Take Me Back (6 page)

“I’ve heard every detail a million times,” MJ says. “Maddie has this weekend planned and memorized down to five-minute intervals. I’m pretty sure you’re good.” He rubs his forehead. “I could use an aspirin, though.”

“How about a stiff drink?” Beck says, chuckling. “Maddie’s going to drive you to drunkenness this weekend, anyway.”

“Hell no!” MJ says, then laughs. “She’s putting me to work. If I’m drunk, she’ll kick my ass.”

“She’s putting you to work?” Beck glances back over his shoulder at MJ. “I would’ve stayed home this weekend if I were you.”

“She has certain… ways of persuading me to do things.”

“Women and their evil p—”

“Hey!” I put up my hand to stop him. “Watch what you say.”

Beck smirks. “Evil powers, Rachael. That’s what I was going to say.
Powers
.”

MJ cracks up in the back of the cart. “That was so not the P-word you were thinking.”

“I cannot confirm or deny the truth in that statement, Junior.” Beck shrugs his eyebrows at me and turns back to the path.

“You two shouldn’t be allowed to be around each other. You’re both bad influences.”

We round the corner and the hotel comes into view. At least twenty people are gathered on the patio drinking wine. You and Maddie are mingling with the guests while Riley and Jesse refill glasses and Carlos sets out platters of hors d’oeuvres.

Beck stops the golf cart under the awning across the yard and we make our way over the manicured, emerald grass. You cock an eyebrow and raise your glass to me. “There’s our lovely hostess now.”

Everyone turns to look at me, smiling and murmuring. Maddie pushes the gate open as we approach.
“Where have you been?”
she whispers through clenched teeth, directing her question to MJ.

“Me? Class. I told you.” He leans forward to kiss her, and she allows him a small peck on the lips before pulling away.

“Not while I’m working. Later, though, I promise.” She squeezes his hand and I see him run a finger over her ring.

You clasp a hand on MJ’s shoulder. “Glad you came. Maddie, now that Rachael’s here, why don’t you take a break?”

Maddie glances from you to me, unsure. “Go ahead,” I tell her. “Sorry I’m late getting back.”

“Okay. I’ll be back out soon to help,” she says.

You smile at her and MJ. “Take your time,” you say, before turning to me.

I feel like a child under your scrutinizing gaze. “What can I do?” I ask.

You press your lips together. “Nothing. Go upstairs and freshen up.”

“I’m fine.” I won’t be sent to my room like a child. I stride past you to find Carlos and check on dinner preparations.

“You’re not fine,” you whisper from behind. “You look like you’ve been through emotional warfare, Rachael.” We step inside the lounge and you turn me by the shoulders to face you. “You’re
not
fine. My Rachael doesn’t lie to me. My Rachael doesn’t shirk responsibility to chase down a ghost story. My Rachael—”

“Your Rachael is just fine!” I jerk away and head down the hall toward the entryway and the staircase.

You’re right on my heels. “This conversation is not over.”

I take the stairs as fast as I can, rage building with every step. “It has to be over, because you won’t listen to me and there’s no point to me talking to myself.”

Right behind me, you groan in frustration. “I will always listen. I can’t promise to believe in this, but you know I’ll listen.”

I snap my head around to look over my shoulder. “Like I said, then what’s the point?”

“The point is,” you say, following me up the last flight of stairs to the third floor, “this isn’t how we work. At least, not up to this point.”

I open the door to our room and walk in. The light and air always catch me off guard. The memories of first waking up in this room with a stranger. A stranger who became my life. Who gave me this life.

The door closes, and I slowly turn to find you leaning against it. Your arms are folded and your chin is lowered and you’re looking at me like you have no idea who I am anymore. “I can’t do this, Rachael.”

Panic slams into me. Desperation pinches my chest. “You can’t do what?” The words are raw and forced from my throat, thick with emotion.

You shake your head and drop your eyes. “If this is how it’s going to be—sneaking around and lying to me—I can’t do it. I’ve had enough of that in my life already.”

