Return to Cheshire Bay

Home > Other > Return to Cheshire Bay > Page 4
Return to Cheshire Bay Page 4

by H. M. Shander


  “Where’d you go shopping?” He handled one of the reusable bags with a logo from a small Italian bakery four blocks from my apartment.

  “Houseman’s.”

  The name must’ve been explanation enough as he dropped his questions and brought the bags in behind me. I stopped and stared at the kind gesture, I hadn’t expected him to follow.

  “Sorry. I maybe should’ve asked if you needed a hand.”

  “It’s nice of you to help out.” I put the bags on the counter and started unloading. “When did they switch to a cash only system?”

  Eric was checking out my paint job, but he stopped and spun around. “What? No one ever uses cash.”

  I slammed the fridge after putting in a jug of milk, rattling a stack of Mom’s favourite dishes. I hadn’t thrown everything away. “For real?”

  He stepped back. “Yeah. Who told you that?”

  I shook my head, regretting my desire to get out of Houseman’s rather than speak to a manager. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Next time, I’d go in armed with more cash just to have her think she’d caught me off guard. Even if it was more than that.

  Eric handed me a bag of lettuce. “I’m going to have a few people over tonight and have a fire out on the beach. You’re welcome to come join me. Us, I mean.” The invite lingered in the air.

  A fire would be great, and I certainly enjoyed Eric’s company, but there would be others, and after today… “I don’t know.” I searched his face for answers.

  “If it helps, they’re friends of mine.”

  “Will they remember me?” It was a terrible thing to ask because it sounded like I was self-centered.

  Fifteen years ago, I was a horribly shallow bitch, but no one seemed to understand how that was a long time ago, and sometimes stupid people did selfish things and yet grow up to be decent adults.

  “Unlikely, since most of them are relatively new, as in since we became adults.” He shrugged and passed me a bag of bagels. “Sylvia’s has much nicer, and larger, bagels.”

  “I know, I just forgot.” I stared out my kitchen window, right into the side of Eric’s but I couldn’t bare to look at him.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m just peachy.” I hung my head for a moment to catch my breath and ground myself. Shaking off the pity party building, I turned slowly and inhaled to a count of five. “What do you think of the paint job? Do you think the colour works?”

  His gaze raked me in, but he refocused on the freshly painted wall. “Looks great. This the same colour you used upstairs?”

  “All inside walls have this smoke colour, yep.”

  “I like it.” He stepped around a pile of books and a table full of old knickknacks, nearly falling into the sofa to avoid it all. “What are you doing with this stuff?”

  “Don’t know. I’ll probably pack up most of it since it doesn’t mean anything to me. I tend to be a minimalist and clutter hurts my soul on a level most wouldn’t understand.”

  He laughed. “Don’t take too long a look at my place then.”

  It hadn’t been that bad when I was there. Sure, it was a little cluttered, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Not like how I felt looking at my own living room in its current condition.

  “I assure you, it was fine.”

  A buzzer sounded from the back of his jean pocket. “Oops. I gotta run. I have a charter flight leaving in an hour for Seattle. I’ll be back for the bonfire tonight. While I’m gone, consider joining us?” His offer was so sweet, as was the gentle pleading tone he used. “We’re a tame bunch – too old to truly party it up.”

  That alone tipped the scales in his favour, but I wasn’t about to give in yet. “I’ll think about it.”

  “It’s a start.” He gave me a little wave and the screen door banged as he left.

  Chapter Six

  By time the sun set, I had four boxes packed tightly with useless books and trinkets, and my bookcases were rearranged in an acceptable order, with the correct ratio of stacked books to knickknacks. I stood back and admired the handiwork, taking a picture to send to Beth. With the blinds pulled down, and the ambient lighting in the living room, the area had a soft yet useable appeal to it. A place I could curl up with a book and watch the rolling ocean or entertain a couple of friendly people, should it be raining. Yep, as a whole, I was happy with the way the living room looked. It was starting to feel like a home, and not a vacation home.

