Drawn to You

by Jillian Anselmi

  Bren comes up behind me, giving me a comforting hug. “I’ll be at the bar when you’re ready to come back out.” I can see her in the mirror, and she’s smiling. It’s a fake smile, but I know she’s trying.

  “Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.” I stand there, take a deep breath and try to get myself together.

  As I make my way back, I spot food on the bar, and my Amstel is nestled in a bucket of ice. Brenda isn’t a beer drinker. Her drink of choice is a Ketel One martini, dry, with lots of olives. I need to pick up olives at the general store if she’s going to be here for the next few weeks. Wait. “Bren, how did you get so much time off work?” I question her as I pick at my chicken fingers.

  “I had some vacation time coming, and I told Anthony what was going on. He gave me an extra week. We’re slow in the summer anyway.” I have known Anthony DiBenedetto for ten years or so. He’s like the big brother I never had, but he was also my boss before I went away to college. He owns a restaurant named after himself back on the mainland. I started out as a hostess and made my way from waitress to bartender. I would work during holiday breaks, but I always took the summer off. He had plenty of kids back from college to fill in the gaps. Brenda made her way up same as me, but she didn’t go away to college and now manages the place.

  “I should have known,” I mutter, displeased.

  “I didn’t give him any details, just said you needed me.” Her voice is weak and apologetic.

  “It’s okay, I’m glad you’re here.” I give her a crooked smile to let her know she’s off the hook. I can almost feel the tension radiating off her dissipate. She gives me a huge beaming smile, and she knows she’s won this battle.

  After that display of weakness on my part, Mac stays pretty much to the other side of the bar helping the natives that are starting to stagger in. These are the people who don’t come by ferry but stay here either for a week or for the entire summer. Some people live here year round. There are a few people left that came by boat, but they leave before it gets dark. It’s very expensive to dock overnight so they either go to another beach or anchor off the bay side and wait until morning.

  On my fourth beer, I notice the bar is starting to get busy. I don’t want to stay much longer. I know too many natives, and I don’t want to spend all evening explaining where Evan is. I am just about to tell Brenda to wrap it up when the blue-eyed Adonis walks in. He has a white polo shirt on with a pair of designer khaki shorts. Wow. I don’t remember him looking this good. I guess it wasn’t the wine. Now that I see him closer, his eyes are even bluer than I thought. Deep cobalt blue like the ocean. He’s tall, maybe six feet or so, taller than the crowd around him. And he’s built. He must work out all the time to have a chest and arms that perfect. I catch myself staring, shake my head to clear my thoughts, and spin around. “Bren, we’ve got to go,” I say faster than I mean to.

  She gives me a strange look. “Why? I have a full martini.”

  “Take it with you. I can’t be here right now.”

  “Um . . . okay.” She looks at me weird but doesn’t question me. “I’ll call over to Mac and settle up.”

  “No, I’ll tell Melissa to keep the tab open.” She’s the other bartender on tonight who happens to be in shouting distance. “Melissa!” I signal over to her.

  “Hey, Liv, what’s up?”

  “We have to go, something came up. We’ll be back in tomorrow. Keep my tab open?”

  “Sure, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She looks at me, her eyes swimming with sympathy. Mac must have told her about Evan. She probably thinks that’s why I’m leaving. I’m not about to correct her.

  “Tell Mac we had to go, I’ll talk to him later,” I yell back to her as I exit the bar.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Brenda asks.

  “I saw someone I didn’t want to talk to,” I lie. Well, it isn’t really a lie. It’s more of an omission. If she knew about the sexy guy next door . . . She likes to play matchmaker, and I am not in the mood to be her guinea pig.

  “I understand,” she says supportively. I nod as she sips the martini we ran out of Casino’s with. At home, I grab another beer, and we head out to the back deck.

  The sound of the waves crashing on the beach has always been like a cure for me. It makes me feel at peace, even though my world has come crashing down around me. I glance at my cell phone. Sixteen missed calls and twelve messages. I sigh. Can’t anyone figure out that I don’t want to talk? I’ll call them back when I’m ready to.

