by L. B. Dunbar
“Can’t say I recall her.” His eyes narrow.
“Blond, blue eyes, great body.”
Jess chuckles, scratching under his chin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just described my future wife.”
I laugh off the implication. “I’ve just described half of the women we ever knew.” Shaking my head at how ridiculous I sound, I turn my gaze to the party, not focusing on anyone in particular. “Just thought I’d ask, though.”
“Why?” Jess’s gaze narrows on me.
“I saw her. I thought she’d left. In fact, I know she did.” When we ran into each other thirteen years ago, we literally met on the street. She was walking down the sidewalk toward me, and I did a double take. She’d been back in town visiting her uncle. She lived in Grand Rapids. “But she’s here again.”
“Does she live here?”
I shake my head once more. “I have no idea. She was at the ballfield on the lake and then slipped away from me.” Again. Like that morning she slipped out of our hotel room and I never saw her again.
“Where was her uncle’s house? Maybe she’s back there,” Jess offers.
“I don’t know if I remember exactly,” I admit. “A lot has changed around here.” At the thought, I turn my head, thinking her uncle’s house was somewhere near here, but I just can’t remember where. The lakefront properties have considerably changed with some huge homes. Tom and Karyn’s house is modest when compared to newer places.
“Yeah, but some things haven’t changed,” Jess says, patting my upper arm. I don’t know what he means, but before I can ask, he says, “I’m going for a beer. Want one?” His eyes are set on his girl, though, so beer is really code for getting over to her.
“I’m good,” I say, deciding to step away from the chaos as the party seems to grow with more than just our families. It’s a Wednesday night, but Tom loves to gather people. This week also overlaps Elk Lake City’s annual festival called Harbor Days, so the town is growing in population.
I wander through the crowd, working my way to the front of the house where a basketball hoop is on the driveway, and a group of boys is playing ball.
“Gavin Scott, it’s really you.” Tricia Carter, Jess’s youngest sister, addresses me and comes in for a hug. When I left, she wasn’t even in eighth grade, but she’s turned into a beautiful woman, and she’s very pregnant.
“What happened?” I gasp, although the mechanics of sex are not lost on me.
“I got divorced.”
What? “Oh, I didn’t know.” How do I not know these things?
Tricia smiles. “And then I met someone.” Her eyes travel to the driveway court where a man in black dress pants and a black tee is playing hoops with the boys. “That’s Leon. He’s my husband.”
When I glance back at Tricia, she’s rubbing her belly and grinning at him, looking just as happy as her brother. I hate to say it, but all this happiness is choking me.
“Hey, I’m stepping out to make a phone call. I’ll be back.” Reaching for my phone, I use it as a scapegoat from the sappiness while not really having anyone to call. I walk to the end of the drive and then turn right for some reason. Glancing from side to side on the darkening road, I’d like to say I recognize homes and locations, but I don’t. I’ve been down this inner drive at some time, but I can’t recall who used to live around here because the houses are so different.
As I walk, lost in my thoughts, I hear a shout behind me.
“Gee, slow down.”
Spinning, I turn just in time to see Gee on his bike. He whizzes past me without a glance, and Britton follows. She looks up, noticing me on the road, and the front tire of her bike wobbles, causing her to swerve.
“Whoa,” she cries, laughing at the same time the bike skids from side to side before it stops, and she hops off, cursing. I jog up to her.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, my foot just slipped, and the pedal got me in the shin.” She looks up from her wounded leg and down the road. “Gee,” she calls out.
“Want me to chase him down?” I’m not really dressed for a run, but I run every day, and I’ll go after him if she needs me to.
“Nah, I guess he’ll be okay. We were almost . . .” Her voice drifts.
“Almost where?” I glance up, scanning before her and behind her, still uncertain of my bearings.
“Almost home,” she whispers, lowering her head.
