Clallam Bay (A Fresh Start #2) (7 page)

I glanced up to find him looking over at me. “Yeah. Why? You leaving tomorrow with Jason?”

Looking down, he nodded. “First thing in the morning.”

Disappointment flooded me in a wave not unlike the ones running over my feet. It always seemed like we’d make this progress then he’d have to leave and we’d start in a different place all over again. Always starting over.

We walked a ways down the beach in silence, the backs of our hands brushing every now and again. I kept expecting him to grab and hold my hand, but he never did. Instead, he picked up one of the million small, broken shells that had washed up on the shore to repeatedly toss it up and catch it.

“So, you and Russell,” he said, tossing the shell in the air.

“Your brother.”

He smiled and caught it.

“You and my brother.”

“What about us?”

Toss.

Catch.

Toss.

Catch.

“So it’s true then. You are seeing my brother.”

I smiled straight ahead, having had nearly the same conversation with his brother a couple days before.

“I didn’t say we we’re dating. I just said ‘us.’ It’s the typical word you use to describe yourself and another person. I was simply asking a question. What about him? What about me? What about us?”

He glanced over at me. “Are you or aren’t you? It’s pretty simple, as well.”

Catch.

Toss.

Catch.

Looking at him out the corner of my eye, I shook my head. “No. I’m not seeing your brother. I see him, but I’m not seeing him. Why would you think I was?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. First the bar then the farmer’s market.”

“You were at the farmer’s market?”

“No.”

“Then how—”

“I was driving by. Saw you two talking.”

“Well, people talk, you know. Look at what we’re doing now.” I smiled and gestured between us. “Doesn’t mean we’re dating, does it?”

Did he want to?

“I guess not. It’s just …”

“It’s just what?”

Tossing the shell up in the air again, he caught it. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Well, that wasn’t likely.

“Tell me.”

“No. I said forget it.”

“And I said tell me.”

Stepping in front of me, he stopped me by placing his palm against my stomach. “It’s just you were standing a little too close,” he said and stepped closer. To keep my nose from hitting his chest, I tipped up my chin and came face to face with him. He smiled before stepping back.

“A little too close for my liking,” I thought I heard him say as he turned away to toss the shell up in the air and catch it again. He turned back to smile at me as I caught up. “You’re a real smart ass. You know that?”

With my heartbeat in my ears and the sand sticking to my feet, I walked back with him, acting as if I couldn’t still feel where his hand had been touching my stomach.

Once we reached the group, Jason called him over and I went in search of Amber, finding her still sitting with Sonia.

The rest of the night passed by in a blur. Before I knew it, it was one o’clock in the morning and Amber was passed out on my lap.

“You need help with that?” Coll asked.

Glancing behind me at the stairs, I smiled up at him. “Please.”

He picked Amber up with ease and threw her over his shoulder. He followed me up to the house and into my bedroom where we left my lush of a best friend before we both stepped back outside.

“I’d say goodnight, but it’s morning and I’m leaving in two hours. Probably be useless to try and get some sleep, but you should,” he said, taking the stairs. “Being such a smart ass has to be exhausting.” He smiled, but I still couldn’t tell if he was aggravated with me or not.

Standing at the top of the steps, I wrapped my arms around my middle as he shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the dirt below.

“This is usually the longest I’m gone all year. A few of us guys help out on the crabbers for extra cash.” He scratched his chin on his shoulder. “Not many are willing to do it.”

“Because it’s so dangerous?”

He tilted his head and shrugged. “That and it’s really fucking cold out there. Listen …” Pulling one of his hands out of his pockets, he ran it through his hair. “I don’t know how much down time I’ll have, but I was thinkin’ I could try and write. Ya know, if you want.” He shrugged. “I don’t have a cell phone. Can’t text. I could borrow one of the guys’, but that’d be a hassle. Payphones pretty much don’t exist anymore. I figure a handwritten letter is the next best thing.”

It was better, actually. Never in my life had I received a handwritten letter that wasn’t passed under a desk in the middle of a classroom. And never from a guy.

I realized I hadn’t said anything when he looked up.