Your words slay me—knock the breath from my lungs. The last thing I want is to be one of the people who bring you pain. Your father, Enzo, and his damn secrets. Gina Montgomery, MJ’s mom, being alive and MJ having a sister… all the lies and deceit. I’m the one you love and trust and all I’m doing is giving you reason to doubt and push me away.

Your expression is conflicted. You’re torn, emotionally and mentally.

I drop to the bed and run my fingers under my eyes, pushing the tears back. “I’m so sorry. I never meant… I only wanted to help her.” I wait until you slowly raise your eyes to mine. “I love you, Merrick. You know that, don’t you?”

You inhale sharply and nod, then close your eyes like you can’t look at me and say what you have to say. “I think this all happened to fast. I brought you here and our relationship took off instantly. Then everything with Enzo and MJ and…” Your eyes flash open and you pound your palm against the door. “I think you need a break, Rachael, to think about everything. I think you should go home to Cleveland for a while.”

My world shatters as I stare at you. The pieces ring out as they hit the floor. Their sharp edges rain down on me and draw blood. I let out a sob and press my hand against my chest. “You don’t want me anymore?”

You cringe like a shard of glass lodged in your chest. “I will always want you. I’m dying inside thinking of you gone from here, but I love you too much to watch you fall into an obsession over this place. It’s not healthy. It’s making you someone you’re not.”

“I’m not obsessed! You don’t even know what happened to me today. You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You’d think I was going crazy.”

You walk forward and lean against the arm of the chair. “Tell me.”

I want to tell you, but you’ve already shut me out. You want me to go away for a while and take a break from this place. From you.

I just shrug. I can’t tell you. Why would I share something so precious and important to me with someone who won’t believe me?

“You’re putting this between us,” you say.

“No. You are.” It’s all I can manage. I’m so hurt I can barely speak.

You lick your lips and suck them in. Your eyes wander the room. I’ve never seen so much sadness on a person’s face before, and I’ve never felt so much inside me. It’s so dark and intense, I don’t know how we can survive it.

Our guests are eating brunch on the patio. Beck flew in a family with young kids—the great-grandchildren—this morning, and their shrieks and laughter mingle with chirping birds, the clang of silverware against china, and the pleasant murmur of conversation.

The bride and groom of fifty years, both in their mid-to late seventies, sit in the center of their large family. She has a corsage of pink roses pinned to her white blouse, and he’s wearing a boutonniere on the lapel of his tan linen jacket. They could be Ingrid and Archibald surrounded by their five children and seventeen grandchildren.

They could be us someday.

I glance over at you, going over last-minute details with Beck and Riley, and my chest aches.

I don’t want to leave you.

I don’t want to leave Turtle Tear.

“Things are going well,” Maddie says, stepping up beside me on the edge of the path leading to the pool cloister.

“Yes. You should be proud. Thank you for everything.”

She reaches up and rubs my back. “Are you okay?”

I only came downstairs twice last night to check on things. Once during dinner and the second time when I heard our guests heading upstairs to bed. I figured Maddie knew something was going on between you and me.

I shake my head, not able to talk about it.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I can tell you’re upset. If you want to talk, I’m here.”

I manage a shaky smile. “Thanks.”

The last thing I want to do is involve her and MJ in our problems. If things end between us… MJ’s yours and Maddie with him.

I’ll have nothing.

The island is mine, but without you I don’t want it.

It’s nothing without you.

Tears prickle my eyes and I turn before Maddie sees them. “I’m going to check on the gazebo.” I’m sure she’s already been there twenty times and has everything set up for the ceremony, but she doesn’t say anything as I quickly make my way down the path.

The sun’s a bright orange ball, not quite directly overhead, making slanted, jagged shadows of palm trees and birds of paradise flowers. The island seems harsh today. Harsh and beautiful, like it could swallow me whole while smiling.

I’m not surprised when I spot a gator lying in the tall grass sunning itself. Fortunately, it’s far enough away to avoid, and the children are all back at the hotel. I’ll make sure Riley and Jesse search the area on four-wheelers before the ceremony this afternoon. The loud whine of the engines will run any gators off.

