by M. R. Joseph
So when he gets back, we will go to the dock and talk. That’s what’s going to happen. I tried to call him to tell him how my interview was but his voicemail just keeps coming on. Come to think of it, the bus ride should have only taken him two hours to get home. There must be delays. It did wind up raining last night, so maybe that’s what the problem is.
My interview went great, in spite of it being done at such an accelerated speed. They need someone, and they need someone… yesterday. They said they would get back to me by week’s end. That’s two days. My whole future could be planned in two days.
I walk down to the dock to relax and read and wait to hear from Cruz. I hear Max call my name.
“Harlow! You down there?” I see him hang over the top deck, and I turn in my chair to wave to him. He disappears and runs down to meet me. He looks frazzled.
“Max, what’s wrong?”
“Have you heard from Cruz since you’ve been back?”
“No, why? Is something wrong?” My stomach drops from the tone of his voice.
“His Captain called. He’s been trying to get a hold of him for a few hours now, but he says his phone is going straight to voicemail.”
“Max, why weren’t his parents there?”
He runs a hand through his mohawk and sighs.
“Harlow, ask Cruz. I gotta run to Jax for a sound check, so as soon as you hear from him, call me. I’ll leave him a note at the house just in case.”
Ask Cruz. The words run through my head. Did he get in an argument with them, or are they away on a vacation or something like that? I could ask Bella or Tony, but maybe it’s best if I just ask Cruz myself.
My mind goes to everything that could possibly be going on and why Cruz hasn’t called or what has happened. I don’t think I can stand it, so I’m going to call Bella. I have to be cautious when asking so I don’t upset them and make them worry.
I call the hospital and ask for Bella Cruz’s room. They connect me and Bella picks up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Bella, hi this is Harlow Hannum.”
“Harlow, hi sweetie. How are things? Did your interview go well?”
I can hear the little stirring and cooing sounds of baby Matteo close to my ear.
“Great, actually, but I should be asking how you guys are.”
“We are doing great. Matteo’s feeding well and we can go home tomorrow. Did Raph make it home ok?”
Shit!
“Well, that’s really why I’m calling. I haven’t heard from him and he told me he would be home early afternoon and it’s almost five, so I’m a little worried.”
“You’re just a little worried?” Her tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s questionable.
“Yes, I am. Actually, I’m a lot worried. He always picks up when I call and usually gets back to me through text within a minute and now it’s going straight to voicemail.”
“Harlow, maybe his bus is running late and he forgot to charge his phone or something like that. He’s a big boy, I’m sure he’s fine. The man has fought in wars, so don’t worry too much.”
“I’ll try, it’s just, well I’m just… Well, it’s just not like him not to answer or at least try to contact me.”
“Give me your number and if by some chance he calls me or Tony, I’ll tell him how worried you are and for him to call you.”
I give her my number and say, “Thank you.”
“And Harlow, just so you know, and if I’m crossing a line here, I’m sorry, but he cares a lot about you and worries for you as well, so thank you, for feeling the same about him.”
“Thank you, Bella. Take care of that new little man, and I’m so glad I got a chance to meet you and Tony.”
“Me too, Harlow and hopefully we’ll see a lot more of you sooner than later.”
The line goes dead, and I stare at the phone.
My phone starts to buzz. I fumble with it, hoping it’s Cruz, praying that it’s him, telling me he’s ok, but it’s a number I don’t recognize.
“Cruz?” But it’s not.
“Miss Hannum, this is Greg Landberg from Grayson Elders School District.”
Great, I guess he’s calling to tell me they hired someone more qualified.
“Mr. Landberg, so nice to hear from you. What do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
He laughs, but in a friendly way.
“Well, the pleasure is all mine, believe me, Miss Hannum. We would like to offer you the position of seventh grade English teacher for this coming year at Grayson Elders Middle School.”
No, he did not just offer me a job. I pinch myself. I mean I just pinched my arm.
“Mr. Landberg, I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, we were hoping you’d say yes, and that you can report for duty by next Wednesday, so you can get acclimated with the school and the curriculum for the coming year.”
Here is my future. I have a job, and it’s all I ever wanted. This is happening so fast.
“Mr. Landberg, thank you so very much and I accept. I can be there next week. Just tell me what time and where.”
“We were so very impressed by your interview and we know that you will be a wonderful asset to our school. My secretary will send you more information and a copy of the contract for you to look over. You already submitted to us all the necessary paperwork on background checks and so forth, so that’s taken care of.”
I thank him for the opportunity, and that I will see him then. I try to dial Cruz again, but it still goes straight to voicemail. Wait till he hears. Wait till he finds out he got a job as well. Wait till I get my hands on him for making me worry the way I am.
I run up to the house to tell the girls. Willow is going to teach sixth grade Spanish at the school, so we will be together.
“Well, girls I think this calls for a celebration. A night out tonight for one last hurrah before we have to head back next week,” Willow says. She’ll head back with me on Monday so we can prepare for Wednesday. Only four more days here. I’ll have to say goodbye to Sandy Cove, among other things.
