Falling In
Page 9
She moved into the hot jet and let it cover her face. With eyes clamped shut, she allowed herself go back to their sensual meeting. It didn’t take much for her to remember how his lips felt against her most tender flesh; how she could feel every tickling grain of sand between her toes as they curled in pure ecstasy.
The water gushed past her fingers as she ran them over her shoulders and continued down to her naked stomach. When she reached the tempting curve of her hip, a shudder of delight nearly made her slip on the soapy water beneath her feet.
Her eye lids snapped open and she quickly turned the water off. The last thing that she needed was to get carried away, fall and knock herself out with nobody around.
“Wow,” she said and tried to wave away the thick curtain of steam that filled the spacious bathroom. She flung the shower curtain open and wrapped a light green towel around her body. Even though the sink and mirror were a few feet away, she could barely see the outline of either through the fog.
A pattering of water drops on the cool tile followed Audrey as she carefully walked over and wiped away the mirror with her hand. Some time passed before she sat back and took a good, hard look into her own deep blue eyes. In a way, it was something that she was avoiding. The truth about everything was right there, hardly veiled by irises that seemed to tell the story of the struggle going on inside. Framing them, thin threads of red fanned out over the whites from a few too many hours of crying.
Audrey ran both hands through her sopping wet hair and lifted, allowing small chunks to slap back down between her shoulders as they left her fingers. Her mind went right back to Liam and she wondered what it would feel like if it was his fingers slipping over her sensitive scalp. Would he simply go through, or would he stop and pull to force her to do what he wanted?
She shook the thought away and reached over to a plastic bag from the general store, which dangled from the edge of the modest mirror, and pulled out a fresh bandage. Unrolling it slowly between the fingers at the end of her damaged wrist, Audrey carefully examined the scattered wounds. All but two were almost completely healed. The others were scabbed over and didn’t look that bad. They were still noticeable, but not like before when it looked like she jammed her arm through a window in a fit of rage.
Her unraveling fingers paused and she stared down at the cuts. She tried her best to hold it back, but the hot sting of tears stabbed at the very corners of her eyes. Not long after, fat drops pattered down onto the porcelain sink.
Though the flesh wounds were well on their way to healing, the ones in Audrey’s heart still felt as raw as the day that she arrived in Cedar Key. They nagged at the back of her thoughts and made her doubt everything that she thought she understood about people and love.
On one hand, she had Max, who hurt her so badly after claiming a decade of love and devotion. Then there was Liam, who was willing to give without expecting anything back; who watched out for her because he wanted to, not because he had to.
“Maybe it’s time to let go,” she looked up and said to her reflection.
The flesh-colored bandage slipped from her fingers, hit the lip of the sink and fell to the floor. A small section of the unwrapped portion fluttered behind it like a flag as it went.
“Yeah,” she whispered to herself and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing out whatever tears waited to fall. Audrey took the plastic bag down from the mirror and plopped it into a small trash can near the toilet without even looking. She was tired to hiding everything, tired of running from the world.
Unfortunately, it was the only thing that she knew how to stop hiding.
---
Arthur McBride wasn’t waiting for her when she rode up to finish her painting job early that morning. Instead, his loyal employee, Susan, sat behind the desk and greeted her with a quiet wave. All of her supplies, on the other hand, were right where she left them.
Audrey wasted no time getting back into her spot, where she leaned over and worked carefully with her tongue clamped between her lips. Though she couldn’t say the same for any other areas of her life, she felt a little more assured of her painting skills. Brush strokes came more and more naturally and the colors that she blended took fewer and fewer tries to get just right.
Before long, a pleasant wave of nostalgia hit. She remembered how brightly her passion for the arts burned before settling down with a job and a husband. In high school and college, a normal Friday night consisted of galleries, theater productions and trips to see shows that she saved up for months to pay for. But at the end of the day, Audrey always went back home to practice her craft, sometimes spending hours seated in front of an easel or hunched over a note pad. The medium didn’t matter; just that she got to do it.
Her brush skillfully dipped over Triton’s trident and brightened its golden hue. She wondered why she let herself forget such a big part of who she was; why she allowed Max to come in and dictate the things that she liked.
How could I forget this feeling? She wondered as the rhythmic brush strokes lulled her into a patient, still, focused place.
Hours passed before she came up for air, and that was only because Arthur called to her from down the hall.
“Why,” Arthur stopped dead in his tracks and stroked his chin. “You brought him back to life.”
Audrey felt her cheeks go red.
“Thank you. I’m actually going to be done soon. I put in just what it needed to look right, nothing else.”
“I think you’re doing a fine job. Do you mind if I keep you company for a little bit?”
“If you don’t mind talking to my back.”
“Of course not,” he said and pulled a chair down from one of the many tables that were pushed to the sides of the room.
Audrey moved down a couple of steps to finish the bottom corner of the painting.
“So how’s the weather back home?”
