“I apologized.” His voice is strained, like he’s trying not to snap at me. “Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of throwing myself off a building when things don’t go my way.”
It’s like he’d slapped me, his words stinging in all parts of my body. My heart falls into my stomach. He immediately looks like he regrets saying it. He braces himself against the counter, closes his eyes and takes a quick breath.
“That was a horrible thing to say,” he whispers to me. “I didn’t mean it.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Then why’d you say it?”
Eric runs his hand over his head, the sides of his face. “Because this day has turned to shit, and I’m stressed out, and this whole thing may have been a mistake.”
“What whole thing? Do you mean me?”
He shakes his head.
“Because I can go. I could –”
“I don’t want you to go,” Eric says, looking at me for the first time. “I don’t want you to go.”
I drop my arms to my side. I’m not upset with him anymore. Something has evidently happened with Luna that brought this on. I wait a few breaths to still the air.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Eric pushes himself off the counter and walks toward his bedroom. “Luna is pregnant,” he says, pausing at the door. “I’m going to take a shower. Can we talk later?”
I nod. “Of course.”
I don’t know what’s happened. Clearly he is disturbed by the news of the pregnancy, but why? Is it because Luna has confessed that the baby is his? Or that it’s someone else’s? For the first time since we’d met it isn’t just me who has a problem. I am ready to listen. I am ready to have something else to think about, a distraction of sorts. I sit down at the table in the kitchen, waiting for him to return.
A while later, Eric lumbers out of his room and straight toward the fridge. He pulls out two beers and sits down next to me. He hands me one bottle, lifts his head back and gulps down half of the bottle in one breath. When he comes up for air, I raise my eyebrows at him in a silent question.
“Do you remember what I asked you last night? About going away?”
I don’t remember until just this moment. He’d asked me yesterday but it seems like a week has passed since then. I nod to let him know I remember.
“I know you don’t have any reason to go. You have absolutely no obligation to even be here with me.” The shower has given his cheeks a rosy tint, but he looks tired and defeated, much like I’ve felt for the past year. “I already called my sister. She said it would be okay for us to come up. I took some time off from work. I’m good to go.”
I shift in my seat. “When did you do all this?”
“I was only with Luna for thirty minutes. I walked back. Had some time on my hands.” He smiles sadly. “Will you come with me? I can’t be in the same city as her right now.”
“Of course I’ll go with you.”
He gives me a brave smile, and then looks off behind my shoulder.
“I’m sorry about Luna.”
He nods, still looking off.
“The baby? Is it yours?”
He takes a swig of the beer. “Nope.”
“Then I don’t understand. Why are you so upset?”
He looks at me. He’s afraid to say it out loud, I can tell. I give him a sympathetic look. “You still love her.”
“Do I?” He laughs, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t know. All I know is that I want to scream.”
“Then scream.”
“What?”
“I don’t mind. We all have our own ways of coping.”
He considers this for a moment, and then shakes his head. “Thank you, Abby.”
“For what?”
“For saying yes. But mostly for being here.”
“I’m here because of you, Eric.”
He offers me a glimmer of a smile. “Funny how that turned out, huh?” He stares at the TV that has been playing softly in the background, and then looks quickly back at me. “Hey, do you want to watch a movie?”
I smile. “Sure.”
“Great,” he says, and stands up from the table and ambles toward the cabinets. “Take a look through my DVD collection and I’ll make popcorn.”
We settle on a psychological thriller that I had seen years before but can’t remember. It is starting to get dark and we keep the lights off for effect, settling on the couch together with a bowl of popcorn and fresh beers. Eric has his legs stretched out onto his coffee table, and I am curled up next to him like this is how we always spend our Thursday evenings.
I’m tired, and Eric looks exhausted, but we enjoy the movie, weaving our way through plot turns and hidden twists that we see coming a mile away. Eric stays quiet throughout, and I sneak glances at him, light from the TV flickering across his features.
When the movie is finished, Eric turns and nudges me. “You want to watch another one?”
“Absolutely.”
The night fades into movie scenes and soundtracks and half empty bottles of beer. My eyes grow heavy, shoulder blades protesting. Eric had fallen asleep a while ago, but I want to hold on, to make this night last a little longer because I have no idea what I am getting myself into in the morning.
In the end, the pull of sleep wins, just like it always does.
*
“Please just tell me where you are.”
I start counting the tiles in Eric’s bathroom to avoid involuntarily giving Ben any information. It is early the next morning, and I am holed up in the bathroom while Eric packs clothes and other things he will need for the trip.
I tap my finger against the shower door. “Um...that’s not important right now.”
I had expected Benjamin to be upset that I hadn’t called when I promised, but he is composed and assured, the way I have always known him.
“It’s becoming very difficult not to yell at you right now.” Ben’s low tone comes through crisp and clear. “You’ve got to give me something, Abs.”
“This phone call is something.”
“Okay. Okay. When are you coming home?”
I consider the question. A few days ago I didn’t think that I would ever go home again. I didn’t think I’d go anywhere, but soon I will be on my way to some place I don’t know to stay with people I’ve never met.
