Bee is anxious to get out and relieve herself, but I’m not ready to walk through the doors of this house yet. I pull away before I’m spotted lurking. Instead we venture to the beach. Normally she wouldn’t be allowed, but I know the rangers and it’s too cold for tourists. Besides, I’ll take her to the side where there aren’t much rules or lifeguards.
Bee has never seen the ocean. At first she stands on a mound of sand and takes in the scenery. She studies the water, watching each wave come in and trickle down to nothing. The sun is peeking out of some heavy clouds making it glisten against the water in the distance. While I take in a place I missed being around, she makes a beeline for the water. At first she seems to struggle, but finally times it just right. I sit down and watch her frolic in the shallow parts. She jumps around and then runs out, only to go back and repeat the steps. I’m laughing at her enjoying herself, reminiscing on the last time I came here with Brice.
We used to surf on the weekends. We’d get up before daybreak and be out when the sun rose against the skyline. We’d also come in the evenings and cook on a campfire right near this spot on the beach. Knowing the park employees has it’s perks. We spent a couple nights curled up in one sleeping bag, doing things that could probably get us arrested if the right authorities stumbled upon us. Another smile exhibits at the thought.
“I miss you, babe,” I say as the wind whips. “Every single day.”
A fist of sand keeps me occupied. I ball it up and then let it fall, over and over, like Brice used to do when she was listening to me talk. I used to ask her if she somehow used it to time our conversations, like a shrink would normally do. She’d toss the sand at me and I’d end up chasing her around until we tumbled and started making out. Those were the days I’ll cherish. Even before we were officially a couple.
Bee is soaked when we get back in the truck. It’s not too cold, so I decide to put her in the back until she’s able to shake off and dry. I take my time leaving Assateague and head back to Chincoteague. As soon as I’m off the bridge I come to the local diner and the old motel with a bar. Since Bee smells like a sea creature, and the local hotels don’t welcome pets, my option to clean her off before going to Oyster Cove is to get a room. I figure I can shower, and give her a bath, then grab a few beers while she dries in the room. A fat burly man is at the front desk. He has to clear his voice three times before he’s able to welcome me. It reeks of stale cigarette smoke and either a steak sub, or bad body odor. I’m not certain I want to know.
He gives me a second floor room and tells me the time of check out in the morning. I doubt I’ll be sleeping in this shit hole, so I don’t really pay attention.
Bee and I enter the room and immediately head to the bathroom. I’d carried in my knapsack full of a change of clothes and some essentials like toiletries. Bee follows me into the bathroom and proceeds to join me in the shower. Picture a now hundred pound dog and a grown man in a shower tub combination. I’m wedged in a corner while she wags her thick tail around that’s still caked with sand. Deciding it would be in both our favors if I wash her first, I start the task. She has a lot of hair. It’s tough to wash her, and it takes way more than sample size shampoos to get it done. Lucky for me I planned ahead. I pull out the large bottle of men’s scented shampoo and lather her up. Then I take my time rinsing her and making sure I don’t feel remnants of sand that might itch her later. We sleep in the same bed, so I appreciate her being as clean as possible. It’s probably why she loves to get baths. She gets them often.
When she’s done I dry her off with a towel, close the bathroom door and let her shake while I hop back in the shower praying the water stays hot. I know I’m not technically at Oyster Cove, but I’m back on the island. It feels nice. A part of me is eager to see my family. I understand subjects are going to be touchy, and I’m going to have moments where I need to step away to gather composure. I’ve had a year and a half to prepare. It’s sort of like I went on a sabbatical. In many ways I left to find myself. Maybe I did. Maybe I’m still the same exact person who left. It doesn’t matter. I’m back. Only time will tell if it’s permanently. I could go back to Alaska and build that cabin easily. I’d have to work less and would have a fresh start, or I could be here where every memory was made.
Showered and dressed, I make sure Bee has been fed before walking over to the motel bar. I know I could drink for free at my step-mother’s tavern, but I sort of need to prepare for seeing them. Planning on sitting alone, I walk in and immediately take a seat at the bar. There are several patrons already spread out. I scan the room and take in the characters I’m sharing the room with. Most probably live here. It’s not the best place. When I was younger we’d sneak in here and get served. They’ve since changed hands, so I have no idea what kind of crowds they attract, but from what I can tell it’s not the locals who frequent Alice’s bar.
A female bartender is shuffling around a couple boxes from behind a see through door. I can tell they’re full of cases of beer from the clanking of the bottles. While she’s preoccupied, I check out the selections on tap to see if they offer any local brews or lagers. I’m not surprised the selections are limited. Reserved to drink whatever is available I wait to be served.
I’m staring down at my phone when her palms flatten on the surface in front of me. My eyes lift until I’m looking at a ghost.
This can’t be. The resemblance is uncanny. I close my eyes and look again, thinking the stress of my trip mixed with fear has got me seeing things.
The females mouth opens, her eyes as wide as mine. “No way. It can’t be.”
