Anchored_Book One of The Crashing Tides Duet

by Ruby Rowe

  Spotting Madeline Hughes in the middle of the line, I go to her and touch her shoulder.

  “Maddie, come stand with me at the front. I need to talk to your dad about the markers you’re using.”

  “Am I in trouble?” In an instant, her glowing green eyes coat with tears.

  “No, sweetie. You already told me you won’t draw on your arms again. I was only going to tell your dad the best way to remove the marker so it won’t irritate your skin.” Smiling, she blinks away her tears.

  This little girl is precious, and I sense she could end up one of my favorites. What parent sends their kindergartner to school with Sharpies? I thought everyone knew by now that those are permanent.

  An aide arrives at my classroom to take the after-school kids to the gym. The kindergarten teacher across the hall escorts my bus-riders, and in return, I take her car-riders.

  “All kids riding buses, please get in the back of Ms. Shepard’s line across the hall!” I shout, pointing to the long row of kids standing outside her door across from mine.

  I don’t shout to be mean, only so they can hear me. It’s pandemonium in the hallways, and this will not improve for several weeks. Once I see that my students are where they’re supposed to be, I take Maddie’s hand and lead the car-riders out the exit.

  I take extra care in ensuring my students get inside the right vehicles and only with people their guardians have approved for pick up.

  Madeline and a boy named Aiden are the only students left waiting for their rides when Maddie yells, “That’s Uncle Jake’s car!”

  She points toward a silver sports car pulling up in front of us. The driver rolls down the window, so I duck my head to look inside.

  “Good afternoon, I’m Ms. Lockwood,” I say. Damn … this guy’s hot. He flashes me a devilish smile, and wow. His green eyes are even more astounding than his niece’s, and it’s obvious his smile acts as their wingman.

  Between his handsome face and full head of thick, dark hair, I’m sure he has no trouble scoring dates.

  “Hi,” he replies, his grin only widening, and it’s probably because I’ve been checking him out.

  “Uncle Jake, I thought Daddy was picking me up.” Her fingers grip the windowsill next to me as she looks over it.

  “He has to work late, so you’re stuck with me, kid.” He glances back at me. “Her dad was supposed to let you know I was coming.”

  “Oh, shoot. He did, and I completely forgot. The first week of school is crazy.” A rude mom parked behind him taps her horn. “Um, I need to speak to you about something,” I add. “Would you mind parking in the lot and walking up? It should only take a minute.”

  “Sure, no problem.” While staring at me, a crease forms on his forehead, and his smile fades. I wonder if he feels inconvenienced but doesn’t want to say.

  Finally breaking our gaze, he drives off, and once the rude people behind him pull away, too, Aiden’s mother arrives.

  “I’m the last kid,” Maddie exclaims, her eyes round with excitement. Her mood has drastically lifted since she spotted her uncle, and she’s even jumping around like a rabbit.

  I recently turned twenty-five, so I know I’m not old, but I sure don’t have the energy I did as a child. I wouldn’t mind having some of that back.

  I eye her uncle as he strides from the parking lot to the sidewalk. Damn, he has a body to match his handsome face. He’s wearing tattered blue jeans, and his bulging biceps are screaming to be set free from his snug, worn Giant’s t-shirt. There’s an intricate black and grey tattoo on one of his forearms.

  As he approaches, he rubs the scruff on his face, and the short length of stubble is just the right amount of sexy.

  Maddie runs to him, and after swooping her up into his arms, he narrows his gaze on me.

  “I think I know you,” he says.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jake

  The words leave my mouth before I have time to consider the consequences.

  “You think you know me?” Maddie’s teacher asks while pointing to her chest.

  “You look so much like a girl I once knew, and your last names are the same. Rebecca … was she your sister?”

  Ms. Lockwood’s skin pales. “Yes, Rebecca was my sister. How did you know her?”

  “I’m Jake Callister. My cousin is Thatcher Davenport, and I used to spend summers with him at his home in the Hamptons. I got to know your sister at some of the beach parties.”

