by Jax Hart
“Really? Well, Ms. Nobody appears quite flexible.”
“And crazy.”
“Yeah, I could’ve told you any girl on a “Tonight” app would be crazy.
I shrug. “Crazy is nothing I can’t handle. I just don’t do repeats.”
“I can’t believe my brother is such a slut. What’s turned you off of relationships?”
“Besides Mom and Dad?”
“They were hardly the model couple, I’m not letting their screwed-up marriage keep me from wanting my own someday.”
I sigh, “Why are women such romantics?”
“Why are men such pigs?”
“We aren’t pigs. In fact, I’m quite civilized.”
“It was her… what was her name? That girl you chased through prep school? … Amelia Grantham?” My face twisted into a scowl. Even now years later, the memories of teenage angst and heartache she caused left a bitter memory.
“Ah! It was her, wasn’t it?” Char started tapping furiously away on her phone. “I just friend requested her, added her to my Linked-in and Insta.”
“Thanks for reminding me why we don’t see each other more often.” The sound of her perfectly painted fingernails feverishly tapping on the screen of her phone lasted for minutes. When it stopped, she smirked waving her phone in my face.
“I’m driving!”
“She’s fat. Divorced and living on Broke-As-Fuck Island.”
“Guess her great romance with Brett Barrington III wasn’t such a ride into the sunset, eh?”
“See? Can you stop being such a man-whore now and get a decent girlfriend?”
“Maybe. But so far I haven’t found any keepers in the dating pool.”
“Then go fish in a different pond.”
My eyes snapped to hers. Sometimes I think Char is the smart one. Not that I’d ever tell her that. Maybe I have been a bit lonely. My work phone and laptop— hardly the best friend or lover. After a stressful week in the office, I had thought nothing of a quick hookup or two using the dating app as a way to relieve stress. And for a while it was fun, until the allure of it wore off when I realized I was cheapening myself with nothing but dirty, quick lays.
With that food for thought, I turned down memory lane. Literally. It was just like I remembered. The same crooked stop sign was at the main intersection. The same blue house sat on the corner lot.
“Do you ever wish you could go back in time and be a kid again?” Char asked as I pulled down old, familiar roads in the beach community that once upon a time was a second home.
“Not really.”
“Ugh, do you have any sensitivity at all?”
“Umm, I did just strip down to save dolphins…”
“Stop the car!” Char slapped the dash excitedly as her eyes got wide.
There it was. The clapboard cottage by the sea where we had some of the best and worst times with a “For Sale” sign stuck in the ground out front.
“Let’s call the realtor. I need to see it.”
I turned off the car and rolled down my window. While Char was excited with cheeks full of roses and eyes remembering romantic summer nights, this trip back in time left me feeling like a bad hangover.
“Come on!”
“You go ahead,” I waved her on. Instead, she opened my door.
“The best way to get over the past is to face it.”
“Now she’s a therapist?”
“I’m your twin. What I say trumps a therapist. Now come!” She yanked my arm. Reluctantly, I got out of the car, following her down the flagstone path to the wrap around porch. “These views are amazing!”
My balled fists were in the pocket of my work pants. “Yeah. It’s easy to get lost in dreams and what if’s out here.” My eyes scanned the dunes, covered with waving sea grass to the ocean sitting behind it like glass. “Sometimes I thought if I searched the waves, the sea would reflect back the answers to all my questions.”
“Me too,” she sighed, laying her head on my arm. I couldn’t help but notice the trickle of tears streaming down her face. Her light green eyes were soft and hazy. “I miss it here. I wish we could have a do over for all those summer nights we lost hiding under the covers of our bunk beds while Mom and Dad lost their shit.”
I frowned. Char wore such a front—I had no idea she was still scarred by the past. In that moment, I wanted to be her hero. Her protector. After all she might’ve been older, but I was much bigger and tougher. I pulled out my cell and phoned the agent, telling her I was a cash buyer and wanted the property immediately.
She came to a screeching stop at the curb ten minutes later. “Mr. Carmichael.”
