Saltwater Kisses

by Krista Lakes

  “Miss Street? Miss Anna Street?” A light masculine voice cut through my memories. A tall older gentleman, with combed back brown hair sliced with gray and bright blue eyes was trying to catch my attention. I suddenly recognized Dean, though it took me a moment before I remembered that I was traveling as Anna Street to avoid alerting any of the press. I rushed over and hugged him, glad to have a familiar face when my world seemed so empty. He grinned and hugged me back before tucking the sign with my false name printed neatly across it under his arm and ushering me to a waiting black SUV.

  “Looks like you made it here safe and sound. Rachel hired me to look out for you for the next few weeks. She thought it was best if it was someone you knew and trusted already.” I was so glad it was Dean who was going to look out for me. Just hearing his voice was soothing. It was like he was always smiling, even though his face was straight and professional. He reminded me so much of my father it was easy to trust him.

  “I’m glad you’re here Dean. Where are we going?”

  “Ms. Weber has arranged for you to stay at a local hotel.”

  “A hotel? You mean I don’t get to go home?” I felt a push of despair. All I wanted was to curl up in my bed, in my house, with my special coffee mug and try to forget this whole thing had ever even happened.

  “I’m sorry, but no. There are at least three photographers waiting at your home and several more positioned at places that you are known to frequent. I’m afraid I'll have to ask you to stay at the hotel and keep your contact with people here as brief as possible for your own safety.” His voice lost the smiling sound as he smiled apologetically at me. I sighed and nodded. I should have known this was going to keep haunting me.

  Dean carefully parked the car in the parking lot of a small hotel outside of downtown Des Moines. The city was so tiny compared to New York that calling it a city seemed like a sad joke. It seemed grayer than I remembered—less alive. The trees reached up with grasping fingers, scratching at an unforgiving sky for warmth and light. Even though the trees were starting to sprout little buds, I couldn’t see the green. The day would have been warm if the wind wasn’t blowing, but dark clouds were building across the sky as the sun set. Spring snow threatened, but I didn’t care.

  Dean walked in front of me, his thin frame easy to follow through the empty hallways to my room. It was a nice room, nicer than anything I could have afforded, but it was still just a hotel room. I went to the closet to hang my jacket and found my things already arranged neatly. Glancing around the room, I could see small touches that could only be the work of Rachel. My mail on the table, fresh flowers in a vase by the door, my toothbrush and a red cup by the sink.

  Dean handed me a card with his name and telephone number, reminding me if I needed anything to call him. “I’ll bring by some pizza in an hour or so for you. What would you like?”

  “Pineapple and bacon,” I answered automatically. Comfort food sounded good. He grinned and shut the heavy door softly behind him. I stood in the center of the room, suddenly lost. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be in New York. I wanted to be somewhere I belonged. I wanted this hole in my heart to either disappear or fill up with something that didn’t hurt so much.

  I slid the blonde wig off my head and onto a wig stand in the bathroom. Rachel had thought of everything. I looked at myself in the mirror. I still looked the same, brown hair, brown eyes, but I knew something must be different about me. I didn’t feel like me anymore. I suddenly wanted out of my expensive clothes, out of everything that had anything to do with New York or the almost-life I had left behind.

  I threw the suit on the tile floor, a sick sense of satisfaction at the expensive fabric lying in a pile. I stepped on it as I walked past. All I wanted was a pair of old sweats and a t-shirt. I dug through the drawers, but all I could find was beautiful expensive clothes from New York. I ripped them out of the drawers and off their hangers, tossing them in angry showers to the floor as I searched. I didn’t want this. All I wanted was something simple, comfortable. Finally, in the bottom drawer of the last dresser, I found my ratty scrub pants and a t-shirt.

  With a sob of relief I dove into the familiar fabric, feeling it rub against my skin. The hem on the pants was fraying and a hole had developed in the t-shirt, but I didn’t care. Hot tears leaked down my cheeks, leaving red lines of frustration and hurt behind them. I sat down on the bed, a raft in a sea of clothes, and cried until I passed out, exhausted.

