Breaking Everly

by Jessop, K. L

  The wooden pier seems to be new but the flowers are just as vibrant down here as they were up on the hill. I’ve missed this place.

  “Can I get you anything, Miss?” the old man asks, making me jump out of my skin. He chuckles. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s ok, and no thank you. I’m fine.”

  His rugged-looking face studies me for a moment as his white wispy hair blows in the breeze. “I’ve never had anyone come to my café and not order anything. And considering you are sitting on my bench, you’re obliged to order.”

  His words make me realise I’ve not brought anything with me. Not even my phone. “I haven’t got any money on me.”

  “Then I suggest you leave.” He stares at me, and for a man who hadn’t unnerved me just before, he rapidly changes my opinion of him. It seems people aren’t as friendly as they used to be around here.

  I stand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  His walking stick comes out to stop me from moving as his deep laugh rumbles from him. “Sit down, girl. This old fool is just messing with you.” He takes a seat on the opposite side of the bench and I just stand, watching him, trying to work him out but finding myself sitting back down anyway once he looks at me and nods down at the seat.

  “I’m Mac. You look new around here. What brings you to Keswick?”

  “I’m not new. Well not really. I lived here years ago and have come back for a while as my dad passed away recently.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s never easy losing someone you love. I had my fair share of heartbreak when my wife died. Beautiful woman she was. Such a ray of sunshine on a dull day.” He shakes his head a little and looks out over the water. “I miss her more each day.”

  Mac’s eyes sparkle as he talks about his wife, and within seconds, I want to know more about the two of them and everything that made that sparkle still twinkle even after her passing.

  “I can already tell she was the love of your life.”

  He turns back to me; his eyes soften and his skin glows as a smile grows across his face as if the years they spent together now play in his mind like a photographic film. “She was my world. You only get that once in a lifetime you know? That one person that fills your life with so much joy and love it takes your breath away every day. I knew my Mary did. Our love was like no other and when that happens, you need to hold on to it for as long as possible.”

  Now it’s my turn to look over the water as his words hit hard. I had that. I had my everything and it was brutally taken away from me with continuous threats and blistering pain because his vile step-brother didn’t like what we had.

  “What if you can’t?” I ask unexpectedly. “What if you have to let it go even if you don’t want to?”

  “Then you follow your heart and if it’s still drawing you back to that one person, you need to ask yourself why.”

  I’ve been asking myself that question for years every time my thoughts go back to Adam or I see him in my dreams. Even when I was living in Milford Haven, I still felt like he was with me every day.

  “I never got your name,” Mac says softly. “I need a name for this beautiful woman that sits before me.”

  I grin. “I’m Everly.”

  His eyes widen a little as if my name surprises him. “Everly. Well I’ll be.”

  I’m just about to ask him if he knew my dad when a voice catches my attention and goosebumps glaze over my skin. Turning my head, I see Adam at the top of the pier with a few other people. They all have cameras, including Adam, and I watch him inquisitively. As he talks to the small group, he points out over the water and the eyes of the group follow his line of sight. I want to look out to where he’s pointing to see what is of interest, but my eyes won't leave him. Everything about him is perfect, and the way he’s teaching them makes my heart swell with pride. Mum and Dad had said that he’d gone into teaching, and I can only imagine that this is what he’s doing now.

  “He loves his job.”

  I jump once again at the sound of Mac’s voice, completely forgetting he is still here and wondering if he’s been watching me watch Adam all this time. And, as if Adam himself feels my presence, he turns in my direction and our eyes lock instantly. My heart races as an unfamiliar feeling stirs in my stomach with its impact, making me question why it’s even happening at all. It shouldn’t be happening and I need it to stop because the longer his eyes hold mine, the more this sensation inside of me increases. It burns through me, awakening every nerve ending in my body to the point where I have to stand in order to try and escape it. Hoping I can escape it.

  “Nice to meet you, Mac.”

  14

  Adam

  I feel her eyes on me before I even turn in her direction. The way my body instantly becomes a hot flame when I reach the pier, I know she is close. That girl has consumed my mind so many times over the years, but these past few days I’ve been drowning in memories of her and the flashbacks of her crying into her mother’s arms. The fact that it’s bothering me seeing her that way has really got to me. She doesn’t deserve anything from me and I shouldn’t have felt guilty for upsetting her, but I did. I still do.

  I’ve never been one for intentionally upsetting people but standing in front of her at her parents’ house, something inside of me didn’t care. Maybe it was shock at seeing her again. Maybe it was anger at having her come back—I don’t know. But what I do know is, I don’t think I would have stopped pushing her if she hadn’t have broken down on me, and that’s the arsehole part of me I don’t like.

  And after all of those feelings have simmered, I’m now blasted with new ones because of the way she is looking at me. Her big, chestnut eyes lock with mine like she doesn’t want to let go, and I don’t want her to because I’m taken back to the first time I laid eyes on her when she walked into that art class when we were kids.

