“Look lady, if you’re going to eat that much, the least you could do is make sure you’re sitting on a load bearing chair.”
I slammed the chair down next to her bar stool and then stumbled backwards, the alcohol finally getting the best of me. I crashed into the table behind me where four dudes were sitting. Beer mugs fell everywhere, smashing glass across the room.
The whole bar went silent, in a state of shock. Everyone was looking at me. They’d all heard what I said to the girl. Now they knew it if they didn’t already.
I was an asshole who didn’t deserve to live.
I could feel the tension grow as everyone waited to see how she’d react.
The look on Paul’s face filled me with shame. He’d been a friend to me for a long time, but surely this was the last straw. Who could be friends with a man who’d insulted an innocent girl at a bar like this?
And the girl, when I saw her face, I felt like throwing up. When had I become this way? Where had I learned to be so cruel?
I knew the answer.
I wanted a fight. I wanted this girl to throw her glass at me. I could tell she was a feisty one. Maybe she’d finally be the one to teach me a lesson. Smash a glass in my face and put me in hospital. That’s what I deserved.
She stood up, and for a second I thought she was going to let me have but. But then, instead of doing anything, instead of screaming or yelling or clawing at me with her nails, she just burst into tears.
I did not see that coming.
I felt like dying.
She tried to speak but was crying so hard she couldn’t get the words out. Fuck. I’d wanted a fight, not this. Of all possible outcomes, this one never crossed my drunken mind.
Then, finally, she managed to string together a sentence.
She spoke softly, looking right into my dead eyes.
“You’re an asshole.”
I didn’t know what to say back. She was right.
From across the bar, Paul was walking toward me. The guys whose table I’d knocked over were gathering around me too. This was it, the fight I’d wanted.
I swung at one of the guys but he dodged my fist easily. Another guy grabbed me from behind and held me. The first one landed a fist on my face and then another guy followed it up with a powerful punch to my gut. I felt dizzy, struggling against the grip of the guy holding me. I swung my arms uselessly, trying to grab the guy’s head as his friends proceeded to punch the shit out of me, pounding my stomach, chest and face with punch after punch.
I tasted blood in my mouth and relished it.
“That’s enough,” Paul yelled, grabbing the guys and holding them back.
The guy who’d been holding me let me go and I slumped to the ground. From my knees I looked around at the bar, shame and disgust filling every ounce of my being.
This was what I’d become. A drunken, asshole brawler without a friend in the world.
“Paul,” I said, shaking my head.
“Shut up, Kane. Get the fuck out of here.”
“Paul,” I stammered again like the idiot I was.
“You’ve finally overstayed your welcome, asshole.”
The girl I’d insulted, the poor girl who’d just picked the wrong night to walk into this bar, was looking at me with a mixture of pity and disgust. I wanted to say something to her. I wanted to explain why I was such an undeniable bastard, but I couldn’t talk. There was too much blood in my mouth.
She grabbed her purse and left a hundred dollar bill on the bar.
Paul apologized to her for what happened and said her meal was on the house but she refused to take it.
I tried to stand up but lost my balance again and knocked over another chair.
“You,” she said, turning to me, “you think you’re such hot shit, well you’re not. You’re just a sad, lonely, mean drunk. I don’t know what happened to you, but it’s made you miserable and you take it out on people you don’t even know.”
I watched her walk toward the exit.
She zipped up her purse and stormed away towards the exit.
“Well fuck you, fatty,” I yelled after her.
That time it was Paul himself who landed the punch. Everything went blank for a second and then I was lying on the floor on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I tried to get up but one of the guys standing next to me put his foot on my chest.
“Stay down, asshole.”
I didn’t care. I didn’t care if they kicked the shit out of me and left me for dead. I wanted to be dead. I turned my head to the side and saw that the girl was coming back from the door. I thought she was going to yell at me some more. Everything she said about me was true, that’s why it cut so deep. As she approached I braced myself for whatever she’d say next but she stepped right over me.
She walked to the bar with grim determination on her face, grabbed the plate of untouched cheesecake, turned and made her way back toward the exit.
All at once, everyone in the bar cheered for her. They saw what I’d seen. This girl had guts. She wasn’t about to take anyone’s crap. I’d been right after all.
After the cheering died down, everyone began to leave. The guys who’d beaten me up left. Before long it was just me and Paul. I got up and slumped into a chair. Paul wiped down the bar and when he was done he called over to me. I knew what he was going to say but the fact he didn’t look at me as he said it, didn’t make eye contact, hurt worse than the words.
“That’s it. You’re done, Kane. You don’t come into my bar and speak to a woman that way.”
“Well, fuck this place,” I said, reaching into my pocket for my wallet. I pulled out enough cash to cover my tab and threw it at him. The bills landed on the floor in front of me and I shrugged. It wasn’t my problem.
I got up from the chair and began staggering toward the exit. There was blood all over my shirt and I knew my face would be a mess in the morning. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything.
As I reached the door, I heard Paul shout. He was picking up the money I’d thrown on the floor.
“Hey, Kane.”
