Sailor

 

“The Friend You Ditched for a Guy speaking,” I say to Carrie after answering her phone call.

“Really?”

I snicker. “Just kidding. How are you?” I glance around to watch the traffic as I drive.

“I’m calling to give you shit. You haven’t talked to me in days, so what gives?”

“Sorry. My life has been one crazy roller coaster ride.”

“How is Jake? Are you still shacked up with him?”

“Yep.” Pulling into a parking space in front of the condo, I put my Mercedes S-Class in park and shut off the engine.

“Why are you not elaborating?”

“Honestly … I wanted to wait until you were across the ocean.”

“Do I already need to come kick his dick, and you’re worried I will?”

“Not Jake’s, but it’s something like that.”

“Tell me now.”

“OK, but you have to promise me you won’t get in your car and drive here from Boston.”

“I can do no such thing.”

“Shit.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yep. OK, I’ll tell you, anyway, but please don’t come here. I’m handling it. I’m not only shacked up with Jake. He has a roommate, and I was stunned to find out it’s Elliott Roberts.”

In the confinement of my car, it becomes quieter. I hear her heavy breathing and the wind blowing against the Mercedes. “Speak.”

“I–I can’t believe you didn’t fall completely apart and call me when this happened.”

“I did fall apart, but Jake consoled me. I worried you’d come here if you heard how upset I was, and you have a new life to live. I won’t lie, though; this is messing with my head.”

“I imagine so. Well, what’s he like?”

“Broody and even more handsome. He apologized, and seemed sincere, but how do I let those words erase all the pain I’ve carried because of him?”

“I don’t know, Sailor, but I think this was meant to happen. It’s all too strange with the timing of the fire and my leaving.”

“I know. I’m trying to view this opportunity as a chance for closure, but I can’t stop thinking about him and the past. I don’t want to, Carrie. I only want to think about Jake. He’s wonderful.”

“Maybe once you’re around Elliott a while and talk about things, you’ll be able to move on with Jake and only be friends with Elliott.”

“That would be nice, but it sounds too perfect.”

“Once again, be careful, and don’t be afraid to reach out to me, upset or not.”

“Thank you. When do you leave?”

“In a week.”

“I’ll call you soon.”

“Sounds good. I love you, chickadee.”

“Love you, too.”

Ending the call, I rest my head against the seat. Elliott’s probably here, which means I’ll soon have to face him, and I don’t know what I’ll say after what happened at the beginning of the week.

The night I was drunk and we talked in my room, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. When he turned to leave, I spotted the anchor tattoo on the back of his shoulder. Did he get that because of me?

Then, the next morning, I walked into the bathroom to shower, and a sticky note was stuck on the mirror over the vanity. Reaching in my purse, I pull out the note to read it again. I’ve been carrying it with me ever since.

 

I’ll always remember you on the beach with a plastic container of ripe strawberries in your lap. I used to wonder what you were thinking about as you ate them and stared at the ocean. I wish I’d asked at least once. Eat the strawberries and other food, Sailor. I bought it all for you.

 

I lean my head back against the seat again and think about the days our housekeeper would pack my sister and me picnic baskets for our trips to the beach. She always included fresh strawberries.

Elliott’s thoughtful gesture and seeing his tattoo caused confusion about my feelings for him, preventing me from being able to give Jake the attention he deserved this week.

I have to find the strength to have a real talk with Elliott. One that will allow us both to move on.

 

***

I head into the condo and up the stairs to my room. I think I’ll put on my bikini and soak in the hot tub. We finally have a cool enough September day to truly enjoy it.

I come to a stop at my closed bedroom door. Another sticky note... As I pull it off to read it, my heart races.

 

I hope you won’t be angry at me for what’s on the other side of this door. I’m only trying to make up for the past. I imagine I could never do enough, but I won’t stop trying now that I have the chance.

 

What the hell did he do? Now that I have the chance… He’s always had the chance.

Opening my door, I gasp. I hear the thump of my purse and messenger bag as they hit the floor. I glance down, and shit, I’m standing on a large rug that wasn’t here before. It’s plush with the colors of light grey and white woven together.

Covering my hammering heart, I attempt to breathe as I take another step inside and look around.

The beach and ocean … Elliott brought them to my bedroom. New white furniture has replaced the old oak set: a queen-size bed, a chest and dresser, and even a comfy chair in the corner. There’s a large flat-screen television mounted on the wall, too.

The décor is not an overkill of blue, like you’d find in a time-share by the beach. Instead, the space is decorated in various shades of sea-glass green, coral and weathered pieces, like driftwood.

The entire wall behind the bed is covered in planks of aged wood in white with a hint of grey and brown. The colors in the room match seamlessly. How the hell did he pull this off in one day?

I walk over to the dresser, and next to my penguin is a jewelry dish with an anchor on it. Admiring the mirror above the dresser, I suck in another breath. I can’t believe he did all this for me.

Tears coat my eyes as I pull the small photo of Rebecca free from where it’s tucked between the corner of the mirror and the wood it’s encased in.

My sister drove me crazy, but I always imagined that if she had lived, we would’ve one day matured and been close, a time when we wouldn’t have fought over stupid shit like wearing each other’s clothes or controlling the TV.

“I figured you lost all your photos in the fire.” Jumping from Elliott’s voice, I wipe my eyes.

“I did.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s all too much, Elliott.”

“I wish you didn’t hate to look at me.”

Tucking the photo back in the corner of the mirror, I turn to face him.

“I don’t hate it, the same way I don’t hate you. Seeing your face reminds me of all I loved and lost. Thank you for the photo and this amazing room. I can’t fathom how you pulled it off in only a day.”

“I don’t know if you remember, but my mother has her own interior design business. She helped me out.”

He grins, and I admire the first one I’ve seen from him in over a decade. “Her worker bees barely made it out of here before you arrived.”

“That was sweet of her. You’ll have to give me your mom’s address so I can send her a thank you card.” My eyes travel from his smile down to his feet.

He’s in jeans and a light blue polo shirt that hugs his pectorals and arms and enhances the blue around his grey eyes. “Jake told me about your dad passing away.”

“It was a relief. He didn’t deserve to breathe.”

“Elliott … you don’t mean that.”

“I do. Mom and I took his abuse for far too long, and he started the chain reaction that landed you and me here. He did it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say those words to me ever again. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He slides a hand through his silky blond hair. He has a ton of it, but it’s thinner and shinier than Jake’s. Shit, Jake.

I look around the room. “Jake’s not going to understand why you did this for me.”

“It’ll be OK. I’ll make sure.”

“All right. Well, I think I’ll change out of my work clothes and eat something.”

“All the bags of stuff you bought are in the closet. I promise no one went through them.”

“Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. Do you have dinner plans?”

“I was going to fix something simple here. I’m tired from chasing after kindergartners all week.”

“I was thinking of ordering some Asian food. I could get you something.”

My first thought is to tell him no, but we’re managing to carry on a civil conversation, and he did something wonderful for me today. If I want to move forward, I can’t retreat.

“OK, that sounds good.”