by Tara Sivec
I feel awful. I tore into Fisher at the beach two weeks ago and he had no idea what I was talking about. I blamed him for something he didn’t do and let my anger get the best of me.
“He’s at my house, working on some stuff in the basement,” Trip says casually as he resumes rocking and staring out at the water.
“A little presumptuous of you, don’t you think? What makes you think I care where he is right now?”
Trip just laughs and ignores my question. Of course he knows I care, the man is like a damn mind reader and knows I’m going to feel guilty about what I just learned and want to apologize.
I push myself up casually from the rocking chair, making a show of stretching and acting like I don’t fully intend to hightail it straight to Trip’s house when I step off this porch.
“I think I’ll just check on some paperwork and call it a night. You gonna stay here for a little while?” I ask him casually.
He nods and gives me a wink. “Yep. Think I’ll sit right here for, oh, maybe an hour or two and enjoy your view. It’s the best one on the island. You have fun with your paperwork now, and don’t worry about me.”
Patting him on the shoulder, I turn and head to the sliding door and pull it open. Trip calls to me as I step inside.
“Spare key’s under the welcome mat on the front porch.”
I growl at him and slam the sliding door closed as I stomp through the house.
Irritating, meddling old man.
Pushing open the door to Trip’s house, I hear the soft cadence of music coming from the basement. I recognize the song immediately and my heart beats faster. “Storm” by Lifehouse was a song I played on repeat the first few weeks after Fisher left. I was like a teenage girl with a broken heart, listening to depressing songs while I cried out my pain against my pillow.
“If I could just see you, everything would be alright. If I’d see you, this darkness would turn to light.”
The song speaks of the person you love leaving you to drown, and it was a perfect representation of the loss I felt after Fisher left me. Listening to it back then ripped my already fragile heart into even smaller pieces. Hearing it now takes me back to that time and makes me want to claw at my chest.
I move in a daze, the sound drawing me in like it has a magnetic pull, needing to torture myself further with the softly broken words that haunted my dreams for months. When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I pause and stare at the sight in front of me. Fisher, his back to me, is in a pair of tan cargo shorts and a dark blue t-shirt, bent over something he’s working on. The muscles in his arms ripple as he slides a piece of sand paper over the wood, pressing down hard to get it as smooth as possible.
His hands and forearms are covered in dust from the sanding and I think about all the times I’d sit out on our front porch and watch him do the exact same thing, completely in awe of him and the beauty he created with those hands. The same hands that worked tirelessly to make something so beautiful out of an old piece of wood touched me with tenderness and love.
I keep walking towards him, drawn to his body and his presence just like I always have been. My foot bumps against a piece of wood leaning against the wall, knocking it over, and the noise has Fisher’s head jerking up in my direction.
He stares at me in surprise, his eyes traveling over my features, and I wonder what he sees on my face right now. The song is still playing, the words swirling around me, taking me back to a time when I felt lost and alone and needed him. Just…needed him.
“I will get lost into your eyes. I know everything will be alright.”
His brown eyes stare into mine and I think about all the times he looked at me, really looked at me, and saw me with clear eyes, a clear mind and a clear heart, just like he’s doing now. I want to tell him that I have no idea what I’m doing here, that I have no idea what I’m doing with my life and I haven’t since he left. Now that he’s back, I feel even more lost and confused, like I’m twisting and upside down in a wave in the middle of a hurricane. I have no idea which way is up and I can’t seem to find my way to the surface.
Tossing the sandpaper down without a word, Fisher stalks across the room to me, his hands cupping my cheeks and his lips crashing down against mine before I can even blink. His tongue slides past my lips and his body pushes against mine until my back hits the stairwell wall behind me. As soon as his tongue swirls around mine, every thought flies from my mind. I clutch at the front of his shirt and pull him closer, needing more. His thighs and his hips and his stomach press against mine and the weight of his body pushing against me makes it hard to breathe, but I don’t even care. I don’t need air when his breath is in my mouth, giving me life.
I didn’t realize how much I missed the taste and the feel of him until right at this moment. Fantasies and memories are nothing compared to the real thing. I deepen the kiss, pushing harder against his tongue, tasting peppermint and coffee and something that is so uniquely Fisher that my heart beats faster, thrilled at having it back after missing it for so long. Our mouths push and pull against each other and Fisher takes all I have to give with his lips and tongue. Our heads change positions, back and forth as his hands tighten their grip on my face, pulling my mouth harder against his so he can punish me with his lips and tongue. I remember every moment I’ve kissed this man; the countless times fly through my mind and I lose myself in him and forget the obstacles still standing between us. I moan into his mouth and, just as quickly as the kiss began, it ends. He drops his hands from my face and I immediately feel cold air on my cheeks instead of the warmth of his palms as he takes a few steps back from me, breathing deeply and running one hand nervously through his short, dark hair.
“Jesus, Lucy,” Fisher mutters under his breath.