“I don’t know if I can answer that right now.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I am where I am right now. If I come back, I’ll find you.”
“If?”
“Yes. If.”
“Abby, you’re talking crazy.”
“Did you get my letter?”
Ben pauses. “Yes, I got it this morning, actually.” He sighs. “I’m choosing to ignore that you ever wrote that to me. As of this moment, that letter does not exist.”
“Ben,” I say. I try to think of something to say that will help both of us. “You must understand. The letter explains everything.”
“I told you. There is no letter.”
“I love you, Ben.”
In the silence that follows I can hear Eric singing in the kitchen. I close my eyes and listen, both to him and Ben breathing on the other side of the line.
“I love you too, Abby.”
For the slightest of moments, the absolute tiniest of iotas, I wish I am back home, sitting in the warmth of the African sun in Benjamin’s back yard, the turtles doves cooing me to slumber. I miss the saltiness of the air, the briskness of the Cape wind. I miss Ben.
My eyes flicker open, and I remember where I am. I remember why.
“Abby?” Ben asks, hushed.
“Yes?”
His breath comes out jagged. “You’re not okay, are you?”
I smile sadly into the phone. “Don’t worry about me. I’m figuring things out.”
“I’m going to find you, Abby,” he says, and I smile again. “Always will.”
“See you around, Benji.”
&nb
sp; I hang up before he finds a way to keep me on the phone any longer. I exit the bedroom, hoping that Eric has been too busy with the packing to notice me. But of course, as soon as I step out, he notices. He pauses in the middle of zipping up his duffel bag. I hide the phone in my back pocket, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.
“Everything okay?” Eric asks.
I etch closer to him. “Super.”
He resumes what he’s doing. “I’m just about ready to go,” he says, and paces the length of his living room, gathering things. “Do you have to do anything else? Since you’re basically packed?”
“Um...” I say, slipping the cell phone onto the counter while his back is turned. I look around the apartment, trying to stall, to delay the moment when it will be just the two of us in a car for however long. I find absolutely nothing. “No. I’m good. Just waiting on you.”
“Great,” he says, coming my way. “I just need to find my phone and we can get out of here.”
I gesture to where I had just left the phone. I busy myself with picking up the suitcase and a few of the other things Eric has packed. He seems to have done this before; everything is organized and put out in order.
We leave the apartment. Eric stops at his next-door neighbour April, owner of the white cat, and explains that he is leaving for a few days. They make small talk that I politely smile through before Eric excuses himself and walks with me down to the Jeep.
“You know,” I say, helping him load the bags into the way back of his Jeep, “you never really told me where we were going. I know it’s your sister’s place, but where exactly is it?”
“It’s in Big Bear Lake.” Eric says, shutting the back door. He reaches to scratch at his shoulder. His shirt pulls up and exposes a small amount of skin around his hips. “It’s up in the mountains. Jodie lives right on the water in this little house she bought a few years ago. You’ll love it there.”
“And how far away is this place?” I ask, as I climb into the passenger seat.
“A few hours,” he says, starting the car. “It’s pretty early. We’ll make it there after noon.”
We make a detour at the farmer’s market to pick up fruit and snacks for the drive. Eric buys a few things to take to his sister’s house, and by the time we stop at the petrol station, it is almost eleven a.m. I insist that Eric use the money I have left to fill up the tank, feeling guilty that he’s been paying for everything. He declines at first, but I refuse to get back into the car until he takes it and pays for the gas.
Then, as I prepare myself for the unknown and Eric prepares to escape his town for a little while, we leave behind the City of Angels and make our way toward the mountains.
Part 2: Bay
My mother taught me this trick. If you repeat something over and over again, it loses its meaning... Our lives, she said, are the same way... If you just wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, one day you’ll forget why.
– Phil Kaye, Repetition
Chapter Eight
I am tired by the time we reach the house by the lake. After two hours of driving, my shoulders are sore and my legs heavy.
We approach a resort-looking town, driving past lake houses and cabins with chairs on the front porches. I expect this to be the sort of place where people wave at you when you pass, but my anticipation is short lived by the fact that not a lot of people seem to be around. There are a few young children on bikes that watch as we drive by them, the dust from the road obscuring their faces in the rear window when I look back.
After a few quick turns, Eric drives up a gravel road towards a charming cabin that stands against the backdrop of the Californian Mountains. The bungalow is cute and well maintained, with a fenced-off garden overlooked by a wraparound porch. There is a bicycle leaning against the side of the fence, but the front door is closed and no one comes out to greet us when we pull up.
Eric kills the engine and steps out of the Jeep. He stretches by the side of the car and I have to convince my legs to move before I can do the same. The smell of pine trees is ubiquitous. A cool breeze filters off the lake.
I take in a breath of air. It’s clean and almost sweet. I feel better just standing here.
Eric walks to the front door and tries to enter but it’s locked. On the porch we are shielded from the hot afternoon sun, but the air is thick with heat around us. I feel it in each breath.
“I thought you said your sister knew we were coming,” I say, watching Eric squint toward his truck.
