The Scars I Bare

by J. L. Berg

  It was beyond erotic, and as I cried out my second orgasm, I knew that this was where I wanted to be.

  Wrapped in this man’s broken embrace forever.

  Deciding to maintain our no-clothes policy that I’d joked about earlier, we decided a night in would be best.

  “I could see about having something delivered,” he said as we headed downstairs, wrapped in blankets.

  I shook my head, taking a seat on the couch. “That would require clothes to answer the door.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Good point. Okay, let me go see what I can throw together. Lucky for you, I always keep a stockpile of ramen on hand.”

  “I love ramen!” I exclaimed, taking advantage of his comfortable furniture. I’d been so blind with lust, I hadn’t taken any real time to look around when I arrived.

  Now that I felt satiated, for at least the moment, I let my eyes do more than a quick once-over of Dean’s place.

  It was well kept with a very minimal approach. The furnishings appeared to be mostly secondhand but on the newer end. The gray couch I sat on was probably the most updated thing in the room with an older leather chair in the corner. Several family pictures were scattered on the walls as well as maps and photos of the area.

  I’d never given much thought to Dean the fisherman other than his outwardly appearance. But seeing him surrounded by the things he loved, I couldn’t help but wonder what he had once been like.

  Before.

  “So, about that ramen. Turns out, I’m a liar. Pretty sure I ran out a while ago,” he said, cozying up to me on the couch.

  I let out a laugh as I curled up next to him.

  “It’s fine. I’m actually not that hungry,” I said.

  His eyebrow rose as he looked at me. “That’s a lie.”

  “Okay, I’m starving. But I want to sit and talk for a while. Tell me about some of this stuff,” I said, motioning to his living room.

  “Like what?” he asked, our heads touching as we snuggled underneath the warm blankets.

  “Like…” I said, looking around, trying to pick just one.

  There were so many options. From the anchor in the corner that looked like it weighed more than a ton to the photos on the coffee table in front of me.

  “What about that?” I said, pointing to an old map, one of many lining the walls of his living room.

  A warm smile spread across his face. “That,” he said, “is a nautical map. An old one, too. My dad used to collect them—or so I was told.” He grabbed my hand, and using my index finger as a guide, he made a long trail in the air, following the landmass on the wall. “See Hatteras there?” he said, pointing to the very tip of the inlet. “And how it stops, and just over the sound is Ocracoke?”

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, his fingers lacing with mine. “You miss it, don’t you?” I asked. “The ocean? Fishing? You never really talk about it.”

  He grew silent as I stared up at that map, wondering how much of that water he’d touched in his lifetime. Would he ever again?

  “Yes,” he finally answered. “But I don’t know how to go back. I don’t know how to look out at the water and feel anything but anger. And fear. That night we were on the boat? It was the first time I’d even been close. The fact that it was anchored was the only reason I was able to go through with it.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder, still staring at that map, thinking of all the times I’d caught him looking out onto the sea with such longing in his eyes. He’d lost his trust out on that ocean when that ferryboat tried to take his life.

  We just had to find it once more.

  “What about that?” I said, deciding a change in subject might be good as I moved toward a stack of composition notebooks on the corner desk.

  “Ah”—he grinned—“if you’re looking for something to help you sleep—”

  I leaned in closer. “Wait a minute,” I said. “You had a notebook like that when you were in the hospital. You said it was for your recovery. Don’t tell me you’re still writing in them.”

  He smiled. “Almost every day.”

  I placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “You really are messed up.”

  He laughed. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

  I got up, taking one of the warm blankets with me. I felt his eyes on me as I walked across the room toward the desk. Reaching down, I lifted the first notebook off the stack. “Can I read them, or are they off-limits?”

  I felt his breath against my neck.

  I hadn’t even heard him move.

  “Nothing is off-limits to you, Cora,” he said. “But don’t start with this one.” He reached into a drawer and shuffled through it, pulling one from the back. “Here,” he said, but instead of giving it to me, he set it down on the desk. “But read it later.”

  “Why?” I asked, turning to look up at him.

  A quick grin pulled at his mouth. “Because I just remembered we have a serious debate to solve.”

  “What’s that?”

  He pulled off his blanket and wrapped it around me, not in the least bit shy about his nakedness. Walking boldly into the kitchen, he opened the freezer, making me all the more confused as he took out a pint of ice cream and held it out in front of him.

  “Ice cream,” he said, pulling the lid off with his teeth.

  I let out a laugh as he walked back over and handed it to me. He dug his finger in, using it as a giant makeshift scoop, and then looked down at me with challenge in his eyes.

  “Is it a finger food or not?” He held his finger out to me, vanilla already melting down his single digit as he waited for me to decide.

  What could a good girl do?

  I gave him a mischievous grin, stood on my tiptoes, and showed him just how good I could suck—ice cream, that was.

  “Seriously,” I said, taking a wide look around the room, the inn so full of people, I could barely take a full step in either direction, “who are all these people?”

  Dean chuckled, taking a sip of his beer, as tiny children dodged and weaved between us, streamers flying, balloons hitting us in the faces.

