“Rebecca, I think it’s best if we just call this what it is. Over.” I dumped my coffee in the sink and reached in the mini-fridge for a beer.
“But I miss you. Like really miss you. I’m sorry, really sorry.” Her voice cracked and I winced at the sound. I didn’t want to be someone she missed.
I tried to think if I missed her. There was no denying she was beautiful—gorgeous by any man’s standards. But even after the dating had turned from publicity stunt to voluntary, I knew there was something missing. I couldn’t help but think she was with me to toss her star a little higher in the sky. Her love for me always seemed the brightest when a camera was nearby.
“I’m sorry. I called to tell you that and to let you know I’m not mad. I don’t want you to think I’m mad.” According to the grocery store headlines, I was in hiding with a broken heart, plotting a comeback with a bombshell supermodel.
“Can’t you give us another chance? Just talk about it at least? You told me you wanted to take me home to meet your family. We were supposed to go to Texas. Let’s do that. We can go to the ranch and get away from the cameras. I’ve always wanted to see where you live. As much as you talked about Texas I always felt like I’d actually been there with you. We need to be alone. Just you and me.”
It was hard to hear. I didn’t expect it. She wasn’t supposed to fight me on this, but for some reason, Rebecca was grasping at straws and clawing for memories and promises that shouldn’t have been made.
“Darlin’, we both know we were only together for the movie. Don’t spin it into something it wasn’t.”
Although, I was starting to doubt what it was we had. Was she more genuine and sincere than I realized? Maybe I was the one doing the spinning. Everything was muddled and blurry.
It didn’t matter. We couldn’t start over. The media would always be the third person in our relationship, and I was done living my love life on the front page.
“Damn it, Ben. It was not just a publicity tactic. That trip to Cabo? We fucked an entire weekend. That meant something to me. And that night in San Francisco? Really, that was all for our images? There were no cameras; it was you and me. You’re a real asshole, you know that!”
I took a swig of the cold beer. At least if she was mad at me she would stop trying to stir up feelings. “I just needed to say it. Set things straight. Ok?” I paused. “Take care, Becs. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.” This was not the time to tell her I had walked my last red carpet. That would really set her off.
“Take care? Who am I even talking to? Why didn’t you just text me a break up?”
I sighed. “It’s not even a break up. You moved on weeks ago. You slept with someone else. This is more of a good-bye.”
“I told you I was sorry about Hawaii. Ben, come on. Tell me where you are. You’re sounding crazy and not like yourself at all. Say something that makes sense. Say something that sounds like Ben Baldwin,” she pleaded.
I closed my eyes. This had to be it. Everything there was to talk about had been said. There wasn’t any reason to drag it out. The longer I stayed on the phone, the longer she had to surprise me with more memories we shared. I didn’t want that.
“Goodbye, Becs.” I slid the phone across the table and finished off the beer.
It was over. She wouldn’t call or text anymore. If she did, it was her own damn fault for not listening. This was all for the better. One day she would realize it. I hoped, for her sake, it didn’t take her two weeks on a lonely beach to figure it out.
The water was calm again today. I didn’t know if it was normal for the ocean to be like this two days in a row, but I had a feeling I should make the most of it.
I opened the door to the campground office. “Good morning, Flo.”
“Well, hey, Jake.” She thumbed through a gardening magazine and glanced in my direction.
“I’m headed into town. I was hoping you might be able to tell me if there’s a place to rent those kayaks I keep seeing out there.” I pointed to the orange and blue boats drifting near the shore.
“Kayaks? You mean you’re not going to sit and drink on the beach all day?” She cleared her throat and flipped to a page on summer gardenias.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. I hadn’t cared much about what people thought about me. I didn’t want them to think about me at all, but Flo’s accurate description stung a little. From a distance, I could see where people might get the wrong impression of me.
“I thought I should see the beach from the waterside.” I laughed, trying to charm her with my usual finesse, but she was one woman who wouldn’t take the bait.
“They rent them out there at Davis General Store. Behind the store, there’s a stand on the docks.” The gardenia feature must be fascinating, although I knew they couldn’t grow anything at the campground. There wasn’t any soil, only sand.
“Thanks, Flo. I appreciate it.” I turned for the screen door.
“How’s that book of yours coming along?”
“Book?” I froze. “Oh yeah, it’s going. Taking me a little longer to write than I expected.”
“Good thing you’re here for the whole summer, I guess.” She placed the magazine on the desk.
I couldn’t help but think she saw right through my flimsy cover story. If she did, she didn’t mention it.
“Tell Carl I said hello.” I knew he was down on the beach surf fishing. He was out every day with a pole and a chair.
“Will do.” She picked the magazine up.
I closed the door behind me and strolled to the Jeep. I had left it running in front of the office. It was a small campground, and other than Alice, I thought most people stayed only a night or two before moving on. It made sense Flora would know my habits.
