by Sarah Cole
I let my mind drift as the girls are chatting about nonsense. These two could talk to a brick wall and not realize they weren’t having an actual conversation. Abby planned this whole trip, it was her idea. I really didn’t even want to come after everything that has happened, but Laney and Kate insisted upon it. Everything was already paid for, and they thought that I was at risk for a meltdown or something soon. So here I am, enjoying myself. And it sucks. I can’t help, but feel guilty. The feeling sits heavy in my chest, threatening to break free from the dark where I keep pushing it back down.
“Hey!” Kate says clapping her hands in front of my face. “Where’d you go?”
“Just thinking.” I say a little too quickly, taking a sip of the cocktail in front of me.
She gives me her look that says, ‘I know better and we are talking about it later.’ I hate that she can read me so well. It’s not only twins that have that creepy mind reading thing going on, just saying. Laney is completely unfazed by our exchange and is still yapping one hundred miles a minute about a client that has a habit of jumping the gun and attempting at home hair services. Not pretty, by way of her description. “Big mistake. Huge.” Laney laughs, quoting Pretty Woman.
I take a break from conversation to look around the patio, and my eye lands on a small group of guys at the corner bar. Dayuuumm. That is all. I mean their DNA should be studied and replicated. Apparently I’m doing that creepy stare thing where you stare so long, they sense it and know you’re staring, because before I know it one of the men looks up and catches my eyes. It feels like I stuck my finger in a light socket, as electricity zaps through me. Shit, shit, shit! Abort! Abort! I quickly look away and fake a coughing fit. Fucking smooth, Charlie. I swear it’s like I’ve never been in public before. Laney and Kate are patting me on my back and offering me water.
“Hey, sorry. I just need a minute. I’m going to head to the bathroom. I’ll be back.” I say standing and adjusting my dress. What the hell is wrong with me? My heart is hammering in my chest. Is this what a heart attack feels like?
I quickly make my way to the bathroom to collect myself. My emotions are so back and forth that I don’t really know which way is up anymore. I just repeat my new mantra to myself repeatedly. Just keep moving.
Andrew:
“Yes Mom. Just a couple more weeks.” I say into the phone as I am packing up my supplies.
For the last few months, I have been travelling to various South American and Caribbean locations, bringing new drug samples and educating the local doctors on new pediatric surgical techniques. I was struggling. Struggling with my past, with the demons that still haunted my every waking hour, influencing me, pushing me to right my wrongs or at the very least, come to terms with them. I was struggling with that night in the ER when we lost Abby Mason. For some reason, it forced me to face the things I have been burying deep inside myself for the past ten years. The situation – what she said to me resonated and its’s on constant replay in my mind.
I was given the opportunity to travel when someone else bowed out at the last minute. I practically jumped on the opportunity. I figured if I could keep moving then I could distract myself from my guilt for just a little while longer. What I didn’t realize is that spending so much time alone gave me ample time to dwell on the things that can’t be undone – the choices I can’t unmake.
“OK, honey. Be careful. Remember that your father and I are coming up with Camille at the end of November, to help her move and for Thanksgiving. We’ll have to meet your lady friend, then.” She says snapping me from my thoughts.
“I don’t have a lady friend, as you like to put it.”
“Oh, Andrew. What happened to her, what was her name again? Sorry.”
“Jenna.”
“Yeah, I thought you liked her.”
“She was nice at first, but I just don’t think she was in it for the right reasons.” I say, quoting the famously overused phrase from The Bachelor.
“Oh stop it, you turd.” My Mom chuckles.
“In all honesty, we just didn’t really have anything in common, and I thought it was better to end it before things got too serious. Avoid the whole ‘who gets custody of the house plants’ argument and all that, ya know?” I respond, slightly irritated because I know my mother and I know she’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to my love life. Truth is Jenna was an airhead. We had nothing in common because the only things Jenna was interested in was Jenna. All she was looking for from me was a social status and a ring on her finger.
