Clear As Day

by Babette James

  He had to laugh. He’d rented from Bev for ten years, and it’d be the first time they’d be on the island at the same time since the day Bev had handed him the key.

  Did Kay assume he was going to have an affair with Bev on their travels like Kay’s father had apparently done on his business trips? She’d jumped to the wrong conclusion easily enough at Olivia’s innocent kiss.

  Hell, he might as well leave the Whisper here with Lloyd and have Chuck drop him at the Marina. He’d ask Dave, but didn’t need Dave bitching at him the whole way.

  That way he didn’t have to be sober for the next forty-eight hours.

  Stupid plan, but the only one he had left he could handle.

  ****

  After several hours of tossing and turning and sharp wakings from dozes with her heart racing and skin clammy, Kay was no closer to a satisfactory answer when the soft, unsteady crunch of Nate walking around the camp caught her ears. A hissing zip of a bag followed, then random hushed snaps, a clattering of small objects, a muffled, “Shit!”, the quiet brushing of his teeth and spitting.

  His shuffling footsteps returned toward the tent and, to her surprise, he unzipped the tent netting.

  “Nate?” Awkward hope and shame flamed over her. He hadn’t chosen to sleep on the boat?

  He sat clumsily onto the edge of the cot, rocking their bed enough that Kay caught hold of the frame.

  “Sorry I woke you,” he mumbled and slumped forward, resting elbows on his knees and scrubbing his hands over his face.

  “I was awake.” She rose up on one arm.

  Nate stayed quiet for several long minutes, face resting in his hands.

  “Nate?” Swallowing hard, she touched his shoulder.

  With a sigh, he leaned into her hand for a long moment, and then irritably jerked away, overbalanced, and caught the cot frame to steady himself. “G’to sleep.”

  Hurt, guilt and worry spurted through Kay.

  He straightened, and after two tries, he zipped the netting closed. He awkwardly collapsed alongside her, stretched out on his back, and exhaled a heavy groan smelling strongly of beer and minty toothpaste. His eyes fell shut.

  How much had Nate had to drink? She’d never seen him drunk before. “Nate? Are you okay?”

  Nate flinched and shook his head. “Got t’sleep. I’s late.” He rolled over without touching her.

  She curled into her pillow, and the tears finally broke loose to soak the smooth cotton.

  Sunday morning dawned cool and lovely, the sky innocent of the day’s coming heat. Any other morning waking with Nate beside her, Kay could have rolled over and spooned around the solid comfort of him. She’d ruined that option.

  She slipped from under the blanket and off the cot. As she eased out of the tent, Nate fitfully flopped over into her vacated space and snored into her pillow.

  She crept around the camp, trying to be quiet as she started the pot of coffee, washed her face and dressed. The lake stretched out glass smooth, reflecting the pastel dawn, with only the gentlest licking current at the gravel shore. The ordinary melody of morning began as red-winged blackbirds warmed up their calls, a mallard added its soft, inquiring quack, and a mourning dove fluttered into camp and cooed to its mate.

  But the cool peace of the morning did nothing helpful for her thoughts. Her mind felt like a television with no signal, all static and frustrating interference.

  Her eyes settled on her broken sandals, lying forgotten under the table. She bent and picked them up. The snapped leather straps were irreparable. She dropped them into the trash.

  She’d just poured her second cup of coffee when she heard the zip of the tent netting behind her.

  Nate unfolded out of the tent door, rumpled and shadow-eyed. “Hey.”

  She fought to keep her voice casual as she poured him a cup and added his milk and sugar. “Hey, yourself. Do you want pancakes for breakfast?” Just like any other leaving day, right?

  “Okay. Thanks.” He dropped his open toiletry kit on the table, dug around in heavy, frustrated movements, and finally pulled out an aspirin bottle. He shook some tablets into his hand and swallowed them with a gulp of coffee and a grimace. He winced and put on his sunglasses.

  All during the awkwardly silent breakfast she had trouble meeting his eyes. The pancakes stuck like glue in her throat.