“Yeah. Definitely. I’d like that. Yeah,” I said, trying to sound cooler than I felt and most likely failing miserably, judging by the way he smiled down at the ground just before backing away.

“Well, all right then.”

Turning, he headed for his house, giving me a fixed wave just before disappearing inside.

I was too wired to sleep but lay down beside Amber anyway. Eyes closed, she turned her head to face me.

“You get a kiss goodnight?” She made kissy noises into the pillow.

“No.”

“Too bad. You want me to give you a kiss goodnight?”

“No.”

Sighing, she turned away, and I kissed her on the back of her head before dozing off myself. I woke the next morning to a new sense of wonderment followed by a sharp slap on the ass.

“Wake up! There was a storm last night and it knocked out the electricity. You’re late!”

To my right, Amber sniffed, and it was useless to try and hold back the tears. Neither one of us had ever lasted through the “don’t-cry-during-the-sad-scene
Steel Magnolias
challenge.” Neither one. Not once.

“Pass the tissues, would ya?”

Grabbing a few myself, I handed over the box. Amber took it and practically lost her nose.

The rain hit harder against the window as if it had lost the challenge as well. Either that or the sky really was broken and the clouds were here to stay. It had stormed off and on all week, pretty much confining us to the house. But the worst was still to come since Amber was leaving today.

Sniffles could be heard between the raindrops hitting the car on the way to the airport. Our tears mixed with the water already staining our shoulders as we hugged goodbye, and I wiped more away as I watched my best friend since birth round the corner to board her plane. I was going to miss her. Having Amber here felt like home. I missed it. I missed my family. My other friends. Almost to the point where I crawled into one of Amber’s bags and stowed off to Chicago with her.

But I was glad I didn’t. It was the very next afternoon I received the first letter.

My stomach had rolled in anticipation every day that the mailman drove by. Or at least by the time I thought the mailman drove by. That was usually when I found the mail in the mailbox. I hadn’t actually seen the mail truck. I thought maybe I’d heard it once. Point being, there was definitely a mail truck that drove by at some point every day, except Sunday, and I had been anticipating it daily since Coll left. Which was silly because snail mail was slow. It took time. A week to be exact.

I was driving home with a mouthful of double chocolate chunk. Wednesday had become official cookie day, and while the kids loved them, there were still a couple left over. If they kept it up things were going to have to change. Or maybe I just needed to make a few less cookies if I was going to end up eating the extra. God knew I didn’t need them.

I was dead set on running when I got home. But when I pulled up to check the mail and found his letter hidden in a pile of bills and credit card offers, that plan flew right out the window. There was no need to exercise. My heart was already speeding and my lungs were already burning as if I already had.

The envelope was long and stained with what I could only assume were dots of dried sea water. The salt sparkled in the sun, scratching across the crinkled parchment when I wiped my hand across the front. The blue ink bled and blurred to the point I could hardly read it.

Sliding a finger under the flap, I stopped myself and sat it on the pile of mail in my passenger seat. I didn’t want to read it sitting in my car. I wanted to feel the breeze on my face and breathe in the smell of the ocean. Same as him when I imagined him writing it.

I snuck glances at my seat as I drove down the driveway. My fingers were itching but I wanted to do this right. I wanted to savor it. Who knew if or when he’d write again? Who knew he would to begin with?

I parked and unpacked my car same as I always did every day after school. I set the papers to be graded on my living room table along with my stickers and red pen to look over a few until the antsy feeling went away. But it wouldn’t. I couldn’t concentrate. Wouldn’t stop looking at the pile of mail sitting by the door.

Throwing down my pen, I made a glass of tea before grabbing the letter and heading outside to try and relax on my porch swing. A few sips and I took a deep breath, closing my eyes to better appreciate how the wind blew lightly across my face before opening the envelope.

The letter inside was just as stained with smudges of ink here and there. I skimmed the words once before sitting back to read them.

Hailey,

You probably heard we missed the worst of the storm. A few of the guys got tossed around pretty good but nobody was thrown overboard, which makes for a promising start.

Lowering the letter to my lap, I looked out over the bay and shook my head before continuing.