“When are you going to settle down, Andrew? I’m not getting any younger, and I want grand babies. You haven’t brought a girl home since high school – and that was only to take pictures for prom. Your father and I are dying slowly here.” She says dramatically, really laying it on thick for an extra helping of guilt.
“Hey, as much as I’d love to chat some more about this, I really have to get going to catch my next flight.” I really have a few minutes, but I need to cut this short before she starts asking if I’m gay again.
“Alright…” She sighs heavily. She’s onto me. “Well at least send us a message or something and let us know if you made it alright. I love you Andy.”
“Love you too Mom.” I say hating, but secretly loving that she still uses my childhood nickname. “Tell Dad I said hi.”
“Will do, bye darling.”
“See ya.” I say hanging up my phone and tossing it onto the hotel bed.
A few hours later, I’m checking into my new hotel when I hear a familiar voice. I turn to find my best friend, Parker smiling back at me. He and our good friend Ethan decided to take a vacation, and meet me here in St. Croix. I am definitely thankful for the distraction from myself.
“Hey man. Where’s Ethan?” I say giving him one of those manly, back slapping hugs. You know, because we’re men and stuff.
“He is still sleeping off last night.” Parker says, with a shit-eating grin.
“Oh Jesus, do I even want to ask?” I shake my head, taking my keycards from the front desk.
“No, but you totally should.”
“Elaborate.” I say wheeling my suitcase along while Parker keeps pace.
He relays the whole night’s events which include a beach party and a limbo competition. The friendly competition apparently raised its steaks to strip limbo, then on to drinking limbo. From what I gathered, Ethan was nursing a pretty stellar hangover and some epic sand chafing in very unmentionable areas.
In true Parker fashion, his dick made plans for the lot of us; accepting an invite to a rehearsal dinner by a group of bridesmaids. So here we are, stuck with a group of Jenna’s. I’m calling them Jenna, because I honestly don’t remember their names and don’t care to. I’m still trying to figure out if they really are this dumb, or if it is for show because they think that is what guys prefer? Either way, it’s a huge turn off for me. Give me a girl with a brain and a great sense of humor and I’m gold.
Even though this night sucks in terms of female company, I am having a great time watching the slow realization of his mistake wash over Parker. It is like I see the wheels turning inside his pretty boy head of how to ditch our new friends before we get to the whole ‘tequila makes my clothes fall off’ conversation.
“Whelp ladies!” Parker interrupts the blondes story about how dolphins sound. “While it has been truly fascinating getting to know you, our wives will be looking for us. Just about time to read the kids a bedtime story!” He claps his hands awkwardly, and checks his watch. Not his finest work, but it will have to do.
“You guys are married?” Jenna number one asks, a disgusted tone plaguing her question.
“Afraid so!” Ethan says, playing along. I have to hide a groan at how awful this is. My friends are idiots.
“But then where are your rings?” Jenna number two asks, eyeing us skeptically.
“They are in our rooms. Our wives made us take them off to go snorkeling.” I chime in, ashamed that I’m playing along w
ith such a horribly planned exit strategy.
“Eww, men are gross. Go to hell!” Jenna number one says.
“Yeah. Shame on you.” Jenna number three adds, as they get up from their seats and slink away.
“That was really something Parker. You should totally go into improv.” I say sarcastically.
“Oh, like you could do any better, asshole? I think I was losing IQ points by the second.” Parker snaps.
“Well you’re the one that made the plans, dickwad!”
“Will you two shut up? It’s done, let’s just go have a drink.” Ethan says breaking up our bickering. He has always been the level headed, quiet one and has been breaking up our arguing since college.
