Return to Cheshire Bay

by H. M. Shander

  “I’d give you a beer, but…” His eyes fell to my tummy.

  “This works.” I wandered through his living room, staring at all the pictures hanging on the walls and those set on neatly stacked bookshelves. “How’s your family doing?”

  There was a tri-fold frame with a younger version of Eric on one side, his older brother on the other, and a sweet pic of his parents in the middle. Based on the ages of the boys, and that teenage awkwardness, I pegged the pictures to be at least fifteen years old.

  God, we had it good, and we didn’t even know it. Life was so much easier back then.

  “Mom’s good. Living the high life in Arizona with my step-dad.”

  I searched his face when I heard the hurt in his voice and walked back over to the kitchen. “Awe. I had no idea they split.”

  Mind you, I really hadn’t been keeping up with what was going on around these parts.

  “They didn’t.” His face fell. “Dad died six years ago.”

  I rested my weary butt on one of the stools around his bar-height table. “Geez, that sucks. I’m sorry for your loss. Were you close?”

  A weathered expression filled his face and dulled the shine in his eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Aww, I’m really sorry. That’s rough.”

  “Yep, so I know what you’re going through. It’s not easy.” He passed me an empty plate. “Sorry, it’s nothing fancy, just pulled pork sandwiches and salad. And I only threw in the salad because I figured you needed your nutrients.”

  It was cute, and a small smile leaked out unsuspecting from my lips. “That’s very nice. And this looks delicious.”

  Following Eric’s movements, I opened a huge hamburger bun and piled on the sweet-smelling pork onto one half. Closing it up, I scooped out some runny coleslaw onto my plate.

  “You good if we eat out on the deck?”

  “Sounds delightful.” Where my deck was completely open aired, Eric’s had been screened, so it allowed all the fresh air minus the little flying pests that always seemed to come out when there was food around. I sat in one of the Adirondack chairs and took a bite of my sandwich. It was heavenly. “This is really good.”

  “I’ll take it as a high compliment.”

  There was an uncurrent of a tone, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was.

  “So, since I dropped all my drama on your lap, why don’t you tell me your story.” I took another bite.

  “I have no story.”

  I found that hard to believe. Everyone had a story. Everyone had a past. I swallowed down my bite before speaking. “I don’t buy it.”

  “Why not?” He faced me and took a long pull from his bottle.

  I shrugged. “Because I can’t believe that you… Well…” Whatever was going to follow that, likely was going to come across as rude, so I closed my mouth. “What made you come back and live here permanently? You were a city dweller in summers past.”

  “Got tired of the hustle and bustle, and a life that was always go-go-go.”

  I was a city girl, born and raised, who only came to the beach in the summer. Go-go-go was just how life was. “The city, especially in the winter, has so much to offer. There’s always the theatre and museums and an endless array of activities to keep a person busy.”

  “Why does one have to be busy constantly to be fulfilled?”

  “Because they do.” It’s just what adults did - worked all the time, made a decent living, enjoyed life when they could.

  “You mean to tell me you can’t just sit here for hours staring out into that?” He pointed out to the endless horizon.

  Yes, the view was spectacular and soothing, but no, I couldn’t spend hours just staring. I’d need something to do – read a book at the bare minimum, but I was more likely to paint or work and glance at it occasionally. As it was, I hadn’t truly rested since I arrived. There was just always something that required my attention. I hadn’t even had a swim in the Pacific Ocean.

  “Nope. Not possible. For me, anyway.”

  “That’s why I’m not a guy who’s big on that kind of life. There was nothing beyond here that begged me to leave this all behind. After a day’s work, I can sit here and just enjoy the beauty of nature.”

  The Darth Vader theme marched right into the conversation. Damn you, Parker. As always, your timing stinks.

  I dug out my phone and flipped the switch to silent. He could call all night if he wanted, I wasn’t answering. See how he liked it. Jerk.