“In Chicago?” She thought for a second and quickly realized that she hadn’t even checked since her arrival in Florida. “I don’t know. It was freezing when I left but I’d imagine it didn’t last long.”
Arthur mumbled in agreement and said, “Do you like it up there?”
The brush in Audrey’s hand stopped for a moment as she replied, “I did.”
“Not anymore?”
She went on painting and brushed away the frizzy hairs that tickled the skin right below her eyebrows.
“I’ll always love the town, I guess, but I’m just tired of it: the people, the traffic, everything.” What she didn’t say was that there was one particular person that she hated most; the one person who drove her to question her place in the world. “Coming down here has really made me wonder if I shouldn’t try somewhere new; somewhere different, you know?”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “My family’s been here for generations.”
“And you’ve never been anywhere else?”
“Not exactly,” he replied. Audrey could hear him lean forward in his seat. The chair’s creaks and groans filled the room as he went on, “I’ve traveled, but I always want to come back here. This is my home.”
She wondered what that feeling was like. While still alive, most of Audrey’s family didn’t speak. Even her mom and dad hadn’t called in 9 months or so, but it was that way for as long as she could remember. Without the people to tie her to one place, she realized, there wasn’t anywhere that she felt drawn to.
Nowhere, that is, except for the old mill on Atsena Otie Key. Even as she and Arthur continued their small talk, she wondered about what was inside of the leaning building. Did the workers leave behind their tools? Were there old, rusty machines that sat as a testament to the fallen cedar empire that put the town on the map still there? She didn’t know, but the mystery surrounding it was enough to keep her thoughts away from more depressing issues.
“Why? What is it about this place?”
“I don’t think that’s something anyone can put a finger on, Miss. A place is a home when your heart says it is.”
“I think I’m done.”
Arthur swatted his knee with one hand and hopped from his seat to examine her work more closely. He was quiet for a while, with a hand on his chubby chin and his nose just a hair away from the mural’s surface.
“You’ve earned your keep, my girl,” he said and patted her once on the shoulder. “I think you’ve done a wonderful job.”
Audrey’s heart felt like it leapt into her throat.
“Really? You’re sure?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied and fished a fat envelope out the pockets of his slacks. “This is for your trouble, of course.”
She accepted the cash, but couldn’t peel her eyes away from the painting. Surprising herself, she somehow managed to pull it off. With colors as bright as they were when it was first put up, King Neptune and his sea friends sat proudly on the bar’s back wall, overlooking the whole room.
As she combed over her work one last time, Audrey couldn’t help but feel elated. Of all the things that had gone wrong, it was nice to produce something that was so, so right.
“Let me help you pick up,” she said.
Arthur shook his head and led her away from her work area.
“My cleaning boys are coming in soon. They will take care of it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, of course. Go and relax today. You’ve worked hard enough.”
She smiled and started to walk away, but and nagging voice in her head made her stop and turn back around.
“Hey,” Audrey said and held up a finger. “You wouldn’t happen to have a kayak, would you?”
Arthur chuckled.
“I own a hotel on the beach. Of course I have kayaks.”
“Do you think I could borrow one?”
“As long as you promise not to rob any banks or anything.”
“In a kayak?”
He shrugged his shoulders and replied, “This is Florida. I’ve heard stranger stories.” He pointed toward the backside of the building where they ate lunch the day before and continued, “They’re down by the water, just slide one off of the sand and bring it back up when you’re done.”
“Thanks,” Audrey said and tossed the envelope of cash between her hands. “Hey, can you hold onto this for me until I get back?”
Arthur accepted the money and nodded his head.
“Of course.”
“Perfect,” she said and started to trot toward the rear door. “Thanks again!”
Just as promised, four small boats sat jauntily in the sand, each one listing in a different direction near the water. As she dragged a yellow one toward the shore, Audrey wasn’t completely sure that she knew the way back to Atsena Otie Key, but she was more than willing to give it a shot. There was something about the blissfully lonely atmosphere there that she needed to feel again if she ever wanted to figure out how to make things right.
---
Audrey shielded her eyes with one hand and let the kayak bob in the choppy waters. Just over her shoulders, her golden hair fluttered and danced around. The island wasn’t far away, but a hearty wind coming from that direction made her progress slow. Her upper arms already burned from rowing by herself against the warm breeze. On top of all that, the ocean’s rough top made her empty stomach start to turn.
By the time she jumped out into the mid-shin water and pulled the boat onto the shore, she seriously considered kissing the rotted dock out of joy.
Don’t get too excited, she thought. You still have to paddle back.
Ahead, the fallen town’s graveyard waited with a strange mix of eerie and serene that made Audrey’s nerves suddenly stand at attention. Even the tiny hairs on the back of her neck perked up as she slowly walked through the carpet of fallen, squishy leaves to the headstone that she tried to clear off the last time that she was there.
She crouched down and finished cleaning the small rectangle off, plucking away the last few leaves with the tips of her fingers.
