by Skye Jordan
The censure in his tone bites. “I’m busy. I’m in the middle of this. It’s a big job.”
My mother is shaking her head in disapproval when she finally returns her attention to me. “Oh, Laiyla, this is so much worse than I expected.”
“That’s because Dad hired someone incapable of caring for the property, and it went to hell.” As usual, my barb doesn’t even stick to my father. “I’ve got a great plan for the place and the best contractor in the area working on it.”
“Pffft,” my mother scoffs. “You’re in the country, Laiyla. How good can the best contractor be?”
This. This is exactly why I didn’t want Levi to meet my parents. And I hope he can’t hear them now.
“You should let us help you with this,” my father says. “The best plan would be for you to sell it to us, like we’ve been saying. Let us take this off your hands. Then you can come back to LA.”
They just never give up. That perseverance benefitted them in their careers, but it doesn't work all that well as parents. “Look,” I say, “I’m sorry you came all this way, but it’s not a good time.”
“Ingrid is struggling with the property manager in Iceland,” my mother says, exposing her real reason for coming. First reason: convince me this job is beneath me and a waste of time. Second reason: pull me back into the company by trying to tell me they need me.
“I’m not surprised,” I tell her. “That guy is a royal asshole.”
“Laiyla.” My father chides me for my language.
“He is. I’ve been telling you that for a year, but you never listened.”
“Well, you found a way to work with him, and Ingrid will have to as well,” my father says. “She could use your coaching to get her through.”
“No one coached me through anything.” I feel built up resentment uncoiling. I’m happy for the first time in years, and I don’t want them ruining it. “You just threw me somewhere in the company and told me I had to sink or swim. Why aren’t you doing the same with Ingrid?”
My mother shades her brow from the sun. “Have you eaten, Laiyla? Your father and I are hungry. Let’s drive into Santa Barbara and find a decent place to eat. Then we can really talk.”
“I’m not going into Santa Barbara.” I keep my voice empty of the frustration rising inside me. Logic, not emotion. I need to remember that. “You two stop for breakfast on your way back home.”
My mother’s gaze returns to my face, scrutinizing intensely. I know the second her gaze lands on my hickey, and I feel my cheeks heat. I automatically reach for my braid and pull it forward.
“You said you have a contractor on this project?” she asks.
“Yes, and he’s excellent.”
“Then you can take a couple of weeks to return to LA and work with Ingrid. It will do you good. I also think it’s important for you to spend some time with Michael. This distance isn’t good for your relationship. A man like Michael isn’t going to wait around while your loyalty is misplaced.”
Oh. My. God. “For the last time, I’m not going back to LA. I’m doing this on my own. I don’t need your help or your approval. I love you guys, but I don’t want you here, and you don’t want to be here, so please go.”
I turn and start back to the boat. The clip of heels signals my mother following, and I stop and turn.
She closes the distance between us and levels her disapproving glare on me. “Are you seeing someone here?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I know you loved your time here when you were young. And I know you loved your grandfather, but what you had here was a small sliver of your life, Laiyla. The least important sliver in everything that makes up who you are. This is nothing but a temporary reprieve from the stress you’ve been under in LA. But that will end, and you’ll be bored to death. Then where will you be?”
I open my mouth to deny it, but she speaks first. “Whatever fling you’re having here isn’t worth ruining everything you have back home. Good Lord, Laiyla, look at where you are.” She lifts her hands and gestures to the marina, and seeing it through her eyes, I can see why she thinks it’s a dive. “You’re a grown woman. Start acting like one.”
She turns and walks off the dock before I can respond. I wait for their car to drive down the road to return to the houseboat.
20
Levi
By the time Laiyla walks in, I’ve got all kinds of emotions raging inside me—anger, disappointment, hurt, fear.
She comes into the boat already saying, “I’m so sorry. They’re truly intolerable sometimes. And it gets worse when they’re stressed—” She meets my gaze and her words cut out. “Shit, I was hoping you didn’t hear most of that, but by the look on your face—”
“Who’s Michael?” I demand more than ask. The idea of someone else loving Laiyla hurts like hell and makes me question everything—her attraction to me, her commitment to us, everything she’s said to date, whether or not we should even be together. “You’re seeing someone back in LA?”
“No.” She shakes her head emphatically. “No, it’s not like that. Michael is the son of someone who works with my parents. They set us up because our parents were pushing us toward relationships. We tried it for a while, but it didn’t work out. Now we just meet up as friends to keep our parents off our backs.”
“Then why didn’t you introduce me to them?”
“If you heard anything, they said—”
“I heard everything. You had the opportunity to tell them about me, and you didn’t.”
She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.
“Because I don’t live up to their expectations,” I answer for her.
“No one lives up to their expectations, including their own daughter. This is a perfect example of why I’m struggling with our relationship. They want what they want the way they want it, and they push and manipulate until they get it. At the heart of it, I believe they want what’s best for me. The problem is that they think their choices are better than mine.”
