by Ivy Jordan
I was still trying to catch my breath from the last trip to my car when the phone rang. It was the secretary announcing Milton’s arrival. “Send him back,” I said quickly, and took a deep breath. I stepped out of my office and into the hall to greet Milton as he arrived. He was hunched over, walking slowly, and his body looked so frail that a good wind would knock him over.
He smiled up at me as he made it to my door. “Good to meet you, Milton. I’m Taylor Madden,” I introduced myself.
“You’re prettier than Mitchell,” he chuckled as he worked on entering the office.
I moved a small table from his path and took his cane as he sat down in the chair. He was so thin, so frail, that the cushions nearly swallowed him. “I would like to spend the day just getting to know you, if that’s okay,” I informed him as I took my seat at my desk.
He was a sweet old man, and he didn’t waste any time starting off telling me how he spent his life in the Navy. I told him my dad had served, and even my brother, which seemed to please him. He opened up easily enough, but it was obvious he was holding back. His two kids were married with families and lived in the States, one in California, the other in New York. “Have you thought about moving closer to them?” I asked, curious as to what his hold was to stay on the islands.
“My wife is buried here, and I promised her I wouldn’t leave her,” he said sadly. “Besides, the kids have their own lives. I don’t want to burden them,” he added.
It was obvious while listening to him that he had been self-sufficient all his life. He had been strong, independent, and never had to ask for help. That part of his personality was the battle he fought every day, because he was no longer that man.
“Do you need any help through the day, with the house, or with caring for yourself?” I was required to ask, but hated to.
“No. I can get along just fine,” he insisted, even though I knew that wasn’t true.
I’d read through his file, and Mitchell had scraped the surface of the man’s depression, but I knew there was much more to uncover.
Milton reminded me of my dad, stubborn and strong. I imagined he probably felt the same need to protect me from any burden he may have caused by reaching out for help. He knew I was happy in New York, just like Milton knew his kids were happy with their families. I wondered if my dad had gone through the same bouts of depression as Milton, and if he’d killed himself to somehow never become a burden. I’d have given anything to have my dad reach out to me instead of killing himself, but listening to Milton, I was learning how devastating it is for a man of such strength and character to grow old and feeble.
“I think I’ll like talking to you,” Milton said as I showed him out. I smiled and gently patted his back.
Once he left, I sat back in my chair, reflecting of how the visit had gone. I hoped that maybe I’d have something to offer old Milton, because I worried he was running out of reasons to live.
By the end of the day, I’d met five very interesting people and each with their own unique set of problems. I was afraid when I left New York that I would become bored with my career. I mean, what kind of problems could people have living in paradise? I chuckled to myself as I realized I’d lived here most of my life, and I had plenty of problems. My patients in New York were certainly challenging, but these patients seemed to have more realistic problems versus the New York patients. In New York, I had a woman who feared aluminum foil, and a man who had to wash his hands every time he farted. The place was so busy, so crowded, that it seemed that people were creating problems just to be different, to stand out.
Mitchell was impressed that I’d managed to get through the day, and even more impressed when I told him I could handle a few more patients each day to help out. I left feeling productive, satisfied, and strangely chipper. I’d never left my New York office feeling so good.
I stopped at Madison’s bakery on the way home, excited to tell her about my day. I was relieved when I walked inside the place was fairly empty, and she wasn’t busy. “Hey, Taylor,” she waved me over to the counter. She was arranging the donuts baked that day in the discount bin for the evening customers who were always looking for a deal. She laughed about it, saying they actually made her more money than the morning crowd.
“How was your first day?” she asked.
“It was actually quite amazing,” I admitted, smiling without effort. I may have been reluctant to come here, but I was starting to think I’d enjoy spending some time on the island.
“I’m so glad, so maybe you’ll stay,” she hinted.
