by Alisa Mullen
All those thoughts seemed to calm me until the blond woman with Brennan dropped her sunglasses and they both stopped to make sure they weren’t broken. We walked slowly by and I looked straight ahead, pretending the love of my life wasn’t mere inches away from me.
“What do you want to do now, Jules?” Pierre asked, rather loudly. My heart sped up and so did my steps. He tried to keep up but he was falling behind. A large hand landed on my shoulder.
“Pierre, I... ” I said as I turned to look directly into Brennan’s beautiful, dark brown eyes, mixed with a little green from the blue sky. His eyes were just as wide as mine were.
“Julia?” he asked in bewilderment.
“Oh...Brennan... hello,” I said as casually as I could. I sounded like a twelve year old. I probably looked like one, too, with my Trapper Keeper in hand.
“How is it going? Long time no see!” I continued to say as I bounced a bit on my heels.
He looked at me and then shook his long dark curls in bewilderment. Blondie came up next to him, as I felt Pierre close in on me.
“What brings you... uh... two,” I said as I looked at Blondie’s arm wrapped around Brennan’s side. “... to the island?” I laughed nervously. What brings you to the island? Jesus. How fucking cliché.
“Hi,” Blondie drawled and put her hand out to me. “I’m Sasha. And you are?”
I took her hand in mine and smiled at her warmly and it was genuine. “I am Jules.”
I looked over at Pierre, “and this is my good friend, Pierre.” Pierre shook Sasha’s hand politely and Brennan stood there, white as a ghost. When his eyes flicked to Pierre, there was a flash of something awkward. Abort. Abort. Abort.
“Well, we won’t keep you two. It is such a beautiful day here.” I said. I was smiling so hard it made my fucking cheeks hurt.
“You look so different,” Brennan said in a hushed voice. He was still in stunned mode.
“Aw, I hope that’s a compliment,” I laughed as I poked his arm. He flinched at my physical touch. That was maybe a little too forward on my part, I guessed.
“Wait a fucking minute,” Sasha snapped her fingers and shouted. “You... you are Jules Delaney, the lead singer from the Love Sick Ponies.”
I cringed inward, outward, and all over the island. I did a quick scan to see if anyone noticed her outing me. I looked over at Pierre who was grinning widely and rocking back on his heels with his arms crossed. I shot him a deadly look.
“Beautiful Julia is more than just some lead singer,” Pierre said. Brennan came out of his trance fast and his sudden, glaring look almost killed Pierre.
“Wow, can I like, get your autograph?” Sasha asked as she started looking through her enormous bag.
“Sorry,” I said with a tight smile. “I don’t give out autographs anymore and I am just Jules around these parts.”
“Oh. That is too bad,” Sasha whined. She gave up looking. “Well, Brennan, we should head up to the bed and breakfast. The wedding starts in like three hours and I have to get to work on my makeup.”
I squinted at her face. Her makeup was flawless already and I felt Pierre laugh a little behind my back. I put my hand behind me to grab his. I needed solid. He was my solid. He would help me see the funny stupid shit in this dreadful reunion. Or maybe I would just take Loves on that walk and sob across the beach.
Either way, I was done with this fucking conversation.
“Well, it was nice to see you again, Brennan. You two kids have a great time,” I smiled and waved as I started to walk away. Pierre helped me adjust my backpack strap as I let the shakes overtake my body. I was not good. I was far from good. I wasn’t sure my awesome muscular biking legs could take one more step.
I quickly looked back over my shoulder. I couldn’t help it. One last look. I saw Brennan standing where I left him. He looked like a statue as Sasha was talking up to him, waving her hand in front of his face, looking quite irritated.
I gave him a small wave, a small smile, and I locked my arm through Pierre’s once again. We walked back to my bike and I told him that I forgot to leave food for Loves. He understood something just had gone down and tried to come along.
“Listen, I just need to go take care of my dog right now... alone. Okay?” I didn’t really ask, as I was already on my bike and he didn’t have one. As he kissed me on both cheeks, he reminded me of our appointment the following Saturday. As I took off, I yelled back that I wouldn’t miss it. Paris sounded really fucking good. Like right now. I could catch the next ferry, get on the plane, and be speaking French in less than twenty four hours.