“Just Chase.”
“And Mrs. Carmichael?”
“His twin, Charlie,” my sister snorted, shaking the agent’s hand. I didn’t much care for the agent’s blonde blowout, fake D’s, and faker tan. Or the way she sized me up.
“Let me show you around—”
“I’m quite familiar with the layout,” I had cut her off, striding inside.
“Oh? You’ve been here before?” Her eyes were on my ass as she spoke.
“Yeah. I had a hot summer hook up who rented here one year.”
“Oh…” She clutched the chunky necklace at her throat. I threw her a wink just to fuck with her.
“I’ll take it. Fifty-grand less. Cash. Close in a week.”
“But… the view….”
“It needs work. A lot of work. An updated kitchen and fresh paint. Don’t think I missed the dry rot around the window casings. Who knows what condition the roof’s in? On second thought 100k under asking. Firm.”
“Let me see what I can do.” She walked away pressing her cell to her ear.
“Are you insane?” Char hissed.
“What? I can afford it.”
“Just how much does a hedge fund attorney make?”
“A lot. Especially since Nana left enough money to pay for college through law school. I didn’t use mine on high rents in Manhattan or summer’s in the Hamptons like somebody I know. Besides this place is a moneymaker. I could get 20k a week on Airbnb.”
“A moneymaker or a babymaker? Check out this hot tub. This wasn’t here before.”
I grinned. “Welcome home, Char.”
“Seriously?”
“I won’t even charge you for your stay.”
“But you live three hours away…”
I winced. The drive is a bitch, but the view is worth it. I shrugged. “It’s an investment. I can always flip it or rent it out. Besides, now that I’m partner, I can work remotely, set my own hours… I could drive out on Thursday nights to avoid traffic and return Mondays… we could spend holidays here?”
She threw her arms around me. “Despite all your faults, you are going to make one hell of a Prince Charming someday.”
“Gee, thanks Char. And here I thought I was one already.”
“Well, where’s your princess then?”
“Right here.” I grabbed her into a headlock, giving her a kiss on the top of her head.
Two
DECEMBER
I was dirty. Filthy. Covered in sweat but felt totally satisfied. “Take that you bitch!” I stood back to survey my work. My room was complete. I placed my hammer down. On the long wall of the master bedroom was wall-to-wall shiplap paneling I had cut, measured, and installed myself. One wall down, many more to go.
I never knew working with my hands would be so satisfying. I hadn’t clicked into the dating app in months. I worked my ass off in the office then drove out here every Friday, not leaving until early Monday morning, often going straight back to work. This beach house became my mistress. I loved her when she was ugly and broken. Cherished her back to health. Made her shine. Made her beautiful and whole again. It felt good. Damn, good.
I shuffled down to the kitchen to grab a beer. I never knew winter here was just as beautiful as summer. But the snow never lasts long. The salt dissolving it quickly. I sighed at the doorbell. Another huge box wa
s left on my porch. I had given Charlie a set budget to furnish the rooms. I wanted a beachy theme but not overly feminine since it was going to be a rental. A moneymaker. But Char… she just never listens. I placed my beer down and brought in the box before it was covered in snow and ice.
All the other houses on the block were vacant. No holiday lights twinkled from trees. No neighbor’s waved as I checked my mail. I was the only one left, riding out the holidays on the deserted beach and winter waves alone.
I put my Air Pods in, rocking out to Halsey and The Weekend while cutting beadboard and shiplap. The tracks may be a bit dated now but back in my glory days I worked mad moves on the dance floor. I was a guy who danced and loved it. I wasn’t shy to roll my hips to the beat while the other guys hung back feeling awkward while hiding behind their beers.
Outside the air had a damp chill. It was colder than a penguin’s balls. Rain had turned to clinging shards of ice on the windows while I was sweating my assets off. I used adhesive glue with an air nail gun to set the shiplap in place. I whipped my shirt over my head and kept my home improvement dance party going until something made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I wasn’t alone.
Ripping my ear buds out, I spun ready to face my intruder—liquid nail gun at the ready.
