“Oh my God! Did you guys know that?”
Mandy again looked at her friends across the way. Everyone shifted in their seats, clearly uncomfortable with where this conversation had gone.
“Mandy, why don’t we talk about something else? I’m sure if Jill wants to talk about it she will bring it up,” Ross said, turning his attention back to our extremely awkward conversation.
When I glanced up, I could see the concern reflected in his eyes. Mandy switched gears and started talking about other local town gossip.
Ross continued to look at me and mouthed, “Are you okay?”
I nodded slightly, reflecting on all that had occurred. Ross knew my story. This recent revelation did not at all surprise him or the rest of the group. They all knew my story. I was the sad women who lived alone in the beach house that her husband had bought her, only to die before he could present it to her himself. The thought depressed me as I finished my beer.
“I think they are about to start the show,” Zach said, turning up the radio as the announcer finished thanking all the sponsors for supporting the firework display. Everyone got up and shifted around to get a better view of the distant pier where the fireworks would be shot off. Ross moved closer to me and leaned in to say something just as the fireworks started. I asked him to repeat what he had said, but he shook his head and said it could wait. In all reality, I loved fireworks. I thought they were the most romantic thing. They made me feel like I was a child again. Jay never really cared for fireworks but always agreed every year to attend some ridiculously overcrowded fireworks show because it excited me.
The display continued to boom over us as patriotic music played on the radio. The soft crackle and fizzle melted into the night sky as another loud pop accompanied an entirely new display. A collective gasp or sigh could be heard from the group as everyone became entranced by the display. Ross again shifted his position next to me and his hand brushed mine. I looked into his eyes, and he smiled a shy smile before taking my hand. Another electric sensation ran through my entire body, causing me to break his stare and focus my attention back on the firework display.
After the display, several people got up and left, but for the most part everyone stuck around, talking and continuing to drink.
“Ross, when are you going to play?” Mandy whined, and several other people around the circle also jumped in, encouraging Ross to play.
“Alright. I left my guitar in the car. I’ll be right back.”
There was general applause and a cheer from the group as Ross let go of my hand to get up and took off on a jog down the beach.
“He’s so talented,” Mandy commented, again leaning in next to me.
“I haven’t really ever heard him play.”
That was mostly the truth. I knew he played that one night at my house, but I was not in my right state of mind that night. I shuddered and tried to put the thought out of my mind.
“Oh, he’s really talented. He played all the time growing up, even went to school for music,” Mandy added. She was really into knowing everything about everyone it seemed.
“He had a couple gigs and auditions with some big-name bands,” Mark chimed in from across the bonfire.
“What happened?” I asked, drawn into the enthusiasm for Ross and his talent.
“His mom got sick,” Mandy whispered.
Several people looked uncomfortable for the second time that evening and started other conversations. I wondered if Mandy’s sparkling personality was always this direct.
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“No. She died. Breast cancer. I guess you both have that stuff in common.”
“That stuff?” I asked, shocked at how she could know that my mom had also died from the same horrific disease.
“You know, losing someone close to you,” she said and turned her attention to something someone else had said.
Mandy seemed to have a knack for delivering unsettling information, either that or the sentiment of it all was completely lost on her. I decided on the latter. Yet she was more accurate than she could have ever known.
“What—” I had so many questions and Mandy seemed more than eager to share.
“Ross,” someone in the group called out.
I looked up and saw him jogging back to the group, guitar in hand.
“We were worried that you might have gotten lost and where never coming back,” I quipped as he sat down.
“And leave you here to fend for yourself? Never.” He winked at me and adjusted his guitar.
Over the next several hours, Ross played the guitar, taking requests from almost everyone in the group. The fire began to die down and people started to get up and leave. Soon the only ones left on the beach as the embers burned down were Ross and me.
“Anything you want to hear?” he asked, bringing me back from my thoughts.
“Um … I’m not really good with music,” I stammered, caught off guard by his question. It was true. I liked my classics, but I was not a music aficionado by any means.
