by Tracy Ewens
“Would you come with me?”
Matt could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Hollis truly stumped for a response. Looking at her now, he would need the other hand because she was searching for something to say… then her eyes slowly drifted away without an answer.
As her hair blew across her face and she returned her gaze to the ocean, there it was again, the need to touch her. Hollis had always been a beautiful girl, at least to his eyes, and she’d grown into a gorgeous woman, but there was something about the whole package that completely turned him upside down. She was, quite simply, brilliant. The things she took the time to know, the way she saw the world, all of it collected inside a compact, efficient body and hidden behind a face men wrote songs about. She was a deadly combination and no matter how mixed up the signals behind her silver eyes became, Matt never tired of watching to see what was coming next.
“If I were ever going to live in a lighthouse, which is a crazy idea because I love the city and my life, but if there were ever a vacancy and a lighthouse needed me I would… consider it with you, Locke-ness.”
“What would our life in a lighthouse look like?” he managed to ask, his heart drumming in his chest.
She turned.
“We’d probably have to wear those scratchy sweaters and eat lots of stew.”
She was dismissing him. He wasn’t good at noticing it when they were younger, but he saw it now. He’d asked her a question, and she either didn’t want to think about it or couldn’t. Matt had never been sure where that line was for Hollis, but she was excellent at keeping to herself.
“Christ, let’s hope the lighthouse never needs me, right?” Hollis said.
Her laugh was laced with the pain, and Matt guessed it had something to do with the gap that often rested between what was and what could have been. He could have left it there, easily kept walking or read another placard, but the more time he spent with her, easy didn’t seem to be enough.
“When did you move on?” Matt asked.
“Sorry?” She turned to face him, the wind doing its best to whip her hair back to the ocean. The piece of cracker came unstuck, and he watched it twirl in the wind and drift from sight.
“After us, when was your next relationship?”
“Honestly? We’re at a lighthouse. We’re stuffed with delicious crab. You want to talk about this right here, in front of the school tour group?”
“They’re in there looking at the aquariums.”
Hollis looked out toward the water again as if it held some answers for her and then quickly turned back. “Are you asking me when I had sex again after you or when I went on a date?”
“Either.”
She pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up around her neck. “I don’t even remember. Two, three years? I didn’t date anyone until after I graduated. I was a little… well, it was the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Two years after we were finished?”
“Yeah, I guess or two years after we graduated. I can’t remember.”
“You can’t remember, right. You said that.”
Her brow furrowed in annoyance. “Why are you asking?”
“I have no idea. I was watching you, and being here with you, it seems like we have a lot to talk about. Then, when we start, it feels strange, like the statute of limitations on it has run out or something.”
“It?”
“Closure? Yeah, I have no idea what I’m talking about. Let’s get back to reading about the last guy who ran this place before Parks and Rec took over.”
She held his gaze for a moment. It was as if she was struggling with some kind of internal debate. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I wasn’t involved with anyone after you, Matt. The part of you that wants to make that romantic needs to remember what I’d been through physically and that I had a one-track mind back then: finish school and be successful at all costs. I worked for a smaller firm during the last few months of my master’s. I was in the break room and there was a paper on the table. It must have been Monday because it was a Sunday paper. Sections folded, things torn out. I honestly can’t make this up.” She took another deep breath. “One of the sections was folded over to the wedding announcements and I saw your picture. I was sitting there eating my fuc—nky”—she looked around, and Matt felt the urge to laugh but wanted to hear the rest of the story more—“yogurt and there you were with Little Miss Headband. You were getting married, at some country club of all places.”
Hollis looked back out toward the lighthouse. He took one step into her because he suddenly felt the space between them grow instead of shrink. “That night, I finally went out with one of the other interns who had been asking me for a couple of weeks. He took me to dinner and I funky towned his brains out.”
Matt had no right to be jealous, but that didn’t stop it from crawling up his neck. He smiled because this whole cleaning up her language thing was entertaining. And it helped distract him from the idea of her going to town with anyone but him. “Did you two date?”
She shook her head. “No. It didn’t help, so I dumped him. I think he’s married to one of the other interns from our class, so it worked out for him. Do you want to see if we can climb inside this thing?” She pointed to the lighthouse.
“Hollis.” She looked at him for less than a beat and continued down the stairs to the lighthouse. Conversation over. Even though he thought his throat was going to close shut while she was telling him the story, he wouldn’t have unasked the question. They were talking about real things again and while every instinct in him said to back up, maybe that wasn’t the answer anymore.
Chapter Twelve
The sun was setting by the time they arrived back at Mitchell’s Cove. With the parking lot over three-quarters full, Hollis smiled. Uncle Mitch continued to fight her every step of the way claiming he did not need anything more than he already had, but Hollis had dealt with tougher resistance before. The sounds of music and merriment, along with the smell of summer bonfires she loved so much, filled the air before she even left the truck. Whether he needed it or not, Uncle Mitch would do well to understand that people needed him. They needed places like his cabins, his cove, to escape, laugh, and share a moment destined—by virtue of the fact that it’s a holiday or time away—not to last. His place was special and she believed it deserved success.