EDWARD BOYD
Born January 16, 1863 Died April 3, 1895
God keep his soul.
“You were the same age as me,” she said to the long-dead resident and swiped away most of the mud that sat around the name.
Audrey’s thoughts started to stray away from relationships, drama and men. She wondered about the people who used to live on the small island. What were their lives like? How did they live and love? She thought about the old schoolhouse that probably bustled children and their doting mothers while the old mill buzzed with activity not too far away.
She stood up and flicked the mud off of her fingers before she wiped them on her shorts and continued inland. But even as she moved on, the lingering curiosity about the town’s former life followed.
Passing by the school house, she only peeked in for a second. The thing she really wanted to see--the thing that she nearly paddled her arms off for--was the towering old building where millions of indigenous cedar trees went to die.
Like an old friend, the red spires waited at the end of Audrey’s slow path. More than any other place on the tiny island, the mill seemed so serene and calm. From somewhere in the regrowth beyond, the call of wild birds echoed through the trees, while the occasional snap and crackle of branches added to the natural cadence.
Audrey stopped in the shadow of one of the flume supports--a few yards away from where the wooden building’s front doors once stood. Same as the windows, the doors were long since lost to time, weather or vandals and that allowed her to peer into the cavernous space.
Most of the machinery was long gone, likely washed away by the storm of 1896. The only thing that remained was a long central pit that ended with the rusted skeleton of a giant saw, though the wheel-like blade was long gone. In its place, endless rows of cobwebs darted back and forth. They were so thick that they looked like the gap was stuffed with dingy cotton balls.
Before she realized it, Audrey walked past the threshold and followed along the side of the aging pit where the logs were brought in.
“Look at this place,” she whispered to herself and peered up. Hundreds of small holes--and a few large ones--studded the building’s roof, allowing countless threads of light to break through and shine down onto her in fleeting dots as she shuffled around.
At the other end of the mill, she reached out and ran her hand over the saw’s impressive framework. Its lumpy rivets and flaking paint tickled the inside of her palm as she moved along and wondered what the factory might have sounded like when it was running full-bore.
A screeching gull snapped her eyes away from the pile of rust as it hopped around near a door that looked like it hadn’t been opened since the storm rolled through over a hundred years earlier. Seeing it, Audrey walked over and shooed the noisy, flapping bird away.
On the door, a square patch of wood that was lighter than the rest made it obvious that there was once a sign there. There was no handle for her to grab, so she rested both palms against where the sign used to sit and pushed forward.
The door didn’t even budge, so she threw her shoulder against it. That, as it turned out, was a mistake.
With a groan and a rumble, the door snapped away from its ancient hinges and set much of that section of the building crashing down onto Audrey as she spilled back outside. Old beams and chunks of wood showered down onto her legs and knocked her forward onto the ground.
When things stopped falling, she tried to gently slip her legs from the pile, but the laces on her sneakers were caught on something. Audrey groaned and jerked her legs from beneath the rotting wood. When she did, a surprisingly sturdy splinter dug into her right ankle and immediately drew out a thin trickle of blood.
Without getting up, she lowered her head down to the soft ground and sighed.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” She shook her head into the leaves and asked herself again, “What the fuck are you doing?”
Audrey laid there on he
r stomach and wondered about all of the events that brought her right to that moment; to some deserted island in Florida with her leg bleeding and her spirits crushed. Everything that had been right before was now wrong; all that was good wasn’t so wonderful anymore. She felt like almost everything in her life had lost its luster.
A quick and painful feeling of defeat took hold of her petite, shaking body. Though the adrenaline still pumped through her veins, it did little to help dull the emotions that tore her up from the inside like shards of glass. Regardless of the choices that she made from that point on, Audrey knew that simply going back to the way things were before wasn’t an option. She wasn’t sure if she could ever forgive Max for what he did, nor was she sure if she was ready to spill everything to Liam. The only thing that she was certain of was the fact that all of her options had some potentially painful consequences.
If she went back to Max, could she ever look past the pain that he inflicted? Would she ever be able to look him in the eye again and say that she truly loved him? And what about her current situation? What if she was just a summer fling to Liam? He knew that she was leaving eventually. Why wouldn’t a single guy look for some hot action that will go away afterward? Worse, what if he actually had feelings for her? What would he do if she told him the truth?
The physical pain from her new injury started to spread out and quickly overtook the emotional one. Audrey groaned and moved her ankle back and forth to make sure that nothing was broken. Thankfully everything moved fine, even if though felt like someone was holding a lighter up to her skin when she flexed.
“Damn it,” she said and sighed.
“Audrey?” Liam’s voice cut through the sound of groaning boards that continued to settle nearby. “Audrey is that you?”
She sighed and kicked a chunk of wood off her foot. It promptly turned to mostly dust and a few small splinters before sprinkling onto the ground.
“The one and only.”