At the end of the path, the gazebo stands flowing in white gossamer and flowers like a bride itself. Behind it, the water on the river sparkles like diamonds in the sun. The sky is clear and bright blue. It’s the perfect day for a Turtle Tear wedding.

The tears come and I let them. I deserve them and won’t hold them back. I want to stand here with you in this beautiful place we built together and vow to love you forever, but I don’t know if that will ever happen now.

We don’t communicate, and if we can’t talk to each other, then we have no foundation to build a relationship on.

*

The sight of Beck in a tux is shocking. His hair is slicked back and tidy, he’s clean shaven, and without the cello resting between his knees, I would’ve never recognized him.

He closes his eyes to the gentle push and pull of the bow across the strings. His fingers press and release deftly on each chord. He’s making the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. It echoes across the island unchallenged by birdsong. Even the cranes cease their whooping cries while he plays and Mrs. Nelson is escorted down the aisle by her oldest son.

One of the bride and groom’s grandsons is a minister. From where we sit, in the very last row of chairs, his voice rings true and clear.

“… and do you, Grandma, take Grandpa to love and to cherish, for better and for worse…”

I love the familiarity of it, how they thought it would sound odd for their grandson to call them by their names instead of Grandma and Grandpa, because that’s who they are to everyone seated before them. The heads of this big family. The two who began it all.

I long to take your hand in mine. It’s right there, resting on your thigh. All I have to do is reach out and take it. You wouldn’t pull away, would you?

“I do,” the bride says, her smile beaming, wisps of her white hair blowing in the warm, gentle breeze coming off the water.

MJ sits with his arm around Maddie’s shoulders. She holds his hand and leans into him. I want to be there when they get married. I want to see Mr. Simcoe walk her down the aisle. I want to see your proud expression as your son takes his wife.

I turn to look at you and let my eyes wander the side of your face, your wide lips and prominent nose, the line of your brow over your intense, expressive dark eyes. I want to marry you. I want us. I don’t want to be apart.

You turn your head and face me, and I see it instantly, the same want and longing I feel.

Without a word, you take my hand and bring it up to your lips, brushing a kiss over my knuckles.

I love you so much it hurts.

Please don’t make me leave you.

“I called your mom and told her you were coming.” You toss your suit jacket on the bed and loosen your tie. “She’s excited to spend some time with you.”

“Why did you do that?” Suddenly I’d like to choke you. “What if I didn’t want to go?”

“You need to go,” you say, and brush my cheek with the back of your fingers. “You need a break from all of this.”

I smack your hand away. How dare you? I’m not a toy you can take out and play with when you want and then put pack. “You brought me here, remember? You can’t just return me. I’m not returnable, Merrick.”

You grip my arms. “I’m not returning you. I’m worried about you. A week with your mom and your aunt will do you good. Then we can talk.”

“Talk. About?” My heart crashes into the fire in my stomach. How can this be happening?

Your eyes are hard and serious. “Us.”

I can’t take it. I always know what you’re thinking. Now I’ve lost the connection. I have to know what’s going on in your head. “What are you saying? That this break isn’t just for me? That you want to figure out if you want to be with me anymore? Are you easing your way out of this?”

“I don’t want to live without you, Rachael, but I won’t be lied to. We have to figure this out.”

“And the best way to do that is to send me away? That’s brilliant.” I pull from your grasp and sit on the bed. “I mean, why talk to me when you can just ask me to leave?”

“I just—I don’t…” You run your hands through your hair, then down over your face. “I want to make sure you’re thinking clearly. This Ingrid thing has you all worked up and acting irrational. You can be pissed at me for saying that, but when our relationship is riding on what comes next, I’m asking you to take a break from everything and think clearly before we talk about us.”

“Fine.” I’m being irrational. Whatever. “What time is Beck taking me to the airport?”

“He’s not. I am. Whenever you’re ready to go.” You ease down on the bed beside me. “This really is just a visit home to see your family and relax. I don’t want to lose you, and it feels like I have been lately.”

“You’re sending me away so I’ll stay?”

You smile weakly. “I guess I am.”

“And I’m letting you.” I shake my head at my willingness to go along with you. I always go along with you.