The Seacrest

by Aaron Lazar

  Cora.

  I surveyed the contiguous plots beneath the tree. Beside the graves of my parents and little sister, there was a space for me, a plot for my brother, and two adjacent spots for our wives. Jaxson’s wife had left him years ago, so I had no idea who would end up buried between him and me. My brother and Berra had produced no kids, thank God.

  Cora and I had no little ones, either, although I’d always wanted a family. She’d said we “weren’t ready” every year, for the past eight years. It always came down to finances, the fact that we had no home of our own, and her insistence that she wasn’t ready to be a mother.

  Now she’d never get the chance. And I’d probably never be a father.

  Another stab of pain hit me hard in the chest. I’d really wanted a family.

  I clutched at the tie I borrowed from Rudy, loosening the choking fabric. The sun blazed overhead, and I’d broken into an uncomfortable sweat since we left the shelter of the cool limousine. I wore the same dark suit I’d bought for the triple funeral when my parents and sister died in the fire. It hung loose on me now, especially since I’d worked all day, every day outdoors for years.

  Today Rudy and Libby flanked me, also dressed in black. Rudy had kindly arranged for the funeral details for both Cora and my brother. Somehow, the flowers and service were ordered and paid for. Jax’s funeral was yesterday, a complete blur. I was certain it had displaced a number of July Fourth barbecues. I remembered very little, except some of the hymns we used to sing in church when we were a whole family. A complete family. A living family.

  How can I be the only one left?

  Reverend Mitchell droned on and on, but I didn’t process his words. He hadn’t known Cora. His words were hollow, and I almost resented the way he talked about her as if they’d been best friends.

  I watched his mouth move, his hands holding a worn bible. His wizened mouth puckered and turned to a frown when a crow tried to compete with him and yammered in the white pine overhead, seeming to mimic the pastor’s words.

  I almost laughed out loud.

  I hadn’t stepped foot in the quaint little Presbyterian Church where he preached since the deaths of my parents and sister.

  I was still mad at God for that one.

  But I was also equally mad at Jax. I was certain it was his cigarette that started the fire.

  “Finn?” Libby took my arm and guided me toward the car when the coffin was lowered. Someone’s hand—maybe my own—had dropped a handful of soil on it.

  I held in my grief like a man.

  My father would’ve been proud. My mother would have wept. And my little sister would have comforted me, holding my hand and telling me she loved me with those big green eyes.

  But I felt it welling up in my throat, and if someone approached and was too nice, I was afraid I’d lose it.

  “Finn? Come on. Let’s get you home.”

  Libby had been kind for the past three days, sparing me her usual quips and complaints. Her father had treated me with respect and kindness, also out of character. Yet both of them had tactfully avoided the question I still agonized over.

  Why had Cora been in Jax’s car?

  I didn’t think they’d ever met. She’d asked about him, of course. Wondered why he inherited the farm and I got nothing.

  She’d treated me like I lost my mind when I told her I’d rejected the inheritance and told him he could have it. All of it. The three hundred and fifty acres of blueberry fields and woods. The house and barns. The stand for the berry picking operation.

  I’d given it all up to flee the horror of that night.

  With a sigh, I slumped in the back seat of the limo. Libby touched my hand, and I felt my resolve crack.

  Just five more minutes. Hold on for five more minutes.

  Chapter 4

  July 2nd, 1997

  We played with the beach ball for about an hour, laughing and churning up sand three hundred yards up the beach, away from the sunbathers and family picnics. After the first few nervous minutes, the whole thing felt very natural, as if we were just kids and there were no boy-girl elements to be embarrassed about.

  But there certainly were boy-girl elements.

  I watched her tawny arms as they flailed and whapped the ball and marveled at her long, delicate legs when she ran back and forth along the quiet stretch of sand we’d chosen. Her eyes had a way of widening in mock horror when I tossed it too high and she missed it, quickly followed by a wide smile that dizzied me.

