Fading Memories

by A. M. Willard

  Examining him as he heads back inside, I know now that I’m in uncharted waters. The shirt leaves nothing to my imagination as it bunches with his movement. Maybe this was a bad idea. I need to figure this out before I do something I may regret. It’s been over fourteen months since I’ve had sex, and I can hear Kelsey and Leah telling me to jump on the horse.

  I jump from his voice. “Found them. Hand me the bottle.”

  “Oh, yeah, here.” Even sitting here watching him pour the wine is causing my chest to rise and fall faster. The faint smell of a crisp soap passes with the breeze and I inhale the aroma around me. Stop it, Izzie, I mentally repeat to myself.

  “Thanks,” I say as he hands me my glass.

  “Welcome.”

  “I really wanted to say that I’m sorry for my behavior. I don’t know what came over me. Usually, I don’t act that crazy. Well, I can be a bitch, but I don’t go out of my way to show it,” I explain as I stare at the rails on the deck, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

  “Izzie, look at me. It’s okay, I accept and we’ll look past it. I really didn’t mean any harm this evening.”

  “Just that easy?” I ask as I look up at him lying back in the lounge chair next to me. His long legs are stretched out and his feet are crossed at the ankles.

  “Yes, that easy. Is that so hard for you to comprehend, that someone can move past something that easily?”

  “Usually, Dakota, people try to hold grudges. So, yes it’s hard to believe.”

  “I have a perfect idea. How about we start over?”

  “Start over? What do you mean?”

  “Hi, I’m Dakota. I just moved in next door,” he says and reaches out to shake my hand.

  With a smile, I take his hand into mine and squeeze it ever so gently. “Very pleased to meet you, Dakota. I live … right there,” I say with a nod toward my cottage.

  Gripping my hand a little firmer, he pulls it to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on top of it. This small gesture sends an electric current up my arms and out my feet. Stunned, I don’t even pull my hand back, which should’ve been my natural reaction. His lips are soft and moist against my flesh giving me an idea of what they would feel like on my body.

  Dakota must’ve felt it also; his whole demeanor’s changed. I yank my hand from his and lean back into the chair. Staring out back, I sip from the glass as I process the change of events.

  Deciding to be the one to break the silence, I say, “It’s beautiful out here, don’t you think?”

  “It is. I wanted a place where I could just relax. I didn’t even see the place in person, just a few pictures the realtor sent. Put an offer on it right away and here I am.”

  “What makes you so happy with it so far?”

  “The view, and how it’s secluded enough for me to get the peace I was seeking. Most of all, it’s this crazy neighbor that lives next door.”

  Certainly was not expecting that one. “Dakota, you just met me. I’m sure once you witness all my sides, you’ll change your mind. I wouldn’t unpack all those boxes just yet. You never know, that wicked witch from the beach could run you off. She’s got a habit of doing it,” I say with a playful flirty voice.

  “You can try to run me off, but I hate to break it to you, I’m staying, not going anywhere. Plus, how do you know I’m talking about you? It could be the old lady next to you.”

  “We’ll see, and I’m pretty sure Mrs. Jacobs is out of your league.”

  “Are you always so skeptic of everyone?”

  “No, not usually. But lately, yes.” I shrug.

  “What do you enjoy doing, Izzie?”

  “I love to read and teach. Even took up sailing with my ex, Peter, a while back, but I haven’t had the time to venture back into it. I go with a few friends from school every now and then.”

  “I know you aren’t ready to talk about the stuff that makes you Izzie. I do hope you will open up to me soon enough. You know, I could get your mind off that ex,” he says with a handsome smirk.

  “Maybe one day, Dakota, maybe one day. So what about you, what do you enjoy?”

  “I don’t like reading unless I have to,” he says, laughing. “I’ve been sailing a few times on the Hudson River and I’m surprised you enjoy it. Doesn’t seem like something you’d enjoy. Full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?”

  “Sometimes I can throw a good blow out there. I’ve done a few regattas here and there. What else?”