That reality sets in. I only have a few days left here. My time is being cut short at the shore, but my dream is coming true. I’ll be a teacher, and I’ll be happy… Finally… Maybe.
***
CHAPTER 12
Don’t expect too much like in those cheesy romance novels
Cruz~
Can someone please tell me how much worse the past six hours can get? First, I get on the wrong bus and wind up in bumble-fuck who the hell knows where and why? Because I fell asleep on the damn bus, and I’m at least three hours away from home, not stopping anytime soon mind you. Then I lost my phone. I lost my fucking phone in the bus terminal. How could I be so stupid? Where is my freaking head? Lack of sleep, thoughts of the girl I need to get home to so I can tell her how I feel about her. That’s where it is. This whole bus ride I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to her, how to tell her. I wrote it down on the back of a paper towel from the men’s room in the bus terminal. I don’t know how to write shit, I can’t even form the right words to express myself half the time. I fight. I fuck. I work hard. I’ve never had to tell a girl I think about her all the time. When she’s not around, I miss her, and I look forward to seeing her every morning. When I’m at work, she’s on my mind. How her scent stays with me all day after she’s been near me. All those things I never really even realized I was thinking of until now. It just seemed like second nature to me to think about her. We spend so much time together, I’d have to say that’s normal.
Right?
I think I’ve read what I wrote a hundred times on this trip, and I have more crossed off and written over than I care to share. The old lady next to me smells like moth balls and scotch. The rain hasn’t stopped. I can’t find a working pay phone anywhere to call Harlow.
But what if she’s not even caring that I said I’d be home in the early afternoon. Maybe she could care less. Maybe she met up with her ex, and he
took her to some country club for dinner, buying her diamonds and is sweeping her off her feet and crap like that.
What if I tell her I want her and it turns out she doesn’t want me. Then what?
I’m scared, and I don’t want to be.
In my mind, I’m just as scared as I was in Iraq and that was scared shitless. I remember we had to convoy from Kuwait to a base in Iraq. It was a mile long. We didn’t have armored vehicles like the military does now, and all the roadside bombs that were set up were destroying ours. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach now is like the feeling I had that day. Not knowing what the outcome is going to be, but I’ve taken rejection my whole life, and I’ve dealt, so what the hell. Just get me off this bus, so I can see if a bomb is going to go off or not.
The houses are dark, but the cars are still here when the cab drops me off. I go inside, and I see a note from Max telling me they’re all at Jax. I smell like that old lady who sat next to me on the bus, and I’m in desperate need of a shower.
You know what? Fuck it. I’ll run the twelve blocks to Jax. I already stink so what’s the sense of even bothering with a shower.
I run as fast as my legs can take me. It’s dark and there are plenty of people hanging outside on the sidewalks near all the local hangouts. I push my way through, my heart racing. Although I’m running, my knees are shaking. The crumbled up paper towel with all my thoughts is in my pocket. I get to Jax. I’m sweating, panting, nervous as all hell. I say hi to the bouncer and make my way in. I swim through the crowd, searching for her, that mane of strawberry blonde that I just want to run my hands through. I feel a pull on my arm, and as I look down to see whose hand is on me I realize it’s that girl I took home a few weeks ago. The one Harlow ran into after she left my room.
“Hey, Cruz. Long time no see. Where you off to so quickly?”
I really don’t have time for this. I didn’t want to talk to her when she was naked and wanton in my bed, and I certainly don’t want to talk to her now.
“I’m kind of in a hurry, so I’ll see you around.”
But she doesn’t let go, only tugs my arm stronger.
“I don’t get what’s got you in such a rush, but if you stick around, I can certainly make staying worth your while.”
I take her hand, which is now squeezing my bicep, off of me. I don’t want to be mean, but I need to be blunt.
“Listen, I’m here for a girl, not just ‘some girl’, but ‘the girl’. You and I had a fun night, one night, but that’s as far as I wanted it to go.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d think her eyes turned a shade of black, rage sending a clear path my way. I walk away from her, not looking back, but I can feel her burning a hole right through me with her stare.
I go towards the stage, not seeing a soul I know until I see Max and his band enter the stage. I yell for him, and he hops down.
“Where the hell have you been? We kept calling and calling and you were nowhere to be found. You gave us a freaking heart attack, man.”
I grab his shoulders. “Who did I give a heart attack to?” Hoping with all I have that he gives me the answer I want.
But he doesn’t.
He looks over my shoulder and shakes his head.
“What are you looking at?” He points, and I turn my head just in time to see the roadside bomb go off.
No. God, no.
She’s with him. Close, with his arm around her waist.
Knox.
“That’s not a good scene, Cruz,” Max snaps at me.
“That’s why I’m here, to make it better.”
I leave Max and go to her. Bomb or no bomb, I have to know. I have to let her know that this is more than friendship.
I stalk over to them. His eyes catch mine and his smirk tells me he knows I came for her. His cocky grin, his name-brand shirt, his perfect gelled-up hair.
No games, just her.
