Beautiful Dark

by Jordyn White

  To one side is a set of portable risers where all the professors are sitting. On the other side, is the orchestra and choir. Hartman boasts a nationally-recognized conservatory, so the music we’ll hear today will be stellar. In front of the stage are row after row of chairs, stretching almost all the way to the end of the quad, with an aisle down the middle. The first several of these are filled with those of us who are graduating, and all of our guests are in the rows behind that. Somewhere back there are my parents and stepparents, my grandparents, my cousins, Mason, and, shockingly, Mason’s mother. I could not have asked for a more perfect graduation gift.

  We’re all in alphabetical order, but my friend, Hailey, is in the row in front of me, and two over. As the program advances through remarks, speakers, and musical numbers, we keep grinning at one another. We got together last night with some other friends and partied for the last time. Tomorrow she flies to Iowa, where she’ll be getting her master’s degree in finance. I’ll miss her, but I’ve said goodbye to so many people over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at it, and this time I’m the one graduating.

  Finally we get to the part we’ve all been waiting for. One of the Deans calls out the names, and Dean Jennings hands us the padded diploma folder as we walk across the stage, one at a time. He shakes each person’s hand, but he’s been known on rare occasions to offer certain students a different sort of farewell. It turns out, I’m one of them, and when he gives me a hug and tells me he’s proud of me, I grin back at him like an idiot.

  “I did it!” I lift my shoulders and raise my eyebrows, and he laughs.

  “Yes, you did. I can’t wait to see what you do next.”

  Everyone’s been asking for months what I’m going to do after graduation. I’ve been so focused on just graduating, whether I was going to need to go back into treatment or not, that it was fine to just sort of put everybody off. But now that graduation is finally over, I feel a little untethered. I keep thinking, Now what?

  But life is sort of going along. I finally have a permanent, full-time job at the resort, working the concierge desk. In spite of being related to the owners, I’m still low man on the totem pole, so I work odd hours. I tend to work evenings, so it interferes with Mason time, but at least I get most weekends off.

  Mason and I spend as much time together as we can. We see my cousins plenty, too. On the weekends, we often spend time at the resort taking advantage of all it has to offer. We’ve practically made a routine of Sunday afternoon brunch at the resort’s poolside restaurant, the Sandbar, followed by a few hours floating the lazy river. We freaking loooove that lazy river, man.

  Lizzy has told me more than once I can take my time figuring out where I want to live, but I feel like I need to get out of that old house of hers so she can finally sell it. She’s hung on to that thing for a year-and-a-half now, thanks to various indecisive family members. That’s plenty long enough.

  I don’t really know where to go, though, and I keep putting off looking for an apartment. My cousin’s keep talking like they assume I’m going to buy a place, instead of rent like I’ve been thinking. I guess because they know how much money I inherited and figure I have plenty. But aside from a house, honestly, being a waste of my resources, it would only be another complication later, so when the solution to my housing problem comes in an unexpected manner, I jump on it.

  On the first of July, I get an email from the trust’s lawyer, George Hollister, with an update on the apartments I inherited, which is somewhat routine. However, I notice someone’s put in their thirty-day notice and there’s going to be a vacancy at the end of the month. I call his office, and set an appointment to see him.

  A few days later I meet with him shortly before my shift. Afterward, since it’s not far, I’ll stop by and see Mason on my way to work. I love stopping in there. Everyone’s really nice, and it’s fun to see what he’s working on. He’ll talk my ear off about it, telling me all about stuff I honestly don’t understand, but it’s so fun to see him get excited like that. I may even be there in time to join him for his lunch walk.

  When I sit in the chair across from George’s desk, he greets me warmly as he always does. He’s an old friend of the family, and knew my Uncle Grant back when they were my age. After a bit of chit chat, and him congratulating me on my recent graduation, he says, “What can I help you with today?”

  I meet with him once every few months to go over things related to my inheritance, which is still under the umbrella of the trust since I’m underage, and I’m several weeks early for our regular meeting.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the apartments.”

  “All right.”

  “You said there’s going to be a vacancy there?”

  This isn’t the first time that apartment has had a vacancy since I inherited it. It’s happened once or twice in the last year-and-a-half, but I never really paid attention to them before. “Yes. But you don’t need to worry. The management company will find new renters.”

  “Right, I understand. But I was wondering if I might be able to live there.”

  “You want to live there?”

  I nod.

  “Why?”

  “Well, now that I graduated, I need a full-time place here in Swan Pointe. I can’t keep staying at Lizzy’s old house.”

  “Well, that’s true. But wouldn’t you rather have a house? You know, I wouldn’t have any problem approving funds for a reasonable purchase. I think that’d be appropriate. I mean, you’re not wanting a yacht like your cousin, are you?” he says with a wink.

  I laugh. “No, I’m staying here. I’m working full-time at the resort now. I get to be a concierge.”

  He nods.

  “And I have a boyfriend.”

