by RC Boldt
“I don’t think things are finalized yet, Laney. Not judging from this.” She’d held up the globe with a meaningful look.
“It’s a water globe with dolphins, Tate. Not a declaration of love,” she had argued.
Tate had exchanged a look with Raine who had merely offered a helpless shrug. She hadn’t thought anything of it until now, hadn’t noticed the engraved message. Now, it made sense because, clearly her two friends had noticed the bottom of the globe, its message and the importance of it.
With shaking hands, she carefully set the globe back down and realized what she needed to do. Opening the second drawer of her dresser, she reached toward the back, beneath the clothing until her fingertips touched the folded, worn envelope. Pulling it out, she brought it with her as she sat cross-legged on her bed. Removing the paper from the envelope, she noted how worn and crinkled it was now. How many times had she pulled this paper out to remind her to keep her heart contained, to maintain the defenses, the walls around her heart?
Unfolding the paper, reading what she had written so many years ago, she felt something more akin to regret at how she had allowed herself to be swayed, convinced that loving someone was wrong, dangerous. Yes, maybe it was dangerous in that it would hurt if the other person didn’t return her love, but going through life not experiencing it fully posed even more of a danger.
Her lips pressed thin, as she read what she had written long ago. She was taken aback by how much things had changed—how much she had changed—since initially deciding to write the list.
Don’t ever get married because the husband will leave. Like Dad did.
Never fall in love. You’ll only get hurt in the end.
Right then, as she held that old, battered list in her hands, she made her decision. She wasn’t going to add another item to her list of regrets. She already had one remaining regret: losing—pushing away—the man she loved. She was going to let him know how she felt even though it was too late for them, too late for him to change his mind. Laney was going to tell him so she would never have the regret of not doing so.
Folding up the paper, she tore it into small sections and placed it in the trash bin beside her bed. It was time to start living her life and not letting the past rule it. Sliding off the bed, she decided that this occasion called for her to embrace the change, to start off this day the way it should be. She was going to join Mother Nature on this beautiful morning and bask in the opportunity to make changes in her life.
She was going surfing.
* * *
He hadn’t slept very well, had merely laid there in his bed for a while as he watched the start of the sunrise break through the blinds when it hit him. He only had one more Sunday here in this house before he moved out.
He hadn’t yet found a place he was completely sold on, so Mr. Ainsworth had offered up what he’d said was “a small, efficiency apartment-like space” over his garage. Considering the man and his wife lived in a home that was no smaller than four thousand square feet, Zach knew that the space above the garage was most likely nothing close to what the average person considered small.
He had been grateful, just the same, and had thanked the older man profusely, insisting on paying rent. When Mr. Ainsworth had mumbled a “we’ll see”, Zach knew he was going to have to force the man to take his money. But, knowing he wouldn’t be homeless was a huge weight off his shoulders at this point.
Zach rose from his bed, slid on his board shorts, and walked into the living room to slide into his flip flops, tossing a beach towel around his neck. He walked down the stairs of the beach house and unlocked the door to the small storage area where his surfboards were kept. He still hadn’t collected the one from Laney he’d loaned her back when he had been giving her surf lessons. At this point, he didn’t want it back because he knew he’d never want to use it, let alone have any desire to look at a reminder of her.
Walking across the street to the beach access, he trudged through the sand before he found the spot he preferred. He set down his towel and toed off his flip flops, tucking his keys inside one of the folds of the towel. Gazing out at the sunrise, he inhaled the scent of the salty ocean breeze, closing his eyes, letting the peacefulness wash over him. This was his safe haven of sorts. Being here on this deserted beach early on a Sunday morning, basking in the beauty of the scene before him, the reddish-orange hues in the sky contrasting with the blue water. Even the seagulls seemed to be half-asleep, their noise subdued.
Strapping the ‘leash’ to his ankle, he held his board at his side as he surveyed the waves, beginning to gain momentum. He waded into the water, set the board on the surface, and laid atop it, beginning to paddle out. As he made his way farther out, watching and waiting for the right wave, he finally felt a little bit of peace.
That was when he knew. He was going to be all right. He would eventually be happy again. Maybe not today or even tomorrow, but it was going to happen. He would eventually be able to put this behind him.
As he caught the wave and rode it to shore, he swore he saw another surfer off in the distance walking down the beach toward him. It would actually be kind of nice to have another person to surf with since he hadn’t had a surf buddy since … well, since Laney.
Zach stopped, ankle deep in the water, watching as the person suddenly turned around, flashing the flat side of the board, and began walking in the opposite direction. He’d almost dismissed it as he turned to head back out into the water, but something made him look again.
That was the moment he realized that he’d recognized that surfboard, recognized its colors. Because he had been the one who had chosen the unique colorful design for the board. Which meant he also knew who was currently walking down the beach, away from him, with that surfboard in tow.
Laney Kavanaugh.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
DURING THE LAST WEEK OF school, everyone had been bogged down with organizing students’ cumulative folders and portfolios, proofing grade reports so that report card grades for the entire year could be averaged and finalized. They all felt like they were in the weeds, trying to manage the students’ antsy excitement at the school year being over while maintaining routines and discipline.
