Fading Memories

by A. M. Willard

  The night is moving along and we’ve enjoyed the slight banter back and forth with the girls. Our plates are cleared and our glasses are empty. Leaning forward to pour a little more wine, I offer some to Kelsey and Leah.

  “Driving, and we have a busy day tomorrow,” Kelsey responds as she cuts her eyes toward Leah, who nods in agreement.

  Dakota, however, clears his throat and motions to his glass. Ugh he drives me crazy, why can’t he just leave?

  “I’ve got a little bit of news to announce before we talk about the party.”

  “Leah, you always have news, so I’m not shocked by this,” I say with a hint of laughter. I adore her, but she can never keep a secret.

  “I’ll ignore that. Joseph called as I was headed here; he needed me to give you a heads up. Peter and the hoochie are in town, arrived this afternoon. He also said something about Peter saying he was going to call you to catch up. Consider yourself warned, Izzie.”

  “They’re early, and no warning is needed. I have nothing to catch up on with him. Though I am curious what warrants any conversation between us?”

  We haven’t spoken or seen each other since that night. Even when he had the movers deliver my personal effects from his home, it was the movers and not him.

  “Don’t know, Izzie. Joseph didn’t say much other than that. Maybe he’s playing nice so he doesn’t get his butt kicked,” Leah says, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Who’s Peter?” Dakota asks, turning to me.

  “No one you need to worry or know anything about,” I say with a clipped tone.

  “You know, Izzie, you could always see him and then deliver a nice slap across the face. You know you want to,” Kelsey states.

  Raising my eyebrows at them, I ask, “Can we change this subject, please?” I give them an eye-roll toward Dakota. By doing this, I would’ve thought they’d catch on to the fact that I have no desire to speak about Peter in front of him.

  “Well, you know how we feel about it. Personally, we don’t want to see him either, but you know it’s a small island. He’s bound to bump into you sooner or later,” Kelsey says.

  “Yeah about that … Joseph mentioned something about Peter wanting to come to the barbecue. You know, a show of good faith that we’re still friends. You think you can handle that one, Izzie?” Leah asks as she throws that curveball at me, leaving me to watch it fall to the ground.

  “Are you really asking me that?” I say.

  “Yeah, I mean, I know the answer, but Joseph asked me to see.”

  “Kelsey, what do you think?”

  “Dakota, you’ll be joining us for the barbecue, correct?” Kelsey asks, giving him a strange look that has me questioning what they’re up to.

  “What does he have to do with it? I asked what you thought about it, not him.”

  “Just checking if Dakota will be here; if so, then I say tell the bastard to show up. If not, then he’s not welcome here. I refuse to pick those pieces up again. He’s not coming here and leaving a trail of disaster in his wake,” Kelsey answers in her ‘I’m about to flip out on someone’ voice.

  “Hold up one moment,” I say, holding up one hand to stop them from talking. I point at Dakota. “He has nothing to do with this. No, I don’t want him here, he lost that ‘you're welcome anytime’ privilege when he left me curled up in a ball. Don’t you remember? If you don’t want to witness me strangling him, then you make it so he’s not here.”

  “Calm down, Izzie. I’ll take care of it,” Leah whispers.

  “No worries. Right, Dakota?” Kelsey asks.

  He doesn’t speak, only nods his head. This causes me to look at them all and wonder what is going on. It’s like some secret code they have, and right now, I’m on the verge of banning them all.

  “Change of subject, what’s the plan for our big day.” Leah claps.

  “Same as always, I guess. We’ll cook here, hang out, play some games, and then walk to the pier for dancing, drinking, and fireworks.” Stopping, I look at Dakota. “You can bring a plus one if you’d like. Just let me know.”

  “My plus one is right here,” he says placing his hand back on my thigh, which causes my breath to hitch in my throat. “Ladies, I need to head home. Thanks for dinner and the company. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” He stands, leans down to my ear, and quietly whispers, “You’ll dream about my hands all over you tonight. If you get lonely, you know where I am.”