  “Very good. Will you stay at the resort while you’re doing your online classes?” He knows about this because the last time we met he asked me what I plan to do after graduation, like everyone else on the planet, so I gave him the same answer I give Mason and everyone else. “Yes, I still need to get signed up.”

  “Well, don’t worry about funds. You have plenty. You haven’t spent hardly anything. You could probably afford a nice single-family home something in the range of—”

  I cut him off. “No. No, thank you. The apartment will be fine.” They’re nice apartments, most of them three bedrooms, and well kept. My Uncle Grant didn’t invest in slums. I’d be perfectly comfortable there.

  George is giving me a searching look. This guy’s sharp as a tack, too, so the last thing I need is for him to go probing. “Why do you want to live in an apartment?”

  I shuffle a bit in my seat, then lift my chin and look right back at him. “Does the trust require that they all be rented out so they’re preserved as an investment? Because if so, I can find an apartment elsewhere. That’s not a problem.”

  “No.” He gives me a look that makes me suspect he knows I just avoided answering his question. “It’s yours, and if you want to live there, that’s fine. I’m just not sure I understand your reasoning.”

  I shrug. “I just think that will work better for me. For now.”

  He looks at me for a moment, then raises his hands slightly, as if to say whatever makes you happy. “I can let the property management company know. Is it all right if they get in touch with you directly to arrange a move-in date, and keys, and so forth?”

  “Yes, that’d be great. Thank you.”

  I’m relieved that I finally have a plan in place that will get me out of Lizzy’s hair, but I’m feeling inclined to keep it to myself for now. When I stop by to see Mason, I don’t mention it. He’ll want to know my reasons, and probably won’t let go of it as quickly as George Hollister did. I’m not telling my cousins either, since I know they’ll want to argue with me as well.

  But I know what I’m doing. They can think what they want, but it’s for everyone’s sake that I’m keeping things low risk.

  It has crossed my mind that the doctors could be right this time. It has b
een two and a half years. But I’ve had the rug pulled out from underneath me before, and I guess I don’t believe it. Not really.

  Chapter 29

  Mason

  It’s late afternoon on the Fourth of July, and we’re making the most of Corrine’s evening off. Since the resort has a big celebration tonight, including a firework show she’s promised will be spectacular, we decided to come early and play. It’s no surprise we ended up in the lazy river.

  “This is almost better than lying on the beach,” she says, languidly, her arms crossed over the edge of the big black inner tube, her chin resting on her hands. Her body is through the center of the tube, just as my body is through the center of mine, and I can see her legs and the orange bottom of her bikini through the wavy water.

  “Nothing’s better than lying on the beach.” I smile and rest my chin on my arms, too. Our fingers are loosely laced together in the small space between us.

  “Nothing,” she says with a mischievous smile. “What about working on cars?”

  “Well, that.” I grin.

  “What about working on me?” she says lowly.

  I laugh and curl my fingers tighter around hers, bringing her inner tube a little closer. We lift our chins together and give each other a kiss.

  “You shouldn’t talk like that with so many youngsters around,” I say, referring to the kids and teens floating around the river with us. There’s the occasional parent in the mix, but the kids pretty much ignore all the adults, and Corrine and I are content to ignore them, too. Every now and then someone gets rowdy and gets our attention, but for the most part, we’re the only two people out here.

  “You mean I shouldn’t talk about how I like to go down on your—”

  I kiss her quickly as a means of shutting her up and we both laugh.

  “You’re so naughty,” I say, bopping her nose to get even.

  She scowls good-naturedly and I laugh again.

  I love this girl so much. I can’t imagine anyone else ever taking her place.

  I’ve considered the issue of her living situation over there at Lizzy’s, and mine in my parents’ old house, and realized the solution to both problems is the same. We each need a different place, a new place, but we need to be in that place together. We’ve gone long enough keeping up pretenses. We’re together so much, and sleep with one another damn near every night anyway, we may as well make it official.

  But it’s more than the convenience of logistics. I want to. I know it’s a big step, but it doesn’t feel like that with her. It feels natural. Right. And I’m going to talk to her about it soon.

  Looking at her now, her blue eyes glittering with the reflections on the water, I know that I want her to be in my arms every night and every morning, in a bed that we own together.

  I bring her in for another kiss, overwhelmed with love for her, and encouraged by the love for me I see in her eyes.

  Corrine

  When the sun sets and we start losing our light, we climb out of the water and dry off a bit. I have my big beach bag here with our stuff, and we throw on some clothes. A dry t-shirt for him and a thigh-length cover-up for me, then we sit at the poolside bar so we can continue to dry out and chat as dusk turns to evening.

  Once we’re ready for dinner, we head to Lizzy’s office where she’s let us stash the rest of our stuff. Though we’re keeping things casual tonight, we still had to come prepared if we wanted to be able to hang here all day without having to go back and forth to the house to get ready.

  Lizzy’s heard about our sexual escapades and made me swear we wouldn’t do it in her office, so all we do is change into clothes suitable for a casual dinner and I fix my hair and put on some gloss. He puts his phone, keys, and wallet in his jeans pocket like normal, but I opt to just take my phone and come back for my bag before we head home.

