by
Andrea Randall
Copyright 2013 Andrea Randall
For Melissa Brown: The most romantic person in the universe.
“This land is incredible. Who owns it?” I look around on the most perfect summer day that’s ever existed.
Rae slows down so her horse is walking in step with mine. “The Greysons. Lauren and Warner were friends with my parents forever. We’d come up here all the time as kids and get lost on purpose.” Her smile makes me feel like I’m right there with her. Back in her memories.
“Did they have kids?”
Rae nods. “Older, though. Well, the girl was around Bo’s age, but she was never interested in him, and I don’t think he was in her. They were good friends. Zoë is her name. The boy, Kevin, was in college before I was in high school. I don’t really remember him.”
The breeze picks up, and loose strands of Rae’s black hair whip from under her helmet. Summer breezes are the best; you hear them coming before you feel them, and they’re always warm. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath through her nose.
I love you.
I can’t say it. I want to so badly, but I can’t. The way she lets her lips part as she’s lost in her smile begs me to say it. It’s too soon, though. Too soon. We’ve only been together for two months, even though it seems longer. Everything is so effortless with her.
Rae is optimistic, bright in ways her older brother, Bo, can’t be, especially with all of that brooding he’s doing over his ex-girlfriend, Ember. I still don’t really understand what happened there, but Rae assures me it will all work out for them in the end. Apparently Bo and Ember are meant to be. If the level of snark and brood one shows during a breakup is directly proportional to the “meant to be” factor of a couple, those two are goddamn soul mates. That’s what Rae says, too. She uses the term soul mate as if it doesn’t come with centuries of baggage attached to it.
See? Effortless. Love is love. Soul mates are soul mates. And she is perfect. My term, not hers.
We come to the head of several trails that all disappear instantly into thick woods. My heart races a little in anticipation. Reality knocks, but I know I can stay here a while longer. In this dream. Before it’s shredded into a nightmare.
Normally I wake myself up when we get here, to the trail. Sometimes I push it, though. I just want to be with her a little bit longer.
“Which trail are we taking?” I ask, holding my horse back. He’s as anxious here as he was when it happened. Like he knew what was coming.
Rae points with her chin to a trail on the left of the tree line. “That one. It’s shaded and this sun is brutal today.”
I nod and back my horse up a few steps so she can take the lead.
I really should wake up now, but she still has more to say. And one more smile to give.
Not yet. Just a few more minutes.
“Oh,” she sighs in relief, “thank God for shade.”
My horse leads me just behind her and I’m grateful to find out she’s right. I didn’t realize how hot the sun was until I was in the coolness under the branches. Huge trees. Evergreens, pines, maples, and probably a few others my two years in Boy Scouts didn’t teach me, create a narrow tunnel of nature that we travel down in single file fashion.
Rae turns around and smiles.
Wake up. Now.
I don’t, though. I’m greedy tonight and want to hear her voice one more time.
“You with me, Regan? You got really quiet.”
“This trail ... it’s ... wow.” I gesture with one hand to the grandness of the earth around us.
She giggles.
I forgot she’d done that.
“Right? Come on, let’s get going. This trail is long.” She commands her horse to pick up its step, and it follows loyally.
I do the same with mine, but make it slow slightly as a low hum filters into my ears. It sounds like a far away tractor, or lawnmower, but I didn’t see anyone else in the large pasture we just crossed. And, she just said the trail was long.
Leave. Now. Open your eyes, Regan.
My throat closes and I try to swallow. Nothing. My horse pulls back as I try to push it forward. He shakes his head and lifts his front legs slightly. Warning. I’m not trained enough on horses to know that, though. I think he’s just not submitting to me.
You’ve seen this enough, man. Open your eyes. Wake up. Wake up!
The humming is louder now and I don’t say anything because I’m trying to find the source. Rae is several yards ahead and seems to hear it, too. Her head moves slowly side to side as she continues her stride forward.
Then, I look up. It’s there. Huge. Grey like brains and dangling from a branch just above her.
It’s too late.
The bees come.
Regan
“Thank you guys for letting me stay with you while I look for a place.” I yawned and poured milk into my coffee, looking at the boxes surrounding Bo and Ember’s new kitchen.
Through the window over the sink, the calm waters of Mission Bay greeted me. North Cove, to be exact. And I was ... envious. Soft, crystal blue waves lapped up onto the almost-white sand that was a couple of dozen yards from the sliding doors off of the kitchen. The house was tucked neatly into the cove, and I could see the tiny bungalows and cottages that lined the cul-de-sac of water on all sides. None were over a story high, allowing for a full view of the small mountains just beyond the bay.
Inhabited by mainly year-round residents, it was a far cry from the ocean side of Mission Blvd. Or “wild side”, as the neighbors called it.
I knew I’d never be able to afford to find a place like this on my own, so I was taking in what was sure to be one of my last waterside morning vistas.
Ember’s parents had maintained a condo here since the late eighties, even after they moved to Connecticut to send Ember to high school. They’d offered to have Bo and Ember move in with them, but Ember had gone on and on during late night drinking sessions about boundaries. Before she wavered, though, they were able to find a bungalow to sublet for six months a few houses down from her parents.