I won’t tell you not to worry since I’m pretty sure you will anyway. Who knows, maybe you should. I kind of like it and I don’t know if you realized or not, but I still have your plate.

I smiled despite the fact he wasn’t funny at all. Because he was right. I would worry. Now even more so because he didn’t tell me not to. What did he have? Some kind of sick sense of humor to better deal with the very real possibility he could die out there? Well, I didn’t appreciate it. And the next part only made me feel slightly better.

In all seriousness, I meant to keep it. I figured you couldn’t actually leave until I gave it back, so I’m probably never going to.

Anyway, we’re getting ready to set off. I’ll be sending this out next time we stop. Don’t worry about writing me back. It’s tough to stick to a schedule out here. I’d probably end up missing anything you sent by a day or two. And I just couldn’t have the not knowing weighing on me like that. The days are already long enough.

Coll

Glancing over the words again, I looked out over the bay, knowing exactly what he meant about the days feeling long.

*

“What do you want to do? Watch a movie?” Alyssa asked, flipping through the channels on my TV.

I shook my head, eyeing the mail I’d brought in earlier. There was a letter in there. I saw it when I emptied out the mailbox, but couldn’t read it since Alyssa had followed me home after school. I didn’t dare open it in front of her out of fear that she’d ask a million questions and then try to read it. I knew she’d want to. But this just wasn’t something I was willing to share.

“Okay. Well, you wanna go see a movie instead? You know how I love me a good, angsty love affair. I could go for some popcorn, too.” Alyssa practically drooled on the couch. “Extra butter.”

Taking one last look at the pile of mail, I nodded. Amber had been gone a week and it didn’t look like I was going to be reading his letter anytime soon, so I could use another good cry-fest.

It wasn’t until late that evening when Alyssa stopped talking about reconnecting with high school sweethearts and passed out on my couch that I had the opportunity to sneak out of the house. Sitting on my porch swing, I repeated the ritual before opening the stained envelope.

Hailey,

If you’re having the same type of weather we’ve been having out here, I hope you’re staying warm and dry. The rain hasn’t stopped and there’s little cover on the boat. I’ve been soaked through nearly every day for the past two weeks, but I barely notice the cold anymore. I’m used to it. Used to not having time to dwell on it. Dwelling is what I do on my break. And it’s never about how cold or wet or tired I am. Lately, I’ve been thinking how you said you’d made a mistake with your life and the reasoning made me want to tell you why I felt I made one with mine.

My stomach dropped out the bottom of the swing.

I was sixteen when I dropped out of school, left my mom’s house, and started sleeping on random boats down by the docks. One morning, the captain of one of the boats my dad used to work on found me, gave me a job that paid under the table until I turned eighteen and could make it legal. I’m eternally grateful to him. Always will be even though the job sucks because it’s a job. It puts food in my stomach and a roof over my head. I’m not telling you all this so you’ll feel sorry for me. I’m telling you because it doesn’t matter how good a teacher you are. If a kid doesn’t want to try, you can’t make him. No teacher good or bad could have stopped me from failing. When it came down to it, they couldn’t keep me from quitting. And it wasn’t because they weren’t capable of making a difference. I didn’t give them the chance to. And to tell you the truth, even if I had a teacher half as caring or good-looking as you, I wouldn’t have given her the chance either. I was just that stupid.

Leaning forward in my seat, I bit my thumbnail. How terrible was it that he was baring part of his soul to me through a serious look at his past and all I could focus on was the fact he called me good-looking? I fanned myself with the letter until my neck started to cool and I could finish reading.

I don’t know if that helped or not. Probably not. Reading over it now, it could go either way. Just know I meant it to be encouraging. You should still be nice. Who knows, maybe someday you’ll find a kid that’s not as stupid as I was. You’ll try to make the difference you want to make and hopefully he’ll let you, like I should have. Just promise me you won’t go around blaming yourself for another person’s mistakes. Believe me when I say it’s no way to live. And you deserve better than that.

