” I grab his large hand and drop the pills in it. I barely manage a smile after I turn around and wash the only glass that’s in the sink.
I pretend to be bothered, but really, a small part of me misses taking care of people. Albeit a very small, small piece, but I do; I miss it. I cared for Pop and Eli for years before I left home. It’s what Mom had asked me to do before she died. I cared. I cleaned. I cooked. I made lunches. Made beds. Washed dishes. Did laundry. Pop was too busy, in his work and with his grief, to look up and notice. And that was okay.
“You go to Dr. Stein in Granite Harbor still, or do you see someone in Hallowell?” I dry my hands on a dish towel and turn around to find Ryan staring at me.
“Stein in Granite Harbor.”
“Well”—I lean against the counter—“we’d better get going.”
Seven
Merit
Granite Harbor, Maine
Present Day
After the doctor’s appointment in Granite Harbor, we drive down Main Street. Granite Harbor is a small town tucked against the East Coast. Even though Granite Harbor could make more money from its tourist season with more inns, more restaurants, and more specialty shops, we won’t build more. We love our small town, and adding more won’t give it the same quaint feel when you get here. I see that nothing has really changed in the time I’ve been gone. And I can’t decide if it’s suffocating or reminiscent.
“You miss it?” Ryan is looking out the window.
Yes.
I left because I couldn’t bear seeing Ryan with another woman. I would have stayed or come back after college if he’d only asked.
“Sometimes.”
Harbor Theater, Merryman’s Restaurant, The Angler’s Tavern, Ring’s Pharmacy, and The Harbor Inn are five staples that have been here since my childhood. The history of the town is what we want to preserve. We get the tourists who commute in and those who plan ahead to stay. Lampposts line Main Street and give the small town the magical flair during our winters. Just like a Norman Rockwell painting. It used to be that locals would steer clear of Main Street during peak hours between ten a.m. and two p.m. during the summertime. Our population didn’t quite double, but traffic seemed to increase with both walkers and drivers.
I look at the clock. Locals know where to go when the town fills with guests. From Lobster Tom’s, just north of town, to the quiet beach just south of the harbor, which was my spot, where Ryan first kissed me.
“That was dumb, coming downtown at noon with all the tourists.” I laugh at myself as we follow a Buick LeSabre that seems to be running on vacation time.
While tourists stop, look, take photos, laugh, eat, or walk, they pass us and the LeSabre ahead of us.
“We have some time to kill. We can go see Eli and Alex.” Ryan looks at me.
“Hey, guys!” Alex is standing on the porch, waving with one hand and holding Emily with the other.
We exchange hugs, and then I grab for Emily. “Let me see my girl.” I carefully take Emily from Alex while she’s asleep on her mother’s shoulder. “Is she ever awake?” I cradle her head in the crook of my arm.
Ryan kisses Alex on the cheek. “Eli working?”
“Oh, no, he’s in the shop in the back.”
“Ryan Taylor, you hurt yourself, and you’ll feel my wrath.”
I stare him down, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at Emily in my arms, transfixed. I catch his eye.
“What?” he asks.
Don’t do this, Ryan, not here.
I shake off the cold feeling his stare gives me.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” I say.
“Yeah, there’s not much I can do.” He turns and walks to the back of the house and out the back door to the shop behind the house.
Alex eyes me, though her words don’t come.
“What?” I drop my shoulders, looking to Alex and then back to Emily, who’s asleep in my arms.
I use my other hand and comb her soft hair. She smiles intermittently, and knowing what I know about babies, which is minimal, she’s not smiling because of what she’s dreaming about; it’s probably gas.
I sigh, bending down, gently kissing her forehead and taking in her scent. “Babies always smell so good.”
“Come on. I’ll get you some iced tea,” Alex says. She stops. “Or a cocktail?”
“I’d better stick to tea. I’ve got to drive home.” When I say home, I mean, Ryan’s. A feeling enters me that is uncomfortable. I try to brush it off, but it sticks with me like jealousy to a black heart.
You remember how this ended the first time, Merit. Don’t let him fool you again.
“How’s he doing?” Alex asks as I sit down at the dining room table, Emily still fast asleep in my arms while Alex pours the tea.
“He’s so damn hardheaded. I’d forgotten. Thanks,” I say as she hands me a glass.
Alex sits down across the table, staring adoringly at her child. Her eyes meet mine.
“You know, since the accident, he wasn’t taking any pain medication until I came along?”
Her mouth falls open. “What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. He was in so much pain. Little asshole. I told him he didn’t have a choice.”
“Eli told me about Dubbs and his issues.”