“You live here?” The question slices through the quiet of the night as I stare back at her. Britton doesn’t answer, her eyes avoiding mine as she focuses on the bike she straddles.
I do another sweep of my surroundings, trying to place things, and then I narrow my sight on the road ahead of us. “Your uncle’s place. It’s right up there.”
I start walking, almost forgetting her as I’m lost in memories of driving her home, parking on this road to get in one more kiss, one more touch, before returning her to her uncle’s place.
“Is Leo still here?” My voice rises again, excited by the potential of seeing the old man.
“Gavin,” Britton calls out behind me, and I turn to find her walking toward me, holding her bike. “Leo died a few years back.”
Shit. Shit. It makes sense. He would be old, but he was so young at heart.
“And Gertie?” Leo had a forever girl, as he called her. A woman who owned his heart, but they never married. They lived together—scandalously in sin—Leo would whisper as he told me because they never made it legal.
She wouldn’t answer my question, Leo would tease of the various marriage proposals he claimed to make her. According to Gertie, he only asked once and then never again. I always wondered if she was waiting on him to pop the question a second time. Leo hadn’t missed his chance, but Gertie certainly did, and it never made sense. They were the happiest, wackiest couple I knew, and they were perfect for one another.
“She went just after Gee was born.”
“Jesus, I’m so sorry, Brit. I know how important they both were to you.” Britton loved her great-uncle like the grandfather she never had. He was a substitute for her father as they were not close, and even less so after her parents’ divorce when she was sixteen.
Her forehead furrows, and she looks past my shoulders. “It was a long time ago.” Sadness fills her voice, and I remember her husband is also gone. She must be so alone. Or not. Why would she be alone? She’s still young and beautiful and full of life. She must have a boyfriend.
“Do you live in his place?” Britton doesn’t answer, chewing at her lip, and I have my answer. “Of course, you do. You loved that place.”
I laugh, almost giddy at the prospect of her living in that old house. Reaching for Britton’s handlebars, I take the bike from her and begin pushing it down the road like we’re teenagers on a date, and I’m walking her home. The thought reminds me of so many evenings, also from a long time ago.
“What happened?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” she questions, walking quietly beside me.
“With everything? What happened to Leo, and Gertie, and your husband, and the house? Tell me everything.”
“Why?” Her question surprises me.
“I want to know.”
“Why?” she asks again, eyes shifting to me before focusing forward as we walk.
Because it’s been too long.
Because I never stopped thinking about you.
Because I always cared about you, cared maybe more than I could admit.
That morning, when Britton was gone, it hurt to find the room empty. I told myself it was for the best. I was at the height of my career, and I couldn’t do commitments, but I’d always been a little sorry she went missing from my life.
“I just want to know,” I say, noting how standoffish she is. “What am I missing here? Do you have a boyfriend? A man in your life?” Still holding her bike, I stop walking and peer over at her. Am I treading where I shouldn’t?
“What are you missing?” Britton scoffs,
crossing her arms to glare back at me. “I’d say thirteen years.”
It’s getting darker, and she’s surrounded by the shadowy light of an ending day. She’s wearing short shorts again and a fitted tee. Her hair is in a ponytail, making her look as young as she once was, and I want to tug that rope of hair and suck at her neck. The bike separates us, and I don’t like the distance. We’re alone on a secluded road, and my mouth waters to kiss hers, reminding me of what she tastes like and reminding her of how we once were.
“You walked out on me,” I remind her, hoping to tease, but finding the second I open the wound, I’m raw myself.
“Me?” she huffs, pointing at herself. “You left me, Gavin. Not a word. Not a phone number. Nothing.”
“What?” I glare at her. “That’s not what happened.” My thoughts jump to that weekend and how we were naked as much as we could be.
“I woke up alone in that bed. Alone,” she says, a cutting edge to her tone.
“I went to get us coffee, and when I came back, you were gone.”
“That was a long coffee,” she says sarcastically.
We glare at one another.
