I shrugged. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I can’t live off twenty thousand dollars forever.”
“Come home, Lena.” Her words were soft and pleading.
“I can’t be in Portland, Sam. I just can’t.”
“Derrek’s gone.” Her words hit me like a freight train.
“What do you mean he’s gone?”
“I mean, he’s gone. Disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“Yeah. Him, Jessica, their girls. Gone. The police are investigating, seeing as how he abandoned his company and no one knows where he is, but it’s just, I don’t know, like a missing person’s case. It’s all really confusing.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“Not really. It doesn’t involve me at all.”
“Perhaps not, but I’m sure the authorities would like to speak with you about it. You were probably the last person to see him before he disappeared.”
“Perhaps, but I’m not coming back for that. I’m not hiding, Sam. If the police want to find me to ask me questions, they will.”
I heard her sigh again and knew she was accepting that she wasn’t getting anywhere with me. “What is your new job?”
I smiled a little, silently thanking her for moving on. “I got a job at a marketing firm. I’m starting at the bottom, but I’m okay with that. I just want something that, for once, wasn’t handed to me.”
“That’s great, Lena. I’m glad you’re getting what you want.”
“I miss you though,” I said softly. “I made a friend today, and she was so nice and warm. And even though I was so happy to have met her, she just made me miss my best friend. So that’s why I called.”
“Well, I’m glad you did. I just wish I knew where you were. I’d come see you. Like, hop on the next plane just to see your face, Lena. That’s how much I miss you.”
Those words, even the suggestion of seeing her, was almost enough to make the words fly out of my mouth, almost tell her where I was. I wanted to see her so badly, wanted to tell her everything, but I needed more time. “You have my number now though, so feel free to call me whenever,” I said with a little sadness.
“I will. Take care of yourself, Lena.”
“Okay.”
I heard the line disconnect and hung my head. That phone call did not go as I had planned. I called her because I wanted to hear her voice, wanted to tell her I missed her. But by the way she sounded toward the end of our conversation, it seemed I might have pushed her even farther away. I stared down at the cheap phone in my hand, and my fingers, trying to have a mind of their own, floated over the keys that would dial Preston’s number.
Sharp pain shot through my chest at the thought of his name. I had tried to not think about him for three weeks, and sometimes that was nearly impossible. When I had this phone in my hand, knowing I could dial his number and possibly hear his voice in just seconds, it was heartbreaking. I could call, listen to his voice, and hang up, like some sorry teenager pranking her crush. I didn’t allow my fingers to make that damaging decision and I put the phone back in my purse.
Hearing Preston Reid’s voice would surely end me. And if his voice didn’t kill me, it would just anger me. I was very in tune with my emotions, enough to know I harbored a lot of anger toward him. And rightfully so, in my opinion. What he’d done to me was unforgivable, not that he’d asked for forgiveness. I’d imagined many scenarios where we’d come face-to-face and all he ever said to me in my made up encounters was, “Looks like you should have left him when you had the chance.” Then his face would spread into that beautiful smile and he’d say, “But the fucking sure was fun.”
Yes, even in my daydreams he was an asshole. Only, my daydreams battled with my memories because in my memory he wasn’t an asshole at all. Well, not in a bad way. He was confident and brash, but he was also infinitely caring, protective, and gentle. The only unkind words he’d ever said to me were out of frustration for the situation I was in.
I shook my head, trying to break the conflicting thoughts. I had to remind myself that Preston Reid had played me. He’d taken money from my husband to bury me in lies and deceit. Any remaining thoughts or memories that painted him as the man I’d fallen in love with needed to be erased, abolished. I couldn’t let myself remember the way it felt when his traitorous hands were on me. Couldn’t think about how my heart had fallen for every poisoned word he’d said.
No.
I had to keep moving forward.
So that’s what I did.
Chapter Three
The next morning, I met Becky outside my room at ten. We walked back to the same coffee shop we’d met at the day before, but instead of a newspaper, we used her smart phone to look for listings.
“I knew Hawaii was an expensive place to live, but this is a little daunting,” she said, taking a sip from her latte.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Some of the single listings are a little scary. I don’t mind living alone, but when I think of what kind of place I could get for fifteen hundred dollars back home…” My voice trailed off as I thought about the tall apartment buildings in Portland.
“Where are you from?”
“Oh, uh, Portland, Oregon.” Her question had caught me off guard. In fact, most everything caught me off guard these days. It was hard to trust people because I’d learned that I obviously was a terrible judge of character. I wasn’t sure I wanted to share personal information with her.
“I’ve heard great things about that place,” she said with a smile, then turned back to her phone. “Oh, here’s a good one. It’s close to the bus line, utilities included, new carpets, and walking distance to the beach! And it’s in the area you wanted, too.” She looked back up at me. “Wanna go check it out?”
“How much is the rent?”
“Fourteen.”