“It’s fine. Just tell me your favorite song.”
“You’re that good you know them all?”
“Try me.”
“Alright … New York—”
“Oh, the Jay-Z song.”
“No. ‘New York, New York,’ the Frank Sinatra song.” I sighed.
“I was just kidding. I know that song … Just relax. You’re too serious.”
He started to play. The melody engulfed me. As the last of the embers died down, Ross softly sang the lyrics to no one in particular and I truly felt as if we were the only two people in the world at that moment.
“You’re really talented,” I commented when he was all done.
“Thanks, but it’s just a hobby,” he said, brushing off my compliment.
“You’re way too good for it to be just a hobby.”
He gave me a sly grin and stood up. “It’s late.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you. Thanks for a nice evening.”
I stood up and started back toward the house.
“Wait up. Let me walk you,” he called after me.
“It’s right there.”
I paused and pointed in the direction of the house. He jogged up next to me, guitar over his shoulder.
“Humor me. Consider it peace of mind.”
“Suit yourself.”
After several quiet moments, he cleared his throat.
“Listen, Jill, I’m really sorry about Mandy. She really doesn’t have any tact and I—”
“Ross, it’s not your fault. It was bound to come up in conversation … eventually. But let me ask you a question. Why did you invite me tonight? You barely know me. You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you and I’m older and … broken.”
It came out much more serious than I had intended. Ross paused before answering as we reached my back deck.
“Ever since that first night, I can’t stop thinking about you.”
He was close to me now, looking directly into my eyes. I was pretty sure I had stopped breathing.
“Bad things happen … to everyone …” He paused and closed his eyes for a moment as pain flashed across his face. “But you are not broken.” He leaned in closer and kissed me softly on the cheek. “Goodnight, Jill.” He turned and headed back down the beach leaving me frozen in my place.
“Night,” I mumbled several minutes later when he was already too far down the beach to hear me.
As per my nightly ritual, I walked through the house, locking up all the doors and turning on several lights. As I made my way upstairs, I glanced at my phone and I could see it was after two in the morning. I sighed and walked to the window, staring out into the dark abyss. What was I doing? My life had taken such a twist that I never imagined myself here in this moment. Was I ready to get involved with someone so soon after Jay had passed? He was the love of my life. Is there enough room in one person’s heart for more than one person? I knew I was overthinking things. It was just a peck on the cheek, but it also meant so much more.
That night was no better than other nights. Nightmares continued to haunt my sleep. I hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour when the first one ripped me from sleep in sheer panic. Letting my breath slow, I got out of bed and headed downstairs. On the kitchen counter sat my journal from the other night. I stared at the journal as thoughts continued to flood my mind, overwhelming me. Having no other release, I grabbed the journal from the counter and sat down on the sofa and let everything I was thinking and feeling flow onto the pages and just like the other day, the words came easily and freely. Losing track of time, I wrote until the sun began to rise and my eyelids grew heavy.
At first I thought I was dreaming. The knock sounded as if it was in the distance, but after several moments, it became louder. I opened my eyes slightly, feeling a bit disoriented, only to find Ross and his uncle standing on the back deck, staring at me through the glass door.
“Ah,” I yelled out with a start, knowing I had fallen asleep on the sofa while writing.
Ross seemed to chuckle over my reaction while Jeff seemed embarrassed for startling me.
“One minute,” I called out through the glass and held up one finger.
I quickly raced upstairs and grabbed my bathrobe. I glanced in the mirror, did some minor adjustments to my hair and quickly brushed my teeth. Gathering my composure, I raced back downstairs and opened the back door, letting Ross and Jeff into the house.
“Mrs. Greenfield, I’m so sorry about—” Jeff started to say.
“No. It’s okay, and I said to call me Jill.” I waved my hand to indicate their interruption was nothing.
“Looks like you were burning the midnight oil again,” Ross joked.
“It’s actually the first time in months I was actually burning the midnight oil, as you say.”