  “I love to draw and design things. Taking someone’s idea and turning it into a masterpiece. It makes me feel how I assume Michelangelo did when he painted the Sistine Chapel—content, happy.”

  “What exactly do you do?”

  “I’m a graphic designer. I worked with my brother, David, for years, but we kind of had a difference of opinion lately. Plus, I needed a change of pace, that’s why I moved here.”

  “I take it since you’ve sailed on the Hudson River you’re from the New York area?”

  “Grew up in Briarcliff Manor, New York, received my Bachelor of Fine Arts at Berkeley, lived and worked in Manhattan before I sold my loft and moved here to Tybee Island.”

  “Wow, so you’re a city boy then,” I say with a chuckle.

  “Yes, I guess you can call me a city boy if you want.”

  “Yep …” I say, adding emphasis to the end to make a pop sound.

  “What about you?” he asks.

  “Born and raised right here, went to Armstrong University. I’m pretty boring.”

  “I find you very attractive, Izzie, and want to know more about you.”

  After a quick glance in his direction, I turn back toward the water. “Well, that’ll have to come in time. I’m only here as a peace offering tonight.”

  As I try to get to know Dakota a little, I find myself questioning my interest. Then the other part of me wants to know more about him, and even though I know I shouldn’t get attached to someone like him, it’s just easy to let my guard down around him. He makes it so easy that I need to stop and think before I spill it all. The need to bare it all, and show him the pieces of my heart that I carry around, is persistent.

  “Dakota, it’s been a lovely evening after all, but I do need to head home. Thanks for the help today and for accepting my apologies,” I say quickly as I stand.

  “No reason to hurry off, the night’s still young. We could have another glass of wine or something.”

  “No … No, I’m tired and it’s going to be another long day tomorrow. You need some rest as well. Maybe we can do it again sometime, as friends.”

  “Sounds right, plus I’ve got some work to complete.”

  “Goodnight Dakota,” I say as I turn to walk down the stairs toward my place.

  “Night Izzie,” I hear from behind me.

  Once I’m safely inside and have the kitchen cleaned, I start to feel the fatigue in my muscles. Deciding to draw a bath, I head in that direction.

  With the handle turned to as hot as I can stand and the bubbles rising in the tub, I slink down into the water. Hints of vanilla and honey engulf my senses. It’s calming and exactly what I need tonight. My muscles relax instantly as my body welcomes it. Immediately, I’m taken back to one of the last baths I shared with Peter.

  I came home to Peter after a long day of teaching and parent teacher conferences and noticed candles lit in the living room, Mozart playing in the background, and dinner on the stove. I wrapped my hands around Peter’s waist and placed a kiss on his neck.

  “Hi, what’s all this for?”

  “Nothing unusual, you’ve been working and have had a lot on your plate with your Dad. I just wanted to do something special for you tonight. You’re always taking care of everyone else, thought it be nice to do something for you. Now, go get undressed. I drew you a bath. The water might be a little cold so you may need to warm it up some. Once you’re done, I’ll have dinner ready for us.”

  “You drew me a bath, huh? That’s sweet, and a first. You sure everything is good?”


  “Yes, Izzie. Don’t look into it, just go relax.”

  “I’m going, and thank you, Peter,” I said as I turned to walk out of the kitchen, and then I stopped to tell him that I loved him. I didn’t hear if he responded, but I knew he did. As I opened the door to our master bathroom, the smell of vanilla and honey overtook my senses. I let the water drain a little, and turned the faucet all the way hot to replace the missing water. I slid out of my clothes and stepped into our huge tub. Some nights, when Peter worked late, I’d just sit and relax in that thing. But that night, as I tried to relax, my mind kept going over the meaning behind his gesture. He’d never done anything like that, so it was out of his nature. Criticizing myself for not just accepting it, I made a mental note to thank him.

  Opening my eyes, I realize now that it was the last night Peter and I were together. It was the calm before the storm, when he decided to turn my world upside down. A week later, I moved back home to care for my sick father.

