“Race you to the bathroom!”
He couldn’t wait to lather her up.
***
Simplicity unzipped her favorite flower sweater—the one she remembered her mom wearing the most, and the one she tended to wear as often as possible, too.
“I can’t believe how warm it is today.”
Ethan grimaced. “Yeah, unseasonably warm. If I had known, I would have picked a different week.”
“Why? It’s so beautiful out!”
“Exactly, which means the place will be crawling with people.”
“You can hide behind me.” She inhaled through the cracked open window. “I can smell spring in the air. Can you smell it?”
Ethan looked over her with that same alien look he kept giving her.
“That shower was amazing, by the way.”
“Thank you. I particularly enjoyed that move where we—”
“I was actually referring to the shower itself. I’ll have to talk Freedom into upgrading her shower.” She reached over and massaged his thigh as he drove down the narrow roads. “Wow, it’s busy out here today.”
She felt him tense beneath her hand. She didn’t have to be a psychoanalyst to know why.
Warm weather meant less clothing under which to hide. Warm weather also brought out more people. More people meant more gawking. More gawking meant more feeling bad about himself and his scars.
“I’m so excited that I get to be seen with the most handsome and most eligible bachelor on the east coast.”
He shook his head and smirked.
“Embarrassed, you mean?”
“Well, I do feel a bit unworthy to be with you. Thanks for pointing out my insufficiencies.”
She pretended to pout, watching as his face reddened.
“That’s not what I was saying.”
“I know. But if you’re going to do the self-pity thing, so am I.”
He glared at her before returning his attention to the road.
“You know what happens to people who talk to me that way?”
“You whisk them away for an afternoon of beach walking, followed by a passionate session of thunderous lovemaking on your million dollar sheets?”
“You must have a death wish.”
“I must.” She went back to watching the people drift in and out of little shops, laughing and talking and clutching their expensive cups of gourmet coffee.
A short drive later, Ethan pulled into a parking lot directly across from the ocean. Simplicity breathed the ocean air into her lungs, shivering at the cold wind coursing through the otherwise warm day.
Ethan draped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her to his side. Best coat ever.
“What are you thinking, Ethan?”
He kissed the top of her head, but didn’t respond.
The urge to know what thoughts buzzed through his head was overwhelming.
She stopped walking as soon as they had crossed the street to the side where they were closest to the ocean waves and the rocky shore.
“I want to know.”
He hesitated for a moment, but then turned her toward him. She looked up into his serious expression, trying to decipher what he tried to hide.
“Aren’t my thoughts transparent?” he whispered.
She wasn’t even sure she heard him correctly.
“Transparent? You? Ethan, love. Nothing about you is transparent.”
“I like that.”
“You like not being transparent? Obviously.”
“No.” He gripped her hips. “I like when you call me ‘love.’”
“You do, huh? Well, love, tell me what you were thinking. Love.” She winked at him. He tried to shut her up with a kiss.
It worked for a moment.
“I was thinking,” he paused, kissing the corners of her mouth. “I was thinking about what I’d be doing right now if Miss Molly hadn’t insisted on enrolling me in that godforsaken program of hers.”
“You’d be missing me, love.” She reached up and greedily demanded another kiss. “You wouldn’t know it, but your heart would be missing me.”
He studied her face, and she hoped he saw everything she felt written plainly in her expression.
She didn’t think he was ready to hear her declare her love for him, and she didn’t want to chase him away. She’d wait for the right time. She already knew he was the right person.
“Come on. Let’s walk.”
He kept his arm around her as they walked through the muddy path. He held her upright when she nearly tripped on the slippery ground.
“What is all this slippery stuff? Looks like dog poop, but I can’t imagine this many people not cleaning up after their animals.”
“Goose poop. No one wants to claim ownership of them.”
“Oh. Eww.”
They passed several benches on their left—and she stopped to read each and every memorial plaque. What a great idea to memorialize a loved one in this manner. A sea gull flew directly in front of them, making them pause in their movements.
“Oh, look. He’s looking right at us.” Simplicity snuggled into Ethan’s chest. “I think he’s trying to tell us something.”
“He’s trying to decide if he can get away with eating your face. Seagulls are the pigs of the beach.”
“Shh. I’m listening to him. Can you repeat that, please?” Simplicity leaned forward. She knew she couldn’t understand a bird’s language, but as she pretended to have a conversation with the gull, inspiration hit. “Oh, good idea! Ethan—tell me what you think of this idea. What if I create more than a simple food program in town? What if the foundation can get enough resources to have a community center? We could serve meals, provide recreation, a friendly gathering place for everyone. Oh, we could have an arts and crafts room. We could sell the crafts to raise more funds, but the primary goal would be to enhance and explore our creativity. A music room would be great, too, wouldn’t it?”
Her thoughts came a mile a minute, and she could barely keep up with one before the next one was pouring out of her mouth. The bird listened politely. So did Ethan.
