The Scars I Bare

by J. L. Berg

  “Gray, huh?” His interest seemed piqued.

  “Yeah. Luckily, it wasn’t one of those monstrous things with raised wheels, but it was fairly substantial.”

  “Hmm. And did this fairly substantial gray truck have a trailer hitch on the—”

  “Sorry I’m late!” Dean’s voice announced as he burst through the back door. He was carrying two large travel mugs in the crook of his right arm, using the other to navigate. “I had to double back home for the coffee I’d left on my countertop. Pretty sure I nearly took out a tourist on my way, too.”

  My eyes widened as he blew out a heavy breath, placing the coffees on the countertop, only to look up and meet my piercing death stare. When he noticed the freshly brewed coffee already in my hand and the less-than-enthused expression on my face, his mood dropped a notch.

  “Oh, I see you guys already have coffee.”

  Jake was casually enjoying the coffee his fiancée had made, with an ease about him that said he didn’t have a care in the world. “Yep.” He grinned. “Molly made it. Coffee and pastries, remember?”

  The two old friends locked eyes and seemed to have an entire conversation without saying a word. Eyebrows raised, foreheads wrinkled.

  In the end, I couldn’t tell what had been said or who had won, if there was indeed a winner or a loser. But, whatever had happened, I was left with one grumpy amputee fisherman while my boss sauntered down the hallway toward his office, chuckling under his breath.

  I stared at the two travel mugs, wondering why he was here and why he hadn’t brought three cups. Did he just bring enough for himself and Jake? Letting that thought go as quickly as it’d come, I finished off my cup and pastry, intent on getting on with my day, free from the distraction of Dean.

  But I couldn’t.

  Not before…

  “It wasn’t a tourist,” I said, my arms folded sternly across my chest. I caught him mid-bite, a homemade bear claw shoved in his mouth.

  I didn’t even know you could make those things from scratch. I mean, I guessed, when I actually thought about it, sure, everything could be made from scratch. But bear claws? Who took the time to make those?

  Obviously, Molly did. No wonder everyone on the island wanted to marry her. Had I known all those years ago when she was visiting Dean in the hospital that she made such a killer bear claw? Well, I might have developed a bit of a girl crush too.

  Hell, I still might.

  “What?” Dean replied, clearly enjoying the homemade goods from his ex.

  “The tourist you nearly took out this morning when you did a one-eighty in the road to retrieve your coffees? It wasn’t a tourist. It was me.”

  He eyed the coffees on the counter, and then his gaze traveled up to me, his mouth still chewing the last bit of dough from his bear claw. I watched his jaw work over and over, the rugged definition of it making me blush.

  Who knew watching someone eat could be sexy?

  “Wouldn’t want to waste it then,” he replied, sliding the travel mug in my direction. “I wasn’t sure how you took it, so it’s black. Jake has all the fixin’s,” he began to explain before he followed up with, “but you already know that.”

  I pressed my lips together, feeling awkward in his presence once more. He had brought the extra coffee for me. I didn’t know why, but knowing that made me feel nervous and a whole host of other emotions.

  Excited.

  Anxious.

  Elated.

  Terrified.

  “I’d better get to work,” I said, unsure of what else to say.

  No, that was a lie. I knew what to say.

  Thank you.

  But the words wouldn’t come out because, as I stared at that coffee, I became increasingly aware of everything it could mean.

  All those emotions I felt.

  All those terrifying, wonderful emotions.

  With every cup of coffee he brought, every smile and conversation we might have, these feelings I had for him, they’d only multiply.

  Boundaries would be breached. Secrets would be spilled, and—

  “Have a nice day, Dean,” I said, leaving the coffee behind on the counter, where it belonged.

  It had been a crazy day at the clinic.

  But I’d come to quickly realize, every day at the clinic was a crazy day.

  So far, I’d seen several locals and a few tourists, and I’d even bandaged up a local chef after a snafu with a knife.