“Maybe,” I smiled, pointing to one of the glazed donuts she was placing in the discount tray. She chuckled as she reached in and handed it to me over the counter. “So, you really don’t want to give Johnny another shot?” she questioned.
“He’s really not my type,” I squinted as I spoke.
“And, what is your type?” she asked playfully.
“Tall, dark, and handsome, a gentleman, one who listens, who makes me laugh, and doesn’t try to get in my pants on the first date,” I gushed while my cheeks turned hot and most likely, pink.
“Sounds like your describing someone in particular,” she winked.
My cheeks turned even hotter as I tried to avoid eye contact. “Oh my God, spill it,” she insisted.
Even though we hadn’t seen each other in years, it was like we’d never been apart. She still could read me better than anyone else, or maybe I was just too much of an open book. I giggled, trying to keep a straight face while she stared at me intensely. “It’s nothing. I just ran into an old friend,” I explained.
“And,” she urged for more details.
“We had dinner, and it was nice to catch up,” I stated.
“Uh huh, so you had a date?” Madison’s eyes lit up with excitement and curiosity.
“It wasn’t a date,” I insisted.
“Did you wear your hair down?” Madison probed.
I nodded, feeling my cheeks burning.
“So, who was this tall, dark, and handsome man?” she pressured me with her eyes more than her tone.
“Elijah Grant,” I boasted proudly.
Madison knew Elijah. He was just a year ahead of us in school, and while she had a huge crush on my brother, Elijah was the name I doodled in my notebooks while daydreaming about being his girl. “Really?” her eyes widened.
I bit my bottom lip and fought back a squeal as she rushed around to the front of the counter. She gripped my arm, pulling me towards a table in the back of the shop. “Tell me everything,” she insisted.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I giggled.
“Did he kiss you?” she asked.
“No!” I exclaimed.
I did want him too. For a moment, when we were on my porch, I thought he would, but he didn’t. “It wasn’t a date. It was just two friends catching up. He’s an old friend of my brother, a Navy brother, and a friend of the family,” I explained, knowing that Madison wasn’t buying any of it.
“So, you just talked about Tommy all night?” she inquired, her eyes piercing into me as she spoke.
“No. He actually didn’t come up at all,” I recalled. That was strange. Maybe it was a date.
“You need to quit thinking with your therapist brain and start thinking with your woman brain,” Madison teased.
“What does that mean?” I questioned.
“You’re always trying to analyze everything and everyone. You’ve done it since we were kids; no wonder you’re a therapist,” she giggled. “Be a woman, give into your needs, and quit overthinking everything,” she added firmly.
She was right. I did do that. I tried to hold back my giggle, but one escaped as my cheeks began to roast.
“He’s only here for a month, to sell his father’s house,” I argued.
“So what? You’ve had a crush on this guy since high school; you’re telling me you wouldn’t like to have him bend you over the table and fuck you right here and now?” she laughed.
My cheeks were on fire with embarrassment. “You’re so bad,” I whispered.
Madison nodded proudly. “There’s nothing wrong with getting what you want. If he’s leaving in a month, then you don’t have much time,” she howled.
Electricity shot through my body, swelling my pussy against the silk of my panties at the thought of Elijah taking me, fucking me. “Oh God,” I gushed, letting loose a series of nervous giggles. She was right. I did want Elijah to take me, but I still wasn’t sure I could let loose enough to make it happen.
Chapter Nine
Elijah
I held onto the tree limb with a sore hand and pulled myself up the side of the mountain with a loud grunt. Fuckin’ Christ, this is a journey from hell!
My compass pointed north, and according to the coordinates Xander gave me, his cabin would be just a mile east of my location. It fuckin’ better be.