“You had the opportunity to prove them wrong. I could have met them. I could have taken them to the development, showed them what I’m building. I could have made them believe your decision to stay here, stay with me, is the right one.”
She’s shaking her head. “No, you don’t understand them—”
“And you didn’t give me the opportunity to understand them or for them to understand me.” I’m sliding off the rails. My insecurities are rising to the surface. Memories of losing her haunt me like shadows. “I don’t know what to think about any of this. I don’t give a shit about this other guy. What I care about is the lying. You’re either lying to your parents or you’re lying to me.”
Her expression shutters.
Bull’s-eye.
I turn my back and pace, trying to silence my fears, trying to get my self-protection to back the hell off. But something her mother said rang too true for me. That her life here was the least important sliver in everything that makes Laiyla who she is. I can’t fucking argue with that.
“You left me once before because they didn’t approve,” I say. “How do I know you won’t do the same thing again?”
“Levi, I was a kid.”
“And now? How can I believe you’re going to stick this out if you won’t even introduce me to them? Your mother’s right. Your life here was barely a blip on the radar of your life. If there’s nothing holding you here, what’s to keep you from going back to LA when life in the country gets boring?”
I need her to find the words to convince me. I ache for them. I love you. I’m right where I want to be. I’m all in with you. Any of those would work, but she doesn’t choose any of them. In fact, she doesn’t choose any at all, and that’s a choice in itself. One I can’t live with.
All I can think about is the way she left me before. All the years I wasted because I couldn’t let go. This time, I’m not letting her drag me along until she walks away. This time, I have to let go first.
I start toward the door, and she steps into my path, hands on my arms. “Levi, wait. This is all twisted around.”
I stop and meet her eyes, but all I see is indecision, and she doesn’t say anything to make be believe otherwise. “I’ll trade with Mitch. I don’t want to have to see you every day.”
21
Laiyla
I stand outside the doors to Aiden’s pub and draw a shaky breath. It’s six p.m., and the restaurant and bar are packed.
“You’ve got this,” KT says from my right.
“It’s all going to work out,” Chloe says from my left. “I’ve been discussing it with angels and the universe all day.”
I want to laugh, but I can’t. My stomach burns and my heart aches. I’m already not well loved around here, and this could very well seal my fate in the eyes of the townspeople. But I need to do it, for both Levi and myself. And I need to do it today, now. I’m not letting his beliefs linger. I’m not giving myself a chance to fuck this up again.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to come in with you?” KT asks.
I nod. “I’m sure. I have to do this on my own. He needs me to do this on my own. But thank you.”
The girls wrap me in dual hugs, I take one more breath, then hoist my packages, one in each hand, and use my elbow to push through the door. I turn toward the back of the restaurant, and spot Levi and Mitch in a booth. Levi’s back is to me, which gives me another second to cement my plan in my mind before I force my feet to move.
I spot Tina behind the bar. I have no doubt that she’ll have to stick her nose into this, but I’ll deal with her later.
I stop beside their booth, facing them both. Levi looks up, and I see all the heartache written on his face. It’s hard to believe he’s the same man I created bliss with last night.
“I have some business to discuss.” I say it in a way that draws attention.
Levi glances around as other conversations come to a stop and gazes veer toward his table. “Laiyla, let’s talk outside.”
He slides to the end of the booth, but I block him and place my packages on the floor. “No. I need to do it here.”
I ignore the look on his face. One that threatens anger and exposes the hurt I’ve caused him. I pull out my phone and dial my parents, put the phone on speaker, and lay it on the table.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Hi, sweetheart,” my dad answers. “We just got home. Had a beautiful day in Santa Barbara. I wish you would have come.” Then he yells, “Honey, it’s Laiyla.”
“Well,” my mother says on the other end of the line. “You held out for a whole day. Are you ready for us to take over so you can come home?”
I stare at Levi when I speak. “That’s not why I’m calling. I’m calling to tell you that I’m not coming back. My life is here now. I put my apartment on the market.”
“Laiyla, for God’s sake—” my father says.
“I’m not done.” I make sure my tone is clearly commanding. “I’ve spent the first thirty years of my life doing what you’ve asked and trying to make you proud. Mom told me today that I need to start acting like an adult, so this is me acting as an adult. I’m not coming back, because I love it here. I’ve always loved it here. My time here may have only been a sliver of my life overall, but it was the most important time, not the least.”
By now, everyone in the restaurant has stopped talking, and they’re staring at us. The anger and hurt in Levi’s eyes fades, and that gives me the strength to go on.
“And I’ve reconnected with someone special. Someone who I’ve loved for over a decade. Someone I still love with all my heart. His name is Levi Asher, and he’s the contractor I’ve hired to work on the marina. He’s one of the most amazing men I’ve ever met, and I want to be with him. Here.”
Levi reaches out and takes my hand.
“Laiyla.” My mother’s tone is punitive. “You are—”
“No, Mom. You’re not going to talk to me like that anymore. I deserve better. I love you both, but you are no longer controlling or influencing my decisions. When you can accept my decision, we can talk again, but not until then. Goodbye.”
