Good Morning Heartache

by Audrey Dacey

  “Alright. I guess.”

  “What are you doing tomorrow? My guess is that you don't have plans since you thought that you were working.” She rushed through the sentences. She wasn't sure why she was doing what she was doing, but it felt right to her. That evening she had learned that he was easy to talk to, as long as she was leading the conversation, and she was sick of being alone. She needed someone to help fill the emptiness she had been living with for almost a week.

  “I'm not doing anything,” he replied, cautiously.

  “I'm going to pick you up early. Like 6:00. Is that okay?”

  “In the morning?”

  Alexis could easily detect the hesitation in his voice, so she quickly made her demands. “You can sleep in the car if you want. You should bring a bathing suit and a change of clothes. And please don't wear a business suit.”

  “What's wrong with a business suit?”

  “Nothing is wrong with it. It's just not suitable for the Cape.”

  “We're going to the Cape?”

  “That's a really stupid question, Ryan. I just told you that we were. So, I'll see you at six.”

  “I guess.”

  “Bye.” She hung up the phone before he could protest. He didn't seem sold on the idea, but he couldn't back out now. He didn't have her phone number.

  Alexis was sure this was a bad idea, but it was her only option, and he was the one that opened the door to friendship.

  If she had her way, tomorrow would be filled with margaritas, small talk, sun, and waves. It would be exactly what she needed to end a disaster of a week before starting the next one.

  Alexis hung up the phone and slipped into a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt, and then went downstairs to let Sam out one last time and lock up the house. She opened the sliding glass door and let the dog, who could barely contain his happiness at being let outside, out onto the deck. She watched as he leaped down the wooden staircase and out into the yard. She envied Sam. His life was simple. So was mine, she thought, up until about a week ago.

  While she was waiting for Sam to finish up, Alexis walked to the front of the house to lock the front door and saw Richard’s flowers on her coffee table with the creepy note that tried to make her look like a bad person. She hadn’t betrayed him. He just didn’t believe her when she said all she wanted was sex. He wasn’t even a very good lay.

  After clicking the deadbolt into place on both the front and garage doors, Alexis grabbed the flowers. She didn’t have the energy to shred them and send them back today. It was more work than it was worth, which was apparently nothing because Richard hadn’t gotten the hint yet.

  She walked into the kitchen and came upon a solution. She set the flowers on the kitchen counter and turned on the water and garbage disposal. This was going to be a lot easier than scissors. Two at a time, she guided the pink roses and white calla lilies down the hole in her sink. The disposal didn’t have any trouble with them. As she finished up, Sam barked at the door.

  It was still early, but Alexis was going to bed. She’d had enough of today.

  Chapter 10

  Ryan gripped the red door handle on the passenger side of Alexis's Porsche as she weaved in and out of traffic. She wasn't going fast. It was morning rush hour, so no one was going fast. She was, however, going faster than everyone else. It was too early, and Ryan hadn't had enough coffee to be jostled around the state by a wild woman. He wasn't happy that she managed to con him into going with her as it was, and adding several near death experiences wasn't helping his mood.

  The main problem he had with Alexis was that he liked her. A lot. Ryan couldn't think of a woman that he found as sexy, intriguing, and honest as Alexis. Her full lips seemed to beg him to kiss them, and her silky brown hair cried out to be tangled around his fingers. It was scary, and he knew that he should stay away from her before things went too far.

  Ryan had promised himself after his mother left that he wouldn't let a woman run his life and then ruin it. He saw what love could do to a man, and he wasn't going to let it happen to him. By throwing himself into his work and keeping himself at a reasonable personal and emotional distance from women, he had managed to stay safe.

  Until Alexis.

  Every time he saw her, he remembered her skin against his and her smell when he had breathed her in deeply. Usually he didn't notice these things when he was with a woman, but it was difficult for him to forget her. And it wasn't like she was making it easy. Every time he turned around she was there, tempting him. He had to run out of McDonald's the other night, or he would have done something stupid. Like proposition her right after she said they couldn't have sex ever again. His groin had ached from her words, and he had felt the painful stab of disappointment. But when she told him about her life, and her fiancé, she had become real, vulnerable. He found himself wanting to hold her, comfort her, but he knew that he couldn't. She wouldn’t allow it.

  He knew he enjoyed her company, he certainly knew he wanted to sleep with her again, but he was also getting this strange feeling that something else was going on. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

  Alexis swerved onto the shoulder of the road, and her tires thudded over the uneven pavement. She passed a station wagon circa 1985 and pulled back into the left lane. Ryan squeezed the door handle tighter, and she must have noticed him become tense because she asked under a smile, “You okay over there?”

  “I'm a little nervous. I don't have the same death wish you do,” he said, not daring to take his eyes off the road as she had.

  Her unbridled laughter carried over the purr of the engine, and surprisingly, she slowed down after passing the next car.

  “Better, Grandma?”

  Ryan relaxed a bit, and his knuckles returned to their normal color from the white they had been for most of the ride. “Yeah, thanks.”