  Chapter 22

  Five days, three hours, and twenty three minutes since I left New York. I had been cooped up in the hotel room for five days, and I was ready to kill. Dean brought me whatever kind of food I wanted, and I had free reign of room service and the coffee cart in the library, provided I wore the blonde wig whenever I opened the door.

  I hated it. The weather outside was slowly getting warmer, the sunshine teasing me with happiness. I went out in the hotel courtyard several times, but there was always a businessman on his phone, or a family planning their drive back through Nebraska. I wanted to be alone, not silently sharing strangers’ lives, so I tended to stay in my room and pull the drapes.

  I watched more TV in those few days than I had in my whole life. I suddenly understood the allure of reality TV, or at least the mind-numbing time-killing ability of it. It was at least a way to pass time while I waited for my world to settle enough that I could go back into it.

  Dean kept his distance, bringing me food and movies at regular intervals. He was friendly and easy going, but he kept our relationship strictly professional. He was my bodyguard, not my friend. He had other things to do than sit in my hotel room and listen to me whine.

  Rachel and I texted throughout the day, but she was busy with work. I had a feeling Jack was finding her extra tasks to keep her busy so she wouldn’t remind him about me. She kept telling me that things were going to get better, but, from my lonely hotel room, the world looked desolate and gray.

  I wished for the umpteenth time that I could at least tell Ashley where I was so she could come visit me, but Dean had expressly forbidden it. I couldn’t tell anyone—not even my parents—that I was back in town, because anyone connected with me was probably being watched. I told him he was paranoid and crazy and he looked at me with icy blue eyes until I finally relented.

  I felt lost. Without my friends or family, there was nothing in Iowa that I wanted. Without Jack and Rachel, there was nothing in New York that wanted me. I was in my home state, but I couldn’t have been farther away from home if I tried.

  “Celebrities Revealed! Look who is back in rehab? The troubled starlet was seen checking in-” The TV blared out, suddenly loud as a tabloid show flashed on the screen. I flopped around on the bed, trying to find the remote. “Where is Emma LaRue? Are the two lovers splitting up?”

  At my name, I turned to the screen. A video of Jack carrying me out of the restaurant as the paparazzi swarmed us flashed across the screen, making my chest squeeze. Jack’s eyes flashed furious as he cradled me close to him, protective and fierce. I could almost smell his cologne, the soft scent of his soap as I remembered. The void in my chest threatened to swallow me whole. I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking the tears that wanted to escape. I’m past this, I told myself. If I said it enough times, it would be true.

  “Emma LaRue has not been seen entering the DS Oil and Gas Building for almost a week after weeks of almost nightly visits. No sightings of her, or the happy couple anywhere in New York.” The screen flashed to a video of Jack in his office. Someone with a camera was in the grand entrance looking through his open office door. He looked worn and tired, dark circles under his eyes. He seemed to carry a heavy weight across his shoulders, heavier than I had ever seen. Upon seeing the camera, his eyes blazed and the door to his office slammed shut, the angry face of Jeannette filling the screen before cutting back to a picture of me smiling in Times Square. “Jack Saunders appears hard at work, so where is the lovely Emma?”

  I barely recognized myself
in the photograph. The hair was mine, the arms and legs were right, the clothing matched something I knew was piled on the floor in the closet, but the smile was something foreign. I had been so happy. All the joy from loving Jack radiated out of that smile, filling the picture with sunny warmth. It was only on the screen for a moment before the announcer shifted stories, and grainy pictures of a long legged blonde woman in compromising positions filled the screen.

  “What are you watching?” Dean asked, stepping through the doorway. I hadn’t even heard him knock, but I had given him a key. He stood with a bag of groceries, a perplexed look on his face as he watched the blurred images of a lurid sex tape flit across the screen. I finally found the remote and hit the power button.

