Secure in her ability to fend for herself with the Italian stallion, I turn my attention back to the task at hand. This could turn into a fiasco if everyone hasn’t confirmed their reservations, but I already see Diane talking to the rental guy, waving her arms and shouting out directions. It’s like herding cats at these events.
A few people in the group have their own kayaks. Even though I love all water activities, I don’t own any watercraft. I have never had a convenient place to store them, but now I will at Steve’s. He has a huge shed in the back…shit. Last night’s conversation is replaying in my head again. “Love, I want you to live here. With me. I think it’s time we move things to the next level.” This should have been a beautiful, heart-melting symphony for my ears, but I sensed the elephant (ghost) in the room was mocking me.
Steve also hounded me about my art, thanks to my big-mouthed jackass of a brother. He means well, but he is so freaking clueless. I downplayed the whole thing with Steve, telling him that Ryan just feels sorry for me, since he is so much more talented than me. By the time the conversation ended (I had to pull out the big guns to distract him—literally), I had Steve convinced that I was one step up from finger painting.
As I close the trunk I hear a familiar shrieking voice. “I do not want a two person kayak. You may make it flip over. If I have my own I’ll feel safer.”
Brandon’s temples are throbbing and he is running his fingers through his thick, sandy hair. “Claire, you don’t know how to swim. Don’t you think you’d feel safer with me at the helm?”
Claire throws her bag over her shoulder in a huff and scurries over to me. I guess I am the designated mom/mediator.
“Tell him I want my own kayak.”
“Hi, guys. Nice day, isn’t it?” I grab Claire by the elbow and pull her out of earshot. In the meantime, Steve is shaking Brandon’s hand and offering his own words of wisdom. I just realized that Steve is actually old enough to be Brandon’s father. Ugh. We are like the parents with these two.
“Let go of me.” Claire worms her way out of my grasp. I proceed to give her a lecture about water safety, but she sets her mouth in a deep grimace, and walks around me while I’m in mid-sentence about what to do if her kayak should flip over. Turning to yell after her, I see Luke has arrived and is chatting it up with Diane and some of the other salivating middle-aged ladies.
I join the others in my little entourage. It looks like Violet has escaped Tony’s clutches. I look at her and say, “Hey, I see you met Brandon.” Somehow Violet and Brandon have not crossed paths in the wedding planning process.
Violet smiles. “Yes, I told him how much fun I’m having helping Claire plan their wedding.”
Claire arms are tightly folded against her chest. She suddenly reaches for Brandon and grabs him around the waist. “Honey, let’s do jumping pictures before we set off on our sail.” No one bothers to correct her lack of maritime knowledge.
Brandon leans away from her slightly and widens his eyes. “Jumping pictures?”
“Yeah, remember I told you I want us to do jumping pictures on every occasion before the wedding, and make a photo collage for the reception.”
Brandon grits his teeth beneath his smile.
Steve looks equally confused and is probably wondering if all of my friends are on drugs. He pushes his glasses up on his nose and shifts the bags he’s carrying to his other hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of jumping pictures.”
Claire reaches in her bag and pulls out her purple digital camera. “Oh, would you take them, Steve?”
Violet smiles with all her perfect white teeth exposed, and chimes in, “I think it’s a great idea. I told Claire she can even do them on the wedding day. Lots of couples are doing—”
“Let’s let the happy couple work on that. There’s someone here I thought you might like to see.” I drag a bewildered Violet away from the photo shoot.
Brandon puts up with a lot of Claire’s tantrums, but I think today he may put his foot down in front of a much older man. I need to remind Claire about emasculating men, but she’s on her own for now. I don’t know which fire to put out first. I just want to quietly paddle down the river and forget everyone’s nonsense.
“I am not doing jumping pictures, Claire!” Claire is pouting and if Brandon was smart he would divert the conversation back to the kayaking. Although that won’t help him, either.
Steve hands Claire the camera and gives Brandon a look of sympathy, leaving the lovers to sort it out. I’m relieved to see he is heading towards the rental stand, no doubt to take care of business. My Steve is so practical and responsible. If it only wasn’t for…
“Oh, good. We’re going to talk to Luke?” Violet is smiling like a little girl getting an ice cream cone and a pony ride all in one.