“Jesus, Brit. I thought you ditched me.”
“Well, you ditched me,” she snarks. “You didn’t even leave a note.”
“It wasn’t like that.” I was impulsive, like propositioning her to spend the weekend with me and suggesting all the things we did. It was like destiny put her walking down that street or something freaky like that. I almost passed her but did a double take. When she agreed to have a drink with me, telling me she had just come from a visit with Leo, I couldn’t let her go. I asked her to spend the weekend with me. I wanted to get lost in her for a few days. Her smile. Her laughter. Her body.
“I needed coffee, and the hotel was out. I went to the café next door, thinking it’d be quick enough, and I’d surprise you with something sweet.” I’d also bought a package of red licorice at the candy counter of the hotel, hoping to remind her of when we were young.
“Why didn’t you leave a note?” I accuse.
“I didn’t know that was the protocol.”
Ouch. She’d teased me I was a player and not just on the ballfield. Crossing states off my list, I’d been the one loving and leaving women as I traveled with the team, but Britton was different. I wanted to assure her she was all I had on my mind. Her words are a reminder she hadn’t ever done all that we did that weekend, or even that summer back when we were teens. She wasn’t like the baseball bunnies. She was special to me, more important than she might ever have realized, perhaps because so many of her firsts were with me.
“Look, it doesn’t matter now. That was a long time ago.” She shrugs and reaches for her bike, placing her hands on the handlebars while snapping at me. “I got it.”
“No, I’ve got it,” I say with determination. I’m not letting go, not this time. I’m pissed that I misread a situation some thirteen years ago, and we’ve both been living with this misunderstanding. We’ve both been living with this loss, but I’m not living without her again.
“You still didn’t answer my question about a man in your life,” I tease, hoping to restore us a little to lighter topics, but selfishly I don’t want there to be someone.
Britton thinks on it a second, narrowing her eyes at the road ahead. “Actually, I do.”
Double ouch, but I nod to accept it. Of course, she has a man in her life, and I’m jealous all over again. Whoever he is, he better be good to her.
Take 7
Scene: The Uncle’s House
[Britton]
Do I have a man in my life? Is he kidding me?
As Gavin continues to walk me home, we remain silent, each grappling with our own memories. I woke alone that morning, the bed empty, the room bare. The box of condoms was gone. His things were missing. Silently, I dressed in my two-day-old dress and did the walk of shame down the back stairs of the hotel in Traverse City. It wasn’t my proudest moment but certainly not my worst. We’d gone into the weekend with no promises, just a proposition.
Gavin asked me to spend the weekend with him, nothing held back. Anything he asked, anything I wanted. Those thirty-six hours were a time to experiment with all the things I’d wanted to try and only ever read about. I didn’t have much of a social life, and I was too busy for a committed relationship. It’s one reason I’d turned down Patrick after his numerous attempts to ask me out. That, and the fact, he was considerably older than me. I trained often for the ballet company, and I read to compensate for the lonely times. Romance novels filled with love and sex, so much sex, filled the empty spaces. As I trusted Gavin, despite the years between our first meeting, I knew he could give me what I wanted. He was still incredibly good-looking, physically fit, and just fun to be around. He’d be my experiment.
And the one thing I learned about myself was my heart wasn’t into casual hookup relationships. It hurt so much that he was gone again from my life. It hurt even worse nine months later.
From Gavin’s explanation, he left to get us coffee and returned to find the room empty of me. I didn’t think to leave him a note as I thought he was already gone.
“Why didn’t you leave a note that you went to get breakfast?” I blurt, still puzzled by his absence and his missing things.
“I wanted to surprise you. I just didn’t think about it.” His forehead furrows as his eyes narrow on the dark road before us. “I didn’t think you’d be gone when I returned.”
“Your things were missing,” I snark.
“I’d taken my bag down to the front desk for them to hold. I was hoping to spend the rest of the day with you. My flight didn’t leave until later.”
