Stroke It

by Ivy Jordan

  “I’ll make plans for the trip, but it will be a couple weeks,” I explained without detail for my delay.

  “That will be fine. I’ll send you my office address. You can come pick up the keys and make your final decision from there,” he offered, like I would change my mind once I stepped foot in that house. No thanks.

  “Sure,” I rushed, saying a quick goodbye, and hanging up the phone.

  My head was spinning. My father was sick? Battling cancer? For years? Just like good ole’ dad to keep that to himself. I’m sure it was his plan to have me find out just this way, surprised, shocked, and of course, left with the guilt of not knowing, not helping, and not being able to say goodbye.

  I reached into my cooler, grabbed another beer, and stared up at the sky. Smoke still lingered from the sparks, but no more bright colors remained.

  *

  The light of the day didn’t bring any more clarity to my situation than the eerie darkness of the smoke-filled sky the night before. My father was dead. The house, my childhood home, was now mine to do with as I wished. I laughed as I said the man’s statement in my head. To do with as I wish. Burn it?

  Alcohol was still flowing in my veins thicker than blood, and it was nearly noon. Thoughts of my dad caused me to drink too much, and passing out on the back deck with the cool Miami winter air had left my joints aching. I pulled off my t-shirt and headed down the steps towards the beach. A few people were laying out, another couple walked the shoreline looking for shells, but other than that, it was quiet, empty, peaceful.

  My feet hit the warm sand, my weight pushing it between my toes as I took each step. Once I reached the flattened, damp sand, I took off running, stretching out every damn muscle in my body. It hurt like hell, but felt familiar and comfortable, somehow soothing. Long runs during training nearly brought tears to my eyes in the beginning. This is what it felt like being stretched like one of those rubber wrestling dolls I had as a kid. I picked up the pace, grinding my teeth against the pain, running nowhere, away, just running.

  Sweet familiar pain.

  A mile down the beach I slowed down, letting the burn of my muscles take center stage. A couple cuties were spread out on towels near the softer sand as I headed towards the beachfront café. My dick flinched, alerting me to the scantily clad beauties, but my mind was elsewhere. It was on the burn, the pain, my dad, somewhere. The young blonde lifted from her towel, rising up enough for me to catch a glimpse of her full, round breasts that nearly popped from her green bikini top. Her red lips puckered and her nose wrinkled as she looked into the sun to check out who was nearby. I nodded, doing my best to keep my eyes on hers, and not the tanned mounds that tempted my dick. Her smile was sweet, inviting, and I knew with just one move, she’d be mine, at least for one night.

  Her friend lifted up as I neared them, a hateful look on her face as I blocked her sun. The blonde was still smiling, still watching, but I just kept walking. Damn, what a missed opportunity.

  “Hey, Elijah,” Keith, the café owner greeted me as I entered. The room was dark, most of the tables empty, but the place still felt inviting and warm.

  “Did you run everyone off?” I chuckled, moving towards the counter.

  “They must’ve seen you comin’; place was packed up until a few minutes ago,” he teased.

  He didn’t even ask; he just poured me a large coffee in a Styrofoam cup to go. “You check those hotties out on your way in?” he motioned towards the girls lying out on the beach. I nodded. “What’s gotten into you?” he questioned.

  It was obvious my mood had shifted. Normally, I would have stopped to talk to the girls, got a number, maybe two, and made a date. I would be in here bragging to Keith about my conquests, or possibly lying about them.

  “Got a strange call last night,” I mentioned, leaning against the counter as I stared out at the girls.

  “Oh yeah?” he probed.

  “My dad died.”

  “Oh shit, I’m sorry to hear that,” Keith’s eyes widened as he spoke.

  “Ahhh, it’s just now I’ve gotta head back to Hawaii and deal with his house,” I complained.

  “Oh man, that sounds horrible. Hawaii, huh?” Keith half-chuckled.

  I grinned, appreciating him lifting the tone of our conversation. “Yup. Gonna be rough to handle all that tanned ass on my own,” I smirked.

