by Marlie May
Eli unbuckled. “I’ll help you with your things.”
“No need.” It was beyond time I handled life all by myself. I opened my door and climbed out, turning to lean back inside. “It’s only my clothing. My pillow.”
He shoved his sunglasses up onto his head and squinted at me. “It’s more than that.”
That. “I locked up when we left Friday. I’m sure everything’s fine.” For the first time since I’d come home three months ago, I didn’t have an overwhelming urge to drag him through my apartment to check every corner for threats. Fear wasn’t controlling me at the moment, so I latched onto the notion and held it close.
“It’s a lot to carry upstairs.” He nudged his head toward the back of the Jeep.
I hated to keep him when he needed sleep. He still had to hang the wet tents on a line to dry. Clean the coolers. Put everything away in the top of his garage. Unless he chose to do most of the chores later, he wouldn’t get to bed for at least an hour. “There’s less for me to carry than there should’ve been.”
He growled. “If that asshole comes near you again, he’s dead meat.”
“I believe Cooper took care of it.” I hoped so, anyway. If Tom was wise, he’d seek out someone else, someone who didn’t remind him of his dead wife. Even better, a woman who was interested.
“Decent of him, but I should’ve been there to take care of it.”
Since I’d slunk home seeking whatever comfort I could find in my family, Eli had become my protector all over again like when they were kids.
A mix of frustration and warmth filled me. I hated that he felt the need to hover. “While I appreciate you guys coming to my defense, I’m going to start doing things for myself again.”
He cocked an eyebrow my way then opened his door and climbed out.
I met him at the back of the Jeep where he lowered the tailgate and slid my plastic kitchen tote to the edge. I took one end so we could unload it onto the lawn together. The tote wasn’t heavy, just awkward. “I’m going to take self-defense classes.” An idea that had been hovering in the back of my mind for more than a month. I’d almost asked Cooper to teach me but he’d be gone soon. That squeezing feeling took up residence in my chest again. Had it ever left?
Focus on now, not on the empty husk you’ll be when he leaves.
We dropped the tote on the lawn and returned to the Jeep for the second.
“How long is Cooper in town, did you say?” I asked as we settled the second tote on the grass.
“Didn’t say.” Eli straightened. “Ginny—”
Cringing, I held up my hand. “Don’t. I just…It’s okay.”
His eyes probed deeply, but I raised my shields and projected an expression I hoped suggested I can handle this.
“You sure?”
My quick smile must’ve reassured him, because his shoulders loosened.
“I just forgot to ask him myself.” Hadn’t dared to, actually, because I had no right to that knowledge. But I ached to know. How long until I had to say goodbye?
“Five days,” he said.
If I pressed them out flat, five days could feel like forever.
“How about you?” I asked. His eyebrow lifted again, but he damn well knew what I was talking about. He couldn’t pull one on me. “Who’s Mia?”
A soft rumble flitted through his chest. “Just someone I met before I got injured.”
From the quick way he’d questioned Cooper, Mia was more than just someone. “She’s Flint’s sister.”
“You know Flint?”
“Met him on the base when I went there with Cooper.”
Eli leaned forward. “Coop said Mia was with him.”
“Gorgeous. Long, strawberry blonde hair. Petite. That the one?”
“Hell, yeah.” The words sighed past his lips.
From what Mom told me after I moved home, women had made it clear they were interested in my brother, but he hadn’t been on a date since he was discharged. Was he holding himself back because of Mia? “Who is she to you?”
“It’s not like I’m hung up on her.”
“Didn’t say you were.” But he was. “Come on. Tell me.”
“I met her when she came to stay with Flint in California, while he was packing to leave the service.”
“Before you were hurt overseas?” He’d also been stationed at Port Hueneme for his last few years in the Seabees.
“I asked her out. She…shot me down. Said long-distance relationships never worked.”
“And now she’s living in Crescent Cove.” According to what Flint suggested, Mia might be as interested in Eli as he was in her.
He glanced toward town, and the longing in his gaze made my chest tighten. “Maybe. Guess I’ll find out eventually.”
“I hope you run into her again.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Eli never could fool me. “If that was the case, you wouldn’t have asked Cooper about her.”
“Told you. She said she wasn’t interested.”
“Maybe and maybe not. Her feelings could’ve changed. You don’t live on opposite sides of the country any longer.” Assuming she was still single, she might give him a second chance. If she turned him down again, it looked like my brother was headed for heartache.
Like me.
It was tough tacking down hopes and dreams when the heart was involved. Something Eli and I shared.
I stepped around my camping things and hugged him. Maybe the first real hug outside of hey, I’m heading out we’d shared in ages. He patted my back, and I swore he started to say something, but his spine tightened and he clamped his lips together. He stepped away, and my arms fell to my sides.
He grunted. “I’d tell you not to hurt Coop but then I’d have to tell him the same thing.” He coughed. “Already have, actually.”
“Please tell me you didn’t discuss us.” Talk about making me squirm.
