“Wanna see what’s on the menu?” He grabbed the first Tupperware and pulled off the top revealing Deviled Eggs.
“Yum. Love ‘em. But we’re going to have stinky egg breath,” I commented.
Smiling, “No worries, I’d kiss you even if you had tuna breath.”
I laughed, choking on a sip of the rum drink.
Opening the second Tupperware, “And for our main course, the health-conscious delicacies of wings and loaded potato skins.”
“Yum.” He even had blue cheese dressing and celery for the wings and sour cream for the potato skins. “And where’s dessert?”
“Dessert,” he flashed a smile, “is below deck.”
Shaking my head, “Pass the eggs, please.” Refilling our glasses, I suggested, “How about we eat first, then talk.”
“Good plan. So, has Scarlett taken her tiara off yet?”
“Oh God, no. She’s obsessed with it. Please tell me she didn’t send you a selfie of wearing her crown on the throne aka the toilet.” I knew she took the photo and I was praying he said no.
Laughing, “No, that one she hasn’t sent. But that’s actually really funny.”
“She is really funny. She’s a good kid. So, I have something to tell you.” I shifted under the blanket so that I was now facing him. “Scarlett and I and her BFF Emmy have been teaching the Saturday morning art class over at Special Friends Organization. I wanted to carry on Stacy’s work and I didn’t want the kids to lose something so valuable.”
Nodding, his smile was a sad one. “I know. Camille was very excited when you showed up on her doorstep. She said you were Stacy’s gift from heaven.”
I had to look away. It was too early in the evening to shed tears, so I reached for my drink and grabbed a chicken wing.
“You knew?”
“Yes. The cards they made today were amazing.”
Shocked, I looked at Wes, half-eaten wing still in my mouth. It had never dawned on me. Quickly swallowing, I had to ask the question. “Wes, did you donate the laptops?”
Looking down in his lap, I could see his smile.
“Wes?” I asked again.
“It was the least I could do. You stepped in where you were needed to make a difference in those families’ lives and I wanted to make sure you had the tools to take the kids’ skills to the next level.”
I should have guessed it. “Well, thank you. I have to tell you that the highlight of my week is Saturday morning. That has been the one bright spot in a really tough time.”
“Thank you for not letting my sister’s legacy die.”
“Honestly, I was shocked when I learned that she taught art there. But Stacy really surprised me a lot. I miss her.”
“I do, too.”
There was no mistaking the pain in his eyes. I wanted to lean over and hug him, but we needed to let this conversation continue.
“So, I have something big to tell you, too.” Wes began.
My stomach knotted. I was definitely in glass half empty mode and had been since the weekend everything blew up.
“Okay,” I said, trepidation clearly in my voice.
“Actually, it’s something I think you’ll like,” he paused. “I fired Julien.”
“What?” The word came out louder than I anticipated. “What happened?” I implored, modulating my tone.
“Everything happened and had been happening for a long time. The situation with you just brought it to a head.”
I bit my tongue because I knew that pun was totally unintended and I needed to let it pass.
“Go on,” I urged and grabbed the jug, refilling both our glasses.
“After the fundraiser I confronted him about his conversation with you. And I knew he was lying to me. I’ve known the guy practically my entire life, he should know that I know when he’s bullshitting me. I’ve always treated him like family, but I’m not stupid.” He was very serious as he gazed into my eyes.
“So, what did he tell you?”
“He told me April 22, 1994 was the first time he met you.”
“Me?” I choked again on my drink. That was the last thing I was expecting.
“Yeah, he told me that he met you and a group of your friends at a movie theater in Manhattan and that you had sex with him in one of the back rows and then stalked him until you went away to college.”
I actually started to laugh at the absurdity of his lie. “Oh my God, Wes. The man is a sociopath.”
“Tara, I don’t know what the real story is, but I knew enough to know he was lying and it was at the expense of damaging you and he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about my happiness. It was all about protecting himself.”
“Julien is missing a central thing that makes humans’ human – empathy and the ability to love others. I don’t know if it stems from his childhood trauma or if it is inherent. I’m not a professional. But what I do know is he’s dangerous in that he will hurt others intentionally with no remorse. No remorse at all.”
“So, what happened on April 22, 1994, Tara?”
Letting out a sigh, my heart was breaking having to tell him this. But Wes needed the truth. Getting up, I walked over to the bench where my purse was and took out my wallet. From the bill compartment, I pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“She was certain this would never see the light of day,” I began. “And the reason she never told you,” I paused, exhaling deeply, “was because she didn’t want you to look at her differently. She never wanted to let you down,” my voice cracked. “But this belongs to you.” I handed Wes Stacy’s letter.
With a surprised look on his face, he took the note from me and unfolded it. I watched his face as he read his sister’s words, the pain surfacing both quickly and deeply. He wiped his eyes with the back of his fingers and said, “Excuse me,” in a hoarse voice, got up and went below deck.
I didn’t follow, as that was a moment he needed to himself.
Wes was composed when he returned a few minutes later. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” He shook his head, “That fucking son of a bitch.”