  Keith tossed his white cleaning towel over his shoulder and shook his head. As he walked out from behind the counter, he patted me on the back. “If you need anything,” he said and paused. I knew what he meant. He was a good friend, and he’d be there for whatever I needed. I just didn’t know if I needed anything.

  I sipped my coffee as I headed back out onto the beach. The cute little blonde eyed me as I made my way back down onto the sand. “Hey,” she called out. I turned to look in her direction. She was waving me towards her and her friend with a wide smile smeared across her face.

  I walked over, standing over them, blocking their sun, wondering to myself, why in the hell I wasn’t pouncing on that. “What’s up?” I asked casually.

  “Is your name Elijah?” she smiled, scooting her sunglasses to her nose.

  “It is,” I said reluctantly, trying desperately to determine if this was a forgotten one night stand gone wrong.

  “My sister dated you. Sandy,” she batted her eyes.

  Dated? Fucked, maybe, but dated, I believe not. I smiled, nodded. “Tell her I said hi.”

  I started to turn away, ready to make my way back to my beach house and plan the dreaded trip to my childhood home when she stopped me. “Wait,” she said sweetly. “Is there a rule about dating the younger sister?” she giggled.

  Oh hell. For the love of all that is holy, my dick screamed against my basketball shorts with all his might. “I don’t believe there is,” I grinned, suddenly finding more interest in this young cutie.

  “Here,” she said, handing me a card she quickly dug from her beach bag. I stared at it: massage therapist, Krissy. Sweet heaven and hell. “Call me,” she winked.

  “May be awhile. I’m headed to Hawaii in a few days,” I explained.

  “I’ll wait,” she smiled as her friend wrinkled her nose at me; this time I didn’t think it was because I blocked her sun.

  I smiled, turned, and walked away, feeling the rush of blood flowing to my cock so forcefully that I knew not even thinking about baseball, combat, or Roseanne Barr was going to stop this erection. I took off running, trying my best to look casual with the stiffened muscle between my legs. I made it about half-way to my beach house, and out of range of the girls, and headed into the ocean.

  The cold water sent shivers down my spine and resolved me of the problem that grew between my legs without hesitation.

  Shit, her card. I reached into my pocket, the wet card still displayed her number but was beginning to fall apart from the water. I made my way to the beach and then walked to my house with the card in my hand. I wasn’t going to call. I wasn’t sure why; I just knew I wasn’t. That wasn’t what I needed right now, maybe ever again. Maybe what I needed was to grow the fuck up.

  I crumpled the card and tossed it in the trashcan outside my back door. I shook off, stripped from my wet shorts right there in broad daylight, and headed inside to look for a towel. My phone blinked on the table, catching my attention before I could dry off.

  Isaac’s number displayed under missed calls, so I called it back. “Hey, Happy New Year,” Isaac blurted as he answered.

  “Happy New Year to you and Maddie,” I returned the gesture.

  “I wish you could’ve made it last night,” Isaac expressed his disappointment through a soft tone in his voice.

  I’d forgotten all about the party actually. I knew it would be couples, mainly him and Maddie, and Beth and her new man. I wasn’t in the mood to be a single guy at a couple’s party. “Something came up; sorry,” I lied.

  “That’s okay. I figured you found a little hot thing to spend New Year’s Eve with,” he chuc
kled enviously.

  “You know me,” I lied again. “Hey, you wanna grab lunch, and maybe a drink?” I asked.

  “Sure. Is there something wrong?” he questioned.

  I paused. “No. I just want to catch up,” I explained.

  We agreed on a place, and planned to meet in an hour, giving me enough time to wash the sand out of the crack of my ass, and figure out what I was going to say. I didn’t want him to get all weird and sentimental; I just needed him to know I was leaving, and why.

  Isaac sat on a stool at the far end of the bar. I walked up to him without being noticed, slapping him on the back, making him jump. “Hey,” he greeted me cheerfully and quickly motioned for the bartender. “Two more, please,” he ordered.

  I sat down beside him, envying the happiness and contentment in his eyes. “You look good,” I admitted.