  Feeling a bit out of breath, I took a peek into the waiting room, grateful for its current empty state. Although the chairs out there were old and in need of a serious upgrade, they were calling my name, begging me to take a break after being on my feet all morning.

  Thank God for the blessed lunch break.

  Jake purposely blocked off an hour in the middle of the day to allow us to catch up. He’d explained to me that we’d sometimes end up working right through it depending on the day. Other times, if we were lucky and patients had arrived and left on time, we’d get a few minutes of peace to collect our thoughts, rest our feet, and even get to eat.

  Right now, all I wanted to do was put my feet up and close my eyes.

  And so, I did. The moment my feet left the floor felt like heaven. I nearly moaned as my body curled into a chair. Old and clumsy as it was, it could have been a freaking bed of clouds for as happy as I felt to be off my toes.

  “I’m sorry about this morning.” Dean’s voice filled the silent room.

  I cracked open an eyelid, finding him behind the counter, several files in his hands. He clearly didn’t understand the lunchtime rules of rest. Did this man ever relax?

  “Pardon?” I asked, his piercing stare already making my heart flutter.

  I tried not to think about how often that happened.

  “The thing on the road. I should have been more careful.” He paused, setting the files down on the counter as he gathered his thoughts.

  I took that moment to sit up in my chair, pulling my knees to my chest.

  “I used to be able to drive without thinking, you know? Like, out on Highway 12, late at night, we’d all go off-roading on the dunes. It’s funny because, back then, I never thought about it—driving with one arm on the wheel.”

  He looked straight ahead, deep in his memories, before he continued, “Anyway, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t expect anyone else to be on the road. It was stupid of me.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked, realizing I’d been so flustered by his arrival this morning, I hadn’t even bothered to ask why he was here in the first place. I’d just assumed he was bringing coffee.

  But he was still here.

  He held up a file. “Helping out Jake,” he explained. “He said you guys were being taken over by files and needed a hand.”

  “Oh,” I replied lamely. “I guess that’s part of my job.”

  He saw the tip of my toes hit the floor, and he motioned me to stay. “Nope.” He pointed to my foot. “You sit. This is currently my job. Not yours. So, stay.” He continued with his filing. We both smiled, mine was a tentative one but a smile all the same. Dean settled into a rhythm of stacking or alphabetizing or whatever the hell he was doing while I relaxed and enjoyed the view.

  I could do that, couldn’t I?

  There was nothing wrong with admiring Dean Sutherland. It was like window-shopping. Browsing without purchasing.

  At least, that was the lie I was going to tell myself.

  “Hey, guys. I’m going to go have a quick lunch with Molly, and I wanted to know if you—” Jake’s voice boomed through the small clinic before he pushed his way into the waiting room. His eyes darted between me and Dean as I quickly sat up straighter and Dean gave him a look that said something.

  What, I had no idea.

  “I wanted to know if you needed anything. Yeah, um, want me to bring anything back? Because I could use someone to stay here. You know, keep the place open just in case of an emergency or something.”

  His words mad
e sense, but I wasn’t convinced he thought they did. He looked to Dean for confirmation, and I could see Dean’s approving nod.

  Somehow, I felt like I was suddenly being set up by these two men.

  “Sure,” I replied, “but maybe Dean would like to go with you.”

  Dean’s look of surprise made me grin as he obviously tried to think of a reason he couldn’t go.

  “Can’t.” He grinned back. “Swamped.” He motioned to the stacks of files spread all around him. “Not even sure I could get out if I wanted.”

  I gave him a blank stare as Jake watched our exchange with rapt interest.

  “Oh, I’m sure you can. Here, let me take over for you. You guys go grab some lunch. You know Dean hasn’t taken a break all day?”

  “I didn’t know that,” Jake replied, with a sly grin.

  Dean knew I was calling his bluff and the shock of it was written all over his face. I leaped out of my seat and zipped around to the other side of the counter faster than he could come up with another excuse.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy the view or the conversation.

  It was that I did.

  A little too much.