I know that voice. As it pieces together I come to grips with what I’m seeing. She’s changed her appearance, but then so have I. My face is covered in a beard and I could use a haircut. It’s obvious she’s just as shocked as I am. “Kimber?”
“West?”
She takes a step back and seems to be worried. “When did you get back?”
“A couple hours ago.”
“How did you find me?”
Of course she thinks I’m in this bar because I’m looking for her. Why else would anyone think I’d avoid the one my own family owns. “I wasn’t looking for you. Just wanted a drink before the big reunion.”
There’s an awkward silence. It’s weird, because for the past year I’ve been getting letters from this girl, but she’s acting like a stranger. “I just assumed…” she says while looking away at the other patrons. “What can I get you?”
“Got anything local?”
She nods. “I have some stuff in the back.” With that she disappears, only coming back with a cold bottle with a familiar label. “Is this good?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
She nods, but walks away, almost like being around me makes her uncomfortable. I snicker to myself and start drinking, because let’s face it, I have no idea what to say to her, and talking about Brice is off limits.
Kimber stays at the opposite end of the bar, talking to the people as if she knows them personally. Two old men seem to be flirting with her, while she refills their drinks with a friendly smile.
Either her entire appearance has changed, or I’m seeing things. She looks like her sister, but at the same she doesn’t. Her hair is much longer, and she’s way too thin. She could stand to put on some weight. Where she used to have an olive complexion is now almost as white as the Alaskan snow. She’s got circles under her eyes, and I swear she seems melancholy. Maybe it’s because I’m here, but something tells me this is her life now.
There were times when I treated her like shit. She was always trying to interfere with plans I’d make with her sister. She’d call when we were having a moment, or give me one of her famous eye rolls when I’d make a comment about her growing up. It’s like I’m staring at the shell of that person. As much as I’m still bitter about the night of the accident, I pity the person I’m looking at. She’s still attractive, but the past year and a half haven’t been good to her, I’d bet my life on it.
> Chapter 19
Kimber
This isn’t happening right now. Weston Wallace isn’t sitting at my bar having a drink. He’s not looking at me right now with skepticisms. I’m imagining all of this. I have to be.
The letters. All those stupid stories I sent to him were a mistake. I shouldn’t have poured my heart out to a man who never gave two shits about me. Now I’m forced to stand behind this bar embarrassed. He probably thinks I’m insane. It’s bad enough I know he doesn’t like me. Now it’s ten times worse.
When he waves for another drink I saunter over and grab the same beverage before sitting it in front of him. “Did you want some peanuts?”
“Have guys like that had their hands in them?”
A light laugh escapes me. “Um, no. I’d get you a fresh pack of them. They’re bagged.”
“Then yeah, that’ll be great.”
I have to remind myself to remain professional. He’s here to drink, not have a hear to heart with me. When I deliver the bag of peanuts I start to walk away. It’s better if I keep my distance. He reaches over and takes me by my wrist. “Kimber wait.”
Our eyes meet and I can tell this is just as uncomfortable for him. “Do you need something else?”
“Are you okay?” I’m surprised he wants to know. He has no reason to care.
“Sure. Just peachy.”
West shakes his head. “Come on, kid. Be real with me. Why are you working in this place?”
I lean forward so others won’t hear. I never know when my perverted boss is listening on his cheap ass black and white cameras he’s got posted in every corner. “I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you, West. I can work here, or leave town for a job. Everyone hates me. This is as good as it gets for me.”
His face contorts like he’s disturbed. “You can do better than this.”
“This pays the bills. I work nights and sleep during the day. It’s not so bad. I keep to myself and everyone goes on with their lives. What’s the big deal? Didn’t you move to Alaska to avoid what’s left for you here?”
My words come out before I can think of the damage they’ll do. He clenches his jaw. I recognize it immediately. While he paid little attention to me in the past, I used to watch him like a hawk. He stole my sister’s heart, so I wanted to know why. Of course it was obvious. He’s a great man. He was devoted to making her happy. I’m jealous of the love they got to experience, especially because I know I’ll never have that in my life.
I shake my head before he can answer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
He cuts me off. “No. It’s fine. I suppose it’s true. The town is too small sometimes.”
“Yeah. Don’t I know it.”
“So where are you staying?”
He’s trying to be nice and talk to me. It’s kind. I haven’t had a conversation with someone I knew for a long time. Avoiding people has become my specialty. “I live here at the motel. I even get a discount for being an employee.”
“Bullshit. There’s no way your father would allow it.”
I smirk and manage a half smile. He doesn’t know the half of it. “I haven’t spoken to that man for months. After I tried to take my life, good old Dad gave up on me.”
This seems to really affect West. His grimace is sympathetic, and while he searches for what to say next I have a sudden urge to close up shop and lock myself in my efficiency apartment until I know he’s gone.
“Why would you think killing yourself would solve things?”
