After checking the clock on the wall that says its a quarter past nine, I make my way to Bristol's room. She'll still be sleeping, though I'm not in the mood to wait this out. I've given her a couple days to get her act together and I've yet to hear the slightest apologies, so I beat on the door until she answers.
Her hair is the first thing I notice. She's put bright blue streaks throughout, making her look like an animated character instead of the beautiful young woman I know she hides from me. She rolls her eyes when she realizes it's me waking her up. "Dad, it's the weekend."
I barge right in and sit on her bed before she's able to climb back under the covers. My hands pat the spot beside me for her to sit. She crosses her arms, refusing to oblige. "Can't this wait?"
"Tattoo. Let's see it."
"I don't have one."
I hold out my hand. "Then you won't have any problem returning the money you stole from your brother."
She slams her fists downward. "I told him I'd pay him back."
"Bristol, I'm not going to ask you again. Show me the damage or else I'm going to that parlor and letting them know one of their employees is doing work on minors."
"Fine! It's my skin. Why do you care anyway?"
While I watch her lift the bottom on her shirt to reveal her ribs, I feel the need to explain. "Because you're my daughter. You're still my child."
"I'm not a kid. I'm almost eighteen."
"But you're not."
The moment I see the art, I know the significance, and don't know how I'm going to punish her. It's my late wife's initials with her birth year followed by her year of death. "See. I got it for Mom."
"Why didn't you just ask permission?"
"You would have told me to wait and I didn't want to. It was my present to her, something I'll carry with me forever."
I almost want to tear up. This is a side of Bristol I haven't seen in months. It gives me hope that my sweet little girl is still somewhere in there.
"Oh, and I'm sorry about your friend, but her son is a jerk. Everyone thinks so."
Her idea of a jerk is probably not the same as mine. Bristol tends to over-exaggerate, so I ignore the comment and go straight to another issue. “Have you told the guy with the motorcycle that you’re not to see him any longer?”
She shrugs.
I start walking out of her room. “Do it today, Bristol. If I catch him picking you up, I’m finding out where he works and having their license taken away for tattooing minors. I’m not screwing around.”
“But Dad.”
“I mean it.”
I’m still irate while at the house, and since Perry has done more work here then I’ve managed to keep up with in years, there’s nothing for me to do but sulk.
All I continue to focus on is her moped. Her smashed headlight. The damaged seat. Possible engine tampering. I know how much she enjoyed riding that around town, and how the cost of a new one would be too much for her to handle while looking for a place to live. Since I screwed up the night before, I’m obligated to do something to make it up to her, so after getting myself cleaned up and enlisting the help of Dane, we head out.
It’s right where it sat the last time I saw it. Dane, driving his big brother’s Scout so we can easily lift it inside the vehicle, hops out to access the damage, while I peer at the tavern door to see the sign displays that their open for business. I excuse myself and make my way up the few steps until I’m able to walk inside.
There’s a familiar guy behind the bar holding a clipboard. “We’re not actually open for another hour,” he says without looking up.
“I thought Perry might be here.”
He’s still focused on the paperwork as he responds. “Na. She’s off today, and from the looks of her moped probably not planning on stopping by for work purposes. I come in early to do inventory since I cover the Saturday shift already. Do you have her number? I’ve been trying to call all morning. I hope she didn’t get into an accident on her moped.”
I’ve already started to walk back out. “I saw her this morning. She’s fine. Her moped was vandalized. I’m here to pick it up and take it for repairs. Thanks for the information.”
By the time I reach the parking lot, Dane has already loaded the moped into the vehicle. I climb in and we head to a nearby moped and scooter shop. They mostly do rentals, but repair their own equipment in a back hobby station. Van Miller, a local of Wallop’s Island, a nearby community, owns and operates the business. He sees us pull up and comes to inspect the moped we’re getting out of the back.
We shake hands first, then he does the same with Dane. “What’s up, guys?”
“Dad’s lady friend had some trouble with vandals. He thinks he can impress her by fixing it up.”
Van gives the bike a quick look and recognizes the stickers Perry has strategically placed around it. “This belongs to Ally, right?”
Dane frowns like he’s confused, while I answer to clear the confusion. “Yeah, Ally Perry’s bike. That’s right. You think you can put a new headlight and seat on this for me while we wait?”
“Sure.”
“Oh, and if it’s not a lot of trouble, can you check to make sure all the brake and gas lines are in tact. I wouldn’t want it malfunctioning while she’s on it.”
“Give me an hour. I’ll take care of it for it you.”
We shake again. “We’ll grab some lunch and pick it up afterwards. Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, Buck.”
“You want anything from Smokey’s?” Dane asks him.
Van tells us to pick him up a pit beef sandwich before we head down the road to kill time.
We’re not even out of the parking lot before he’s on my ass. “Enough is enough, Dad. I know you’re a good person, but what’s going on between you and this woman? I haven’t seen you this interested in helping a woman since Mom was still alive. What gives? Were you really on the Layla last night?”
