Salt Water Wounds (Oyster Cove #1)

by Jennifer Foor

  It’s awkwardly quiet for a few minutes. “Ever think about dating? Maybe getting married again to have the help?”

  His brow raises as he throws a inquisitive glare. “Never.”

  “Don’t you get lonely at night? I’m only asking because that’s when it really gets to me. It’s when I crawl in bed and the spot next to me is empty and cold. Don’t get me wrong, I like sleeping in the middle, but it’s still depressing to know that side never belongs to someone else.”

  “You’ve dated.”

  “If you call it that. I’ve tried to date. It’s slim pickings here on the island, and after what I’ve been through, I find it difficult to trust another man.”

  “You’re here with me, in my house. Do I make you uncomfortable?”

  I shake my head. He’s right. I haven’t once considered he would take advantage of me, or treat me bad. “Not at all. You’re different, Buck. Any other man would expect me to reward them for saving my ass earlier today. You haven’t even mentioned the pain on your face.”

  “A reward, you’re taking sexual?” He finishes off his beer. “Would you oblige?”

  I’m surprised he would ask. “Seriously?”

  “It’s just a question. A dinner topic, I suppose. Nothing wrong with being curious.”

  I fold my hands together over my place setting. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m not a floosy. I’ve made some bad choices and learned from each of those mistakes. The reason I didn’t ask anyone else is because I knew if I came here I wouldn’t have to deal with that.”

  “True. You’re safe here, unless you like em’ young. I wouldn’t put it past Brant to hit on you. Hell, he probably already has.”

  I see a lot of Buck in Brantley Jr. They’re both strikingly handsome, brooding, and almost too good to be true, but I don’t think of Brant as someone who would interest me. He’s young, immature, and full of himself. “If he has I wasn’t paying attention. I’m not interested in being someone’s Mrs. Robinson.”

  “Sugar Momma,” he corrects. “That’s what he’d look for.”

  We both get a kick out of it. “Well I don’t have a pot to piss in, so he’s shit out of luck in that department.”

  “So you’re not into younger guys?”

  “Not at all,” I reply while catching his gaze. For a few seconds we’re just staring at one another, until it gets weird. Then I quickly change the subject. “Have you tried sitting down and talking to your daughter, or asking her guidance counselor to speak with her regarding her feelings?”

  Buck is focused on parenting again. “When Layla passed away the kids had all been talking to their counselors at school. Our pastor came to the house for the first few months, though we never returned to church. I couldn’t sit in that same pew we always selected and look up at the choir to see her spot empty. The kids didn’t want to attend Sunday school because they knew their mother wouldn’t be right down the hall with her own class. We’ve tried to avoid anything that would be stressful, Bristol included. I’d like to say I’ve done everything possible, but when she needed help the most I was too busy to notice the signs. Now she’s the way she is. She wants to rebel, and sometimes I feel like if I don’t let her find her way she’ll blame me for everything that has happened, not necessarily losing her mother to cancer, but the aftermath of it all. As far as meeting someone who will eventually want to help out, well it’s not in the cards for me. I wouldn’t want to burden anyone else with my tyrants, and even if someone did come along, I don’t know how it would work out. I’m set in my ways.”

  We’ve never talked this much before, not unless it was about something for the restaurant. I know he likes shrimp salad on wheat toast with two pickles on the side. If you do business with him he makes sure you’re rewarded with extra. He’s resilient. “Buck, I don’t think you realize how admirable you are. You think you’re failing, but your kids are still under one roof for the most part, they’re healthy. Everyone has jobs. They might be disrespectful, but what kid isn’t? I think Layla would be proud of you. I know it’s been a lot of lonely years, and you’ve had a hell of a time dealing, but you haven’t failed. You’ve instead kept your family together the best you know how. It’s commendable.”

  I think he’s somewhat shocked. He stumbles with a response, and when one finally comes out he’s more than regretful for what he says. “That means a lot to me, Perry. I’m kind of glad you came here tonight. I think I needed to hear that.”