  Footsteps jumped up onto my back deck and a knuckle cracked against the frame.

  An image of Parker had suddenly appeared, but I blinked it away and focused. “Eric.”

  My hand fell to my chest as a bolt of adrenaline coursed through my body.

  “Did you give any more thought to coming out? We just got the fire going.” Long gone was the dress shirt and khakis from earlier and in its place, he wore shorts and a V-neck tee. Saturday night bonfire attire.

  “Is it that time already?” Truly, I’d lost track of it while reorganizing items that no longer had much relevance, even Mona wouldn’t want them, and she kept just about everything. “You know, I haven’t even eaten yet.”

  “Perfect. There’s hotdogs and marshmallows.”

  Ew. Marshmallows were gross, but the idea of having a hotdog sounded fantastic. I hadn’t had one in years. I weighed the option of staying inside and avoiding the desire to look outside and spy on my grown-up neighbour, or just sucking up what will be and getting it over with. Eric’s friends were bound to know who I was, and if they didn’t, they would soon enough. Rumours circulated and whispers followed.

  My warring debate would’ve gone on longer if not for the sweet smile plastered on Eric’s chiselled face, and the light lean on my door frame that suggested he could outwait me or find another endearing way of asking. I didn’t deserve the olive branch he was constantly offering, based on the past, but I was thrilled he hadn’t given up. It warmed my heart knowing I had a friend here.

  “Fine. Let me grab a sweater.”

  He waited, and after flipping all lights off but the under the cabinet ones, we descended over to the bonfire well under way.

  “Hey, everyone, this is my neighbour, Lily.”

  I held my breath as I scanned the faces one by one. Either they truly didn’t know who I was, or they didn’t care. A wave of relief washed over me, and I stood beside an empty chair a guy opened as I approached.

  “Go ahead,” Eric said, pointing to the space, as he introduced his buddies. “This is Mitch and his girlfriend Cedar.” He walked behind them and squeezed their shoulders. “Cedar works at the check-in gate at the airport and has amazing knowledge about the area, so just ask if you need something. Mitch is the mechanic who services my plane. He’s also the baggage handler and all-around minion who just happens to be my best friend.” A loving expression warmed his face.

  I glanced up to Eric. “You have your own plane?”

  How cool was that?

  Even with the glow from the flames, a new colour tinged his cheeks. “Don’t get too excited. It’s only a six-seater, twin-prop Cessna. And an older model to boot. That’s why I need a great mechanic like Mitch here.”

  “Still, that’s pretty nifty.”

  Cedar laughed and tugged on one of her side braids. “Nifty. I like that word. It should be used more often.” Her smile was infectious.

  “This is Jesse, the local mortician.” Eric stepped another spot over to the lone gentleman. “He moved here a few years back and lives two doors away from me, three from you.” He pointed down the beach.

  “Oh, that way.” I laughed, only because I was the last house at the end of the lane.

  It made Eric grin too. “Yeah.” He winked at me and asked Jesse. “Is Jenna coming?”

  “Nah. She’s not feeling well.” But he didn’t make eye contact and grabbed for a hot dog stick.

  “Next time.”

  “Maybe.” He squirmed in his chair and positioned the stick over the fire.

  Eric moved
around the growing bonfire to the other couple, the last of the group. “And this is Willow and her husband Arlo.”

  “Do you work at the airport too?” I asked since Eric hadn’t volunteered any information.

  “Not at all.” Willow spoke first. “Arlo owns the bait and tackle shop on the wharf, and I’m a midwife.”

  Eric chuckled. “See, I told you it would be good for you to come.” He moved a camping chair closer to me.

  “A midwife?” I didn’t know what that was and looked around hoping someone would fill me in.

  “I help women birth their babies.”

  “Oh, like an obstetrician.” Which reminded me again to locate one, as I was close to needing a check up.

  She crossed her legs and leaned forward. “Similar, but I help them birth in their homes. Birth doesn’t have to be a medical event, it’s a very natural part of life.”