I lean down and give Emily another kiss. “Yeah, he’s a real piece of work. I can’t understand how a sweet, innocent child can be left to the devices of a completely narcissistic asshole. Sorry, Em,” I whisper in her ear. Em … I love the way that sounds.
“It’s amazing how Ryan turned out.” She takes a sip of her tea.
“
I know,” comes out of my mouth quicker than I’d like.
What I notice, too, is what Alex doesn’t say. She doesn’t mention the fact that he’s slept with half the state of Maine. I’m almost certain she’s seen that side of him.
“How’s the writing?” I ask.
“It’s good. For now. I can get stuff done while she naps. But I’m not so sure how it will work once she’s mobile. I have a feeling, she’s going to be hell on wheels.”
“You’ll make it work.” I stare at Emily’s outline. Her forehead, her button nose, perfect lips, and little chin.
You didn’t get the chance to make it work, Merit. Accept that.
“You guys want to stay for dinner? Nothing fancy, just pizza from Granite Harbor Pizza Company. We can see if Pop and my mom want to come, too?”
Shit. I haven’t seen Pop yet. “Have you talked to Pop?”
“Eli ran the idea of you helping with Ryan by him, so I think he knew you were coming.”
Pop has a soft spot for Ryan. He’s always had a lot of respect for Ryan for sticking it out with Dubbs. Never complaining. Even though we tried for years to get Ryan to come live with us. I think it was when Pop started taking notice to the way Ryan looked at me that Pop knew Ryan felt differently toward me than he did most people. Pop was a colonel in the Warden Service when he finally retired. Took Ryan under his wing. Secretly, I think Pop was pulling for Ryan and me. Though my brother never noticed us. Probably because he was so caught up with Grace, Eli’s now ex-wife. And also because I didn’t want him to know.
The boys come through the back door.
“God, it’s hot out there.” Eli comes in first, kisses Alex on the mouth and me on the cheek. “You still mad at me?”
“Shut up. It’s good you have a great wife and a super-cute kid.”
Ryan leans against the counter, and I see him flinch.
“You guys want to stay for dinner?” Eli leans in the fridge and grabs two beers. He hands one to Ryan.
“Better ask the warden about the beer,” Ryan says as his eyes fall to mine.
I shrug. “You’re a big boy. You can make big-boy choices. But”—I stand and hand my niece to Alex—“I have to pee.”
I come out of the bathroom and freeze in my tracks when I see Ryan holding Emily with his good arm. His biceps are as big as Emily. He’s got his cheek resting on the top of her head. A violent surge of tears gets stuck in my throat—thankfully.
I cough. “Going to run out to the car real quick.”
Ryan catches my eye, and he knows. He knows I’m stuck, caught, somewhere between anger and sadness.
“I’ll go with you,” he says.
“No, you won’t.” I open the front door because I can’t breathe.
We say our good-byes to Meredith, Pop, Eli, and Alex as we make our way down to the truck.
Silence can be loud. It can crawl into the dark corners of a lit room and worsen, sitting where quiet secrets fester, spreading like weeds across issues in our own heads.
“Can we tal—” he starts.
“No.”
A pin drops. A cymbal sounds. A burning in my ear begins from the quiet that hurt created.
The road is dark as we follow the yellow line to Hallowell.
I don’t have to look over to see that his jaw is flexed. That his lips are in a thin line. That he’s deep in thought. I don’t have to look because I know him like I know my own heart. I know him better than he knows himself. And the hard, cold truth is, he knows me better than I know myself. I don’t dare breathe a word, for fear that fire will light the dashboard, and I’ll say something that I’ll regret.
Bide your time. Do your good deed, Merit. Then, let go. For good.
We get out of his truck when we get to his house, and I don’t offer to help him out. I don’t offer to help him up the steps of his house. I quickly walk to the front door, unlock it, and leave it open for him. Setting my purse down, I stop. My back to the door.
He’s breathing hard, and he’s behind me too quick. “Merit, don’t you dare walk away from me. Look, we don’t have to talk about it, but, fuck, please don’t walk away.”
“I’m going to bed,” I whisper. “Your pain medication”—I pull it from my purse and set it down—“take it before you go to bed.”
“Merit.”
“Stop, Ryan. Just stop.” I hold up my hand. “I can’t.”
After washing my face in the bathroom down the hall, I tiptoe back to my bedroom, careful not to run into Ryan, and shut the door, attempting to push out the world, including Ryan. I shut off the light and roll to my side, lying in darkness.
And the tears silently start to fall.
I hear a quiet knock on the door and feel his tone through his broken words. “Merit, please, talk to me.”