Ross looked as if he had a follow-up question but refrained from asking it since his uncle was there.
“Jill, I just wanted to update you on our progress. We are almost done with the deck. The roof and windows have been completed. We will be painting the house starting tomorrow—”
Jeff was interrupted by the melody coming from my phone. I held up my hand quickly.
“I’m so sorry. Can you excuse me for just one minute?” I asked.
“Sure,” they both echoed.
I quickly scanned the kitchen for my phone and located it on the table. I grabbed it, punched the button, and walked into the other room.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” I called over my shoulder.
“Who is making themselves comfortable? I take it the beach rendezvous was a success?” Stella said over the line.
“Um … I was just speaking to Ross and Jeff.”
“Who are?”
“Jeff, as in Jeff Powers, who is doing all the construction on the house, and Ross is his nephew,” I whispered.
“Why are we whispering?” she whispered back.
“I didn’t want them to hear me.”
“Anyway, all very fascinating, but I have some serious business to discuss with you,” Stella said, getting into what I referred to as her “lawyer mode.”
“Okay.” I tried to focus my attention on whatever she had to tell me.
“I need you to come to New York in the next couple of days. It seems that the paperwork Paul Wellon sent us is time sensitive and I need you to come sign some documents.”
“Can’t you fax them?” I asked. The idea of traveling after spending months being shipped around by Lanie and Stella was not appealing.
“No, we need to go over other things and get some accounts set up, etc.,” she said and I could hear her drumming her fingers on a hard surface.
“Where are you?” I asked, trying to place the call in context.
“My office. Why?” she asked, distracted.
“No reason. You were saying?”
“You need to come to New York,” she said again with a little bit more annoyance in her voice.
“Yea. I guess I can do that.”
I wandered back into the kitchen and put the water on to boil so I could make some coffee.
“I can book you on the first flight out of Wilmington in the morning. It will have two layovers, or there is a direct flight from Raleigh,” she said.
“There is just one problem with your diabolical plan. I don’t really have a means to get to the airport at either location.”
“I can take you,” Ross chimed in from the living room.
“That’s right. Ross would be more than happy to take you.” Jeff echoed his nephew’s sentiment.
“See. Ross can take you,” Stella mimicked on the phone. “Who is Ross? Oh, is he the guy from the beach? He’s in your living room? Very interesting.”
“Yes, very interesting.”
Looking at Ross, I asked, “Are you sure you can take me?”
“Yup. No problem.”
“Do you have a preference for Wilmington or Raleigh airport?” I asked him.
“Whatever.” He shrugged.
“Raleigh it is,” Stella said, making the decision. She always liked to fly from larger airports, claiming the accommodations were much nicer.
“Sure. Fine. You can text me the details.”
The kettle on the stove started to whistle. I turned it off and motioned to Ross and Jeff to see if either of them would like a cup of tea or coffee. Both respectfully declined.
“How long am I staying in New York?” I asked Stella.
“Three days.”
“Very precise.”
“Well, I have a lot of work right now. I can’t get too distracted.”
“Same arrangement as always?” I asked.
Prior to Jay’s accident, Stella and I had a standing agreement that whenever I came to visit in New York, we would always check into a hotel and treat ourselves to a girls’ spa day. Her first apartment had been so small, we just couldn’t fit. She now lived in a nicer apartment on the upper West Side, but we still had our tradition.
“It’s been too long. Yes … and you’re treating … I was thinking the Fairmont or Trump Tower—”
“Do I need someone to pick me up when I get back?”
“Oh, actually, you do not. I have arranged or will have arranged by then for your new Jeep to be ready and waiting for you at the airport upon your arrival.” She was very proud of the work she had done.
“Fantastic. See you tomorrow,” I said, trying to end the conversation.
“Pack light,” she said and we hung up.
I immediately turned my attention to my guests, who were still waiting for me. “Very sorry about that. I have some business to attend to in New York suddenly and I will be out of town a couple days.” I looked at Ross and Jeff.