  “That same caller.” If there was a tsk on the tip of his tongue, it was gone in a flash.

  I sighed and took a sip of my water. “It’s my ex.”

  Eric faced me, his gaze landing on the phone. “The baby daddy?”

  A slow bob followed.

  “Does he know you’re here?”

  “The only person who knows the actual location is Beth, my best friend. My other besties know I’m at my summer home, but they don’t know where that is.”

  “And this ex?” Was worry woven into his words?

  “He doesn’t know the location either. It was never brought up.”

  It was best if Parker didn’t know that part of my life, so it never came up in conversation. In the brief time we dated, we never visited my summer home, and the words Cheshire Bay never left my lips. There weren’t even memories of it hanging in the apartment. As far as Parker knew, my life began at twenty when I finally went to college.

  “He knows about the baby, right?”

  “Oh yeah. Cleared out his drawer the next day and left.”

  Eric laughed, a sweet, gentle sound that matched the roll of the ocean waves. “His drawer?”

  “For when he spent the night. Still had his place, just mine was nicer. Not quite a shrine to the Marvel and DC Comics and Lord of the Rings art deco.”

  “You were dating a nerd?” His laugh grew in strength.

  “Why is that funny?”

  He wiped the smile off with a cupping of his hand. “Well, when you were here last, you were, well…”

  I hung my head in shame. “Yeah. I was into the bad boys, I know.”

  “The badder, the better.” The words slipped out so easily.

  I flipped my gaze back to the ocean, a river of hurt coursing through my veins. “That was a long time ago.”

  “I know.”

  My resolve faltered, but my tone was clipped. “People change.”

  “I know that too.”

  His plate rocked on the tiny table when he set it down, but I didn’t turn his way. I wanted to get up and storm away but figured that was more in line with the way I was. As a grown adult, I liked to face my problems head on and deal with things. Except for the vibrating phone under my palm. Damn Parker. I needed to prepare for that battle.

  Eric cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to apologise for.”

  He shuffled in his chair and his foot scuffed over the floor. “I do. I invited you over for dinner and now I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’m a terrible host.”

  “If you can accept that my past is in my past and I can’t do anything about it, we’ll be just fine.” I needed one friend here while I holed up and hid, tail tucked between my legs, as Beth would say.

  “I guess I was jealous, and that jealousy reared up.”

  “Jealous?” I twisted to face him and arched an eyebrow. “What were you jealous of?”

  “Your life. Your outlook. My parents were so strict, I didn’t attend many beach parties. And you, you were the life of every party. I wanted a girl like you, but girls like you don’t date nerds.”

  Which had been entirely true. Sad but true.

  “I’m sorry I treated you unfairly.” I scrapped a fingernail under the wrapping on my water bottle.

  “You were never mean or anything. At least not to me or London.”

  A smidgen, a very small sprinkle of it, settled over me.

  Eric patted my arm. “Don’t worry about it. Like you said, people cha
nge and we’re adults now.”

  “Yes, we are. Complete with adult responsibilities and all the stuff our parents warned us about.” That made him giggle, and I was happy to hear it. It meant the evening wasn’t a total bust. “Tell me about your job. Being a pilot must be so interesting.”

  The grandest smile stretched from ear to ear. “There was a fundraiser going on a few years back, and they had a win a flight around the island. I entered and won. I was so excited, I talked non-stop, and the pilot suggested I look into lessons, and one thing led to another. So… I worked my butt off on the docks to save up money for flight school. Besides, it’s a better way to travel.” A peaceful glow filled his face. “Up in the sky, that’s my happy place.”

  “That’s awesome. It really is. Good for you doing what you love.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m still working on figuring that part out.” I had loved my job as a Regional Manager of a national fast food company, but not so much Parker, as deep down, I knew he wasn’t the one. I was better off without him, even if I had extra responsibilities because of it.

  “Let me know if I can help.”

  He sat there in silence for a few heartbeats while my phone continued its incessant vibrations. Didn’t Parker have anything better to do? Leave a message for crying out loud.