We decide to take our drinks at the bar outside to avoid the death glares from the Jenna’s, and for some reason I feel like I’m being watched as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It doesn’t quit, so I turn to find the source of my discomfort. My eyes lock onto a gorgeous brunette. Damn. Her bright eyes go wide realizing she’s been caught and fakes a coughing fit. I smile to myself as I steal another glance, trying to be inconspicuous. She’s speaking to her concerned looking dinner companions. She stands up to leave, and my breath catches – bronzed skin, accentuated by a bright pink dress that is sexy as hell but still conservative, athletic body, long wavy espresso colored hair. She is perfection. She rushes from the patio with her head down. Where the fuck is she going? It’s like hunter like instincts kick on somewhere in my body, and all I want to do is follow her. My heart is doing this funny thing in my chest.
Parker notices where I have fixated my attention. “Hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave.” He says nudging me with his elbow, watching her make her escape.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Be an ass.” I say.
“You should go for it.” Ethan says, offering an encouraging smile.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” I cut him off before he can make another comment. “We made eye contact and she bolted.”
“Shy ones. They’re hellcats in bed.” Parker says laughing.
“Jesus, you two…” I say setting my empty tumbler on the bar.
“Another Macallan, sir?” the bartender asks with a flirty smile, leaning over pushing her tits together intentionally. Not going to happen.
“No, thanks. I’m going to call it a night.” I reply ignoring her unspoken invitation, tossing a generous tip onto the bar.
“Ahh come on man, I didn’t mean to piss you off.” Parker relents.
“You didn’t.” I snap and immediately feel bad. These guys have been through it all with me and somehow still seem to tolerate my moodiness. “I’m just tired – a lot of travelling. You know? I’ll catch up with you guys in the morning for breakfast. Give ‘em hell boys.”
“We fully intend to.” Ethan smiles from behind his perfectly groomed beard. I have no doubt they will make good on their promises. We have been friends since freshman year in college, and although we are all so different, somehow it works.
Parker apparently found a hookup last night. Surprise, surprise. Ethan was dragged into a conference call for an architectural design project he has been working on for the past year and a half, so that leaves me alone… again. I decided to go for a run along the beach to unwind, trying to just relax however hard that may be.
I slow my pace to start my cool down, when I hear soft singing carrying on the morning breeze. It’s haunting in the most beautiful kind of way, low and raspy. I look around to find the source. It isn’t hard to find considering the beach is mostly empty this time of the morning. Sitting under a secluded cabana with a straw fedora pulled low over her face, in a black bikini and wrap, is the beauty from the restaurant last night drumming a complicated rhythm on her notebook in her lap and singing to a familiar song. My heart threatens to beat out of my chest, and I am mesmerized by the site of her. It is like somewhere deep inside me something is coming to life, and I know in that instant that I have to meet this girl. I need to know her.
Chapter 2
Charlie:
I woke early again, the nightmares following me. Luckily, with the time difference it isn’t nearly as early as it usually is, so I take my things and sneak out of the room trying not to wake Laney and Kate, and leave a note behind. I grab a coffee from the coffee shop inside the resort and head down to the beach with my notebook to be alone with my thoughts.
My therapist I was seeing had suggested that I write my feelings and goals down since lately I have been having trouble saying them aloud. It isn’t that I’m a closed book, I never have been. It is just that when I say what I feel, I can’t help but cringe at the sympathetic looks people seem to give me. I can’t handle it, I don’t want sympathy, I want normalcy. I just want my life back, to be me, and I can’t help but think that that will never happen again. How can it when part of you will be forever missing? The past few months I have been drowning in my own darkness, and I have to find a way to resurface. With that in mind, I begin to write. I write my fears, my nightmares, my goals, my wishes- all in the form of music. Music melodies, lyrics, solos; they flow out along with the tears, unlike the words that have been stuck in my throat for months.
I am listening to one of my favorite songs when a shadow falls across the tear and ink stained pages of my notebook. I quickly close it and look up, my eyes adjusting to the sudden shade, meet blue eyes the color of the ocean in front of me. They are staring at me intently like they can find the hidden parts of me and light them up, banishing the darkness from the closed corners of my soul.
