Twisted Paths

by L. L. Collins

  “Anything you want to talk about? I’m a good listener,” Mia says softly. “No pressure. I know I’m just some random stranger on the beach.”

  I turn my watery eyes back to Mia’s clear blue ones, and I realize that I do want to talk about it. Maybe the fact that Mia is a stranger makes it more appealing. I can walk away and not have to worry about what Mia thinks of my pitiful life.

  “I have some frozen daiquiris in my cooler. Want to go up on the beach?” Mia points to an area right down from my chair.

  I nod, and Mia leads the way out of the water. I grab my chair and move it down next to Mia’s, suddenly feeling awkward. What am I doing about to spill my guts to this woman on the beach? Maybe I just need to go back to the condo and call Kinsley. What would Ronan say if he saw me sitting here about to divulge all of our personal information to a stranger?

  Just as the thought enters my head, anger fills me. Why in the hell am I worried about what Ronan would think? He didn’t think about me when he sent me a letter in the mail to end our marriage, or when he pulled away from our house without a backwards glance. I had never stood up to Ronan or anyone else for that matter. It’s about time I find my backbone and put it back where it belongs. The problem is, I have no idea how to do that.

  I watch as Mia opens the cooler and pulls out two pouches of frozen drink mix, then two disposable cups. “Are you from here?”

  Mia looks up, handing me a drink. “Yes. I live in Fort Myers, but I come out here just about every weekend. It’s a great stress reliever for me. So tell me, Liane, what brought you out here?”

  I look down at the light green drink in my cup, tears instantly forming again. I can’t look at Mia as I speak the words because I still can’t believe I’m going to tell her. “My husband left me.”

  Mia says nothing as I look out of the corner of my eye at her. She just sits, her drink in hand, waiting for me to continue. It’s nice because I know most people would say something ridiculous like ‘Oh, I’m so sorry’, or ‘Oh, that’s terrible,’ because they don’t know what to say. Mia just waits.

  “We’ve been married since I was eighteen. We had a son together that same year. I just took him to college. When I got home, my husband sent me a letter to break off marriage. A letter. Can you believe that?”

  I dare to look over at Mia. “That’s shitty, Liane. Did you have any idea?”

  “No,” I look down into her drink again. “Not at all. Ronan—my husband—has always worked a lot, and once he opened his own firm, it was pretty much twenty four-seven. But I never doubted he loved me. I was so stupid, Mia. So, so stupid.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “I made him talk to me,” I answer. “My best friend forced me to face him. That’s not me, not at all. I’m not a confrontational person, and Ronan knows this. I think he thought that the letter would be enough and he’d get to be free of me.”

  “So what happened when you talked to him?”

  “He said he didn’t love me, and that he wanted a divorce. When I…” A sob rips through me unexpectedly, and I cover my mouth, shaking my head to try to rid myself of the emotion. I can’t do this here. When I feel Mia’s hand on my shoulder, I lose my composure and begin sobbing. Before I know it, Mia is kneeling in front of me, her arms wrapped around my shaking shoulders. I feel foolish, letting this woman I have known for all of five minutes hold me, but damn if it doesn’t make me feel cared for and listened to. She takes my drink gently from my hands and wraps her hands around mine.

  “Liane, it’s not your fault. Men go through something at this age sometimes. Maybe he just needs some time to remember what you had, how he feels about you. Ask me how I know this.” I look up into her eyes and see sadness that matches mine. She’s been through something similar.

  “Were you married?” I ask boldly, looking down at her left hand and finding it bare.

  She nods. “Twenty years. My husband left me two years ago for a woman only a few years older than our daughter.”

  Tears spill down my cheeks again. “See? Your husband didn’t come back, what makes you think mine will?” I can’t tell her that I think Ronan might be cheating on me.

  She smiles at me, squeezing my hands gently. “I don’t know that, Liane. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. All you can do is take care of yourself. You can’t control what he does or doesn’t do. And you have to be okay if he never comes back to you. And maybe, just maybe, you decide that you’re better off without him, anyway.”