She used to get a rush from finding money, “getting the cookie” as her boss enjoyed chanting during his meetings, for projects and people that were special. In reflection, Hollis was beginning to notice that like so many things, that had changed too. Her work had become about money instead of discovery. She used to work hard finding the hidden gem, and somewhere along the way it turned into taking what other companies had and outsmarting the competition. She was good at it, no question, but until recently, she’d never bothered to ask if what she did was worthwhile, if she was contributing to something important.
The band playing inside the restaurant turned gentler with a lilting guitar and a soft snare drum. Hollis closed her eyes.
“I’ll bring this stuff in to your uncle,” Matt said as he came around the truck with boxes in both hands.
Her eyes opened and she nodded. “I’m going to take a shower.”
When he smiled, she tried not to visualize what the heat that crept into his eyes promised.
“What?” he asked when she rolled her eyes.
“Nothing. Thank you for the drive, the afternoon, and the lighthouse.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll… see you around.” Matt looked like he was in some awkward limbo.
“Yeah.” She should have said more, but they’d had quite a day already. She turned toward her cabin.
“I was thinking I might get one of Mitch’s burgers. It’s a great night and I haven’t been out to the bait shack on the pier in forever.”
Hollis kept her back to him. There were so many reasons she should keep walking, an entire action plan full of better ideas, but he was giving her
something and while whatever it was felt scary, she wasn’t willing to miss out on a little more time with him—not tonight.
“You hungry?” he asked, still standing behind her, arms full in the parking lot.
“I could eat.” Hollis still didn’t turn to face him.
“Good. Go get some decent clothes on, will ya?”
She looked over her shoulder at the sound of his laughter, shook her head, and ran to her cabin. It was one night, one burger, and then she’d get back to fixing her problems and returning to work. One night wasn’t going to change anything.
Matt delivered the oysters and cheese to Mitch, who was a bit concerned they were already thirty minutes into dinner, but forgave them when Matt explained they’d gone to the lighthouse.
“Incredible, right? I’ve often thought that would be a great job,” he said before running off to give the chef the blue cheese.
Despite their obvious differences, he and Mitch often thought alike. The man was an interesting mix of real world and old world. He had an iPhone and an iPad tablet, but still used shaving soap with a brush. He ordered all of his clothes online and there were some interesting pieces, but he drove around in an old truck. Matt had liked Mitch all along, even when they were kids. Now he loved him like family, which was interesting because up until he agreed to help out when Poppy went on leave, he had not put much time into extended family. But now he was closer to Mitch and saw Greg all the time at The Bean. He had Toro, and even Poppy and Mr. Trumble were a part of his routine. He supposed those relationships were the result of effort and maybe, as his mother had pointed out, giving something of himself even if no one asked. He should probably call his father tomorrow and check on him. He’d think about it, but right now all he wanted was more time with her.
Picking up two to-go boxes with the burgers he’d ordered, Matt grabbed an extra tablecloth and a bottle of wine from the section of the refrigerator marked, “For Hollis ONLY.” He hesitated, remembering Mitch said Hollis was “laying off the grape,” then put the bottle back. Instead, he slid a water bottle under his arm and took a candle from the basket by the silverware. As he made his way up the pier, his heart drummed in his chest, but as hard as he tried, he could not convince himself this was a bad idea.
The bait shack was situated at the end of the pier. It had a single string of lights on it now, but it was often pitch black. In the summers of their childhood, Hollis and Matt made a deal on the nights that their parents called them home after sunset. Matt’s parents’ house was on a hill near Mitchell’s Cove that faced the water, and Hollis’s family was in Bunny Blue, which was two in from the pier. They agreed to keep a lookout after dinner, and if one of them could sneak away, she or he would bring a flashlight and point it faceup in the dark little shack. Matt was usually the one who could get away first because his parents had a habit of watching television after dinner. If either Hollis or Matt saw the light, they knew the other was waiting.
He hadn’t brought a flashlight this time because she would be there to meet him. Matt set everything down on the rusty and crooked card table in the shack and turned as Hollis, now in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, walked up their pier and toward him. Her hair was wet and gathered at the base of her neck. His mind tried to order things, run through all the reasons he should leave the light that was Hollis Jeffries off for good, but nothing worked. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. If she was going to crush him again, that was fine, so long as he had the chance to spend one more evening with her on their pier.
“You managed, though,” Matt said, cautiously leaning back in an old chair that was poised to collapse at any minute and crossing his arms over his chest. They’d finished their burgers and were quickly closing in on the fries.
“What does that mean?” Hollis asked, taking a sip of the water bottle that sat on the table between them.
“Exactly what I said. Without me, you survived. You were happy.”
“I guess. So did you.”
