Chapter Seven
I lay still in the softest, warmest bed I had ever slept in. I had tossed and turned most of the night, sleeping intermittently, thinking about the man in the room next to me, whether asleep or awake. He filled my restless dreams. I found myself in his arms, yelling at him, kissing him, and woke with an ache that wouldn’t go away.
I pulled my knees to my chest and curled up like a ball. I honestly never thought I would see Porter again. Certainly not like this. I didn’t want to feel this pull toward him. Even last night after he finally got the zipper unstuck, I had this unnatural desire to want to keep talking to him. I shouldn’t care about his life. He obviously didn’t care enough about mine, leaving the way he did. We had both moved on. He had a life in Lake Tahoe and I had one in the lab. We would part today and that would be that.
Perhaps this needed to happen. I didn’t think I ever worked through my feelings for him. I buried them and focused on getting through school. It was a survival technique I learned long ago. But I was past only surviving. I had a career to look forward to and a life outside of school. I needed to look to the future, not keep clinging to memories.
I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair. It was almost seven. I never got up this late. Not like I had really slept. Today I was going to say goodbye to Paradise. I wanted to see its coastline one more time. The sun was starting to creep up. I got out of bed and threw the robe over the negligee. I had to admit I felt feminine in it. All I wanted was to see the beach I loved so much. Hear the crash of the waves. Breathe in the scent of Paradise before leaving it all behind for the last time.
I opened the double doors that led to the patio and pool. The cool morning breeze hit me. It was perfect. I heard the waves before I looked out to see them. The white sand married with the water. Seagulls played and squawked in the background. I hoped to see some dolphins; sometimes they came close to the shore.
“Good morning.”
I grabbed my chest. He needed to quit doing that.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I turned toward the voice to my left. My nemesis was sitting on a lounge chair in the same jeans from last night, still no shirt. He looked more tired than I felt, as if he hadn’t slept at all.
“I didn’t know you were out here.” I pointed back to the door. “I’m going to go back in.”
“Please don’t.”
I pulled the silk black robe tighter around me and sighed. Why did he make me want to stay? “What are you doing out here?” I tried my best not to stare at his chest.
“Thinking.”
I focused on their pool of crystal blue water complete with rock waterfall and slide. Their backyard was a slice of heaven, lush and already full of ornamental grasses and hibiscus. Porter promised me someday we would take a dip in the pool. That day would never come.
“It’s a beautiful spot . . . to think.”
“Even more so now.”
Adrenaline caused more local blood flow in my cheeks. “I really should go back in.”
“Holland, I think we should talk.”
“What about?” I continued to stare at the scenery.
“If I put a shirt on will you look at me?”
“No.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
I lied. I turned and gave him a quick smile. I shouldn’t have. He looked amazing, with more stubble than the night before and a smile to melt my heart. That wouldn’t do.
“I need to get going. I wish you all the best in Tahoe.”
He stood up, anxious. “Will you at least let me apologize?”
I breathed out in exasperation. “If it will make you feel better.”
“It won’t.”
“Then why?”
“Because what happened the last night we saw each other isn’t what you think.”
I tilted my head. “Evil twin brother?” I don’t know why I joked. Maybe because I couldn’t bear to hear the truth.
“No.”
“Clone? Freak magnetization of your lips that drew you together against your will?”
“No.” He was becoming more frustrated by the second.
“Hologram?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Will you please stop?”
I held my stomach, waiting for him to respond, though I was sure I already knew why and I didn’t want him to say it out loud. I didn’t want him to tell me I wasn’t enough for him.
He stepped closer. Musk and sandalwood filled my senses, intoxicating me.
“Holland, I was a coward. I should have told you the truth.”
I stepped back. “You’re right. You should have. But I got the memo, loud and clear.”
“No, you didn’t. At least, not the right one.”
I shook my head and headed for the door. “It was a long time ago. You don’t owe me any explanations.”
He took my hand. The ionic bond I used to feel was still there. Oppositely charged ions coming together to make something better together than apart. It was an illusion. I pulled away and headed back in.