Relaxed boundaries, then.
Bo entered the kitchen and set his coffee mug in the sink before he put his hand on my shoulder for a second. “Any time, man. You know that.” He gave it a slight squeeze before picking up a box labeled Sandals.
“A whole box?” I raised my eyebrows, eyeing him over my steaming mug of motivation.
He shrugged. “I ... guess...” He chuckled, so did I.
Little things like that were starting to come more naturally again. Laughing.
“You boys find something funny?” Ember sauntered into the kitchen looking more ready for the day than I’d ever looked any day of my life.
Her long auburn hair was tied back, and she wore short denim shorts and a green tank top. She was gorgeous by any standard but didn’t flaunt it. I’d met her when she was in the middle of an emotional mess after her breakup with Bo. I still wasn’t clear on all the details from when they met to when they broke up, but I didn’t think I needed them.
I wasn’t the one sleeping with her, so I figured it was safe for me to push the teasing a little. “You can only wear one pair at a time, Ember. Why do you need so many?”
“San Diego.” She arched her eyebrow and fished through another box, producing a pair of kitchen shears.
“Huh?”
“We’re in San Diego, Regan. It’s sunny three hundred days a year.” That was the only answer she felt she needed to offer. She gave Bo a quick kiss before running the scissors along the seam of the box as he held it.
She was right. It was San Diego, and I hoped that this place held more answers than why Ember needed twenty-five pairs of sandal
s. Just after I’d come back from Ireland, Ember sent her mother some audio and video recordings of me playing, without telling me. I would have resisted had she suggested it, but I’m glad she did. Her parents wanted me immediately and called me themselves to ask that I consider coming out with Bo and Ember to record in January. I was still jobless, but with a nice cushion in my bank account from when I’d taught in Ireland the year before, so I had nothing to lose.
“Here they are.” Ember exhaled in near-relief as she lifted a pair of gold sandals out of the box and slid them onto her feet.
Bo cleared his throat, seeming to stifle a laugh. “Ember, I told your dad I’d meet him at the studio this morning to help him set up that new equipment. You two all right here?”
“Of course, tell Dad I’ll be by around lunchtime.” Ember rose up on her toes as Bo slid his arms around her waist and rested his hands on the small of her back. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Bo whispered as he kissed her.
I turned quietly on my heels and snuck out the back door onto the cool sand. No matter what room I left, or what country or state I entered, she was there.
Rae Cavanaugh.
Bo’s younger sister, and my girlfriend, who had died tragically the summer before. We were together for less time than she’d been gone, but her death overrode all internal sense of time. Seeing that horse buck her from its body and watching her lay lifeless on the ground changed my internal makeup.
Her death stuck to me like thick, cold mud, dried under the hottest sun I’d ever felt. It tugged at my skin, ripping the hair from my arms one at a time before I could brush the dust free. Dust. One day, seemingly just like that, I was able to stand up and brush it all off like dust.
Still, when I looked across the room into Ember’s eyes, or watched Bo bow his head slightly before each time he played his guitar, she was there. She was there when I bailed after the funeral and escaped to Ireland for three months, ditching the closest friends I’d had in years. Rae was there, snuggled amongst the ruins of centuries old castles on the edges of family farms, and she was there in the quiet moments before I drifted to sleep. She was in my dreams.
Dust lingers, and I was desperate to wash it clean, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know if I could, but I had to try.
“Hey, you okay out here?” Ember quietly slid the screen door open and met me in the adjoining Adirondack chair.
I nodded. “Of course.”
“You know, Bo found a great therapist here. If you want to set—”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “It’s okay, Ember. Really.”
“Ireland isn’t therapy, Regan.” I could tell she rolled her eyes without even looking at her.
“Says the girl who’s never been there. Anyway, I’ll be fine. CJ’s plane lands in a couple of hours, and he and I will be exploring some while I apartment hunt. That way I can get out of your hair and let you and Bo play house.” I tried to smirk but couldn’t when I looked at her.
Ember’s eyes softened in a way only hers could. Just barely. Just enough. “No rush, you know. You’re welcome here any time. All the time.”
My sister was several years older than me, and I didn’t spend a lot of time with her growing up. While Ember and I never directly talked about it, it was like we’d adopted each other as brother and sister. I knew she was worried about me because I didn’t talk much about Rae, but there wasn’t much I felt I needed to say. I just needed to get settled in my own apartment, get playing with the band, and the rest would take care of itself. I needed to push through this.
Just a little longer and I’d be okay.
“How long is CJ planning on staying, anyway?” Ember’s nose scrunched a little as she formed her question.
“Ha, don’t worry, Em, I won’t let him touch your things.”
“Mmm.” Ember arched her eyebrow as she took a sip of her coffee. “Thank you. Okay, love, I’m out to run some errands, then I’ll be at the studio the rest of the day.”
“You have fun, and I’ll try to make sure CJ is in bed with a dose of penicillin by the time you guys get home.”