Coll

Clutching the letter with both hands, I stared out in front of me, seeing nothing but the uncertain futures of the kids in my class. There was a very real possibility some of them could end up like Coll. Stuck in a job they hated. Living a life they didn’t want. That was what I got from this. Not that he was necessarily unhappy, but most definitely unsatisfied. If there was such a difference. And it was all his own fault. I didn’t want that for any of my students. I didn’t want it for myself. And I especially didn’t want it for Coll. He deserved better than that, too.

*

“Jesus, Hailey. Perk up, would ya? We watched that movie like a week ago. It’s time you got over it already.”

Stirring the spaghetti noodles, Alyssa chastised me underneath her breath. I let her continue believing the reason for my sour mood was some movie we watched a week ago. It was easier than explaining what was really going on in my head.

A third letter had arrived a day ago but I still hadn’t read it. It was the same afternoon Sonia showed up on my doorstep crying her eyes out over Jason and how she wasn’t sure if she could trust him. The time apart had never bothered her before but the idea of marrying a man who was barely there set something off and she hadn’t been able to sleep since.

Alyssa took my cue and stayed quiet through dinner. She even cleaned up before taking off and leaving me alone for the night. I eyed the pile of mail before going to bed, but couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned into the early hours of the morning until I got up, grabbed a blanket and the letter, and headed out to the porch, hoping I wouldn’t catch pneumonia while reading it from my porch swing.

Hailey,

The stars out in the middle of the ocean are so bright I don’t even need a light to write this. I wish you could see it.

Peeking up at the clouds overhead, I wished I could, too.

The mornings seem to come earlier and earlier. The sun is slowly rising now to keep me company while I sit here and think of what else to write about. Probably best to keep it light this time. Believe it or not, it wasn’t my goal to try and scare you off. But I kind of get the feeling I did. Maybe just a little bit. Maybe for just a while. But I still did, didn’t I?

Not exactly. What Sonia and I had talked about bothered me more than anything.

Anyway, if you’re still reading I’m moving on to something light. So, here we go. Let’s see, my favorite color is green. My favorite food is pizza. I’m more of a Pepsi than Coke man, which could pose as a bit of a problem.

Yes, now that was a real problem.

I can’t really think of anything else with you putting me on the spot like this.

I smiled. Of course he would blame me.

I could keep boring you with knowledge of seafloor depths and the trouble with ghost pots, but I won’t. I doubt you want to know how even after just a few days, the catch starts smelling better than the men. I don’t need to tell you that you smell better, but you do and so does your food. Damn, I miss your cooking. I miss your cookies. I miss missing you when you drop them off.

A smudge of blue ink ended the letter before he signed off with his name. It felt like a strange place to end.

He missed my cooking. He missed my cookies. He missed missing me when I dropped them off for him. Then nothing but a smudge.

Maybe he had been out to sea too long. Maybe he was sleep deprived. His brain was probably as overworked and numbed as his hands from the cold, wet weather. At this hour, mine felt a little foggy as well. It kept thinking maybe he started to write “I miss you” but changed his mind. If that were the case, I really wished he hadn’t because I missed him, too.

*

Turned out Sonia was right when she had said the last week was the hardest. I found it difficult to concentrate, almost impossible to eat—which wasn’t the worst thing. It got to the point where I was so anxious I finally did what I’d been meaning to do since moving here. I started running.

Mostly I jogged up and down the steps to the beach. If I was feeling particularly energetic, I’d do a few laps in the sand. It felt good getting back into shape. Not only did it kill time, it made me feel better, too. Until the day I got back from a particularly long run to find my neighbor’s truck parked in the driveway a day early and him sitting on my front porch swing. At that moment, I would have done anything for a mirror and an extra ten minutes of cool-down time.

Doing my best to tuck back the flyaways, I started up my steps. “Do I know you?” I asked, part in jest and part for the thick mange of hair that had taken over his face. It made him look older, wiser. I would have liked it if it weren’t for the fact that it hid his smile.

Scratching his scruffy jaw, he squinted up at me and I could kind of see it then. “Yeah. I would have shaved, but that would have led to my bathroom, which would have led to a shower, then my bed, and you wouldn’t see me again ‘til”—he looked down at his imaginary watch—“the first sign of spring.”