I didn’t come here to get into a pissing match with him, I came for her. The only one that matters.
I tap her shoulder. She turns around, with tears in her eyes, and suddenly my heart hurts.
Why is she crying?
She takes one look at me and goes to say something, “Cruz, where have you…”
But I interrupt.
I spin her away from him, and my lips are the only things that silence her as I pull her against my chest and kiss her. Her body molds to mine as she doesn’t protest the kiss, only throwing her arms around my neck, and I lift her tiny body. I could care less that there’s a hundred people in this room, that Knox is here watching us. I kiss this girl because she’s the only thing in this room right now. All that matters, all that I think ever will ever matter.
The way her tongue lashes around mine, her nails digging into my hair as she holds on for dear life, her sweet lips, her sweet scent. The scent of my Turnip.
I place her back down on the floor and immediately she goes to speak, “I don’t know… I don’t under…”
I place my finger on her lips telling her softly to shhh… I go into my pocket and pull out the paper towel. The words are smudged, but these are my thoughts. I won’t let some smeared ink ruin what I have to say to her.
“Let me talk first since you usually have the first and final words.” She rolls her eyes at me and it’s adorable.
“I wrote this on the bus on the way home. And before you say anything, I got on the wrong bus, lost my phone, fell asleep and missed one of the stops, but here I am, and I’m sorry I worried you.” I clear my throat as I begin to read the words that are meant for her.
“I’m not a man of many words, let me rephrase that, I am a man of many words, but usually not the right ones, but here goes. A year and a half ago right across that dance floor, right to where that door is, I met a girl who knocked me for a loop, except I didn’t know it then. You took me under your spell, and it had nothing to do with what went on behind that door. It had everything to do with the way you made me feel. I felt. I actually felt.” She looks confused.
“Do you understand where I’m going with this?”
She bites her bottom lip and wipes a tear falling down over her adorable freckled cheek.
Knox interrupts, his cronies gathering around him, watching me, waiting to see what I’m going to say next.
“No one knows where you’re going with this, asshole, so why don’t you shove off and let Harlow and me finish our conversation.”
He steps a bit closer, puffing out his chest. I’ll give him credit, he’s got balls to stand up to me like this. I look dead on in his eyes, and I’m not about to let him ruin what I came here to say to her. So even if what I’m about to say isn’t directly to her face, I bare my soul with my words. I’m looking at him, so he understands that I’m not fucking around. I’m here to let this girl know I want her, and he can’t have her, again, ever again.
“So why don’t I tell you where I’m going with this, Chad. See that girl next to you?” I point to Harlow, and then I stuff the paper towel with the words back in my jeans. I don’t need it. Whatever comes out of my mouth is what it is.
“She just turned my world upside down. She makes it chaotic with her big words and over-opinionated attitude. But you see, I like that. It means, if she feels the same way about me that I feel about her, our life won’t be boring. Now you see where I’m going with this?”
Chad bursts out with laughter.
“Oh, come on Harlow. Are you really going to fall for this shit? Look at him. I know what he is. He’s a fucking rent-a-cop. Please. What can he really give you?”
He backs up, and I push up my sleeves in an attempt to let him know to back the fuck up.
“See those tears in her eyes, they’re not there because I caused them and never will be. That’s what I’ll give to her.”
I think I’ve wasted enough words on him, so I turn my body towards her. Her eyes are bright blue, dark smudges from her mascara circle under them, so I take my fingers and wipe any traces of tears of darkness away
. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll never have to do it again.
“I can’t promise you the world, ‘cause I don’t have it. I can’t promise you I’ll give you flowers, or take you dancing. I’m not the person who talks all mushy like in those silly books you read, or like those guys in the old movies you make me watch with you. I’m honest to a fault so when you ask me if your ass looks big in a pair of jeans and they do, I’m going to say yea, go change them. When you have a big zit on your face and you ask me if I can see it, I’ll say yes, go put some girly stuff on it and cover the damn thing ‘cause I won’t lie. I can’t promise we won’t fight, because let’s face it, it’s what we do best. We don’t agree half the time, but it’s what makes us… Well us.”
I pause and wait for her to slap me, kick me in the balls, or just walk away, but all she says is, “Continue.” So I do.
“If you don’t feel the same, let me know. If there’s doubt in there…” I point to her heart. “Walk away, and if you just want to be friends, well, I’ll have to learn to live with that part, but I won’t live without you in my life.”
She’s silent and I’m not sure where this is going to go. Time seems to stand still as I wait for her to say something, anything. Max’s band starts to play and it’s suddenly deafening loud in here. She goes on her tippy-toes and whispers in my ear.
“You think it would be appropriate if we go in the bathroom and finish where we left off a year and a half ago?”
That’s my girl.
I caress her hair, the softness making my fingers tingle.
“Nah, let’s start by introducing ourselves, last names included.” I extend out my hand. “Hi, I’m Raphael Cruz, but you can call me Cruz.” She takes my hand and laughs.
“Harlow Hannum, damn glad to meet you, Cruz.”