“Not too much.”
Okay, so my life would be easier if I didn’t explore this further. “If it helps, I don’t know where this is going, either. If anywhere.”
“I get it.” He stared wistfully toward town again—where Mia might be living now, totally unaware that my brother hoped to meet up with her again. Returning to the back of the Jeep, he grabbed my bag of clothing and dropped it beside the totes. “I’ll help you take your stuff up onto the deck.”
I reached for one of the kitchen totes.
“I’ve got it,” Eli said.
“Your…” I cut myself off. He hated when anyone suggested his injury made him less capable than the next man in doing whatever needed to be done. Keys and pillow in hand, I followed him down the stone path beside my house and up the back stairs to the small deck outside my home’s entrance. He took the stairs carefully. Damn IED. Shrapnel nearly took his leg off. He’d recovered—somewhat—but his career in the Seabees had been over.
After dropping the first tote on my deck, he insisted on carrying the second up as well, while I muscled my bag of clothing, feeling particularly useless.
Eli dropped the second tote and turned to me. “Can you get everything inside from here?”
His red-rimmed eyes told me he needed rest more than he needed to breathe.
“Of course.” I’d empty the totes and put them inside the storage shed in my back yard. My clothing, I’d dump in the washer.
“I’ll see you around then.” His sneakers thudded unevenly down the wooden staircase.
I reached toward my door, key extended, but stalled as I stared at the knob. “Eli!”
He paused and gazed up at me, studying my face. His soon reflected my concern. “What?”
“My door’s open.”
His expression tightened, and he stomped back up to join me.
“You know I always close everything up tight.” Lord knows I was more than vigilant about security.
Eli peered around me, into the darkened space.
My skin crawled at the thought of someone violating my privac
y, and my lower lip trembled. “Someone trashed my things at the campground, and now this.” Said in a high-pitched voice, the one I’d perfected after moving home. Once again, I was clinging to my brother, something I’d determined to avoid. But what else could I do? The situation was freaking me out. My cheeks burned. “Would you mind making sure everything’s okay inside?” Damn, I hated crumbling like this, but what if this was the real deal and I’d been robbed? Worse, what if someone waited for me inside? Two people were better than one measly woman who couldn’t host enough defense to fight off a ladybug.
“I plan to.” His chest expanded, and he breathed through tight lips. “Wait here.” He pushed the door fully open and stepped into the entryway. “Looks okay so far.”
I was grateful my home hadn’t been destroyed like my campsite but my heart still competed in a road race of one. I followed Eli, but halted in the entry, darting my eyes around, seeking anything that would indicate someone had been here while I was gone. Nothing appeared out of place.
An island with bar stools separated the small kitchen from the dining and living areas, but the fact that it was only one large room made it easy to survey the area. To make the place cozy, I’d hung some photos on the walls. They weren’t askew. Colorful pillows still lay scattered around on the furniture exactly where I’d left them. Beyond the living room was a huge, cedar deck—one of the major selling points of my home. I crept forward to look, and the furniture sat like I’d left it before going camping.
I owned two acres, which included a broad lawn with decent plantings, and a strip of woods behind. My nearest neighbor was a good shout away, giving my plenty of privacy if I wanted to sit out in the evening. Now, the lack of anyone nearby heightened my home’s isolation.
Eli appeared from the hall leading to my bedroom, poking his head into the half bath along the way. He strode up to me. “Everything looks okay.” Scratching his neck, he winced. “I hate to mention this, but are you sure you didn’t—”
“Could you look downstairs, too?” I nodded to the door leading down to my photography studio.
“Of course.” He said it like he meant it, but I had to wonder. Was he getting tired of investigating all the time but never finding anything? Now that my initial fear had faded, begging him to examine every square inch of my house made me come across needy. Weak.
“I’m sorry.”
When he glanced back at me from the top of the stairs, a hint of resignation lurked in his eyes. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Tingling spread up my chest and landed in my face, flushing my cheeks further. I slumped on the sofa, barely resisting the urge to curl into a ball and fiddle with my hair, something I hadn’t done since I was a kid. I fiddled with the fringe on one of my pretty throw pillows instead. When would I be strong enough to handle situations like this by myself? Relying on Eli forever wasn’t an option. He had his own life to live.
He returned from downstairs and braced his shoulder against the entry doorframe. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Do you think I’m making this up?”
“Not for a second. Your door was unlocked. But outside of kids painting graffiti on the side of the high school during basketball playoffs, Crescent Cove sees about one crime a year.”
“What about the librarian, Mrs. Clark? She said someone broke into her house. Stole her purse.”
“They found it in her car where she’d left it.”
I’d forgotten that detail. I blew out a noisy breath. “I distinctly remember locking my apartment door.”
“But you went back for your camera.”
I’d locked up after retrieving it, hadn’t I? Jeez, it was hard to remember now. Friday felt like a lifetime ago. “Maybe it didn’t shut fully.” Easy to say, but hard to believe. Mistakes like this happened to regular people all the time, maybe even to me. At least no one had entered my apartment to steal while I was gone.