“We should just do another calendar. Make it a home improvement theme.”
“I like it. Shirtless, sweaty men with tools…”
Carlos and my sister were up to no good again. Their eyes traveled low then high seconds before Carlos lifted that damn camera.
Click. Click. Click.
Here we go again.
“What’s going on?” I put my tools down, reaching on the floor for my discarded shirt. Scowling, I put it on while flipping Carlos the bird.
“Merry Christmas, little brother. I was able to snag Carlos to photograph your house for rentals. You’ll sell out every month. He’s a true artist.”
“Yeah he will,” Carlos, murmured, with a grin. His eyes were on me not the house.
A smirk played across my lips. “I don’t go that way, bro.”
“That’s okay. I still have you on my wall.”
“TMI, Carlos. Thanks for offering to snap my house but as you can see the place isn’t ready.”
“That’s why I’m here. Some of the furniture I ordered already arrived. More is on the way. Chop-chop, baby bro.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “I’ll leave it to you to unbox all the furniture you had delivered.” I shook my head, “Never give your sister your American Express digits,” I muttered under my breath as I left the room.
“Hey!” I had spun around when a wet paint brush hit me square in the back.
“You want to start shit, Char?”
“No!” She squeaked, as I sauntered forward after slowly twirling the boar bristle brush in a quart of transitional gray paint.
“You chose it! I bet it’ll look great on you!”
“EEEEKKKK!” She fled, dropping her Gucci bag and interior design books. Carlos started capturing it all on his camera. Char lost of course. By the time I was done with her, she was covered head-to-toe.
“That’s payback for…. I don’t know. Maybe… everything?!”
“Ugh! Chase! We’re not kids anymore!” She yelled before locking herself in my newly renovated bathroom. I ordered a handmade walnut tub, settling it in front of the window that overlooked the dunes and beach. The shower was a nice sea glass colored mosaic tile with three different shower heads, a teak bench, and a wall of glass around it all.
After Charlie cleaned herself up, she and Carlos left me alone while they got busy staging furniture. I finished cutting and installing shiplap along the walls of the guest rooms and hallway. Char and Carlos never bothered me; I had a bad feeling I wouldn’t recognize my house when I went back downstairs. My cell pinged from its place on a stool:
Hunter: Bro, it’s naughty Elf Night. We haven’t gone since 2018. Don’t be a chump. Come out tonight.
I sighed, raking a hand through the sawdust in my hair. I was tempted, I won’t lie. Hunter was the best wingman I’d ever had. The two of us out on the town together were unstoppable. He ghosted me when he met a girl at the shore two years ago. When it came down to it, he couldn’t pull the commitment card. She dumped him cold.
Me: My sister is in town.
Hunter: Freckles? She’d make one hot elf.
Me: Want a broken nose for Christmas? You have a pet nickname for my sister?
Hunter: Dude. She’s hot. Just saying’.
Me: My sister is a no-fly zone.
Hunter: Too bad. I’d like to fly that plane.
Me: You’re dead.
Hunter: No, you are. Haven’t seen you in months. Where you been anyway?”
Me: At my shore house.
Hunter: Seriously?
Me: Yep. Drained a sizeable amount from my savings but it’s worth it.
Hunter: This summer… we will clean up at the beach bar just like the good old days. The ladies won’t know what hit them. The two of us are unstoppable.
Me: I’m renting it out. Money over love.
Hunter: Who said anything about love? It’s all about the “ing” … love-ing.
Me: You didn’t put a ring on it, and she walked. Aren’t you over it yet?
Hunter: At least I stepped up to the plate. I at least swung for the pitch. She wasn’t the right fit, but I had my innings.
Me: Whatever, bro. I hate baseball.
Hunter: Tell Freckles I’ll see her this summer. Tell her we can relive 2010…
Growling, I put my phone down. “CHAR!!!!!!” I stomped down the stairs feeling my neck get hot. Char and Hunter? Hunter? My man whore of a best wingman slash best friend had something with my twin, under my nose and I didn’t have a clue about it?