Even amidst the heavy, overwhelming workload, Laney had noticed students bringing packing boxes into Zach’s classroom to help him pack up his materials. That was like a knife twisting even deeper in her chest, signifying that things were over, that he was determined to leave her behind, to leave her to become just a vacant memory.
It was the final day of school for students and an early dismissal day, as well. Teachers, of course, were required to stay in order to finish their appointed tasks. Laney waited for the students to be dismissed, for things to quiet down, before she prepared herself to enter Zach’s classroom. She prayed that he would be alone. Prayed that he would at least hear her out. Because at this point, she felt she had to do this. She had to make amends in some way, get resolution. Regardless of whether he decided to forgive her for hurting him or whether he ever found it possible to be her friend at some point in the future.
Taking a few deep, calming breaths, she grabbed her things and walked out of her room and across the hall. Peeking in the small window of his classroom door, she didn’t see anyone else inside except for Zach, who was currently putting together a moving box, applying some packaging tape to secure it before he would begin to fill it with items.
This is it. You can do this, Laney. You can do this.
Opening the door abruptly before she lost her nerve, she entered the room, letting the door fall closed behind her. She leaned back against it for a split second as she braced herself for the worst, for him to yell at her, kick her out.
Instead, she watched as his surprised gaze flew to hers, instantly growing wary. Holding up her free hand, she spoke hurriedly. “I know I’m the ultimate last person you want to see, especially right now, but I have a few things to say. I promise I’ll make it as quick as possible so that you can
get back to all that.” She gestured to the piles of flat, broken down boxes on the floor nearby where he stood.
Laney quickly slid in the caseless CD she’d brought with her into the CD player of the small stereo Zach kept on the back counter. Once it was set to the chosen song, she pressed the play button and lowered the volume slightly. She took a step closer to the center of the room, still more than a few yards away from where Zach was standing. When he visibly stiffened, it hurt her that her mere presence, her proximity made him uncomfortable and uneasy. Pulling the eighteen-by-eighteen inch posterboards from beneath her arm, she took a deep breath before displaying the first one for him to read, flipping to the next posterboard as soon as it appeared he had finished reading.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl and little boy who had a mom and a dad. Then, one day, the dad decided he didn’t want to have a family anymore. So he left. Even though the little girl begged and pleaded for him not to go.
The mom cried a lot, mainly at night when she thought the boy and girl were asleep and couldn’t hear her.
Seeing the mom so sad made the girl decide that she was never going to fall in love, would never get married, never let anyone get close enough to hurt her, to leave her. Because she was convinced that would always happen.
She was determined to be the one who did the leaving, the one who didn’t get attached. So when this little girl grew up, she continued to follow those same rules, never getting attached, never experiencing love.
Zach appeared to be reading her posterboards, though she noted he still watched with his cool, gray gaze still shuttered.
But then one guy came around. And he was annoying and got under her skin constantly. She thought she disliked him—hated him, even.
Until one day, he showed her a different side of him. And she realized he was this really amazing guy. A guy she could, maybe, see herself with, see herself loving.
A guy she could totally bone all the time because boning is so hot!
Laney noticed Zach’s confusion, and when she bent her head to look at the card she was holding, she gave a tiny laugh.
“Damn, Lawson. Ignore that one,” she said with a tight smile. Fingers fumbling with nervousness, she placed the posterboard behind the others, continuing.
I’m here to tell you that I understand and respect that you’re moving on, that you don’t want to have anything to do with me because I hurt you. I know that and I’m so very sorry.
I pushed you away because I was scared. You were the first person to break through that wall I’d built up around my heart.
You broke through my defenses every time you linked your fingers with mine, every time you kissed my hand. When you came over when I was sick, introduced me to the best Christmas tradition I’ve ever known.
Every time you held me in your arms, I felt safe and cherished.
But I let my fear get in the way. I was so scared that you’d eventually choose someone or something over me that I pushed you away.
I know it’s too late. But I wanted to let you know how I felt … how I feel about you. To tell you that you have my heart. And you always will.
Widening her eyes to try and hold back the tears threatening to spill over, she cleared her throat, holding up the final board.
I know that it’s too late for us, but I hope you find someone equally as amazing to love you the way you deserve to be loved. Because you deserve that and so much more.
Laney turned abruptly to hurry to the door, fingers blindly fumbling to stop the music playing, not even bothering to remove her CD from his stereo. Holding the posterboards to her chest as if they were her armor, she prayed she could make it across the hall to her classroom before the tears broke through. Just as her hand touched the door handle, Zach called to her.
“Laney.”
She froze, knowing that she couldn’t turn around, couldn’t face him. Not now, not like this. Swallowing around the thick lump of emotion in her throat, she answered, “Yes?”
Silence dragged on enough to make her think that maybe he’d changed his mind, but just as she twisted the door handle, he spoke.
“I want the same for you, too, Laney. I want you to know how amazing you are and that you deserve to be loved, to have love in your life.”