  She had a nice figure, with slim legs, a narrow waist, and pretty shoulders. Her one-piece black suit covered areas I tried not to stare at, but couldn’t help wanting to. I wondered how it would feel to touch her. Probably softer than silk. Her hair cascaded along her back, bouncing dark against her summer brown skin.

  We collapsed on the sand with the ball between us, breathing hard and laughing.

  “You’re pretty good at this,” she said.

  I leaned back on my arms and chuckled. “So are you. For a girl.”

  She sat up and hit my arm. “What? For a girl?”

  Afraid she’d storm off, I took her hand and pulled her close to me. “I’m just kidding! Really, you’re good, even for a guy.”

  She smiled that lazy, sweet grin again and I felt my heart melt.

  “Okay. That’s better.”

  “I haven’t seen you at my school. Are you from around here?” I asked.

  “I just came back for the summer.”

  “Back from where?” I said. “Reform school?”

  She hit me again and I knew I deserved it.

  “Just for that, I’m not telling you. You’re horrible!” Her smile belied her words.

  I grinned back at her. “So, what’s your name?”

  “Guess.”

  “What?”

  “Guess.”

  “Okay.” I sat up, furrowed my brow, and placed fingertips against my temples, staring at her. “I’m getting something. It’s coming.”

  She laughed and poked my chest. “Oh, really? What do you see?”

  I gave it a shot. “Jennifer?”

  She snorted. “No!”

  I tried again. “Sarah?”

  She giggled. “Heck, no.”

  I tried to think of the most popular names of our generation, hoping it was one of them. “Allison?”

  “Uhnt-uh.” She shook her head.

  “Give me a hint.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, come on!” I frowned. “How can I guess?”

  “You have to.”

  “Okay. Hannah? Jessica? Carly? Jenna? Lisa?”

  “No, no, no, no, and no.”

  “Hey. How ‘bout if I tell you my name?”

  “What is it?”

  I hesitated. “It’s a weird one.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Okay. It’s Finn.”

  She tilted her head. “That’s not weird. I like it. Finn.” She seemed to taste the letters on her tongue, enjoying the feel of it. “It’s different. But nice.”

  “Okay. Your turn.” I sat forward expectantly.

  “Nope. I’m not telling. You have to keep guessing.”

  I ran through all the names I could imagine, and didn’t hit on it. Frustrated now, I flopped back on the sand. “Okay. Then I’m gonna make up a name for you.”

  She made a face. “Really?” Quickly, she leaned over me, her face blocking the sun.

  In a sudden rush of feeling, I wanted to pull her to me, to smother her in kisses, to taste the salt on her skin.

  “Okay, what’s it gonna be? What’s my new name?”

  “Let me think.”

  Her hair danced over my bare chest. I caught it and played with it. “You are sweet. I could call you Honey.”

  “Boring,” she said.

  “How about Candy?”

  “Sexist,” she pouted.

  “Bambi?”

  “Even worse! I’m not a playboy bunny!”

  “Okay, Well, you look delicio
us. How about Cupcake?”

  She hissed. “That sounds like a chubby girl. Or a pony.”

  “Okay, okay. Let me think. Maybe I need some inspiration. How about a kiss?”

  At first I thought she’d reel back and hit me. But to my surprise, she lowered her lips to mine, stopping just an inch apart. “Okay. Just a little one, though.”

  I reached my arms up to her neck and pulled her toward me. At the last minute, just as I felt the soft sweetness of her mouth brushing mine, she pulled back.

  “Nope. Too soon.” She got up and laughed, twirling around with the ball. “Come on. What’s my nickname?”

  I sat up, trying to control the heat surging beneath my bathing suit. “Okay. I’ve got it.”

  “What? What is it?”

  “Sassy.”

  She pranced toward me. “I love that! Okay. From now on, I’m Sassy to you.”