“What?” She spun around. “You don’t like it?” Her chin quivered. I bit my tongue about Hunter. I’d get to the bottom of that later.
“I’m impressed.”
Char turned and smiled. While I was upstairs, she staged the entire living room, arranging a rug and the furniture. Above the fireplace was a canvas of two kids playing on the beach. A lump formed in my throat. “Is that… us?”
“It sure is.”
“It’s perfect, Char.”
“I know. I was going through my old scrapbooking box and found the actual photograph. Nana took it. It’s from 2003. I’ll even bet it’s from the spot you see from the kitchen window. I took the picture to an artist in SOHO and they painted it in watercolors.”
“Brat.” A lump formed in my throat. Char was a real pain in the ass, but she had a heart as big as the ocean itself.
“Bully.”
I shake my head, pulling her in close. “You know what? Mom and Dad sucked, yet the two of us turned out pretty damn good.”
“We did. Didn’t we?” She murmured. “Now all we need is a tree and some lights with tons of fresh garland.”
“That shit is going to get all over my floors.”
“So? It’s Christmas.”
“Yeah. It is. Might as well have Carlos do his thing before you turn my cottage into a winter wonderland.”
“Just stay out of the way.”
“What? You don’t want me shirtless on the bed with a rose in my mouth?”
“Oooh. A Valentine’s themed calendar...”
“Never gonna happen. I’m going out to grab some food. I’ll bring something back.”
“Good, because my stomach is making more noise than thunder during a summer rainstorm,” she responded in her singsong voice tinged with a bit of the southern accent New York had dimmed. Something shifted inside me. Buying this place was right. For the first time in a long time the sunshine that was locked deep inside my twin was starting to shine again. And these past few years I was too busy making it to even notice it had dimmed.
“What are you in the mood for? Everything’s mostly closed this time of year. There is an incredible Thai place abou
t thirty minutes away worth the drive.”
“Spicy. Bring me something hot. It’s cold and windy.”
“I’ll make a fire before I leave.”
I felt guilty for painting her when I saw her ruined designer clothing. I carefully picked them up deciding to try and salvage them. Then I left Char and Carlos to it. She meant well and is a total pain in the ass, but I’m damn lucky she surprised me. I was going to just let Christmas go by with stacks of work contracts and a good bottle of wine.
Humming ‘Here comes Santa Claus,’ under my breath, I pulled over at a boutique shop to find a present for Char since her gift had knocked me for six. Truthfully, I never felt lonely without a girlfriend because I always had my sister. Other women were just for sex, while Char filled all the love and companionship I needed.
I was gone a few hours and by the time I got back Carlos had finished and Char had paid for his private car back to civilization. We ate the Thai while watching a cheesy movie on Netflix. Over a smooth glass of red we reminisced the best and worst times we had in this very house. I raised my glass. “To making new memories and forgetting the bad.”
“To finding our one true summer love,” she smiled into the fire wistfully. I didn’t raise my glass to that one, instead I put it down to throw a new log onto the flames. “That reminds me… Hunter wanted me to meet him at some dive bar for Naughty Elf night.”
“Let’s go!” She drained the rest of her wine.
“There’s a dress requirement for women. It’s tradition. They won’t let you in unless you go as a naughty elf.”
Her nose wrinkled. “That’s so misogynistic.”
“It’s a contest. The twenty-dollar cover charge is put into a stocking. The last time I went the girl who won ended up taking home 5k.”
“I can be naughty.”
I picked up my wine glass swirling it in my hand. “Funny, that’s what Hunter said.” I slowly raised it to my lips, pretending to be chill while gauging her reaction.
It didn’t disappoint.
The tiny nerves under my spine felt like a nest of nettles as her cheeks flushed and the pulse in her slim neck quickens. I’ve seen all these signs before. Usually, when I lean in to kiss the woman of my choosing. Seeing the tell on Char when she thinks of Hunter had me seeing red—not the fat jolly kind. There was no hiding my annoyance when the muscle of my left jaw ticked.