Promise Me (The Me Novellas) (6 page)

“
You sure?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

I really was. Despite the fact that it sounded like he didn’t want me anywhere near his place of employment, I was pretty sure I didn’t want to be there, either. The thought of working in a restaurant, of working at a resort, of working in any service-related job, was depressing. It felt so unfulfilling, so inconsequential. I thought about bussing tables or taking orders or selling swim suits or shoes. And shuddered.

Maybe he knew that. Maybe he was just looking out for me, trying to point me away from something that he knew I would find unfulfilling.

I wasn’t sure if I was right, but I let myself believe it.

Because the alternative was something I wasn’t prepared to think about.

EIGHT

My phone rang early the next morning. I was still in bed, contemplating getting up. I was warm and cozy and my bed felt like heaven.

It was Grant.

“Hey,” I said, my voice sleepy.

“
You’re still in bed?”

I pulled the covers tighter. “Uh-huh.”

He sighed. “Wish I was there with you.”

“
Me, too.”

We’d grabbed dinner after spending a couple of hours at the beach and then went back to his place. Pizza from Filippi’s and two beers later, I’d collapsed into bed with him and the uncertainties of the afternoon became just a bad memory. Laying there afterward, his arms wrapped around me, his leg thrown over mine, everything had felt right, normal. I decided I’d just been paranoid at the beach. Paranoid and overwhelmed. If there was something wrong with us, with our relationship, I wouldn’t be in his bed and he wouldn’t have invited me to stay the night. We were fine. More than fine.

“What are you doing today?” he asked.

I’d turned down his offer to stay the night, wanting to get back home and sleep in my own bed. I also knew he’d be getting up early for work and the last thing I’d wanted to do was get up and go home at the crack of dawn.

I yawned. “I don’t know. Probably look for a job. Shop a little.”

“
With money you don’t have?”

I grimaced. “Pretty much. I sorta need to have clothes that actually fit.”

“Well, if you keep eating like you did last night, you’ll be back in your old stuff in no time.”

I’d eaten more of the pizza than he had. “Shut up.”

He chuckled. “Alright, well, if you find yourself over this way, can you do me a favor?”

“
Aren’t you at work already?”

“
Yeah.”

I shifted onto my side and repositioned the phone against my ear. “What?”

There was a long pause. “Can you maybe bring me some hand sanitizer?”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. “What?”

He cleared his throat. “The bottle here is empty.”

“
Grant. You work at the front desk of a hotel, not the dump.”

“
Look, there’s been an outbreak of norovirus here. Not huge, but a bunch of guests were sick overnight.” His voice held a note of irritation and I didn’t know if it was directed at me or the virus that was apparently invading his hotel.

“
Isn’t that a food-borne illness?” I asked. I couldn’t figure out why the front desk clerk of a hotel would be concerned about that kind of outbreak. But then I remembered who I was talking to.

“
Well, it’s actually transmitted through fecal matter.”

“
Are you part of the custodial staff now?”

“
Emma. People don’t always wash their hands, OK? I’m on the front line here. People checking out, dropping off keys.”

I smothered a giggle. “Right. The front line.” I refrained from making any more sarcastic comments. “Doesn’t the gift shop sell hand sanitizer?”

“Yeah, but they sell that crap with tricolsan. That stuff doesn’t kill anything. And it promotes bacteria resistance.”

For the hundredth time, I thought my boyfriend had chosen the wrong field of study. He needed to be working towards a degree in Infectious Diseases. I was pretty sure he knew enough about them to educate the rest of the entire planet.

I considered his request. Did I indulge his neuroses? Or did I just tell him to take a chill pill and deal?

I decided to be compassionate. “Uh. Sure. I can swing by in a couple of hours, I guess.” I didn’t want to admit it but I was just as big of a mess as he was. At least his worries and fears were isolated: he feared germs. Period. My whole life felt like a festering mess of worry and indecision.

“A couple of hours?” He couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“
Well, I need to shower and eat. And stop at the store and buy you hand sanitizer. Triclosan-free hand sanitizer,” I clarified.

He sighed. “Alright. I guess that’s gonna have to work.”

“I’ll try to hurry,” I promised.

“
Alright. Thanks.”

I closed my eyes and yawned again. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh,” he said. “One more thing.”

“
What?”

“
Where are you going to get it from?”

“
Uh, the grocery store?” I said. “Or is there a special hand sanitizer store I don't know about?”

“
No, no,” he said, a little flustered. “But if you're heading toward the mall...”

“
Excuse me?”

“
Well, Bath & Body Works has pocket sizes. No triclosan. Warm Vanilla Sugar is my favorite.”

This time, I couldn’t bite back the laugh that erupted. “Of course. Only the best for you.”

We hung up and I lounged in bed for a few minutes before the guilt propelled me out of bed. He was waiting and I’d promised. And even though I couldn’t understand his phobias, had just lived in probably one of the dirtiest places on the planet—and survived—I’d told him I’d bring him what he needed.

I took a shower, marveling once again at the feel of  hot water sluicing over my body. I’d missed the food and the creature comforts of home, but more than anything, I’d missed this. Standing underneath a stream of hot water, shampoo in my hair and scented soap on my skin, I could have stood there all day.

But I didn’t. Reluctantly, I turned the faucet off and stepped out of the tub. I toweled off and slipped into another dress, the only other one I had that would fit. It was white with a fitted bodice and an A-line skirt. With my sun-kissed hair and tanned skin, I looked fabulous. A little thin, but fabulous.