  “I love him,” I say, a twinge deep in my stomach making me cringe. I do love him. It’s always been him. Except when it wasn’t, a voice reminds me. Pushing that aside, I release my hands from Mia’s. “I’m sorry,” I wipe the tears from my eyes and pick my drink back up.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Mia says, standing up and going back to her chair. “Sometimes people are put in our lives for a reason. Some of them are meant to stay forever, and some of them play a role and then move on. I like to think that about everyone I meet, including my ex-husband. You don’t know what’s in store for your life, Liane. You’re still young and can’t let his decision to throw away your life together make you bitter. Believe me; I’ve been there. I had to make the choice to be who I wanted to be and be happy about the people that chose to be a part of my life.”

  “But what if I’m never happy again?”

  Mia looks out at the water, then back to me. “You can only be happy if you choose happiness, Liane. One person can’t control it. Only you can. If you’re always going to see your worth through someone else’s eyes, then you’ll never be truly happy.”

  My mouth opens and closes, but I can’t say anything. How many years have I only measured my own happiness by Ronan’s success? By Carter’s? Since when have I been happy for my own accomplishments and who I am as a woman? Sure, I’m a great teacher and have gotten awards over the years, but I’ve never taken much stock in that. And why haven’t I?

  I meet Mia’s eyes, and a knowing look passes between us. I feel like she knows me and can look into the very depths of my soul after just this short time. Maybe what she says about people being put in your life for a reason is right, and Mia is on this beach today for this very reason. A small smile plays on her lips as she recognizes the look on my face.

  “You’ve never worried about your own happiness, have you, Liane? I see this all the time.”

  My head reels with her question. What does she mean, she sees this all the time? “What do you mean?”

  Mia sips her drink, not immediately answering me. When she finally looks over at me, I immediately begin to worry about what she is going to say. “I’m a psychiatrist specializing in women and children, specifically those going through divorce. I’ve been in practice for almost twenty years now. Dr. Mia, at your service.”

  I stare at her, wondering what in the hell I had just done. She’s a psychiatrist. No wonder she’s so good at figuring me out; she does this for a living. I don’t know whether to be mad or relieved that I had stumbled across this woman on the beach. The urge to laugh bubbles up inside my chest, and I choose that reaction instead. Holding my stomach as the laughter takes over, Mia watches me a moment before joining in. This time the tears that come into my eyes are ones from laughter.

  Irony. Here I am, this broken woman whose husband doesn’t want her anymore, and out of the miles and miles of beach on this island, I find a woman whose husband left her and she counsels women for a living right here next to me. It’s like she dropped from the sky.

  “Dr. Mia,” I say finally when my laughter dies down. “Well isn’t that ironic.”

  She shrugs. “Everyone gets put in your life for a reason, Liane. Don’t forget that. It’s up to us to figure out what their purpose is and use it to the fullest. Now, off the record, because I would never tell this to a patient,” she pauses, taking a drink, “But since we’re friends on the beach, I can say it.”

  “What’s that?”

  She smirks. “Finding you
rself your own boy toy does wonders for the morale after your husband decides to be a douche and throw away the best thing he ever had.”

  Boy toy? What was she talking about? “What?”

  Mia turns her head and looks up and down the beach. “Yeah, probably wouldn’t find one here unless you’re in the market for the white hair variety. But you could meet me downtown and there you will find one for sure. You’re hot. Not that I go that way, but I can still appreciate.”

  I shake my head, not following her. “What in the world are you talking about?”

  She rolls her eyes. “A boy toy. A plaything. Nothing serious, just a roll between the sheets. Or against the couch. Or the kitchen counter… it’s a great distraction and it makes you feel damn good, too.”

  Heat rushes to my face as I realize what she is saying. There’s no way in hell. I’m not that kind of woman. I’m still married. I still want to be married. “Mia,” I sputter, averting my eyes from hers. This woman is crazy!

