by Anne Conley
Giggling, Bree did as suggested, then turned to Grace. "You want to come shopping tomorrow? We're having a sale." Bree worked at one of the clothing boutiques on the Strand. It had upscale clothing at tourist prices.
"No, I've gotta save, especially if we can't find a roommate."
"Oh yeah, forgot about that." She looked dejected.
"I'll come out anyway, and we can have lunch or something, if you want." Bree's face brightened perceptibly at that. Grace shook her head, chuckling. Bree was so transparent with her emotions.
Nicole shifted her body, so that she was facing Grace. "Brad told us you had a save today. You okay?" Her wide, blue eyes filled with concern, and Grace knew that her friends were worried about her. They always were.
"Yeah. It's part of the job." Her appetite disappeared again, and Grace swallowed her bite of shrimp past the lump that suddenly formed in her throat, before boxing her food back up.
"But you still think about Alex, every time, don't you?" Nicole's normally brassy voice had softened.
"Of course I do, and I'll dream about him tonight, and tomorrow will be a new day, and life will go on for everybody else." Except Alex, she thought. Alex will never know another day.
Nicole rubbed her thigh reassuringly, and Bree mimicked the motion on her other leg, and Grace felt content knowing that her two best friends were by her side.
"I have to work the night shift this weekend, but I work lunches next weekend. Why don't we go dancing then?" Nicole sounded excited by the idea.
Bree squealed in delight. "We haven't been dancing in ages!"
Grace had to admit, dancing with the girls sounded like a lot of fun. "Yeah. That would be great." She smiled at her friends. They knew that dressing up and going out always made her feel better.
Except Alex would never get to get dressed up and go dancing.
She squashed the thought and sat back to watch the rest of the movie with her girlfriends.
Chapter Three
The next week, Grace entered her home after work to find a box of sangria on the kitchen counter next to a grocery bag full of various fruits, a bag of chocolates, and two boxes of brownie mix.
“Uh oh…” She said to herself under her breath. Stomping could be heard from Nicole’s room. Grace got busy cutting up oranges.
When Nicole finally came out of her room, Grace turned to her. “Are we pissed or sad?”
“Pissed,” Nicole growled at her.
“What happened? Or do you want to wait for Bree to come home?”
“I’m making brownies first.”
“You want a drink while you work?”
Nicole nodded while she grunted, and Grace pulled wine glasses down from the cabinet. She put some orange wedges in them, added some maraschino cherries and a couple of strawberries, before pouring the wine over the top and setting one in front of Nicole.
Bree chose that moment to come in the door, and Grace intercepted her.
“Don’t say anything yet. Nic’s in a mood. Something’s happened. Here.” She handed the wide-eyed girl her drink and went back into the kitchen to make another. “Bree’s home.”
“Good. I only have to tell the story once.” Nicole put the double-batch of brownies into the oven, picked up her glass and drank half of it, pulling out an orange to nibble on. “Let’s go into the living room.”
When they got there, Bree had already changed from her work clothes and was sitting on the futon with an expectant expression on her face, not saying anything.
Bree and Grace knew that Nicole’s moods were infamous, and they loved her anyway. They were an unlikely trio, having been brought together through circumstances of need.
Grace had met Bree her first year of college, when she’d run across a bulletin board posting from a fellow freshman needing rides to class in exchange for gas money. Grace had been captivated by the girl’s naiveté, coupled with her eternally positive outlook, and they’d become fast friends.
Nicole had trained Grace at the restaurant she currently worked in, one year when she was saving up enough money to go back to school after her finances had run out. Nicole was the one who’d suggested the three girls room together in order to save money. Her cynicism seemed to balance out Bree’s eternal sunshine, and the three lived surprisingly well together. It was the fourth roommate that always seemed to cause problems.
“Talk to us, Nic. What happened?” Bree’s voice was quiet.
“I’m fixing to get fired. Bastard’s looking for a reason, just because I won’t go out with him.” Nicole started to get up to refill her empty glass, but Grace interrupted her movements.