  One of the other things that frightened him about her was that he was sure she was crazy. She had to be. Her story was tragic, but she didn’t seem to have any sadness. No one—especially a woman—could be dumped two weeks before their wedding and turn out normal, and based on his experience, she was anything but normal.

  Alexis was fully immersed in the driving experience, so he decided not to bother her with small talk. Not that he had the ability to initiate or maintain small talk. He could give her a business spiel, but he doubted she wanted to hear anything about form over function or the various architectural styles that they passed along the way.

  A couple of hours of Tchaikovsky later and they were passing through the winding roads of a small town situated along Outer Cape Cod. Trees lined the streets, and from Ryan's point-of-view he thought it might be the perfect little town. The kind of town that you saw in movies but never believed existed.

  Watching two young boys playing in the street, he could suddenly understand Daniel's position on moving to Massachusetts over staying in New York. This area was better to raise kids. It didn’t have the traffic or the noise, and Ryan couldn’t imagine being mugged on the streets of this town or Maple Field. Ryan loved the city, but if he had a family, he would seriously consider Daniel's offer to help start a business in this state, especially considering he was going nowhere at Pontus.

  Since he was alone, it was more advantageous and comfortable for him to stay in the city. It was an easy decision. There were better opportunities in New York, and Ryan figured he would be lonely in a place like this. Staying in Maple Field for the last week had been torture. The quiet unnerved him most of the time, and while he may not socialize with the people of Manhattan, just having somebody within a few dozen feet of him at all times provided some sort of comfort. It was like having a bunch of friends he was so relaxed around that no one felt the need to talk.

  The trees opened up as the bay came into view, and the car moved at a steady pace up a small hill toward a big white house. It was two stories, the second story peaking at the top so that it looked like a tall barn. A covered porch wrapped around the side of the
house with tall pillars and a short, slotted railing at the back that overlooked a private beach. The yard was well-maintained, and he could see that someone had opened all of the windows. The Porsche turned into the driveway that ran along the house’s side.

  It was probably built in the 1920's, Ryan decided. Clean and classic.

  Both passengers began climbing out of the car and into the salty breeze of the coast. “This is your house?” Ryan asked, examining the angles and slopes of the roof.

  “Mine and my sister's,” she replied. Ryan looked over at her and noticed that she, too, seemed to be taking in the magnificence of the house. Maybe she wouldn’t mind an architectural lecture, he thought.

  Alexis looked over at him, and they locked eyes. She gave him a slight smile. “We inherited it when my parents died.”

  He continued looking into her warm hazel eyes across the hood of the car and felt the need for her crawling across his skin. “It's beautiful.” Ryan removed his gaze from hers and directed it to the curtains fluttering in the windows. “Is someone here?”

  Alexis had moved to the trunk. She pulled out his overnight bag and handed it to him.

  “Sue and Mick. Sue's taken care of the house for as long as I can remember. When she married Mick, he took over the outdoor maintenance. I called last night to let them know we were coming. Looks like she opened it up for us.” Grabbing her bag and closing the trunk lid, Alexis started toward the porch, and Ryan followed her. “They live in the guest house over there.” She raised a hand and pointed to a small house that matched the larger one in color and style.

  A white wooden screen door off the porch let them into the house. Though the door was old, it didn’t creak or wobble. Mick and Sue were doing a good job.

  Alexis proceeded to give him a brief tour of the simply furnished, comfortable house. He took everything in like he was a student again, examining every ceiling beam, tile accent, and baseboard.

  Ryan peeked his head into a series of bedrooms until she stopped at one she called the “second master” because it was the only other bedroom that had a small attached private bathroom. The breeze off the bay rushed through the two windows that overlooked the water, pushing out the warm air that tried to settle in the house.

  “You should put on your swimsuit and meet me on the sundeck. Want something to eat?”

  Ryan gazed about the room, taking in everything from the shabby chic bedding to the antique rocking chair in the corner. Finally, he turned to Alexis. “Sure. That would be great.”

  She gave him a soft smile. “I shouldn’t have even asked.” Alexis turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. Ryan set the small bag on the full-sized bed and unzipped it.

  He could imagine Alexis running around here as a young girl with pigtails and a dirty face. A place like this would be great for a child. Ryan shook away the flash of his run-down four-room house in Iowa. Back then, he was just glad he didn't have to live in a single-wide. He'd since realized he deserved more from his parents. The house didn't have to be the Ritz—or even as nice as this one—but his parents could have kept it clean. It was no wonder his own apartment was called minimalist at best, but more accurately described as sparse and sterile. This little room felt more like home than any place he had lived in all of his life.

  As Ryan unzipped the main pocket of the bag, he considered Daniel's offer again. He'd never admit it to his friend, but in this moment it seemed like a good idea. It probably wouldn't seem that way once he left the Cape, and certainly not when he returned to New York.

  After undressing and slipping on his knee-length navy shorts, Ryan made his way down the stairs and out the screen door. It was still kind of early, and the lazy town was only barely waking up. He'd seen only the two boys on their drive in, and since then, the only human voice he had heard was Alexis's.