I decided holing up in my monstrous house was better. It was just one weekend, I hoped.
TWENTY-SEVEN
So I was a chicken shit. I called Kelly and Joanie right when I got back to house and canceled on dancing Saturday night. They asked why, of course.
“Brennan is on the island” was met with complete silence. We didn’t say very much after that. The rest of Saturday I spent on the beach with Loves. He and I played ball and then stick for hours. My skin and mouth felt totally dried out by the time we made it back to the house. I wasn’t in the mood to cook so I threw in a frozen pizza and settled down with a cheap romance novel. That was absolutely not helpful in any way.
The heroine was a slut and fell in love with a married man. Fantastic. The End.
I didn’t sleep very well both Saturday and Sunday nights. I had to squeeze my eyes against Sasha wrapping her arms around Brennan and the look he gave her before he had seen me.
By Monday, I felt so much better knowing that the last ferry to the mainland had left at midnight. I breathed easier because he wasn’t on my island anymore. Yes, it was my island. I found it first, I thought, as I dug in the dirt of my small garden. I was sticky with sweat and even though I had gardener gloves on, I still felt the dirt under my fingertips. I didn’t care. Maybe I would take a dip in my small spa and let the stress of the weekend soothe my worries away. I was on the right track in life. I was checking off my bucket list items left and right. Sometimes I wondered what I would do when I finished the list, so every once in a while I added one more item. Just one. No biggie.
Loves came up and started licking my face telling me he was hungry. Again?
“Dude, I just fed you an hour ago. How can you be hungry again?” I laughed as we rolled on the lawn. Loves jumped off me and started barking at the tall, dark, and fucking sexy man heading up the lawn. Brennan. All the air in my lungs left me. My island, I thought.
Brennan stooped down to scratch Loves. I could hear him murmuring something to the dog but I didn’t make it out totally. “Good” and maybe “Boy” but “mother” definitely stood out.
I took off my gloves and started walking down to meet him.
“Hey!” I exclaimed a little bit too enthusiastically. Maybe a little forcefully fake. My throat was clogged and I am sure I squawked rather than any other sound. Fucking throat.
“Hello Julia,” he said as he looked up to me from petting Loves. “Nice dog. He’s yours?”
“Yep, that’s Loves,” I replied, smiling at how stupid happy Loves got at new people’s attention.
“Loves, huh?” He asked as if it was a piece of information that he was locking away in the mental safe.
I shrugged. “He loves me when the snow keeps us inside for days. Or when the storms are so bad and I can’t sleep.”
Brennan abruptly stopped scratching Loves and he stood. Loves came to sit at my side.
“You look so different,” he said. What did he mean by that? What was he thinking? Why do I want to know every detail and observance he has about how I look different?
“Wow, Brennan, is it me or has your conversational skills become limited? You said that the other day.” I slapped the gloves together to get rid of the excess dirt. “What do you mean by different?”
“You look really happy. Free. Your face glows like... like you are in love,” he said cautiously.
I laughed.
“Well, hell, Brennan! I am in love! Look at my house and my island. Look at my fucking fantastic dog!”
He smiled at me. His dimples were out to kill and I shifted a little to rid myself of the extremely foreign horny feeling.
“What are you doing here? Who was the little snitch on the island?” I laughed.
He laughed. “They told me I wasn’t allowed to say.”
“Oh God. Kelly and Joanie sent you?” I groaned. I would never forgive them. Our friendship was finished. I frowned at that thought. No, telling Brennan where I lived didn’t mean I was going to break up with my two besties. I wouldn’t be able to make it on the island year round without them.
He watched me as I went through the mental processing and finally his words took me out of my thoughts.
“What happened to you?” He was quiet when he inquired about this but it sounded like a painful plea.
“That’s a question for the masses, my old friend,” I said on a chuckle.