I stopped in the kitchen on my way out, intending to grab something and go. Joel was at the table, shaking Lucky Charms into a bowl.

“Hey.”

He looked up. “Hey.”

I reached for the bunch of bananas on the counter and tore one off. I sat down across from him. “How are you?” I asked.

Joel and I had never really been close. Not because we didn’t like each other. He was fine as far as brothers went. But a five-year age difference is a big spread. The last time we’d been at the same school at the same time was when I was twelve. And he’d decided pretty early on that he wanted to surf, so even though I often took him to the beach with me, he was always out in the water with his own set of friends.

“Good,” he said, shoveling cereal into his mouth.

“
You ready for school to start?”

He made a face. “When am I ever ready for school to start?”

I smiled. Given the chance, he’d live in the water. “Good point,” I said.

“
Are you glad to be home?”

I bit off a piece of banana just as he asked and the silence hung heavy in the air. No one had asked me that and I didn’t know how to respond.

“Sort of,” I said.

He picked up the bowl and held it to his mouth, draining the last of the milk. “Well, I think I’m glad you’re back.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He stood up and I marveled once again at how much taller he’d gotten over the summer. He was filling out, too, his scrawny body sporting new muscles. My little brother was turning into a good-looking kid. Which was a very weird thing to notice.

“You know what I mean,” he said. “Mom and Dad have like hyper-focused on me. It’s your turn to take a little heat.”

I finished the banana and folded up the peel. It had been bland, almost flavorless, nothing like the few pieces of fruit I’d eaten in Mexico. “Fair enough,” I said. “Speaking of, you know where they are this morning?”

Joel nodded at a slip of paper on the counter. “Dad left a note. Something about the water heater at the restaurant. And Mom went to the nursery. Needed potting mix, I think.”

He rolled his eyes and I laughed. We both knew she’d come back with more. She always did. I glanced out the kitchen window, taking in all of my mother’s handiwork. She’d worked wonders in our little backyard, transforming a small lawn into a stunningly beautiful garden. Her roses took center stage, of course. They lined the fence, bushes teeming with flowers in a rainbow of color, but she hadn’t neglected the rest of the yard. A path of brick pavers wound through the lawn to a tiny arbor crawling with bougainvillea. A wooden bench sat directly underneath. Just off to the left was a water-feature, a stack of large terra cotta pots that had been rigged as a trickling waterfall. It was beautiful.

“I’m outta here,” Joel said and I turned my gaze back to him.

“
Where are you going?”

“
Bird Rock. Some epic A-frames this morning.”

He could have been speaking Chinese for all that I understood. “How are you getting there?” I asked. I could drop him before I went shopping.

“Brandon’s picking me up.”

I felt a tiny flicker of disappointment. It was unreasonable to think he’d suddenly need or want me to give him rides to the beach like I used to, especially since he’d somehow managed to get there the entire summer I’d been gone. But I wanted to.

He offered a quick wave and left and, after tossing the banana peel in the trash and grabbing a bottled water from the fridge, I left, too.

I had to drive to Clairemont for the closest Bath & Body Works. It was in a strip mall filled with discount clothing stores and shoe shops and these were all busy with moms hauling around kids, doing back-to-school shopping.

I stepped into the store and a heady array of floral and fruity scents assaulted my nostrils. A helpful clerk offered me a wooden bucket for my purchases.

“
No, thanks,” I said. “I just need one thing.”

I found the display of hand sanitizers and searched the shelves for Grant’s favorite. On impulse, I grabbed two for him and a third for my purse. As I stood in line to pay, I wondered how he’d found out about Bath & Body Works hand sanitizers. It wasn’t as if I ever shopped there. Research, I thought. Knowing him, he’d probably researched the best brands.

I bought my items and, even though there were a few clothing stores where I could try and find shorts and shirts that would fit, I didn’t. Grant was waiting. And potentially being exposed to life-threatening diseases.

It took less than twenty minutes to get to The Catamaran. I parked in the lot out front and grabbed the blue and white shopping bag from the passenger seat. I glanced at my watch. It was almost noon. With any luck, he’d be close to his lunch break and we could grab something to eat.

I went through the double doors to the registration desk. He stood there, waiting, a smile on his face.

“
Hey,” he said. He was dressed in a dark polo with the hotel logo and a pair of khakis. I’d forgotten how good he cleaned up.

I handed him the bag. “Here you go.”

He stole a quick peek inside, then fished one out and set it on his desk. “Thanks.”

“
No problem.” I leaned against the counter. “Busy today?”

He shrugged. “The usual. It’s the end of summer. Things are slowing down a little but not much. It’s San Diego.”

I knew what he meant. Summer was definitely the “high” season as far as tourists were concerned but we had people visit year-round. I always had to remind myself that, even in the winter when our highs barely reached 65 and swimming wasn’t an option without the heaviest of wet suits, our town was still warmer and sunnier than most of the rest of the United States.

“
Any chance you’re close to break?”

His eyes lifted to the clock mounted on the wall. “Not really. I’m not supposed to go until two.”

“Didn’t you start at nine?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, but Juan doesn’t come in until then. I don’t have anyone to cover for me.”

I tried not to be too disappointed. “Oh. OK.”

“
But I’m off at five.” He brushed at an invisible fleck on his shirt. “If you wanna hang out.”

I nodded. “OK. I guess I’ll go shop. See about a job, too.”