But I don’t answer him. I just let the tears fall against the pillow. I cry for him. For me. And for the world and its totally fucked up timing.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand. It’s a text from Abbey.
Abbey: Hey. Just wanted to tell you that someone was thinking about you right now at this very moment. And I miss you. Ethel had her baby. You’d be proud.
And the tears start to fall as I shake in my own silence.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” I ask as Ryan slowly makes his way to the kitchen the next morning.
“Was thinking we could hike Tolman Pond. Count eels. Run a few miles in the afternoon, and then eat red flannel hash for dinner,” Ryan says.
I can’t help but smile and gag at the same time. “Too bad we don’t have leftovers.” Sarcasm is loud and clear, and Ryan hears it.
He laughs.
I laugh.
I’m thankful what happened last night doesn’t make its way into today. My hope is that we can leave it where it belongs. I know we’ll eventually need to talk about it but not right now.
The morning sun pours through the kitchen window as I stand at the counter. I welcome it.
“We could head to headquarters. I have a few things I need to do there.” His tone is light.
I feel him only inches behind me. His proximity gives me the chills, just as it always has.
“I’ll grab some stuff for dinner while we’re in town.” Make up for last night, I want to say.
When are you going to forgive him, Merit? At the very least. You don’t have to date him. Have sex with him. Or marry him. But, at least, after all these years, finally forgive him.
“I have some moose meat in the freezer. Can you still make those kabobs that you used to? Wrapped in bacon?”
“I think I can do that. You sure are a pain in the ass though, Mr. Taylor.”
“When you’re absolutely sure about something, like the kabobs, everything else comes second. It always will.”
Meaning, he’s not talking about the kabobs, he’s talking about us. He gives me a side-eye and doesn’t smile; it’s a serious look. One he doesn’t give the neighbor. Or a person he’s arresting. This look is only for me. Whether he knows he’s doing it or not, I feel it in my bones. In my stomach. In my stupid heart that is really betraying me right now.
“One more thing, Dubbs is stopping by. We have business to take care of.”
Just the mention of his name makes the hair at the back of my neck stand at attention. My lip curls.
His life, not your life, Merit. Anger pools in my stomach. You’re here to help Ryan. Not make things worse. A new day.
Eight
Ryan
Hallowell, Maine
Present Day
“Hello?” I grumble into my phone.
“Ryan? You sleepin’?” It’s Dubbs.
I glance at the clock. It’s ten thirty p.m.
“What do you want, Dubbs?”
“Well, got myself into some trouble.”
I can tell just by the tone of his voice that he’s been drinking. Gambling and drinking and fishing became his lifelong companions a long time ago.
One thing my father has never d
one is ask me for help—whether it be financial or otherwise.
“What kind of trouble?” I run my hand over my face to quicken the waking-up process.
“Well, I sorta borrowed some money from a guy in Augusta, and he wants it back. Problem is, I need some more time to get all of it back.”
“You borrowed money from a money shark?”
“Well, when you put it like that—”
“Fuck.” I struggle to sit up, my ribs giving me every reason to stay in the lying-down position. “How much?”
“Five.”
“Hundred?”
“Thousand.”
Fucking A.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“If you give me the money, I’ll get it back to you next week. I promise. Look, it’s been a rough fishing season.”
I don’t ask why he owes the money. I know. It’s the gambling. He gets drunk and makes bets that end up as bad debts that he thinks he can pay back or maybe talk his way out of. I’ve seen this happen over and over again; he’s just never asked me to help.
Do I have the money? Yes.
Will I see it again? I’m not sure.
Has my father ever asked for my help? No.
“Come by in the morning.”
“Thank you, s—”
I hang up and throw my phone next to me on the bed. I don’t want to hear it. Whatever excuse he has. Whatever shit he has going on.
What’ll I tell Merit when Dubbs shows up?
I can’t drive and meet him somewhere while I’m on pain medication. I’m sure as hell not going to ask her to drive me somewhere and lie to her about it. Not ever again. I’ll never put her safety in jeopardy. It’s my business with Dubbs, and the answer I give her is the answer she’ll have to accept. But it’s Merit. She’ll push because she can’t stand Dubbs. Doesn’t trust him.
So, I lie here, in the dark, and listen for her. She shut the door to her bedroom, like she’s done before. On life. On Granite Harbor. On me. I’ll wait patiently though and slowly work back toward us. Because one thing I won’t accept is another seventeen years without her.
Violet Ugly: A Contemporary Romance Novel (The Granite Harbor Series Book 2) Page 5
