Summer Ever After

by M. C. Cerny

  “Well, don’t be. I’m sure the flashy California girl can take care of herself.” Muttering, I watch Maddie put her hands on her hips as if I had something to do with this rather untimely development.

  “Roman,” she warns.

  “I gathered that’s who the douche-canoe was. Tell me something I don’t know.” Stepping closer to me, Maddie yanks on my ear before I can pull away. “Oww! Oww! All right! What?” I yell at the sharp pain as she brings me to heel, dragging me toward my deck.

  “Look, stupid.” Maddie releases my ear, which I gently cup my hand over and step away from the harridan. Looking out across the beach and dune way, I see she’s pointing toward the cottage.

  “I’m looking. Now what?” I have a newfound aggravation. I don’t want to think about that prick anywhere near Abby, even if I don’t know the details of their relationship. I can tell he isn’t making her happy. A perverse part of me hopes he can smell me on her bedsheets. That is the only thing making me smile at the moment, until I frown, hoping he doesn’t get near the bedsheets to begin with.

  Maddie glowers at me and makes like she might smack me upside the head, forcing me to shy away from her. It’s a wonder I take the beating from her as I look back out at the beach from behind the heavy drapes lining the open windows on my deck.

  “Wait for it, dear.” Maddie stands there with her arms crossed over her chest, and we wait and wait and wait. Once a solid ten minutes pass, I turn around and go back into my kitchen. I open the fridge and pull out a cold beer, slamming the door shut. I don’t care what time it is—I need this. “I thought for sure… I was so positive that…” Maddie looks stunned and as upset as I’m feeling on the inside. “Oh, Roman, I’m so sorry, my boy. I thought for sure he was coming to break up with her.”

  “He could have called her from LA.” I chug the beer down pissed off wiping my mouth clean before crinkling the can and tossing it in the recycle bin.

  “I suppose.” She fidgets and I know she means well, heck she even warned me to stay away, but I didn’t listen.

  “It wasn’t meant to be, that’s all.” Attempting to brush it all off, I shrug my shoulders and pick up the paper, pretending to read the local articles. I’m waiting for Maddie to leave me in peace until my next job in town forces me to leave my house. I feel heavy and bloated by pain I didn’t think I could feel for Abigail. From now on, I’ve hardened my heart once again. Spoiled LA brats have no place in my life.

  ABIGAIL

  Feeling hot and drained from my trek up the dune to the cottage, I pace, trying to cool off in the air conditioning. “I’m not doing this with you, Lucas.” I’m pretty sure I’m making the right decision, but my headache is getting worse by the minute.

  “I just figured you’d need some time—that’s why I said what I did. You’re really blowing this out of proportion. I can’t believe you assumed we were breaking up. Babe, seriously?” Lucas stomps around the cottage, ignoring me as we avoid physical contact with each other. I’m speechless about this whole situation. His linen lounge outfit seems a bit ridiculous for the Pacific Northwest and the differences between Lucas and Roman loom in the realm of football fields of distance.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, you totally bailed on me coming up here in the first place, and now you show up out of the blue. I just don’t know what to think.” As I cross my arms over my chest, Lucas looks at me, shaking his head, eyes narrowed, assessing. It’s his expression saying he somehow finds me lacking that sends my level of frustration to nuclear. Argh! He opens the refrigerator and turns back to give me a knowing look—like I failed at this too.

  “Damn, Abs, not even a decent beer or wine in here?” I cringe when he uses that nickname, like I’m supposed to just give in. I hear bottles clink together when he slams the door shut.

  “Sorry, I’ve been busy.” Muttering, I try willing away this headache, which should be named Lucas-the-never-ending hurricane. I slouch down onto a loveseat in the living room before looking up. Nope, he’s still here, and a groan come from me.

  “Obviously,” he snarks, and I wonder if our once placid relationship will spiral into something ugly—probably, because now I just don’t feel like complying and making nice.

  I lean over as the pain builds, holding my head in my hands. “You know what? Just leave. Now.” I can’t do this with him. I don’t want to. What I really want is outside this cottage and probably pissed as hell at me.