  You could be truthful. Straight out ask him for time. When he comes home from his trip, both of you can sit down and see where you stand. The pressure will be off.

  But she’d handed back the ring. She’d hurt him too much last night. A year apart would only make things worse, not better. Even if she did, he was still leaving. They were out of time.

  Ask him to stay.

  Ask him to give up this dream of his? Be like her mother, hold tight and hold him back, attack and undermine his talents and successes? No, no way. She didn’t trust herself or the jealousy she’d discovered in herself anymore, and Nate needed to be free.

  Nate shoved away from the table. “Got to pack.” He’d only eaten half his normal serving and had twice his usual coffee. She wrapped the leftovers and put them in the ice chest.

  Nate packed his boat, spending a good amount of time in the cabin—apparently, he’d decided to reorganize all the storage lockers or take a nap or something. Kay spent the time fussing over pencil sketches of the Whisper until it was time for the farewell lunch over at Spider Camp.

  Nate emerged from the Whisper’s cabin just as she was ready to go see if he was sleeping.

  They hiked over to the rest of the folks without talking. They should have taken the long way over, around the rocky shoreline, because the heat and glare was too much today. Nate’s face was pinched and he was squinting behind his dark sunglasses.

  Lunch was low-key: simple tuna sandwiches, chips, and cookies, and the chatter split between the omnipresent topics of fish and Nate’s imminent adventure.

  Nate joined the guys for a last round of skiing. Skiing was out for Kay with her banged-up palms. Unfortunately, that left her with JoAnn.

  JoAnn had tried to pull Kay aside before lunch, and kept giving her narrow, laser-eyed glances and pointed frowns at Kay’s bare finger all through the meal. Mama hen was not happy.

  JoAnn finally cornered Kay. “What happened? Why aren’t you wearing the ring?”

  “I gave it back. It’s better this way. For both of us.” They were both better off with their freedom.

  “Bullshit. Get real. He loves you and you love him. Make it work, Kay.” JoAnn crowded her and Kay backed away a step, coming up against the metal kitchen table.

  “And how? And when? He’s leaving today. This expedition is a fantastic opportunity he can’t pass up. His dream. He needs his freedom and I want him to go.” All true.

  “You two belong together.” JoAnn shook her head, blue eyes angry and confused. “This is so wrong, damn it!”

  “It’s done, JoAnn.” Kay pasted on her smile and turned back to the group.

  ****

  Nate’s headache pounded, and hitting the wakes was not helping the matter one bit.

  This, dumbass, is why getting drunk is a stupid, stupid idea, remember? Didn’t you learn this lesson way back in college?

  And hadn’t he decided to sleep on the boat?

  Waking up in Kay’s bed had been an awkward surprise. And since they weren’t really talking today, he had no idea what he might have done, and Kay’s defensive anxiety wasn’t giving him any reassuring clues.

  Mark was doing good back there on the ski, looking more confident in his easy S’s on the wake and handling the crazy chop of wake crossings with more control and less wobbly rubber band posture.

  “So what the hell is wrong with you and Kay? What’d you do?”

  Dave’s vicious question had Nate whipping his head around in shock. “What did I do?” Ow, shit. Not a good move with the head.

  “She’s miserable. The ring’s missing. You’re looking like a kicked dog. So what the hell did you do?�
� The snarl on Dave’s face would do a Doberman proud.

  The wild urge to belt his best friend burned over Nate. “I didn’t do anything! She doesn’t love me. She doesn’t want to marry me. She gave the ring back. End of story.”

  “Bullshit!”

  Nate gave up on reasonable and shouted over the roar of the engine. “You know, I’m not the bad guy here! I have no choice. I have to leave today. What the hell else can I do? I’m out of time. I’ve tried everything. Talking. Listening. It hasn’t changed a damned thing.”

  “You need to stick around and work it out.”

  “Great advice from a man who thinks staying until breakfast with a one-night stand is a long-term relationship.”

  “This isn’t about my life. It’s yours, shithead. Tell her you’re staying.”

  “Give me one good reason why I should throw over the offer of my life and stay, because I’m really done with ripping my heart out here.”