  “I agree.”

  However, the idea of a homebirth didn’t appeal at all. It had to be messy, and all the new mother needed was to clean up after just given birth. No wonder I’d never heard of her profession. It didn’t sound ideal at all.

  “And she gives extensive prenatal care too,” her husband piped up, the pride oozing through his words. “None of those thirty second appointments like you’d get with a doctor. Willow’s appointments take thirty minutes at least.”

  I stared at her, trying to hide my curiosity. “How long does it take to stick a finger up my insides and tell me to come back in a month?”

  Because that was all my doctor back home did. Oh, and he added everything was textbook. Didn’t need a thirty-minute appointment for that.

  She chuckled, a sweet melodic sound. “Oh, we don’t even do an internal exam unless we think its necessary. Mostly we talk. Discuss the emotional aspects, the physical changes, and go over any questions you have. It’s really a no pressure visit.”

  “It sounds… well…” Definitely different. “Like it’s something to consider while I’m here.”

  It wasn’t something I was going to explore right here on the beach, but if I couldn’t find an OB in the area, I’d consider giving her a call. Poor Beth would roll her eyes at the idea of me giving birth in my living room, if it ever got to that, which was highly unlikely since I’d planned on being back home before that became reality.

  “Hungry?” Eric passed me a raw hotdog already stabbed onto a stick.

  I took it, my fingers grazing his as I did and looked deep into his eyes. “Starving.”

  Time hadn’t erased the ability to properly cook a hotdog over an open flame, and when it was cooked to perfection, I wrapped a bun around it and slid it off.

  A container of condiments came my way, and I shook my head. Instead, I took a hearty bite. And it was so good. A river of grease escaped my lips, and Eric pointed it to and hesitated as if he wanted to wipe it himself. Instead, I reached for a napkin and dabbed it myself while I continued to gaze upon him as the bonfire cast flickers of light and shadows across his face.

  Silently, he passed me a can of coke, his fingers touching mine longer than need be, although I wasn’t going to complain.

  Sitting around the fire had been everything I hadn’t known I needed. I wasn’t aware how much I longed for the connection that came from deep belly laughter and great company until I was snorting from an off-colour joke Mitch told, and playfully grabbing Eric’s arm as I tried to catch my breath.

  When the stars started twinkling, Arlo brought out his guitar and plucked out a few songs for us. We didn’t sing along, but it was peaceful listening to his fingers strum. Clearly, the way he played, he wasn’t a beginner, and I knew most of the traditional songs he hummed along to, but the folksier ones were new.

  The time ticked on as the full moon cast shadows along the beach, and the fire died down to glowing embers. It was well past midnight, and time to bid adieu to the small beach party.

  “Time to call it a night,” Willow declared and folded her and Arlo’s chairs. “It was lovely meeting you.”

  Her hug reminded me of the kind you’d give an old friend, long and lingering with a touch of comfort. I didn’t want to let go.

  “Stay safe and peace out,” Arlo said, packing his guitar. He wrapped a hand around his wife’s waist, and the two of them disappeared between our homes.

  Mitch collapsed his chair and helped a tipsy Cedar out of hers. All the way to their vehicles, her giggle echoed off the houses, and only when it was silent, did I suspect she was safely tucked into Mitch’s vehicle.

  Jesse said goodnight, and shuffled down the beach to his place, which was indeed, only two down from Eric’s.

  I assisted Eric in putting out the fire, making sure the coals were extinguished. The cool ocean waves lapped at my feet as I scooped up a bucket of water and a deep sizzling sound escaped the fire when I poured it over top. In the light of the moon, smoke trails shot towards the heavens.

  “Thanks for inviting me tonight.” I walked beside Eric up to the dry sand stretching across the ocean-facing part of our homes.

  “I’m so glad.”

  “It was nice to not be reminded of who I was.” And for a few hours, to not even have thought about it.

  “They’re good people and they were once crazy teenagers too. We all were, and we all grew up.”