  I try to resist the temptation to ditch the small group of students I tutor on a weekend to go straight to her because I don’t want her to know the effect she has on me, even after all this time. However, as her eyes hold mine, I start to see panic creep over her like she is doing wrong, and, losing all self-control, I call it a day with the class and move towards her when she gets up from the bench and leaves.

  I nod to Mac as I jog past him to catch up with her. The look on his face tells me he’s connected the pieces together, but all I care about right now is stopping her from running out on me again. “Everly, wait.”

  She stops abruptly and turns, her voice low. “Sorry, I wasn't… I wasn't spying. I was just…”

  “Watching me?” I can’t help but joke, but her only response is to lower her head as her cheeks turn pink. She’s once again dressed in clothes that hide her body and with a stance that suggests she’s feeling even more uncomfortable than I am right now. But at least she hasn’t completely run out on me, so that’s progress.

  “I see you’ve met my friend Mac?” I say, wanting to keep a conversation going and have her here a little longer.

  She looks up at me but her eyes drift over my shoulder to the old man down by the lake. A soft smile graces her lips ever so quickly. “His life with his late wife sounds like a fairy tale.”

  I grin. “He went straight in there with that story, huh? He’s such a flirt.”

  “He seems nice.”

  “He is. He’s sure told me a tale or two over the years.”

  “How did you get to know him?”

  It shouldn’t irritate me that she’s asking questions about my life when she has so many to answer of her own, but it does. However, I’m not going to tiptoe around her just because she’s lost her dad, so I speak with honesty. “He was there for me at a time when I needed someone to hold me together because you had left.”

  Her eyes spring back to mine and I can’t read them. There was once a time when I could, but now I get nothing but a blank stare as her jaw tightens—a sign that she’s fighting her emotions. Then, like I’m being reminded by him fro
m way above the clouds, Mr Braithwaite’s words play in my mind and I soften my tone. “What are you doing here, Everly?”

  She frowns. “You know why I’m here. I came back be—”

  “I mean here, now, today. What are you doing at the lake?”

  She focuses on her shoe that’s digging the dusty ground, and I almost think I’ve lost her until she says quietly. “Mum has the ladies from church around arranging things for Tuesday, and I couldn't be doing with all that 'everything will be ok' stuff any longer. I came for a walk and ended up here.”

  I can’t imagine how she must be feeling, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and comfort her. Looking around the space between us, I try to find a way of keeping her within reach but at the same time to escape from the prying eyes of Mac—eyes I can feel burning into the back of my head. “Can I walk with you for a bit?”

  She hesitates a moment before nodding. “Sure.”

  We walk down the dusty side-track next to the lake that leads us back towards town. The silence between us is deathly; the effect she’s beginning to have on me is confusing. It’s like I’m walking beside a stranger, and in many ways, she is, but it shouldn’t be like this. She shouldn’t be walking with her head down and with enough distance between us that suggests she’s afraid of me. We were never like this. We were always talking, always planning, always laughing together, touching each other. Now there’s nothing but a cold, weighted wall that I want to knock down to see if my Everly is on the other side.

  “Everly, I'm sorry for the way I behaved the other day. It was wrong of me to say those things when you’re feeling the way you are at the moment.”

  “That's ok.”

  “No, it’s not. But that doesn't mean I don't need answers.”

  She doesn’t reply and somehow, I know she won’t because she changes the subject immediately. “My mum said you teach?”

  “Yeah. I’m a part time photography teacher at the local college.”

  “I didn’t know you wanted to do that.”

  “Neither did I, but I liked helping people out at uni so when the college asked for some help, I took up their offer. The days I don’t teach I’m out with my camera.” I pause. “What about you?” I ask, wanting to suddenly know ten years’ worth of information. “What are you doing now?”

  “I paint. Abstract mainly.”

  “So, you finally found your area of creativity then, huh?” I remember how frustrated she would get when the teacher used to pounce in, making decisions about her future and what line of art she would be taking. She used to get mad with herself, too, for not knowing. I guess that’s why she experimented in every genre she could. I’d often find random pictures on my camera—ones she had secretly taken. I’d regularly find drawings in the cabin of the boats on the lake from the times she’d wanted to do something creative while we spent time there. She’d occasionally bring home marble or mosaic tiles that she’d created in her spare time because she was bored and then questioned why she’d done them because the process hadn’t brought her any enjoyment and she’d wonder why people did it for hours. I guess there and then it was a foregone conclusion that area of art was never going to be her forte.

  “I guess so. Anita helps organise me while I work.”

  I frown, thinking of the woman I saw her with the other day. “She’s the one I saw you with?”

  “Yeah. I live with her in…” she shrugs. “We’ve lived together for years.”