  After dinner, we still have a bit of time to kill, so as people start to gather on the rear of the grounds, closer to the golf course, we go for a stroll around the building.

  It’s dark, and as we circle around the west wing, the grounds are nearly void of people. The second-floor grand balcony is up ahead, and we seem to remember our first night together at the same time, because we both look at one another with not-so-guilty expressions and laugh.

  We won’t be having a repeat performance tonight, though, since there’s a couple of people over by the tables. Instead we wander past and go toward the edge of the bluff where there’s a low, brick wall to keep people from going too far.

  We stop and look out at the ocean, arm in arm. The moon is out, so it’s all glittery on top of the deep dark of the water.

  “This has been the perfect day,” Mason says.

  I smile up at him as he brings me into his arms. “It has. And it’s not even over yet.” He’s gonna love those fireworks.

  “Hey.” He rubs my jaw lightly with his fingertips. “I have an idea.”

  “Okay.” I give him a gentle squeeze.

  “How about we scratch something else off your bucket list?”

  I grin. “I love scratching things off my bucket list.”

  He laughs softly. “I know you do. You have this weekend off? Right?”

  I nod. “How about we finally do that road trip we’ve been talking about?”

  “Oh my god, yes!” I lean into him and he laughs again.

  “I checked the forecast, and it looks good. We could go up the coast as far as we can, find a place to stay, then drive back the next day.”

  “On your Harley, right?” I ask excitedly.

  He’s grinning at me, looking so pleased with himself. “You like that idea?”

  “I love it!”

  He cups my face in his hands and gives me a kiss. We pull back for a moment, then he brings me in again. This one turns into something soft, and lingering. It’s the kind of kiss that’s so slow and so tender it brings my heart right into his, like we’re making love. I practically melt against his chest. I love it when he kisses me like this.

  When he pulls away, he keeps my face in his hands. “I want to tell you something,” he whispers.

  “Okay,” I whisper back, still in the afterglow of his kiss.

  “I’ve decided to find a new place.”

  “You have?”

  He nods. “I’ve tried, but I don’t want to stay there anymore. I want to look for a new place, and I want you to look with me.”

  “Okay,” I whisper again, though I’m a little confused by his meaning, because it sounds like he just wants help picking a place out, and why wouldn’t I help? We do everything together anyway. But it feels like he’s asking something bigger than that, and I have a funny feeling about it.

  He must see I need clarity. He caresses my cheek again and says, “I want us to live together.”

  I don’t move. I don’t breathe. Live together? Why is he saying that? Why on earth would he suggest that, unless...

  “I’m tired of being apart from the woman I love.”

  The word echoes around in my brain.

  Love.

  Not my love for him, which has been resonating inside of me for months. No. His love for me.

  Wait, wait, wait. No, no, no.

  He can’t do this. My hands grip the material of his shirt, below his shoulder blades. This would be bad. So bad. He’d be stuck with me then. No. I mean, if I were at the five year mark, then hell yes, but I’m so fucking far from that so, hell no.

  My thoughts must be registering on my face, because his smile slowly fades as he watches me. In fact, he gets a look on his face I’ve never seen before. His grip on me slowly loosens, and we pull out of each other’s arms.

  I know I need to stop staring at him like this, but fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t hardly think what to do. What have I done? How have I let him get this deep in with me?

  “I—” I don’t know what to say. This cannot happen. We absolutely cannot do this.

  “You can think about it,” he says uncertainly.

  “No,
” I blurt out, not meaning to make it sound that way and my heart clenching as I watch him flinch. Okay, fuck. I need to calm down and be more gentle about this, but he shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts like this. I have to stop this train of thought before it goes any further.

  “I mean, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You don’t want to think about it.” He says it as a statement, not a question. He’s hurt. Shit, he’s hurt and it’s my fault.

  I try really hard to sound more normal and not be in such a fucking panic. “No. I mean, I appreciate the offer, but—”

  “The offer? I’m not offering you a car, I just asked you to move in with me.”

  Fuck, I’ve really hurt him. I see it all over his face. He looks like he’s trying to keep it together though, so I force myself to take a steadying breath so I can reassure him.

  I run my hand through my hair and try to smile. I’m still reeling. “I know, thank you. It’s sweet, but I don’t think it’s a good time.” No, scratch that! That sounds like there might be a good time later, like a few months down the road or something, but I can’t lead him to believe this is an option we can keep discussing. He needs to get this idea out of his head. “I mean, I don’t think it’d be a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  Dammit. I cannot get my brain wrapped around this and the fact that he’s so clearly hurt and actually starting to get angry is freaking me out even more. I just need to calm this whole thing down so we can go back to normal.

  But I don’t know what to say.

  “It’s just, I mean I’d love to, but...” But what? I’m stumbling all over my words. “I...”

  It’s not fair that he’s looking at me like this. I mean, this came out of nowhere. He loves me? He wants me to move in with him? No, we’re supposed to be just dating and having moments. I can fall in love with him, but he’s not supposed to fall in love with me.