  “I’m going to grab another beer. Want anything else to drink?”

  “I’m good.” I rose, picked up our plates, and helped clean the kitchen. “Thanks for dinner. I really appreciated it.”

  It was nice to have someone else decide what to eat, and I didn’t have to try and figure out what to create that didn’t come out of a cooler while I waited for a new fridge to arrive. Sandwiches were starting to bore me as I couldn’t make them as well as the deli around the corner from my apartment did. Damn, they were tasty, and I could eat a mean BLT right about now.

  “Anytime. It’s nice to have someone to eat with.”

  “I agree.” I caught a shy smile forming on his lips, but it disappeared before I could capture it to memory.

  Eric walked me to the door and tipped his head toward the pile of wood stacked by the entrance. “What’s with the plywood sheets?”

  “I need to refloor the upstairs deck.”

  “I never pegged you for a handyman, or handywoman.”

  I placed my hand on my hip and pouted the cutest way I knew how. “It can’t be that hard. Pull up the old boards, nail in the new ones. Stain. Lay out a carpet and voila.”

  He laughed. “Okay, Bob Villa. That sounds about right.” There was something charming about the way he said it. “Call me if you need an extra set of hands.”

  “I’ll hold you to it, even if just to laugh as I make an ass out of myself.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  And a plan with Eric and his easy going way was something I could get behind.

  Chapter Five

  Beth texted me a picture of a lovely panoramic for the living room that I just had to have, and I lifted my phone above the bookcase I was currently painting in the light of day. She had a gift, as from the tiny image, it appeared to match perfectly with the colour schemes. I approved her choice and without much else said, she mentioned it would be sent ASAP. She was also going to bring out some other staging materials and prep for a quick photo op, but only stay for one night.

  I rolled my eyes since she hadn’t given me a date at all, but at least it would be a visit. I missed my friend.

  I went back to painting the top inside of the bookcase when a knock sounded on my door.

  “Just a second,” I hollered back, hopped down off the stepladder, and turned down the music. “Yes?”

  A strange man from the hardware store stood at my door. “Lily Davies?” He read my name off the clipboard and ran his gaze up and down my body. After I stopped visiting Cheshire Bay, I changed my name to my mother’s maiden name.

  “Yes.”

  He tipped his head to the side and stared at me hard, a look of recognition blooming as it clicked. “Wait a sec, you’re Lily Baker. Miss Long Beach 2003. I used to have the calendar. Oh my god. The guys will go wild when they find out.”

  Not one of my finest moments, but I refused to go there. At least the calendar raised money for a local charity, so it wasn’t a complete joke.

  “Can I help you?”

  “It’s me, Josh.”

  The name didn’t ring a bell. At all. Even as I tried remembering if I’d ever seen his face before. The kid looked a few years younger than me.

  “Josh Mulaney?” His voiced cracked with excitement. “I worked at Scoops.”

  “Oh, hi.” The name, swirling with weak memories of him and his buddies around a campfire smoking weed floated into my brain, as did the other, more unpleasant ones. The dancing. The kissing. The sex. I shuddered.

  His eyes settled on my bump, and suddenly he was all business, which admittedly, was perfectly okay by me. “I’m here to deliver your fridge and haul the old one away.”

  “Finally. Wasn’t that supposed to arrive yesterday?”

  Island time was a whole different ballgame, but still. I had been expecting this to arrive at least twenty-four hours ago.

  I stepped aside. “I’ve cleared a path.”

  Now it was time to make myself scarce, and I grabbed an apple to munch on the deck while Josh did his work.

  When all was said and done, he passed me the work order and his card.

  “If you’d like to join our Canada Day Bash, my number is on the back. The guys and I are always up for a good time.” The wink he gave me made me uncomfortable, and I took a step back.

  I waved the card. “Well, thank you.”

  He tipped his hat and headed back outside.

