Moore than a Feeling

by Julie A. Richman

  “That might be a good idea. I’ll definitely think about it,” she promised.

  “And speaking of Aiden. I ran into Mr. McManus on my way home tonight.”

  “Oh, you did, did you?” Holly sat up straight, alert, eager to hear about her father’s encounter with him. “And what did he have to say for himself?”

  “Tapas.” Schooner smiled.

  “Tapas?” Holly was lost, she tossed the peach back into the bowl and looked at her father questioningly.

  He nodded. “Tapas. You know the place with the really nice porch on Bayberry Walk?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He was standing in the street, looking at the place and I asked him what he was thinking. And he’s thinking he’d like to turn it into a tapas place.”

  “Tapas would be good. There’s nothing like it out here. But wouldn’t it be expensive to buy or rent the building and renovate it into a restaurant?” She knew her father would know about this, considering how many Level 9 facilities he had built.

  Schooner nodded. “I would think it would take a significant amount of capital.”

  “Well, I hope it happens. I think it would be good for him to throw himself into a project like that. I bet that would help him feel more connected. I don’t think he feels very connected right now.”

  “I think you’re right, sweetheart.”

  Schooner hoped the seed he had planted in Holly’s mind about getting into therapy was something she would start to consider seriously. He was worried about her and knew he didn’t have all the right answers. But he did know one thing, he knew his daughter, and could see she was suffering deeply, and if there was such a thing as PTSD by proxy, she had it.

  Over a week had passed, and after the moment they had shared in the hall by the offices at Castaway, Holly thought for sure she’d hear from Aiden, and that they’d have the opportunity to talk. But there had been radio silence. Compulsively, she checked her phone for texts and emails that never came. Midweek, she and Mia took the kids to Maguire’s for steamers, but it turned out to be Aiden’s night off. The purple-haired waitress wasn’t working that night, either.

  And now it was the start of another weekend, and as she waited for Pierce’s ferry to arrive, her mind and stomach both churned from conflicting emotions gnawing at her heart.

  Should she have uninvited Pierce? No! He had proven to be a good friend and uninviting him because her ex had a baseless dislike for him would just be wrong.

  Should she be more empathetic to Aiden’s feelings about this? Aiden had left her for another woman. He had been sleeping with that other woman. Pierce was just a friend. A friend whom Aiden was unfoundedly jealous.

  Should she have texted him during the week to initiate a conversation. She didn’t even have his new cell phone number.

  Should she just have stopped by his place? Did he need his space? Or was space the worst thing in the world for him? If she stopped by, she was again the one making the overture to connect. If he really wanted to connect, he’d seek her out. He actually had her cell number and could contact her, if he wanted.

  But obviously he hadn’t wanted to.

  If he wanted to see me or talk to me, I’m easy to find.

  “Whatcha thinkin’?” Pierce whispered in her ear.

  Holly jumped. She hadn’t even seen him approach and there he was, standing toe to toe with her.

  “Hi.” She smiled at her friend.

  As Pierce pulled her in for a big hug, all Holly could think was he’s hugging me whether I want him to or not. And she wondered, is there anything that happens that doesn’t remind me of Aiden?

  “Oh, man, I missed this place. I’ve always loved playing the Hamptons in summer, but this has really spoiled me.”

  “Well, it’s good to have you back.” She patted him on the shoulder as they started toward the house. “Good trip out? Even though you had to do it sober.”

  “Yeah, just put on my headphones and chilled.”

  Crossing Bayberry Walk, Holly couldn’t help but look down the street at the building with the porch, hoping that Aiden was moving forward with his dream, and feeling tremendous guilt that Pierce was with her, and that Aiden might find that upsetting. She was already wondering if the weekend family dinner at Maguire’s was something she and Pierce should miss. He’d already had a few dinners there with the family on weekends before Aiden came back, so he would know something was off. He’s just a friend. Get out of your head with this stuff, she silently screamed at herself.

  “I thought maybe we’d take a walk over to Ocean Bay Park tonight to The Schooner Inn and see Mikey.”

  “I like that idea. I had so much fun playing there. That is such a great crowd.”

  “I think we’re grilling lobsters tonight.”

  “I definitely showed up on the right night.” He looked around, breathing the sea air in deeply. “It is so good to be back. Jenna loved it out here.”

  “Jenna loved my dad.” Holly laughed.

  “I love your dad. We’re having a total bromance.”

  “You really are.” She looked at him. “It’s sick.”

  “She told me she wants in on the adoption.”

  “Hey, I just need to stop here at the bakery. I promised Heckle and Jeckle I’d bring them back cookies.”

  “Who?”

  Holly laughed. “Family joke. Zac always calls Natie and Po Heckle and Jeckle.”

  “Yeah, I can see it. Totally fits them.” Looking at the pastry cases and menu, Pierce pointed to a tray of bars with roasted marshmallows on top. “What are those?”

  “Those are a mouth orgasm. They’re s’more brownies.”

  “Hey, let me buy the stuff for the kids and dessert for everyone tonight. It’s the least I can do for freeloading half the summer.”