“I’m in total agreement with you on that one. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just processing that and feeling guilty that Stacy had to put up with him her whole life because of me.”
“You can’t beat yourself up over stuff you didn’t know. The only thing you can do is if you were feeling the least bit guilty about severing ties with him, now you know you totally did the right thing.” I grabbed a potato skin and dipped it in the sour cream. I was nervous eating now. “I can’t believe he made up that story about me. What a douche.”
Leaning toward me, Wes wiped a dab of sour cream from the corner of my lip and then licked it off his finger. “I think it was actually some underlying jealousy and hatred toward me, rather than at you. When we were younger, we’d walk into a club or a party together and all the girls wanted him. If he knew I liked a girl, he would go after her.”
Laughing, “I am sure you were not hard up for women. You have always been a chick magnet. I know this firsthand. The women he got were probably as shallow as he was. The man is a shell.”
“A good-looking shell. The guy looks like Rob Lowe.”
“He’s a handsome guy, there’s no doubt about that. Until you get to know him and you find out that he’s a really ugly person. He was jealous of you, Wes. Jealous that you had a good marriage, jealous that you built a really respected and successful company. And everyone who knows you, loves you. You’ve achieved everything he is not capable of.”
I was now back to the wings and drowning them in blue cheese. I was glad the food was here to keep my nervous hands busy.
“I hated finding out about the two of you. It just resurrected a lifetime of old feelings of him stealing what was mine.” He reached for a wing. “I’m sorry you got caught up in my insecurity and jealousy, Tara.”
As I finished my wing, I laughed, “So much for eating, then talking.” Looking around, I asked, “Do you have napkins?”
He smiled, “I have better. Be right back.” He disappeared below deck again and returned a moment later with a handful of packets of Wet Naps.
“Oh excellent.” I reached for a packet. “You really are prepared.”
“Yeah, but I was thinking this might not be such a good idea to bring them out.”
“Why?” I laughed. “Wet Naps are the best.”
“Nope. I totally disagree. This is much better.” Reaching over, he grabbed my right hand and sucked my index finger into his mouth, licking off the Buffalo sauce.
“Oh, dirty pool, Bergman,” I protested.
“I’m on a mission.” He smiled, sucking another finger into his mouth.
“You don’t know where that finger’s been.”
“It’s been in your mouth. A place I like being.” He licked my ring finger.
“This is going to be some conversation. We have a long way until dawn.”
“So, as I was saying before you interrupted with your sticky fingers.” He smiled, but it quickly faded. “Finding out about the two of you destroyed me.” He picked up his cup and drained it, then held it out for me to refill.
“That is why I tried to tell you about it that night. And with the way you responded, I thought Julien had already told you and that you knew.”
Wes laughed and sat back with his drink. “You had sex in my shower. That is what I was referring to.”
Nodding, “I did. I had sex in your shower. I thought it was his cabin and I went in to pee. I was mortified later when I saw you walk in there. It was like oh fuck, what are the chances?”
“See look, you just totally ‘fessed up to that. You didn’t make up a lie about it.”
“Of course not,” I countered. “I’m not a psychopath and that is why I wanted to tell you about Julien that night, because I never wanted it to come between us. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for me to tell you, but I thought you had a right to know before we became lovers.”
Turning to me, he put a hand on my cheek. The warmth of his skin in the cold night air was like a salve formulated to repair the network of cracks in my heart.
“It was my fault for not letting you tell me. And then I took it out on you, when, in fact, the onus is on me for that miscommunication.”
His hand was still on my cheek when I began to speak. “As I said that night in the hospital, from the moment you stepped back into my life, Wes, there’s been no one else.”
Leaning forward, he laid a soft kiss on my lips. “I’m also sorry that I laid so much on you on the dance floor at the fundraiser. After having no contact, I kinda blindsided you. I realized that afterwards.”
“Here’s the thing. I know you were going through an unimaginable amount of grief. I totally get that and I can sympathize. But what I don’t know is, is this typically how you’d react? Or was this an anomaly because of the extenuating circumstances?”
Taking his hand from my cheek, Wes sat back in his chair and looked up at the night sky. “Tara, I’d like to tell you that this is not how I treat people. But it was how I treated you. And I’m not proud of it. I wasn’t listening to you that night at the hospital because I needed someplace to put all my pain. And I dumped it on you.” Shaking his head, “That was so wrong. You were the last person I should have dumped it on.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “But Julien had just trashed me to you after you thought what you and I had was real.”
“It was real.” As was the pain on Wes’ face.
Reaching over to grab his hand, I squeezed it tightly. “Yes Wes, it was very real. Which is why this has been so painful.”
It was a moment before he squeezed my hand back. “Tara, all I can do is try to show you through my actions that I will not put anyone before you and Scarlett ever again. That this was the exception and not the standard for how I conduct myself and treat those I love.” Turning to me, “Please believe me, T.”
I smiled at the use of his nickname for me. Pulling the blanket up around my neck, I shifted closer to him and put my head on his shoulder. “It’s cold out here, keep me warm.”