I let my eyes travel back down over the thickly muscled, sweat streaked, smooth, tan skin, and the swirls of intricate ink covering both arms and extending behind his shoulders. He is quite possibly the most gorgeous man I have ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on, and I realize I have seen him before. I recognize him as the guy from the restaurant bar last night. He smiles a perfect straight, white smile and says something. Only then do I realize I’m ogling him like tub of Ben and Jerry’s, and I still have my earbuds blasting music in my ear. I remove them, completely embarrassed by myself.
“I’m so sorry, what was that?” I ask, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. It is definitely not just from the sun, but hopefully he doesn’t know that.
“Is that The Bleeding you were singing?” he drawls in a low, rumbling southern accent. Damn his voice - might as well just drop my Grandma undies right now.
“Uh, yes. You know Five Finger Death Punch?” I ask like an idiot. He obviously knows the band if he knows the song, Dumbass.
“Yeah great band – one of my favorites, actually.” He says smiling again. “Do you mind if I sit here? I was just finishing my run, I heard you singing, and I recognized you from last night at the restaurant. I thought I would introduce myself.”
“Oh gosh I’m so sorry…” I say gesturing to the space next to me, “Although I’m not sure which one I’m sorrier about. The fact that you heard me singing, or the fact that you caught me staring at you last night. Not my finest moment.”
“I don’t see what you have to be sorry for. I’m flattered you thought I was interesting enough to look at. I wasn’t ready to petition for a restraining order or anything, so we’re good. And for the record, your voice is beautiful. Fitting really. Not very often you hear a girl singing to songs like that.” he says genuinely.
My face heats up even more, and I shift nervously under his unrelenting gaze.
“Andrew Montgomery.” He says holding his hand out for me to shake it.
“Charlie Adams.” I say sliding my hand into his large, warm one. He grasps it firmly, but yet delicately and it sends a ripple of goosebumps up my arm.
“Charlie?” he asks curiously.
“Short for Charlotte, but typically I go by Charlie.” I say smiling like a damn idiot.
“Beautiful and classic, but Charlie suits you.”
“Why is that?”
“It
’s energetic and fun. Like you.”
“And you know this for a fact, how?” I quirk my eyebrow and give him a look.
“Just a feeling I have.” He smiles back at me. “Any girl who’s into music like that can’t be boring. It’s pretty impossible.”
“Know many girls into heavy metal, deathcore and alternative metal?” I ask innocently.
“No, and that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” He laughs.
I smile warmly at him, and we settle into an easy, comfortable conversation. It’s not that awkward small talk conversation you normally get where there are uncomfortable silences and blank stares. It kind of feels like I’ve known him forever. I’m not sure if it is because there is no expectation involved or if it is just because he’s a genuinely good guy. He puts me at ease, and I feel like I can be myself around him.
“So are you here on vacation too?” I ask.
“Actually, I’m here for work, but a few of my buddies decided to meet up here so it is kind of like vacation.” He says flashing me his dimples.
“Oh really? What do you do?” Genuinely curious as to what kind of profession would bring you to an island for work.
“I’m a surgeon actually, but I specialize in pediatrics.”
“That’s amazing! I’m impressed, so are you doing a doctors without borders type of thing?”
“It’s really just more of a knowledge sharing with other surgeons in my field type of thing. Teaching new techniques, new drugs and things like that. Most of the times, these places have few resources so it’s impossible for them to be able to attend formal trainings or large conferences. I was presented the opportunity, and I had to take it!”
“What about you? What do you do?” he asks.
“Mine is really pretty boring in comparison to that. I mean how do you follow up saving little kids?” I joke, and he laughs.
“Yeah, I mean it kinda gives me a leg up on the competition usually.” He winks.
“I am an attorney. Well, I passed the Bar, but I don’t start at the firm that hired me for a few weeks. I worked as a paralegal through law school… so yeah…yay.” I say, trying to scrounge up at least an ounce of enthusiasm.