“I’ll get it, keep talking.” She could hear from the kitchen, and she went ahead and grabbed a pitcher, added the fruit to the bottom, and opened the tap in the box of wine to pour it over the fruit.
“I told y’all about how he asked me out a couple of weeks ago, right?” Both girls nodded. Her boss was married with kids, and he’d not really asked Nicole out. He’d asked her to meet him at a local motel during her lunch break.
“Well, every since then, he’s been ‘catching’ me doing stuff wrong. He goes around behind me and criticizes everything I do, whether I’m not cleaning the tables well enough, using the right size tray for the order, or not putting the tomatoes in the right position on the salads.” She grasped the drink that Grace offered her and took a long drink, fishing out a strawberry to eat along with it. “Today, he got on to me for talking to a customer longer than I needed to get his order. And the restaurant was practically empty! It was three o’clock!”
“Bastard,” Grace muttered in a show of solidarity. She got up to check on the brownies.
Nicole sighed heavily. “We need another roommate fast. I don’t know how long I can keep this up before I kick his ass and lose my job.” Grace pulled the brownies from the oven and tossed the bag of chocolates to Bree, who opened them and offered them to Nicole.
Nicole took a handful gratefully and began unwrapping them, making two piles on the coffee table in front of her, one wrappers, one chocolate. She worked silently, sniffling loudly, though no tears actually fell.
Bree broke the silence. “I hate to say this, but if you weren’t so picky, we’d have a roommate already.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that. I just can’t stand the thought of another flake in here who only lasts a couple of months and then leaves us in the lurch again.” After having about six chocolates in her pile, she scooped them up and put them in her mouth. She swirled them around before taking a sip of wine and holding the mixture there to meld in her mouth. Grace watched with fascination. She’d tried the trick before, and it didn’t do anything for her. But Nicole swore the flavors mixed well together and induced a stress-reliever akin to sex.
Apparently it worked, because after a few minutes, Nicole swallowed. “Actually, the customer I got into trouble for talking to so long today is a candidate.”
Bree’s attention was piqued. “Do tell. What’s she like?”
“It’s a he.” Nicole held up her hand when Bree gasped. “Yes, he’s good looking, but you can’t fuck the roommates, Bree.” She continued. “He’s been hanging around for a couple of days. I’m not sure where he’s staying, but he seems nice enough. He’s a good tipper at any rate and doesn’t complain about the food. He’s not a picky orderer, doesn’t make substitutions, and always gets a salad.”
Grace couldn’t help herself as she asked with a smirk, “So that makes him a steadfast roommate?”
“No, but it shows a willingness to not want to rock the boat. He won’t come in and start making suggestions about how we do things around here. He probably won’t come in and re-arrange our kitchen like the last one did.”
“What does that matter? You still can’t remember the cereal is above the coffee pot.”
Nicole snorted in reply. “Yeah, well, he asked me today if I knew of anybody who needed a roommate, and I told him I would check around. I didn’t say we were looking.”
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“Well, we do need one. Rent’s coming up.”
“Yeah, I know. When he comes back tomorrow, if I still have a job, I’ll tell him.”
The next day, Grace had another save, this one a little boy who’d been on a floating raft next to his mother. She’d gotten distracted with the toddler she was holding and the boy had drifted off. Apparently, none of the family could swim and when Grace had towed the frightened boy back to shore, Mark had already been there, lecturing the mother on the benefits of Coast Guard approved floatation devices.
Lifeguards only worked one-hour shifts on the stand at a time, maximum of three shifts a day. They were interspersed with switchboard shifts, and other mundane tasks designed to keep the guards alert on the stand. After any save though, no matter how routine, guards were taken off stand duty for the rest of the day, minimum to alleviate any adrenaline crash that might occur.