  “Excuse me?” I can see his feet standing in front of me and his overpowering cologne mixes with the sweet smell of ocean and freedom.

  “I think you heard me, Lucas. I don’t typically stutter statements of fact. I don’t even want to pretend to do this anymore.” The pain inside my head spurns me to continue through with it. My resolve to be free of him renews Go me!

  “What the fuck, Abs? I just drove an entire day damn it to work this out with you. Please, Abigail.” Speaking softly, Lucas leans down on his haunches and uses his hand to lift my chin.

  “I’m sorry you wasted your time then,” but what I’m most sorry about is the time I wasted, though I say nothing more.

  For a second I almost contemplate giving in, and then my phone rings. “Don’t answer that,” he says, and I see him dart his eyes around nervously.

  Ignoring him, I walk over to where I’d dropped my purse and take out my phone, which has rung three times now. One more and it will go to voicemail, so I pick it up. “It’s Leah,” I tell him. He spins around, not looking at me as I answer her call. “Hey, Leah, what’s going on?”

  My sister and I are not particularly close for a plethora of reasons, one being her general disdain of me. “Is your boyfriend there?” Leah’s icy greeting lacks a hello or a ‘hey how are you, sister, who up and left LA in the dead of the morning?’ Yeah, we’re not terribly close. She takes after my dad and doesn’t rank on my list of people to regularly confide in.

  Distracting Leah into talking about her self-absorbed self might work. “Uh, I’m not sure what you mean, Leah. What’s going on? Is everything okay with dad? I heard you got a new case to work on.” Not that I wanted to talk about dad or work, but I want to talk to Miss Judgmental about Lucas even less. I feel this weird pit in my stomach when Lucas finally turns to look at me. I didn’t think anyone knew about our relationship, the one we tried so hard to keep quiet and professional.

  “Oh come on, we all know you and Lucas are together,” she says with disgust. “Just put him on the phone.” Leah has a hardness that’s just typical for her. I come from a family of hard-asses, but she kind of takes the cake. Sighing, I hand the phone to Lucas. I guess I don’t have to worry about explaining to my dad why I’m seeing someone who works at the firm now. Or was seeing, considering how this is all blowing up in my face currently. So much for easing them into this. I’m not sure if the disappointment will be in my secret-keeping or because Lucas wasn’t born into my dad’s golf club.

  “Leah wants to talk to you.” Lucas takes the phone from my numb fingers and walks outside. I hear some yelling and I’m confused by his demeanor and even more so when he comes back inside and is racing around picking up things like his wallet and car keys. “Lucas, what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “It’s complicated, Abs.” He seems to be in his own little world and our relationship troubles are quickly dismissed.

  “Complicated, how?” Even more curious is this whole situation.

  “Your dad has me working on a case with Leah and things are… intense. I left a shit-ton of unfinished work to come up here, just for you.” Lucas doesn’t look at me and I know. I just know. Fuck him and his lectures, making me feel guilty about whatever was happening with Roman on our ‘break.’ Intense my ass. Lucas has always been and always will be a shitty liar. It’s one of the reasons he could never bluff through a discussion on the debate team.

  “Intense how?” I don’t want to think about this. My stomach is rolling.

  “Abs, let it go and just come home,
please. We can work things out at home.” Lucas cares more about moving up in the world, and now I see it.

  “If we could work things out,” and I mean this in theory, “we could do it here. Why at home?” I finally piece together his reserve over the phone and the fewer text messages. Lucas was punishing me for following through with my plans and coming here, but he was already working his own agenda. Without me. I now wonder if Leah’s attitude was more about her thinking she was ‘slumming it’ rather than stealing her sister’s boyfriend. It wouldn’t be the first time Leah Holliday, sister of the year, screwed me over. It’s hard to imagine we come from the same family.

  “I know my sister is like a pit bull, but surely that’s not a reason for me to come home. Certainly not at this point,” I try distancing myself from him, but Lucas comes around the couch. Backing away, I hold my hands up. “I’m not even working the case with you two.”