  “What?” Mia laughs. “It’s the truth! What’s better than making yourself feel better than a hot guy warming your bed?”

  “I could never,” I say. “I’m not knocking it for you, Mia. But for you, it’s been two years. For me, it’s been two days. I want my husband and my life back. I’m not looking to have some random hook up to make myself feel better.”

  Mia sips her drink, watching me over the rim. “I totally understand, Liane. I’m sorry if I offended you. It wasn’t my intention. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of me. Not at work of course. Ha. You probably think I’m some sort of kook shrink now, don’t you? I promise I am very professional.”

  “I’m not offended,” I laugh. “I’m just pretty raw still. Maybe someday, if things never really get better for us, I’ll be ready to open myself up again for someone else. But right now, all I can think about is how to get my husband back.”

  Mia nods. “Okay, so tell me more about him. Let’s see if Dr. Mia can get this jackass to come to his senses.”

  I ROLL OVER and look out to the waves hitting the shore, stretching my arms above my head. I’ve been here one week now, and that means it has been a week without any contact from Ronan. I’ve called and texted him every day, even resorting to emailing him a heartfelt letter just last night about how I will give him whatever space he needs, but I love him and want him back. I hated myself for doing it afterwards, but I know that if he comes back right now I will take him, no questions asked. I reach over to the nightstand for my phone, clicking my email app and praying that I’ll see his name there. After the new emails load, I sigh. Nothing from him. Scanning back through the email I sent, I cringe. I sound desperate. Well, I guess I am.

  I think about what Mia would say to that, and smile. Over the last week, I have seen Mia every day, whether here at the beach or in Fort Myers, and she’s coming back out to the beach today and staying with me at my condo tonight. She has really been trying to show me who I am as a woman and how to take care of myself, and I believe her and appreciate all that she’s helping me with. I know she’s right about everything she says, but doing it is hard. I’m not the strong woman that she is, and that’s something I tell her every day. It wasn’t until she had told me her entire story that I realized she had been me two years prior. She had lived her entire life for her husband and kids, just like me. The only thing she had done for herself was her career, much like me. Her partner at her practice had been the person to bring her out of the weak woman she had been and help her be the assertive person she is now. I don’t think I can change that drastically, but she seems to think differently. And she would hate it if she knew I had sent Ronan that email, but as she always told me, I had to do what was right for me.

  One week left of this ‘hiding out’ before I have to go back to reality and get ready for a new school year. It’ll be a good distraction, setting up my room and getting ready for Open House. It’s my favorite part of the year, meeting my new students and their parents. Having taught at the same school for a long time now, I know most of the families and we’re like a big family. It just might be the only thing that will keep me sane going back to that house.

  Sighing, I fling the covers off of me and stand up, watching a few lone beach goers picking up shells and walking the shore. It’s early, the sun just barely coming up over the horizon. I’m actually shocked that I slept that late; almost every night I pass out sometime after two in the morning and jolt awake, sweating and crying, by five. Dreams of Ronan mixed with Blake would fill my restless sleep. The problem is, I have no idea who I’m crying for. I keep telling myself that the reason I’m dreaming about Blake is because I’m here; everything I do here reminds me of my childhood with him. Before that fateful summer, we had been the best of friends. The small ice cream shop on the island reminds me of our favorite childhood ice cream— bubble gum—, the bike path reminds me of family bike rides at sunset, and the quirky restaurant on the main drag reminds me of stuffing ourselves with cornbread muffins until we both threw up, much to our parents’ disgust.

  A smile lifts my lips as more memories roll through me. I miss my friend. After that summer, our friendship had been destroyed. There was no coming back from the line we crossed, and I regret that more than anything. Blake has always understood me like no one else; not Ronan, Gretchen, Kinsley, or even my sister Beth. The hours we spent talking to each other in the two weeks we saw each other a year, plus the countless letters and phone calls over the years made us as close as two people could get. I wonder absently if I can find him; certainly he has a Facebook account. Doesn’t everyone at this point? I think how much easier it is to find someone now than when we were kids. There was no such thing as cell phones until I was almost out of high school; pagers were all the rage at that time. And the Internet? It was just for information then, and now you can do anything on it. We said all the time at work that we would never survive without the Google search feature.