“I was going to leave you, Holland, but not like that,” he exclaimed.
He got my attention. I stopped before reaching for the door.
“Demi caught me off guard that night. I swear there was nothing between us. But when you caught us, it seemed . . . perfect.”
My head whipped his way. “For who?”
He lowered his head. “For a coward looking for a way out. I was suffocating here.”
“I suffocated you?” I tried but failed to keep emotion out of my voice.
His head lifted. His eyes made direct contact to my heart. “No. You made leaving almost impossible.”
“I see.” I felt as if he’d slapped me. As weird as it sounded, I felt better when I thought he cheated on me.
“Do you?”
“I wasn’t worth the truth.” My voice was strangled.
He began to reach for me but didn’t quite make it. His eyes were pleading. “No. I mean, of course you were.” He paused gathering his thoughts. “Holland, I was twenty-one and trying to figure out life.”
I shook my head, trying to understand why that mattered. It didn’t excuse what he had done. “I was eighteen and naïve. But just so you know, you could have told me the truth. I would have told you to go.” I took one more good, long stare. “Goodbye, Porter.”
I hurried in, waiting to feel a rush of closure. I finally got to say goodbye. I stood against the door and waited and waited some more. Any minute now, Porter would be leaving my limbic system. Waiting. Waiting. Come on already. I’d faced him and said goodbye. It was over.
Tears began to prick my eyes. I wanted to forget him, maybe even hate him, but I still saw the man that secretly paid for my senior fees and cap and gown when I told him I wasn’t going to walk to get my high school diploma. He was the only person that came or cared to see me graduate. He stood in the back of the auditorium so as not to be seen. He crept out as soon as I received my diploma.
I should have been valedictorian or at the very least salutatorian, but no one from Cokeville would have that honor. The school district had varying levels of socio-economic classes across three towns. Those from the upper class made sure their children were always on top. I was told I didn’t receive the honor because of some discrepancy in my transcripts from the previous high school I attended my freshman year. There was nothing I could do about it. No parent to go to bat for me. But there was Porter, holding my hand, telling me it didn’t matter. That I would show them.
Now here he was standing outside my room. Telling me after everything we shared, he couldn’t at least tell me the truth.
I wiped my eyes. I wasn’t that girl. Now I was a woman. The woman Porter always thought I would be even when I doubted or thought the obstacles might be too great. I never thought he would doubt me. But he had. I meant what I said. I would have told him to go. To figure out who he was. It would have hurt, but I would have mustered up the courage to tell him that I loved him. At least I think I would have.
Then I would have told him that I would wait for him until he found the man I already knew he was. Or at least who I thought I knew. But maybe that’s not who he wanted to be. Maybe he wanted to be the playboy on the slopes, not the man who always found a way to make me smile or who read bedtime stories to his little sister. And though I know it was difficult for him, he always did what needed to be done for the Clairborne. Whether it was filling in at the front desk, fixing minor plumbing issues when maintenance was busy, or helping re-stock the shelves of the souvenir shop. He did whatever it took, even if he complained afterward this wasn’t the life he wanted.
That I could never understand. Perhaps I never really understood him. And . . . he probably didn’t tell me because he didn’t want me to wait for him and knew I would. He didn’t want me.
I closed my eyes, willing Porter out of my system, my heart. In Porter fashion, he didn’t want to seem to budge. I could picture his charming smile. I shook my head as if that would push him out. I could hear him laugh in my head like he was enjoying my attempts to rid myself of him. Why did that make me smile? I was supposed to hate him, or at the very least not be attracted to him. Though, the body on the other side of the door was worthy of viscid fluids. Drooling sounded too juvenile.
A knock on the bedroom door shook me out of my thoughts of opening the door I leaned against to get one more look of Porter’s chest. I needed help.
“Come in,” I called.
Mrs. Clairborne walked right in with several pieces of clothing draped over her arm, looking like she’d been up for hours with flawless flowing hair and makeup that only enhanced her natural beauty. How did she get her hair so shiny? Not to mention what did she do to keep in shape? She looked gorgeous in her tight white sweater and navy shorts.