  I scroll down to see who called. Ten missed calls from my mom. I can’t talk to my mom yet. She loves Evan, and I’m not in the mood for a fight. I’ll have Brenda call her in the morning. Brenda has a way of smooth talking her, and Mom won’t ask too many questions.

  Evan’s sister, Taylor. What does she want? My ex college roommate, Brandi. I should have known with a name like Brandi that she’d be a whore. I am almost interested in what she could possibly want but not enough to talk to that tramp. Evan’s mom. What? She must be pissed at him since she and I got along well. A couple of Evan’s friends who were mutual friends, considering Evan and I were together so long. Everyone called except Evan. My mind begins to stray back to that horrific day.

  That Monday morning, I had just finished my final exam in Economics of Coastal and Marine Ecosystems a full hour early. I was heading back to my dorm room to freshen up before I headed over to Evan’s house for lunch. I told him I wouldn’t be there until at least noon; it was just after ten.

  I entered the dorm and rounded the corner toward my room. Reaching for my keys, I accidentally dropped them on the floor. I bent down to pick them up, and that’s when I heard it. Moaning and groaning on the other side of the door. I almost walked away. Brandi wasn’t dating anyone and sometimes would bring home random guys from The Park Bench, a bar near campus. I would have left, had I not heard her moan Evan’s name.

  I opened the door a crack, just in case it was another Evan. But it wasn’t. It was my Evan. They were both naked on my bed. MY bed! He was fucking her hard and fast from behind, and they both appeared to be enjoying it. He had her bent over the edge of the bed so they didn’t even know I was in the room. I tried to back out, but I dropped my keys again. They both turned and saw me standing there in horror and froze. “Oh crap, Liv,” Evan muttered. I’m not sure if he was talking to Brandi or me. I turned and ran out of the room.

  Evan followed me out into the hallway with a blanket wrapped around his waist and not much else, yelling after me, “Olivia, wait . . . I can explain.” Why do men always think that they can explain?

  “I don’t want to hear it,” I screamed at him. Tears started to cloud my vision. “There is no way to explain your way out of what I just saw.” I was shaking. My head was reeling. Did I really just witness that?

  He ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair and begged. “Please, let me explain.”

  “We. Are. Through,” I said succinctly, making sure he heard every word. I took a deep breath. “Don’t call me. Don’t come find me. It’s over.” I started to sob. I couldn’t look at him. He just stood there staring at me like I had cheated on him. He took a step toward me, but I backed away. I was so baffled as to what I’d just seen that if he touched me then I might have snapped.

  My brain wouldn’t comprehend what was happening. I was dizzy. I couldn’t see straight. I needed some fresh air, so I turned and ran. Ran straight out the front doors of my dorm and away from the horror I just witnessed.

  I know I told Evan not to call, but I can’t believe that he listened to me. He never listens to me. Maybe that’s why his mother called, so he wouldn’t have to.

  Now, I am too tired to listen to the messages. I sigh. I wonder what he’s doing. Stop it. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and take a long pull on the Amstel.

  “I’m exhausted, I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning,” I half yawn.

  “Alright. I’m going to sit out here for a little while if that’s okay with yo
u.”

  “Of course. La mia casa è la tua casa,”I mutter in Italian. I give Bren a small smile as I make my way into the house.

  The next morning Brenda is up bright and early. She starts to make coffee, but I have to remind her there’s no milk in the house. There is nothing in the house. Ah, yes. Our trip to the general store.

  Brenda glances over at me frowning. “Get dressed. We’re going shopping,” she says authoritatively.

  “Give me a minute to throw something on.”

  I duck in the bathroom to make sure my hair isn’t out of control. I peek at myself in the mirror. I’m pale, and I still have dark circles around my green eyes. My cheeks are puffy, making me look as if I need several teeth pulled. I look like shit. Nothing a few days in the sun won’t fix.

  I go back into the bedroom and grab a sarong. They work great over bathing suits since they can tie them in all sorts of ways. I loop it around toward my chest and tie it around my neck. There, perfect beachwear.