  I’m looking right at her, and I know she can feel me watching because those damn cheeks of hers have changed colour, only this time it’s not embarrassment she’s feeling: it’s shame. And she should feel shame. She’s not going to tell me where she’s living. That fucking hurts. Am I really that bad a person that she can’t tell me? We finally make it back into the town and I couldn’t be more thankful. I can’t keep walking beside her when I’m having to hold back on what I say due to her fragile state of mind. Not only that, this tension between us is beginning to drive me fucking crazy. I don’t know who is more uptight, her or me, but all I know is, I need a drink.

  “Look, I’m going to head off now.”

  Her eyes hold mine for a second before she looks to the ground and nods with a whisper. “Okay.”

  The sadness in her voice is clear but I can’t let that bother me. I need space and a chance for my contradictive mind to gain some form of control. I know alcohol is not the answer, but it’s the only thing that’s looking damn good right now. “I’ll see you around.”

  Heading to the pub, I take my phone out the back pocket of my jeans and dial the number of the only person who truly knows my feelings when it comes to Everly. All the while, I can feel her penetrating stare on me the further I walk away.

  * * *

  The coolness of my beer soothes my raging insides as I sit out in the beer garden of the King’s Arms, Bailey now laid under the picnic table in the shade as I sit looking out towards the town and watching the people go by without a care in the world. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but the waitress has already cleared the table of glasses three times and my shoulders are heavy with the alcohol I’ve put in my system.

  “Now that you've seen her properly, how do you feel about her being back?” Mum asks, taking a sip of the wine she’s been nursing for too long. As soon as I called her, she dropped her afternoon plans and came straight down here with Bailey, and for the first thirty minutes we just sat in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable like it was with Everly. It was a silence that we both knew I needed.

  “Conflicted. I want to talk to her more, be around her. But at the same time, I want to yell at her and let her know how much she killed me, how she has made me feel all these years and demand those answers I know I won't get.”

  “Well, I would maybe hold off on demanding answers for a while. She's just lost her father.”

  “And how long do I wait, Mum? She couldn’t even bring herself to tell me where she's living now. That makes me feel like shit and makes me question why she's being so cagey.”

  “Ten years is a long time; things aren’t going to change overnight.”

  “She did!” I glare at her, banging my pint glass down on the table. “We were happy. We were going to get married and then it all when to fucking shit.”

  “Adam, I know you’re angry, but please watch your language; we’re in public.” She glares back at me just as hard with those stern green eyes she always gave me as a child whenever I was in trouble. Only now I very rarely see that emotion from her because she doesn’t like conflict. She’s changed so much over time; she’s become an elegant woman with a glow to her skin that I can’t remember ever seeing when she was with Sam and a sparkle back in her eye that disappeared for years.

  I back down at her request, blowing out a breath. “I’m sorry, Mum,” I sigh. “I’m just confused and hurt and—”

  “I know, son.” She smiles, placing her hand on my arm to give me comfort. “Adam, I’m not taking sides and I understand you have all these feelings rushing through you. It’s understandable because Everly was your first love—you two were made for each other. But—”

  “Clearly she didn’t think so.”

  “But look at it from her side for a moment. Coming back here isn’t going to be easy for her because if it was, she would have returned a long time before now. Not only has she returned, she’s lost a massive part of her life in the process.”

  “So you’re saying I should just forget everything?”

  She shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. But you need to understand that she has a massive amount of grief to contend with. And seeing you will only add to that.”

  I try to process her words and look at it from Everly’s side, but I’m clearly in no fit state to be thinking straight right now. Jesus, I’m in no fit state to be out in public right now either. Feeling the burden of my trouble has hit me hard now my veins are engulfed with alcohol, I decide to call it a day. Getting up from my seat, I gr
ab my phone and house keys and kiss my mum on the head. “I need to go home.”

  “I think that’s wise. Do you need me?”

  “No. I’ll be fine.”

  I whistle for Bailey to follow and make my way down the street to my cottage. People become a blur as I stagger past them. My mind roars with voices and images of Everly, our past, the present, the whole fucked up situation I’ve been drowning in for years. Then, like the man is haunting me from the heavens above, Mr Braithwaite’s words yet again play on my mind. “I promise you, son, you'll get your answers when the time is right.” I feel guilty because as I think back to our conversation and how he asked me to look out for his daughter, since her return, all I’ve done is raise my voice, made her cry and then left her alone when I couldn’t take any more.

  “Be patient with her. Don’t let the past ruin what’s ahead of you.”

  “That’s easier said than done Mr Braithwaite.” I say to my drunken self as I enter my house. Being patient is fucking difficult when she’s physically standing there in front of me, reminding me of everything I ever wanted and everything I’ve lost. Yet the fucked-up part of me knows that both him and my mum are right. This can’t be easy for her. Any of it. So, I guess I am going to have to swallow that bitter pill once more and wait. I’ve gone ten years, what’s a little longer?