  Giving a nod, she examines my face. Maddie pats my cheeks before attempting to turn my head toward her.

  “Can we go get ice cream?”

  “Sure, in a minute.”

  “Yes, I remember you now,” Sailor says. “Thatcher hosted a lot of parties.” Her eyes stray, and I feel like shit for bringing up her dead sister. Who does that to someone they barely know? Looking back, she scrutinizes me again before giggling.

  “You in no way remind me of Thatcher Davenport.”

  “Yeah, well, my mom’s sister married up. Thatcher’s father met my aunt at her, uh, place of employment. She was a dancer.” I look at Maddie in my arms. “And not the kind you’d see in a broadway show at the Lincoln Center, if you know what I mean.”

  Ms. Lockwood giggles again, and damn, it’s a sexy sound. She’s smokin’ hot, and now I’m the one doing the examining. She’s more petite than I remember Rebecca being, and her hair is much darker. Hell, it’s black.

  “I wasn’t trying to insult you when I said that about Thatcher. It’s just that I can picture him in his polo shirts and plaid golf shorts, and you look nothing like that.”

  “Yeah, we’re different. I’m the cool one, and since he’s my cousin, I can give him loads of shit about it.”

  “Uncle Jake, you said a bad word. That means I get two spoons of sugar on my Lucky Charms. Am I staying the night?” she asks excitedly, the thought just hitting her pretty little head.

  “Yep, but someone keeps eating all my Lucky Charms, so you might have to eat Wheaties.”

  She twists her mouth up in disgust. “No, yuck.”

  “Um, I need to get back inside, but I wanted to talk to you about Maddie’s arms. I don’t know how you missed her lovely artwork.”

  I lift my niece’s arm to have a look. “Oh, yeah, those are her tattoos. She wants to be like her Uncle Jake.”

  “Well, I have no issues with her creative self-expression, but in her new school supplies sent in, there were Sharpies instead of washable Crayola markers, and I didn’t notice until she’d decorated one entire arm and part of the other.”

  “Oooh, sorry about that. I’ll have her dad pick up the right ones this weekend.”

  “I wanted to tell you the easiest methods to remove it. Coconut oil works great, but if you don’t have any, hand sanitizer works, too.

  “I thought I should tell you so you don’t scrub her arms too much with soap and water since it might only irritate her skin. It’s so hard to get the dark colors off.”

  “OK, cool. Thanks for the tip.”

  “Otherwise, Maddie is having a wonderful first week. She’s sweet and helpful. Oh, and her homework is in her folder.”

  “Homework? What kind of homework are we talking here? Because I’ll be the one helping her with it, and I stopped taking my Ritalin about eight years ago.”

  She smiles. “I think you can handle it. There’s a paper in her folder that has Madeline on it multiple times, and she needs to trace the letters. The book she chose to practice her reading is inside her backpack, too.”

  “OK, I think I can manage that.”

  “Great. Bye, Madeline,” Ms. Lockwood says. “You have a fun evening with your uncle.” She glances at me, and her alluring smile doesn’t go unnoticed. “It was nice meeting you, Jake.”

  “Same. Uh, can I get your first name?”

  “It’s Sailor.”

  “Sailor, right. I remember the name now.” Her smile disappears, and I wonder what I said to upset her.

  “Have a nice night.”
She walks away, and as I admire her toned ass in her pale pink dress pants, Maddie tugs on my face again.

  “I want a snack.”

  “Right. Ice cream.” Lowering her to the ground, I take her hand, and as we walk to the car, I can’t stop thinking about Sailor and the past.

  It’s weird because I seldom dwell on Rebecca, or what happened the night she died, but I did think of her this morning when I was talking to Elliott about not being able to save every life. If anyone can’t let go of the past, it’s him, but maybe I haven’t let go of it either.

  Sailor

  Sitting on the couch in my apartment, I kick off my pumps, put my feet on the coffee table, and stare up at the ceiling.

  Rebecca…

  Jake Callister told my grief exactly where to find me, and angry that I turned my back on it, it protested. Inside my mind, it’s marching in circles, the anguish from ten years ago spinning me out of control.