A flicker of the memory of Stanford muttering the same thing to me a few weeks ago floats through my mind, but I push it away. Stanford’s curse was filled with shock and a touch of irritation, while Fisher’s is filled with nothing but want and need.
Stanford. Shit! What the hell am I doing?
“Lucy, I—”
Pushing myself away from the wall, I edge around him and over to what he was working on, cutting off whatever he was going to say. I don’t want his damn apology. If he apologizes to me right now, I will lose my shit all over this basement. I was an idiot for losing my mind as soon as I came down here, but that stupid song and this stupid man are screwing with my head. With his broad shoulders and his strong arms wrapped around me, I felt safe and secure. The light, woodsy smell of his cologne is still burned into my nostrils and the taste of his mouth is still imprinted against my tongue. My cheeks and chin burn from the scratch of his beard and I have to take a few deep breaths to stop myself from turning around to kiss him again. I have a boyfriend. I shouldn’t be making out with my ex-husband, who was probably two seconds away from telling me he never meant to kiss me so forcefully, so fucking completely that I forgot about the man in my life I’m supposed to building a future with and all of the ways Fisher hurt me.
“This is beautiful, Fisher,” I tell him, changing the subject and running my hands over the sign he was working on when I came down here.
He loves talking about his work and it’s the best way to distract him from the giant fucking elephant in the room.
“Thanks,” he replies, coming up to stand next to me, but keeping a few feet between us.
I stare at the words Ruby’s Fudge Shop intricately carved in the middle with a beautiful, swirling design of candies and other confections surrounding it.
“I took your advice and decided to apologize with some gifts. This is the last one, and I’m hoping to finish it tonight so I can drop it off tomorrow.”
Stan’s Diner, The Lobster Bucket and Ruby’s Fudge Shop – the three businesses he damaged last year before he left the island. It touches my heart that he listened to me and did something so thoughtful for these people.
“That’s amazing, Fisher. I’m sure they appreciate it,” I tel
l him, trying not to let this sweet side of Fisher turn my insides to mush.
I change the subject again, bringing it back to my real reason for coming here. It wasn’t to kiss him and it definitely wasn’t to see the old Fisher, the one who always melted my heart.
“Look, I’m sorry to drop in like this, but I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved on the beach. Trip told me it wasn’t you who deposited that money, so… I’m sorry. I was a total bitch,” I explain, sliding my hands into the back pocket of my shorts and kicking my toe against some of the wood debris littering the floor at my feet.
“You don’t have to apologize, Lucy, it’s fine. I already had a talk with my mom and she’s going to stop the deposits. She just… Well, you know how she is. She doesn’t know any better way to say she’s sorry or to help someone out,” he says with a shrug.
“Thanks. And will you tell her thank you for me? I know her heart was in the right place, but… you know, it’s not really appropriate considering…” I trail off, not bothering to add, “Considering we’re divorced and I’m dating someone else even though we just made out a few minutes ago and my body is still burning, wanting more.”
“I’m glad you stopped by, actually,” he tells me, moving to the corner of the room. He wipes his hands on the rag tucked in the back of his shorts before bending down and lifting the lid off of a box, rummaging around inside until he finds what he wants. Standing back up, he turns and walks over to me, holding a few folded pieces of paper out to me. “I wanted to give you these.”
I take them from his hand, trying not to make a big deal when our fingers brush against each other and I have to force myself not to sigh.
“What is this?” I ask as I start to unfold the papers.
He quickly reaches out and wraps his hand around mine to stop me.
“Don’t open it now. Just… you know, later. Whenever. It’s just something I found that I wanted you to have.”
His free hand comes up to my face and he brushes his fingertips against my cheek while my heart stutters and I hold my breath. “Got a little dust on you before. Sorry about that.”
The smirk on his face tells me he isn’t sorry in the least about putting his dusty hands on my face and dragging my mouth to his. I quickly take a step back so I can breathe again and his hand drops from my cheek.
I clutch the papers he gave me in my hands and continue backing away from him towards the stairs. I need some distance right now. If I spend another second down here alone with him, I have no idea what the hell I’ll do, but it will most likely be something even more stupid than kissing him.
“I should be going,” I tell him lamely. “Again, I’m sorry about that day on the beach.”
I turn away from his stare and rush up the steps. His voice calls to me as I get to the top.
“See you soon, Lucy in the sky with diamonds.”
Chapter 21
From Fisher’s High School Journal
October 28, 2001
“Each electron has a negative electrical charge and each proton has a positive electrical charge. The charges are equal in magnitude, but opposite in sign. So basically, they are electrically attracted to each other.”