As we approach Luke, who is still talking to Diane, I say, “Yes, and you should probably wipe the drool off your chin—”
“There you are!” Luke jumps off the trunk of his car, where he was leaning and looking perfect and sexy. If he takes his shirt off, we could have a few casualties. “And hello, Violet. So nice to see you again.” Luke reaches out and takes Violet’s hand, kissing it. Oh, come on. Really? I narrow my eyes at him and purse my lips, but quickly force a smile so that Diane doesn’t think I’m jealous. And I’m not jealous. His charming act just sickens me.
Violet blushes (seriously?) and starts asking Luke about his kayaking experience. Diane is clueless as to the dynamic here, but I still think she has put two and two together after our restroom run-in. There is no way she believes we were talking about the Bible. That Gina. And she gets out of this fiasco with a puking kid. I never thought I would envy anyone that fate.
Diane excuses herself to get the cats herded. “I need to get everyone moving or it will be lunchtime before we hit the water.” She shakes Luke’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and again, welcome to our group.”
“Thank you for telling me all about the group’s history. It was fascinating.” Luke flashes his million dollar newscaster smile, and I actually think I am coming down with little Vinnie’s stomach problem.
I mumble my escape explanation, but Violet and Luke don’t seem to care. I should be happy about that, right? I am beginning to think he is full of shit with this “cougar” nonsense. But then what’s his angle? If he’s not trying to get me back, why insert himself back into my life?
I am still concerned for Claire’s safety and comfort on the water, but this is precisely why I never wanted children, and after all, she is a grown woman. And Brandon needs to buck up and take control with her for once, or else he is in for it when they get married. I just remembered the adoption, and how they need to grow up before they start raising someone else.
My head is spinning with everyone’s problems as I join Steve, who has secured our kayaks and prepared them for launch. Apparently he used to do some water activities prior to meeting Noreen. I just picked up this tidbit last night.
“Everything okay? There’s always been some drama in this group, but I feel like we’re bringing the mix to a whole new level.” By “we” he means me. All the loonies are my friends and exes.
“Violet is talking to Luke.” I catch him scanning the area and continue. “You’ll meet him in a bit. I just wanted to give them some time alone. I think Violet has a bit of a crush on him.” I laugh as if that’s odd.
Steve smiles and shakes his head. “You, my love, are quite the matchmaker. It never ceases to amaze me how comfortable you are with matching up your friends with your exes.” He gives me a playful squeeze.
I grin and then turn serious. With downcast eyes I say, “The past isn’t important to me.” I look up into his eyes.
Steve’s expression shifts and I see his mouth turn downward and he reaches for me as Diane bellows, “Okay, kayakers! Is everyone ready to launch into a spectacular day on the water?” Many group members cheer with their typical forced sense of reverie. These people are not going to let a little divorc
e or later-in-life loneliness get them down when there’s paddling on the river to be enjoyed.
I decide to drop our conversation and pick it up later. I take Steve’s hand and lead him towards the water, and hopefully some quiet time to sort out the morning’s events.
There are about twenty of us on the river, and it’s a beautiful day. The water is sparkling and the sun is shining. The current is slow enough that no one should feel like they are careening to their doom, but not so slow that they have to paddle wildly just to keep moving. It’s the perfect slow and easy pace to reflect on the crazy state of my life.
I survey the group around me. Steve looks serene and smiles at me every once in a while as he takes pictures or chats with a fellow paddler. Luke and Violet were deep in conversation, but now he seems to be talking to Tony. I hope they aren’t talking about me, but I doubt it. Probably reviewing the available women. I don’t know if setting him up with Gina was a good idea, but I don’t want to tell her that now. I should learn to mind my own business, but my own business is more fucked up than anyone’s right now.