  “I’m sure that will be much appreciated and devoured. If you get the crumb cake, Mia might expedite the adoption papers, and she’ll definitely be your best friend for life.”

  “And what about you? What does it take to make you my best friend?”

  “Well, that’s pretty obvious.” Looking at him, she laughed. “A bottle of Jack.”

  As they walked out with a filled bakery box, Pierce commented, “So, I hear my sister met Aiden.”

  “And you’re about to right now,” she muttered only loud enough for Pierce to hear.

  Just several yards away, turning off Denhoff Walk on his way to Maguire’s, was Aiden, dressed for work in black pants and a light blue shirt.

  “Hi.” Holly’s smile came naturally. It was impossible not to smile. Just like it was impossible for her to slow down the racing beat of her heart.

  Aiden’s face lit up for a second, until he processed what was going on and the light immediately extinguished. He acknowledged Holly with a nod of his head and silence, walking past them, and not looking back.

  “I just ruined his day,” Pierce commented.

  Holly couldn’t help but hurt for him.

  “We have reservations at Maguire’s tonight,” Mia said to Holly the next morning as they shared an early coffee on the deck. Schooner was already on the tennis courts for a match, Henry had gone to a sunrise yoga class, and everyone else was still sleeping.

  “I know. I don’t know what I should do. Even though Aiden knows Pierce is out here, I don’t want to rub it in his face.”

  “I know. And if you don’t want to go tonight, I totally get it.”

  “But there’s another part of me, Mia, that says, why should I miss a family dinner because Aiden doesn’t like one of my friends?” She stared out at the ocean, hoping she’d have some clarity.

  “Holly, whatever you decide. There’s no right or wrong here. If Aiden sees you with Pierce, he’s not going to be happy. But if you and Pierce skip dinner, and we’re all there, that might make his imagination run even wilder and cause him even more anxiety.”

  Pulling her hair up into a messy bun, she shook her head. “I hadn’t even thought about that,” she paused.
“But that is under the assumption that he cares.”

  “I think we’re past assumption on that. I wonder how his therapy is going.” Mia raised the steaming mug to her lips.

  “No clue. He lets me in for really brief snippets, where I have this beautiful glimmer of hope, and then boom, the door slams in my face again. I know I said this before, but I feel like a puppet on a string.” Holly took her hair down, twisted it again, and put it back up into another messy bun.

  “And in this case, the puppet master is the one hanging on by a string. So, you do know what that means, don’t you?”

  “That I need to take back control?” It was a question and not a statement.

  Mia nodded.

  “Okay, so there’s my answer. Pierce and I will be joining the family for dinner tonight.” Picking up her mug, Holly took a sip, crinkling her nose. “Does this taste off to you? Is the milk bad?”

  “No. Tastes fine to me.” Mia took another sip. “I need to get Natie and Po up.” Mia stood and stretched. “Looks like we’ve got another perfect beach day on our hands.” Smiling at Holly, she laughed, “Paradise does not suck,” and she turned and went into the house.

  It sucks if you’re inside my head. It sucks if you’re on an island that is nothing more than a large sandbar and the man you love spends day after day ignoring your existence. It sucks if you know he’s emotionally drowning and you can’t get close enough to save him. Maybe paradise is not all it’s cracked up to be.

  Walking past the bar area with her heart squarely lodged in her throat, Holly caught Aiden’s eye, giving him a smile and a small wave, which he returned with an acknowledging nod. She noted his look harden the moment he saw Pierce with her family.

  Sheila greeted them to take a drink order. “Hello, handsome,” she greeted Schooner, “and handsome’s family. Oh, and version 2.0. Welcome back.”

  They all laughed at the greeting and Holly relaxed a little.

  “Are you okay here,” she asked Pierce, not having considered that dinner in the same place where her ex worked might be uncomfortable for him.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. No worries.”

  Sheila returned with their tray of drinks, when she came to Holly, she placed before her the iced tea she’d ordered and a tall, frozen drink the color of sunshine.

  “What’s this?” Holly asked.

  “That is from the bartender. He said to tell you it’s called a Malibu Barbie and that it’s made with Malibu rum.”

  “A Malibu Barbie.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Tell the bartender he’s an ass…”

  “Hole.” Aiden finished her sentence, surprising her when he walked up. “Not the first time you’ve called me that.” He smiled.

  “Something new for you to try.” He handed Schooner a glass of scotch.

  Lifting the glass, Schooner studied the color and clarity, before placing the glass under his nose, his eyes serious as he tried to identify the whisky’s notes.

  Looking up at Aiden, he said, “Oak and smoke are the first things I’m picking up, but there’s something else. What is that?” He placed the glass under his nose again and took another whiff. “Coastal?”

  “Very good.” Aiden was impressed. “Coastal peat.”

  Taking a sip of the scotch, Schooner let the initial sweet tone wash over his tongue, savoring it as it turned peppery, and enjoying the single malt’s lingering, smooth finish.

  “That is nice,” he concluded. “What is it?”

  “It’s a Talisker thirty-year-old, matured in both American and European refill casks.”

