“You could have brought her here instead of paying for a room.”
“I know. It was easier. Trust me. She’s not easy to wash in small spaces. Pretty sure that whole room smells like wet dog now. I feel bad for the maids, but it’s nothing a good cleaning can’t fix. I paid for the service. The room costs less than the dang groomer fees.”
“I bet. She’s a whole lot of animal. Do they charge you extra for her?”
“Most of the dogs are big. They need all that hair in the winter.”
Dad folds his hands across his small belly. He’s been eating good from what I can tell. “Look at us, sitting here talking about washing dogs. I’d rather talk about you. Are you good? I know you didn’t drive all this way to discuss animals.”
“I’m okay, Dad. I wasn’t for a long time, but it’s getting better.”
I can tell the next question makes him uncomfortable. “You think you’ll stick around for a while?”
“We’ll see how things go.” I change the subject quickly. “Speaking of that, how’s the restaurant? You ready for the crowds?”
“Always ready. We’ve been doing well considering the cold winter. I could use a little more help with servers if you’re interested in staying busy.”
“It’s funny you say that. I might know someone who is looking.”
“Are they local?”
I shrug. “I’ll let you know. Now that I think about it, they probably wouldn’t be interested.”
“Let me know.”
It’s bothering me that I can’t stop thinking about Kimber and her awful living conditions. I think about how much her letters have helped me connect with Brice when missing her felt like it was killing me. I shouldn’t want to be her friend, but I feel so damn sorry for her situation. She’s blaming herself, and on top of that there isn’t one person in the world telling her she’s wrong. Brice would be devastated if she knew her sister tried to kill herself. She made a career out of helping people avoid such actions.
I sit and talk to my dad for a while until he begins yawning. Since I know he has a breakfast shift in the morning, I excuse myself to head to my house. It’s time I finally made some progress of my own.
After collecting Bee from her new boyfriend, we head out. Pulling up into the driveway feels okay. I’m home. As I look into the windows of the dark first floor I take a deep breath. “You can do this.”
Except I’m not sure I can.
I’m driving back to Oyster to spend the night, because the thought of going inside and seeing any remnant of my life with Brice was too much to handle. Maybe I’ll try again in the morning. For now I need to calm down and rethink the whole situation.
The morning sun shines in through the sheer curtains of my old bedroom. Since moving out they mostly use this room for Alice’s sewing material. She makes dresses in her spare time and sells them at a little boutique here on the island. Dad says it’s just a hobby she does when she has the free time, much like his little projects he gets into around the house. It’s funny. He didn’t do shit for years, but once Alice came into his life he really got his ass back in gear.
The house is empty when Bee and I climb out of bed. I get washed up while she uses the outside facilities and decide to take her for a long walk on the bay side of Assateague Island. While we’re driving there I peer over and notice Kimber’s car is no longer parked at the motel. Since I know she works nights I wonder where she would have gone so early in the morning.
After our walk I discover exactly where she’s gone. I find her car parked in the ocean lot. It’s off by itself, and for some reason it makes me worried. Suddenly I’m wondering if she came here after I saw her and ended her life. My heart races until I see a lone woman sitting with her legs crossed looking at the crashing waves. Her hair is blowing with the breeze as I approach. From the back she looks just like Brice. For a minute I pretend it’s her. “I miss you so much, babe,” I whisper. “I’m going to help your sister. I know it’s what you’d want.”
If someone would have told me I’d be friends with Kimber Carpenter I would have laughed in their faces. The thing is, like it or not we have a common interest. We both need help, because the person we loved the most is gone. Instead of blaming her I need to appreciate that a part of Brice will always remain. Maybe I’m being a little selfish, but at least I’m making an effort. It’s all I have to offer at this point.
Chapter 22
Kimber
I toss and turn, more than usual, and it’s all because of the run in I had with Weston Wallace. I don’t know why it made me so upset. He has every right to hate me, but for some reason showed sympathy when I didn’t expect it.
When I wrote about my sister last night I couldn’t finish the story. We were at the beach with the hot sun shining over our oil coated skin, the sounds of the guys surfing in the water, while the distant neigh of ponies reminded us they were near. We shared a pack of raisins and talked about the time I got one stuck in my ear. We were laughing. It was a great memory, until it wasn’t. I began bawling. It’s been a while since I’ve lost control like that. I sobbed until my eyes burned, and my throat felt like something was clawing it. When I had nothing left to let out, I fell asleep, having nightmare after nightmare. I kept seeing the crash. I felt the stabbing pain as the car rolled off the highway. I saw the tears in my sister’s eyes and the way I think she knew nothing was going to be okay. I’d wake up out of breath and sweating, and what’s worse is when I closed my eyes it happened again.
Morning came and I woke with two puffy eyes and the sniffles. I don’t have work until the evening, and since I know I need rest I decide to go somewhere to help clear my head, and now the sinus congestion.
The ocean air has to help. The temperature is supposed to be in the upper sixties. It’s not warm enough to swim, and I doubt anyone will be around. When I arrive I spot several people collecting shells. Most locals keep them in their front yard for sale. Tourists love to buy them. A full conch can make someone an easy five bucks.
