by J A Stone
As Corey put her head down on his shoulder, she said dreamily, “Do you remember how we won the dance contest at my senior prom?”
She felt Tripp nod his head as they continued to sway around the room. Corey suddenly realized that the cold air was causing goose bumps to form on her exposed arms. “Have you ever heard about this thing called an energy crisis that we’re in?”
Tripp looked confused. “And . . . you are asking me this now because . . . ?”
“I can’t imagine how much you spend on electricity keeping this place this cold all the time.”
“Ah . . . but don’t you like snuggling in the cold? It’s so much nicer than snuggling in the sweaty heat.”
“But so environmentally irresponsible,” she said, smiling up at him.
“I like being irresponsible,” Tripp whispered next to her ear. “You ought to try it—you’ll like it too.”
His breath on her ear was enticing. Corey turned just enough in his arms so that he could kiss her neck, should he want to. To her delight, he did. As Robert Plant crooned his last “and she’s buying a stairway to heaven,” she felt different types of chills radiating through her body from the spot on her neck where his lips touched. When she moaned softly, his arms tightened, and his lips moved to her lips. His hands began to move down her back, pulling her in closer to him, and Corey began to feel that same melting sensation she’d experienced in the car. Then, abruptly, he wrenched himself away from her. “Let’s go lie down where we can be more comfortable?”
Corey felt abandoned standing there alone in the middle of the floor without his arms around her. Tripp stood in front of Corey with his hand outstretched, waiting patiently for her to make a decision. Directly behind Tripp, Corey could see the sliding glass door. A part of her wanted to say her good-byes, go through that sliding glass door, and head for home. It was the smart thing to do. After all these years, did she even know this man? Yet another part of her wanted desperately to stay. After all, this was Tripp, her Tripp, not some stranger she’d picked up at the Sunset Grill.
Being back at Mexico Beach, and being in Tripp’s beach house, Corey felt like she was that younger version of herself—the one who did impulsive things and didn’t worry about the consequences. She pushed all logical thought about what she was doing out of her mind. These feelings were intoxicating, as much as or more so than the wine she’d drunk earlier. Without saying a word, she put her hand in his, and they walked arm in arm to his bedroom.
Later, much later, they lay in his bed intertwined, not speaking. Unfortunately, Corey’s brain was once again beginning to override her emotions. What had she done? She felt guilty, as though she had cheated on Luke. Yet even those feelings of guilt didn’t stop the electric tingling in her arm where Tripp’s fingers lightly stroked in a rhythmic motion. Then his hand slid up the side of her leg, and she felt an urgency that caught her by surprise. Corey’s brain was on the verge of shutting down once more when Tripp’s cell phone rang. She couldn’t help but look down at it on the nightstand beside her. She saw that someone named Lucy was calling. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost eleven—too late for a casual caller. Corey felt a cold rush of reality sweep over her as Tripp reached over her, picked up the phone, looked at the name, and put it back down on the nightstand. He rolled over onto his back beside her, placed his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.
“Who’s Lucy?” Corey asked in a soft, steely voice.
Tripp took a deep breath, still looking at the ceiling. “She’s a friend. We go out sometimes.”
Corey felt her breath catch in her throat. Yet on some instinctual level, she realized she wasn’t surprised by his words. “You mean . . . she’s your girlfriend?” Corey turned to stare pointedly at him. “How come you failed to mention Lucy at dinner tonight?”
“Come on, Corey.” Tripp sat up in bed. “I’ve been divorced for two years. Did you think I was a monk?”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Each word came out terse and tight.
The house phone rang in the living room. Tripp looked relieved. “I was going fishing tonight. Lucy’s probably worried, since I haven’t called her to let her know I’m back safely.”
This last statement acknowledging that his relationship with this woman had advanced far enough that she would check up on his safety infuriated Corey. When she spoke, her words were like icicles, sharp and pointed. “Well, by all means, then . . . please go answer the phone. I should have been gone a long time ago anyway.”