“Good morning, honey. I hope you slept well.” She laid the clothes she’d been carrying on the bed that I felt guilty for not making already. “I figured you might want something to change into instead of the dress you wore last night.”
I pushed away from the door, hoping my eyes didn’t look like I had shed some tears. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but I’m fine wearing the dress. I’m going to call a tow truck and my boss and get back to Mobile.”
She didn’t listen to me. “Nonsense.” She picked up a floral off-the-shoulder blouse and made her way to me. She held the blouse up against me. “I think this would look lovely on you.”
I stared down at the blouse before meeting Mrs. Clairborne’s hopeful eyes. “I can’t. I’ll have no way of getting it back to you.”
She continued to hold the blouse against me with a warm smile. “I was going to give these away anyway.”
I stepped back, shaking my head. One thing I swore when I got on my own was that I would never wear hand-me-down clothes again. “Again, thank you. I can’t accept your charity.”
She tilted her head. The smile was gone, replaced with pressed lips. “You remind me so much of myself.”
I tried to keep my eyes from squinting. As much as I wish that I was like the elegant woman in front of me, I knew I never would be.
Her smile returned. “You don’t believe me.” She lowered the blouse and took my hand. “Come sit on the bed with me.”
I found the request odd, even more so how easily she showed affection. I followed her and sat next to her, but not too close. As much as I craved affection, I didn’t receive or show it well. Porter had to be patient with me. It took me a long while before I ever initiated any type of physical touch. Our first kiss was probably the most awkward kiss of all time. Not because of him, but my lack of experience. I blurted out right before his lips landed on mine, “Those tacos were amazing,” referring to the dinner we had shared earlier in the evening. He didn’t laugh, he only gave me the most tender of smiles before brushing back my hair and whispering, “They were the best ever.” As soon as he got me to smile his lips made my insides sing. His lips’ gentle caress was short and sweet that first time. He never pushed or made me feel uncomfortable. As time went on, the kisses grew longer and more heated. I shook my head. What a thing to think about while his mom held my hand.
She studied every inch of my face while squeezing my hand.
I tried to stare off into the distance, but there was something about her that drew me in. Though not biologically related to Porter, I could see where he inherited his incredible ability to connect with you without speaking. Perhaps it was why I hadn’t been able to forget him.
“Holland.” Never had my name sounded so revered. “I know it may be hard to believe, but I came from,” she sighed, “let’s say, difficult circumstances. Maybe like your own.” She gave a tentative smile. “But I was lucky enough to have mi tía, my aunt.” Her Spanish roots came out. I believed her mother was from Mexico and her father was American.
“She taught me that I could rise above my circumstances. And somehow, though her circumstances weren’t ideal, she always managed to make sure I had a new dress and pair of shoes every year. I’ll never forget what she did for me.”
“Is she still alive?” I hesitated to ask.
Her brown eyes pooled with moisture while she shook her head, yet she still smiled. “She lives in my heart.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. But, honey, what she offered me wasn’t charity. It was a light in what was otherwise a very dark time for me.”
I pulled my hand away. “I’m happy with my life.”
She took my hand right back. “No one’s saying you’re not. You’re an accomplished young woman. You should be proud of your life.”
I peered into her eyes. “I am.”
“Good.” Her grinned turned more mischievous. “But there are hard times even in a good life. Some things that are out of our control.”
“I’ve turned down lucrative job offers,” I defended the state of my life.
“I’m not questioning your choices. I’m letting you know you’re not alone.”
My nasolacrimal ducts seemed to have a mind of their own the last several days. I wiped at my eyes.
She patted my hand before standing up. “Now I’m going to run a bath for you while you choose an outfit. Then we’ll have breakfast.” She turned to go but didn’t quite make it. “Did you and Porter talk, by chance?”
I nodded. “We finally said our goodbyes.”
You would have thought someone siphoned all the serotonin out of her by the way her entire body seemed to deflate. “Well,” she cleared her throat, “I’ll see what I can do—”
I narrowed my eyes.
“About your bath, that is.”