I held up my hand and gave him the finger without looking back.
“Kane, your picture of Carolyn is here on the ground.”
I stopped. I must have flung it when I’d thrown the money at him. I staggered back and grabbed it from him without saying a word, clenching it in my fist.
CHAPTER 9
KANE
I woke up next morning with a pain in my head like a jackhammer pounding through concrete.
I turned over, looking for Steph, then remembered she never showed up last night. Paul must have told her what I’d done. What an asshole I’d been. I’d be lucky if anyone wanted to talk to me for a while.
To be honest, I was glad Steph wasn’t there. Sure, I fucked her from time to time, but I never felt good afterwards. I never liked waking up next to her. I always hated myself. Being with anyone but Carolyn still hurt like crazy and made me feel like a piece of shit. Using Steph didn’t make me feel good either.
I looked at the clock next to my bed. Six a.m. on the dot. I was so set in my routine I didn’t need to set an alarm anymore. I woke at the crack of dawn each morning and caught the early morning surf.
It took a long time to get like this though. For months, getting out of bed was a struggle. Getting back into the ocean took even longer.
The accident shook me to my core. Robbed me of everything and everyone I’d ever loved. If I’d had the courage to kill myself, I would have. I honestly don’t know what kept me from doing it. Other than surfing that is.
I went to the back deck to get a wetsuit off the clothesline. It was another perfect, cloudless day and it was already warming up. I came back in the house and noticed the crumpled up picture of Carolyn next to my keys and wallet on the kitchen table. Proof that the shit show last night hadn’t just been a bad dream.
I flattened the picture and put it up on my fridge next to the other pictures of Carolyn and her daughter,
Tamara. I paused to look at them but quickly walked away to get changed before I got sucked into another pit of depression.
I loved getting on the water early in the morning because not many people were out yet and it was peaceful. The best spot to surf wasn’t far down the highway. It was a gorgeous spot and always had perfect waves. I grabbed my things, got in my Jeep, and headed there.
The parking lot on top of the cliff was empty when I pulled up. A steep, winding trail led down from the cliffs to the beach but before heading down, I went to my lookout point. I always went there before my surf. It’s a patch of grass covered with wildflowers on an outcrop of rock hidden by trees. I go there and look out at the ocean, the morning mist rising off the water, and try to find some sort of peace inside.
Memories of Carolyn and Tamara playing and laughing in the wildflowers flashed through my mind. The girls loved it there. It was our weekly tradition to pack a picnic and come here to eat dinner and watch the sunset. Carolyn was an amazing cook and an even better mother. Sometimes, she’d make crowns for her and Tamara out of the wild flowers. Tamara fell over laughing when Carolyn made one for me too.
I never knew Tamara’s father. Carolyn was single when I met her. I’d heard about him though.
I heard about the time he threw Tamara’s puppy off a two hundred foot high bridge just to see what would happen when he hit the water. I heard about the time he held Carolyn’s head under the water in the bathtub until she almost passed out. I saw with my own eyes the bruises, scars, and cigarette burns on both Carolyn and Tamara.
Tamara was four years old when Carolyn finally decided she couldn’t take the abuse any longer. She was terrified to leave, but she was more terrified of the kind of life her daughter would have if she stayed.
One night when her ex was passed out drunk on the couch, she packed up the car and left with Tamara in the middle of the night. She drove for hours and didn’t have any idea where she was running to. She had no one to turn to and no where to go. It was pure survival instinct that kept her going.
She didn’t stop until she reached the ocean.
That’s when I met her. I’d just finished my morning surf. I was soaking wet and carrying my board up the path to the parking lot. This is the exact spot I first laid eyes on her. She was glowing in the morning sun like an angel, her little daughter asleep in her arms. She smiled at me and in that moment I knew she was the woman I’d been looking for all my life.
From then on, we were inseparable. I helped Carolyn get set up and start her new life here in Pismo Beach. She literally had nothing with her, no clothes, no furniture, and no money. I insisted they stay with me while they got settled. Days grew into weeks, and weeks grew into months and they never ended up finding their own place. I didn’t want them to. I loved having them in my home with me. I spent all my time with those two girls. When I was with them, I felt whole.
It didn’t take Tamara long to warm up to me. I never thought I wanted kids until she came into my life. The way she looked at me, the way she laughed when I threw her in the air, or clung to me when I tried to send her to kindergarten, made me feel like she was my very own flesh and blood. And that’s how I loved her, like she was my own.
One night, about a year after they moved in, I walked past Tamara’s room as Carolyn was tucking her in for the night. I heard Tamara say she wished I was her real dad, and Carolyn said she did too.
That was the only time in my life I ever cried from happiness.
The next morning I asked Tamara for permission to marry her mother. I was nervous, even though I knew she’d say yes. We planned my proposal together, taking extra care to make sure it would be as romantic as possible. Tamara insisted we make her breakfast in bed and hide the ring in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Of all the places to put an expensive engagement ring, that was about my last choice, but who was I to argue with the romantic imagination of the cutest girl in the world?
