Shattered Pearls

by Sidney Parker

  I slowly walked back toward the beach and my home. I needed to know if it was really Emily and I had my answer.

  My Emily was in La Jolla. I was able to look at her for a little while and I got to hear her laugh again. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for anything.

  I knew if I hung around too long I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from approaching her. By doing so I would also have to take the chance that the fantasies I’d held onto over the last seven years were exactly that, fantasies. For all I knew, Emily was happily married with a couple of kids by now, off on a girls’ weekend to escape her crazy home life.

  I wasn’t ready to face that yet. I needed more information. I needed to figure out where she was staying and with whom. I needed to work through this damn fear that made me stop myself from actually walking up to her and saying hello. What was the worst that could happen?

  I was a strong, successful man with women just begging to be with me. I could do this without pulling Emily into my arms and begging her to come back to me. Admit that I still loved her and dreamed of her every single day. I still had some willpower…

  Hell … when it came to Emily, I was a spineless sap with no willpower at all.

  I had to do something. I needed to convince myself that anything was possible. To be able to look into her eyes and know that she would look back.

  Maybe she would actually see me.

  Maybe she would think of me.

  Maybe she would remember.

  And maybe she still loved me too.

  I just needed a day or two to gather my courage once and for all.

  EMILY

  Maggie and I walked the three blocks into the village to grab some breakfast and do a little shopping. This was after a long, dissecting discussion on the balcony, over coffee, about Elliot. What if I ran into him again? What would I say? Did I actually want to run into Elliot? Did he still look as good as I remembered? Was I still in love with him?

  There were so many emotions running a marathon through my heart at the moment, I wasn’t sure what I would do or how I felt. To have actually seen him, from a distance, after all this time. Especially after I had been thinking about him so much lately.

  “It’s a sign,” Maggie kept insisting.

  I laughed at the thought nervously.

  “Don’t laugh. You’ve been working hard on changes within yourself, growing, and making better decisions so that you can have a healthy relationship with a man. Elliot is the one man you compare every guy to, and now look, here we are at the beach for a weekend, and who shows up? Elliot. It’s either a sign or he is your stalker,” she joked.

  My face drained of color as my mind began to race uncontrollably.

  “Oh my God! I forgot about the stalker. How the hell could I have done that? Even for a day?”

  I really had pushed it completely out of my mind. Twenty-four hours of not being afraid for a minute.

  “Wait, what if that isn’t a joke? I mean what are the odds of Elliot just being here?”

  “Emily!” Maggie grabbed my arm. “Take a breath, I was just kidding. Do you really think Elliot would be so cruel as to stalk you? Think about it for a minute. Would this man throw a rock at your house with bitch written on it? Would he terrorize you to gain your attention? If he would, he isn’t the same man you’ve been telling me about.”

  My breathing slowed down along with my heartbeat. I couldn’t imagine why I even started thinking like this. The Elliot I knew would never hurt anyone, at least the man he was back then wouldn’t. Maggie reached over and hugged me.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was only joking about suggesting Elliot could be your stalker. Bad joke.”

  “I must be more stressed about everything than I realize,” I told her. “For my mind to even go in that direction is nuts. You’re right. The Elliot I knew would never … it’s just seeing him after all this time and dealing with the crap back home. I think it’s starting to take its toll on me.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “More than I want to admit,” I answered.

  “I want to blow it off, but whoever is watching me is getting bolder. I’m trying not to let it get to me, but back home in Chandler, I don’t want to leave the house when I’m alone, and I’m constantly checking out the windows and looking around. Even with Lucky, I feel like I’m jumping out of my skin all the time. Here in La Jolla, I feel safe, but now that I know Elliot is somewhere, I’ll be watching for him. It’s crazy. I want to see him and talk to him, but at the same time, I’m scared to death. I feel like I’m falling apart and everything is all messed up.”

  This weekend was not turning out to be the relaxing weekend I envisioned.

  “Come on.” Maggie pushed back her deck chair and moved for the door. “Let’s go into town and get something to eat, do a little shopping. We can hash this all out this afternoon when Andrea gets back. I have a list of things to grab at the market for dinner tonight. The three of us can solve everything while we’re prepping. For now, throw all those crazy thoughts out the window for a few hours and have some girl time with me.”

  Grabbing my bag, I followed her out the door. She was right. I just needed to forget everything for a little while. No stalkers, no former lovers, no men at all. Just good old-fashioned girl time and some fun power shopping to boot.

  ELLIOT

  I sat down by the beach, in the cove … watching, hoping I would see her sooner or later. At first I walked around aimlessly, trying to find her. I checked out the joggers and the sunbathers, the groups of people running in and out of the water trying to dodge the waves. I even scanned the brave souls out there trying to navigate their surfboards. I remembered years ago I started teaching Emily. She tried … really tried. We went at it for hours and she swallowed so much saltwater. She didn’t give up until she was literally exhausted. She was so pissed off that she couldn’t master surfing in a few short days. I explained it took a lot of practice to learn to surf but she wouldn’t give up. She reminded me of a Pitbull puppy trying to fit an oversized bone through a small opening. Pure stubbornness. I assured her we had lots of time and she would get the hang of it.