A tarantula sat on a rock as my foot lifted over. It’s hairy legs and beady black eyes freaked me out. Navy SEAL or not, spiders are creepy as hell. I stopped about a quarter mile up and took a drink of my water that was now just as hot as the sun. There wasn’t a path, no easy way to reach Xander, which is just how he liked it I assumed. He always was one to avoid crowds, or people in general. I laughed out loud as I thought about how he’d react to hiking tourists wandering onto to land. I guzzled the rest of the water, even though I knew sipping was more beneficial. I was roasting, itching from the foliage, and my feet were soaked from the wet, lush terrain.
Finally, I held my coordinates and stood in the spot that they dictated, but I didn’t see any sign of a cabin. If that asshole had me on a wild goose chase, laughing his ass off somewhere nearby at my struggle, I was determined to have his head before the end of the day. I pushed past a large overgrown bush and stepped into a small creek bed as the image of the wooden cabin in the distance welcomed me. The sticks cracked under my feet as I took a few steps near the place, then a familiar sound of a gun cocking sounded not far ahead of me. “Another step might be your last,” Xander’s voice was music to my ears.
“You fuckin’ bastard, I ought to shoot your ass for making me climb this mountain,” I called back.
“Elijah!” his voice was friendlier, and once he stepped forward, his face recognizable. “You pussy, you took the easy way,” he teased.
The easy way?
“You better have a cold beer,” I demanded.
Xander laughed as he extended his hand to mine. I gripped on, letting him pull me across the waterway and up the last small hill to his land. Land I was certain he didn’t own but claimed like a damn hippie. “I’ve got something better than that,” he smirked, releasing my hand a little too soon. I nearly fell back onto my ass and was glad Xander had turned, missing my struggle.
His sandy blond hair had grown long, flowing past his shoulders, and the goatee he sported made him look like a wild man, but I guess that’s what he was, what he’d always been.
“Come on in,” he offered, pushing the front door to the cabin open as he walked through.
“How did you find this place?” I asked, looking around the cabin in awe. It was nice: really fuckin’ nice.
“Find it?” he snorted. “This has been in my family for years,” he boasted.
I pulled off my wet boots, and then my socks that were sticking to my waterlogged feet. The place was too nice to dirty up, so I left them by the door. “You still like whiskey?” Xander called from the kitchen.
I never really liked whiskey, but I did drink it a time or two when I was thinking about my dad. I guess now, here back in Molokai, dad’s ashes sitting on the kitchen counter next to the coffee grounds, this was the time for whiskey. “Sure,” I called back, still amazed at the modernization of the place. A dark brown leather sectional spread through the middle of the large front room, a TV, larger than I’d ever seen hung on the wall, and a laptop was open, appearing to be onlin, sitting on the plank wood coffee table.
“This place is incredible,” I gasped as Xander reappeared in the room with two glasses in his hands.
“Here,” he handed me one, the smell of whiskey strong coming from the glass, reminding me of my dad and his iron fist. “Yeah, I spruced it up a bit,” he smirked.
I noticed a monitor on the wall, large, and with six split screens. It was scanning the perimeter of his land from every angle. “You saw me coming, ya asshole,” I scorned.
Xander laughed. “Yeah. I just thought it would be funny to watch you squirm a bit,” he admitted.
“So, how do you keep supplies, and how the hell are you getting electricity way up here?” I questioned.
“Generator, and I make a trip to town twice a week,” he said casually, like it was normal to live in the damn woods, more like rainforest, on top of a mountain with no path.
“You’ve always been eccentric,” I smiled, and then took a sip of the whiskey in my hand. “Damn, that’s smooth,” I marveled, swirling the brown liquid around in the glass.
“I made it myself,” he grinned. “I started a company while I was in the States. You can get Xander Whiskey in fifteen states now, and Hawaii is next on the list,” he added.
“Well, that explains where you’re getting all the money to supply this place,” I chuckled, taking another sip. It was really fuckin’ good. My dad would’ve loved to have got on a good drunk with this stuff.
“So, how did you know I was in Hawaii?” I questioned.