“She does,” he says, and starts making his way down the gravel road, his shoes crunching on the little stones. “I’m going to run next door real quick to see if she’s there. Do me a favour and check around back to see if you can spot anyone. I’ll only be a minute.”
I get off the porch and scale the side of the house, twigs and dried leaves snapping underneath my feet. Rounding the corner, the lake comes into view suddenly, shimmering with the heat of the sun, the expanse so big I can’t get it all in with one look. Pine trees flank the lake. Mountains stand like giants in the background. I am spellbound.
On the farthest end of the lake, where the water laps against the sand, I can make out people setting up beach chairs and umbrellas, while the small figures of children splash in the water. I marvel at the scenery for a minute before remembering my mission. There is a good-sized deck at the back of the house, and a grassy hill that leads out to the dock, which itself is shared with another house to the right. I imagine this is where Eric must have run off to, to look for his sister. The neighbours are a bit far off, so I can’t tell if he’s had any luck.
On further inspection, I see canoes stacked against each other at the front of the dock. A lone kayaker paddles in my direction as I watch. I spot several other docks across the water, and I can make out faint figures moving about. I don’t know if anyone lives out here permanently, but it’s Friday afternoon and the weather is spectacular so of course people will be at the lake.
As I watch, the kayaker throws his oar onto the dock, climbs out of the kayak, and with great finesse, heaves it out of the water and carries it, arms stretched over his head, to the spot where the canoes are stationed.
The kayaker is dressed in a cut-off tee and board shorts, his right arm completely covered in tattoos. I expect him to take the turn that leads to the other house, but he walks barefoot up the embankment straight towards me. I spot a cast on his left arm, which begs the question how he’d managed to pick up that kayak the way he did.
He must have seen me in his approach, but he stops suddenly at the foot of the deck and peers up at me, squinting through one eye. His face is bruised and beaten up, with half healed cuts and scratches on his left cheek. There is one particular slash on his lips that makes me wonder how he drinks coffee, or maybe even speak, without it hurting. An unattractive bruise has settled on the left side of his jaw.
“You might want to take a picture, sweetheart,” he says, coming closer. “It will last longer and I’m definitely not standing out in the sun all day.”
He has an air of easy confidence. I find myself shrinking a bit as he approaches. I blink, involuntarily taking a step back as he nears. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that...”
“I look like shit? Tell me something I don’t know.” I can smell sunscreen on his skin. “And to answer your next question, which I know you will ask at some point because everyone does, I was in a car accident.”
“Looks like it was a bad one.” I say, attempting small talk.
“Damn right, but I made it, which is more than I can say for the other guy.”
“Jesus.”
He smirks. “Something like that.”
His eyes are the lightest shade of green I have ever seen. The left one is a little bloodshot, which I affiliate with the accident. The bruise on his face looks painful. I don’t want to be caught staring again, so I let my eyes drift along the outlines of his tattoos. I can see suns and planets, all bursting with colour, inked into h
is skin. Shades of purple and pink and orange. Galaxies exist on his arm. Charlie would adore this.
“Are you going to creep me out all day or are you going to tell me who the hell you are?”
I come back to the moment. “Oh, right. Sorry. I assumed you’d know,” I say, concentrating on his face again. “I’m Abby. I’m here with Eric.”
I catch a glimmer of a smile on his lips. “Oh.”
“We tried the front door but it’s locked. He asked me to check back here while he looked around next door.”
He nods as I explain. “Yeah, Jodie’s out on her daily run, but she should be back any second.” He holds out his good hand to me. “Sorry about that. We weren’t expecting you until later. I’m Bay.”
I shake his hand. “Hello.”
Bay attempts a smile, but winces as his lip cracks, touching his fingers to the cut on his mouth. “I always forget about this one.”
He pushes into the house through the unlocked side door, gesturing for me to follow. The cool air inside envelops us whole, and although it is a welcome change from the stinging sun, I want to be out there still, warming up, feeling better.
We enter through the kitchen, the house opening to greet me. The exterior of the cabin belittles the size of the inside. Like Eric’s apartment, it’s all open-plan. The ceilings are high and stretched into a peaked roof. Although the sun has not reached the kitchen area yet, in the living room it looks warm and inviting, the sun streaming through the big windows that wrap around half of the house and falling onto the wooden floors and well-worn rugs. There is a daybed and a couch warming in the sun, each abundant with pillows in colours that don’t seem to go together.
To the right, the front door is flanked by a tall standing lamp on one side and a makeshift bookshelf on the other. The living room breaks off into other rooms to the left, where my eyes cannot follow.
Bay opens the refrigerator, bottles clanking against each other in the door, and retrieves a bottle of water. He breaks the seal and sips from it, eyeing me as he does. The kitchen is small, but the space is utilized well. Shelves line up on the walls at different heights, holding plates and coffee cups and jars. There are fresh flowers in a vase above the sink, framed by the window that overlooks the lake. It’s cosy and delightful, and even though I have not yet met Jodie, her personality shines through her eclectic decorative style.
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