  With that, he turns and leaves. I’m utterly speechless and not even sure what to think.

  “What did he say? You have beads of sweat on your forehead and your face is as red as an apple,” Kelsey says.

  “Just let it go. You two started this,” I spit out and point at them both.

  “I just want to know two things. When are you two going to do the nasty and get it over with, and how did we start this?” Leah smiles.

  “Never happening, and it’s because you two are nice to him. You invited him to stay this evening and then to the party. Couldn’t you have waited to tell me about Peter after he left? Shit Leah, he doesn’t know about any of this. Now he’s going to have a bigger complex and feel the need to rescue me even more.”

  “Sorry,” she says, looking defeated, but cutting her eyes to Kelsey.

  “Just let it go.”

  They finally let it go, and we focus on the cottage and the party. Everyone seems to be excited about this year, since they all missed the festivities last year.

  I couldn’t bring myself to do it; it didn’t feel right. This was Dad’s tradition. He started it years ago with family and friends. It seemed right to mourn that loss, and that’s what I did. I even passed on going to the pier. It wasn’t just the fact that I’d lost my father, but it’s the same place where Peter asked me to marry him. It was two evils that didn’t need to be rehashed at once. I had to figure out a way to mourn them both.

  The night Peter proposed, we had just finished dancing and were standing by the railing for the fireworks display. Peter had been acting all mysterious that night, and I was a little on edge with his behavior. I remember the fireworks starting, and Peter turning me to face him instead of the sky. He got down on one knee and looked up at me.

  “Izzie, you are the most thoughtful person I know. You always make sure that everyone around you is entirely happy. You never stop for a moment to think how it’ll benefit you, you just do it. Two years ago, you took my heart and promised not to break it. When you say you love me, it’s like an extension to my heart. You, Isabel Marie Nichols, are the love of my life. I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like without you. That’s why I need you to be my wife; I need you to be the mother of our children. I need you to live. Izzie, I’m asking you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  Of course, I had managed somehow to say yes to Peter as the tears ran down my face. He slid the ring onto my finger and gave me a tight squeeze.

  He wasn’t fond of public affection, so I couldn’t even believe he just proposed to me in front of everyone.

  Congrats were shared and we embraced to enjoy the rest of the fiery display above.

  “You went there, didn’t you?” Kelsey screams at me.

  “I did, but just a little. Come on, let’s get this cleaned up. I’m getting tired and you two have to drive home, unless you want to stay here for the night. We can stay up and talk more, and then I can recruit you for store duty tomorrow. Who’s coming over to help prep?”

  “I can’t, I have a thing to go to tomorrow.” Leah shrugs.

  “I’ll be here,” Kelsey confirms.

  “Perfect, now help me put this away. I need some beauty sleep.”

  With quick hugs and kisses on their cheeks, both Kelsey and Leah leave me to the solitude of my home. A welcome peace falls over me as I move about to pick up the rest of the place. Sliding into bed, I open my notepad and start on the list of items that need to be retrieved from the store tomorrow. As I’m writing, I find myself curious about what Peter’s intentions are. Why wou
ld he want to bring his new fiancée to the old one's house? What is it that possesses him to find closure? Is it even that, or something different? A part of me is curious to hear what he has to say, and then the other side of me doesn’t care. Time can only tell, and then at that moment, I’ll decide what I plan to do. Until then, I choose to not lose any sleep over the man who’s already caused so many sleepless nights.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I AM ON A MISSION from the moment my feet hit the floor. First order of business is to ignore Dakota. I plan to keep all doors locked and drapes drawn, not even caring that the day is bright and I should welcome the rays into the house. Determined to stay focused, I’m mentally strategizing my day. Shopping, cleaning, and then finally prep work all have to be done before I can call it a day. This will go according to plan if a certain someone stays far away from me. I’d tossed and turned all night, replaying his last sentence to me. Lack of sleep and a list a mile long, I have to stop for a moment and bring myself back to today. Something is telling me that tomorrow is going to be a cluster, and the need to just go with the flow is overpowering.