“We won’t have the funds to buy a building, but maybe a church would let us use their basement to start? Or maybe Rogan can get his builder friends to donate their time to build a building on Freedom’s property. I’m sure I could convince her of the benefits. Then again, her property might be too far from town to benefit the population we’d be serving. We wouldn’t have to limit the community center to only people who have limited resources, though. Wouldn’t it be magical if everyone in the community gathered there to celebrate and support each other?”
“Those are some big ideas, Simplicity. And I think you lost me in the first sentence.”
The bird squawked.
“Think you’ve lost him, too. He’s wondering where his snack is.”
“Sorry, birdie. We don’t have any snacks for you.”
The bird made an annoyed noise at them, then flew away. Simplicity watched it soar over the waves, bobbing close to the surface before rising again. Other birds joined it in flight. Simplicity smiled at the careless ease in which the birds asserted their freedom.
“Thanks for the inspiration, bird, even if you were sort of rude.”
Ethan kicked a pebble over the sea wall, watching it crash onto the rocks below. “I have something to show you.”
He pulled her ahead a few yards, then stopped. He didn’t tell her what she was supposed to see.
“Is this a special spot to you?”
He nodded. She looked around.
“Wow—are those stairs built into the sea rock?”
“They are.”
“Can we go down there?”
“Why don’t we sit and rest for a minute first.”
“We haven’t walked very far, Ethan.” Did he have an injury she didn’t know about? “But yes, a rest would be perfect.”
“Bummer. This bench’s dedication is covered. I like reading them.”
“It�
��s a work in progress.”
“That makes sense. I hope it’s that and not that someone defaced the memorial or something.”
“It’s that. Trust me.”
She giggled at his silliness disguised as seriousness. “Okay, if you say so. I’d much rather believe your version of the story.”
He peeled away the tape covering the dedication plate.
“Ethan! Don’t do that!”
“Why not? It’s mine. Well, yours, really.”
Her blood stopped flowing. Her legs went numb. Her throat started to itch.
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s blank for now, but it’s paid for. You have to decide what words you want to put on. For your mother. I’ll show you the website where you can enter the information when we get back to the house.”
She didn’t have time to attempt to quell the tears. They erupted like lava, burning her face as they flowed.
“You. You.” She squeezed the sides of her head, trying to make sense of the emotions thundering through her. “You did this? For my mom?”
He grabbed her shaking hands and raised them to his lips.
“For you.”
She gripped the front of his sweatshirt and sobbed into his chest. He patiently rubbed her shoulders and let her let it out.
When her tears were winding down, he pulled a stack of tissues from his pocket.
“I thought you might need these.”
She laughed at his words and his gesture. Really, truly laughed. Drop down, crunched over belly laughs. She laughed so hard she thought her stomach had turned to rock. She laughed until he did the unthinkable.
He smiled.
Not a self-deprecating smile. Not a smirk. Not a trace of meanness.
A real, genuine, normal-person smile.
“Ethan. Love.”
She touched his face as if testing to see if his good cheer was an illusion. She felt the swell of his cheeks along his scruff-line. Her thumb danced over the upturned lips, pausing in the corners to test the creases.
“You are a good, good man.”
“No. Not really. I’m just trying to give you a little bit of what you deserve.”
No longer interested in the waves or the birds or the stairs in the rock, she stared at him until he cleared his throat.
“Is this a good spot? For your mother, I mean.”
“Oh, yes. She would love it here. She’d spend hours sitting on a bench like this, watching the waves. She’d probably make friends with the geese and the gulls. She’d bring her sketch book to draw the scene before her, and she’d love watching the ebb and flow of the tides. This is the perfect place for her, Ethan. Thank you.”
They sat there until the sun began to set and Ethan’s belly began to rumble.
Walking back to the car, Simplicity marveled at the turn her life had taken since meeting Ethan.
In spite of her sisters’ reservations, the changes were all for the better.
Chapter Fifteen
While Ethan agreed with Simplicity that the weekend had gone too fast, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had to happen to sabotage the positive feelings she evoked in him.
She worked hard to convince him that he deserved to feel good. That he could have a life after his trauma. That he was entitled to walk in the sunshine.
She didn’t say those things to him, but she sent those messages in the kind of waves that rivaled even the highest Newport tide.
But still. The pesky feeling remained. The feeling that nothing good could last forever. That they were playing out a fantasy while alone in their little bubble, but adding external forces to the mix would destroy the whole base.
His feelings were validated on the ride home.
“Ethan,” Simplicity said, turning down the music.
He hated when people touched his radio while he was driving. This particular pet peeve dated back to his high school days, which was the last time he had driven with anyone socially.
He bit back his annoyance. How could she have known? And why did he feel as though his nerves were about to crawl out of his skin with little pitchforks and swords, ready to take on anyone in their path?
“Have you thought of talking with your mother?”