  It was extreme chaos.

  “Well, when you have a party around here, everyone assumes they’re invited. Kid party or not.” He motioned toward the patio where it was currently raining cats and dogs, the patio where I’d planned to have one kick ass bounce house with amazing grilled food and plenty of space for all these wild children to run. “It’s too bad it’s raining. Although we do need the rain.”

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re telling me. But at least the company in charge of sending the bounce house came through.”

  “Oh?” he asked.

  “Yeah, they said they were going to send someone over instead. An entertainer. Free of charge.”

  Dean nodded. “That’s nice of them. Do you know what kind?”

  I shrugged, trying to casually play it off. “I think something to do with science experiments.”

  I watched as he nearly spit out his beer, laughing.

  “Oh God, Lizzie’s going to crucify him. Did you warn them?”

  I tried to keep a straight face. “No. Why?”

  “Have you met your daughter? The one who, just last week, taught me all about kinetic energy, complete with a science experiment.”

  I bit my lip. “Okay, I see your point. I might want to warn him.”

  “No, don’t.” He smirked. “It will be hilarious.”

  Smacking him on the shoulder, I shook my head. “You’re horrible. Let’s go find her and see when she wants to cut the cake.”

  It took a while to locate her with Dean at my side. We were stopped by pretty much every person in the town, and if I hadn’t met them yet, I did now. Everyone thanked me for the party while I agonized over whether there was enough food to feed an entire town.

  Thankfully, we managed to run into Molly and Jake, coming through the kitchen, armed with food for just that—an entire town.

  “You guys, I could
just kiss you!” I exclaimed, immediately jumping forward to help them.

  “Well, not that I would mind,” Jake said, giving Dean a quick wink, “but this is all Molly. I’m just the muscle, carrying it in.”

  “It’s true,” she said. “I didn’t let him near any of it,” she explained, pulling out several platters of sandwiches. “But I thought you might need a hand. No one probably explained to you the party situation here in town.”

  I looked around, feeling a little less overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the inn. “No,” I said, “I had no idea. Thank goodness the inn is empty this weekend. What a fiasco it would have been if her birthday were next weekend!”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. A birthday and a wedding? That sounds like a ton of fun.”

  “That sounds like a ton of stress,” Jake interjected, laughing.

  “Oh, please, like you’ve done anything besides picking out your suit. But, I do have one guest arriving today. But it shouldn’t be any trouble.”

  I felt that anxiety beginning to rise again in my throat. “Are you sure? Because I could, I don’t know, try to shoo some of these people out of here. I know you’ve got a lot going on with the wedding coming up in a few days.”

  She laughed, making a face, as she grabbed one of the platters to carry into the parlor. “You’ll do no such thing. Let me do my job with the guest, and you do yours.”

  I looked at her while the guys made themselves useful and each grabbed a platter. “And what is mine exactly?”

  She just shook her head, pointing to the counter where the gorgeous cake rested. “Go be a mom,” she said.

  “Oh,” I said. “Right.”

  Grabbing the lighter and the cake, I took a deep breath and followed everyone into the parlor. Like the parting of the sea, I finally found Lizzie, laughing and acting like a regular five-year-old with a couple of friends from school. They chased each other around the parlor with a green balloon. Apparently, it was an alien, and when you got caught, you died.

  Pretty typical.

  When their eyes turned and saw the My Little Pony cake Molly had created in my hands though? Green-balloon alien was forgotten.

  It was cake time.

  They all started talking and yelling at once. The blonde girl with the glasses wanted the part with the pony head on it. The cute, shy boy wanted to sing Lizzie “Happy Birthday” first.

  I liked him.

  I set the cake down on a card table that Dean and I had set up the night before as everyone gathered around us. I realized in that moment that it didn’t matter that I might not know everyone in this room. They’d all taken time out of their day to come celebrate my daughter’s birthday.

  Because we were part of the community.

  Part of the family.

  I swallowed hard, and Dean’s warm hand slid around mine for comfort.

  “Okay, who wants to sing ‘Happy Birthday’?”

  Lizzie looked wide-eyed at her cake as I lit the candles, and everyone began singing. I tried to hold back the tears I felt creeping up. This was what I’d wanted when I stepped onto that ferry not too long ago.

  A new start.

  I don’t know how I’d managed it, but I’d found a good life here in Ocracoke.

  Dean’s arm crept around my shoulders as he whispered in my ear, “You’re not singing.”

  I could detect a hint of a smile in his words.

  “This is everything I’ve wanted for her,” I said.

  Cheers fell around us, and she blew out her candles.

  “It’s only the beginning,” he said.

  “Mommy! Can I have that piece?” Lizzie asked, pointing her finger to the direct center of the cake.

  “Of course you can,” I said, laughing.

  Dean and I stepped up to begin serving the masses.

  It was then that my eye caught his.

  It was then that my happy little world stopped.

  Standing in the doorway, still holding his designer suitcase, his eyes fixated on mine, was Blake.

  In my perfect new life, there was my worst nightmare.

  Shock quickly turned to anger as I marched through the sea of people, abandoning my post as official cake-cutter.