  Not only is Dakota invading my mind, but so is Peter. The awkwardness of seeing him again has me questioning what it will be like. Do I hug him, welcome them into my home? What do you say to someone who broke you? I’ll cross my fingers and pray that Leah can handle this. No way can I handle both Dakota and Peter. One causes me to drop everything as my heart beats faster, the other brings pain and sadness to my heart. It’s not a combination that needs to mix together.

  Dressed, I tuck my hair up into a ball cap and leave the house undetected. Backing out of the driveway and noticing that his car’s gone, I let out a sigh of relief, but I question where he is. Never hearing him leave this morning has me even more curious about his whereabouts. Dakota could have gone to the diner for breakfast, I repeat over and over in my mind.

  Front place parking and an empty market has me giddy; in and out, no fuss. With the buggy, list, and my mind somewhat ready, I take a deep breath and charge forward toward the produce section. As the search begins for the makings of the salad and fruit tray, a carton of blueberries catches my attention, and the sudden urge to make a pie or muffins hits. I toss them into my cart and move along before I decide to make something else. With my mind elsewhere, I continue to grab a few more items, well, that is until I’m startled when I hear my name.

  “Good morning, Izzie.”

  I turn to look at the one person I’m trying to avoid, and I’m hit with that smile of his. A red basket is hanging from his elbow and he’s waiting for me to respond.

  Submitting, I quickly allow the words to escape my mouth. “Morning Dakota.”

  “You’re out and about early today; do you have a lot to do?”

  “Yes, tons to do. So if you will excuse me.” Dakota sets his basket down on the top of my buggy and I look up at him in a state of confusion. “What are you doing?”

  “Hand me your list, I’m going to help. It’ll make things move along faster. I’ll call them out and you direct us to the aisle.”

  “Dakota, I can handle this, I’ve been doing it for years. Why don’t you get your stuff out of my buggy and head on home?”

  “Not leaving, just accept the help. I’m clear for the day and I declare myself your helper. Now come on, we’ve got things to do,” he says, walking ahead of me.

  We make our way over to load up on buns for the hot dogs and burgers. Still not even sure what to say to him, thoughts run deep with a plan of action. This whole process would move along just as fast with me alone. He doesn’t grasp the fact that I’ve been used to doing things on my own for some time now. It’s not the first barbecue or party I’ve ever hosted. Peter would throw last minute dinners on me at a drop of a hat. It became second nature to go into party mode in a jiffy. Dad started letting me help organize our yearly party at the ripe age of ten: menu, decorations, and everything else, except for cooking on the grill.

  Dakota continues to read off each item. When he announces toilet paper, it hits me. Tampons, I freaking have tampons written on that list.

  “Can I have my list for a moment?” I ask, trying to grab it before he notices the most embarrassing moment of my life.

  “No, come on we’re almost done,” He gives me that wicked smile, alerting me to the fact that he’s already read it.

  Oh gosh, he’s seen it. Please let the ground open up and swallow me whole, now.

  Choices are to ignore him, or make a mad dash for the paper gripped in his hands. He’s taller and will use his strength against me, so the plan is to create a diversion.

  But with my back to him, searching for the brand I like, my body comes to a halt. My feet are frozen in place and I can’t move. Familiar eyes are staring through me. Whatever voice I used to have is lodged in my throat and I can’t form a coherent thought. I thought I was ready to face him, to act as if we never had a past. With my heart beating hard against my restricted chest, a whimper of his name slides past my lips. “Peter.”

  Dakota is watching me carefully. “Izzie? What’s wrong? You’re white as a ghost. For the record, I’ll pretend you did not just call me Peter.”

  I jump from my skin as he places his hand on my lower back, but I can’t bring myself to move. Peter’s getting closer and closer, and with each step he takes, my heart beats faster. For a brief moment, the need to turn around and run hits me. That route will only prove to him how broken he left me. Taking a deep breath and releasing it to calm the inner turmoil, I find my voice. “Hello, Peter.”