Setting the pillow aside, I stood. “I appreciate you looking around.”
“You know you can call me anytime.” Said with the same solid voice he’d used since I returned home a total wreck. Was his patience holding true, or was I on borrowed time? “You’re all set, then?” As in, did I feel secure enough so he could leave?
“Yes.” I’d have to feel that way because he needed to sleep, not hang out and hold my hand. Each minute here was one less he’d have in bed before he had to return to his job.
“I’ll call later this week to check in.” He stroked a strand of hair off my face and pushed for a grin. “Mom will be home next weekend. We should get together for dinner.”
I rested my shoulder against the white-painted doorframe. “I’d like that.”
He stepped out onto my deck. The breeze stirred his hair until he stuffed his baseball cap on his head, squashing it. “Bye.”
“Thank you again.” I called out as he paced down the stairs, “And good luck with Mia.”
His feet paused, but he didn’t turn. His chuckle slipped out. “She’s just a friend.”
Like I believed that. I just hoped she had fond memories of my brother.
I watched as he got into his Jeep, started it, and then backed down the drive. With a beep of his horn, he accelerated, heading toward his home.
“Okay.” I exhaled, spiking hair toward the sky. Time to get organized. But I had one thing to do first. Pulling my phone, I typed Security Systems, Farland, Maine, into the search engine. I doubted there was a company in Crescent Cove. My town was too small. One popped up on the list immediately. Could things get much easier than that?
I dialed the number. Why hadn’t I put in a system the second I bought my house? Maybe because Eli told me I didn’t need one, that my deadbolts and window locks would be more than enough.
The person who answered the phone assured me they’d send someone out first thing tomorrow morning to give me an estimate. No guarantee they’d get anything installed right away but—for a hefty fee—they’d accommodate my need for urgent building security.
Hanging up, I pocketed my phone. This wasn’t just for my own personal safety. I had valuable items here. Special equipment and costly chemicals I used in my business. Cameras I’d hate to have stolen.
I reached for my camping things but paused.
Oh. Another tiny painting. Weird that Eli left it on top of my bag rather than just give it to me directly. But maybe he’d wanted to give me a boost after he left, knowing I’d find it and smile.
I’d have to ask him why he was so secretive about them. Sure, he’d been embarrassed about his artwork during high school, but this was just us. He must know I treasured each bit of himself he gave me.
This painting was of the Deer Isle Bridge. We’d crossed it once during a trip to Little Deer Isle, stopping on one side so I could take pictures. I loved that he was recapturing our shared memories with art, and I’d put this one with the other two he’d given me on my mantel.
I slid it into my pocket and hauled my camping things inside, then slid the deadbolt. Staring at the locking mechanism longer than necessary, I assured myself I had locked the door. This time.
I was setting my camera on the coffee table when I noticed the position of my magazines.
My legs started shaking, and I lowered myself onto the couch.
The magazines lay in a scattered pile.
Not the tidy stack I’d left last Friday.
20
Cooper
The second floor of my father’s place awaited me. Parked in the drive, I stared toward the two-story building. At one time, this place had offered me welcome. Love. A home. Now it only delivered backbreaking labor.
As promised, the dumpster standing in front of the one-car garage had been emptied late Friday. The black cavern inside waited to chew through the rest of my memories.
I locked the car and took the walkway toward the house where I keyed the front door, unsure why I’d bothered to lock the place up. It would’ve been easier to put an everything free sign on the front
lawn, rather than bust myself hauling it all out.
Who would’ve thought that a man who left his house only to buy alcohol could’ve collected this much crap over the past twelve years?
Grabbing a box from the now-empty living room, I strode into the kitchen to finish emptying the cabinets. Any nonperishable food would go to the food pantry. Pots and pans, too, because they told me they’d distribute everything to those in need.
“Damned shit.” I dumped a drawer full of congealed spices into a box. Left over from when Mom was alive, most likely. Dumpster-fodder now.
An hour later, I’d finished up in the kitchen and was taking a breather on the front steps with a bottle of water in hand when Ginny texted, Hey. How’s it going?
Just hearing from her brought my smile out in full force. Decent. You?
Okay. I’ve unpacked all my camping stuff, and I’m catching up on my accounting. Man, I hate adding up long columns of numbers. I think my brain’s going to burst.
I wondered how her business was doing, whether she’d turned a profit yet, but wasn’t sure I should ask. That felt personal. Like we were a couple.
Hell, I considered us a couple already. But what we had was only for a few days, not the beginning of what could turn into a lifetime. I didn’t have the right to ask about every facet of her life.
Deciding to keep this casual, I texted, We still on for dinner tomorrow night?
Why had I put her off until tomorrow instead of taking advantage of every free moment I had to see her? I could’ve gone over later and begged her to let me stay the night. Instead, my lonely hotel room waited for me on the other side of town.