  A shiver runs through my body. The water has turned cold, and I look at my pruned body. Raising the latch to the drain, I step out of the freezing water and dry off. After dressing in my pajamas, I slide under the blankets and remember that I need to send a text to Kelsey.

  Me: FYI… I went next door and called a truce. We enjoyed a little chit chat and some wine. My new nickname is Wicked Witch from the Beach…

  Kelsey: Thank You! Glad you got your head out of your ass, now stay there. LOVE the name. I might kiss him for that one.

  Me: LOL… No kissing is allowed. Night.

  Not waiting for her response, I toss the phone down next to me and allow slumber to overcome me, confident enough that tonight will only provide me welcomed dreams.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SOMEHOW, I’D MANAGE to sleep in, enjoy a few cups of coffee, and still no sign of Dakota today. I keep catching myself looking in that direction and then chastise myself for feeling the pull to see him. It doesn’t matter if I’m in the sunroom, dining room, or living room, I find a way to peek outside. Nothing, no signs of life whatsoever. On the way out to my car, I almost walk over to casually say good morning, just to throw him off. Instead, I’m heading to the hardware store for more paint. Since we did such a fantastic job on the sunroom, it’s time I move inside. The painters have been contacted for the outside and will start tomorrow, leaving me to focus on the interior.

  The guy behind the paint counter is mixing my colors of seafoam green and coral. These are the colors I’ve chosen for the kitchen and dining area. Now, figuring out which color for which room seems to be to hardest decision. While waiting for the paint to be mixed, I start walking around in search of curtains. I’m not even sure if they will have the ones I need for the bedroom, but I figure I’ll kill the time and look.

  With my arms crossed over my chest trying to pick the ones I want, my mind wanders to thoughts of Dakota. What brought this on, I don’t have the slightest clue. This man has somehow dug his way into my thoughts and has been all up in my face since day one. Then today, nothing. Is he giving me space? Maybe he’s doing as I asked, but I find it hard to believe that he’s the type of man who listens. Accepting the fact that he’s probably just unpacking, I move along to pick out the new curtains.

  With drapes not only for the bedroom but also the dining area—I even threw in a few new rugs—my little car is loaded down with my new purchases, and I can’t wait to get home and slap the paint up.

  In my driveway, I strain my neck to look over at Dakota’s place. His car’s parked, but the drapes are closed and there’s no sign of him anywhere. God, Izzie, you’re going insane here. Why are you even looking? You know you don’t want a relationship.

  Balancing an arm full of stuff, I drop it all off at the doorway and stand in the open space. It hits me all at once where I want the colors. Just for good measure, I slide my phone out from my pocket and text Kelsey and Leah.

  Me: Pick one, sea foam green or coral? Kitchen or dining room?”

  Kelsey: Green kitchen, coral dining room.

  Leah: Coral kitchen and green dining room.

  Of course, neither one of them can pick the same colors. Why make it easy for me?

  Me: You guys totally suck and are no help.

  I toss my phone to the table and prop myself up against the counter, curious about who could be the deciding factor. I tap the side of my temple a few times and fumble with my lips. Making the final decision myself, I’ve picked the coral for the kitchen and the sea foam green for the other.

  Happy that’s over. The outside choices were simple: the same white, but the old yellow shutters will now be a navy blue, and the red paint I purchased yesterday will accent the front door perfectly. I was going to endure the heat and do this myself, but Kelsey and Leah talked me into hiring a contractor, knowing I would start and then call it quits. Now my focus can stay on the interior and the smaller stuff.

  With a mouth full of water, I inhale it down the wrong pipe and choke on it. Why, do you ask? One word: Dakota. He pops up from the dune, drenched in water, his trunks hanging low on his hips. I cough again to catch my breath, and he turns and heads in my direction.

  “You okay? Can you breathe?” he asks as he pats my back.

  “Yes,” I manage to get out.

  “Here, drink some water,” he says and hands me my glass.

  As I take a slow sip, I peek over the rim of my glass at him. Then I say, “Thanks, I’m okay. Just went down the wrong pipe is all.”