  “You know, you don’t have to call me Perry. It’s the name I use at the bar.”

  “What did your husband call you?”

  I almost cringe at the thought of it. “Alice. He called me by my name.”

  “And you want me to do the same, because we’re friends now?”

  “I shrug. When you put it like that I’m reconsidering.”

  I like it when Buck smiles. He’s got nice straight teeth, and the facial hair on his chin moves. The creases in his eyes tell the story of a hard life, but Buck is more than just an attractive face to me. The more I spend one on one time with him, the more I seem to feel a pull to want to know what makes him tick. I’ve always liked a challenge. Hell or high water, I’m going to get under his skin.

  The front door slams, alarming Buck that his daughter might be leaving. Before we’re able to check, a young man steps into the kitchen. It’s one of the twins.

  “Coop. It’s about time you got home. Where were you earlier? We were supposed to meet at the cemetery.”

  He runs his hand through his wet dark hair. “Shit. I forgot what the date was. We had a family come in for a tour today. It was twenty of them. My boss had to borrow extra kayaks, because he’d accidentally rented out too many. We’ve been on the water all day. Sorry, Dad.” He peeks through the kitchen window. “It’s really coming down out there.”

  Buck doesn’t care about the weather. “Make sure you stop by and say hi to her this week,” is all he says to his son. “Dinner is on the stove.”

  Nick comes in the room. “Is that your PlayStation in the living room?”

  Coop looks from his dad, to me, then to Nick. “Who are you people?”

  “You know Perry, and this is her son, Nick. They’re staying here for night, because their house isn’t safe to be in right now.”

  Coop extends his hand for Nick to shake. “Good to meet you, dude. Yeah, it’s mine and my brother’s. You want to play? I’ve got an Xbox in my room that gets better games.”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Coop makes a plate of food and disappears with Nick. Knowing boys the way I do, I’m certain I won’t see them for a while.

  I stare out the window above the sink. “I happen to enjoy thunderstorms. I always liked to think that they come along to wash away the bad, so we can start over fresh with a new day.”

  “That’s one way to think of it.”

  I go back to our earlier conversation. “Ally, or Al. That’s what my friends and family call me. Dad still slips sometimes around customers.”

  “There’s a covered porch on the other side of the house. Are you interested in sitting outside? I’ve got mosquito repellent.”

  Chincoteague is known for it’s infestation of pesky mosquitos. I’m humbled at the invite, and also impressed. “Sure.”

  He takes a bag of chips out of a broken kitchen cabinet and leads me to a part of the house I’ve yet to explore. When we come to a bedroom I’m taken back. “Buck, you never said you were taking me to your room.”

  He’s laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not. Keep walking, smartass.” When he lightly smacks my butt I’m caught off guard again. This isn’t the uptight man I’m used to.

  Maybe I should have listened, but when I scan the room and notice so much of his wife’s belongings still apparent, I freeze in place. A pink fuzzy robe hangs on a hook, and a pair of slippers sit underneath. The nightstand has a watch and some other jewelry on a tray, and a pile of women’s clothes are folded in a basket on the floor that look to
have dust over them top. “Oh, Buck. Have you left her things like this since she’s been gone?”

  “Am I pathetic?”

  “No. It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” I can feel tears welling in my eyes. My emotions are going nuts, as I consider the amount of love this man still holds for his wife. It’s something I’ve never witnessed before.

  Buck stumbles for words. “Really? You don’t think I’m crazy?”

  I shake my head and reach up to touch his cheek. There’s nothing intimate about this embrace. I’m simply comforting him as a friend. He places his hand over mine and then slowly pulls it away. Then Buck sits on the edge of his mattress and stares down at the floor. “She would have been forty six today. I miss her so damn much, and not just for everything she did to keep our family going. I miss her smile, and the way she would yell at me for snoring. I miss her bitching. It’s supposed to get easier, and even though in a lot of ways it has, I’m still suffering.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Buck. Cancer is a bitch. No one deserves that fate, but you have to know she’s not suffering. As much as you love her that has to help get you by.”