  “I can’t complain. Life’s pretty damn good,” he smiled.

  I gripped my beer, bringing it to my lips as soon as the bartender sat it in front of me. Isaac started talking, and filling the dead space with details about the party he’d had the night before, and how Maddie made an amazing sauerkraut dish so everyone would have good luck in the new year. “I didn’t eat sauerkraut; guess I should’ve,” I half-laughed.

  Isaac’s eyes turned to me, narrowing as they stared into mine. “Bad luck already?” he questioned.

  I laughed, moving my eyes from his to my beer. I stared at the dark golden liquid swirling in my glass, and then took a long drink before replying. “My dad died.”

  He had the same reaction as Keith at the café, his tone filled with sorrow, and his hand on my shoulder for comfort. Funny thing, I didn’t need comfort. I really didn’t have any emotions overflowing inside of me, other than the confusion from not being emotional.

  “I have to go to Hawaii and deal with the house, and all his stuff,” I said between drinks.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Couple days. That’s why I wanted to see ya, to let you know I’d be away awhile,” I explained.

  “That’s gonna be a rough trip. You need me to tag along?” Isaac offered.

  “No. There’s no need for you to leave Maddie. I can handle it alone,” I replied with a smile.

  “You know, all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never heard you talk about your dad,” Isaac pointed out.

  “There’s a reason for that,” I snorted, and then finished my beer.

  “Isn’t Xander living in Hawaii?” he asked.

  I was glad that he left the topic of my father alone and moved on. I knew my tone made it obvious I wasn’t ready to talk about my dad, with him, or anyone. I hadn’t thought about Xander in a couple years. The wild man in our brotherhood, the daredevil, risk taker, the first one to jump in front of the enemy… damn I missed Xander. “Yeah, but I doubt I’d find him,” I laughed.

  “I heard he took refuge in the mountains like some kind of Grizzly Adams,” Isaac joked.

  “He never did like people,” I mentioned.

  The bartender brought us another round as Isaac’s hand moved in the air. It was nice reminiscing about Xander, but it made me remember those that we lost. “Time flies,” I sighed, realizing I was pushing thirty and hadn’t done anything with my life.

  “That’s why you gotta make the best of it,” Isaac slapped me on the back.

  I knew he was trying to make me feel better about my life as he began bringing up my freedom, all the hot women, and how I had life by the horns, able to do whatever I wanted. I knew he was only soothing my pain. There was no way Isaac would give up what he had with Maddie for my life or anyone else’s. He’d made the best out of him life, I… well, I just didn’t.

  Chapter Two

  Taylor

  The large cardboard box was more awkward than heavy, making it tough to prop it on my knee to open the door to my new office. “Here, let me,” Mitchell, my new boss pushed past me and opened the door.

  “Thank you,” I smiled as I walked into the building.

  The office was clean, decorated with drab colors, and didn’t provide the warm welcome that I felt necessary for a therapist’s lobby. Mitchell took the box from my hands and walked it to my new office. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said with a warm smile. He was tall, lanky, and has pointy features that reminded me of Ichabod Crane. I nodded as he set the box on my desk, a large mahogany antique with detailed carvings. It was the only thing of mine in the office, other than the box just deposited by Mitchell. The file cabinet in the corner, the tall, ugly floor lamp, and the ridiculous posters on the walls, those weren’t mine. My eyes scanned the room, stopping on the poster that had been framed of a kitten hanging on a clothesline. “Hang in There” it read, almost making me giggle aloud. “You can decorate however you’d like,” Mitchell said, obviously reading my disapproval of the décor.

  “Thanks,” I smiled.

  “I’ve heard amazing things about you. I know you’ll fit right in here,” Mitchell offered, lingering at the door.

  “I appreciate the opportunity. I know I’ll love it here,” I forced a half-smile.

  Mitchell nodded, and then left me alone with my box, my thoughts, and the hideous décor of the room.