That’s why Grace was just finishing her paperwork when her supervisor, Mark came in. He was a lifer, had been lifeguarding his entire life, though not always here in Galveston. When the city had started its lifeguard program, he'd been recruited from Mississippi. He wasn't older than forty, but his features were sun-worn, making them rugged, aging him prematurely. At first glance, he seemed like the quintessential beach bum, lifeguard shorts, tank top, perma-tan, bleached hair. But when he spoke, he had an air of superiority that few questioned.
"You did good work out there, today," he told her, as he shut the door behind him.
"Thanks."
"You're off this weekend, right?"
She nodded.
"Go ahead and take the rest of the day off, then. There's supposed to be a storm coming in, and I need everyone on duty to be in top shape. So get your ass home, and have a good weekend. Come back Monday ready to work." He turned and strode out of the room.
Grace snorted at his departure. Storm? The news was predicting the tropical storm would turn into a hurricane, if it hadn't already, and they had a tendency to wreak havoc. The hurricane wasn't supposed to hit Galveston, but they would get residual winds and rain, and if it got as big as the forecasters were predicting, the island would be in for some serious weather. If her past experience with Galveston's storms could be any indicator, there would actually be an influx of adrenaline junkies to the island, people who came down for the storms, to surf, swim, fish, and general endanger themselves. Arrogance in the face of Mother Nature. Grace hated it.
She wondered if she should call her mom. Grace's mother should care about her daughter's safety during something like this, but Grace was accustomed to emotional unavailability from Jeannie. She probably wouldn't call until after the storm. She really wasn't in the mood to talk about her mom's boyfriend. And Grace didn't want to open herself up to hurt feelings again when her mom seemed to care more about her own life and issues than Grace. Deciding against the phone call, she lay her head down on the desk and sighed.
The adrenaline rush that came with a save, usually led to an adrenaline crash. Lifeguards sometimes went into shock, if it involved particularly brutal circumstances. Grace was confident that today’s save wouldn’t cause a crash, just the regular nightmare, but she welcomed the afternoon off nonetheless.
She visited her locker before leaving, and walked outside to go to her truck. As she looked around, the heat of the day slapped her in the face like walking into an oven. Inhaling a hot, deep breath, she glanced over, noticing Nicole walking along the Sea Wall, presumably going home, but that wasn't what stopped Grace in her tracks. The man Nicole was with was what made her stomach burn with a white-hot heat, while the green haze in her subconscious grew in intensity. The heat outside was forgotten.
He was tall, dressed in a pair of green board shorts, with a long-sleeved white button-down shirt open across a muscular chest. The shirt flapped in the wind around his body. His auburn hair was coming loose from a pony-tail, whipping in the wind around his face. His body language told her he was pleading with Nicole. Hands grasped each other in supplication, immense shoulders slouched in a posture of inferiority, his mouth was moving nonstop, as if he were spouting convincing arguments. But his face held a congeniality that was rare for men as beautiful as he was. His mouth turned up at the corners, slightly, giving a hint of openness. She could see a mischievous glint in his eyes, the most vivid shade of green that Grace had ever seen. Just the fact that she could tell what color his eyes were at this distance told her that they must be breathtaking up close.
He walked backwards in front of Nicole, who looked like she was humoring him. His arms gesticulated wildly, while he sent pleading looks alternating with beseeching smiles that were spectacular.
Shaking her head, she hopped up into her truck, cranked the engine, and started driving slowly down Sea Wall Boulevard, pulling up next to her roommate.
Rolling down her window, she hollered, "Hey, Nicole! Need a ride?"
The man looked over at Grace, and she saw his mouth open in surprise, and a flush steal up his cheeks. She wondered briefly if she knew him somehow, then dismissed the thought. If she knew him, she would know it. He was just too gorgeous to forget.
Her friend said something to the man, causing him to jump up and pump his fist in the air, with a jubilant smile that cracked his face wide open and stole what was left of Grace's breathable air. Dimples transformed his face into that of a god making Grace's mouth dry. Nicole sauntered over to Grace's truck and climbed in the passenger side.
"Who is that?" Grace was dying to know.
