Chapter Thirteen

The Hardest Thing to Do

 

 

Claire watched Colin from her bedroom window as he walked down the dirt path to the guesthouse. His gait was fast and his look was determined; she even noticed his fists were in balls. She ran downstairs to keep the drama out of the confines of the house…out of earshot from Alex.

His hand was on the knob when she swung open the door. “Colin, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Claire, I need to talk to you.” His brow was furrowed.

“I know.” She pushed his chest with her hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Alexander had wandered back into the yard from his walk on the beach. The bottom of his pants had been folded up, the edges of them marked with water. Both of his shoes he carried in his hand.

“Is everything all right you two?” He must have seen the urgency in both their actions. The no-time-for-small-talk look and rush of their bodies passing him by.

“No,” Colin said with an abrupt thud. End of sentence, and don’t ask me anything else.

“I’ll be right back. Please don’t wait for me to go to dinner, Mr. Prescott. I’ll catch up later.” Claire turned her head while still moving forward, trying to catch up to Colin.

“All right,” he said loud enough for her to hear him.

“Colin, would you wait up? You’re walking too fast.” It was just then that her foot slipped into a hole. Something an animal created and it was hidden beneath the pine needles scattered on the ground. “Ouch, damn it!” She grabbed her foot.

Colin turned around and ran back for her. She was five paces or so behind him when it happened.

“Claire, are you okay?” He bent down, holding her foot and examining it for injury. She grabbed his back for balance. “What happened?”

“I think I must’ve twisted it back there. Why are you walking so fast?”

“Because I can’t get away fast enough. From Emily, her dad, my dad, that stupid Alex and his dad. All of them. They can all go to hell. It’s not like I don’t know what they’re trying to do.” He dropped her foot accidentally during his tirade against the Prescotts and Hamiltons.

“Okay, just leave it alone. I’m all right now.” She hobbled over to a tall pine tree and supported herself against it. She could see sight of the house through the trees.

“Let’s leave right now, Claire. Let’s just do it. Get in a car and drive, and never look back. What do you say?” He leaned in to study her eyes. His hand held the side of her cheek.

She said nothing—only stared at the ground. It took all she had not to take him up on it.

He dropped his hand and took back to pacing, smoothing the side of his hair with tightly pressed fingers.

“And then what, Colin?” Claire dropped her sandal on the ground and massaged her ankle.

“What do you mean?” He stopped and looked at her. “Then we go back to New York and you’ll start your job and I’ll find one doing something. It won’t be difficult. I’ve got a degree in business finance. Surely there’s an employer who would give me a job.”

“What about what you have now? What about the plane, the airfield, the Manhattan brownstone, the job, your inheritance? I can’t let you throw it away, Colin. Not on me. Your dad would never forgive you.”

“What? What are you talking about? Of course it’s all for you. I’ve never felt like this before, Claire. You make me feel free, alive, that I can do anything…be anything. I’ve always felt like there’s no way out. But there is with you. You’re the one I choose. If Dad wants to take everything else away because I won’t kowtow to his demands, I don’t care. I can work and save money for a plane of my own, one day. One that doesn’t come with chains that hold me to a place and job I’ve never wanted. You’re worth more than a plane or money, Claire.” He stood in front of her, his hands resting on her shoulders. Waiting for her to look back at him.

She knew she couldn’t. He’d challenge her decision—the one that safeguarded his, his sister’s, and his mother’s fate.

She said it slowly and quietly. He’d have to concentrate to hear her right. Because she could only bring herself to say it once. “I think we got carried away with ourselves and the crazy notion we could change the world with one summer. I don’t think this is going anywhere.” Her heart glitched and she swallowed hard to continue. “It was a crush, a good time had by all, but now it’s over. You don’t have to choose me over your family. I’m releasing you, Colin. Trust me, you’ll be happier when you’ve had time to think about it. This was going nowhere. We’re two entirely different people. I’m used to living alone. You’ve always been surrounded by your family.” The lump in her throat felt the size of a potato. She imagined internal bleeding, too. Lots of it. The source coming from her heart. If ever she’d wondered what Juliet felt like, it was now. There was no escaping this fate.

“What are you talking about? Stop saying things like that.” He squeezed her tight, holding her captive with his blue eyes. The same ones she saw every night when she closed hers. Wondering whether it was all a dream and she’d finally wake up from it. Well, this was the alarm clock. Time to let him go.