I sighed. But then I straightened my shoulders. It was time to bite the bullet. I didn’t want to live in squalor, so I was going to have to pay a lot for an apartment. Hopefully, once my paychecks started coming in, it wouldn’t seem like such a burden. “I guess we have to start somewhere.”
“Great! Let’s go.”
Thirty minutes later, we found ourselves outside a building that looked like it housed about ten individual apartments. It looked cozy. I imagined everyone who lived there knew each other’s names and borrowed cups of sugar from one another. They kept an eye out for their neighbors and baked them cookies. I could use something like that in my life.
A very round, short, balding man met us out front.
“Hi, I’m Becky and this is Lena. We called about looking at the available apartment.”
“Sure thing, ladies. This way,” he said, motioning to the building behind him, walking toward a small staircase at the side. Once upstairs, he let us into an apartment and my eyes took in the empty dwelling.
It was beautiful. It had a ton of natural light, it was clean, and it embodied the cozy feel I’d picked up from the building on the outside. I walked into the living room and looked out the big picture window and all I saw was blue: blue sky and blue ocean.
“Lena, this place is perfect.”
I smiled at Becky because she was right; it was gorgeous and perfect. There had to be some sort of catch. I wandered down the hall, which led to the bedroom. It was spacious and had the same beautiful view as the living room. I looked through the rest of the apartment, not finding anything to complain about. There was even a washer and dryer in a little closet right off the bathroom.
“I’m a little surprised. Is there something I’m missing? Why is this place even still available?”
The man shrugged. “I just listed it yesterday. They do tend to go fast, though.”
“Lena, if you don’t take it, I might have to,” Becky said with a friendly smile.
“You’re both looking?”
“Yeah, we both just moved here.”
“Well, this is the only one bedroom I have avail
able, but there’s a two-bedroom unit just next door. Nearly same floorplan, just an extra bedroom on the back end. One bathroom. That one has furniture in it you can use if you’d like. Rent’s twenty-two hundred.”
Becky’s eyes got big as she turned to face me. “That’s only eleven hundred each!” She turned back to the landlord. “Can we see the two bedroom as well?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug. I followed, but my shoulders tensed and I got an empty feeling in my stomach. I didn’t know Becky, and I thought it was a little strange that she wanted to share an apartment with me. I could be a serial killer for all she knew, or she could be one.
We walked next door, and sure enough, the two bedroom was just as beautiful as the one. It did have some furniture: one couch, a coffee table, a queen-sized bed in each bedroom, and some end tables. It wasn’t much, but it was more than I had in the world. Becky was practically jumping up and down with excitement.
“What do you think, Lena?”
“Are you sure you really want to live with someone you just met?”
She laughed a little and then smiled. “What’s the difference between living with you or living with someone I meet on craigslist? I need a roommate, regardless of who it is, and you seem way more normal than some of the people I’m sure post their vacancies on the internet.”
She had a point. I had considered meeting people from the internet and looking for a roommate that way. This, meeting her just yesterday and now looking for a place to live together, just seemed a little too convenient. However, my mind started focusing on the price. My brief research had shown eleven hundred dollars for a place this nice, with a washer and dryer, this close to the ocean, was a steal.
“I don’t know…”
“Want me to agree to a background check? Want a drug test?” She asked the questions, but it was obvious she was joking. “Lena, honestly, if you’re uncomfortable, I get it. It’s just a really great deal. If you don’t want to room with me, I’ll just get the two bedroom and look for a roommate myself. But I’d rather just room with you. You’re the first friend I made on this island.”
She watched me as my mind sifted through all my options. The financially smart decision would be to room with her. And I did like her.
“Okay, let’s do it.” Then Becky did start clapping and jumping up and down in her spot. “When is this one available?” I asked the landlord.
“It’s ready now. I’d just need first and last month’s rent, and the security.”
“I’m good with that.” I turned to Becky. “You good to go?”
“I’m golden,” she said with a smile that was so big and bright.
So we both filled out the paperwork, wrote checks for our portion, and he gave us keys.
The next day, after I’d brought all my clothes to the new apartment, along with the small amount of personal belongings I’d acquired in my three weeks on the island, I walked into the living room to find Becky looking out the big window.
“It really is beautiful here,” she said, not taking her eyes off the ocean. I’d only known her a short time, but this was the first instance where I heard anything but bubbly sweetness in her voice. She sounded introspective and a little sullen, almost as if the beauty she was referring to wasn’t just the scenery.
“Yeah, it is,” was my response, but it seemed inadequate. Her mood had me worried.
Then, suddenly, she turned to me with the smile I was becoming accustomed to and said excitedly, “I bought a TV and it’s being delivered in a few minutes. I thought we could have a roomie movie night and christen our new pad.”
And just like that, she was back to normal.
“That sounds awesome.”
That evening, one of the things I learned about Becky was that she was the kind of girl who, when packing her things to move to the other side of the country, brought her Friends DVD collection with her.