  He turned the corner and circled around to the back of the house. Down a short flight of stairs and across a gray deck, Alexis stood looking out over the low tide. A white swimsuit clung to her torso, and a turquoise sarong rested around her hips, its length flapping in the wind against her long, smooth legs. A floppy straw hat was draped over her head, concealing her hair and face. The style seemed too conservative for her. He had expected spring-break-style beach attire from her —a brightly colored thong and tiny triangles barely covering her nipples—though he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just what he hoped to see. But the elegance and modesty of her swimsuit was more appealing than the might-as-well-be-naked suit he had envisioned.

  He began descending the stairs, his flip flops smacking against his heels with each step. Alexis turned and looked at him briefly before taking one last look at the shore and moving to a set of lounge chairs. She chose the far one and sat with her legs stretched out in front of her.

  Ryan took the other chair and noticed a plate of fresh-cut fruit was set on the small wooden table between them.

  “That's not much of a breakfast,” he commented.

  “You're lucky this was ready to go. I don't know if you know this, but I don't cook. At least not well.” Her large sunglasses hid her hazel eyes, but he knew that they would have that mischievous smile to match the one that had formed on her lips. It was something she did when she thought she was being cute.

  Ryan grabbed a piece of watermelon. “I don't think that cutting fruit counts as cooking.” He sunk his teeth into the soft flesh and was rewarded with the sweet juice rushing across his tongue. “It’s good though.”

  Alexis grabbed a strawberry, “Yes, it is.” For a few minutes they enjoyed the sweetness of the fruit and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

  The silence was only interrupted by Alexis reflecting aloud. “I forget how much I love it here. I didn't come at all last year.”

  “I don't think that it would be easy for me to stay away. That is, if I had all the free time you have.” Ryan grimaced at himself. He shouldn't have said anything, but it was one of the things that really bothered him about her. She called herself a writer but didn't write anything. She'd even laughed at the idea of working whereas he couldn't imagine his life without work. In fact, it's what scared him the most about starting his own business—he might not have any clients and then he wouldn't have anything to work on.

  Alexis didn't attack like he expected her to. Instead, she flatly asked, “What occupies all of your time that you wouldn't be able to spend your weekends in the Cape?”

  “Work. I spend a lot of time at the office or at sites.” Of course, if he wasn't officially working, he was working on a design at the drafting table in his apartment. “Architecture is my life.” It made him a little sick to say it out loud, but it was the only thing he could rely on to remain constant. He could depend on physics to keep it that way. Even if he got fired, which would never happen, he could continue to design on his own; though, it wouldn’t be the same. There wasn’t a point to drawing things that would only exist on paper.

  “So, how come you came with me this weekend? Why didn't you go work somewhere this weekend?” she asked, her gaze turning away from the vastness of the sea before them to his face.

  “I was planning on working. I was going to go back to New York, but you left me very little choice in the matter.”

  Alexis laughed, and it warmed a spot in the middle of his chest. There was a lightness between them now. Before, Ryan felt nothing but the tension between them, but somewhere between her swerving in and out of traffic and this moment, all of that tension had disappeared, and Ryan was able to relax a little bit. He sat back and let his shoulders sink into the lounge chair.

  “If you had to work, I mean really had to work, I think you would have found a way out of it.”

  Alexis was right. In many ways he was dreading going back to the city and seeing everyone in the office, especially the schmuck that got his job, but he didn't want to think about that right now.

  “I think I am going to go for a swim. You wanna come?” Alexis stood up and untied the sarong fro
m around her hips. She laid it across the lounge chair, tossed the big hat on top of it, and turned back to Ryan for an answer.

  He ran his eyes over every curve of her body, noted every freckle. The pulse of desire tugged at him, but he had to at least try to squelch the temptation. Put a little distance between them.

  “No, not yet.” He rubbed his stomach. “I just ate.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said and walked to an opening on the south side of the deck that led directly to the beach.

  Ryan took in all that she had to offer: the curves of her breasts and hips, her long toned legs. That feeling continued to twist in him. It was a flutter of craving and something else. He pushed the something else to the back of his mind, where he wanted it, and appreciated everything about the woman walking away from him.

  The craving enslaved him. Throbbed through him. He had to bed her again, at least one more time. That would make this little weekend trip truly relaxing. Ryan fantasized that he followed her into the water, and he undressed her right there in the waves. Or that they made use of the private beach. Rolled around in the sand, let the waves sink them deeper into the beach, and drew in the salty air with heavy breaths.

  He stood up from his chair and walked to the edge of the deck. The wet swimsuit was clinging to Alexis's body more tightly than when she was dry. She ran her fingers through her dripping hair, and when she saw him looking at her she waved at him to join her. To help himself to his fantasies. But as he moved toward the beach, he stopped himself.

  He couldn't do it. Not out there or in the house. Alexis had made it perfectly clear that their naked time together extended only to that one night, and as much as Ryan wanted to fight her on it, it wouldn't be fair. If there was one thing he was against, it was having sex with someone who didn't want to have sex with him.

  Ryan took a final lingering look at the figure standing in the tide splashing water on her bare skin before waving her off. He hadn’t exercised yet, and a nice hour jog along the shore seemed like the best idea he’d had all week. He descended the stairs and ran away from the beautiful woman in the water.