“I don’t feel anything for Emily, if that’s what has you talking like this. I’ve set her straight. There is no future for us. She knows that. I love you, Claire. I want to run away with you. We’re happy together. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Isn’t that enough?”

The mere words began to break down her constitution. Loud pops and shards began splintering where there used to be bullet-proof glass. She had to think quick or she’d find herself taking his hand and running so fast she’d leave her injured ankle behind. Twisted around the bony branches that lay fallen on the forest’s floor. Ankles weren’t a necessity when you were riding on the wings of love.

She took a deep breath, found the last shred of her defense, and dove in for the kill with what strength she had left. “Colin, here it is. I don’t love you. I thought it was love, but it turns out it was just mistaken rebound.” Her body was as stiff as a steel rod. The compression of her shallow breaths hurt her lungs to breathe.

“Rebound? What are you talking about? I thought you’d been taking care of your mother these last months. You said how hard it was to study and stay focused. You never mentioned a guy.” He cocked his head, his eyes almost slanted. He let up his grip on her arm and took a step back.

“His name is Rex. We’ve been dating for about a year. It was on and off, and more off when Mom needed me. I’d had a huge fight with him before coming here. I guess I wanted to get back at him and sleep with you. And then it escalated into some sort of fantasy I knew could never come true because deep down I’m still in love with him.” She fought back the tears she knew were waiting to bust through. They couldn’t roll out…not now. “I’m so sorry.”

Colin backed away from her, his eyes holding such sadness and disbelief. She reached out for him, but he moved. She could hear his breath quicken as he violently combed through his hair with rigid fingers.

“Colin, you don’t know me. You have no idea who I am. I’m like this. The truth is I can’t be alone for any short time. I don’t have a family so I need to constantly feel loved.” She lowered her head in shame for lying the way she was. But it had to be convincing to stop him from loving her. “I was using you. And when I saw you with Emily, I became angry and called Rex.” She stared at a piece of bark on the tree behind Colin’s head. “It turns out he was miserable without me, too, and asked me to come back tomorrow. I’m moving in with him when I return.”

He covered his eyes, shaking his head. She wanted to puke. To impale herself with something, anything. How could she lie to the only man she’d ever loved? In the name of the family who was coming up on her short list of things to abhor. If she had to belong to a family built on lies, she was glad to remain an orphan.

He turned away, facing the direction of the house. His hand rested on his hip. She wished she could know what he was thinking. To be able to reach out and touch him. But she’d lost that benefit. Did it hurt as much as it was killing her? As if someone had just taken the plug from her life support and all she could see as her eyes began to close was his face looking back in disbelief?

“I’m so sorry.” She placed pressure on her ankle so she could touch his shoulder. The pain paled in comparison to what her heart was going through. “I never thought it would get this far with us. I shouldn’t have acted so crazy about Emily. Especially when I had Rex.” She waited for him to respond. “Say something, will you? Hit me, yell at me—do something.”

He never turned around. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He took a few steps, then took off running in the direction of the beach.

With tears that had finally spilled down her cheeks, she ran toward the house. Pain burned through her foot and up to her knee. The pain felt good, however: it gave her something to channel for focus.

 

∞ ∞ ∞

 

Claire fell through the door, holding her ankle. Streaks of tears marked her face.

Alex jumped up from the sofa and ran to her. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine.”

She wouldn’t look at him, hobbling like an injured bird to the staircase. She tried valiantly to make the first step and fell forward, catching herself before she nose-dove into the carpeted step.

“Shit!” she yelled out. “Why is this happening to me? Shit, shit, shit.”

Alex took her by the side and tried his best to direct her to the sofa. “Come on, hold on to my neck. You can’t walk. I’ll carry you to the couch.”

She reluctantly held around his neck with both arms and he hoisted her in the air. She tucked her chin and kept her eyes down.

“What happened?” He put her down and placed both her feet on the worn green cushions.

She covered her eyes. “I fell in some godforsaken hole out there in the woods. I’m such a klutz. And the animal who dug it should be forced to fill it.”

“Why didn’t Colin carry you back? Where’d he go?” He waited for her to respond. He knew they were together; he watched as they walked off toward the tree line from his window. “Did he leave you like this, Claire? Did he know you were injured?”

“It’s a long story.” She closed her eyes. “I deserve this. And much worse.”