“I think it may have taken me longer.” He smiled.
“I’m sorry? You were married two years after I graduated. Married. Are we seriously going to argue over who was more heartbroken?”
“I never said my heart broke.”
“Oh, well then I win.” She took another sip and seemed to be searching for her feelings again. Matt wondered where feelings went on Hollis’s action plan.
“I win because my heart broke and fell apart. What’s that nursery rhyme?” Hollis asked.
“Which one?”
“The egg, he sits on the wall?”
“Humpty Dumpty?”
“Yes, like that.” She nodded. “I was definitely the egg man—or woman, I guess. I probably still haven’t found all the pieces.” Her eyes met his and in that moment, the crap they’d been through was right there in the tiny shack with them. He wanted to tell her he was sorry things became so twisted, that he would spend the rest of his life helping her find the pieces. He wanted to say a lot of things, but Matt learned a long time ago that a little thinking before speaking went a long way. So even though the look in her eyes said they could hop in his car and cruise up the coast, stop for taffy, and live forever making the other one laugh in scratchy sweaters eating stew, Matt knew better. The woman sitting across from him was not an adventure to be taken lightly. He’d tried once and failed.
“Your heart broke,” she said, cheeks flushed, eyes barely looking as she wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm.
“You think?”
“I know.”
They sat listening to the muffled sounds and music from the restaurant. It was as if they were somewhere else, some other state or country even. All alone, floating out on a strip of wood.
“Remember second year of Junior Sailing?” Hollis asked.
“Ninety-five?”
Hollis nodded. “We had to partner up and Taylor Britton wanted me to be on his boat. Because of my mad skills, obviously.”
Matt shook his head and snatched the water bottle from her.
“You put up a little fight, but the counselor said whoever ran to the boat yard and back won me as a partner.”
Matt nodded. He knew where this was going.
“You rolled your eyes and told Taylor he could have me.” She pulled her legs into a crisscross on her own wobbly chair. “You sailed so hard that summer. Protests, shouting, you were intense. Won the whole damn series, remember?”
He did.
“If your heart was hurt over losing me to Taylor, I’m guessing it broke, at least a little when we…”
She appeared at a loss for words, so he helped her. “When you left?”
Hollis nodded, and Matt needed a release from the cruel pain that hit him in the chest. He couldn’t tell her that when he’d lost her, his heart didn’t break, it died. He wasn’t ready to face that or tell her that since she’d been back, instead of feeling the distance of so many years, he felt like they were more real, more honest than they had ever been before. He needed a way out or he’d drown in her, so he went with light and easy.
“First of all, if memory serves, I kicked Britton’s ass because he sucked even with you on his boat.”
Hollis laughed. “Sure looked like maximum effort out there.”
“Yeah, well look what it got me. You danced with him at the End of the Series Dance.”
“One dance. He was my partner. You weren’t even willing to run to the boat yard for me, and I danced twice with you.”
“He ran track. He would have won.”
“You could have tried.”
Their eyes met across the warmth of the candlelight and even though Matt had spent so many years feeling like the one kept from the story, for the first time, he wondered if he had it all wrong. God, he’d hated Junior Sailing.
After the candle had burned out, they sat on the pier. The dinner crowd must have been finishing up because people started spilling out into the gravel parking lot. Hollis was amazed how time still managed to fly wh
en she was with him. She’d been on dates, good dates, where the conversation was stimulating and the guy was fun, but nothing had ever come close to being with Matt. They moved from one thing to another seamlessly until by the time one of them had to go home or go to class, they were talking about something else entirely. Hollis normally said more words, but Matt’s insights tended to be more interesting.
Watching the fish glide through the glow of June phosphorescence, Hollis wondered how she had ever let him go. It seemed impossible that she cut off a part of her world that at the time felt as vital as her next breath. But she had—she’d left and never looked back.
“Humpty Dumpty… surprisingly childlike for someone like you,” Matt said into the darkness.
“Someone like me?” She let the question hang between them, knowing his response could hurt her, but wanting it anyway.
“Yeah, calculated, precise.”
“What kind of way is that to describe a person?”
“It’s accurate when it comes to you, Holls. You are a driven, push-to-the-front-of-the-line kind of a person.”
“What? How do you know that? The last time you saw me, I was twenty-one.”
“Oh come on. Look at you. You are success. Your body is perfect, you dress perfectly.”
She tilted her head in confusion because it had been so long since she’d felt even close to perfect.
“Well, with the exception of what will probably be a brief period of… downtime. You’re meticulous. Your action plans have action plans. That type of person is a force. You’re a force.”
Something shifted in his voice. It was like they’d been out playing all day and Matt quickly realized it was time to go home. Maybe he thought they only had one day. Maybe that was all he wanted. Hollis couldn’t tell, but he was no longer playful and flirty.
“Force? You make me sound like a computer or the Terminator.”
He raised his eyebrows as if to say, “If the shoe fits.”