  “Good thing I was on my way back up to the house. I’d have hated for you to choke with no one around,” he says with a sexy half-smile on his face.

  “Ha… Ha… How are you today, Dakota? Are you getting settled?”

  “I’m better now and yes, I am getting settled some. How are you? I saw you left early today.”

  “I had to get more paint. Why are you better now, did you enjoy your swim?” As soon as I ask, something tells me that I don’t want to know the answer to this question.

  “I finally get to see you and save your life. Why do you need more paint? Thought we finished yesterday.”

  “Saved my life, indeed?”

  “Yes, I saved your life. You owe me now.” Smirking at me, he grabs the towel I have folded up by the screen door.

  “I owe you nothing, but you will owe me a dry towel, mister. Oh, and I needed paint for the kitchen and dining area.”

  “You should take a break and relax.”

  “I am relaxing. Plus I have a thing to get ready for. After that, I’ll take the rest of the summer off.” As I finish, I cross my arms over my chest defensively. Not sure why I feel defensive all of a sudden, but I do. It could be that he’s half naked, dripping wet, and claiming to have saved my life.

  “Ahh … So, when are you going to start today? Are the girls coming to help?”

  “Soon and no. It’s just me today.”

  Turning to open the screen door, he stops and looks back at me. He doesn’t say a word, just a quick wink, a smirk, and just like that, he’s off and I have no idea what’s going through his head. A part of me says to run, he’s only going to return in a moment, while the other part says throw on some makeup.

  Ignoring him, I switch on the stereo and quickly get the area ready to be worked in. Just as I go to tape off the kitchen, I hear a tap against the glass. With a quick turn of my head, I recognize a fully dressed Dakota.

  “Come on in. I told you I could handle this. You need to go unpack yourself,” I say with a hand placed on my hip.

  “You need the company, and it was break time for me. I’m here, so tell me what you need me to do,” he says as he crosses the room toward me.

  “Fine, you can help if you really want. No reason for me to keep up the ‘wicked witch from the beach’ aura then I guess.”

  “Finally coming around I see.” He chuckles.

  “No, just don’t have the energy to fight with you. Things need to get done and I’m on a schedule. Trim or roll?” I ask as I hold
up the roller in one hand and the brush in the other.

  “Roller. You start over there with the trim and we’ll meet in the middle. Well, get to work, woman. We don’t have all day.”

  “Really Dakota? You want to start with the woman thing again? You might have showered and cleaned up already, but keep it up and you’ll have paint all over you,” I say in a stern voice and narrow my eyes at him.

  All of the trimming is completed and I’m leaning against the unpainted wall. Somehow I’ve lost my train of thought again and find myself with the tip of the paint handle to my lips. He’s tossed his shirt to the table and is up on the step ladder finishing up the section above the cabinets. Mesmerized by the way his arms flex with the roller, I’m lost. The simple act of raising his arm up and down in this motion has me picturing something totally different.

  “See something you like, Izzie?” he asks as he stalks toward me, and I have to question when he moved. Was I that lost in thought that I didn’t even realize he got down and stopped?

  Dragging the brush away from my mouth, I lick my lips and quickly lower my head. With a half-look up, I glance through hooded eyes at the person inches away from me. Dakota reaches up and pushes the stray strands of hair from my face, and raises my chin so I’m looking right at him. I swallow as hard as I can, trying to gather my senses.

  “I asked you a question, Izzie. Do you see something you like?”

  “Ugh … No … No, I was just daydreaming of the last time I painted this kitchen,” I manage to squeak out, sounding like a total idiot. I mean I was caught looking like I wanted to eat him alive. Dang it, the girls were right. I need to clear the cobwebs. Hell, I thought what it would be like to have his arms around me, and let him throw me up against the wall and have his way with me. Lord help me, Kelsey would die laughing if she heard the way I’m thinking.

  “Really? Do you always lick your lips like you taste a daydream?”

  “My lips are dry,” I explain as I turn my head away from him. His fingers lace into the hair that’s fallen and he twirls it around his fingers.