“That bastard! He’s just like his dad. To leave a girl stranded in the woods. Typical of that jerk.” Alex knew it was more than just her ankle that was making her upset. “Is there something else wrong?”

“Where’s your dad?”

“He went to dinner. Melanie called about five minutes ago.”

“Maybe you should go, too. Why haven’t you?” Her lip quivered when she asked. Her breathing was less labored now.

“I was waiting for you to return. I thought we could walk there together. Dad said you told him that you’d be right back.”

“I also said not to wait for me. I’m not going to dinner. So you can go ahead.” She stared at the wall behind the television. Her face was void of color—void of life.

He looked for a tissue and retrieved one next to a crocheted doll on the side table.

Claire took it and wiped her nose. “Thank you. And I’m sorry I just snapped at you. This is totally not me.”

“Don’t apologize. I get it. But I’m not leaving you like this. Besides, your ankle looks like it’s got a sprain, and you seem like it’s not all that’s troubling you. You don’t have to talk about it, but if you want, I’ll listen.”

She let out a writhing cry and smooshed her eyes together until a trail of tears fell down her face. She quickly sponged them up with her tissue. “Oh my gosh, you must think I’ve lost my mind,” she said, muffled by holding her tissue underneath her nose.

He fetched another one for her. “Not at all. I have a mother. I see this all the time when she watches sad movies. Or happy movies, for that case. It’s sometimes more entertaining to watch her than the screen.” He began backtracking. “Not that I find it entertaining to see someone upset. It’s just the lamest movies in the world can make her cry. Like some cowboy who saves a girl’s ranch and they kiss and ride off into the sunset. Mom goes bonkers over things like that.”

Claire let out the tiniest of smiles before she began sobbing again.

It was heartbreaking to see a pretty girl cry. He wanted so badly to hold her and tell her whatever it was would pass and she would be fine. Instead, he rested on his knees, feeling little prickles as they began falling asleep from the hardwood floor. He dared to place a hand on the sofa cushion. Just somewhere so she knew he was there for her without overstepping the boundary of having only met her an hour ago.

“Let me see if Frieda has something in the freezer to put on your ankle. I had a sprain once from playing handball and the doctor told me the cold would take the swelling down.” He stood to go look.

A Ziploc bag of frozen cut strawberries. That’s all there was, aside from loaves of bread and crab legs, in the freezer. No peas, no ice, none of the normal things that usually hung out in freezers. He took the berries and rested them on her naked ankle. She jumped at first.

“I’m sorry. Let me get a towel to help shield your skin from the cold.”

“No, it’s all right. Lay it down. I’ll be fine. Trust me, I don’t deserve the towel.”

She adjusted herself, pulling down the hem of her dress past her knee. Her crying spell subsided once again. Her breathing had equalized and the color of her nose was changing back from red to peach.

“Oh Lord, how completely embarrassing this is!” She tilted her head back toward the ceiling. “I don’t even want to know what you’re thinking. You and your dad come all the way here to have rest and relaxation and you find a lunatic bawling in a guesthouse that you’re forced to stay in overnight. I can’t apologize enough.”

“Hey, stop apologizing. I have a feeling someone else should be saying the same thing to you.” He knew Colin was behind whatever was making her sad.

“No, trust me, this was no one’s fault. I’m just suffering from naiveté.”

He looked into her tender, painful eyes and wondered whether he would ever be privy to the secret she was protecting now.

 

∞ ∞ ∞

 

There was a knock on the door of her room. “Come in.”

Alex stepped inside.

“I’m sorry, am I keeping you up?” She pulled another tissue from the box on the bed. Thirty used ones peppered the blue bedspread cover. Her nose throbbed, as well as her head.

“Not at all. But I don’t like hearing a girl cry and not being able to do something about it. Do you mind using me a little and try to talk about it? It couldn’t hurt. I know for sure it isn’t helping by not saying anything. It’s obvious you’re distraught about something.”

His eyes were full of concern. An easy smile came to his face, velvet and smooth just like the one he flashed her when they first met. She couldn’t decide whether he was sent to her as a gift from her mother or just another Prescott in sheep’s clothing.

“I really can’t talk about it. But I promise to be quieter in my fits of anguish.” Her eyes felt as though they were laden with weights.