  The TV died with an electronic hiss. “Nothing worth watching,” I said sitting up. He set the food down on the table and walked over to the window, pulling the drapes open. I hissed like a vampire as bright sun flooded the room.

  “It is a gorgeous day outside. You haven’t been out of this hotel room in over three days and—”

  “I went to the courtyard on Monday!” I interjected. He gave me a look that made it very clear what he thought of that.

  “The courtyard doesn’t count as outside. The crab apple trees are blooming and you are within walking distance of one of the largest collections of flowering crab apple trees in the world. Arie den Boer Arboretum is just down the road. You are going to get up, get dressed, and go take a walk. Absorb nature.”

  “I don’t wanna.”

  “Don’t make me make you.” He gave me the same look my father used to give when I didn’t want to do my chores.

  I sighed and rolled off the bed. It was easier to appease him than to fight him. Besides, I hadn’t been to the ‘crabby-apple park’ since I was a kid. I remembered that some horticulturist had collected hundreds of varieties of flowering crab apple trees and planted them in a park. My dad would take me for a picnic lunch when the trees first went into bloom until I started high school and decided it wasn’t cool anymore.

  Dean put the groceries in the mini fridge as I changed in the bathroom. It felt good to get out of my scrubs and into real clothes again. Just changing made the world feel a little better. I ran a brush through my hair before pulling it up into a messy bun and throwing a hat on my head. I didn’t want to wear the wig. I was tired of being fake.

  I stepped out and Dean did a once over, handing me a pair of sunglasses before deciding I looked nondescript enough to venture outside. I was beginning to feel excited about seeing the trees. There was a river that ran along the park, and I remembered ducklings and goslings playing in the grass under the pink and white blossoms. Dean nodded his approval as I slid on sneakers, a smile starting to form on my lips. This was the happiest I had felt since I arrived.

  I got a head start out the door, knowing Dean would shadow me quietly. He was my bodyguard after all, but I was going to pretend like he wasn’t there and he was going to let me. It felt a weight lift off my shoulders as I stepped out of the main lobby and into the spring sunshine.

  It only took a minute to walk down to the river, following a path towards a forest of flowering trees. I could see bikes and runners working their way around the lake across the street, everyone smiling and waving in the spring sunshine.

  I walked slowly, letting the sunshine warm my bones. The air was cool, but with a heat of something warmer coming, the sweet scent of apple blossoms filling my mind. The river gurgled gently as I walked, singing of the end of winter and the journey to the sea.

  The path diverged from the river and headed towards the pink and white blossoming trees. I could see small flowers dancing on gentle breezes, twirling and spinning from their branches onto carpets of pink and white. Birds chirped in the trees. The world was quiet and peaceful.

  I walked slowly through the trees, absorbing the sweet perfume of the flowers, and soaking in the warm sunshine. For the first time in days, I felt like things might get better. I could survive this. I didn’t need Jack Saunders. In the sunshine and falling petals, I could almost believe the lie.

  I wandered off the path, traipsing through the fallen petals and grass to a tree in the corner of the park. I sat down, feeling the rough bark pull at my jacket as I leaned back against it. I wished I knew how to paint, because this was something worth painting. The trees danced in swirls of pink and white, contrasting the pale blue of the sky and the dark blue of the river. Green grass peeked up through the fallen flowers and thick brown trunks rose from the ground. A gosling tottered behind its black and gray mother, trying to mimic her wobbly gait.

  “You always seem to pick the spots with the best view,” a deep voice said from the other side of the tree. My chest tightened and for a moment I couldn’t breathe as I dared to hope. A sandy head peeked around the low gnarled branches, hazel eyes bright against the blossoms.

  “I don’t pick them. They pick me,” I said softly. I was surprised I could speak at all. A war of emotions was waging within my head. Part of me was still angry at the hurt he had caused, part of me was afraid this was all in my mind, but most of me was lost in love. He sat down next to me, leaning against the rough tree bark.