There’s no sense lying to Dane. He’s got his mother’s ability to read people. “I was on the Layla, but I wasn’t alone.”
His eyes light up. We could have walked to the outdoor pit beef stand, but took the twenty second drive because it was easier. “No shit? Perry?”
I don’t know why talking about her makes me nervous. I scratch my head and look in another direction when I answer. “Yeah, Perry.”
“You’re tapping that? Damn, you go. She’s hot.”
“Don’t say it like that. I’m not tapping anything.” My grin tells him I’m lying.
Dane shakes his head. “You’re totally into her.”
“She’s not into me, so it doesn’t matter. I’m going to fix her moped and then stay out of her way from now on.”
“Wait, didn’t you say you spent the night on the sailboat? Was she with you the whole night?”
“Yeah.”
“Then she said she wasn’t into you? That doesn’t make sense.”
We put in our orders and sit in the beach decorated seating and entertainment while we wait for it to be prepared. Dane’s give me a look and then finally a nudge with his foot. “Keep talking, old man. What did you do?”
“I did fine at first. We were having a fantastic time together, but afterwards I let my emotions get in the way. She stormed off the boat and basically gave me the impression that I screwed up my chance.”
“Do you like her? I mean, do you think you’re ready to move on?”
“I thought so.”
“Dad, no one said it would be easy. You’re always going to think of Mom. It’s not your fault.”
“In this instance it is. I could have been better at hiding my feelings. She thinks I regretted what happened.”
“What happened,” Dane repeats. “Whoa. So what did happen?”
I grin and make eye contact with my son. My hands are clapped in front of me as I lean forward. He’s easy to talk to, and right now I need someone to listen. This isn’t like me to open up, but I’m mad at myself and need som
eone to give it to me straight without ragging on me. “I think you can guess what happened. I took her out and we anchored in the bay. We had fun, and then I messed it up. End of story.”
“And her moped?” Dane asks.
“It was like that when we got back to shore.”
“Jealous boyfriend?”
“Psycho ex-husband,” I correct.
“Damn.” He shakes his head and lets out an air-filled amused laugh. “So the moped is you trying to make amends?”
I open my hands as I speak. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“Which is what? You think fixing her bike will make everything right with the world? You’re really out of practice when it comes to women. It’s going to take a lot more than a new headlight to make her forgive you. First you’ll need to apologize, and actually mean it too. Then you’ll need to give her space and hope to hell she misses you enough to give it another go.”
“How much time are we talking?”
He shrugs. “Shit, I don’t know. Women are crazy. It could be days, weeks, maybe months or years. She probably feels terrible about what happened, like she wasn’t good enough.”
“It wasn’t like that. I enjoyed myself, but a part of me felt like your mother watched the whole ordeal. The idea of breaking her heart tears me up. I can’t shake it, and I know it’s probably not normal, but I don’t want to disappoint her.”
“Mom’s gone. She’s never coming back. I know it hurts. It’s agonizing, but we all have to keep living. She’s not sitting up in the sky judging you for what you’re doing. If everyone believed that we’d all be saints. You have to live.”
“What about you kids? How would it make you feel if someone else was in my life?”
“You know how I feel about it. Our opinions shouldn’t matter. We’re all adults. We can make our own choices. Think of it this way, Dad. If you could have a do-over with Mom how would you go about it? How would you do things differently?”
“I’d spend more time with her. I’d listen when she wanted to talk. We’d be closer friends.”
“If you had a second chance you’d be a better man. That’s what you’re saying. Now, imagine what it would be like if you had the opportunity to be happy with someone else, someone like Perry. She’s here, alive and in Chincoteague, and for some reason she’s interested in your old ass. Show Mom you can be that man. Show her that you learned from your mistakes. She won’t be jealous. She’ll be proud, because her death has taught you how to appreciate what you never worried about before.”
I’m impressed. This is my son, always making me proud. He’s so much like his mother it’s eerie. He gets life. He understands people and how the world spins. He doesn’t get that from me. It’s all Layla. “So you’re saying I should embrace all the things I wished I’d changed with your mother in a new relationship?”
“You’re going to feel guilty. That’s normal. You need to learn how to keep it to yourself. Perry doesn’t need to experience your breakdowns. She probably thinks she’s not good enough.”
“What if I can’t love her the way she deserves?”
“That’s something you’ll have to figure out. My only answer to that is who the hell says how many people we’re allowed to love at once? I’m sure they have different qualities.”
“They do.”
“Focus on that, that’s if she gives you another chance. You screwed up big time. This might be a wasted conversation.”
“Thanks for the pep talk. Now I feel worse.”
“Just talk to her. If you’re both stubborn than it won’t work out.”
I think about Dane’s advice as we enjoy our food and then head back to the moped shop. We give Van his lunch and he only charges me for the parts instead of labor. Small town living has its perks. He caters to tourists to make his money, not the locals he’s known his whole life.
Since I don’t have the keys to the moped, Dane drives me over to Perry’s residence. Her car is parked in the driveway, so I can only assume she’s there. Dane helps me carry the bike to the front sidewalk before leaving me. I’ve assured him I’d walk back if she doesn’t let me inside.