  I was grateful for the opportunity, that was true, but I wasn’t sure I would learn to love this place. At twenty-eight, it was amazing to be offered a partnership in an already established practice. The clients were mostly retired Navy vets that stayed on the island after their service. I looked forward to talking to them, helping them, especially after losing both my brother and my father. The SEALS brotherhood was what they lived for, even my dad, years after he retired, he was loyal to the men who he served with, and his stories always ended up on the topic of his military days. I missed those stories, so bad it actually hurt my heart.

  The contents of my box were unpacked, and there was nothing left for me to do. Tomorrow would start a new day, a new chapter in my life, even though it felt as though I’d already lived this chapter.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said to Mitchell as I stuck my head in his doorway. He lifted his eyes from his laptop and smiled.

  It had only been a couple days since I’d returned to the islands, and to my childhood home. The Asian delivery place right next to my house had been dinner each night, but I wanted something different, something that reminded me of the states, of New York, the home I’d left to come back here.

  I drove down the road, slowing at a coffee shop sign that promised to have the best cup of coffee in town, and gourmet doughnuts. That was probably as close to New York I was going to get, so I pulled into the parking lot.

  My mouth watered as I walked in the door, the aroma of savory and sweet delicacies nearly lifted me from my feet and carried me to the counter. It was just like home—New York home. The bakery across the street from my old office had the same familiar aroma, the same delicious baked goods, and the same unique style décor. “Welcome to Mad Creations,” a familiar voice greeted me. I turned toward the sweet voice, shocked to see my best friend from high school, Madison standing behind the counter. Her hair was still red and curly, and her body still short and pudgy, although I’d say she’d put on a few pounds since high school. “Oh my God, Taylor, is that you?” she squealed, rushing from behind the counter and towards me like a charging bull. I didn’t have time to prepare for her embrace that nearly knocked me back two steps. “I haven’t seen you since graduation,” she squeezed her arms around my torso like a boa constrictor subduing its prey.

  “I just got back into town,” I exhaled as she released her grip.

  Her eyes narrowed, and her lips rolled to a frown as she stared into my eyes. “I heard about your father, I’m so sorry, Taylor,” she consoled me.

  “Thank you,” I choked out while struggling to hold back my tears. “It’s good to see you.”

  Her bright green eyes lit up, and her smile warmed my heart. “Sit, I’ll get us a coffee and we can catch up,” she insisted, motioning for
me to take a seat. “You hungry?” she asked. I nodded. I was starving.

  I watched her go behind the counter, pull out a couple huge doughnuts with a specialty glaze, and then order the young girl at the register to make two French vanilla coffees.

  “So, what have you been up to?” Madison asked, taking a seat beside me.

  I filled her in on my adventures in New York. She sat with her elbows on the table, propping up her head as her eyes danced and her lips curled. “I wish I would’ve taken off after college,” she sighed.

  I knew Madison had taken a course at the community college and never had plans on leaving the island. She always told me I’d leave and never come back, forgetting her forever. It was somewhat true. I hadn’t thought about Madison much, even though we were attached at the hip all through school. Now, here we were, all grown up, chatting like we’ve never missed a day.

  “Are you married?” Madison asked, reaching for my left hand. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed I didn’t have a ring. “Divorced?” she groaned.

  I laughed. “No, never married.”

  I hadn’t had much time to think about dating, let alone marriage. My life was busy, too busy. So busy that I hadn’t even been there for my dad. “What about you?” I asked, expecting to find out she was married with three kids already.

  “I’m dating someone, but no proposal, yet,” she said hopefully.

  An older couple came into the store, causing a small bell to ring as they entered. “I don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss,” I whispered to Madison.

  The young girl behind the counter greeted the customers and then moved to the cash register to take their order.

  “My boss is pretty cool,” she smirked.

  “This is your shop?” I gushed. She nodded proudly, her cheeks turning a pale shade of pink.

  “Mad Creations, Madison,” she explained the name.

  I felt bad for not visiting her, or even looking her up when I’d made trips home to visit my dad. They were always only a couple day visits with the long flights sucking up most of my vacation time. Madison was my dearest friend, one of the sweetest people I knew, and sitting her with her now made me feel a little better about moving back to Hawaii.