  I closed and locked the door, gagging at the thought of being thirty and slutty. My past was in the past. Who I was at fifteen and sixteen was a far cry from who I am now. Maybe coming to the beach house was a bad idea.

  Hours later, after verifying my new fridge was cooling properly, I went to the grocery store just off the strip and selected a wide variety of perishables and dairy products, while simultaneously trying to ignore the whispers, most of which came from people I didn’t recognise. Why hadn’t I physically changed as much as everyone else had? At the bare minimum, I should’ve dyed my hair to a dark brown instead of leaving it the sun-kissed blonde it had always been.

  Every aisle, there was another snide remark.

  I told you she was back.

  Wonder what’s she doing here, thought we made it clear she wasn’t welcome.

  Tramp.

  Look at her, all knocked up. Getting what she deserves. Heard her husband left her. What trash.

  I ignored them or at least didn’t give them any indication I’d been privy to their comments, even if some of it was inaccurate. He was my ex-boyfriend, not my ex-husband, but in the grand scheme of things, I was still on my own.

  I set my groceries by the cashier, who looked at me as if I’d just sprouted two horns and spit all over my items.

  “Thought it was you.” There was so much vitriol in her voice.

  Her nametag read Kim, and all I pictured was Jordan’s older sister, but the ages didn’t seem to match up. That Kim was my age, a goodie-two-shoes like Mona, but the person before me seemed at least ten years older.

  I continued to stack my items on one end and raced to the other side to bag them, since she was piling them up. Rather than make a scene, I loaded the three bags back into my cart and handed her my credit card.

  “No credit. Cash only.” She rolled her eyes and turned her nose up like a putrid smell rolled off me.

  Since when? I checked the sign hanging above to verify I hadn’t stepped into a cash only line. I hadn’t. “I don’t have that much cash.”

  “Then put something back.”

  A line formed behind me.

  “Are you sure you won’t accept the credit card?” I lifted it again to show her.

  “I said cash on
ly.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest.

  I dug through my purse, coming up with about half of what I needed.

  The guy in line directly behind me sighed.

  I apologised profusely and started pulling items out of my bag, things I didn’t need tonight at least. I’d come back later for them. One by one, Kim slowly deducted them off the bill, giving me a total I had the right cash for. I handed her the bills.

  She took each and ran a blacklight over them. “Checking for counterfeit.”

  For crying out loud.

  I wanted to scream, but instead, I bit my tongue to the point where I drew blood. She dropped the change into my hand, which I barely caught, and tossed my receipt. Even if I wanted to explain I wasn’t responsible for Jordan’s death, as his death had been ruled non-criminal and an accident, I held back. Swallowing the pity I had for her as she clearly wasn’t going to let it go, I simply picked up the paper and tucked it into my bag.

  I wasn’t ten feet away when the guy behind me spoke. “Who the hell was that?”

  “Lily Baker.”

  “She’s back?”

  “Bitch can go to hell.”

  I froze for a heartbeat but kept walking out to my jeep. It wasn’t until I pulled in front of my house that I allowed the dam to break, and the tears to flood. A part of me wanted to call the manager and voice a complaint, but I wasn’t sure what that would accomplish, except put another target on my back. I rested my head against the steering wheel, giving into the feelings. As I reached for a tissue, I spotted Eric waving.

  I sent a half-hearted wave back in his direction.

  He pointed and gestured via sign language asking if I was okay.

  Wiping my eyes, I hopped out. “Sorry, just having a girl moment. Pregnancy hormones and all.”

  His brows pinched together, and he walked over. “Really? That’s some hormones.”

  A glance at my reflection was enough to confirm and agree. My eyes were puffy and red. I was not one of those girls who cried pretty. Every cry turned me into an ugly disaster, and the raccoon eyes didn’t help. I ran my fingers under my eyes and wiped away the moisture and blackness. Walking to the back of the Jeep, I lifted the end gate and grabbed a bag. “I’m fine, honestly.”