Every Little Piece (19 page)

After another night filled with tossing and turning, I get up, the sadness and the dread pulling at me. I grasp the knob and slide open the drawer. The envelope is still crammed in the back. I tug it loose and trace my fingers over the typed print on the front. The memorial service is tomorrow. For a brief second, I debate opening it but then cram it back in and slam the drawer shut.

I don my apron and throw my energy into waitressing. I laugh the best I can. I flirt with the patrons, and I joke with Justine.

But it doesn’t matter how many lame jokes I crack or how many times I force my lips into a smile, I can’t forget that when I ran last year, I didn’t really leave my past behind. This whole year it’s been hurtling toward me at full speed like an out-of-control train careening down the tracks.

Katie shows up after lunch with a chipper smile. Her eyes are bright and happy, untainted by the bad things in life. Her every laugh and smile stabs into me, and I need to escape. Thankfully, it’s Justine’s turn to continue training her today. I beg off for the afternoon, and I know exactly where I want to go.

The beach.

I want to soak in the early summer sun, even if it’s still a little chilly. Let the sharp smells and ocean breeze wash away my cares. This past year, the ocean has been my solace. A place where I’m accepted with no questions asked. In my room, I tear off my apron and dig around for sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I’m not a runner, but I like to walk.

I leave through the back entrance and run into Katie, her hands full of two overflowing trash bags filled with stinky garbage.

“Oh, hi,” I say. I help her out, amazed at her smile, even when carrying smelly leftovers.

“Thanks.” She throws the second bag in the dumpster then stands as if wanting to say more, her fingers wrapping around the strings of her apron.

I study her. She knows all about Seth this past year and everything he’s been doing. She might even know why he’s back.

She flashes me a knowing grin. “Go ahead. Ask away. I can see you’re dying to ask about Seth.”

“Um.” I stumble over my words. Was I that obvious? I spent the last year learning to hide all these emotions, and she sees through me with one glance. Maybe there’s more to her than her happy-go-lucky appearance.

She laughs. “Don’t worry. Seth is burning up with questions about you, so I figured you might feel the same way.”

This is my chance, but I don’t know where to start. Will asking these questions let him back into my heart? Remind me of all that I’ve lost? “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.”

Katie shrugs but stops at the back door before going back to work. “Seth never told me anything about last year or why he came to live with us. He’s been a closed book.” Her voice softens. “But something’s been tormenting him, and he came back to deal with it. I have a feeling you’re a big part of that.”

I nod, but I can’t find the words. A lump forms in my throat.

“Please,” Katie asks, her eyes pleading. “Give him a chance.” Then she goes inside.

I head over to the beach and walk furiously along the shoreline. The crash of the waves is a comforting white noise. I fall into an easy rhythm, walking and letting my mind go blank for most of it. But Katie’s words haunt me.

Give him a chance? I battle between breaking down and giving him that chance or closing up and telling him to leave me the hell alone. He wants to purge himself of his guilt and then leave me again. I’m not sure I want to be that for him. I shake it off and keep walking, focusing on the different shades of sand passing between my feet, the shifting colors. Early tourists yap and take pictures. I turn around and then head back. When I’m almost back to my starting point. I stop and stare.

Seth is sitting with his arms on his knees, staring out at the horizon. I walk closer, my steps soft on the sand. He looks lost, and my heart breaks all over again, pulling me in two different directions. I’m invading this private moment and should leave him alone, but I can’t seem to get my feet to move.

The shadow of a nasty bruise streaks across his lower jaw. “What happened?”

My words pull him out of his trance, but he smiles, faintly. “I had a run-in with a fist.”

I don’t ask because I have a feeling I know who it is. “Yeah, sorry about that. I mentioned you to Noah.” I might as well talk to him instead of texting him. I plop down in the sand.

“It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’ll heal,” he says.

Then we sit, side by side, staring out at the skyline and the clouds that seem to kiss the water so far away. So many words inside fight for attention. I want to scream, yell and cry. I want to hit him over and over, so he can feel just a little bit of the pain I’ve felt this past year. Instead, I dig my fingers into the cool sand. I’ve seen the pain in his eyes when he thinks no one’s looking. I’m not alone.

He clears his throat but still waits a few seconds. I focus on the curling waves creeping closer to our feet and the swirl of white foam. Like a milkshake, the froth slowly disappears and then slides back into the sea. It comes and goes.

“You never answered my text,” he says.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Listen, I know it would be easier for me to never have come back. It would be easier to pack right now and leave you be. But I can’t.” His voice grows hoarse. “I just can’t. Regardless of what happens, I’m here, to tell my side of the story.”

“You’ve mentioned that,” I say dryly. My mouth suddenly goes dry. I’m not sure I want to know the truth.

“Let’s start with something easy.” His fingers twist then untwist. “Are you free this afternoon?”

“Depends on what you want to do.”

He digs his feet under the damp sand. “You’ll have to trust me.”

He stands and brushes the sand off his pants. He holds his hand out and flashes me the goofy grin I’ve known my whole life. The smile I fell in love with. My heart squeezes, and I breathe deep to control the flood of emotions. The sun hits the side of his face, revealing the bit of stubble. His lips are a tiny bit chapped. Slowly, my gaze moves to his eyes. They plead with me to say yes.

This moment seems to hang in time, and I have two choices. I can tell Seth to leave me the hell alone, which I think he would honor, or I can take his hand and give him a chance. He doesn’t deserve a day, never mind three, but I’m not stupid. To move past everything and get on with my life I need to hear him out. It might hurt, but then maybe I can let go of him. Forever.

I take his hand. His skin feels soft and warm and images flash through my head. Of all of us hanging out at the pool hall, playing soccer together, fooling around. Jamie, Carter, Brin and Kama. My throat constricts but the tears don’t come. At some point, they all dried up. I haven’t let myself go there in months.