I knock four times, and just about turn around to leave when she finally answers the door. I can already tell from the look in her eyes I’m going to have a lot of work to do.
Chapter 14
I don’t know who I expected to show up on my doorstep next. An early visit from my father has me frustrated and feeling betrayed. Now I have him on my back along with all my other issues currently going on in my life.
Now he’s standing on the opposite side of the screen door assuming I’m going to let him inside. I roll my eyes and begin to shut the storm door on his face. “Go home, Buck.”
He bangs on the door again and again, until I’m ready to hurt him if he doesn’t stop. I open it again. “What the hell do you want?”
Buck moves out of the way so I’m able to see why he’s here. “Thought I’d bring it here for you. I had Van check everything mechanical to make sure nothing was tampered with. The seat is different from the one you had. He said if you don’t like it he can order you the old one. There’s a hidden compartment underneath of it in case you want to take it to the beach and keep your money and keys with the moped.”
“You didn’t have to fix my bike,” I say while coming outside to check at the changes. I’m in shock. It’s not every day a man does something kind for me, though I know he probably feels like an ass for the way last night went. “I appreciate it. I take this bike everywhere. I was trying to figure out how I’d pay for the damages.”
“I know. I figured it was the least I could do after things went downhill this morning.”
I hate being forced to remember. “I get it, Buck. Really I do.”
“No. You might think so, but you don’t.”
“I thought I could do this, but honestly I feel like I deserve more, Buck. I won’t be someone’s consolation prize. It’s not fair to my heart. You’re not ready to move on. I’m not angry with you about it. I’m mad at myself for getting my hopes up.”
He reaches for me, but my reaction is to move backward to keep him from touching me, because I know if it happens I’ll want to throw myself against his chest and welcome those strong arms to hold me tight. “Don’t. Please. I’ve spent the better part of the morning telling myself I can get past this. We’re going to have to see each other around, so it’s important for me to be able to handle it. I need to be able to look at you and not wish we could be something more.”
I can tell this gets to him. Buck is genuine, and if the circumstances were different and I knew he could change I’d go for it, but last night hurt me. I’d held out and waited for him entirely too long to have him regret it.
“What about last night?” He asks.
“Last night was two adults blowing off some steam. Let’s leave it at that, so eventually we can figure out how to be friends.”
“If that’s what you want.”
I conjure a smile, not that it’s anywhere near being genuine. “It is. How much do I owe you for the repairs.”
He waves his hands. “Nothing. It’s on me.” Buck turns and begins walking away from the property. A part of me wants to run after him, but I know I’m too confused to allow him entrance. My heart wants to forgive the man, but my mind tells me I’ll never have what I need from him.
Since I have my moped back, I figure the beach would be a good place to relax. I pack a book bag full of materials, a towel, a book, lotion and a couple waters, then start on my way. I’m nearing the north side of the island when I see a familiar figure walking down Maddox, the main road to Assateague and Buck’s neighborhood.
Against my better judgment, since it’s hot and humid, and I’m not a total jerk, I pull over to the side and wait for him to catch up. “Need a lift?”
“You want to give me a ride? On that thing?”
“I figured you could drive.”
“I thought we weren’t on spea
king terms.”
“I’m headed to the beach. Your house is on the way.”
He seems to be thinking about it. Then looks right at me for a second. My body starts to respond. I look at his hands and remember what it felt like to have them on my body, his mouth reminds me where it’s been. Then I’m lost and utterly high on the idea of being close to him again. “Or you could come with me.”
“You said you needed time away from me.”
“You’re right.” I’m sad he remembered, or maybe that I said it at all.
“I think it’s best if I head home. I’ll walk the rest of the way. It’s healthy.”
“You sure?” The idea of wrapping my arms around him while he drives turns me on. I’m stupid for wanting him again, though unable to stop myself.
“Yeah. Have a nice time. Enjoy your day. I’ll see around, Perry.”
I’m sad as I start my moped and head the rest of the way to the beach. Its still spring so it’s pretty vacant as I make my way through Assateague Park. I stop for a second to pet some wild ponies on the side of the road, and wonder if they’re the same herd I saw on the water’s edge the night before.
When they lose interest in me, I finish my short ride to the beach parking lot. I pull right up to the sand and find a spot away from other people. The breeze is pretty constant, and as I spread my towel and sit down on it I can smell the familiar ocean air. My eyes close for a second as I take in the sounds of the waves as they crash against the shore, and the seagulls flying all around scoping the sand for leftover remnants of food they can scavenge.
I put some tanning lotion on my legs and arms and conform the sand underneath my towel so it’s like a pillow, then rest my head back in hopes of taking a nice nap.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been out. The night before has left me exhausted, and being emotional never helps. The beach isn’t crowded, so the fact that someone is close enough for me to hear them getting situated in the sand bothers me. I sit up, shield my eyes from the bright sun, and search for whoever is invading my personal space.
Salt Water Wounds (Oyster Cove #1) Page 12