  Unable to fight my thoughts and feelings, I’m forced to acknowledge the pain–the memories. Tears form and escape from the outer corners of my eyes.

  “Damn, did the little monsters wear you out today?” my roommate and best friend, Carrie, asks. I didn’t hear her come out of her bedroom.

  Walking around the couch, she clutches her hips, and once she eyes my tears, her buoyant balloon bursts, and her grin falls away before me.

  “What happened? Did one of those shits bite you? Pee on you? Smear a booger on your arm?”

  I can’t help but smile faintly at my ray of sunshine who refuses to cower behind dark clouds.

  “Someone reminded me of my past. Someone other than my family.”

  Coming right at me, she drops to her knees and grabs my hands. I can’t lower my head to look at her, but I know she’s staring at me with her rich blue eyes. Carrie’s the amazing friend I can always count on.

  “Was it him?”

  “God, no. I have no idea where he is, and I make sure to avoid any opportunity of finding out. That’s one great thing about my parents not wanting to mention the past. I never have to worry about them bringing him up.”

  “What happened today?”

  Lifting my head, I look at her. “One of my students, Maddie, has an uncle who knew Rebecca. I vaguely remember him. Anyway, I met him this afternoon, and it brought back the memories.”

  Gravity allows more tears to fall, so I jerk my hands free to wipe them away. “It’s a big deal since I think I’ll be seeing him often. I don’t know Maddie’s family dynamics yet, but I have a feeling her mom’s not in the picture.

  “I swear, Carrie, this guy was a magnet. I felt this pull to get to know him, yet I feared him at the same time. It was the strangest experience.” I shrug. “Maybe I only feared Jake because I knew he’d be a constant reminder of my sister.”

  Sighing, Carrie takes the spot next to me on the couch. She sits sideways and tucks a leg under her butt. Since she’s in shorts, I notice how tanned she got over the summer, mainly while vacationing with her Hawaiian boyfriend.

  She met Joshua online, and I thought she was freaking crazy to go to Honolulu to see him, so I insisted on crossing the ocean with her in case he was a serial killer. The guy was going to have to put an ax through me first to get to her.

  Fortunately, he seemed like a great catch, so I kept my distance, giving them space, while enjoying some much-needed sunshine.

  I’m happy for her, but how in the world they’re going to make their long-distance relationship work is beyond me.

  “Look, Sailor. I’ve tried to be the best supportive friend, one who listens and doesn’t lecture, but I think it’s time to give you some advice, or let’s call it insight.”

  Staring over at her, I scrunch my forehead.

  “OK, this is a first. Let me hear it.”

  “You need to confront your past. Stop hiding on the Lower East Side, and go see your parents. Work shit out with them. Also, you should return to the Hamptons. I had no idea how much you loved the ocean until I saw you on the beach in Hawaii.

  “You talk about a magnet–that water was pulling you to it, but then I noticed how sad you were after you stood at its shore. You were so far inside your head.”

  She slaps my thigh. “So, girlfriend … I think it’s time you confront your fears and past. You’re trying to outrun them, but it’s obviously not working. If it was, you’d be at happy hour, picking up men instead of crying on the sofa.”

  “OK, but how do you propose I do that?”

  “If this Jake guy seems interested, ask him out. Or, take a drive to your family’s country home, and sit by the water. I don’t know, but it’s time to do something.

  “No fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl should have to endure what you did. That’s bad enough, but to let it ruin your whole life would be a greater crime.” Balling her hands into fists, Carrie stares off toward the window in our living room. “That guy better hope I never see him.”

  I grab her hand. “Stop. Maybe there’s a logical explanation as to why he’s never contacted me. I mean, maybe he doesn’t even live in the state. What if he turned into a criminal or his psychotic father beat him to death? Honestly, I’m better off not knowing.”

  “I disagree. He needs the wrath of this dynamic duo unleashed on him, but let’s start with baby steps. First, say hi to Jake the next time you see him at school, and then give your parents a call.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know what I’d do without your cheeriness and positive attitude every day.”