The only reason I haven’t fallen asleep yet is because I could listen to Lucy’s voice all day. I don’t know what the hell is happening to me, but I haven’t even looked at another girl in almost a month. Obviously, I’ve lost my mind. She’s the complete opposite of almost every girl on this island. She’s shy and keeps to herself, never going out of her way to be something she’s not to try and fit in with the rest of the sheep in this school. She only speaks when she’s called on in class and is constantly walking around with her nose buried in a book. I don’t think half the girls here have read anything beyond fashion magazines, but Lucy reads Anna Karenina and Gone With the Wind for pleasure. The only time she shows a hint of personality or a little bit of snarky attitude is when she’s with me, and it makes me feel pretty damn good that I can bring those emotions out of her.
On top of that, she’s really smart. She’s the only sophomore taking AP Chemistry and getting straight A’s, to boot. When our teacher told me I’d need to get my grade up or risk not graduating in the spring, I immediately signed up for tutoring. There’s no way I’m not graduating and postponing Marine basic training. As luck would have it, Lucy was on the tutor list and I made sure all of my available dates coincided with hers so that the teacher would have no choice but to pair us together.
Lucy pauses in her explanation, looking up from her Chemistry book to find me staring at her mouth instead of the page we’re on. I can’t help it. Her mouth drives me insane. She never wears that sticky, shiny lip-gloss shit all the other chicks paint on. Her lips are always a perfect shade of pink and she keeps them shiny enough just by running her tongue across them, like she’s doing right now.
“Hey. Focus,” she scolds, tapping her pencil against the book and forcing me to tear my gaze away from her mouth to stare in her eyes.
“I am completely focused. What you’re saying is, opposites attract,” I tell her with a wink and a smile.
I can’t help it. I know it ticks her off when I try to charm her, and that’s what I lov…like about her. She’s the only girl in this place who doesn’t climb all over me when I try to flirt.
She groans and rolls her eyes at me and my smile gets wider.
“Yes, but only in the scientific world. Why are you even in AP Chemistry if you still don’t know the basic lessons?”
Moving my elbows to the table and my eyes away from hers, I run my hands down my face and sigh. “Would you believe me if I told you I only signed up because of the hot girls in the class?”
This is the one thing that gets to me about Lucy. Okay, the one thing that gets to me more than thinking about kissing her or running my hands through her long hair to see how soft it is or squeezing her perfectly round ass. She sees right through me. Those blue eyes of hers cut into me like lasers when I try to bullshit her.
“Nice try,” she tells me, tossing her pencil down and turning in her chair to face me. She folds her legs up crisscross on the chair and cocks her head to the side. “There is only one relatively good-looking girl in our class, and I happen to know she’s got a very serious boyfriend that you’re friends with. How about the truth?”
I hate that she always discounts herself as good-looking just because she doesn’t look like every other chick in this school. She’s beautiful in an all-American, girl next door way and she doesn’t even realize it.
“Two,” I mutter distractedly as I glance down at her legs and think about running my hands up her thighs.
She shakes her head at me in confusion.
“There are two, more than relatively good-looking girls in our class. Actually, I wouldn’t classify you as just good-looking. I’m sure there’s a much better word for how you look, but I don’t think they’ve invented it yet,” I say with a smirk.
“Can you be serious for one minute?” she asks in annoyance.
“I am being serious. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since you walked into the cafeteria that first day,” I reply softly, being honest for the first time in a long time.
I know she doesn’t trust me and it bugs the shit out of me. Every day at school, she sees another girl hanging all over me, just proving that she’s right to be wary of me. If she only knew that I just want to shove them off of me and hang out with her instead, that I have shoved them away every time the opportunity to spend time with her pops up. I’ve turned down dates, I’ve turned down blow jobs, I’ve even turned down parties where I’m guaranteed to get laid, just so I can spend an hour with her in the library.
“Why don’t you come to any of the parties people throw on the weekends?” I blurt out, trying to steer the conversation in her direction so I don’t say something stupid that will make me look like a pussy.
“I asked you first,” she argues. “Why did you sign up for AP Chemistry?”
“My dad made me take it,” I admit with a sigh. “Said it would look good on my transcripts for college. You know, the college he picked out for me, taking the classes he approved of. I hate math and that’s all Chemistry is. I’d rather be outside, helping my grandfather fix things around the island than be stuck inside a classroom or a boardroom, but that seems to be all my dad thinks I’m good for.”
She doesn’t even look shocked when I blurt this out. Her eyes get soft with understanding. Thank God she’s not looking at me with pity, I couldn’t handle that shit.
“Well, think of it this way. Even with construction and electrical work, it doesn’t hurt to know a little chemistry. So, you can secretly piss off your father by learning something that will help you do what you want,” she tells me with a small smile.
I can’t stop the loud, full belly laugh that flies from my mouth. I’ve never heard her curse and, even though it was only piss, it did something to my insides to hear her let loose like that, just to try and get me to smile.
“You want to get out of here for a little while?” I ask mid-laugh. “I’m getting claustrophobic being in this library so much.”
She raises one eyebrow at me in suspicion and I laugh again. “Don’t worry, Lucy in the sky with diamonds, I promise to keep my hands to myself. I thought we could take a tour of the island. I can show you some of my favorite places that no one knows about.”