  “Did they all live here too?” We all seemed to be about the same age, but I didn’t recognize them. Truly, my teenage years were a wasteland of selfishness and ignorance.

  “Willow and Arlo were born and raised here, and Mitch is from the other side, near Nanaimo, same as Jesse. Cedar grew up on a commune in the northern part of the island.”

  Of course, they were all islanders. I was the odd one out. The city girl.

  “You did fine, Lily.” Eric stopped walking and stared at me. “Stop worrying so much.”

  “I wasn’t worrying.” Much.

  He stood so close, but I wasn’t frightened. At least not in a bad way. I was worried Eric had read too much into my playfulness, as the moonlight bathed his face in a soft glow, and there was a twinkle in his eye.

  At least my instincts weren’t wrong, and Eric leaned his face in, but I put my hand on his chest to stop him.

  “I can’t.” I lowered my head and took a step back, even though the rush of imagining his lips on mine was strong. “I’m sorry.” I rubbed my tummy as a reminder.

  There would be no romance, there couldn’t even be what I was known for best back in the day - a quick romp in the hay.

  “That’s fine.”

  Waves rolled against the beach and washed back out to sea, and in the distance an owl hooted.

  Eric cast his gaze down and kicked at the sand. “I understand.”

  “Thank you.” I inhaled sharply, not wanting to leave him.

  The timing was all wrong for anything to develop between us. A few months back, maybe? I took another step up into my place, my hand slowly trialing on the banister, a deep longing building in my gut. It didn’t matter how Eric had showed more compassion towards me in my short time here than anyone else… It couldn’t work.

  My mouth hung open; there was much I wanted to explain, and more I should apologize for, but the words failed to come out of my lips. “Goodnight.”

  A sadness filled my soul and the deep longing throbbed without release.

  Eric deserved better than the likes of me. He deserved someone who hadn’t run afoul of the law.

  Chapter Seven

  A week after the beach party, aside from the upper deck, I had transformed my house into something I could live in, and a place I truly loved. Long gone were the ancient pictures and tacky fillers. I’d filled the back of my Jeep up three times with items and hauled them off to the reuse center in Spirit Bay. Thanks to the internet, I’d even ordered couch covers, and for a fraction of the cost of replacing the furniture, I was able to update them with a whole new look.

  I placed a tarp out on the sand and pinned it into place, and mentally prepped myself for extract
ing the kitchen table from the house and out onto my temporary workspace. I had it all planned out, and knew exactly how to wiggle it out, without removing the table legs as I was trying to save myself some time. Plus, I checked how they were attached, and some sort of super glue must’ve been used. There were only the flat tops of a nail head visible, and not a nice screw head like the one in my apartment had.

  I dragged the table out, but it caught on something inside, likely the end of the counter. I tried to push it back in but could only move it so far. The table weighed more than I did, and it was difficult at best. Despite my best grunts and snorts, the damn thing seemed to be firmly lodged in the door.

  “Son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Everything okay over there?” Eric’s voice was sleepy yet rugged.

  “Just fine.” I shook it with all my strength, which wasn’t much anymore. With a heavy sigh, I stepped back and wiped the sweat off my brow. What the hell was I going to do now?

  Eric came out onto his back deck in his pajamas; a white top and checkered bottoms. His hair was matted down on one side in a charming and endearing manner. He walked to the edge of his deck and looked over into mine. “Did you get it stuck?”

  My focus returned to the now permanent door stop. “Nope. Just needed a break from taking it outside.” A laugh tainted my words, but a minor ache stretched across my lower belly, and I instinctively cradled my belly.

  In a heartbeat, he stood on my porch barefooted, and stared at my expanding waistline. His smile dropped to the floor. “Everything okay?”

  The pain subsided, and I replaced the grimace with a smile. “Just fine.”

  Thankfully, once I gave the table an attempted shake, his grin reappeared.

  “Ah, you got it wedged in there good and tight, I see.” He stretched, and I stole a peek at the tight abs as his shirt lifted a teasing amount.

 

‹ Prev