  So, I did the only thing I could. I made a path for the man with the sinful stare and the soulful eyes that held too much promise, and I watched him walk away. And, the moment the door shut and I was free of him, I let my head collapse into my hands as I wondered how the hell I was going to survive the rest of the day with him around. Let alone a lifetime.

  “So, what’ll it be?” I asked Lizzie as we settled in for dinner at her new favorite spot, a local restaurant that had stunning views of the bay from its outdoor patio. Plus they had the fish fingers Dean had introduced her to. That was a big bonus.

  I couldn’t blame her. With its exceptional food, friendly staff, and casual atmosphere, it was quickly becoming a favorite of mine as well. Plus, it gave me an excuse to avoid the kitchen at the inn. Although Molly had given me free rein over it during the evenings she wasn’t there, constantly reminding me to treat the place as a home rather than an inn, I just couldn’t do it.

  The constant flux of guests going in and out was a daily reminder that we were indeed not at home, no matter how homey it felt. I knew Molly meant well, and she was a saint for allowing us to stay there for basically nothing while I figured things out, but I needed to do so quickly.

  Until I found a place for Lizzie and me, Ocracoke would continue to feel temporary and foreign. But something was holding me back from picking up the paper or looking online for vacancies. It wasn’t that hard. More than half of Ocracoke was rentals. I just needed to find an owner who was willing to rent for an extended period of time, and now that the summer season was coming to a close, it was an ideal time.

  So, what was I waiting for? Why was I stalling?

  “Fish! With my fingers!” Lizzie announced.

  “What?” I asked, clearly zoned out.

  “You asked me what I wanted for dinner. I want fish!”

  Remembering I had indeed asked her what she wanted, I nodded, deciding to go for the same. Billy, the owner, came by and greeted us like locals, a feeling that warmed my soul. I ordered our usual and leaned back in the patio chair, allowing the sun to warm me up for a few precious moments.

  I was given exactly three seconds before my phone began to vibrate in my purse.

  “Mommy! Your phone is ringing!”

  “I know,” I answered, hoping I could just ignore it.

  “Mommy! It’s Pappy!”

  My eyes flew open. Lizzie had my phone in her hand.

  “I’ll answer it!” she announced excitedly.

  “No!” I nearly screamed.

  She looked alarmed.

  I dialed it back a notch. “I mean, I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll answer it. You wait for our food. I need to talk to Pappy about your birthday, so I’m just gonna sneak over here,” I explained, pointing to the entrance of the patio, “and talk to Pappy about all the super-secret birthday stuff I can’t say in front of you. Okay?”

  She nodded, her chin nearly touching her chest as she bounced in her chair.

  “Okay,” I said once again, mostly for my own reassurance.

  I snuck off toward the bar, which also happened to be where the patio entrance and exit was. It was early evening, so the crowd was still light. It was as good a place as any, and at least I could still see Lizzie from this spot.

  “Hi, Daddy,” I said the moment after I answered the call and brought the phone to my ear.

  “Well, there’s my girl. It rang so much, I thought it might go to voice mail again!”

  I did my best impression of a laugh. “No,” I said. “Just had to wrestle it out of Lizzie’s hands.”

  He laughed. A real one. Not the fake shit I was putting out there.

  “How is my baby girl? She’s turning six soon, you know.”

  I let out a breath, looking up at the sky as I tried hold in the emotions. “I know,” I said. “Hard to believe, huh?”

  “It is,” he said. “Especially since I haven’t seen her since she was two.”

  He tried to play it off as no big deal, but I knew him. I knew my father, and this was a big damn deal.

  “Any chance we might be able to see her? And you and Blake? Maybe for her birthday? Or possibly Thanksgiving? We could even fly out there for Christmas. We don’t mind staying in a hotel if the house isn’t done. And, hey, think of all the movies we could catch up on. Don’t tell me you went to go see the new Thor movie without your old man.”

  I swallowed deeply, tears stinging my eyes.