  “Because you love her, asshole. There’s plenty of jobs out there. Only one Kay.”

  “Yeah, but she doesn’t love me. Won’t love me. It’s a dead end and always has been. I’ve just been a fool and refused to see it.”

  “She does love you. Damn it, you need to stay and give her time.”

  “How much more time do I give? I’ve been trying for six years. Walking on eggshells for six years. Living on hope for six years. I finally got my life set so I could give her everything, so I wouldn’t have to hit the road anymore, so I could be with her for the rest of my life. That didn’t make her happy. Say I tell Kincaid thanks, but no thanks, and I stay? Then what? Be happy that I threw over the opportunity of my life, keep on with the broken record that I love her, and keep having it thrown back in my face? It’s taken six years, but I’m finally going to wise up and take the hint.”

  “Shit, listen to me. She loves you, man. You got to keep your ass here.”

  “She doesn’t love me. It’s done.”

  “You’re a stupid fuck.”

  “When you’re right, you’re right.” Nate turned away just in time to see Mark wipe out hard on the wake. “Mark’s down!” He whipped up the skier down flag.

  Dave whipped the boat around.

  No blond head bobbed up shaking the fall off and no hands clasped over head or goofy wave okay.

  “Oh, shit!”

  Mark floated on his back. Moving sluggishly, but moving. Thank you, God.

  Dave got them there fast, cut the speed and slewed around, coming up slow and neat.

  “Take the wheel!” Dave was already out of his seat.

  Mark was coughing his lungs out, not even trying to swim. No, not okay.

  Dave jumped overboard and swam to him. Nate waited.

  “Mark.” Dave caught hold of Mark’s vest. “You okay?

  Mark coughed more and opened his eyes. “That totally sucked, dudes,” he croaked and lifted his head.

  “Yeah. Lie still for a minute. I got you.”

  “How’s water so damn hard?” Mark coughed harshly again and relaxed into Dave’s grip.

  “Anything hurt? Open your eyes and look at me.”

  Mark coughed and choked out a laugh. “My pride.”

  “Seriously, funny guy, you hit hard. What’s hurting?”

  “Nah, nothing really. A little dizzy. Swallowed the whole damn lake though.”

  Nate brought the boat in close, and Dave helped Mark up the steps.

  Mark collapsed on the bench. “I’m okay,” he wheezed.

  Dave grinned, but his eyes were all business. “Sure you are. Just let me give you another look-see.” While Dave gave Mark a good checking over, Nate gathered in the rope, caught the ski, and took them into the camp. Mark had his breath back by the time they arrived, and most of the wobbles were gone when Dave and Nate helped him over the side and up to the beach.

  Dave put Mark in the hands of Olivia and the other women and let them fuss. Olivia agreed, Mark was fine, just shaken up and the wind knocked out. He was already cracking jokes and soaking up the feminine fussing.

  Since the earlier aspirin had proved useless, it was now time to try the hair of the dog. Nate grabbed a beer, and struggled to focus on packing the last of his things.

  Stay.

  Yeah, and keep getting his heart handed back to him? Time to cut his losses. Better to have loved and lost and all that shit, right?

  No. Frankly, loving and losing totally sucked.

  He’d worry about what to do with the house later. Maybe the place wouldn’t be too haunted by dashed dreams, if onlys and might have beens. The can crinkled under his grip. Shit. Wasn’t as if Kay had lived there with him.

  He’d be too busy anyway. Feet on the road, eye to the camera like always. The house was just another place to stash his clothes and equipment now.

  The real estate agent had raved about the possibilities for the house as a great investment property. He hadn’t moved all his crap out of the apartment on Oahu yet. Maybe he’d cancel the movers, e-mail the agent and tell her to find him a renovation contractor and a tenant.

  At least he hadn’t said anything to his family about buying the house for Kay. Was that proof he hadn’t believed firmly enough? That he’d always secretly known she would never love him the way he loved her?