  I can’t bring myself to look at Dakota. The untouched air around us is so thick that I fear the look on his face. We’ve not talked about Peter, but he’s gotten a glimpse, which explains why I can feel fire emitting from his skin. Is it him, or me, that I feel it coming from? At this point, I can’t tell.

  “Good to see you again, Izzie. You look beautiful today,” he says, stepping in for an embrace, from which I pull back and glare at him.

  “Nice to see you,” I reply sharply as Dakota clears his throat next to me. With a wave of my hand toward him, I say, “Peter, this is Dakota. Dakota, this is Peter.”

  “Izzie, I was wondering if at some point we could get together and talk for a bit. Catch up and stuff.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be happening, buddy,” Dakota growls at him.

  “Who are you, by the way? I’m sure she can make her own choices.”

  “Dakota. I live next door, and last time I checked, the two of you weren’t together anymore.”

  I watch their chests puff out, like this is a contest to see who can piss farther than the other.

  I interrupt them. “All right boys, no need to get into a pissing match here in the store. Peter, we have nothing to talk about. The answer is no, we’ll not be catching up. You lost that right when you walked out. Also, I’m pretty sure your fiancée would not want you catching up with me,” I say while trying to stand my ground and keep an eye on Dakota, who looks like a tiger ready to pounce at any moment.

  “What’s with this guy? He doesn’t look your type.”

  “Oh, and you’re the master of knowing what my type is, Peter? Last I checked, you weren’t my type either.” My blood’s boiling at this point. I’ve got two men standing next to me who act as if they own me. I own myself—not Peter nor Dakota.

  Dakota has tried to make himself a permanent fixture in my life since showing up, while Peter walked out and created a new life. Where do either of them get off thinking I belong to them or know what type I have?

  “Dakota, give me my list. I’ve got no time for either of you today. If you want to throw remarks around with each other, help yourself, but I'll not be a witness to it.”

  “Izzie, I’m sorry. Let me finish helping, and then we’ll get this home and unloaded.”

  Peter’s trying to figure out this situation, and I watch his eyes dart between the two of us, knowing curiosity is getting to him. Joseph has met Dakota once and has forgot
ten to mention it to him.

  “Fine … I’ll meet you in the other aisle.”

  Moving down the aisle toward the personal hygiene products, I finally let out all the air from my lungs. As I’m perfectly capable of doing the shopping alone, frustration overpowers me again. By the time Dakota slides up next to me with the buggy, I throw my items down with a force that shocks me. At this moment, I don’t care that he sees what I’m buying. It's life, and with how it’s just rattled me, I need an outlet. Why did I ever think I could handle seeing him again? The only thing I have done since hearing of his return is lie about being healed and ready to act like adults. Between Dakota messing with my emotions, and Peter squeezing my heart with his bare hands, I’m not sure how much more lying about my feelings I can endure.

  When we approach the end of the aisle I glance back behind Dakota and notice Peter closing in. He stops just before me, leans down, and whispers into my ear, “I didn’t mean to upset you, just wanted to see if we can catch up, you know. I mean, it’s been awhile, and I wanted to check on you. For the record, you look gorgeous.” And with those words against my ears, my breath quickens and my eyes flutter toward Dakota.

  With my voice low as a mouse, I say, “Peter, we have nothing to catch up on. Plus, I’m fine, no thanks to you. Look, I’ve got to go, have a great holiday.”

  When I finish and both hands are placed on the buggy, I stroll away. Feeling Dakota staring at me, I don’t stop.

  “Izzie,” Peter yells out from the other end of the aisle, stopping me in my tracks, but I don’t turn around. “I’ll see you this weekend, I promise that,” he says, and I can’t quite hear what Dakota mumbles under his breath.

  His hands touch the dip in my lower back, and instead of stiffening, I relax under his touch. The warmth of his voice trails against my skin as he speaks. “You’ll not be seeing or talking to him unless one of us is present.”

  No response can be formed, as I’m not even sure what to feel about his words. I’m pushing through the emotions; we need to get out of here before someone gets hurt.