I duck my head but his eyes catch mine, and he immediately pulls me into his arms. I don’t fight or argue. He doesn’t try to get me to talk. He just holds me and for the first time in a year, I feel a little bit normal. But that one memory sparks others and everything I’ve been holding back for the past year floods my brain.

His arms hold me tighter, and I bury my face into the crook of his shoulder. It’s been months. No one has understood. Not Noah. Not Justine. Not Tate. No one has been there to hold me because they’ve walked my road. They want to poke and prod into my deeper feelings and get me to talk about them. But sometimes I don’t want to talk. Sometimes memories are too painful. With the flood of sadness comes the waves of guilt and this is why I can’t move past the memories. This is why I can’t bury the past and say goodbye. This is why I refuse to open that envelope.

He doesn’t let me go. The ocean breeze whips around us and tourists start to set up their spots with chairs, coolers, and umbrellas. Joggers whip past. Old men with their dogs shuffle by. This feels good. His warmth seeps through my sweatshirt and reaches the depths of me, the parts that have been frozen for the past year.

“I’m not ready for this,” I croak out.

He kisses the top of my forehead. “I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. If you ever need a hug you let me know. No questions asked.”

I pull away. “Sorry about that.”

His hands move to the sides of my face and his eyes search mine. His thumbs stroke my cheeks. “I think you’re ready.”

I tense.

“To have fun.” He smiles. “You’re ready to smile a little bit this afternoon. I promise you’ll feel better.”

I glance toward the Seaside Inn. “I don’t know. I should probably check on Justine and Katie and make sure the restaurant isn’t too crowded.”

He pulls out his phone and sends a text. Seconds later, his phone buzzes. He slides it back into this pocket. “Katie says they’re doing fine. And how can you say no to ice cream?”

“Ice cream?” I tap my chin as if in deep thought. “Well, I guess I can’t say no to that.”

Her smile lights a fire in my chest. I haven’t seen that smile in a year. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes yet, but we have the rest of the day. I lead her back to my car, not letting go of her hand, and she doesn’t pull away. I walk slower as we close in on the boardwalk, because the real world will crash in on us. To feel her soft skin and feel the beginnings of trust pass between us is the best I’ve felt all year. It’s like we’re in a bubble, protected from the past year.

But our feet hit the sandy pavement of the boardwalk, and she pulls her hand away as if suddenly wondering how she let it happen. I’m okay with that. Small steps toward the truth.

Once we’re in the car heading for the other side of town, she speaks. “Where we going?”

“No where you’ve been before. And no where near home.”

I throw that in there because that’s what she really wants to know. I see it in her eyes. Being with me is dangerous. I know too much, and she fears I might accidentally bring her back to the past. Like when I brought her to the pool hall.

“Is it far from here?”

“We’re not going to leave town.” I flip on the blinker and turn right, away from the ocean.

She falls silent, but she’s nervous at the unexpected. She bites her lip and plays with the tear in the fabric of the front seat. She used to love surprises.

“Hey,” I say.

“What?” But she still peers out the window.

“Trust me.”

She still gazes at the passing scenery and doesn’t respond. I say trust me, but I don’t expect her to yet. And in a few days, she never will again. That fact crushes me. A battle rages inside, pushing me to what I have to do, but at the same time, whispering to my heart to keep my secrets. Not say a word.

I don’t dare turn on any of my music because she knows it all and we have memories to almost all of them. I let the silence fill the car and our minds. Minutes later, I pull into the Boys and Girls Club.

“Are you lost?” she asks.

“Nope.” I smile. “You ready for some fun?”

“I guess.”

I see her hesitation, but also the hope in the small smile she gives me. I get out and open the car door for her. She hesitates, like she wants to stay inside, protected from an experience that might open her heart to living again. I grab her hand and help her out. We walk toward the large brick building. The basketball courts outside are busy with action. Kids cheer from the sidelines while others are sweating it up on the court.

“We’re here to watch basketball?”

“Nope.” I squeeze her hand. “You’ll see.”

We enter from the gym side and the stale smell of old sweat makes her nose crinkle. I let go of her hand to give her space, and on the other side, I knock on Mandy’s door.

“Come on in!” she calls.

I lead, and Haley follows me.

“Hi, Mandy. This is my friend, Haley.” I step to the side. “Mandy is the director of the Boys and Girls Club.”

Haley reaches out and shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Out west,” I explain, “besides working for Katie’s dad, I volunteered at the Boys and Girls Club, so I decided to check this one out.”

“Oh.”

Haley can’t seem to find anything else to say but looks at me with new revelation passing across her face. Like she’s just discovering the Seth of today.

I don’t miss Mandy’s brief look of question as she studies the two of us. She must see through my pretense of friendship. Grief and pain is written all over both Haley and I, and someone in Mandy’s position won’t miss that. She won’t miss the almost-severed connection between us.

Mandy is the first to break the tension-filled silence. “Follow me.”

She leads us to the other side of the gym and down a hallway to a large room. The cement walls are painted a faded orange and the industrial carpet is a lime green. The room smells like dirty socks. Two plastic tables are lined up in the back of the room, and in the far left is the door to the kitchen. She points to the cupboards, all labeled with white tape. “All the supplies are in the cupboards, and the freezer’s in the kitchen.” She looks at her watch and back to the door. “You comfortable setting up?”

“Sure. I’ve helped out at a ton of these events.” I glance sideways at Haley who’s staring at me. I can’t help but wink. “And with a partner it should be no problem.”

Mandy gives us the once over. “Okay. You’ve got about thirty minutes before the flood of hungry, sweaty kids hits.”