  Her father appeared out of nowhere, his face a study in disapproval. I think he hated me from the moment I’d asked her to toss the ball around. I also figured he’d probably seen us lying near each other, and got nervous.

  He glared at me. “Time for lunch. Let’s go.”

  There was no arguing with his stern tone. She tossed him the ball and wiggled her fingers at me. “See ya ‘round, Finn.”

  I grinned like an idiot. God, she was cute. “Okay, Sassy. See ya.”

  I watched her link arms with her father and sashay away from me. The sun winked on the brilliant sand, almost blinding me. As if hypnotized, I stared with slack jaw until I could barely make out her figure among the crowded, colorful throng of beach-lovers.

  Sassy.

  Oh, Sassy. You’re the one for me.

  Chapter 5

  July 9, 2013

  Four days after burying my wife, I lay in the dark bedroom of our cottage, clutching one of her sweaters. It smelled like her. Beach plum blossoms. Wild roses. Tangerines.

  I know. That sounds so lame. I really am a man’s man, most of the time. I work outside with sledgehammers and hole diggers and even have a cool leather tool belt. But this whole double death thing had just about killed me.

  I hadn’t shaved or showered in days.

  Guilt over neglecting my job hovered around the edges of my subconscious, but I didn’t acknowledge it. It could wait, like all the phone calls, invitations to visit and the three casserole dishes sitting untouched in the fridge.

  I hadn’t eaten much since the funerals. A few tablespoons of peanut butter. A quart of milk with chocolate syrup squirted in it. A box of grahams.

  I don’t like noodle casserole, anyway.

  My eyes were swollen, and my stupid body kept heaving with grief. Embarrassing, really. I was glad no one was there to see.

  Cora wasn’t there.

  No. She’d never come back.

  I sighed and rolled over on the bed. My German Shepherd, Ace, hopped up and realigned himself against the back of my knees.

  He’s all I have left now. It’s just Ace and me.

  He nuzzled me with his nose, then pressed his big body against me and started to snore.

  I stroked his ears and along the side of his neck. “Good boy.”

  My throat tightened again.

  Had Cora really loved me in the end?

  I didn’t know. Much as I cared for her, much as I tried to make her happy, she seemed to shy away from me over the past few months. She’d smile that faraway smile and answer my questions as if they didn’t matter anymore.

  Why?

  What had I done?

  We hadn’t made love in weeks. She was always too tired after starting graduate classes. She studied every evening, and when I suggested a movie, she’d loose a quick laugh as if I were a child, practically shooing me away. I’d fall asleep before her, because I got up at five to feed the horses and start my day.

  Once I’d caught her whispering in the phone when I got up to use the bathroom. The next day she said it was a classmate; they were working on an assignment.

  Out of the blue, Cora wanted a Masters degree in music; and then a teaching certificate. All this came about quite suddenly, immediately following our final school loan payment. Now she’d started all over again, building up the debt and storming full force ahead without even discussing it with me before she registered and bought a dozen books.

  I hadn’t resented her going back to school, not at first. Until it seemed I was no longer a part of her life. Then I resented the hell out of it.

  Had I failed her somehow? Aside from not providing a luxurious living, I had never cheated, had never lied.

  Well, there was that one lie. The thing I never told her. That thing I’d never tell her. That thing I’d buried deep down inside and didn’t let come up except sometimes in the dark of night. No, I’d never mentioned that one.

  A knock came at the door.

  Ace sat up and gave a soft woof.

  “Who is it?” I croaked.

  “Me. Open up, Finn.”

  Libby sounded pissed off. Great. Just what I needed.

  “Hold on.” I dragged myself to my feet and went to the door, cracking it open, squinting in the late morning sun.

  “Finn, for crying out loud. Put some pants on.” She pushed past me and flopped sideways on my overstuffed chair.

  I looked down, realizing my shorts had opened, revealing far more than I wanted. I pulled myself together and shuffled over to the pile of clothes on the floor. I slipped on my jeans, zipped them up, and faced her. “Better?”

