by Owner
“I know you’re counting,” Sage says to me as I swag my head back and forth. “Stop that and talk to me.”
“What do you want to talk about?” I say, not looking at her.
“Dad says you never called Ian Shepard about that admin position.”
This causes me to lose count, and I turn her way. This is not the first time Sage has tried to arrange an interview for some job for me. You’d think she’d learn. “Sage, I told you…”
“I know. You can’t work in an office. But there’s much more to this than sitting around answering phones.”
“Oh, you mean traveling with him to meetings, taking notes, and handing him his towel when he gets out of the shower? No thanks.”
“Of course not,” Sage says. “I was only trying to help you.”
I’m sure she believes that, but still it bothers me that she assumes I’m not happy doing what I’m doing.
The ball flies past Ned and rolls near our feet. When he comes to retrieve it, he says, “Can one of you grab my ball, please?”
We both smile, but neither of us moves. “I’m sure you can handle grabbing your own ball,” I say.
“Oh, yeah,” Sage says. “I’m sure he’s grabbed his ball a million times.”
“Just plain cruel, ladies.” Ned picks up the ball and runs back to his spot.
“Or maybe you have?” I say before I even realize I’ve said it. It’s none of my damn business what Ned and Sage have done or not done, so I’m not sure what’s got into me.
“Geez, Jax,” Sage says, which I’m aware is not an answer.
But I let her off the hook and say, “Sorry. About the job…thanks for trying to help, but I don’t need anything. I’m happy at the bar, and at the tattoo shop, and spending time at Oak Grove, and whatever else I decide to do.” By the time I get to the end of that sentence my tone has stiffened up.
“Okay, but when…I mean if you’re ready, you let me know,” Sage says as if my life is a waiting game.
I hike my knees up onto the chair and pull my sweatshirt down over them. “I will. And if you ever want to get away from Cruella over there, let me know. I can get Bubba to give you an interview at the tattoo shop.”
When Ned and Emily finally give up on paddle ball, they join Sage and me. Ned tears into a box of brownie bites I found in the cupboard. Sage is looking to the side, watching a dad walking and holding the hand of a toddler. I offer her a brownie, but she doesn’t hear me. “Sage,” I say again and tap her arm. She turns back to me and her eyes appear glassy, perhaps from the wind. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she says then sees me offering her a brownie. “Oh, no, thanks.”
I snag one from the box and pop it in my mouth. Then I look beyond the water to the mountains in the distance. The weather couldn’t be any crappier unless it was raining, but this is still turning out to be a memorable day. I don’t feel as close to Sage and Emily as I used to, but days like today keep us connected and remind us that at one time in our lives, our friendship was the most important thing in the world. Our hearts and souls were fused together back then, and I don’t believe any amount of time or separation can ever erase that truth.
I look over at my two friends, and a sense of home settles upon me. There is comfort and safety here, even with Ned. Emily appears much more relaxed than when she arrived last night, but I’d be willing to bet she will try to leave tonight. Sage hasn’t looked at her phone since we walked over to this spot. As much as she is trying to change the direction of my life, I guess I have to admit I’m doing the same with her. I want more for her than just a career. I don’t want her to wake up one day and realize all the living she missed out on. I watch Sage smile and hope that she understands Rose’s decision when she hears it. I’m glad she waited to tell Sage so we could enjoy this weekend.
“Look,” Emily says interrupting my thoughts. “Surfers on the bayside.”
Across the way, walking on the cement path are two surfers holding boards. One is wearing a wetsuit, the other swim trunks and a backpack over his shoulder. I smile when I see them cross onto the grass toward us.
“They look like they’re headed this way,” Sage says. “The shorter one looks familiar.”
“Those guys are from Jax’s male harem,” Ned says. “She begged me to join but I turned her down.”
Sage leans forward, sitting up straight in her chair. “The tall one’s cute. Is that the guy sleeping on your couch? You still haven’t told me his story yet.”