  I wondered if she ever tried to surf again.

  Evening was approaching when I finally walked the path up to the street, the sun dipping lower to the west causing the shadows to grow longer behind the rocks. It was there I heard the sound of her laughter. I glanced up toward the cottages along the road, overlooking the ocean, and she was right there, her back to me, those wild curls blowing carelessly in the breeze, wine glass in her hand, one level up on a balcony. Her laughter sounded like a symphony. I wanted to pull up a chair and listen to her music. There were others laughing with her, two that I could see, but it was the sound of Emily’s voice calling out to me. I wanted to stand here forever, memorizing her song, but I was afraid of being seen and looking like a lovesick fool.

  I made my way back down to the rocks where I could sit and watch her without being seen. I wasn’t ready to risk rejection just yet. I was content to just watch her and dream. They seemed to be having a great time. I could smell the spicy aroma of the steaks they had on the grill, onion and garlic mixed with the scent of meat cooking. Sound traveled by the water so I caught bits and pieces of the conversation traveling back and forth between them. I wished I were sitting there enjoying the beautiful night, too. The sound of laughter made me feel even lonelier for Emily. The desire I had to hold her in my arms again was an ache that wouldn’t go away. It just kept growing the more I thought of her and the more I saw of her while I kept myself hidden.

  My mind kept drifting back seven years ago to a time before everything was so screwed up, before I screwed it up by walking away. I was such a boy, a scared, selfish child. I threw away the one person in my life I wanted more than anything. I didn’t think about how young Emily was or her past, her fear of love and commitment. I only thought about my needs and what I wasn’t getting from her. I’d learned patience since then. I’d n
eed it if I found the courage to pursue her. But this time, I wanted it to be the last time. I wanted this woman in my life until I was old and grey. I wanted to be able to wake up next to her for the next fifty years or more.

  My thoughts were interrupted abruptly as the sound of familiar laughter came closer. I glanced up in time to see three women in long sundresses making their way down to the beach, lifting their hemlines so they would not trip along the rocks that lined the pathway. It was all I could do to stop myself from jumping up to help them.

  I watched as they navigated around the rocks, assisting one another and stepping to the edge of the ocean.

  Taking each other’s hands, they let out a shout and ran into the water screaming and splashing like excited children experiencing the water for the first time. Emily held her hair on top of her head as she turned her body in circles, dancing with the waves, the water soaking her dress. The wet fabric clung to her body, molding to her, enveloping her like the caress of a lover. I wanted to be that lover.

  It took every ounce of restraint I possessed not to go to her, my need growing and my patience evaporating. Yet I was reluctant to break the spell of the vision right in front of me.

  A story began to come to life in my mind as I watched Emily and her friends play in the water, a much different kind of story than my usual mystery of savagery and death. This one, a story of friendship and the strength gained from it, a love story with a perfect ending. The ending that I wanted with Emily.

  As scenes danced around in my head, I scrambled up, shaking off the sand from my legs. I needed to write it down, create a written photograph so I wouldn’t forget anything scrolling through my mind. I knew where she was staying and I knew she was with her girlfriends. It eased the jealousy that had reared up earlier. I could come back later and hopefully by then, I would have the courage to approach her, to say hello.

  I turned back to look at Emily one last time before I ran home. They were standing there in the surf, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, clothes soaking wet, watching the sun dip low on the horizon. Emily was in the middle, her long curly hair blowing back over her shoulders, her head lifted upward, the breeze in her face. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life. These three women had a peace about them I wanted. They didn’t care who was watching them. They seemed to embrace life, live it, and thoroughly enjoy every moment of it. They appeared confident and strong, but most importantly, they appeared happy.

  I made my way back home and went to my computer as soon as I came through the door. I stayed there until the early hours of the morning, my fingers never ceasing their dance upon the keyboard. The story was coming to me almost faster than I could get it down. I took a few breaks, walking out onto the deck to stare at the waves making their way into land. It was pitch black outside; even the stars were asleep. A few stray beams of light along the pathways gave glimpses of the white froth on top of the waves as they moved. It was quiet except for the sound of the surf crashing along the beach and the occasional moan of a restless sea lion slumbering on the beach.

  I finally fell asleep close to dawn, accomplishing more in this new story than in the one I’d worked on for months.

  I just needed a few hours of rest before I went to see Emily. My courage grew along with my word count. This time I was going to approach her. I really was. I needed to.

  EMILY

  I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to return to my reality or that damned stalking business.

  I was starting to actually like life for a change … it was the turmoil I hated returning to: the fear of the unknown, of looking over my shoulder, wondering who was out there watching me.

  I felt safer here in La Jolla. I wished Lucky were here with me, but then I might not go back at all.

  I thought about Lucky as I walked along the beach. He would love running in and out of the surf, chasing the seagulls. I wanted to bring him back with me next time, get him used to the ocean. One more step in my fantasy of living by the beach.