I felt a little guilty about the drinking. The last thing I wanted was to be known as the campground drunk. I turned onto the road that led to the village and vowed to cut back on the beer. Five o’clock was an acceptable cocktail hour—no more beer for breakfast. I leaned over, cranked up a song on the radio, and let the wind blow through my hair.
I hadn’t returned to the general store since my first morning on the island. The grocery store had more produce, and despite all the beer, I did like to have fresh fruit. As I pulled into an open parking space in front of Davis, I noticed the docks behind the store for the first time. There was a wooden stand with Rentals written in blue. It looked like the store carried kayaks, canoes, snorkel sets, and fishing gear.
I hopped on the boardwalk and strolled to the boat slips where the rental stand sat.
As I walked closer, I overheard parts of a disagreement. I kept my hands in my pockets and hung back close to the corner of the store. Whoever was talking needed a minute to figure things out.
“Der, you can’t be serious. You are quitting?”
“Yeah, why is that so unbelievable? You think you know me so well. Didn’t see that one coming, did you?” He smirked.
I recognized the clerk who had helped me with the beer. That guy had seemed a lot nicer in the store, and there was the girl who wrote notes on the register paper. I had forgotten how pretty she looked. Right now, she looked mad.
“Don’t be such an ass. There is no reason to quit.” Her hands were on her hips.
“I don’t want to work here anymore. I don’t want to see you at the store every day. I’m tired of covering for you, and I got another job.”
“Another job?” Her voice was shrill. I watched as the guy walked from behind the counter, out onto the pier. I was starting to think this wasn’t the best time to rent a kayak. Maybe another day.
“Yeah, Chelsea. Another job.”
“Don’t leave like this,” she pleaded.
“What’s this, son?” A deeper voice emerged in the discussion. “You’re leaving?” he asked.
I peeked around the corner. The two store clerks had been joined by a man probably in his fifties. This was getting more awkward.
“Mr. Davis, sorry for you to hear this
way, but I’ve taken another position.” His voice might have cracked.
The man glared at the pair. “Let me guess, this has something to do with Chelsea.”
“Dad, that’s not fair. I had no idea he was leaving.”
I watched as the man turned his back on the girl. “Derek, I’m sorry for whatever has happened. What can I do to keep you on?”
“Mr. Davis, you’ve been really great to me over the years.”
“That doesn’t sound like I have a chance to change your mind.” He sighed. “I hope we can come to an understanding, but if we can’t, I can count on you to work until I find a replacement?”
“No, sir. I’m sorry, but this is my last day at the store. I start tomorrow.” There was an air of triumph in the announcement.
“Der, what are you talking about? Where are you going?” she questioned.
“I’m the new surfing instructor at Wave On.” He looked pleased with himself.
“You know, Derek, why don’t you wait inside for me and I’ll be in to discuss your pay. I need to speak with Chelsea for a second.” The older guy urged the clerk to leave the conversation.
Derek tossed a clipboard on the countertop and walked a few paces on the docks and into the store.
The father turned. “Don’t stand there and tell me you’re not responsible for him leaving.”
“Dad, this is complete news to me, but Derek has a right to change jobs if he wants to.”
“Of course he does, but he has worked here for five years, and all of a sudden, he can’t stand it? How do you expect me to replace an employee like that? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Any idea at all?”
The tears were welling in her eyes. Even from fifteen feet away I could see them. I also saw her biting her bottom lip. She didn’t seem like the type that would cry, but I wasn’t sure I had ever heard anything like this before.
“I can try to talk to him again. I’ll ask him to stay,” she offered.
“No. I think you’ve done enough. In the meantime, you can take over his Thursday shift and—”
“But, that’s my one day off,” she shrieked.
“Maybe after this you’ll learn to respect the boundaries at work.”
“You can’t be serious.”
I watched as she balled her fists on the counter. I didn’t know what was happening between them, but it was messy. I didn’t like the hurt that was on her face. She was being bullied, and I felt a protective instinct kick in. I wanted to help her.
“You’ve left me without a clerk. It’s almost the end of June. Where am I going to find somebody now? All the students have jobs. No one is going to turn up at this point in the summer. Derek was the best employee I had. Five years, Chelsea. He was here five years.”
“I’ll find someone. Calm down.” She pressed the ends of her palms into her cheekbones. I was impressed the tears didn’t fall.
“You think it’s that easy? You think we can replace a worker like him? Fine. It’s your responsibility now. You find someone who is decent and you can have your Thursdays back.” I heard the deck boards creak as he walked back into the store, muttering something under his breath.
The coast was clear. Maybe I could rent that kayak now. That was all I wanted—take one of those blue boats out on the water and glide across the surface. I sucked in a deep breath and stepped one foot around the corner.
And right then, everything changed. I knew I wouldn’t be renting a kayak today.
Twelve
Chelsea
They were just like the lyrics, always popping up at the most inconvenient time. I brushed the tears off my cheeks and searched the rental stand for something to wipe my eyes. The only thing in my apron pocket was a scrap of paper.