When I disconnect the call, I’m shaking. An eruption of applause from the other customers startles me. Levi tries to stand, but I push on his shoulder to keep him in place. “I’m not done.”
I dial another number, and Michael answers with the easy good nature I’ve become so fond of. “Girl,” he says, “I was just going to call you. My cousin is getting married, and I need a date for the wedding so my parents stay off my back. Help a friend out?”
“I’m sorry, Michael, I can’t be your stand-in anymore. I’m staying in Wildfire. I’m not coming back to LA.”
“What?” Then he says, “Oh, it’s that guy, isn’t it? The one you told me about.”
“It is.”
“Well, hot damn. You go, girl.”
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything.”
“I need you to explain our relationship, like you’re telling someone who doesn’t know us.”
“We’re friends. Good friends.”
“Has it ever been more?”
“We dated a few times in the beginning, but that’s it.”
“Would it ever be more?”
He chuckles. “If it were, we would have figured that out by now.”
I let out a breath. “Thank you, Michael.”
“Anytime. Can I come up and see this trashy marina? I guess I should meet your guy too. Anyone who could inspire you to cut the cord with your parents is a winner in my book.”
I laugh, and I’m surprised when tears slide from my eyes. “Yes, you have an open invitation.”
“Till then,” Michael says. “Love you.”
“Love you.”
I disconnect and let out a deep breath. “Almost done.”
I scan the crowd and spot Tina. I reach into the bag and pull out two six-packs of Firestone Walkers’ latest IPA. I had to drive to Santa Barbara today to get it. I’ve paperclipped a twenty-dollar bill to the handle of each carrier and now shove the bottles toward Tina in a way that makes her take them.
“You lose,” I tell her. “I’m staying, and Levi is mine. So, back the fuck off.”
Laughter and hoots move through the customers.
I reach into the other bag and pull out the same configuration of beer and money and set them on the table. “You also lose. I’m staying.”
His smile grows until he’s beaming. “I’d call that a win.”
He pushes to his feet and wraps me in a bear hug. When he pulls back and kisses me, the pub erupts in applause and whistles.
I look into his eyes. “I love you. So much.”
He frames my face with his hands. “I overreacted,” he says. “I just, I can’t lose you again.”
I smile through my tears. “You won’t.”
He wipes at the tears on my face with his thumbs. “What do you say we take this beer back to the Roxie Blue and celebrate?”
I kiss him again, and all the pain and fear drains from my soul. “I think that sounds perfect.”
Epilogue
Laiyla
Six months later
I step onto the dock from the Roxie Blue, my hands filled with bags holding presents for Levi’s family. Winter is a little colder here than LA, but I still only need a light jacket to stay warm.
KT, Chloe, and I plan to celebrate Christmas together tomorrow, and they’ve planned a trip into Santa Barbara tonight for dinner and a drive around to look at Christmas lights. The three of us strung thousands of lights around the marina, on the buildings, the boats, even the construction equipment, and they light up the night and reflect off the lake now as I walk toward the parking lot.
My parents haven’t fully accepted my decision to stay in Wildfire, but they’re trying, which is better than I’d hoped for, and with the silence and serenity surrounding me, I’m calmer and more complete than I’ve
ever been. I still shake my head when I realize how long it took me to figure out where I belong.
I hear a clank from the other dock, then KT’s “Ow. Goddammit. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What are you doing?” I hurry down my dock, leave the gifts at the edge of the parking lot, and veer toward KT. It’s nearly six p.m., and she and Chloe should be headed to Santa Barbara by now.
“Shit, shit, shit.” KT’s voice is edged with pain, and I push my feet into a jog toward the Cecelia Ann, not easily done on a dock in heels.
I find her on the deck of her houseboat, the engine hatch open, her arm deep in the compartment. She’s attached a spotlight to a deck chair, so it shines into the space below deck. It also illuminates the pain on her face.
“I keep hearing a knock every time I turn on the heat,” she tells me, “and it’s driving me crazy.”
Chloe comes up beside me, silent on bare feet, and she crouches to look into the compartment. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m not exactly surprised.”
“What can we do?” I ask her.
She points with her free hand. “Hold that lever up and out of the way, please.”
I reach in and do as she asks, and she frees her arm, but when she pulls it out, a long cut on her forearm is gushing blood.
“Oh, Jesus,” I say, dragging my phone from my pocket. “I’ll call 9-1-1.”
“Stop,” KT says, “don’t be ridiculous.”
Chloe’s inspecting KT’s arm. “You need stitches.”
“Fucking perfect. Just what I want to do on Christmas Eve.”
Headlights wash over us from the parking lot. “That’s Levi. Come on.” I stand and help KT to her feet. “We’ll take you.”
“I’ll finish getting dressed,” Chloe says, “and meet you there.”
“Grab one of those clean rags for me,” KT tells me, holding her arm out in front of her, dripping blood on the deck. She flicks a look at me. “Stop looking, or you’ll puke.”