Corey gathered her clothes from the floor and scurried into the bathroom. She heard him say, “No, I didn’t go fishing. I went to dinner in Port Saint Joe with an old friend, Corey Bennett. We sort of grew up together here at the beach. No, you’ve never met her. I don’t know. She’s just here for a couple of weeks.”
His evasive statements fed the clear, crisp anger swelling within Corey. Suddenly she was ten years old again, and Tripp had just abandoned her because someone he thought would be more fun had appeared unexpectedly. She dressed quickly. When she opened the bathroom door, he was sitting on the side of the bed in his boxer shorts, holding his head in his hands. He looked up when she entered the room.
“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you about Lucy. I really don’t. I’ve been dating her for several months, but I don’t know where it’s going. She’s a sweet girl. I guess I just didn’t want to make more out of it than there is. And I just . . . I mean . . . I didn’t—”
“Yeah, I know,” Corey interrupted him. “Why should you complicate things with Lucy? After all, I’ll be gone in a couple of weeks, and she’ll never have to know about this little”—Corey paused, looking for the right word—“fling with me, will she?”
Tripp’s face turned red. “Now wait a minute. I’m not like that, and you know it.”
“I haven’t laid eyes on you in almost a decade. I really don’t know you that well.”
Tripp challenged her with angry eyes. “Well, you should know me just a little better after tonight.”
Corey felt a sudden urge to kick him like she had at the table. Instead, she turned and stomped to the door.
Tripp’s anger seemed to evaporate instantly. “Wait, don’t leave like this.” Corey opened the door. “I’ve got to be in Panama City for an early meeting tomorrow morning. Why don’t you stay awhile longer, and let’s talk this thing through?”
“There’s nothing to talk through. You haven’t changed a bit since . . . since the fifth grade.” Corey noticed the blank look on his face, but she wasn’t going to stay and explain. “Just leave me alone, Tripp. Just leave me alone!” And with those words still hanging in the air, Corey went down the stairs and out into the dark night.
The house phone was ringing when she unlocked the beach-house door. Probably Tripp, she thought, and she let it ring. She went upstairs and started the shower and brushed her teeth. Corey wished the hot water could wash away the memories of what had just happened. She also wished she could blame everything on the alcohol. But in all honesty, she had to admit she’d known exactly what she was doing. It had felt good, and it had been so long since she’d felt much of anything at all. No, she couldn’t blame what had happened on the alcohol.
She also had to admit that curiosity had played a role in what had happened. Somewhere deep inside of her, she had always wondered what it would be like making love with Tripp. Now she knew. It was fantastic. She could cross that off her bucket list and move on. Corey wasn’t going to play the role of Tripp’s always available friend, particularly a friend with benefits, ever again. It had taken her a long time in college to realize that Tripp didn’t feel what she felt for him. It had taken even longer to let go of the hope that one day he might. But eventually she had. Tonight, a few of those long-dormant feelings had sparked to life. Lucy had been the cold water that had finally snuffed them out for good.
CHAPTER 6
The incessant ringing of the house phone woke Corey up the next morning
. When she looked at her cell phone to see what time it was, she realized it was dead. As the ringing continued, she made her way downstairs to answer the phone.
“Are you okay?” Diane asked when Corey picked up the phone.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Corey replied grumpily.
“Where were you last night?” Diane’s voice was eerily reminiscent of the voice their mother had used when they were in trouble. “I called your cell phone and the house phone like a hundred times.”
Corey thought about making something up, but she wasn’t that quick. “I went to dinner in Port Saint Joe with Tripp MacKinnon last night. Oh, and I haven’t charged my cell phone since I’ve been here, so the battery went dead.”
“Well, how was it?” Diane’s voice had an immediate change in tenor.
“Dinner was great,” Corey said brightly. “But before you go getting any ideas, he has a girlfriend.”
“I used to think you two would end up together,” Diane continued. “You are so much alike.”
“Really,” Corey said. “Because last night, I realized how very different we are.”
“Okay, okay,” Diane said. “At least you got out and did something fun. Have you been watering the plant?”