All she could offer was a quick nod, lips clamped down to hold in the sobs threatening to break free. She opened the door and let it fall closed behind her, rushing to her own room.
Once inside her classroom, she’d hurriedly put the blind down over the door’s window and went into her storage closet. It was only after she had turned the lock on the inside, so no one could witness her break down, that she finally allowed herself to give in to the tears. Sitting atop the step stool she kept there, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself, letting the silent tears rain down her cheeks.
She knew that while it hurt now, it would eventually ease. It had to. But right now, at this moment, it truly felt like her heart had been torn in two.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
ZACH WASN’T SURE HOW LONG he stood in his classroom, packaging tape in his hand, staring at the closed door Laney had just escaped through. She must not have realized he could see the reflection—her reflection—in the door’s window, had seen the utter pain in her eyes. The unshed, glistening tears in them.
Had that been the face, the expression of a woman who could truly love him and not run away from him? A woman who would want to be with him for the long haul?
The door opened abruptly and Zach saw his principal enter the classroom. Shaking off his troubled thoughts, he forced a smile as he greeted Mr. Pratt.
“I know, I know. It’s a mess.” Zach gestured to the stacks of materials, supplies he had set out to pack for the move. “But I promise this place will be spotless and all set for the new teacher to move into once I get finished.”
“New teacher?” Mr. Pratt scoffed before waving off the comment. “I haven’t even begun to find anyone to fill your position yet. Nobody quite fits the bill. Keep hoping you’ll change your mind.” Mr. Pratt’s head tipped as he appeared to study Zach, making him feel a bit uneasy. “You sure you won’t change your mind?”
No, I’m not sure of anything anymore.
Zach nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Okay. Well, just let me know if you ever need anything.” Mr. Pratt shrugged. “Help with curriculum, the yahoos downtown at the Board, or working for me again.” He winked at Zach with a smile before turning to head toward the door. Stopping in the doorway, he glanced back. “It’s been a pleasure working with you and I really hope to see you again.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it,” Zach told him sincerely. He had enjoyed working for this man who supported his teachers like no other.
After the door fell closed behind his principal, Zach was again left to work in silence, to resume his packing. Now, for some reason, he had zero enthusiasm toward the act.
Instead, he had the nagging feeling that he was making the wrong decision.
* * *
He was going to miss this. Zach sat on his back deck with a beer, watching the very beginning of the sunset over the Atlantic Ocean. He had priced places to live in Neptune Beach, and unless he wanted to tap into his trust fund—which he didn’t—there was no way he could afford to rent something even a few blocks away from the beach. He really had lucked out with the deal on his current, soon to be former, place.
Right now, he was feeling pretty damn torn about things. Having Laney come to his room and say … or write her feelings for him was unexpected, to say the least. He still felt shell-shocked.
Suddenly, the phone he’d laid on the small table beside him began to ring. He picked it up, glancing at the caller ID, making a face before answering it.
“Hello, Mother.”
“I’ve been trying to call you for weeks! Why haven’t you answered? I suppose you’ve been with that Laney girl?” The way she all but snarled into the phone spoke volumes. This was why he hadn’t answer
ed her calls.
“I believe I made myself clear the last time we spoke. Whenever you decide to act like a nice human being, then we’ll talk. Otherwise, I have nothing to say to you.”
“But, Zachariah,” she whined, “the attorney has to get your approval for any additional allowances for me. And I really need to pay the mortgage.”
His lips pressed thin with irritation. “The mortgage gets paid on the first of every month, Mother. It’s now the fifteenth. Which means it’s been paid already,” he bit out. “How do I know this? Because I’m the one who does it.”
“But—”
“I’ve got to go.” Zach ended the call, cutting her off. She had never apologized for the way she had spoken to Laney. Knowing his mother, she probably never would.
His phone rang again and, beyond irritated at this point, he answered it angrily, “What do you want, now?”
“Whoa, whoa,” came a familiar male voice. “I just wanted you to come let me in your front door, dude. But if this isn’t a good time …”
Releasing a long sigh, Zach ran a hand over his face. So wrapped up in the phone call with his mother, he must have not heard the doorbell. “I’ll be right there.” He entered through the sliding glass door and walked through the house to the front door. When Zach opened it, Lawson was standing there holding a case of beer.
“You look like you might need all of these, buddy.” He held up the beer.
Zach shook his head. “Tempting at this point, trust me. Come on in.” He turned and walked back down the hallway to the kitchen, waiting as Lawson placed the beers in the fridge, offering one to Zach.
He shook his head. “Already have one, thanks.”
Lawson took the beer for himself, opened it, and tossed the cap in the trash before following him out onto the deck.
As the two men sat in the chairs, drinking their beers, Lawson finally spoke. “So, rough phone call with Mags?”
Lawson referred to Zach’s mother as Mags ever since he’d met her and discovered just how awful she was. Of course, once Lawson found out that her name was Margaret, he had proceeded to call her ‘Mags’ every chance he got. Especially after the woman had insulted him about the beard he sported so proudly.