I am keeping an eye on Claire. Brandon was quite annoyed with her over the whole jumping pictures fiasco, and they stood in stony silence while launching their kayaks. He did help her, but in my opinion he should be paying more attention to her. This isn’t the time to punish her by ignoring her. She looks as white as a ghost, and even though she’s wearing her lifejacket, she has no idea what to do in an emergency. Even if she falls out in four feet of water, she’s going to make a scene to rival the victims of the Titanic.
I close my eyes for a moment and let the current guide me, feeling the warm sun on my face. This is so much better than that ridiculous tanning salon. At least my white boob orbs have blended back with the rest of me. Steve never even noticed. I swear men are…
My eyes pop open in time to catch Brandon and Violet floating by, deep in conversation. Brandon is laughing hysterically at whatever Violet is saying (she isn’t funny). Hopefully she isn’t making fun of Bridezilla, but she’s too professional to do that. However, I suspect Brandon is purposely trying to make Claire jealous. That’s a shitty thing to do when he knows how scared she is. What an asshole. I can’t believe he would want to add to her pain. After all, she’s insecure and the jumping pictures is just a silly… Oh my God, what’s all that splashing and screaming?
I turn around and see Claire’s kayak upside down and nothing but arms attacking the water in a wild and desperate attempt to find the kayak or anything to grab onto. What the hell happened to her life vest? The water is fairly shallow here, but again for a non-swimmer with a water fear, falling in is a nightmare come to life.
I curse myself for not reacting quickly enough, especially since the idiots closest to her are gaping as if they can’t figure out how to help in this situation. All of a sudden Steve comes flying out of nowhere, grabbing a flailing and panicking Claire. Luckily, she’s a little thing, because drowning people often try to take their rescuers down with them. Finally Andy is in the water, too, and he flips Claire’s kayak back over and holds it while Steve deposits her back in it, and begins pulling her to a nearby island. She is visibly shaking and has lost her life vest.
Brandon has finally noticed his bride-to-be’s crisis and paddles in the same direction, as do most of the group, although some of them seem to be doing so reluctantly, as if Claire almost drowning is a conspiracy to interfere in their plans to eat lunch on the rocks by noon.
As I begin paddling faster to get over there to comfort her, and keep her from gouging Brandon’s eyes out in front of the entire singles’ Meetup group, Luke comes sailing alongside me. “That was scary. Did you see how that happened?”
“No, and apparently neither did her asshole fiancé.” I used to like Brandon, but I can’t help but want to bury his head in the sand. Or pull it out of his ass.
“Yeah, he was quite engaged in conversation with Violet.” He leans closer and whispers, “They do look rather similar. Claire and Violet. Maybe he got them confused.” He smiles devilishly. “Or maybe he’s always wanted to do it with twins.”
I shoot Luke a venomous look. Why do men always make light of everything by turning it into something sexual? At least if I do that I don’t blurt it out for comic effect, at the most inappropriate times. I can’t believe I ever dated him, and I have been wasting my precious energy trying to avoid him, as if he is so tempting and could ever compare…
“Your man certainly saved the day.” He softens when he sees my increasingly icy glare. “Rebecca, I’m being sincere. He stepped up and took care of her when she wasn’t protected. I saw him glancing over at her all morning. He could have said something to her guy about shirking his responsibility, or ignored it altogether, but he quietly observed and took charge when the situation called for it. He’s a good man. I’m truly happy for you.”
He gazes over toward Steve and Claire. She is still standing closer to Steve as Brandon tries to comfort her. Luckily for Steve, she is now accepting towels and bodily inspection from Diane and a couple of the nurses in the group.
Steve did do a wonderful thing today. Luke is right about that. Maybe I should bite my tongue a little longer, and count my blessings. Surely once I move in, I will be able to make slow and subtle changes. I am lucky, and a huge dumbass. Although with Brandon around today, my dumbassery pales in comparison.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
“And he saved my friend from drowning yesterday. I don’t know what else he could do to be worthy of…” I stop myself and feel smaller under the scrutiny of Mabel, the lady at the storage unit facility.