  “Isn’t that the point?” He’s harsh and demeaning when he says it.

  “No. Don’t say it. I can’t hear this. Just leave. Please just go. Get away from me.”

  “Abs, look at it this way: now we’re even and everything can go back to normal. It was something that just happened over a culmination of late nights, client dinners, and us being separated, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Incredulous is the only word that comes to my mind right now. They could have been doing this for a while and nobody would have found out. Heck, Lucas and I did it for three years with none the wiser and all because we kept the PDA at home behind closed doors. “So you slept with my sister? Correct?” Sharp pain shoots behind my eye but I have to know.

  “Don’t tell me blood is thicker than water.” Lucas has no sense of morality and while I’m not one to talk at least I struggle with the decision.

  “I’ll deal with my sister later. Explain it to me.”

  “It’s like ordering Chinese takeout.” Open mouthed, I watch Lucas try to explain himself out of this one. “It’s something to do, but it never satisfies the hunger.” I’m blown away by his nonchalance over his behavior when he was so ready to crucify me for something that hadn’t even occurred between Roman and me. I’d only thought about it fleetingly; I never actually did it.

  “So what you did is like ordering food you didn’t want but can’t give back?” I’m trying to follow his logic, but it’s painful and shoddy at best.

  “She’s angry I left and drove up here.” He paces away from me.

  “Uh, I’m angry you drove up here too, but for a whole other set of reasons!” I’m yelling and the effort slices pain through my head making my vision double.

  “Abs, it’s not like that.”

  “Oh, I bet it is. Did you think we were like a two-for-one deal?” My voice is thick and laced with sarcasm.

  Asshole rolls his eyes and mutters, “I will just tell Leah I can’t be with her after the trial is finished.” Lucas takes a step closer and I feel close to one of those hysterical screams you only see in the movies. I don’t know if I’m angry, hurt, or relieved.

  “Finished? After?” I’m reeling and Lucas only nods like he came up with the greatest idea ever. “I can’t wrap my head around your fucked-up reasoning. I don’t care if you just got here. I don’t even care how long you and Leah were doing whatever the fuck you’re calling it. You need to leave. Now.”

  “Abigail, Abby, Abs, come on,” he practically whines, using every godforsaken nickname he can think of, holding out his hand. The pounding in my head is unbearable. “Just shut up and listen to me.” I hate being told to shut up, and for some reason, that boils my blood worse than anything else he could have said in the past five minutes.

  “Huh?” I’m relegated to these stupid one-word answers with him, but damn it, he keeps digging his own hole, and I’m not even asking him questions. I can’t believe he’s actually a lawyer at the same firm. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry over the tragedy.

  “Shut up, Abby, and listen to me,” he tries again, walking toward me. I feel like this could quickly escalate if I don’t use my trump card to get him to back the fuck off.

  “Uh, no. This is not happening, Lucas. Get the fuck out before I call the police and ruin whatever career you think you have with my dad’s firm.” Lucas hardens his stance, and I wonder if it will come to that.

  “Your dad assigned me this case. He knows I’ll get the win.” He steps into my personal space snarling.

  I stand my ground, hitting low because that’s the only way Lucas functions. “Only because he doesn’t know you’re banging both his daughters. He cares more about his reputation than us. I know how much my daddy hates social climbers,” I say in a syrup-sweet voice, mocking him because it stalls the burn of his betrayal just slightly. Just when I think I might have to actually call the police, he finally leaves. “Well, that was fucking eye-opening,” I mutter to the empty cottage, sighing heavily and moving back around the couch to slide down on it prostrate. Of course, when my headache resumes in full force I stay there for the next two days—since I don’t have my medication—and I’m forced to wait out the pain. Suffering will build my character, I tell myself, my dad’s words echoing in my swollen brain. The good news is I don’t even shed a tear for the asshole I wasted three years on.