  “You can’t be here,” I seethed under my breath.

  He smiled a smile that, once, a long time ago, had done funny things to my insides. A smile that I’d loved to wake up beside.

  A smile I’d trusted.

  He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it out to me. “Ten texts, four phone calls, Cora. That’s how many times I’ve tried to reach you regarding our daughter’s birthday. Ten texts, four phone calls. All you had to do was reply to one of them. All I wanted was a chance to see her. So, you see, I can in fact be here. Because there’s not a judge around who wouldn’t allow me the right to see my daughter, whom, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten, I still have partial custody of.”

  I swallowed hard, my hands shaking, as I took a step backward. I looked around and saw people politely trying to act busy, avoiding our very public display.

  “Cora?”

  I turned to my left, and there was Dean. He stepped up to my side with a mixture of concern and something I’d never seen before.

  Raw, untapped anger.

  How did Dean even recognize Blake? They’d never met before. I didn’t have time to contemplate that before he turned to address my ex-husband, “What are you doing here?”

  Blake’s eyes darted from mine to Dean and back again, obviously making the connection. “Seems I had no choice. When my wife went missing and wouldn’t allow me visitations with our daughter, I had to do what any father would do—drop everything and go looking for her.”

  My teeth gritted together as my fingers curled at my side. “Ex-wife. You seem to have forgotten that part.”

  He shrugged, giving a cursory glance in Dean’s direction. “Clearly, you haven’t.”

  Something akin to sadness spread across his face. Something I hadn’t seen there in a long time.

  He held his chin high, his gaze fixated on Lizzie, who was still too focused on her pony cake and friends to notice her daddy standing in the entryway. “Look,” he said, letting out a puff of air, “I don’t want to make a scene. That’s not why I came.”

  Dean made a noise of disbelief next to me.

  “I just wanted to see her, Cora, and I’m sorry if that upsets you. I know things between us were—”

  “Bad?” Dean interjected, causing the two men to exchange glances.

  “But I still want to be a part of her life. And you can’t shut me out.”

  I let out a frustrated breath, my arms wrapped so tightly around my chest I thought I might leave visible marks from the viselike grip. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  “Cora, you don’t owe this man shit,” Dean nearly growled, his body so on edge beside me, I could feel him nearly vibrating.

  “I owed him the common decency of a reply,” I said. Turning my attention back to Blake, I said, “And, for that, I’m sorry. I should have texted or called. I know, no matter what happened between us, you will always be Lizzie’s father. I should never have tried to shut you out. It’s just been a big adjustment, and we’re not completely settled. It’s why we’re having her party at the inn; we still haven’t found a place to live.”

  “And school?” he asked, sincerity in his voice.

  I bit my upper lip, glancing from one man to the other. “It’s been a bit of a rough go,” I answered honestly, causing both of them to react accordingly.

  “What do you mean?” Blake asked.

  “Why didn’t you mention anything?” Dean echoed.

  My hands began moving along with my mouth. “It’s nothing,” I said. “Just a note and a meeting with the teacher. The school is worried they won’t be able to provide the level of academics required for a child of Lizzie’s level.”

  Blake was the first to talk, shaking his head like he’d seen this coming all along
. “I knew you shouldn’t have moved down to this Podunk shithole.”

  “Hey!” Dean fired back. “This Podunk shithole doesn’t need you to help us solve our problems, asshat. We’ll figure out something for Lizzie without you.”

  Blake laughed a sinister laugh I’d heard far too many times. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but I beat him to it.

  “Enough!” I said, probably too loud for our private conversation.

  The room quieted for a moment before picking back up.

  “This is neither the time nor the place. And I will not let us ruin Lizzie’s special day with our bickering. I’m sorry I didn’t call, Blake; I really am. And I’m sorry to both of you for not mentioning the problems with school sooner. I obviously was in denial. It’s something I’ll need to figure out.”

  “We’ll need to figure out,” Blake interjected.

  “So, until then, why don’t you all plaster big, happy smiles on your faces for Lizzie and act like adults, okay?”

  “Cora?” Dean said my name in a way that had me turning my head.

  My heart sank. There, holding a single piece of cake in her hands, was Lizzie, her face long and sad, the birthday glow long forgotten.

  “Why are you guys fighting on my birthday?”

  I turned back toward the two men, uncaring if it was their fault or mine, feeling the anxiety and pressure of the day weighing down on me, and I snapped.

  “Great job,” I said. “You’ve ruined it.”

  And then I stormed out of the room.

  What was I saying about acting like an adult?

  Recovery Journal: Day 1,195

  I saw her.

  Cora.

  I saw Cora. Here. In my town.

  Which is now somehow her town.

  She’s divorced. I don’t know why I’m writing that first. It shouldn’t be the first thing I write. I should be writing something like why she’s here, but I can’t stop thinking about that one little detail.

  She’s divorced.

  I still remember that day she turned me down.

  I don’t blame her really.

  Mentally unstable, newly single amputee asks you out before he’s even discharged from the hospital.

  Kind of weird, right?