  The universe seemed to hold its breath. He was close enough to touch, our knees and shoulders barely inches from touching, yet far enough that it would require movement. I knew he was there for me, there was no other reason for him to be at Water Works Park in Iowa, but I still couldn’t believe it.

  “I need to apologize,” he said softly, staring out at the river. A pink blossom floated down gently and landed in his hair. “My mother told me you tried to return the money when she first gave it to you. The things I said, they were cruel... and untrue.”

  I nodded, barely daring to blink for fear he might vanish. I couldn’t speak, the words too big to even fit in my mouth. He took a deep breath.

  “You’ve been gone less than a week and I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t concentrate and I don’t sleep without knowing you are safe and nearby. I miss you at dinner. I can’t concentrate at work because I know you won’t be there.” He played with a flower at his feet. “I have always been alone, but I don’t want to be alone—I can’t be alone without you anymore.”

  He turned and looked at me, his hazel eyes almost green today. They captured me, held me in their depths so that I didn’t need to breathe. His hands reached for mine, and I wasn’t sure which one of us was trembling more, but together we were strong.

  “I love you, Emma.”

  I didn’t think. I leaned forward and kissed him. I kissed him like it was the only thing that mattered in this world, like we were the only people in all of creation and we existed solely for this kiss. Time stood wondrously still and somehow flew by at the same time as our lips connected and my world righted itself.

  “I love you too,” I whispered as we broke apart. His smile rivaled the sun. I would have traded the moon and the stars for that smile. He brushed a blossom from my hair, letting his fingers then trace the line of my jaw before bringing me to him for a second kiss. If the first one was good, this one blew it out of the water. Every fiber in my being trembled with happiness.

  He pulled me close to him, our bodies touching as he held me. Pink flowers floated gently to the ground, dancing around us with joy at our reunion. The sun was brighter and the sky bluer. His arms wrapped around me, filling me with warmth and joy. I leaned into him and he softly kissed my head as we looked out at the lake and the falling blossoms, the world falling back into place.

  Epilogue:

  The sand is warm beneath my toes, the sun shining down happily and making everything bright. A light breeze off the ocean ruffles my dress as I smile at my dad and take his arm. He looks so proud as he turns to guide me towards the water and to the man I love.

  Jack stands by the ocean in white linen, apparently at ease to everyone but me. I can see the way his jaw is tightened, the slight clench in his hand and the perfect posture despite appearing at ease. H
e relaxes slightly as our eyes meet, the tension melting as he smiles at me like I am the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

  I’m next to Jack before I can even take a breath, my father kissing me softly on the cheek and shaking Jack’s hand before leaving me. I can’t stop the blush that floods my cheeks as I look at Jack, the sheer happiness radiating out of him infectious. He holds out a hand for mine, and as our hands connect, I’m not nervous anymore. My world is exactly the way it is supposed to be.

  The minister begins speaking, but I’m not paying attention to him. I can hear sniffling behind me, and Mrs. Saunders keeps dotting at her eyes with a soft white handkerchief. My own mother is leaning her head to my father’s shoulder, tears falling unabashedly down her face. My father’s eyes are bright with tears and his feet covered in fine white sand from walking me to where I now stand.

  Jack smiles and I am back to him. He is all that matters today. I can’t help but smile, can’t help but feel this joy flooding through me. We are two people in love, finally getting married.

  Jack takes my hand and slides on a ring. It isn’t big or gaudy—a simple diamond in a simple white gold setting. He promises to love me forever. I promise the same and slide a simple matching man’s ring onto his left hand. I know I am shaking, but it is with love and happiness. The minister has us repeat his words, but they are just words. I am looking at Jack, our eyes telling one another more than words ever could.

  I can hear cameras clicking, but I don’t care. They are allowed to be here this time. I don’t care how much my dress costs, what the ring looks like or what color the flowers are. Today is for me and Jack. All I care about is that those hazel eyes are holding mine. All I care about is this joy between us, this joy that is ours alone. The joy that we are choosing to share with those we love, as we are wed in truth.