Ember choked on her coffee as she laughed. “This. This is why I love you. Later.”
“Later.”
A couple of hours later I was waiting in San Diego International Airport. CJ had, in true CJ fashion, invited himself out for a visit. I’d only been in San Diego for about a week, and was still looking for my own place to live, but he said it was too cold in the Cape to wait for me to get my act together.
“Hey, asshole!”
And, there he was.
CJ’s movements didn’t match his looks as he brightly bounced toward me. He was clearly hung over, his usually-gelled hair sticking straight out on all sides, making him look like Animal from The Muppets.
Okay, maybe his movements perfectly matched his personality.
“What up, cuz?” I high-fived him, pulling him into a half-hug.
Even though he was a couple of years younger than me, my mother had always demanded that I play with him, given he was an only child and my sister was out of the house most of the time. I looked after him for as long as I needed to, but once high school came, and we went to different schools, he no longer needed me. While I was always taller, he doubled in size across his shoulders and in every muscle of his body. CJ could take plenty good care of himself and was able to find many girls who could take care of what he couldn’t.
“Let’s get this party started, bro. It’s cold as balls back home, man. God, it’s gorgeous here! You lucky fuckin’ bastard. What’s up first?” With his ADHD in full effect, CJ bounced beside me as we walked to my car.
“How’s the band been going?” I asked a few minutes into our drive.
“Slow right now, our next big show will be St. Patrick’s Day.” CJ’s hands rapped lightly against the dashboard as he looked out the window. “So, where are we going?”
“We’re going to head down to South Park, I think. I’ve heard great things about the neighborhood, and it seems affordable.”
“Oh no shit! E’s Tavern is in South Park. We have to go there.” His drumming got louder as he smiled.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “What’s so special about E’s?”
“Well, for one, they’ve got live music. Stage, open mic nights, everything. You could play there when you’re not recording. But, most importantly,” he stopped his drumming and arched an eyebrow, “Georgia’s there.”
Of course.
I couldn’t help but laugh when he flicked his tongue ring against his teeth as he wiggled his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know?”
Probably not.
“Oh,” he returned his attention to the road, and his fingers to the beat, “you’ll know.”
“What’d you run out of women on the East Coast who bought your shit, so you had to outsource?” I’d always wondered how he avoided sleeping with the same girl twice.
CJ’s face crinkled a bit. “Fuck no, dude. I’ve never slept with her. It’s ... Georgia.”
“Surprisingly, CJ, I don’t follow your logic. Georgia is female, yes?” I watched him grin as I sipped from my water bottle.
“Yeah, but it’s not like that. We went to high school together until senior year when her dad pulled her out of school and moved her here. He used to own that bar in Provincetown we played at in high school. Dunes, remember?”
I nodded. Dunes was kind of a dive bar, but it was the only one that let us play on weekends when we were teenagers. I had no recollection of Georgia, though I did have a clear memory of the owner of the place, and it wasn’t a pretty one. He was kind of straggly with your standard town-drunk demeanor. The fact that he had children at all was concerning on a number of levels.
“Anyway,” CJ continued, “we stayed friends after she moved, and...”
I cut him off as I spit out my water. “I’m sorry,” I coughed, “what the hell did you just say? Friends? And a girl? In the same sentence?”
“Okay, okay, no need to get your panties in a bunch. We’ll go to E’s to meet your friend.” My air-quotes around the last word was a little too much and earned me a punch in the arm.
E’s Tavern was on Ash Street, and from the outside looked as much like a grocery store as a bar. The bright-blue painted wood exterior had me fearing I’d end up in the middle of a happy hour for senior citizens. Reminding myself that I was in the middle of South Park quelled my fears. I’d heard from a lot of friends around the country that this hip area of San Diego was where I’d want to make a home for myself. Checking out the wildly painted bungalows all around me, and hearing the saxophonist playing on the corner, I’d say they were right.
“We can’t stay here for too long, Ceej. I still need to find a place to live.” I slammed my door shut and shoved my hands into my jeans’ pockets.
“Relax, dude. We’ll have a drink or two, I’ll catch up with Georgia, and we’ll go.” He held the door open as if he’d been there a thousand times before.
Stepping in, I was indeed relieved. E’s was a spacious tavern with lots of dark wood. Tables and mismatched chairs painted different colors scattered the floor and a sizable bar wrapped around two sides of the interior. It was a Saturday, but it was only late afternoon, and the place was pretty busy. That was a good sign, and once I spotted the large square stage in the far corner, I took that as a really good sign. South Park just might be my neighborhood after all.
Halfway on our walk up to the bar, I stopped dead in my tracks. CJ was right. I knew her when I saw her. Georgia. Not because I recognized her from somewhere, but because all the energy from the bar orbited around her. CJ’s face lit up a second before the short girl with bleach blonde hair tied up in a red bandana looked up from pouring a drink, and shrieked.
“CJ!”
“G!” The smile on CJ’s face was more honest than I’d ever seen him look. It went all the way to his eyes, and he didn’t even stick out his tongue ring.
Sweet Forty-Two Page 1