  Rounding up his odds and ends of fishing and ski equipment took no time. He downed the beer and set the empty can aside. He felt like he was riding rapids, headed inexorably toward a waterfall. That same out of control dread. Same helplessness.

  So stay.

  He made the blurred rounds of last goodbyes and well wishes. He ignored Dave’s and JoAnn’s pointed glares and Lloyd’s questioning shrug.

  Done. He slung his bag over his shoulder and picked up his vest and ski.

  Kay’s gaze caught with his. This time her stricken blue eyes would not move him.

  Stay and work it out.

  No. Way. No. How. I’m out of here.

  Her shoulders sagged.

  He was out of time, and he just couldn’t do this any longer.

  ****

  Nate said his goodbyes to their friends, his voice cheerful and full of enthusiasm, just like any other leaving day.

  His hollow eyes were not.

  Each step back to Skunk Beach gave Kay one less step of time to fix everything. One less step of time to figure herself out. Her throat was one tight ache and her head throbbed. The heat and glare hurt. She wanted to crawl into her tent and hide.

  Back at camp, Nate emptied his pockets of keys and the usual odds and ends, tossed his hat and sunglasses on the table, and changed into a fresh T-shirt and shorts.

  Kay pulled out a bottle of water from the cooler and took two aspirin.

  He studied her with an odd wrinkle between his brows.

  Maybe this all would have been easier if he’d stormed off in a cursing huff like R.J., but he was Nate, and that wasn’t Nate’s way.

  Maybe if they had thrown a few things, broken something, screamed at one another like her parents.

  Kay searched herself, digging to find that spark of passion, that rage of love so all-consuming in her family, to start something, but ranting and raving wasn’t her way, and she found none of that crazed passion or anger, only pain and confusion.

  See, you do know him. Tell him. Tell him why. Let him fix it. You’re an idiot, Kay. Make it work, like JoAnn said. There’s got to be a way.

  But the words jammed in Kay’s throat as she gave him the watercolor of Skunk Beach. She loved that painting, but she couldn’t bear to look at it again.

  He set it carefully onboard the Whisper. “I’ll send you the first copy of the Down Under book.”

  Nate loaded his last bag into the boat and waded back. He stood by her table, hands clenched in his pockets. “I think that’s everything.” He wore those damned mirrored sunglasses that hid his eyes.

  “Looks like you’re good to go.” Her camp was neat and tidy again. Just his fishing hat and keys remained. She’d have plenty of peace
to get back on her painting schedule.

  Nate scooped his hat and keys off the table and turned. He quirked a smile, warm, but sad. He walked toward her, stopped, stroked his hand over her cheek and touched a chaste kiss to her lips. “Be good. I’ll call you.”

  He settled his hat on his head, pulled the beach anchor and wound the rope as he waded toward the Whisper.

  “I—I won’t be home until the eleventh or so.” This was for the best. She’d made the correct decision. He needed to be free. This was the only choice for his career. She was not her mother. Would not be her mother. Never. No matter the pain. Better to hurt a little now, than for both of them to be in utter misery later. Right?

  “I remember. You told me. You’ll write?”

  “Yes.” The simple exchange of words was casual, exactly like every other year. Except this time, he kept his back to her, and each word felt like a lead sinker dropped into the lake without lines.

  “I’ll keep everyone posted by e-mail.” The rope was completely coiled. Nate pushed the boat out and clambered aboard. “See you next year. We’ll keep it just the same. Mohave in July, like always.”

  “Yes, the same. Take care.” Her voice came stiff and far too earnest.

  A cold weight filled the pit of her belly as if she was seeing his back for the last time.

  Nate raised the sails. The hot breeze gently filled the bright canvas and sent the Whisper gliding off.

  Kay turned away, unable to watch him disappear. She had done the right thing. Nate needed to be able to come and go and travel the world without a neurotic, jealous woman fretting over what he was up to on his travels. He needed to focus on the brilliant upswing of his career.

  And she needed to focus on her career. She sold desert paintings. Watercolors of rocks. She was a one-trick pony. She wouldn’t be left alone and miserable in a place she didn’t understand, making him miserable.