I guess I hadn’t remembered the fine details, and we hadn’t discussed anything beyond that hotel room. It hadn’t crossed my mind that we’d spend hours outside of a bedroom, and he didn’t have a place to put his bag while we did whatever he thought we’d do. Not able to respond, I remain quiet as we finish the walk.
“This is me.” I point at the overgrown shrubs and the narrow gravel drive leading toward the lake. The house is a small cottage, situated closer to the water. From the back, it’s nondescript, other than the faded yellow paint and sagging roofline. It’s the view on the other side that’s breathtaking.
“What happened to the garden?” Gavin asks, and I chuckle when I recall that Gertie had turned this portion of the yard into a virtual fairyland. It was stocked with an array of daisies, black-eyed Susans, and coneflowers at one time. Constantly in bloom, the butterflies loved the arrangement.
“As time passed and Gertie too, Leo couldn’t upkeep the flower beds. He didn’t have the energy.” Guilt washes over me. I hadn’t had the energy then, either. Gertie died shortly after Gee’s birth, but I didn’t have time for gardening as a new parent. Leo and Gertie offered me their home to stay in while I was pregnant, and I should have done more for them. They were everything to me.
“I’m sorry again about both of them,” Gavin states beside me. I reach for my bike, but he walks forward, helping himself to enter the drive as he guides the bike. My heart races once more as I don’t want Gavin near the house or the man in my life inside.
“Wow,” he exhales as we near the house, and he catches the view. The sun is still dropping off to the west, and a quiet calm covers the lake. It shimmers under the impending sunset. “I’ve forgotten how much I love this place.”
My house? This lake? The area? None of it matters as he doesn’t live here, and he didn’t love me. Not in the way I’d felt about him.
“Thank you for walking me home. I’ve got it from here. Have a good night, Gavin.” I reach out for the bike and walk it to the side of the house. We don’t have a garage, only a storage shed. The house itself needs so many improvements, but I don’t have the means. That unexpected tax bill has my finances pinned up for years.
“You know, you could make bank on this place,” Gavin teases, and I jump, not realizing he’s still behind me, standing
on the edge of the property looking out at the lake.
“I don’t want to make bank,” I mock, and his attention turns to me. His hands have slipped into his pants pockets. His dress shirt is rolled to his elbows once again. It seems to be a signature look for him, and it’s strange compared to the tees and shorts of his teens. He’s so grown-up, but of course, he is. He’s thirty-eight, and we aren’t kids anymore.
As I focus back on the house, the place has too much sentimental value for me to sell despite the looming tax bill and the badgering of Sterling Realty.
“Why were you on this road?” Admittedly, finding Gavin standing in the middle of the street was like something out of a horror film. That moment a vehicle rounds the bend and the killer stands in the beam of headlights. Although Gavin is no killer, despite his heartbreaking ways, his model-worthy looks might make a victim beg him to be taken. I shake my head at the sadistic thoughts.
“I was at a party. My sister is your neighbor down the way.” His brows pinch as he stares at me as if he’s puzzled how his sister could be my neighbor. “I had no idea.”
“Why would you? You don’t visit.” I know a thing or two about Gavin Scott and his absence from his family. His nephew Holden is the same age as Gee. His sister often speaks enough of her brother’s lack of visits when I see her at school functions or baseball games. I also know about his mother. She has breast cancer. She’s a regular at TeasMe! when she’s feeling up to getting out of the house.
I once reminded Karyn of Gavin and of knowing one another when we were teens. She was in her twenties back then and married at the time. She didn’t recall meeting me, blowing it off as Gavin having so many girls in his life as a teen. I chuckled too, dismissing the hurt in my heart. He’d only had me that summer. At least, that’s what he told me, and he certainly spent enough time with me that I didn’t know how he’d fit someone else in his life. Informing her of our more recent encounter seemed inconsequential, so I never mentioned it.