  Chapter Seven

  ROMAN

  The next few days are spent exercising demons by cleaning my dad’s house top to bottom. I consider leaving right away that night and going back to Seattle and back to work, but a masochistic part of me wants to see Abby one last time. Maddie says she checked on Abby, but she refused to leave the cottage. Maddie left her alone for the time being once she said she wasn’t hurt or needed anything. Maddie was sure to tell me douche-canoe Lucas left about as quick as he came, driving his flashy car right over the bridge and back down the coast from whence he came. I even might have heard a certain police lieutenant pulled him over and issued him a summons for speeding and careless driving in Gold Beach. I’m pretty sure Maddie had something to do with that, but I don’t ask those questions.

  I decide to give it another few days before I pack things in. Maddie doesn’t press me to stay anymore, but when I call the office in Seattle, I still don’t have any fires to put out, which is good and bad, because now I don’t have a reason to leave. I’m just hanging out in limbo. Fucking limbo.

  My latest prototype boat is ready to go and is being built at the shop. There’s literally nothing for me to do but wait. I figure since my friends just had their baby, the least I could do is help out. I offer to wait tables for them at the café so they can enjoy time with their new creation and the days pass slowly.

  “Hey, table for one?” I recognize the voice behind me, but I keep wiping down the table I’ve cleared. I don’t care he’s left; she took her damn sweet time coming around.

  I huff my breath, letting her know she’s not welcome here. “I don’t think we have anything here you’d like, Hollywood,” I say sarcastically. I don’t want to look at her and it takes some effort not turning around.

  “LA. I’m from LA, Roman. The land of pop princesses and bitchy lawyers,” her voice soft, and not in her usual bitch snark I’ve grown accustomed to.

  “Hmph.” I let it go and continue working. I wonder how far she’ll press this. I imagine her fingers dance over the tabletop as she speaks playfully, adjusting her silverware like she did before.

  “Funny, ‘cause I hear I’ve been missing out on the best turkey avocado sandwich this side of the Rocky mountains.” Her voice does that damn thing to me I hate and love. I feel a twitch of arousal, making me want to curse her.

  “Well, we’re out of avocado.” Shrugging, I make her work for it. I feel a hard thump on my back and hear something fall to the floor and roll under my feet. It’s a fucking avocado. The brat actually threw one at me. “Damn Maddie.” I pick it up and toss it into the air, catching it. I hold it tightly because part of me would like to grab something or someone else just as tight, but I don’t.

&nb
sp; “She told me you’d say that, so I brought my own.” Abby’s voice cracks slightly. I turn around and get a good look at the woman who’s tormented me these past few weeks. She looks thinner and paler, as if she spent a month out of the sun, not just a few days. Her hair falls in loose curls around her face and her clear blue eyes don’t shine with the brightness of our first meetings. I can see she’s sad. The pang in my chest hates she’s sad, and I hope her past is less of an issue now.

  “I’m still mad at you,” I inform her. Walking closer to me, she grabs my table rag from my hand, throwing it on the table behind me. She takes the avocado from the other, placing it much more gently down—as if throwing it hadn’t bruised the tender flesh like she did the inside of my heart, but I won’t admit to that.

  “I still kinda hate men right now, so I don’t think we have much to worry about.” She smiles shyly and, damn, it if isn’t cute.

  “That’s kind of a pity.” I rebuke her, but she’s not her usual mouthy self and I’m curious.

  Shaking her head, she takes another step and I back up one. “I mean, we barely know anything about each other.” She reaches out, her small hand as if to let her fingertips graze my chest.

  I take her hand and gently remove her fingers. They’re too close to my heart and the crazy shit she does to me emotionally. “We’re not compatible at all,” I maintain, shaking my head.

  “Nope. Not one bit.” Abby bites her bottom lip and takes a step closer to me.

  “I mean, look at what happened before. Totally wrong to even consider it.” I take a step back and my brat follows me in our dangerous dance. She leans up on her tiptoes and plants a chaste kiss on my cheek. Those fingers dance over my heart, and through my shirt a heat builds from her simple touch.

  “You could say thank you, you know.” Brat is using my words against me, and slowly my armor cracks, deep fractures let her slip inside to take root. Argh!

  “For what, your obnoxious attitude?” I make the countermove, recalling how much she disliked me on sight that day on the beach.