by Diane Munier
"The Titanic," Seth said and they laughed.
"Exactly," Jordan said. "But still…." They stood there watching the waves build and hurry to crash and ebb near their feet. "It's just a lot of things. Life is a lot of things. But it's still great…you know?"
Seth looked out at the water. "Why didn't God stop it?"
"Yeah. That's the million dollar question…always is. You remember your Easter story?"
"Like him dying on the cross and…resurrection?"
"Yeah. That was God…stopping it."
"But…."
"You haven't heard anything sad before…what Carson did to us? You think we're the only ones who've ever suffered? Really?"
"Well…no."
"But it was alright before it happened to you and me. We weren't having any problems with God then."
"I don't know."
"Seth. It sucked. That kind of…unfairness…injustice…violence…it sucks. It will never feel good. It will never be good. But it ain't everything." Jordan swept his hand at the water. "Take a look. Life is still happening. It will still blow your mind. You and your mom…you guys blow my mind."
Seth laughed at that. "Why would we blow your mind?"
"I uh…I feel like I got a family. I know it's quick and I don't want to weird you out or anything, but…I'm looking forward to the future."
They stood there for a few seconds more. Jordan prayed to God he hadn't said too much.
"She's only been divorced, like, a month."
Jordan snorted. Then he laughed. "I told you I know it's quick. But they were separated a long time, right?"
"Yeah," Seth said.
"I know you're not wanting your mom to be hurt. I plan to be good to her."
"Yeah. You said you're not him."
It was awkward now, but they were saying what needed to be said.
"How's it been with…the after with the guys' families…the ones who died?"
Seth shrugged again. "One of them…Jason…I don't see. They moved away. But Aiden…he was a friend. His mom lets us go over…anytime. And he's got a little brother…and he's like…we play games and stuff."
"That's cool," Jordan said.
And there they were, side by side, until Alisha called them to breakfast.
Chapter 18
Their first breakfast in Grandfather's house felt festive, even when it was awkward, even when plates were full and Paul and Alisha and Cori were at the table and Jordan and Seth were on the couch.
The only way to deal with his new family in front of his old one was to focus on Seth, at least until Jordan could grow comfortable with that self-satisfied smirk Alisha wore.
It still wasn't okay, in theory if nothing else, that Alisha had manipulated his life.
He wasn't so impossible she couldn't have spoken to him about Cori…invading his escape. Okay, he would have never, ever agreed to such a plan as meeting the daughter of Chief Tulley and mother of Seth, on a lonely beach in the heart of winter, just the two of them. Never in a million years would that have been a-go.
So…yeah…he got it. But he didn't have to love it.
But look at her now, and he almost couldn't stop looking at her…Cori Weston. Yet every time his sister caught him looking at her…that smirk. Maddening.
Alisha was explaining some of the history of the house, that it had been built by their grandfather and their aunt Karen and uncle Ken had refurbished it, practically rebuilt some of it to turn it into a seasonal vacation property. In peak season it went for over three grand a night.
Jordan realized again how little he and Cori knew about one another's lives, how they had not even felt the need or hadn't been light-hearted enough to be able to be anywhere close to normal, it had been this desperate red-hot coupling, then this crazy wanting to be together, at least for him, then the brief time at her home and the rapid opening of all the black boxes from the unresolved things in his past, and the realization of love. And now this. They really were working their ways backwards.
What a slick, difficult path, a twisted trajectory, a carnival ride that went insanely fast then came to an abrupt halt only to take off in a frenzy again.
"Are you hearing me bro, are you listening?" Paul was saying.
"I'm sorry," Jordan said, realizing he'd been holding his fork, eggs at the ready while a million thoughts had besieged him.
"It's rented out for the whole season." Paul meant the house. Real estate is what he did, they did, the uncle, the aunt, Paul, Alisha.
"That's great," Jordan replied, but he only pretended to care. He was noticing Seth's leg, how he kept jiggling it so quickly the couch was vibrating.