“I am not an old friend,” he snapped back. “I was the love of your life. You were mine. You just took off and I called everyone. Your family didn’t know where you were. You just dropped off the face of the Earth. The only way I knew you weren’t dead was because in my total desperate measures, I contacted Johnny. He said you had hired a lawyer but that it was confidential as to who it was. Even to the band. Damn, you just quit it all.”
“I told you I was going to. Our last night together? I told you I was done,” I replied a little softer. I did not want to argue with Brennan. I wasn’t that person anymore. I didn’t feel hatred. I felt empathy and compassion for the man in front of me.
“I am so sorry I hurt you, Brennan. I did hurt a lot of people when I left but it wasn’t because I didn’t care. I had to leave for myself. I needed to get to know myself.”
“So where did you go?” he asked. He really needed these answers. And for fuck’s sake, it was a long ass story. I looked at him thoughtfully.
“How much time do you have?” I asked with a smart grin. “It’s kind of a long story.”
He threw his head back and fingered his hair through, letting out a large exhale. I took in his low riding jeans and a grey tee shirt with Desired Pitch written across it. I smiled at the thought of Lizzie and Nick. I wondered how their babies were. Was that band even still together? I had stopped listening to normal radio the day I left Manhattan. I made playlists and listened to only certain XM stations where I knew there was no way any of my old music would haunt me.
“I have a bit of time,” he answered, nodding his head.
“Yeah,” I drew out. “Shouldn’t you be with... Sasha?” I asked like I wasn’t saying her name in my head the whole fucking weekend.
“No.” He firmly stated.
“Well, then, follow me and Loves. I need to get cleaned up a bit. I have some freshly squeezed lemonade or coffee,” I said. When and how did I become such a hostess? All those small dinner parties with the girls trained me well, I thought. It obviously threw Brennan off because he looked at me like he didn’t even know who I was.
I laughed.
“Or a fucking beer. It’s got to be five o’clock somewhere on God’s green Earth.” I said, motioning him into the side door to the open windowed kitchen. I loved my kitchen. It was so New England but modern. I didn’t have to deal with hundred year old pipes but it still had the old island feeling. I noticed the tension in Brennan’s body eased as he put his hands in his pockets to follow me.
Lucky pockets.
TWENTY-EIGHT
I opened the refrigerator and pointed to a bottle of Shipyard. Brennan shook his head as his eyes darted around my place.
“Coffee, then?” I asked. I was trying so damn hard to keep my cool. This was just like having Pierre over. Just a guy having a drink in my kitchen. Just that.
“Yeah, that would be perfect,” he said as he scrubbed the five o’clock shadow on his chin.
I started the French Press and his eyebrows lifted. I giggled.
“When you live on an island, you have the time to do the extra steps. You take those few extra moments to enjoy what you would normally miss. No more tunnel vision.” I pulled out two ceramic mugs that I made at a local pottery store that gave out lessons. Make pottery on bucket list–check.
“How long have you lived on Martha’s Vineyard?” he asked. It was a thoughtful question, very casual but I knew... I knew he was drawing a timeline in his head. The clock would start when I began to talk.
“It will be two years this October,” I said. “Well, I moved in here then. I moved to the island in September just as the summer peeps left. I actually stayed with Kelly and Joanie,” I confessed. I smiled to the memories of us down in the sitting area, playing Scrabble. I was so lost. I had no idea which way was up. I had my list and hope.
“So you just picked Vineyard Haven, what? Like on a map?” he asked with a queer expression on his face.
I shook my head as I started to pour the press over one mug and then the other.
“No, as a child, I had visited here once with a friend. We were ten. I remember thinking that this place was so magical, all surrounded by water. Comforting. It was so beautiful in my memories so when I left my mother’s house, I came directly here.”
“Wait. Back up! You were at your mother’s?” he asked. Anger edged the sides of the words but he wasn’t fuming.
“I take it you called there?” I asked as I slid the mug and condiments to him. I rested my forearms on the breakfast nook.
“Um... like twice a day for three months. She was your mother. How could she not know where her daughter was?”