  It was barely six and the sky was just starting to lose the heavy darkness of night. Clouds billowed as the wind pushed them here and there. There were a few early risers out walking the beach as I was, alleviating my fear of being completely alone.

  I used to love having time by myself before everything happened. It was purifying to close off everything from my thoughts, blocking out my surroundings, but I couldn’t do that now. It was too dangerous.

  I couldn’t sleep. The girls hadn’t made a sound as I quietly slipped out the door. We stayed up late, laughing and drinking wine, giggling like schoolgirls, and planning our dreams of someday.

  This weekend getaway had been relaxing in so many ways. It enabled me to escape for a little while. I didn’t realize how much my body and my mind needed that, or how tense I had become.

  Maggie brought up my stalking situation last night and we all kept trying to come up with an answer. Whoever it was had to know me quite well or at least my movements on a daily basis. They’d been able to watch me without my noticing, even from my own neighborhood.

  Andrea went down the list of every man I’d dated in the last few years. Needless to say, the list was long and embarrassing. Her eyes kept getting bigger as my list grew.

  It wasn’t until we started writing names down, I realized just how many different men I’d gone out with.

  I was a disaster waiting to happen.

  And every one of them was an attempt to eradicate Elliot from my heart. A whole lot of good it did.

  I took a seat on the rocks just inside the cove above the water. The breeze was lighter today than it had been yesterday, making it warmer. The waves barely skimmed the shoreline as they moved in and out. It hypnotized me as I watched, helping me try to clear my head. I kept bouncing between my stalker and seeing Elliot running on the beach yesterday.

  Memories of the two of us kept drifting into my thoughts, drowning out everything else. Everywhere we walked this weekend brought back the times I shared with him here years ago—good memories.

  Memories of what I had and of what I destroyed. I think that was why a part of me wished I could stay forever. I could surround myself with visions of yesterdays. Wrap them around me like a well-worn, soft blanket, shielding me from unpleasantness and drama or the fear of the unknown. I would pretend the blanket was Elliot’s arms, keeping me safe.

  Occasionally, I glanced northward on the beach, the area Elliot had run to yesterday morning. I didn’t see him. I wasn’t even sure what I would do if he suddenly appeared. More than likely, I’d find a place to hide. I wanted to see him, but … sometimes the not knowing was a safer place to be.

  A hand touched my shoulder from behind, making me shriek and jump up, stumbling forward.

  Maggie grabbed my arm before I could fall over the ledge onto the beach.

  “Sorry, I thought you heard me come up behind you.”

  It took a moment to catch my breath, my breathing coming out in ragged gasps as I bent forward, my hands and face resting on my knees.

  “Holly crap, Maggie,” I tried to get out between gasps.

  “Sorry.” She rubbed my back trying to get me to relax. “I think you were deep in thought or maybe another world there.”

  “Yeah, I think I was,” I told her.

  I took a couple of deep breaths to relax again and sat down next to her.

  “Is Andrea up and moving?”

  Maggie nodded, looking around the cove. “Have you seen him yet this morning?”

  I just shook my head, glancing north … hoping.

  “Emily … I had the craziest thought in the middle of the night, about your stalker…” Maggie seemed to hesitate.

  I looked over at her, waiting for her to continue. Judging by the worried expression on her face, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear this. I had some strange thoughts myself last night, when we were discussing it.

  “Obviously, it’s someone who knows you, your schedule, someone trying to get your
attention. Is there any chance we are wrong about him and it is Elliot? I mean, he’s here now, but maybe it’s for the weekend—like us. What are the chances? I mean someone is stalking you and suddenly he is here after all these years? Everything you have said about him makes me think no way, but what if we’re wrong? What if you never really knew him, the real Elliot. I realize I joked about it yesterday and didn’t mean any of it … but what if? I mean … shit … everyone thought Ted Bundy was a nice guy too.”

  I didn’t say anything at first. I didn’t want to believe Elliot could be stalking me. I didn’t want to believe it, but the same thought briefly crossed my mind last night, too. How well did I really know him?

  In my heart, Elliot was a kind and gentle soul, so full of good, not some psycho.

  Could he have changed so much in the years since he left me? His books were filled with murder, stalking, twisted characters, and evil plots. It was what made reading them so fantastic, but novels were fiction, not real life … well, most of them anyway.

  I felt a shiver race over me from the top of my head all the way down to my toes, making me wrap my sweater tighter around me, trying to cocoon me from the evil I couldn’t see. It wasn’t Elliot. It just couldn’t be. I refused to entertain the idea.

  I looked over at Maggie, the doubt in her eyes matching the doubt in mine. I shook my head.

  “I don’t want to think of the possibility,” I told her.

  But deep down? I would think about it. The thoughts wouldn’t leave me once they worked their way into my mind.

  Could Elliot hate me enough to want to hurt me? Was he still the same man I dreamed of? Or did I create a fantasy of the perfect man I wanted him to be, a storybook hero to give me hope for someday. My white knight rock star savior all rolled into a figment of my warped imagination?

  I needed to shake off these sinister thoughts. Glancing back at the beach house, I looked for Andrea, but she must still be inside packing.