“Of course,” Corey lied. She hadn’t thought about the plant one time since she’d been there. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Corey went downstairs to water the ficus tree and noticed a white piece of paper under the windshield wiper of her car.
I’ll be away for the next two days. Please call this number after 5:00 p.m., and let’s talk.
She tore the paper into pieces and threw them in the trash can. She was done thinking about Tripp MacKinnon, and that was a fact! The weather seemed to mirror her emotions as dark clouds swirled overhead. No beach today. She guessed she would stay in her pajamas and watch old movies. Somehow that didn’t seem as appealing as it had just two days ago.
A tiny yellow MINI Cooper pulled up as she started to go up the stairs. An almost entirely gray-headed woman was waving at her from behind the steering wheel. After a moment, Corey realized it was Fran, and she walked over to the car. “I’ve been calling all morning to see if you wanted to go to the mall in Panama City. I’ve got to get some makeup and take the boat cushions to get them restitched. It’s supposed to rain all day, and I’d love the company.”
“I’m not dressed,” Corey said, pointing down to her pajamas and thinking how wonderful it was that someone whom she hadn’t seen in years still cared enough about her to invite her to spend the day with her.
“I’m not leaving right now. I’ve got to go to the marina and get the cushions off the boat. I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so. Go get dressed.”
Why not? Corey thought. “Okay, I’ll be ready.” And just like that, the empty day that had stretched before her was full. She was glad, because if she’d had too much time on her hands, she might have started trying to put those pieces of paper back together again.
Diane arrived the next day and brought the sunshine with her as well as a ton of groceries. “Look at your tree! It has tiny green nubs forming. I think it’s going to make it, and I had my doubts. Come on and help me carry all of this stuff up.”
After what felt like a hundred trips up and down the stairs, Corey sat in amazement and watched the whirling dervish that was her sister simultaneously put up groceries, put a ham in the oven, and talk nonstop about her trip to Tampa. After a while, Diane paused long enough to look critically at Corey. “You know, the ficus isn’t the only thing that’s looking better around here, though you still need some work on your tan. Come on, I’m done here. Let’s go to the beach.”
Diane and Corey were drinking margaritas on the beach. “It doesn’t get any better than this, does it?” Corey asked. They’d spent almost two full days lounging on the beach—reading, eating, and drinking. Corey couldn’t remember ever being so lazy in her adult life.
“No . . . but unfortunately, I need to go up and shower. Jack will be here in a couple of hours, and he might appreciate a clean wife. It’s the least I can do since I left him alone all week.”
“I’ll go up too,” Corey said, after picking up one bikini strap and looking at her slightly pink shoulders. “I think I’ve had enough sun for the day. Thank God for sunscreen.”
They gathered their stuff and started to walk up the beach path. Corey’s stomach quivered in some weird way when she saw the white Yukon just pulling up under the MacKinnon house. Tripp got out, waved, and waited for them to approach. Corey thought the dark aviator sunglasses he wore with his black business suit made him look like an FBI agent.
“Hey, Tripp, thanks for entertaining my sister during my absence,” Diane said cheerfully.
“It was my pleasure,” Tripp replied without a hint of sarcasm and without looking at Corey. “Glad to see the umbrella is okay.”
“What?” Diane looked at Corey questioningly.
“I forgot to tell you. The wind blew it away, and Tripp saved it for us.” Corey’s voice was expressionless.
“So I owe you double?” Diane gave a little laugh. “I guess the only way to pay you back is to invite you to dinner. Jack is going to grill steaks when he gets here. Come on over about seven and we’ll have cocktails.”
Tripp still hadn’t looked at Corey. “Sounds great. I’ll see y’all at seven.”
Corey had known she was going to have to face him sooner or later. She’d stupidly hoped that he might stay away from the beach for the remainder of her vacation. But of course that would have meant that he had some consideration for her feelings.
Jack and Tripp were downstairs by the grill, drinking beer and telling stories. Corey could hear them laughing, which really irritated her. She supposed it was because Tripp seemed to be experiencing no awkwardness over what had happened between them. He had arrived promptly at seven, not long after Jack, greeted all of them as casually as could be, and since then, he and Jack had been downstairs supposedly getting the charcoal started. But the smoke plume billowing up the side of the house indicated that the charcoal had long ago passed the starting point.