I admire how little things like this makes people happy. I suppose writing does the same for me. Right now it’s all I have.
I’m done feeling sorry for myself. I stopped worrying what people thought a while ago. If I cared I wouldn’t be slumming it up at the motel. I don’t need crappy friends, or a boyfriend who couldn’t give two shits about me. I’m alone. It’s my reality and it’s okay. As far as I’m concerned I’ve become unlovable. There’s no one playing the violin at my side. Not a single person cares enough to throw me a pity party. I fucked up my life. I’m here because of me. I chose to push my so-called friends away. I decided it was best to get away from my parents and how they were treating me.
In order to respect myself I had to break free of it all.
So here I sit. Alone on the beach. It’s beautiful and a disaster at the same time.
A seagull whips down on the sand next to me looking for a handout. I don’t know about the seagulls in other places, but these birds are greedy. They’ll take a sandwich out of your hand if you give them opportunity. They’re like flying ninjas, swooping in and catching you off guard. I shoo this one away, and as I’m doing it I spot someone walking in my direction.
I go to stand, but West motions for me to stay where I am. “Don’t get up.”
“I’ve been here long enough.”
“It’s a public beach, Kimber. I’m not expecting you to leave on my account.” He gives me a good once over and I’m shocked at what he says next. “Have you been crying?”
“So what if I have? It’s nothing new.”
“You should talk to someone, Kimber.”
“Don’t do that.” I point at him. “Don’t say what she would.”
“I’m saying it because it’s the truth. You can’t continue living your life without purpose, and I’m only saying it because I’m in the same situation. I want a reason to wake up every morning.”
“I might never have a reason, West. Maybe I don’t even want one.�
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He sticks his hands in his pockets and looks back at the truck. “I’m headed to breakfast. Have you eaten?”
“I don’t eat breakfast.”
He shakes his head with a semi-annoyed grin. “Why are you being so stubborn?”
I cross my arms. “Don’t you remember? This is me.” I motion toward his truck where his dog sits waiting. “What are you even doing here?”
“We came for an early walk. I took her on the other side of the dunes so she didn’t get so sandy. We were leaving when I spotted your vehicle.”
“You should have kept driving.”
He shakes his head at me and throws up his hands. “Back to being the old Kimber now? You know what, forget I even asked. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”
I let him get to his truck before I run after him. “Why would I want help from someone who is just as broken?”
“If I have something in common with anyone in this world right now, it’s you, Kimber. You know I tried to go home last night and couldn’t make it inside the door? Do you have any idea what it’s like to own a house that you’re scared of walking into?”
I bite on my lip. “I’m sorry, West. I thought you were doing better.”
“I knew it would be hard. I’m just glad my brothers weren’t expecting me.”
“So where did you sleep?” I ask out of curiosity.
“My dad’s house. It was better than the motel. No offense.”
“None taken. I get it. It’s nothing great. It beats living in a car.”
His eyes widen. “Did you really live in your car?”
“For a time, yeah I did.”
“That sucks.”
I manage a sort of half smile. “Weren’t you the one who always said I was a waste of space?”
“Come on. You were a big time cock block.”
I giggle. “She was my sister. I had every right to want to hang out with her.”
He nods. “Yeah, you did.”
It’s probably out of line to say it, but I have nothing to lose. “I’m not a charity case, West. You don’t have to spend time with me because you feel sorry for me.”
“Kimber, I’m asking you to breakfast because I think you and I should figure out how to be friends. I think it’s what your sister would want, and to be honest when I’m around you I feel closer to her.”
Immediately my eyes fill up with tears. It’s not necessarily the words, but more the truth of it all. I think back to her last words and feel that struggle again. My emotions are all over the place, but the idea of having a friend, any friend, is the only thing I want. Maybe I should have gotten a dog. He seems to care a lot about his. She keeps him company. I’d love to have someone to cuddle with at night. But there’s also the responsibilities that come with it and I’m not ready to make that kind of decision.
“I’d really like to have breakfast with you.”
“Thought you didn’t eat breakfast?” He teases.
“I think it’s time to look at life differently.”
“I’ll meet you at my Dad’s place. I’m going to drop Bee off at his house first.”
“Okay,” I reply. “See you there.”
I’m waiting in the parking lot when West pulls up beside me. I’m not sure why I feel nervous about being seen with him. Everyone knows he was going to be my brother-in-law.
I follow him inside the restaurant and notice it’s pretty full considering it’s probably only locals. The smell of coffee and pancakes fills my nostrils, and not like it does when I walk into McDonalds. This is a more homemade smell, probably because there’s a hint of something else baking and real bacon frying on a grill. My stomach rumbles when I try to imagine all the good things I’ll have to choose from, like real potatoes instead of a hash brown. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some fried formed semi resemblance of what was once a potato, but nothing beats real home fries or better yet, potatoes with onions and peppers, which happens to be on the first person’s plate I’m able to see. If I wasn’t trying to be discreet I’d lick my lips to keep my saliva from dripping out. It’s like I’m a child going into a candy store for the first time. All my life I had a mother who cooked us three meals. Both of us girls were spoiled. We got everything we asked for, especially me being the youngest. I probably took advantage of it more than Brice, but they seemed happy to oblige. I’m thankful for my car. It’s the only big thing I have, and it’s been a blessing when I had to spend the night in it to avoid going back to my house.