  I have an hourglass figure, albeit not as fit as I could be. I just don’t believe in exercise. The only way I would run, is if there was someone chasing me with a gun. I’m one of the lucky ones, though, I can eat whatever I want and not gain a pound.

  I stroll out of the bedroom knowing this outing is going to be painful. Brenda knows no bounds when it comes to my health. She is a health food junkie. There will be all sorts of things I cannot pronounce in the house. What she can’t get at the general store, she’ll have sent over from the mainland.

  “Let’s go.” She’s excited about this. I, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. I haven’t been in the mood for much of anything lately. Evan and I used to go out for all sorts of crazy food. Thai, Sushi, Brazilian. We’ve tried it all. I was always a fan of French food. All that butter. Yum. But all I’ve eaten in the past few weeks are hot pockets from the freezer and ramen noodles. All courtesy of college dorm life. I haven’t had much of an appetite and probably dropped five pounds since catching Evan with Brandi the whore.

  Brenda pulls me out of my thoughts and drags me down the walk. The general store isn’t too far from the house, conveniently placed near the ferry for the day-trippers to grab lunch or a souvenir. It’s also close to the boat slips for those who come over in luxury style.

  We make our way in to the store early enough that tourists from the mainland haven’t landed yet. The place is relatively empty. Brenda grabs a basket and starts to shop. I follow behind her like a puppy. I have no say in what she purchases so I sit back and watch the show. She methodically goes down each aisle looking at anything and everything, now and again placing something into the basket. We wander up to the deli and order cold cuts and cheeses. They come in handy if you don’t want to schlep back to the house for lunch while you’re hanging on the beach.

  Making her way around the store, she casually goes up to the counter to order all of the things that aren’t available here. I hover by the entrance and look out over the water towards Long Island. The mainland seems so far away, but in reality, it’s a thirty-minute ferry ride. I wonder what Evan is doing. Is he thinking about me?

  “Olivia!” I snap out of my bizarre daydream. “I’ve been calling your name. What are you thinking about?”

  “Ah . . . nothing really,” I lie. Uh oh. There’s that look again. Irritated, she knows I’m lying.

  “Whatever. We’re done here. Grab the cart so we can go.”

  All houses come equipped with a cart. There are no cars allowed on the island so if we need to bring things to and from the ferry or the store, we use the cart. They are kept on the side of the building for convenience, all named and numbered by address. Our cart says Pepperidge walk. I grab the end and bring it around to the front of the store. I grab a few of the many bags that are on the counter and head out the door. I turn my head back towards the store as I speak to Bren, “Did you remember the-” and walk into a wall. Only it isn’t a wall. It’s Him. The bags go flying through the air, and I land flat on my ass.

  “Are you alright?” he asks sounding concerned. I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.

  “Um, I . . . think . . . so.” Shit. I can barely put a sentence together.

  He holds out his hand to help me up, and I place my hand in his. I feel a tiny shock as his fingers touch mine. Firm hands, yet soft. He doesn’t do manual labor for a living. He pulls so I am standing flush against him, and I can feel his sculptured abs through his shirt. A familiar scent fills my nostrils—coconut. He smells like the beach; my favorite place to be.

  I glance up and get a good look at his beautiful face. I have never seen such an attractive sexy man. I feel strange; a weird sensual vibe runs through me. I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to move. His eyes sparkle as he stares down at me with a lopsided grin, a hint of a dimple on the left side. I’m drawn to his perfectly kissable mouth. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he purrs, his voice low and husky. He places his hands on my shoulders, most likely to keep me from falling over.

  “Yeah . . . fine . . . thanks,” I mutter breathlessly. His eyes are burning into mine with an intensity I’ve never seen. Suddenly, I feel hot and flushed. Feeling I need space, I back up and bump into Brenda standing behind me.

  “Liv, what happened?” She looks at the packages strewn all over the dock then glances over at model boy.

  “Here, let me help you with those. This is my fault anyway,” he says with a sweet reverence towards me. He starts to scoop up the packages and places them in the cart. “I should introduce myself since I knocked you down. My name is Chase.” He tilts his head to the side, and I almost pass out. His gaze is intense, and I feel like he can see right through me.