I could tell Carolyn knew something was up when she caught me nervously watching her take a bite out of the sandwich. I was half nervous about asking her, and half nervous she’d choke on the damn thing. Although my nerves didn’t give it away as much as Tamara did when she leapt to her feet on our bed and asked if the ring was in her mouth yet.
We all laughed and within seconds Carolyn’s laughter turned to tears of happiness when she opened the sandwich and found the ring.
I took it from her and cleaned it off before putting it on her finger. I told them both how much I loved them, and how my life only became complete when I found them. I promised I would never do anything to hurt them. I swore I would always protect them and keep them safe. They’d been through enough pain and suffering, and I vowed to keep them from it always.
Carolyn said yes, over and over, and then we kissed passionately. Tamara wrapped her little arms around both of us and giggled in happiness. They were my family, and everyday I thanked God for bringing them into my life.
I felt my body tense and my fists clench as I stared out at the ocean. I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. It was hard to think that terrible things could happen in a world as beautiful as the one before my eyes. I bent down and picked the two most beautiful wildflowers in the patch and headed back to my jeep to grab my board.
The ocean water was always cooler in the morning, but that’s the way I liked it. The cold hit me in a cleansing, refreshing way. I held the flowers between my teeth, climbed on my board, and paddled out into the waves, following the path of light toward the rising sun. I sat up on my board, holding the wildflowers in my hand. Softly, I said the prayer that Carolyn, Tamara and I said together every single morning.
Dear Lord,
Please keep your loving arms around our family. Keep us always protected, secured, loved and blessed.
Amen
I put the wildflowers in the ocean in front of me. They drifted away as I watched the first wave of the morning rise up before me. I paddled hard, caught the wave just as it was taking shape, and let the ocean take control.
CHAPTER 10
MEADOW
I woke with a start, glancing around the room frantically. I had no idea where I was. I wasn’t in my bedroom and it took a few seconds for the events of the day before to come rushing back to me.
I was in a motel. I’d walked out on Matt. I was in a completely new town, and some asshole had insulted me in front of the entire bar.
I rolled over to check the time on the large, outdated clock radio. Six a.m. I was exhausted, and really, I had nowhere I needed to be, so I rolled over to fall back asleep. I felt like I could sleep for a year straight.
Seconds later, my eyes shot wide open and I sat straight up in the bed. I had to get up and find a drug store before the town came to life. I was wearing last night’s makeup, yesterday’s clothes, and I didn’t need to look in a mirror to know my hair was a fright. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair.
When was the last time I ever left the house without my hair and makeup done?
Never.
I was not looking forward to going out in public like this.
Before I left my room, I wanted to know exactly where I was going so I could get there as quickly as possible. I grabbed my purse and reached inside for my phone, sitting back down on the bed to do a quick search. I hit the home button and got no response. I hit the home button again, and then every other button a few times before finally accepting that my phone had died.
Of course I forgot my charger.
I put my shoes on, grabbed my sunglasses, and left without even glancing at the mirror. Why look when I already knew what I’d see?
At least it was already sunny out so I could hide behind my shades. I got in my car and drove around to the Motel lobby. As much as I didn’t want to be seen, I did want the free coffee I saw advertised when I checked in. I approached the door and was relieved when I looked through the glass and didn’t see anyone at the front desk. I could sneak in, grab my coffee and
be on my way.
I opened the door and an electronic bell chimed above my head.
Damnit, I grumbled to myself.
“Good morning, Miss. You’re up early. Did you sleep well?”
The receptionist was an older woman, just emerging from the back room.
“Ha, ha. I did. Sorry to disturb you, I just wanted to grab a coffee.”
“Oh, no disruption at all. The overnight shift can be a lonely one, so this is my favorite time, when the guests start to wake up. What brings you to Pismo Beach?” she asked with a smile.
Clearly, my plan to grab a coffee without being spotted had failed. Not only did it fail, but I ran into the one person who was desperate enough for human interaction that she was willing to talk to me without any makeup on.
It was hard to be too annoyed with her though. She was friendly and polite and I gave her a genuine smile.
“Well, I guess you could say I ended up here by accident. I left Palo Alto yesterday, determined to drive as far away as possible. This is as far as I got.”
“Well, what a lovely town for you to stumble upon. I’ve lived here my entire life. My late husband and I opened this motel together forty-eight years ago.”
She pointed proudly at the portrait of the couple in their younger years hanging on the wall behind her.
“I hope you’re staying a while. It’s so beautiful this time of year. I’m sure your room is available for the next couple nights.”
She flipped through the reservation book to double check.
“Oh, I don’t think so. I really should be on my way.”
“I didn’t realize you were on a schedule. Where are you headed?”
I still hadn’t given it any thought.
Where was I going?
What was I doing?
Did I really think leaving my husband would be as simple as getting in my car and driving away?
“I just need to get away. Far away.”
“And this isn’t far enough?”
“I don’t think so.”
The lady nodded as if she knew exactly what I meant.
“Trouble with your old man?” she said, genuinely concerned.
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