  He nods. “It does.” While his face remains calm, I can tell he’s hurting. I stand and watch him take a deep breath. “Let’s go watch this storm before it’s over.”

  Just like a switch turning on a light, he’s done with the conversation. I think it’s a man thing, but I can appreciate him giving me a few minutes to ask questions without it becoming awkward.

  Once we’re outside, we spray down with bug repellent and take two matching seats that look out at the water, the clouds, and the beautiful lightening striking down across the horizon.

  “I’d like to buy your bar, Perry. It’s time I start looking for a job that isn’t so physical. I need something to fall back on.”

  “Seriously? Do you have experience?”

  “Not a lick.”

  We both laugh. I bite down on my lip and look into his curious eyes. He’s such a beautiful man. It’s almost too hard to deny him anything when we’re alone like this. “Like I said before, I’ll have to think about it.” If he only knew what I’d have to do to be able to sell it to anyone.

  “You do that. Keep me posted. I think it’s something I’d enjoy.”

  “You hate talking to people. That’s a big part of the job.”

  “I hate people who think they can be in my business. I don’t mind listening to other people vent. It’s amusing to know I’m not the only screw up on the island.”

  “You have a point.” I’m quiet for a second. “I’ll think about it, if you agree to one thing first.”

  “What?”

  I wait for him to look at me before saying it. “Take me out on a date. Dinner. Something.”

  “I…That’s not a good idea.”

  “Buck, it’s time. I’m not asking for a promise ring, just a damn meal and conversation. We’ve done pretty good tonight so far.”

  He takes a few seconds to think about it. “Okay. I can agree to that.”

  “Good, because I wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer, not this time.”

  Just like that, in the midst of having the worst day in years, I’m smiling ear to ear. Buck Wallace is taking me on a date. He’s slowly opening up to me. Now all I have to do is make sure I say the right things, and prove to him that he can be happy again. I can make this happen. We both need this. We can be good together, if he’d let me have the chance to prove it to him.

  Chapter 7

  I’m sitting next to someone I’m used to seeing at her place of business. Due to the situation she’s in, I know she’ll be safe for the night at Oyster Cove. The name of my residence makes me smile. Most homes have names in Chincoteague. It’s just something everyone does. Most refer to relaxation or the beach. Some are even named from seashells. Oyster Cove is significant to my family because of our business. We’re waterman, who spend half the year oystering. Some would call us oystermen, but that’s not all we do. We crab, shrimp, and even charter fishing expeditions, on one of my two designated watercrafts. That keeps us busy year round, but with my boys all working for me throughout the year, I’m finding it difficult to pay them what they deserve and still have enough to keep for myself. It’s why I think the idea of buying the bar might be the best solution. It would give me something that’s mine, while the boys kept the business going.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve had a visitor at the house, more to the point a female. This all sort of got thrown onto my plate having been there when the shit hit the fan earlier. At first I regretted saying she could hide at my house, but now I’m surprisingly distracted. She’s more than meets the eye. Alice Perry has a past that makes mine look innocent. She’s got an ex who might want her dead. I’d never seen someone as scared as she was earlier. Now that she’s here, under my roof, I’m getting to know things about her I never thought I’d be interested in.

  We sit outside for the entirety of the thunderstorm, watching the lightning strike across the skyline. We discuss our families; her telling me about her rocky marriage, while I open up a bit about Layla, and how it’s been hell trying to get over her.

  I don’t know what I expected when I walked her through my bedroom to get to the covered porch. I know she thinks I need mental help regarding my wife’s belongings. I’ve been meaning to get to packing her things up, but I don’t know if I can go through with it. Getting rid of those items is like saying goodbye to the constant reminders I enjoy having.