  “Of course I didn’t,” I managed to say. “But I don’t know. I’ll have to check with Blake. The house is still in shambles. Nothing is done. Our contractors quit. Can you believe that?” My lips were quivering as I spoke.

  There was nothing but silence on the other end. He’d probably already expected this. It had been nothing but the same answer for years now.

  God, I was such a joke.

  “But maybe…” I said. “Blake has a business trip over Thanksgiving, so maybe we could come your way. Just Lizzie and me.”

  I had no idea what I was doing. Maybe it was the pain of hearing his voice. Maybe I just missed my dad too much, but I couldn’t stop the words once they started.

  “Oh, really? That would be lovely, sweetheart.”

  “I’d better go, Daddy. I love you,” I said, my voice cracking as a dam broke, and my emotions spilled over. I didn’t wait for him to answer. I couldn’t. I hung up as the tears began to fall.

  One more second on that phone, and he would have heard everything.

  The pain, the loss, the suffering.

  And then he would have known what a liar his daughter had become.

  Recovery Journal: Day Nine

  Today wasn’t such a bad day.

  Molly came by to visit.

  It was good to see her and to apologize for ending things between us the way I had.

  But I know it was for the best. She and Jake were meant for each other, and I know they’ll figure it out. Eventually.

  I also got the chance to tell her about Cora.

  Cora is the reason for all of my recent good days.

  She makes this hellhole bearable.

  She’s more than a nurse to me; she’s a salve for my pain, a cure for my loneliness, and the light when the world feels bleak.

  I know it’s the worst timing.

  I know I sound crazy.

  But could it be…could she be the answer to my prayers?

  I knew the moment I turned the corner onto the patio area of Billy’s restaurant that I shouldn’t listen in on that phone call.

  Cora had all the telltale signs of someone who was in the midst of a private conversation.

  Head lowered, voice hushed, red splotchy eyes.

  I shouldn’t listen.

  But I did.

  And what I heard told me everything and nothing, all at the same time.

 
Why is she lying to her father? Why is she crying over it? And what am I going to do about it?

  Wait, what?

  Before I had a moment to contemplate that last part, my feet, as if they had a mind of their own, were on the move, stepping forward, making my presence known, like I was some sort of knight in shining armor.

  Cora looked up at me, her mascara running down her tearstained cheeks, as she hastily tried to brush the moisture away with the back of her hand. Her gaze darted to Lizzie, who was busy with a bucket of crayons and several paper menus.

  Before Cora could rush away, I opened my mouth, and words came out.

  Words I had no right asking.

  “Why were you lying to your father?”

  He eyes went wide, and it was all there. Fear, anger, pain, regret. Her lips quivered from the weight of it, and it took every ounce of strength in my broken body not to reach out and pull her into my chest.

  But I wouldn’t touch her. Not without her consent.

  I didn’t know what had happened to Cora in her life since I’d been her patient, but I recognized wounds and battle scars, and the woman who stood in front of me was bathed in them.

  “Because I’m a fraud and a coward, and it’s easier if he doesn’t know.”

  My forehead furrowed in confusion as she began to turn away.

  “Doesn’t know what?” I asked.

  She looked back, a sad, nearly blank expression splashed across her otherwise animated face. “Everything.”

  She meant to leave it at that and simply walk away, and I was going to let her.

  After all, I had interrupted her private moment. I had stolen her secret and pushed for information that wasn’t mine to know.

  But then Lizzie caught sight of me standing by the bar, waiting for my to-go order, and if there was one thing I’d learned about this tiny genius in pigtails, it was that, when she put her mind to something, she always got her way.

  “Dean!” she hollered, her high-pitched voice carrying over every other noise in the bay. “Dean! I ordered fish! Fish Fingers!” she said proudly, holding up her fingers to demonstrate.

  I simultaneously held up my thumbs as Cora took her seat once more next to her daughter. She’d done a decent job of cleaning up the tears, but anyone with a good eye could see she was still visibly shaken. One proper gaze in her mother’s direction, and Lizzie would notice, too.