West walks right up and begins speaking to his father. I recognize his brother Dane standing behind the hostess station. He looks like he might be changing up a set of menus with new ones. He gives me a second’s glance like I’m familiar, but goes back to what he’s doing. Maybe I’m just overreacting about feeling as if everyone will judge me.
West leads us over to a booth that looks out on Main Street. He has two of the older menus in his hand and slides one in my direction. “What would you like to drink?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Coffee is fine.”
“Well, you can have the coffee, but you’re getting some juice too. You’re too thin.”
“I feel fine.”
“You look like you could wear child sized clothes, Kimber. For once listen.”
I still don’t understand why he’s being nice to me. Assuming it’s because of the stories I sent him, and this is a somewhat thank you, I do as he suggests. “Orange juice would be great.”
“Orange juice it is.” He stands up. “I’ll be right back. Figure out what you want so I can tell the guys in the back.”
I watch him walk away. He’s different, yet the same. He’s definitely changed. The smart mouthed boyfriend of my sister is now a forlorn man. He’s empty inside, and it’s easy for me to sympathize. I could probably force my way into my parent’s lives, but it’s not the same as feeling wanted. West misses Brice, just as much as I do, maybe even more. Perhaps that’s why he wants to be my friend. I’m the poor excuse of a consolation prize. I’m all that’s left of her.
A giant glass of orange juice is placed in front of me, with a bowl of fresh cut fruit. He takes a strawberry off the top before going back to his seat. “Did you decide what you want?”
“Am I allowed to choose, or should you decide what has the best nutrients?” I say in a smart way to get a rise out of him.
He smirks. At least it’s something. “Pick whatever you want. The menu changes today to prepare for the tourist season, so you’re getting the full selection. Take advantage of it. Aside from Mr. Paul’s this is the best breakfast on the island.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird your family still goes there for breakfast on the weekend?”
He shakes his head. “Have you had their food? It’s like an old magician lives in that kitchen. Plus, we don’t offer creamed chipped beef.”
Mom used to make good chipped beef. Now I doubt she cooks at all. Last time I spoke to her she was going on a cruise with her church friends. Her new apartment is a one bedroom within walking distance of the church she belongs to. Apparently when she left the island she changed congregations. Mom never really did anything on her own, so in a lot of ways this is her first time being independent. In some ways I’m happy that she’s able to move forward with her life. I know she’s burdened by the memories, but she does what she can. I, on the other hand, remain in limbo.
“I’ll have the chocolate chip pancakes with scrapple and a side of potatoes with onions and peppers.”
West almost chokes as he takes the first sip of his coffee. “That was easy. Do you need a shovel while you’re at it?”
I flash him a wicked grin and sneer like he’s annoying. Then a smile forms across my face. We’ve never spent time alone together. I already knew he was a great guy, but now I’m seeing little reasons why Brice loved him. “I’m sure a fork will suffice.”
He gets back up and heads into the kitchen to place our order. It’s cute how he’s our waiter. When
he returns he slides back into the seat opposite mine. “Order’s in.”
“You say it like you work here.”
“I do. When I’m around,” he corrects.
“You’ve only been here a day and already you’re thinking of leaving again?”
He shrugs. I can tell he’s conflicted. “It’s been harder than I anticipated.”
“You must be talking about the house.”
West nods. He folds his hands on the table and stares down at them as he speaks. “I tried to go in.”
I shouldn’t interfere, but I feel as if maybe we could help each other. “We could try again after breakfast, that’s if you want company. I mean, it’s hard for me too, but I did it once. Maybe you just need some support the first time.”
He eats another piece of fruit, but tosses a grape at me because I haven’t touched them. “Let’s see if we can make it through breakfast without wanting to kill one another.”
I snicker. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
It’s awkwardly quiet for a few minutes. I snack on the fruit, while West gets up and chats with people who haven’t seen him in forever. I notice Dane and one of the twins giving him a hug and once over. They’re teasing him about the facial hair he’s yet to totally remove.
He’s getting on me about losing weight, yet I’m sure he’s down at least twenty pounds. He’s skinny. It makes him look younger, not unhealthy.
I sip at my coffee and finish my orange juice by the time he brings breakfast to the table. Staring at the amount of food I have to eat, I gulp and bring my gaze to meet his. His smile lets me know he’s going to make me eat everything. “It’s a lot.”
“Dig in, kiddo. Save room for dessert,” he says with a wink.
I’m almost too queasy to start.
Chapter 23
Weston
I know she’s not Brice. Kimber couldn’t be Brice if she tried, and I don’t mean that negatively. I just mean they’re different people. Brice was an overachiever, while Kimber is more laid back. She just goes with the flow, even if she ends up at a crap motel waiting on assholes for the rest of her life.
Waves of Despair: Oyster Cove Series Page 13