"Hey buddy, slow down," Jordan said to Seth.
Seth slowed it then.
"Aren't you going to eat your food?" Jordan asked him.
"It's my medicine. It kills my appetite," he said.
"What medicine? From the virus?" Jordan asked.
"No. The stuff for my nerves," he answered.
Jordan looked at him, then at Cori. She was too far to know what he said, and she smiled weakly as Alisha went on about her favorite vacation destinations.
"So you take it every day…the stuff for the nerves?"
"Cymbalta…yeah," Seth said. "I had some trouble…sleeping…going out…then back at school."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Um…," he took a nibble of a strawberry. "Just…I'd have to leave…."
"Leave school?"
"Leave the room…I'd go to the nurse. But no one thought much…I'm like this special case…just this kid…I don't know."
"A special case from the shootings?"
"Yeah. I'm not like them…I grew up there, but…." He set his full plate on the coffee table. "What are we going to do today?" And the leg was back.
"You're the boy who lived."
"The chosen one?" Seth shot back.
Jordan grinned. He liked Seth's quick mind. That was in tact at least.
He flashed a look at Cori. She was pretending to listen to Alisha, but he felt her attention on him and Seth, her eyes…too much hope.
"What…do you want to do? You're at the ocean, man. Don't tell me you're used to it. Danville is land-locked as it gets." There was nothing wrong with Jordan's appetite. He wiped his plate with a heel of good bakery bread and popped it in his mouth.
The leg…that was whacked to move like that. He wanted to say to chill, but if the dude needed to release that kind of energy Jordan didn't want to add to the burden.
"Did you sleep last night?" Jordan asked.
The boy shrugged. "I don't know. Some at least."
"Why don't you sleep?"
"I don't know. Let's do something."
"We are doing something," Jordan said. "We're eating."
"No…," Seth trailed off. He was up quick. He barely limped, but you could see it some when he first got going.
He went upstairs and Jordan took his plate to the sink.
He rinsed off his dish and Cori was soon beside him. She stuck her plate under the water, her arm against his, her eyes searching his.
"Seth said he takes meds for his nerves," he said. He was bugged that Seth had gone upstairs, just left like that. Was it because he didn't get his way? Jordan couldn't keep taking his emotional temperature. Seemed his mom already did that.
Cori reached to shut off the water. He could tell she didn't wish to make eye contact, letting her hair fall forward. Just a little thing like that.
"Isn't he young to take that nerve shit?"
She shrugged, wiping her hands on a towel. "He's alive, Jordan. He's pretty healthy for a boy who had a bullet bounce around in his chest and another rip through his leg. So he gets to be young now. Whatever it takes…you know?"
Jordan looked behind him at Paul and Alisha. They were both pretending to read different sections of the newspaper.
"I was just trying to figure things out," he said. He didn't know why it upset him…the medicine…well he did. He wasn't on nerve
pills himself and if anyone had reason to be…and the kid was so young and too thin…too shaky. But then, the kid couldn't slam back a drink…or a bottle. Jordan realized his hypocrisy. He'd done the old self-medicating thing enough, especially last year, especially then when it was fresh and he was going nowhere.
"He sees a psychologist?"
"He has. And a psychiatrist," she said. "For the prescription."
"And what do they say?"
"Post-traumatic stress, generalized anxiety, depression."
"He's in grief," Jordan said and he felt defensive, like he wanted to take on the whole mental health community. It didn't make sense…his reaction.
"I know that Jordan…grandfather, friends, self, youth, innocence, peace, well-being…yes…grief." She'd said this with feeling, but she wasn't spitting it at him.
"He's not eating."
"The medicine…."
"How much medication is he on?"
"He's been on so many things. Currently? Four things. One of them is for mood…the Cymbalta. And an occasional sleeping aid. You don't know how difficult it's been."
"A big dose?"
She shrugged.