  “Hi,” I reply looking down at the floor. “I’m Olivia. My friends call me Liv. This is Brenda.”

  “What’s up.” She doesn’t even look at him. She finishes putting the bags in the cart. “Let’s go Liv. I need to get this stuff in the fridge.” And off she goes down the walk.

  I turn to follow Bren. “Um . . . bye,” I yell back as I hurry to catch up.

  “Wait, where are you staying?” he asks but it’s too late, I’m too far down the walk. I make the right down Center walk toward the house.

  “Liv, isn’t that the guy who’s staying next door to us?” she says nonchalantly while placing the groceries in the cabinet. Damn it. Leave it to Bren to be observant without being obvious.

  “Um, I think so. Why?” I try to play stupid.

  “He’s hot. Really hot.”

  Crap. I know where this is going.

  “Don’t even think about it. I’m not ready. And even if I was,” I drift off. I can’t be thinking about Chase now. I’m too confused about how I should be feeling about Evan rather than what I am feeling. I sync my iPod up with the Bose system so I can drown her out with some music. I need a distraction. A little Florence and the Machine should do the trick. I scroll down until I find the right song, hit play, and turn it up loud.

  Brenda peers around the corner of the kitchen. “Really?”

  I smile back singing to the beat about the dog days being over. She comes into the living room and joins me. We can’t sing but we don’t care. Just being silly and jumping up and down with the beat puts a bona fide smile on my face, one that hasn’t been real for a few weeks. Her smile is infectious and soon we’re a giggling mess.

  Brenda makes lunch and it’s delicious; grilled chicken with fresh mozzarella, roasted peppers, farm raised tomatoes and a basil pesto mayo on brioche bread. She’s always been a great cook. I can cook too, but she has more passion about it. Add an excellent bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from Pindar Vineyards and the meal is extraordinary. Long Island has good vineyards, but Pindar is one of my favorites. We sit out on the deck and enjoy the view of the ocean. “Wow, I forgot what real food was like. Thanks,” I say with sincerity.

  Appreciative, she smiles, but I think it’s more that she’s happy I’m eating again.

  “Bren, could you call my mom for me? She keeps leav
ing messages, and I haven’t told her about Evan yet.”

  “You haven’t?”

  “No. I’ll tell her in person when I get home.”

  “Um, sure. What do you want me to say?”

  “Just tell her I’m fine, and I don’t feel like talking to anyone. And tell her not to jump on a ferry.” That would be the last thing I need. “And whatever you do, don’t put me on the phone.”

  “She’s going to know something’s up.” I nod, but I can’t talk to my mother now. “Okay, give me your phone.”

  Bren goes inside to make the call. I don’t want to hear it or even be in the vicinity of the conversation.

  After I caught Evan and Brandi having sex, I had nowhere to go so I ran home to my mommy. I knew driving over there it was a bad idea, but I went anyway. I needed comfort, and I was hoping she could give it to me. Ever since my dad died, she’d been latching on to my relationship with Evan. I guess it helped her to see us together.

  I pulled up to the house to find her car missing. She wasn’t home. Every once in a while, she has a meltdown. It’s been over six years, but she still hasn’t come to terms with his death. She runs over to her sister’s, my Aunt Rosemarie’s house. Aunt Ro is the only person who can talk her down when she gets into a funk.

  So, when I needed her the most, she wasn’t there. Typical. It was probably better that way. I know we would have wound up arguing anyway, and I don’t know if I could have endured any more heartache.

  For a little over a week, I avoided her. I’m glad I decided not to attend my graduation ceremony last Sunday, or she would have known something was up when Evan wasn’t there. I walked for my Bachelors; there was no need to do it for my Masters.

  The following Thursday morning, I had packed all of my clothes for Davis and headed downstairs. My mom had gone over to Aunt Ro’s for the day. I left a note on the counter telling her I’d gone, locked the door, and drove to the ferry. I had planned on talking to her when I calmed down, but someone got to her first.