“Why would living in this hell be better?” I’m frank when I say it. “I literally have nothing. I have a car, which I lived out of until I had enough money to stay here. My family stopped caring about me a long time ago. They blame me for everything. My own mother doesn’t even ask what I do for a living. This job is my life. I mind my business and keep to myself, because it’s better than being stared at and talked about. Brice was the town shrink. I’m just her nobody sister.” Tears form in my eyes. West looks away for a second, but when his expression returns it’s calm. “Thank you for the letters.”
I’m speechless. The address was right. He’s gotten them. When West walked in here today he already knew I’ve been struggling. I suppose he didn’t know how bad it was. “I shouldn’t have sent them.”
He folds his hands as he continues. “I’ve got to be honest. I threw the first forty to fifty away.”
When he says the number I cringe. It’s embarrassing. I was so desperate for someone to talk to. Of course he didn’t want anything to do with them. Little does he know that every story I sent him is also in my journal. I kept a copy to be able to remind me of the happy times with Brice. It’s like I’m writing a memoir of her precious life. “That many, huh?”
“It took me a while to open one. You need to understand I…”
I hold my hand up. “I get it. We were never friends, West. It was a stupid move, but writing them helped me remember her. They bring me a sense of peace, and I was only sending them to you in hopes that they’d help you too. I never meant to be offensive or seem like I was stalking you.”
He laughs. “How did you get the address?”
I shrug. He’s going to flip. “I sort of used my key to go through your mail.”
“I’ll be needing that key back, you know.”
It’s not what I want to hear. It would be nice to have an ally, but I’m crazy to think it can be West. “Sure. I’ll put it in the your mailbox, unless you want it now? I can run and get it.”
“No rush.”
“Now that you’re back I guess I no longer have a pen-pal, not that you ever wrote back.”
“Yeah, I still don’t know what to say. This is pretty awkward. I was mad for a long time. I left because I couldn’t deal with it. I’m only back because I promised my dad I’d visit. They’re worried about me.”
“You’re lucky, West. You have a big family to come home to.”
I turn away from his lingering gaze. I can feel my throat tightening up and my palms becoming sweaty. I’m alone. Completely alone.
“You know, your sister wouldn’t want you living like this.”
I nod, the tears welling in my eyes. When I look up he sees what this conversation is doing to me. “I miss her so much.”
He nods. “Yeah. I get it.”
Suddenly I feel the need to explain things. “That night…” Someone at the other end of the bar is calling for me. “Hey, sweet thing, get me another round.”
I excuse myself from the conversation, wipe my eyes and start to get the men refills. They’ve been here for hours. One of them has had at least ten beers. He’s slurring his words and being verbal about the things he’d like to do to me if I gave him the chance. His two friends aren’t much better. They eye me up as I serve them, and when the last glass of draft brew slides across the counter he grabs my arm, forcing me to still. I attempt to jerk away but he’s much stronger. “Give me one night. I’ll do things to that little body of yours. I bet you taste like honey.”
Before I know what’s happening I hear West from the opposite end of the bar. “Get your hands off her.” He’s walking in their direction, and from the look on his face he’s going to make sure they listen. If I know anything about the Wallace crew it’s that they like getting into fights. The jerk’s two friends stand up to block West from getting closer. “Mind your business,” one of them says.
West glances at me, and then back at the two guys. “You really want to do this, because I can promise I won’t be the one hurting tomorrow.”
“Take your ass out of here, boy,” the other threatens.
“Last chance. Take your hands off the lady and walk on out of here.”
One of the men lunges at West. He slides out of the way and watches the guy stumble and trip to the floor. His friend reacts by shoving West. He recovers and takes the same dude by the collar, cocking his arm back and jabbing him directly in the nose. The snap can be heard over the music playing at a low volume. The guy grabs his face as the
blood begins to pour out. West turns to address the friend who is thinking about getting revenge for his buddy. West gives him another warning. “Why don’t you take your friend out of here before I make you twins?”
“Fuck you.” He cracks his knuckles like it’s supposed to scare West. I can tell it only amuses him. He seems to like this.
Finally the jerk who has ahold of me lets go. He stands up and heads in West’s direction. It’s going to be two on one. I take the bat we keep behind the bar and whip around the counter to help out. In that amount of time West has taken out the first guys knees and sent him to the ground. Then, as the jerk who had me approaches, he kicks the kneeling one in the face and punches the jerk. Broken nose dude helps his friend stand with his one free arm. West waits and watches, like none of them are any kind of threat. I make my way over to the man who started all of this and point the bat at his face. “Get your ass out of my bar!”
He curses, but leaves, without paying the tab. It’s at least sixty dollars that I’ll have to make up for. If that couldn’t be bad enough, the manager comes barging in with fire in his eyes. “What the hell is going on here?”
West shakes his hand and points toward where the men exited. “Those men were threatening her.”
He looks me over, then motions toward the door. “I think it’s time you paid your tab and left out of here.”
I’m only able to quickly glance back at West, who is not pleased with the way things are headed. I’m getting yelled at for losing customers, all while Weston Wallace watches and judges me for the catastrophe of what’s left of my future.
I can’t fight this man. I have to listen and apologize. A lot is riding on me being compliant.
Waves of Despair: Oyster Cove Series Page 11