"That is quite possibly our new roommate. He's coming by later for an interview. Where are you going?"
"Home. Had another save today. Mark gave me the rest of the day off."
"Cool. You can take a nap before we go out tonight."
Grace nodded, lost in thoughts about the guy on the Sea Wall.
Nicole continued, oblivious to Grace's silence. "I've got to take a load of clothes to the laundromat before we go out, so can I borrow the truck?"
Grace nodded. "What's his name?"
"Who? Oh. Rafe. What kind of name is Rafe? Like he's some kind of historical romance hero or something." Her bitter laugh rang through the cab of the truck.
"So, he got past the preliminary questioning?" Grace was curious.
"He's pretty smooth. I told him we had an opening for a non-smoker, non-insomniac neat freak without pets. I don't really want a pretty boy living with us, but he convinced me to give him a chance. And we need a roommate. He'll be by around five-thirty to talk to all of us."
Grace pulled into the driveway of their house, and they walked up the stairs together.
"I'm going to run by the store after I do laundry. Do you need anything?"
"No, I'm good. Thanks, though." Grace was suddenly bone-tired. The adrenaline had worn off, and she felt lucky to have made it home. Realizing she was wrong about today’s save, she zombie-walked to her room and crashed.
Chapter Four
The sun was scorching, causing heat waves to rise from the sand. Grace was sure that if she touched the sand with her bare feet, the flesh on the bottoms would peel off like fried chicken skin. She could almost hear the sizzle of skin baking in the sun. The odor of sunscreen mixed with sweat permeated her nose, as she scanned her zone. She noticed someone missing. She blew the whistle and ran.
It was just like every other save, except this time, when she got to where the boy had been, she couldn't find him anywhere. She dove under the water to find him, feeling with her hands. Coming back up for another breath, she looked around.
The beach was empty.
She dove under again, striving to search deeper, lungs burning with the strain. She could see her hair floating around her face, as she swiveled her head around to look in every direction. Her eyes didn't burn in the salty water, and she could see clearly for several feet.
She could see clearly that there was nothing there.
Feeling defeated, she turned to swim back up, but as she looked, the sunlight started to fade fro
m the outside of her vision. She was blacking out, and her lungs were on fire. She opened her mouth to gasp for air, and it filled with water. Panicked, she gasped, filling her lungs with saltwater.
A banging noise accompanied her panicked thrashing in the water. She looked right, then left, then back up at the darkening sky, as she sank into the depths.
The banging continued, and she wondered briefly where it was coming from. What made that kind of noise underwater? She gasped again, struggling.
Tangled in her bed sheets, she thrashed herself awake, to the accompaniment of somebody banging on her front door.
Standing, she stumbled to the front door, still lost in her dream. The banging increased in intensity as she neared it.
When she opened it, she gasped, again struggling for breath.
It was Rafe.
"I'm sorry I'm early. Is it okay?"
"Why were you banging?" Grace looked down at herself, and was a bit embarrassed to see rings of sweat on her t-shirt under her arms and on her chest. She could feel it on her back, too. But this guy had woken her up from her nightmare. For that, she was grateful.
"Nobody answered when I knocked normally, so I thought I'd just bang a little louder. I'm Rafe." He held out his hand in greeting. The look on his face was hopeful, and Grace tried not to stare at the intensity of his green eyes. She'd been right. They were breathtaking. And familiar.
"I'm Grace. It's okay. Come in." After shaking his hand, trying to ignore the tingle that his warm grip caused, she opened the door wider, to allow him entrance.
She had underestimated his frame, as he brushed against her when he came in the door. He was really tall, and moved with the grace of an athlete. His shoulders were broad, but they tapered into a lean waist. Grace inhaled deeply, and was instantly lightheaded from the earthy, spicy smell. He smelled familiar, but she couldn't quite place the odor. It smelled good, whatever it was.
"What time is it?" She looked around for her cell phone to figure out how early he was. He had to be early. Nicole and Bree weren't home yet.