They had to stop speaking when Seth came back down the stairs. And his unexplainable frustration lay in the sink like garbage and he wished he could shove it in the disposal and grind it to nothing.
Paul asked Seth if he wanted to go to the store with him to pick up some fresh fish for dinner. Seth said a polite no thank you and plopped onto the couch. He had his iPad and was pretty engrossed.
"Do you want to go to the cabin with me, Seth?" Cori said.
"No. I've already been." He did not look up.
"I'll go with you," Jordan said, his eyes on Seth, thinking if he offered to go, Seth would too.
But Seth didn't offer to go anywhere. He kept playing his game.
So Jordan and Cori put on jackets and took off for the cabin. The talk about Seth had put them in a weird place. He felt like he'd been apart from her for a week and he hadn't been apart from her much at all. He took her hand. He needed to touch her.
"Hey," he said yanking a bit on her fingers. "I need to know. I'm just getting it figured out. Peace?"
"I just…well don't judge me. I feel like you are, like you disapprove…of my parenting."
A few more steps. "I didn't realize is all. I was thrown. I'm on your side. Seth's too."
"What is this thing we're doing…so awkward?" she said waving her free hand. "I hate this."
He looked over his shoulder at the house. He half expected Seth to have changed his mind and come running after them. Seeing he wasn't, Jordan scooped Cori in his arms and swung her around. He got a squeal out of her at least. That made him feel better.
He moved in for a kiss and she made the effort to reciprocate. He set her on her feet then. "Hey…."
"Jordan…I've let you in. But I told you…it's not easy. It's just…worth the risk. You…are worth the risk."
He nodded. Most of the awkward was gone then as they continued to walk to the cabin. When they got there, she unlocked the door and he followed her in. It held a bit of staleness. Food left on the counter. "I thought I'd be back," she said. They worked in silence to clean the kitchen. He took out the trash. When he came back in she was stacking her chalked sketches.
The shapes were elementary, but he liked the colors. She had wanted to capture those. Sunrise, here, the grays and pinks. She had sold her share of a florist's shop after the accident. But color, she loved to study that.
She led him into the small bedroom there and she went to the bed and lay down.
She lifted her hand and he got close, took her hand in his and she pulled him down.
"I'd hate to think I had no more self-control," he said, and he laughed some, and she didn't, she remained sober.
"I've needed to be with you like this," she said, already lifting her hips to kick off the linen pants and her underwear.
He did the same, bared his lower half and she led, bringing him to her, pulling him by the hips as she guided him in.
He stared into her eyes, trying to see what it was she felt with such intensity she could not smile or even wait, what was this?
He was going to go slow, let her set the pace, but it caught up to him then, her open warmth, the way it felt to be joined by flesh, and he gasped and laughed, embarrassed to hook into it then, how it was, how serious, how real and un-named and how needy he was, not cool, not in control, just reduced, ready to beg, beg her not to stop gripping him, between her legs and between her hands, to never stop wanting him like this, to never stop knowing with such clarity, such certainty that they had to be together.
Recognition. She recognized him. She was it for him, but it was the same for her.
Yes she was struggling under his judgment and to let him in, and her fear of marriage, but she wasn't drawing back, she wasn't hiding.
"Mom?" It was Seth.
Jordan leaped off her and went right to the door, which he shut. Seth was in the kitchen and the bedroom was in a short hall off that. She got up and put her clothes on, but not nearly as frantically as Jordan was putting on his.
"It's alright," she said to him softly, kissing him, one hand on the doorknob.
She went out, closing Jordan in the room.
"What is it?" Jordan heard her say.
"I didn't see you," Seth said.
"I was in the back…with Jordan. You said you weren't coming."
"I changed my mind," he said.
"We'll be along. You can take those sacks for me."
Jordan quickly righted his clothes and ran his hands through his hair. He ripped the sheets off the bed and went in the kitchen holding those. He was in time to see Seth angrily grab the sacks his mother had pointed out before he stormed out the door.