“What?” He swerved into the other lane before catching himself and correcting the wheel. “Where the hell did that come from?”
She lifted her feet onto the seat, bringing her knees to her chin. “I was thinking about it. You’ve talked about how cruel your dad was, and how your mom withdrew. But don’t you think maybe she’s learned something? I mean, they both may have. Maybe they’ve been punished enough?”
“They’ve been punished enough?”
“I don’t mean more than you. Never mind. I didn’t mean to bring this up. I was just thinking about how much joy you’ve given me, and I don’t want to see you hurting so much.”
“And talking to the people who drove me to the pain is going to help somehow?” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He should have known she’d try to interfere eventually. People couldn’t help themselves. Clearly he was a project for a relationship fixer-upper. He had thought she was different, but here she was, laying it all out there to shrivel in the sun.
She stared out the window, probably plotting how best to repair his broken soul. Next she’d have him seeing a plastic surgeon to fix his scars.
Fuck that. He owned that pain. It was his to keep.
The silence for the remainder of the ride chilled him. It wasn’t the comfortable silence they had come to enjoy while together. No, this silence was a suffering animal, ready to be put down. This silence was born of bitter resentment and irrational anxiety. This silence was the silence he was accustomed to living, but he knew she couldn’t thrive in the depths of this darkness.
He noticed her repeatedly bringing a hand to her face as if wiping away a tear.
His heart twisted inside him. He had been rough with her. Yes, her line of questioning annoyed the hell out of him, but she had never even raised her voice to him. Why couldn’t he control his temper? She didn’t know that his relationship with his parents was off-limits.
He opened his mouth to form an apology as he pulled into her driveway, but became distracted by the group of people sitting on the front porch of one of the buildings. It had been nearly sixty degrees down in Rhode Island all weekend, and his car’s thermostat told him it was in the high forties in Healing Springs. In New Hampshire in early March, that was practically a heat wave. Not one person wore a coat.
All eyes turned to him as he pulled closer to the building.
He was accustomed to people staring with their pitying eyes, but he was especially raw without the protective gear he had relied on for almost ten years.
“Thank you for the best weekend of my life.”
Her face was red and puffy, and he hated himself. Despised every worthless cell in his broken, warped body.
“I’ll get your bag.”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”
Why would she want to be seen with him in front of all of these people? It was one thing to be brave and uncaring of what people thought when you didn’t know anyone, but this was her turf, and those people on the porch were her tribe. Her sister’s glare penetrated through his window, burning his skin and branding him as an eternal loser, not good enough for Simplicity. He wished he could tell Reed that he agreed.
With one leg outside the open door, she paused and studied his face for too long to be comfortable. He broke eye contact and looked at his watch as if impatient to leave.
In reality, he wanted to pull her back into the car and drive back to Newport. They could live there, sheltered from the real world. They’d never have to leave their protective bubble. They could agree to not talk about the past—only the future.
She said something to him, but he didn’t hear and didn’t want to ask her to repeat.
He watched her walk the rest of the way up the driveway. S
houlders slumped, she lacked the vibrancy she normally glowed with—the effervescence that made her stand out of a crowd. The bright light that helped him find her from down a crowded street.
As she walked away from him, he realized her light had dimmed and her step had grown heavy. All his fault.
He had damaged yet another soul.
The people on the porch knew it, too. One middle-aged woman opened her arms to Simplicity and glared at him as Simplicity walked into her embrace. They didn’t even need to ask her if something had happened—knowing she had been with him and now drifted through the air like a rapidly deflating balloon told them everything they needed to know.
Fuck this. He had been flogged enough for ten lifetimes. He wasn’t going to subject himself to it willingly.
He tore out of the parking lot like he was involved in a car chase. He was. He was trying to outrun his lost heart.
Ethan had no clue how long he drove. He didn’t want to go home—the dark cave was no longer a source of comfort after having her light it up so many times.
He couldn’t go back to Newport—she had tainted that place with her exuberance, as well.
His gas light warned him of impending doom. He laughed at the irony. Too late for a warning—he was already on his last fumes.
Luckily he still had a few minutes before the gas station downtown closed, so he whipped his car into the lot and pulled up to the pump.
He searched his car for his ear buds before remembering that he had left them home so he wouldn’t be tempted to slip into his regular habits while away with Simplicity. As he replaced the cover of his center console, something tucked between the passenger seat and the console caught his eye. Flattening his hand and stretching his fingers, he managed to grasp the black shell between his index and middle fingers.
He sat back in his seat, bringing the remnant of the most magical moment of his life to his nose and inhaling the bittersweet memory. The salty scent of the sea shot him full of images of holding her hand, kicking their shoes off, letting the frigid winter waves wash over their bare feet. Of the pleading and seductive way she had talked him into walking the beach with her that morning before hitting the road for the return home. Of her hand on his thigh as his car’s acceleration matched his heart’s.
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