  “Yes.” She fished around in her pocket and drew out her iPhone. She typed a short text and then shut it down. “Listen. I think you should get off your duff and get back to work.”

  Silence.

  “I mean it. Look at this place.” She got up and kicked at the pile of clothes on the floor. “I know you’re hurting. I know you have good reason, Finn. But this isn’t healthy. You need to keep busy. To get outdoors.”

  “It isn’t healthy?” I felt anger building. “Are you fucking kidding? Not healthy? My wife and brother just died. It’s only been a week.”

  For a moment, a soft look crossed her face. Her mouth trembled. “I know.” She turned to me, her pretty eyes bright with purpose. “I understand how hard it is.”

  I dropped onto the side of the bed and looked down at my hands. All emotion suddenly drained from me. “I know you do.”

  She returned to the chair and perched on the edge of the seat. “I never thought it would happen to both of us.”

  “I know. Me, neither.”

  “It’ll be three years, next week, since he went MIA.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s not coming back, Finn.”

  “I know.”

  “You and Cora were so good to me when I heard about it. I’ll always be grateful.”

  “He was a brave man, Lib. A good man. Served his country, and all that.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “That’s the problem.”

  “What do you mean?” I sat forward with my hands on my chin. “I thought the problem was he disappeared in that wretched war.”

  “That was just part of the problem.”

  “What else was there?”

  “He wasn’t a good man, Finn. He was a…a monster.”

  I stared at her. “What?”

  Tears ran down her face, flooding her cheeks. She bent her head and covered her face with her hands, shoulders shaking. “Ian hurt me. It started a few months after we were married.”

  My heart splintered in two. “He hurt you?”

  “All the time.”

  I leaned forward and touched her hand. “Oh, Libby. Why didn’t you tell me? Or your father?”

  She stared at me through reddened eyes. “You?” A harsh laugh burst from her lips. “Of all the people I longed to tell, you would be the last person on my list.”

  My brain swam in confusion. “I don’t get it. Why?”

  She shot me a dirty look. “I don’t believe you.” With that, she lea
pt out of the chair and stalked to the door. “Get yourself cleaned up and get back to work. The lawn needs mowing.”

  I stared after her, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

  Ace nosed my hand, standing beside me. He uttered a low whine, as if he were trying to understand what just happened.

  “Me, too, buddy. Me, too.”

  Chapter 6

  July 9th, 1997

  12:30 P.M.

  I loved my brother, but there was always something wrong with him. He was a little bit “off,” if you know what I mean. He drove me crazy.

  We worked the blueberry farm every summer, starting when we were just kids. This summer—I was sixteen—I’d been allowed to drive the trolley back and forth through the acres to drop off and pick up customers who filled their baskets with plump blueberries in the hot sun. My father would do one run, then I’d do the next. While my father took his turn, I’d weigh people’s berries, helping my mother at the stand.

  Jax had been running the picking machines that morning, and I had just stopped to collect a group of customers who were ready to head back to weigh in and pay for their berries, when I spied her.

  Sassy stood in white denim shorts and a red halter top with her father, a lady I assumed was her mother, and a gaggle of older ladies and kids with blue teeth. My heart nearly stopped when I pulled over to pick them up.

  All lanky and lean, she looked beautiful, and she found my eyes before I could prepare myself, shooting me a smile that almost flattened me from its sheer magnitude. Flustered and deliriously happy, I hopped down and helped folks up the aluminum steps. Her father did a double take when he noticed me, snorted, and heavily climbed aboard. I guess he hadn’t expected to see me there. She extended one delicate hand to me, and I helped her up.

  Electricity shot between us, and I knew she felt it, because I swear I heard her gasp.

  Before she let go, she squeezed my fingers. “Finn. I didn’t know you worked here.”

  I smiled like a goof. “It’s my family’s farm.”

  “Nice,” she said, nodding to the surrounding fields of berries. “I love it.”