"He's embarrassed," Cori said.
"He knows we were…he's not stupid," Jordan said. He sighed and leaned on the counter. "We can't do this, sneak around like two high school kids."
"It was a bad idea. I just…I needed you. I need you."
He set the sheets on the table and went to her and put his arms around her. "I love you," he said. "I'm thirty-two years old. There was a day I was actively looking for you. Now? You came to me. And I don't want to let you go."
"What are you saying?"
"I know it freaks you out. I know you were burned. But…you've got a kid and he doesn't need some lover-boy…."
"So you mean…?"
“Marriage. We don't have to rush in, we don't have to be officially engaged today or tomorrow, but moving that way should be our intention."
"Is it your intention, Jordan?"
"Yes. Is it yours, Miss Weston?"
"I…want you."
"That's a yes?"
"I…am scared."
"You're just excited. It feels almost the same. Damn close."
Jordan and Cori came back to the house with their arms loaded. They put the foodstuffs in the kitchen, but Cori's clothes and personal things they took to her bedroom.
Seth was holed up in his room. Jordan knocked softly as the door was partially open. Seth said to come in. He was perched on his bed drawing.
"Hey," Jordan said. "Want to go the water?"
"No," Seth said, not taking his eyes off the sketch pad.
"I was thinking it would be good for you and me to have a talk."
"So talk."
"I mean about me and your mom."
"No thanks."
"Look, Seth…."
"I don't want to hear about it. Jeez." He stretched out on his side, back to Jordan.
It reminded him of the day they'd met. Like two days ago.
"Yeah, well…whatever. C'mon, it's decent enough outside you don't want to be cooped up in here. We're going out on the pier."
"Go."
"We'll work up an appetite and eat at one of the restaurants on the beach."
Jordan doubted food would be much of a draw for Seth, but he stood there until Set
h slammed his sketch pad down, the martyr. He'd been drawing some demonic looking warlord. Jordan wasn't in the mood to feign fascination. This kid spent too much time in the dark side of his head.
Paul was on a fresh scallop run, and Alisha wanted to work a bit. She asked that they call when they reached a restaurant for lunch and she and Paul would drive and meet them.
So Cori and Jordan and Seth set out. Seth was out front, quiet, hands in pockets, head down. Jordan and Cori walked behind. Cori was finding shells, not collecting, just appreciating. Seth started to look at her finds, keeping his hands buried in his hoodie. Soon he walked with them, beside Cori. Jordan didn't have much to say. His newfound understanding with Cori had lifted the awkwardness that pervaded the morning. Now that he'd declared his intentions, and she'd reciprocated, his self-respect was in-tact.
He meant them good.
Finally they stood on the end of the pier and watched the waves churn into the dun-colored sky-line. They went into the town then, as it began the far side of the pier, where the beach soon ended. There were some shops, open despite the off-season. They wandered in and out. Seth seemed to appreciate shopping, more than Jordan would have thought, but then he was just getting to know him.
He was interested in the junk in a gift shop. When he wanted something he didn't ask permission, but had the means to buy it for himself. He bought a T-shirt and a CD. Then he bought candy.
He had no trouble at all eating the candy. They sat in an abandoned outdoor theater. Beyond the stage they were close to the water. Jordan had bought himself and Cori a coffee to balance the cold wind blowing from the direction of the water.
"You missing school?" Jordan asked Seth.
"No," he said vehemently, before he tipped a stick of some gross sugary candy into his mouth.
"Not a fan, right?" Jordan said.
"I hate school," Seth said. "I said that already."
"You didn't say you hated it," Jordan said.
"I wish I never had to go back there," he added.
"Seth," Cori said tiredly.
"It's the truth. I hate Danville."
"You don't mean that," Cori said.
"I do too. I hate it without Grandpa." Seth stood up and threw the frozen drink he'd bought himself. It splashed red on the bottom of the cement stage they sat before.