“Well, I can’t now,” I say. Then I look her square in the eye and pray she doesn’t take offense, but I don’t want to take any chances with Travis. “Sage, don’t mess with him. He’s having a hard time right now.”
“I haven’t even met him yet. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
I’m about to apologize when Emily says, “Be careful; he’s got a record.”
We all look her way and gasp. “Emily!” I say. Her comment surprises me because I never told her about Travis’s past. It wasn’t my place.
“I had Eric check him out,” she says. By the look on her face, she seems to be proud of herself.
“So what did Eric find out with his border patrol connections?” Ned says sarcastically. “Did this guy cross the border illegally with some hot chicle or a giant counterfeit piggy bank?”
I ignore Ned’s comment, cute as it was and accurate, too. “I can’t believe you did that without telling me.”
“I had to make sure you were safe with all those men coming and going over at your place.”
“I’m not running a brothel. Brady’s a college student and Travis is his brother.” They are within earshot now so I say, “We’ll talk about this more later.”
CHAPTER 13 - SAGE
We all stand to greet Jax’s orphan boys who couldn’t be any cuter if they stepped off a surf calendar. But they certainly don’t look much like brothers. They set the boards down on the grass and stand next to Jax. The one I’ve met is shorter with light features and is all smiles as he offers his hand to meet everyone. The taller one hangs back until Jax makes introductions. It’s not that he seems shy or pretentious; he simply looks out of place, as if he’s being an imposition. I guess when you’re crashing on someone’s couch that makes sense. When he makes his way to me, we shake hands, and our eyes catch each other. His are dark and lost. As soon as I smile and say hello, he gives me a tight smile and turns his gaze down the way a troubled child would. I understand now, why he is at Jax’s. She can sniff out pain better than a drug dog at the Miami airport. Whatever is going on with him, she will help in some way.
“You guys are late,” Jax says.
“Shit, Mama, there’s no clocks in the waves,” Brady says in a sweet southern drawl.
Travis smacks a hand across the back of Brady’s head causing him to flinch and flash an apologetic smile.
The reference doesn’t sound sexual—it’s more sweet—but Ned will not let it pass. “Mama?” he says and looks at Jax. She mouths the word, “Don’t” and shoots a dagger from her eye.
“Sorry, y’all, but Jax said it was okay. She reminds me of my mama back home, and it kinda makes me miss her less.”
“That’s sweet,” Emily says. I’m sure she’s picturing her own children and probably pondering how someday they will miss her and be calling someone else Mama.
“There’s lots of food still left at the house,” Jax says. “We wrapped it up for you.”
Funny she didn’t mention they were coming when we were putting all the leftovers away. Sometimes the minor details to Jax are major ones to others.
“Don’t worry about us,” Travis says, putting a hand on Brady’s shoulder and pulling him back a step. Brady’s smile fades, and he looks up at his brother with surprise.
“It’s no trouble,” Jax says.
“Good, cuz I’m freakin’ hungry,” Brady says. “Lead the way, Mama.” Those were the days when all you worried about was what and when you were going to eat. College sounds dif
ficult until you get out into the real world. Then you understand that it was a nap at picnic.
“I’d like to go back to the house for a bit, too,” Emily says. “This is a good time to call and check on the kids.”
Everyone begins to gather their things to head back to the house. I’m not sure I’m ready to go. Being outside gives me a sense of freedom. For some reason when I’m near computers and phones, I get antsy, the need to be productive swarming my body like bees. I reach out and touch Jax to tell her that I’m going to stay close to the water for a bit. Just as I’m saying the words, Travis’s voice comes along, and we both say the same thing at the same time. We look at each other apologetically, as if there is only one ocean available and we have to decide who gets it. Jax gives me a look, a motherly type who’s not sure if she should leave her child alone with a newly frosted cake. I’m not sure what I did to deserve that. It’s not as if I run through men daily. And I’m not a commitment phobe. I simply haven’t found anyone worth making those types of sacrifices for. “I’ll be up in a few minutes,” I finally say after I see that Travis has already taken a seat on his board. His knees are up and his arms rest across them.