“Damn it, where’s a tissue when I need it?” I pushed the reservation book to the side. Everything looked blurry.
When I walked into work this morning, I knew Derek was acting fidgety. He got that way when he was nervous. After five years at the store, I couldn’t believe he would quit because of me. Because of us. Sure, it was awkward and uncomfortable, but we would have to deal with it. Eventually enough time would pass that we could work together again—at least that’s what I convinced myself. He only needed time. Why couldn’t he see that we were better as friends?
Then my father had to compound the problem. It took every ounce of strength I had not to call him out on the affair. I still wasn’t sure what kept it from flying out of my mouth. I wanted to hit him with it. I wanted him to know that I knew about Eileen and their relationship. However, even when the words were on the tip of my tongue, my throat clamped shut and they wouldn’t come out. If I released those words, it would somehow make the unthinkable a reality. Part of me wanted the affair to be a misunderstanding or a bad dream I couldn’t shake.
I sighed, knowing that it was for the best I didn’t confront him. My mother couldn’t find out this way. For now, I would carry the burden of his betrayal a little longer.
I heard footsteps and knew I needed to get it together. The corner of the apron would have to do.
“Hi.” A customer stood in front of me. His voice was deep.
I flattened the tear-stained apron against the tops of my thighs and pulled my shoulders back.
“Hi. Can I help you?” I asked.
Hopefully, he would rent a snorkel set and be out of here in two minutes. I needed a moment alone to regroup. Being blindsided by so much emotion at once left me feeling off-balance.
“As a matter of fact, I was wondering if you have any job openings. I know it’s a long-shot, but I’m here for the summer and could use a little extra spending money.”
I looked at the guy. He was vaguely familiar. I thought I remembered him from a couple of weeks ago, but he didn’t have that beard and it was hard to remember all the customers who came through the store.
“You heard all of that, didn’t you?” I asked.
I didn’t believe him for a second. I hoped he had only caught the end of the disagreement between my dad and me.
He adjusted his sunglasses to the top of his head. “All I heard is that you are in charge of hiring, and I am here to be hired.” He smiled, and I tried to figure out what the look was in his eyes. They were warm, soft, and a gray-green color that blended in with the water on the horizon.
Yes, I definitely recognized that grin. He had been here before and forgotten a case of beer.
“Do you have a name?” I asked.
He had sandy brown hair that probably hadn’t seen a cut in a few weeks. He reminded me a little of Pearce Taylor on the Carolina football team. It was the height and the broad shoulders.
“Jake. What about you?” He searched my apron for a name tag.
“Chelsea. Chelsea Davis.” I pointed to the sign behind his head. “Part of the great Davis General Store dynasty.”
“That seems like a pretty cool gig. You get to work out here all summer. Not a bad view.”
I noticed his eyes were locked on me and not on the boats in the marina or the waves out in the ocean. It made my neck warm, and I wondered if the color had risen to my cheeks.
“What are you doing here this summer, Jake with-no-last-name? Do you have any retail experience?” If he was truly interested in taking Derek’s position, the least I could do was vet him a little.
He took his time with his words. Nothing about this guy said, “I’m in a hurry.” For someone not from the island, he seemed at ease on the docks.
“I’m a writer. Spending the summer on Brees to—uh—write.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
My eyes shot to his. “Writer? You’re an actual writer? What do you write? Books? Are you a journalist?” I had a sudden shot of adrenaline. “Any chance you write music? Because I’m a songwriter.”
I knew I was pelting him with questions with no space between to answer, but this was exciting. An actual writer. It didn’t matter if he wrote menus. At least he wrote.
“I—uh—I’m working on a book.
”
I tried to picture the scruffy, athletic-looking man buried behind a laptop, or scribbling out words in a notebook.
“I can’t believe this. A writer. But if you’re working on a book this summer, why do you want a job here?” I knew this might mean he wasn’t a successful writer.
He shifted in his flip-flops. “Like I said, I need a little extra summer spending cash, and it sounded like you needed some help. I can fill in for a few weeks until you find someone more permanent. That way you can keep those Thursdays.”
My stomach twisted. He might have heard the entire conversation. How mortifying.
“What about your last name? Would I know any of your books?” How cool would it be if I had actually read something of his?
I could tell he was searching the boat slips behind me, but I didn’t know for what.
“It’s Grady. Jake Grady. And it’s my first book, so you wouldn’t have heard of me. I’m still an unknown.”
That didn’t matter to me. I was an unknown too.
“That’s ok. All writers have to start somewhere. So what’s it about?”
“What’s what about?” He tilted his head.
I dropped my hands from my hips. “Your book. What’s the story?” I asked.
“Is this your standard job interview?” He cocked his eyebrow.
“Right. Sorry.” It was official. I was blushing now. The word “writer” had derailed my initial line of questioning. I stopped for a second.
“But you haven’t even asked what the pay is or the job. Don’t you want to know what the responsibilities are? Hours? That kind of thing?”
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