  Before I can stop myself, I pick up my phone and open the Facebook app. I’ve been careful to stay off of it for the last week, not wanting anyone to know where I am or contact anyone, for fear they would find out about Ronan. But I’m not stupid; I know everyone is going to find out. Then I’ll just be the poor wife that Ronan Collier left. Going to the search bar, I type ‘Blake McIntyre’ and wait for it to load, my stomach clenching with nerves.

  When the page comes up with the possible matches, I click on each one, waiting to see a picture that could be him. I would know his blonde hair and chocolate eyes anywhere, so my frustration mounts as I click on page after page of guys that are definitely not my Blake. My Blake? I don’t have him anymore. I blow out a frustrated breath as the screen goes blank, then a new screen pops up showing Ronan’s name. Momentarily confused, I realize that Ronan is calling me. He’s calling me. This is it. He’s going to say he’s sorry and ask where I am, then he can come here and we can make love all day. It’s only a few hour drive, and it’s the weekend, after all. My email has to have worked. See, Mia? I can get my husband back.

  My hands shaking so hard I can barely press accept, I hit the button and put the phone up to my ear, my heart pounding so loud I can hear it in my ears. “H-hello?”

  “Liane.” Ronan’s voice is clipped, making me frown. He doesn’t sound any different than when he stood in front of me in our house over a week ago.

  “Hi Ronan,” I say cheerfully. “How are you? Did you get my email?”

  He clears his throat. “Liane, where are you?”

  My heart soars. He wants to know where I am; this is really going to happen. He’s coming back to me. “I’m at the beach.”

  “What beach?”

  “Sanibel.” There’s silence on the other end of the phone. “Ronan?”

  “Are you alone?”

  My mouth drops open. Am I alone? What kind of question is that? But then a smile breaks out over my face. He wants me alone. I silently whoop, allowing myself to jump up and down for just a second before I answer him. “I’m at my pa
rents’ time share. It’s just me, they didn’t come this year.”

  “Okay,” he responds, his voice softening. “Thank you.”

  I want to ask him so many things: Why does he want to know? Is he coming here? Is he sorry? But I’m too afraid to say anything. Why else would he ask where I am, right? He has to be coming here to apologize. “You’re welcome,” I say finally. “Ronan?”

  “I have to go,” he interrupts, and the next thing I know, the line goes dead. I frown at the phone, watching as his name disappears off the screen and the Facebook page comes back up. Feeling guilty, I exit the app, my hands still shaking. He didn’t say if he’s coming at all. But if he does, I have to be ready. Springing into action, I start picking up the condo, wanting everything to be ready for whenever Ronan arrives. He doesn’t like a mess.

  I need some lingerie. There’s nothing Ronan loves more than a hot outfit to get him going. I hadn’t brought any, of course. And who knows where I can find such a thing on a vacation island? Mia. Running for my phone, I wonder if I can catch her before she leaves to come out here. Maybe she has a solution to my problem.

  As the phone rings, I tap my toe on the ground, my stomach fluttering with anticipation. I have to call Kinsley too, and tell her maybe I’m coming home early after all. Or maybe, just maybe, I can convince Ronan to stay here for a few days and take some much needed time off. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Ply him while wearing lingerie.

  “Are you okay?” Mia answers, and I realize it’s still rather early.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

  “I’m up and packing up to head out there. Are you okay?”

  I grin, suppressing the urge to jump up and down again. “I’m great. Ronan called me.”

  “He called you? Or you called him?” Damn, Mia knows me so well already.

  “Well, I’ve called him several times. But, just now, he called me.”

  “And?”