“Ahhh, I know where all you boys are. I keep a pretty close eye on my brothers,” he slapped me on the back as he walked past me to the couch. “Sit down and relax,” he offered, motioning to the couch as he took his spot in front of the laptop.
My body was aching as I hobbled over to the couch. Blisters on the back of my heels had already started forming, and I knew from the burn in my calves, I’d have charley horses all night long when I finally slept.
“It has to get pretty lonely all the way up here,” I hinted, finishing my whiskey with one good gulp.
“I’d say it’s more peaceful than lonely. You’re the one who always needed a warm body in your bed,” he teased.
I couldn’t deny that statement. I did always tend to seek out company of the female kind whenever possible. Xander kept to himself, and now that I thought about it, I didn’t think I’d ever seen him with a woman.
“You ready to settle down yet?” Xander asked, his bushy blond eyebrows pushing up on his forehead.
“You know I don’t believe in marriage. That isn’t for me,” I scoffed.
He didn’t let his eyes lift from mine; his stare was intense. “Don’t you want to start a family?” he probed. His tone was serious, which kind of freaked me out. This wasn’t a topic that men talked about, especially Navy men.
“Why bring a kid up in this world? It’s filled with hate and danger,” I proclaimed with the same seriousness that Xander exuded.
“You know Taylor Madden is back in town,” he smirked, standing and walking back towards the kitchen.
My heart raced at the mention of her name. “Yeah, I’ve seen her,” I admitted while he was in the other room and eye contact wasn’t an issue.
“Oh yeah?” he chuckled, walking back into the room with the bottle of whiskey.
He filled our glasses, and then placed the bottle on the table in front of us. The label was a picture of a mountain, with a man, bearded and long-haired, standing on the top. I chuckled as I imagined it was created to mimic Xander. His own cartoon figure was even tough and rugged.
“She’s one hell ova’ woman. It’s a shame what happened to her family,” he sighed, leaning back on the couch.
I hadn’t talked to her about Tommy, but she did bring up the topic of her father. It was a shame; they were an amazing family, and I knew Taylor was close to them. “It is,” is all I said on the topic, not wanting to disclose details about her personal life if Xander hadn’t already known how her father died.
“Didn’t you have the hots for her?” he nudged me har
d in the ribs with his elbow.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I lied.
I did have the hots for Taylor, right around my senior year. I’d already signed up for the Navy with Tommy, and he threatened to kick my ass when I mentioned his sister was growing up into a beautiful woman. He was right to. She didn’t deserve the pain of loving a man in the military. My life was uncertain, and she deserved certainty.
Xander started talking about Tommy, which led into Isaac, and then our other brothers, lost and still living. He really had kept tabs on everyone. I was on the edge of my seat, soaking in every last word he spoke, intrigued to learn about my brothers and how they were progressing in life since leaving the Navy. A couple stayed in, but everyone else bailed after their years were up, including me. I couldn’t take anymore. After losing my best friend, holding him in my arms while he took his last breath, I was done.
It was getting late when Xander finished talking, and the bottle that was in front of us. “I better get back,” I reasoned, knowing it would get dark just as I hit the beach where I’d parked my car a block away.
“I’ll throw you a pillow if ya wanna take the guest room. You’re welcome to stay,” he offered.
My sore back, throbbing calves, and blistered feet really considered his offer, but I needed to get back. “I appreciate it, but I’m gonna head out,” I replied, slapping my old friend on the back as I stood.
My socks were nearly dry, but my shoes were still drenched. Xander held up his finger to tell me to hold on while he rushed into the back room. He came out holding dry socks, and a pair of boots that he swore would keep my feet dry on the trip. “Keep em’, but come back up and visit anytime,” he offered.
I wasn’t sure I’d be making that trip again anytime soon. “I’m only here a month, so I’ll do my best,” I agreed. I knew I’d mentioned bringing Taylor along, but I wasn’t sure she could handle this trip. It was hard on me, and I’d been trained to handle those conditions.