I sit back down in my chair which is positioned slightly behind him and to the left. I know we just met, but we are literally sitting in silence—total strangers sharing the same space. I stare at the back of his dark hair as he gazes out to the water. He is shirtless, medium build with arms that have most likely done labor of some kind. He’s hunched over and I note goose bumps on his skin. “You didn’t wear a wetsuit today?” I say. My voice sounds loud breaking the silence.
“I don’t own one,” he says in a soft voice without turning around.
“Sorry, it’s just, you look cold.”
“I’ve got a sweatshirt in my pack if I need it.”
A few more minutes pass and he says, “Are you cold?”
I’m assuming that means he would offer me his sweatshirt, even though he hasn’t moved a muscle. “I’m fine,” I say.
I can see his profile from my view and catch a small scar just at the corner of his eye. I consider getting up, going back to the house. It’s awkward to continue sitting here when he obviously wants to be alone. But I don’t get up, thinking it would be rude. How long do I have to sit here before it would be acceptable? I check the time on my phone, almost hoping there is a message from Christine. I sent a write-up to our new client and copied her. If my plan is well-received, I’ll be making more trips down here to visit the client. Just as I set my cell back down, it rings, surprising me. I check the number, fully expecting it to be her. It’s a number I don’t recognize, but it could be my out, so I click to answer. Before I put the phone to my ear, I instinctively say, “Excuse me,” as if he cared.
“Miss Douglas?”
“Yes,” I say, keeping my eye on Travis who looks frozen in time.
“This is Valerie Swanstrom. I’m an admin nurse over at Oak Grove.”
My pulse quickens at hearing where she is calling from. “Has something happened to my grandmother?” Before she has a chance to answer I’m already at the funeral, dressed in black, looking down at my pale grandmother in her casket, asking her to forgive me for letting her down, for not spending enough time with her. The doctors have said the cancer in her liver has spread. It could be months or even a year, but it could also be mere weeks. Is that vague enough for you? It all depends on her fight. Seeing as though there is no money at stake, I’m guessing it won’t be her greatest bout.
“No, I’m sorry to worry you. Rose asked me to call, though.”
I remember years ago when I was in high school and college, I received similar calls. A secretary or assistant, calling me for my grandmother. Who does that? “What’s wrong? Where is she?”
“She’s sleeping now. I was just chatting with her, and she would really appreciate it if you’d come to the family Sunday brunch tomorrow. She was just so tired and asked me to call for her.”
“Oh,” I say. Then I attempt a quick mental scan of my brain. I hate being caught off guard. Obviously I should say yes, but my first instinct is to find an excuse. “What time do I need to be there?” I ask to stall for time.
“Any time before serving at eleven. Can I tell her to expect you?”
“Sure, thanks for calling.” I hang up and let out a sigh. I can do this, I tell myself. It’s just a meal and some conversation. But it will be the first time in a long while that it is just the two of us. I contemplate calling my dad, asking him to join us. Maybe he is already planning to be there. If he is, then I’ll have to come up with a reason why I didn’t tell him I was in town. Either way, tomorrow will be a challenge, and I’m suddenly feeling that my night just took a turn down Suck Street. I don’t want to wallow in this any longer but when I decide to get up, Travis speaks.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
Again he is still facing the water, and I’m quite annoyed after my call. I decide not to answer unless he turns around. After a minute, I sigh and he turns half way to face me.
“I’m sorry if it’s none of my business,” he says looking up at me. “Really, I was just trying to be polite.”
“Well, you’re sort of doing it wrong,” I say.
He squints in confusion and says, “How’s that?”
“You’ve had your back to me since you sat down.”