  Schooner took another sip, appreciating the subtleties of the scotch. “That is really special. Thank you.”

  “I thought you might appreciate it.” He looked at everyone sitting around the table with his gaze finally settling on Holly. “Enjoy your dinner, everyone.”

  As he went to leave, Portia called to him, waving him over and motioning for him to bend down where she whispered something in his ear that made him smile and give her shoulders a little squeeze before leaving.

  Watching the entire encounter, from the moment Sheila had delivered the drinks to Aiden’s departure, all Pierce could think was that Holly’s ex had just pissed all over the table, from one end clear to the other, marking his territory, and making it abundantly clear that this was his family. Everything that had just occurred had been for Pierce’s benefit.

  Territorial motherfucker, mused Pierce.

  “Excuse me,” Pierce got up from the table after they’d placed their order, heading toward the men’s room, before diverting to his actual destination.

  Taking a seat on a bar stool, he watched as Aiden greeted customers, mixed drinks and traversed the entire length of the bar, several times, without acknowledging his presence.

  ”What does it take for a Bun Man to get a drink?” he asked as Aiden was passing him for the third time.

  “A different bar.”

  “You’re a funny guy.”

  Aiden finally stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

  “Besides Holly?” Pierce baited. Craning his neck to look past Aiden at the line-up of local craft beers lining the bar, he said, “I’ll take an Illegally Blonde.”

  “Why am I not surprised.” Grabbing a cold bottle from the cooler, Aiden flipped off the cap, and set the dark Belgian blonde in front of Pierce. He didn’t offer the man a glass. “Should I put this on Schooner’s bill?”

  Smirking at the barb from Holly’s ex, he picked up the bottle and took a healthy swig as he slid off the bar stool. Reaching into the pocket of his shorts, he threw a ten on the bar. “You might want to remember what I drink.” Inferring Aiden would be seeing more of him. “Oh, and keep the change.”

  Game on, thought Pierce. Fight for her, man.

  Do you know where Aiden is?

  Holly pulled her buzzing phone out of her beach bag and read Billy’s text.

  No. The last time I saw him was over the weekend at Maguire’s. I haven’t seen him since.

  Did he mention anything to you about going away?

  No, but I didn’t really talk to him. With Pierce out here over the weekend, I only saw him the night we were at Maguire’s. And that was damn uncomfortable, she thought.

  We were both off today and were supposed to go golf at Bergen Point in West Babylon. We had plans to take the 10:10 ferry and he totally no-showed.

  Oh wow. That doesn’t sound like Aiden. Officially worried.

  And I just ran into Sheila and she told me that before he left work on Saturday night, he pulled himself off the schedule for the rest of the week and he’s not working this weekend either. I can’t imagine he’d give up his weekend shifts.

  Red flag. Holly knew from her years at Maguire’s that weekend tips were more than most people made a week in full-time jobs. People fought for those primo shifts.

  What about at Matthew’s? Maybe he picked up extra shifts there??? She was hoping there was some simple explanation. But blowing off a scheduled trek to the mainland for a round of golf was sticking in her craw as something was wrong.

  I checked over at Matthew’s, same thing there. Just pulled himself off the schedule with no explanation and didn’t even try to grab slots for Labor Day weekend. That’s weird shit.

  Over holiday weekends they would make a ridiculous amount of money and everyone fought for those shifts.

  That is weird. Did you call him?

  Yeah. No answer.

  Did he say anything about going away? Maybe he went to see his family??? She ventured another guess.

  He didn’t mention anything at all about going away. Can you give him a call or text him? He might answer a message from you.

  I don’t have his number. She confessed.

  631-485-3699

  Do you want me to try his parents too? (Not that they return my calls either)

  Yeah. I’ll go bang on his door. See if he’s around and I’ll let you know. Maybe I can see in through the window. I�
�ll let myself in if I have to.

  Between last time and the fear of finding something devastating, she was glad that Billy was going to be the one to check. Don’t even think that. She banished the thought from her mind.

  Ok. Let me know. And I’ll let you know if I get in touch with him, she promised.

  Laying her phone in her lap, Holly stared out at the ocean, trying to quell the fear that was beginning to choke her. Be okay, Aiden. Please be okay. She knew this was exactly what he didn’t want for her, the worry that layered on top of everything else. And this was a piece she hadn’t factored into the equation. I feel sick, she thought as she finally dialed his number. It rang a few times and went to voicemail.

  Leave a message or hang up? He’ll know it’s me anyway by my phone number.

  “Hey, Aiden, it’s me. Billy gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind. He’s a little worried about you. He thought you were meeting for golf and you didn’t show up and you’re not on the work schedule anywhere. So, umm, just let me or Billy know you’re okay. Okay? Umm, well, that’s it. I hope everything is alright.”

  She then texted the same number. Is everything okay? You were supposed to meet Billy for golf. We’re a little worried. Get in touch with one of us.

  Fifteen minutes later, her phone buzzed with a text. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her phone. It was from Billy.

  Looked in the windows. Didn’t go in. He’s not in there.

  Could you see into the bathroom or closet? She couldn’t believe she was typing such a thing.