It was two in the morning and Claire hadn’t been able to sleep yet. Alex’s dad had brought back some leftovers for her and Alex to share. She gave up her portion after stealing a piece of Frieda’s homemade loaf bread. It seemed to be suppressing the catcalls of her empty stomach.

Alex had helped her to her room, where she had laid on her bed ever since, crying and blowing her nose until her head was popping with the pressure of a shaken Coke can.

“Can you change the names of the parties involved? Say for example, Jack and Jill? Hansel and Gretel? I don’t need details. I’m pretty good at vagueness.”

Somehow she doubted changing the names would do anything to disguise who it was. And why was he so interested? He looked as if he would be more interested in stock tips. He had that “booky” look to him. As if he wrote and read contracts all day. Important ones. His designer Italian shoes told her that. He couldn’t have been involved with anything blue collar—his hands were too neat for that.

“What do you do, Alex? For a living. Other than helping girls in the middle of the night suffering from pity parties?”

“Okay, so you’re going to distract me with questions about myself, huh? That’s fine. Shall I?” He pointed to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, please. Just don’t get attacked by the tissues.” She moved her legs over and piled the tissues closer to her.

“I’m an architect, like my dad. He and I are in business together. Our firm is in New York City.”

“I see.” She tried to focus on him and push away the other thoughts that’d stained her mind. She wondered if “Colin stain” would be easy to get out with detergent and cold water. Or whether it was something that would always remain. Just get a little lighter as the years went on.

“What do you do, Claire Ashton?”

“What? Other than twist ankles, and cry like an idiot all night in a home other than her own?” She gave a half smile. “I’m a geneticist. Well, let me correct that. I’ll be one in two short weeks. I just graduated from college.”

“Congratulations.” He rested his hand on the bed and supported his body. “And how is it that you’ve come to Kelly’s Cove?”

“Oh, I assumed the Prescotts spoke to one another. You know, mentioned wayward friends who came every summer for a few weeks. I’ve been coming up here with my mother since I was ten.”

“No, we don’t really talk about guests and visitors. For that matter, we really don’t talk.” His brow raised. “Did your mother come with you this time?”

She bit her lip to escape another breakdown. Once you slid down the slope of pity, it was kind of hard to stop. “No, she passed recently.”

He did a face palm. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“That’s all right. How could you?”

“It’s just that—”

“You know what? This is going down as the worst year of my entire life. Bar none. I really wish you didn’t have to come into the middle of it like this. I really am an okay person. I mean, I don’t do this at all. I’m the one, like you, who laughs at people who cry at movies. I used to drive Mom crazy, making fun of her.”

“What can I do to make your year better? Or even now. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

He looked so positively sincere when he said it. Leaning in toward her, accidentally touching one of her dirty tissues and not minding in the least. His eyes were engaging…his brow was pensive.

She was thinking.

“I just want to have the world feel my grief. You know, like be able to stop it from turning on its axis for a moment and have someone announce in a loudspeaker from space that my life sucks right now.” She picked at the sheet on her bed. “That’s so stupid, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. I could probably go outside and do my best, but then you’d have James, Colin, and that other snooty family probably all call the island police, and—”

“Oh my gosh, don’t you dare!” She smiled, almost forgetting for a brief second she was lying in a pool of misery.

“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin and thought. “Has the swelling gone down in your ankle at all?”

She looked down at it. It seemed normal size, just a little weak when she stood on it a few minutes ago when she used the bathroom. “It’s getting there, I guess. Much better than earlier.”

“To be safe, maybe I should carry you.”

He stood and bent over to pick her up.

“What are you doing?” She pulled back her arms, not going willingly.

“Trust me?” He paused and looked into her eyes.

She did. For some reason, she really did.

“I’m taking you out to talk to the world, little lady.” He scooped her up. She laced her hands around his neck and looked into his eyes with suspicion. He had a strong neck and his jawline was scratchy from having not shaven yet. She sucked in, hoping it would take off a couple pounds of her body weight. His breath was barely labored. At least he appeared to have been carrying a bird and not an elephant.

They got downstairs where he placed her down on the rug next to the front door and walked to the kitchen. Alexander was awake, watching some infomercial on television. He sat up and turned down the volume.

“What are you two doing? Alex?” He looked toward the kitchen before settling his gaze on Claire.

She shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Dad, I’ll be back in a little bit. We’re going to catch some turtles making babies on the beach.”