  Now I’ve agreed to take another woman on a date, and I don’t know how I feel about that either. I’m enjoying her company. She’s sexy, smart, and savvy. I even get a kick out of listening to her correcting Bristol for acting inappropriate, but taking a leap like this could break me.

  If I’m anything, it’s a man of my word. If I said I’d take this woman out to dinner, it’s going to happen. I’m not making promises that I’ll enjoy myself, or vice versa. There’s a good chance she’ll tell me to never speak to her again. Let’s face it. I’ll never be over my wife. I like to talk about her, about our life we shared together. Back when I was happy and comfortable. Now I’m damaged and lost.

  After nine, the house starts to fill up.

  The twins took Nick in their room, and from the sounds resonating behind the closed door, I’d say they were fully engulfed in video gaming. Bristol locked herself in her room and played music at a volume I could handle. Brant came in and then left again, saying he was staying somewhere else for the night, and I’m not sure if it was because my guests or he had his own plans. Dane mostly stays in his studio apartment, so he’s not expected, while Weston, who we all call West, arrived well after eleven. I know this because I could hear him banging around in the kitchen, talking to a female that didn’t sound like someone I’d ever heard within these walls.

  I end up getting Perry comfortable in Dane’s room, then retreat back to mine. As I lay there staring at the ceiling, unable to close my eyes, I worry what Layla would be thinking if she was watching me. Would she approve of me helping out a local? Would she be jealous and accuse me of having interest? Has there been enough time for me to be allowed to have a girlfriend without scrutiny?

  Perry’s always been interested in me. She’s made comments through the years implying the fun we could have if I’d only give it a chance. Back then I wasn’t having it, and almost found her advances offensive, because I was still coping, my mind focused on my loss instead of my future. I haven’t changed much since then. I still worry about my wife, and hope she’s with me in spirit. That’s why dating someone else seems so unnatural. I feel like Layla will be looking over my shoulder, constantly judging me for my actions. I feel like she could sabotage me from the beyond the grave. The thing is, I can see myself with Perry. I can picture her touch, and it doesn’t make me feel guilty when it happens, not unless I dwell on it.

  I know what my kids would say about it, at least the boys. They’ve been on me for years to find
someone to spend time with. They tell me I come home at night and mope around. The porch I sat outside tonight with Perry was mine and my wife’s special place. It’s where we could get away from the kids and be alone together. We shared a lot of talks and even arguments on that particular screened in porch. Maybe I’m overthinking the whole ordeal, but I feel like allowing Perry to sit with me tonight somehow changed things. I enjoyed having her here with me. It was nice to be able to speak to someone who can answer back.

  On the other hand, I feel like an asshole because of what Bristol said.

  Something has to give. I’m tired of being alone, of hurting in what seems like an endless pain.

  It’s the middle of the night before the next storm rolls in. I’ve tossed and turned battling my emotions and decide to go back outside to see if it will settle me. As the rain falls from the sky in large drops, splashes come in through the screen, hitting me at a constant rate. It’s refreshing more than annoying. I need my ill assumptions to wash away with the tides. I’m tired of feeling weak and alone. I’m not saying I want to jump in the sack with Perry or anyone else, but I at least want to feel like I don’t have to ask permission if the opportunity arises.

  Some people think I’m crazy for going so many years without the touch of a woman. It’s actually almost eight years since I’ve been intimate with anyone. Layla’s cancer may have been fast moving, but she’d lost interest in sexual activity way before her diagnosis. Life got in the way, so I didn’t bother asking, until it was too late.

  At first it was uncomfortable. I considered getting a girlfriend for the sole purpose of sexual satisfaction, but felt like Layla would watch me. It was torture.

  I know it’s ridiculous. I’m a grown man who lives with the assumption that my dead wife is still making decisions for me. Maybe I need a shrink instead of a girlfriend.

  While I try to comprehend my indifferences, I hear the sound of the slider opening. Perry has changed into a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt, and since it’s chilly I can tell she’s not wearing a bra underneath. The slightest thought causes parts of me to awaken.