“It goes where I go,” she said with a laugh as she loaded the first DVD. We’d spent a few hours watching Ross pine after Rachel, eating take-out, and munching on some popcorn I’d purchased for the event. We even had some cheap, girly beer. I was enjoying myself, and loved getting to know Becky better, but the whole situation made me miss Sam, too.
“So,” Becky said, throwing a piece of popcorn in the air and then catching it in her mouth. “Why did you leave Portland?”
“I needed a new beginning. A fresh start.”
“That’s the impersonal response you give to the girl you just met at a coffee shop,” she said, sounding almost insulted. “Tell me the real reason.” She was looking straight into my eyes, like she genuinely wanted to know, and more so, she seemed like she cared about my answer. For the first time in weeks, I was compelled to tell someone else about my ruined life back in Portland.
“I was married, am still, in fact. At least I think so. I haven’t signed any papers. Anyway,” I exhaled, pushing out a breath and pulling my hand through my hair, trying to build up the nerve to say the words. “I was in a bad marriage and made some bad decisions. My husband found out and took everything from me. It’s actually pretty complicated.”
“He didn’t, like, hit you, did he?”
“No, he didn’t hit me, but he wasn’t a very good husband.”
“Well, what were your bad decisions?”
“I had an affair.”
“Hmm.”
We were both quiet for a while. She was probably thinking I was a horrible person, but my mind was torturing me with images of Preston and all the times he’d pretended to care.
“So, what happened with the guy you had the affair with?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why aren’t you with him now?”
It took me a moment to formulate my answer, but I finally settled on, “He didn’t want me after all.”
“I find that really hard to believe.”
“Well, that’s the funny thing about good liars, they’re easy to believe.”
“Obviously I don’t know the situation, but I would venture to guess he’s torn up that you’re not with him.” She was looking at me with concern, her eyes soft and imploring.
I sighed. “You’re sweet, Becky, but he’s not thinking about me. He probably hasn’t spent one second thinking about me since I left.”
“Impossible,” she stated firmly, as if it were a fact she was sure of.
I smiled at her because, really, I appreciated her kind words, but thinking about Preston just made my heart hurt that much more.
“I think I’m going to head to bed.”
“You don’t want to watch any more Friends?”
“Maybe tomorrow.” I climbed off the couch and started walking toward my bedroom.
“Lena,” Becky called from the living room.
“Yeah?” I stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned back to her.
“Do me a favor? Don’t give up on him. That guy back in Portland. Just,” she paused and bit her lip, “don’t give up hope yet.”
I laughed, but it was a sad, pathetic laugh. “Becky, in order to give up hope, I would have had to have some to begin with. And I didn’t. There was never any hope for Preston and me. It was over before it began, and he’s probably somewhere tricking someone else into believing his lies.”
“Well, I hope someday you find out you’re mistaken,” she said sweetly, like she really wanted what she was saying to be true.
“Goodnight, Becky.”
“Night, Lena.”
Weeks passed and life started to take on a new “normal.” I started my job, easing my way into a new position, trying to learn as much as I could and impress the people working around me. There were a few women who I worked with who seemed friendly and had extended invitations to me to hang out after work for happy hour. I always declined, telling them I had plans already, but in reality I wasn’t sure about letting new people get close to me.
Sam and I spoke on the phone every once in a while, but even though I missed her t
erribly, I could never bring myself to fully open up to her. There was a clear division in my mind between my old life and my new life, and I couldn’t fully convince my head to let Sam into the new.
Becky was the one constant in my life that brought me a sense of familiarity and routine.
She got a job on the island working for the newspaper in advertising. We both had a regular nine-to-five job and so, after a week or two, we started to resemble an old married couple. We’d both come home from work, eat dinner, and then hang out in the living room either watching TV, reading, and sometimes she talked me into playing games.
After our first delve into personal topics, she never really pressured me for any more information. Also, she wasn’t very forthcoming about herself either, and that was totally okay with me. We could spend time together and not have to talk about our pasts. In fact, it was encouraged.
Every morning I got up early to run. I still found it cathartic and craved that time when my mind emptied out and I let myself simply be. Plus, nothing beat running on the beach in Hawaii. I ran without music, simply listening to the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, the sounds of the sand moving beneath my feet.
There were always other people out running and there was a polite courtesy amongst us runners to just nod as we passed each other, if looking at them at all. Most of the time, I tried to keep my eyes on the sand or out at the horizon.
This morning, however, another runner had other plans.
He jogged toward me and I saw him coming. I veered toward the water, trying to give him enough room, sticking to my side of the ‘road,’ staying to the right. But instead of a polite nod, he gave me a bright smile. I smiled back, instinctively, but then looked down to the sand. Then I noticed he slowed and stopped jogging about twenty feet in front of me. I slowed, not sure if I was supposed to stop as well, or if I should start jogging in the other direction. Before I could decide, he spoke.
“You run every morning.” He smiled as he said the words and there was something familiar about him that I couldn’t quite pinpoint.
The Private Serials Box Set Page 19