  Carrie’s eyes dart to the rug, and grasping a strand of her short brown hair, she drags it between her fingers, which I only ever see her do when she’s nervous.

  “What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “There’s something, or you wouldn’t be abusing your hair.”

  Touching her temples, she exhales.

  “I didn’t want to tell you while you’re upset.”

  “You might as well add a turd to the shit pile.”

  “What is it with you and shit?”

  “I told you. I’ve been a pile of it for a decade now.”

  Carrie rolls her eyes. “You were a kid when all that happened.” She points her finger at me. “No more shit talk. OK, here goes… Joshua asked me to move to Honolulu and live with him, and I’m strongly considering it.”

  “What? No. You barely know him.”

  She frowns. “That’s not true. We talk constantly. Hell, Josh and I probably talk more than we would if we were in the same city. We’ve become really close.”

  “It’s a huge life change, and Hawaii is so far from New York.”

  “Yes, but it feels right. He’s the one, Sailor. I know it.”

  “Wow.” I look at the floor as the tears form again.

  “You can come visit me on your school breaks, and I’ll try to come home a couple of times a year, so if we plan it right, we might only have to go a few months without seeing each other. We can call, FaceTime and email.”

  “It sounds like your ‘I’m strongly considering it’ is actually a definitive ‘yes.’ ”

  “It’s not, and please don’t be mad at me.” She jumps over to me on the sofa and hugs my body from the side, squishing me between her arms. “Say it. Say you won’t be mad at me if I do this.”

  “I won’t be mad. I’ll be sad and lonely, but that’s my issue to work through. I’ll be happy for you, Carrie, as long as you’re happy.”

  Leaning my head against hers, I recall when we met on our first day of college at Harvard. I don’t believe I would’ve ever returned to the city if it weren’t for my attachment to my best friend.

  Having grown up in Massachusetts, she’d always wanted to live in Manhattan, so she convinced me to return here once we graduated. I wasn’t about to let her leave me in Boston.

  Having her by my side was worth returning to the city … to the memories. With life comes change, and I better prepare for it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jake

 
“Maddie, Uncle Jake’s sorry. I promise to go back home and get it.”

  “But Ms. Lock–Lockwood told us we can’t forget our books.” My baby girl wails, and her cries cut through me, the sword dipped in her hot tears first. I’ve come to realize that letting her down is the worst feeling in the world.

  After reading with Maddie last night, I tucked her in and promised to put her book in her backpack, but I got sidetracked and left it on the kitchen counter.

  “Your teacher is nice, right? She seemed like it to me.”

  “Yes.” Her hiccup to breathe makes me cringe.

  “Then I think she’ll understand, especially when I tell her I’m going right back home to get it.”

  “OK.” Her one word isn’t convincing, so I keep glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

  “I’ll even go in and tell her it was my fault.”

  Maddie’s eyes widen like she hadn’t even thought of how much that would help. Sniffling, she straightens up in her booster seat, which barely fits in my Nissan GT-R.

  “Thank you, Uncle Jake. I need a tissue.”

  “Uh, I don’t have any.”

  “But my nose is running.” Her cries fill up the small space again and raise my anxiety. For fuck’s sake, move, people. I lay on my horn, which isn’t like me, but I’m not used to caring for a kid, and this one is messing with my heart and my damn schedule. Having to drive out of Greenwich sucks ass. “I miss my mommy.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Sweet girl, I miss her, too.” Glancing around the passenger side of my car, I see a muscle shirt I’d tossed in the seat one day. I grab it and hand it back to Maddie.

  “Here, blow your nose on this, and when I pick you up from school, we’ll make your mom cards. Your dad can take you to the post office in the morning to mail them to her. Sound good?”

  “You want me to blow my nose on your shirt?”

  Looking at her in the mirror again, I discover that females start young in perfecting their expressions and voices of disgust. I’ve heard that tone from a few women over the years. OK, maybe more than a few, and I’ve seen that twisted-up look too many times, as well.