Wrapping his arms around me, we sat silently for a while.
“Are you sleeping?” he asked.
Lifting my head to look up at him, I smiled. “No. I’m still awake.”
Leaning me back in his arms, Wes’ lips came down on mine as my fingers got lost in his curls. It was in that moment that I let myself realize the extent of the pain I’d been in and ended the kiss, because much to my chagrin, a deluge of tears began to flow. What kind of tears were they? Anger? Sadness? Depression? Happiness? All of the above? I had no clue. All I knew was that they were drowning me.
“Hey, talk to me, T.” He brushed the hair back from my face.
“I don’t know, Wes. I think it’s just all the emotions of everything we’ve gone through surfacing.” I wiped my tears away with my sweater sleeve.
“Please tell me what that means,” he implored, looking alarmed.
“It means I have been so miserable. I’ve been grieving the loss of both you and Stacy and trying to stay strong. I thought once I got through the fundraiser, I could move on. That wouldn’t be hanging over me anymore and I could work on healing without the scab getting ripped off. And then I’ve spent the last two weeks really stressed out about tonight. Not stressed so much about seeing you, but more fearful of what Julien was going to pull on me to intentionally rattle me and make me look bad in front of you and my colleagues.”
Hitting himself in the forehead with the heel of his palm, “Oh God, Tara, I didn’t even think about the strain this would put on you. I really didn’t understand the extent of the psychological warfare he had waged on you. I just kept thinking about how fun I could make this night for the two of us and that we’d finally get the chance to lay all our cards on the table. I’m so sorry.” His arms went around me in a tight hug. “Jeez, have I been fucking with your head or what? What a dumbass I’ve been. I am so, so sorry.”
Taking a deep breath, I tried to pull myself together, immediately angry that I’d allowed myself to fall apart.
As if sensing my thoughts, Wes whispered in my ear, “You don’t always have to be so strong, you know.”
I nodded against his chest, “Yeah Wes, I do.”
“Tara, look at me.”
I pulled my face from his chest. Tilting his head to the side, I could see how upset he was with himself for all the pain he had caused me.
“Tara, I love you.” The sincerity in his words was unmistakable.
“I love you, too, Wes.” We had both finally said the words.
His smile immediately brought me back to the night we met and the blood rush I felt the first time I saw it.
“Is it time for dessert yet?” I asked. “It’s cold as Hell up here.”
“Almost.”
“What do you mean almost?” I laughed.
Grabbing his phone, I could tell from the look on his face that Mr. Bergman had something up his sleeve.
Standing, he reached for my hand to pull me up. “One dance before dessert.”
The first strains of Boston’s More Than a Feeling began and my arms went around his waist. With my head buried in his soft cable knit sweater, I felt the darkness that had been following me since late summer begin to dissipate and I held onto Wes a little bit tighter.
“I love you, Tara. I’ve always loved you.”
It certainly was more than a feeling.
The smell of strong coffee was an enticing alarm clock. Rolling over, the bed next to me was empty and the sheets were cool. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, it was 7:15 a.m. I was drawn into the salon by the coffee’s fragrant scent and I could see Wes already on deck, cup in hand, watching as the sky lightened.
Quickly pulling on my clothes, I climbed the stairs, steaming mug in hand, to join him topside to watch the sun break the horizon.
“Well, we didn’t quite make it talking until dawn.” I sat down on the bench next to him,
watching the sky continue to lighten and enjoy the colorful show on the clouds that awaited the sun’s arrival. I had missed the deep rose colors as the sunrise was entering its pink into deep orange phase.
Smiling, he kissed my temple. “We did pretty good considering we’re no longer twenty-somethings.”
“We did very good,” I agreed.
Lovemaking had been very emotional and claiming. We started fast and rough and primal and ended clingy and touchy. Wordlessly, we each communicated the sadness and angst of the recent past attempting to fuck it into hope and solidarity.
The top curve of the sun broke the Long Island Sound’s waters on the eastern horizon. With a smile, I savored my dark roast and stole a glance at the man sitting next to me.
“What?” he asked, as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he lifted his coffee cup to meet it.
“It’s sunrise.”
He turned to me, this time with a full smile. “I feel like I should go get you my Clash tee-shirt.”
I laughed and began to sing, “Should I stay or should I go?”
“So, what’s it gonna be, T?”
“You really have to ask?” The morning air was cold and beautiful and very refreshing. I watched the sun light up the world as it totally severed from the horizon.
“I do. I don’t want there to be any miscommunications or assumptions between us.”
“I love you, Wes.”
“What?”
“I love you, Wes,” I said a little louder.
“What was that?” That smile was making my heart melt.
“I love you, Wes,” I screamed.
“So, does that mean you’re staying?” He pushed my hair behind my ear.
“Do you want me to stay?” I looked at him wide-eyed.
“Do you really have to ask?” He could barely contain his smile.
“I do. I don’t want there to be any miscommunications or assumptions between us.” I kept a straight face as I parroted back his words at him.
The Do-Over Page 23