He’d come into the room holding something hidden underneath his arm. Claire shot him a puzzled look and opened the door. She didn’t remember ever seeing turtles at Kelly’s Cove at night.

They made it to the beach. Her ankle was feeling stronger now and Alex had borne most of her weight as they walked there through the path of trees. She held tight to his arm and felt comforted by his companionship. At least someone was with her in her hour of deep depression. Surely her mother had sent him, and she was grateful.

The night creatures were just as loud here as they were at the beach house. The eerie owl sitting among the tree branches called out a few times. She felt him watch them as they walked in the darkness, only a half moon lighting the way. Thick pine needles made it easier to traverse the path.

“Are there really turtles here? I’ve never seen any.”

She could see the silhouette of Alex and make out his features in the dim light. And his smell…she could smell him better with each breeze that blew by. It was a worn fragrance of nothing she’d smelled before. Colin had the smell of his deodorant that she would sense every now and then, but Alex had the perfume smell of something a fancy department store would sell behind the counter. The comparison of smells from Colin to Alex was an instant killjoy…a reminder of how much she missed Colin and his familiar smell.

“I’m not sure, but I hope there are some little turtles. That’d be awesome, wouldn’t it?”

“Sure. But if you’re not certain there are turtles, what are we doing here?” There was a loud screech in the darkness of the tree line, making her get closer to Alex for protection.

He took the mystery package from beneath his arm and took the towel off it. It was four dinner plates stacked. He presented them to Claire as some sort of offering.

“Frieda’s plates? What in the world are you doing bringing them out here? Don’t tell me we’re going to have a picnic or something? Certainly you didn’t see this coming, with me breaking down in my room all night and have something made and waiting out here for us to eat?” Corny, but you never knew with the Prescotts. “It’s an unusual thing as I’m always famished, it seems. But I couldn’t stand eating right now.”

He hid his grin. “Um, no, this is certainly not a picnic. This, madame, is your megaphone. Let the world hear your cries.”

“What are you talking about?”

He walked over to the concrete wall that was holding back the erosion from the hill above. The whiteness of it stood out starkly against the dark night.

“I had a girlfriend once who was big into new age psychology. She’d always have us use these big, inflated boxing gloves when we fought about anything. I felt like a complete moron, but it turns out it helped release my frustrations.”

“You hit a girl?” She was shocked.

“No, silly. I knew better than that. I hit the wall. She, on the other hand, hit me. But that’s okay. At least I knew that she knew I was actually there.”

“What does that mean?”

“Long story,” he said, still holding the plate. “Let’s just say I’m sure it wasn’t me she was thinking about when she was crying into her tissues. It’s my credit cards she was crying over.”

Claire grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s no biggie. I should’ve caught the hint when the second question she asked when I met her was what car I drove.”

“Yikes.”

“But enough about me. Let’s let the world hear your cries. Take the plates and crush them into the side of that wall there. I want to hear every piece of porcelain weep as you do it.”

“I can’t do that. These might be family heirlooms of Frieda’s.” She tried to make out the details of the plate he held in his hand.

“Trust me. I saw the Pottery Barn logo on the back before I took them. I’ll send her another set when I get home.”

“You’re sure about this? It’ll make me feel better? It sounds maddening.”

“Trust me on this. When that thing shatters, you’ll feel the tension drain from your body. If I’m understanding the concept correctly, it might act in the same way as having sex.” He shrugged and his mouth stretched into a questioning frown.

“Angry sex?” She only knew one type and it had nothing to do with anger.

“Or something like that. I don’t know. Just throw it. Tell me how it feels.”

Claire hesitantly took one from his hand. She cocked it back and threw it as hard as she could, sending it into a million pieces when it hit the concrete. It felt good—it actually felt good to hear it break. Something released inside her when it hit. Her breathing felt smoother, releasing toxins when she let the plate go, perhaps.

She took the next one he had waiting for her. She grinned. “Say, do you have room in your car for one more passenger tomorrow? I think it’s time for me to leave here.”

He smiled back. “I think I can even find an extra box of tissues for the road.”

“Let’s hope I’ve pulled my last one out. I don’t know if I have any tears left.”

She threw the next plate with a vengeance. To hell with all the Prescotts and their secrets and reasons for two people to be kept apart from each other. She might have fallen in love with the wrong guy, but she’d be damned if she was going to stick around to tell it to future generations of them. The heartbreak stopped there.