I nodded. “You and about twenty five other people a day,” I said, taking a cautious sip of my coffee. I winced at how hot it was. I went to the freezer and pulled out ice cubes, threw them in my huge insolated mug and poured the coffee over the ice.
He watched me in fascination. “You really look amazing.” I could tell he hadn’t wanted to let those words slip out because he went a little flush and looked down at his full cup of steaming coffee like it held all the answers to life.
“Did you miss me?” he asked the cup quietly.
I didn’t say anything. I thought about it. I mean, I really thought about it. It was a very important question and yes, it had been asked many times by both the girls and me.
“Yes.” I stated the word with firm deliverance, annunciating the “S” in case there was any confusion.
He looked up at me. “Then why have you stayed away for so long?” His voice was choked and I felt my own throat close up at the sight of him grasping for any semblance of calm.
We were not calm. This had disaster written all over it.
“Story goes like this,” I said very matter of fact. It was the only way to blow through this very uncomfortable situation. “I went to my mom’s after I told Johnny to go to hell. I stayed there for a month. I hired a lawyer to handle the band exiting shit. I made a bucket list. I wrote all of the things I always wanted to do as a child and never did.”
I pointed at a coffee stained, worn down piece of paper in the middle of the refrigerator. It was the only thing on it. He examined the paper as I continued.
“So I made the list. First off was to buy a Jeep. Always wanted one of those,” I laughed at myself. “The second was take residence on an island. I really thought it would be tropical when I first wrote it down. But here I am!” I looked back to see the list and the first two things were most definitely checked off. More power to me.
“I moved down here. Found this palace. I learned to cook, garden, make coffee mugs,” I said pointing to his coffee mug.
“The rest, well, I guess I don’t really have any answers. I am officially an island girl year round. I am writing a lot. A memoir about a little girl I once knew and that takes me out of my head. Loves and I play a lot on the beach. Oh and Pierre is teaching me French for a trip to Paris after the leaves fall. I can’t stand it when I miss the foliage,” I said. That was it. That
was my story. I suddenly felt bad for inviting him in. I could have easily just said all that shit back out on the lawn.
He stood up and walked over to the list. At first, I didn’t show it to anyone. I was self-conscious about it. It was the only thing that was truly all me. After a few months, I showed it to the girls and now I am pretty sure it is a running joke with the locals. Every time I go into the hardware store or buy something different for the yard, bucket list is said somewhere in the store. The old hags. I let them have their fun.
“Abstinence,” he stated. His eyes slowly moved to me. The question was in his eyes. I shrugged.
“Masturbation is quite effective, my friend,” I said as I tipped my mug in his direction as to say cheers.
“I. Am. Not. Your. Friend.” Brennan’s low growl made my heart stop and then it picked up beating faster and faster.
“What about Pierre?” he asked, turning back to the sheet. I rolled my eyes behind him.
“What about Sasha?”
“Hey, I didn’t write a bucket list that said I wouldn’t have sex for an indefinite amount of time. So, Julia? What about Pierre?” he probed as he moved back to his seat and took a large sip off of his coffee.
“Pierre is Pierre,” I said as I lifted one shoulder. “He teaches me French. Oh, and he saved me from the sharks one day. I was trying to teach myself to sail with one of those dummies books.”
Brennan started laughing hard as I watched in amusement. I loved to make people happy in my new life. I started to laugh along with him.
“I know, right?” I laughed. “I was such a dumbass that day.” I looked up for his response, quickly turning to my left to find him starting to put out his hand to touch my waist. I could see that he wasn’t sure that he wanted to touch me. He watched his hand as it was outstretched to me. Would he get stung? Shocked? Would we both explode?
I stepped away. “So, Brennan Curtis. Did I answer all of your questions? See? Jules Delaney, rock goddess, is now a lowly island girl who likes to cook and garden.”
I crossed my arms over my tank top, suddenly feeling very naked and violated. Why did he just try to do that? Why would he even think that I would consider it was okay? Why didn’t I think it was okay? It actually sounded like a fabulous idea now that I was steps away from him, staring into his soul filled eyes of love, lust, and total pain.