“I’m done here. Do you want to go downstairs and join the guys?” Diane asked from the kitchen.
“And fight the heat and the horseflies? Nah, let’s just sit on the sunporch and be comfortable,” Corey answered lightly.
After a while, Tripp came up as carefree as could be to get the steaks and some more beers. He teased Diane about hiding the pepper shaker, and while he was looking in the cabinet for it, Corey tried hard not to look at him. For when she did, she felt too much. Looking at his lips, she remembered how they tasted. Looking at his hands, she remembered how they felt. Then she’d remember Lucy, and her anger blocked out every other feeling, except for the guilt that was interwoven through all her feelings. How could she have gone to bed so casually with Tripp?
“Let’s eat,” Jack announced, putting the steaks on the breakfast bar along with Diane’s potato salad, freshly sliced tomatoes, lady finger peas, and sweet tea. “Look at this feast. Has any man ever had a better wife? Come here, woman, and give me a great big kiss. I’ve missed you!”
“You’re drunk,” Diane said. But Corey could see from Diane’s smile as she raised her face for his kiss that she was pleased by the attention. Corey and Tripp looked everywhere but at each other while Jack and Diane were kissing.
“Mmm-mmm, good!” Jack exclaimed, before folding his large frame into the chair at the end of the table and motioning for everyone else to join him.
“So . . . Tripp,” Diane said as they were eating, “Corey tells me you have a girlfriend. How come I haven’t seen her with you down here? Must not be that serious.”
Corey felt her face grow warm. She noticed that Tripp’s face seemed to have a slight tinge of red as well. Without addressing whether it was serious or not, he said, “She’s a nurse at Dothan General. She works weekends.”
“What’s her name? Where’s she from?” Diane sounded like a police sergeant grilli
ng a prisoner.
“Lucy Conroy,” Tripp answered tonelessly. “She’s from Ohio. She moved to Dothan about a year ago.”
“Oh no, not a damn Yankee!” Diane said with mock horror.
“Okay, let’s leave Tripp alone,” Corey interrupted. “I think he’s had enough of the inquisition for one night.” She wondered idly what Lucy might think about Tripp’s KA chant as they finished up dinner in a companionable manner. Diane ushered them out to the sunporch for coffee and some of her famous triple-chocolate delight.
“That was a fabulous dinner,” Tripp said. “I hate to call it a night, but surprise, surprise, I’m going fishing in the morning, and six comes awfully early. You want to come, Jack?”
Jack looked at Diane like a hungry puppy begging for food. “Go ahead,” Diane said laughingly.
“You and Corey could come too?” Tripp offered casually.
“That’s a bit early for me,” Corey said quickly before Diane could accept for both of them.
“And Marcy’s coming home from camp tomorrow anyway,” Diane added. “Corey, why don’t you see Tripp out, and you can water that plant of yours, which we forgot to do today.” Diane turned without waiting for an answer and started stacking the dishes.
There was no way to gracefully avoid going outside with Tripp, so Corey rose and followed him out the door.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Tripp asked as soon as the door closed behind them.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Corey said bluntly, continuing to walk down the stairs.
“Damn it, Corey. I don’t want a one-night stand with you. Let’s try to see how this thing between us might play out.”
Corey’s anger, simmering below the surface all night, exploded. She turned to him halfway down the stairs. “You want to know how this will play out? Well, let me tell you right now. In seven days, I’m going back to Atlanta. That’s where I live, where I work. Oh sure, we could make plans to get together in a few weeks. We might even pull it off once or maybe twice. But I’m a city girl, and didn’t you already have one relationship go bad with a city girl? And what about sweet Lucy? Are you going to keep seeing her as well? I’m not much for sharing. Have you forgotten that?” Corey paused to catch her breath and tried to finish more calmly. “The best thing for us to do is to forget about what happened the other night. Chalk it up to too much wine or whatever, and let it go.”