He lets a gasp out with a half grin. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I not paying enough attention to you…?” He lifts a hand in question.
“Sage.”
“Sage, right. Well, Sage, I didn’t come here to pay attention to a strange woman who probably gets all the attention she needs.”
What the hell is this guy’s problem? “That’s not what I meant. I was simply saying that if you’re going to show concern for someone and ask if everything is okay, you could at least turn around and look at them instead of just sitting there.”
He nods, then turns back to face the water. “I’ll remember that next time.”
Before I get angry, I tell myself that this guy has a story I don’t yet know about, so I shouldn’t be so quick to judge his personality. Actually, what I should do is be careful since it’s possible I say something that will set him off. It’s not that I’m evaluating him for anything in particular. I’m merely curious the type of person my close friend has sleeping outside her door. I wish I’d heard what he has a record for, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.
My mind swirls with possibilities of what he might have done. Maybe he hacked up his girlfriend for interrupting his ocean-viewing time. He certainly doesn’t appear to be the money-laundering tax-accountant type. I don’t think Jax would have taken him in if it was something dangerous. I intend to confirm this once I get back to the house. For now, I’ll see if I can get him to talk. “So, you really like the water?”
“I like the ocean.”
Before I can decide what to say next, he continues. “I like its complexity. I like that it’s constantly in motion, yet it’s always present. Sometimes it’s peaceful, flowing smoothly back and forth. And sometimes it’s wild and fierce, crashing against the earth.”
Wow, that was almost poetic, in a blue collar sort of way. “Well, the bayside is not quite as exciting as that, but it’s still beautiful. Have you been surfing long?”
“Not really. I started up when I arrived here in San Diego. Brady convinced me. Now I’m out there a lot. It clears my head.”
I resist the urge to press further about where he came from and why he’s here. “You must have worked up an appetite out there. Don’t you want to go up to the house and get some food?”
“I don’t much like crowds.”
“Then why’d you come here?”
This time, Travis turns all the way around. “I came here because Jax asked me to.” His tone is defensive. “I’m not a people person like my little brother, but when Jax asks, I say yes. It’s the least I can do.” He gets up, flings his pack over his shoulder, then picks up his b
oard. He walks right past me, continuing on without another word.
“No,” I say loud enough so he can hear. “The least you can do is be pleasant while you’re here.”
He stops a few feet away, pauses, then turns around. For the first time I see what appears to be a genuine, albeit a tad resistant, smile. It softens his look, makes him more appealing. “Well?” He looks at me. “Are you coming or not?”
I pull up my chair and follow him back to the house. When we get there, he sets his board against the wall where Brady has his and slides his pack to the ground. I set my chair next to the others and head toward the door. Travis is still standing on the patio looking back where we just came. “Coming in?” I ask. I can tell he really doesn’t want to, and I can understand why.
“I’m going for a short walk first. I haven’t really seen this side yet.”
“Oh, it’s pretty mellow compared to the beach boardwalk,” I say. Bayside is typically populated by families and old people whereas the beach boardwalk is the younger crowd, partiers, and also families. That’s where the girls and I spent the majority of our teen years.
“Mellow’s great. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Hey, can I go with you?” I’m not sure why I ask, except maybe part of me wants to worry about someone else’s issues besides my own. Or possibly it’s that he still has his damn shirt off.
“I’ve been so accommodating up to now. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“I’ll take my chances.”
We walk into the wind, side by side along the path, mostly in silence. When we pass the playground, both our heads turn to watch the children playing. Three kids hover around a bucket. There’s no mistaking that scene. I know instantly they are looking at sand crabs, most likely pulled from the rocks by the water. A little girl squeals when a wily boy pulls one out and sticks it in her face. Travis and I look at each other and laugh. He only allows himself a moment of pleasure before reining it in.
“Jax said you work for a bank? What do you do there?”
“I’m a private client advisor.” I see the confusion on his face, so I continue. “I help people plan what to do with their money.”