She reaches for her cigarettes and lighter, and then puts them down, remembering once again that she can’t smoke in this office any more. “Baby Doll, I’m just sayin’ that givin’ up your place to move in with this guy is a big step. Are you sure you want to give up your freedom? The last time I moved in with a guy he stole my tip money and Scooter.”
“Who’s Scooter?” I just wanted to rent a bigger storage space, not debate my decision making with Mabel. I have been coming in here for years, and she always has something to say about my love life.
She sighs deeply and replies, “My hamster! I loved that furry little guy. And he took him! That no good son of a bitchin’ bastard.” Her indignant look tells me that I should have known the answer, and that I have heard this story before, and just don’t remember.
I come in here at least once a month to pay my bill and check on my paintings. This is the only climate controlled storage facility in the area, and it’s right up the street from my office and condo. I could pay online, but I like to check in and make sure everything is okay. So Mabel and I go way back. I’m not going to tell her Luke is back in town. She must watch a different news network.
Mabel peers at me and takes her fingers off her computer keyboard. I hope she can find me an empty unit and that she doesn’t refuse my business on the basis of my lapsed memory and Steve’s supposed similarity to the rodent bandit. “Oh, and I love your hair that color. A girl with hair like that needs to be careful.”
I soften my expression and say, “Mabel, I know you’ve had some bad breaks, and so have I.” She nods in solidarity and I sigh in relief that we’re bonding again. “But really, Steve is a great guy and I’m not getting any younger. I think it’s time to take a leap.”
Mabel frowns and turns back to the computer. Squinting, her eyes are as small as a hamster’s, except I don’t suppose Scooter wore blue frosted eye shadow. “Just don’t take a leap into Lake Dimwit.”
She reaches for keys and starts printing a contract, so I assume she has granted me access to a new unit. “Are you sure you want a bigger unit? You really want to put the fancy art in with all your other stuff? And who’s gonna do all this movin’? And when are you gonna tell your man about this art stash? I mean, I’m not sayin’ you should. On second thought. I bet those pitchers are worth more than my Scooter or tips from the Waffle House. Maybe you keep them under wrap
s a little longer.”
She winks and her false eyelash gets stuck, almost gluing her eye shut in a permanent wink. She reaches up with a nicotine stained finger and pries her eye open. The lash has come unglued on one side and is sticking up in the air. I really shouldn’t let her go around looking like that, but now as she is cackling at her debacle, I see she also has pink frosted lipstick on her teeth. She really likes the sparkle and…
“These damn cheap eyelashes. Supposed to make me more glamorous.”
She breaks into a fit of hoarse laughter, and her hacking cough kicks in. I wish she would stop smoking. Or at least give me the damn contract so I can get back to work. Apparently there is new trouble with Tim and rumors about Samantha…
“So, cat got your tongue, Girlie? What’s it gonna be?”
“Hmm…these are valid questions. I didn’t think about moving all of my stuff into a new unit and mixing it with my art. Steve will eventually visit the storage unit with me. You’re right, I need to think this through.” I react to Mabel’s self-satisfied smirk. “I don’t mean that he would steal my art, and it isn’t worth anything. I’m not a famous artist.”
Mabel wrinkles her forehead as if she doesn’t believe me. She seems convinced that I am hiding a secret stash of Rembrandts and Picassos, and I’m afraid that someone is going to swipe them if I own up to their true value. Because everyone with a multi-million dollar fine art collection would store it at the self-storage under Mabel’s watchful eye, right? She may think I am an art thief, like a character in a movie she saw. Plus she couldn’t even secure a furry creature or a wad of singles hidden in her coffee canister.
“Mabel, I’m not. I just don’t want to hear any more from the people in my life about how I should be painting, and Steve’s wife was…never mind.”
I don’t need to give Mabel any more front row access to my problems. If she saw Steve’s house, she would kidnap me until I came to my senses. “You’re right. I should keep my current unit the way it is. You are very shrewd.” I return her earlier conspiratorial wink and she beams. Her eyelash finally loses its last bit of adhesive and lands on the desk with a feathery thud. She barely notices as she basks in the glow of my compliment.
Afraid of Her Shadow Page 19
