Sound of the Tide (8 page)

Jenna returned, and with her oversized rubber gloves she looked like a character straight out of a comic book. “Show you friendship, show you kindness, and where does it get me?” she complained, and I tried to hide my laughter in Kevin’s chest. He kissed the top of my head, both of us laughing as Jenna glared at us.

She started mopping, and once the floors were clean and she was taking off her rubber gloves, she asked, “So, how about it, Smokey? Are we calling it a night before Piper makes me scrub her toilet, too?”

I smirked. “The toilet! I almost forgot! Good thing you mentioned it! Do you think you could—”

“No way, sweetie!” she said, putting her foot down. “I’d rather freeze to death out there than go anywhere near your damn toilet.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot impatiently. “So, Smokey? Are you coming?”

Reluctantly, Kevin got up off the sofa and looked me in the eye. “Piper?”

He still seemed to expect a reply. His presence here made it easier to handle Daniel’s death, but it felt wrong somehow to seek comfort in his arms. I shook my head.

“Go on, drive Cinderella home before the evil stepmother can think of another dreadful task to torture her little princess.”

Jenna stuck her tongue out at me, and slipped into her dark-red cashmere coat and rummaged in her pocket for a pair of matching gloves.

I raised my eyebrows. She didn’t have that coat on when she was moving my boxes earlier. She must have brought it along.

“I haven’t given up on Dr. Palmer just yet,” she explained. “You should see him sometime in his blue scrubs. They really enhance his eyes—it’s madness! All the nurses are in love with him. Even the old bag at reception drools every time he walks by!”

Kevin snorted.

“Dr. Palmer? That weird guy from next door? Do what you want, Jenna, but let me tell you one thing. Any guy who is that good-looking and still single at his age, there must be something wrong with him!”

I nudged him in the side and gave him a wide grin. “Like you, you mean?”

He got up and reached for his own jacket, even though he showed not the slightest inclination to put it on.

“So you think I’m good-looking, do you?” he teased.

“And don’t pretend you don’t know it!” I retorted. “So, what’s wrong with
you
, Kevin? Why are
you
still available? Out with it!”

He kissed me on the cheek and followed Jenna to the door.

“What’s wrong with me?” He turned and gave me an intense stare. “I’m a fool, hoping for something that’ll never happen.”

Late that same night, I finally finished unpacking the last of the boxes and sat down on the couch, exhausted. I had avoided turning on the overhead light—the light Daniel had wired that awful day—and had lit some candles instead. On the little table beside me was a plate of the cookies Catherine had baked fresh that morning, accompanied by a steaming pot of tea.

I heard the quiet, swooshing sound of the waves breaking against the rocks below and closed my eyes.

I tried to imagine Daniel sitting beside me.

“Hey, babe,” I could hear him say.

“There you are.”

“I am always with you. Always.”

It was as if he was putting his arms around me. In my mind I snuggled up to his chest.

“I miss you,” I whispered, and I could almost feel his breath on the back of my neck.

He didn’t reply.

“Do you hear the sea? It sounds so fierce today. The cold is making it angry, I think.” I kept my eyes closed. “I’m angry, too, Daniel. I’m so angry with you, and with the entire world. Doing this all by myself, this wasn’t the deal.”

I wiped away a tear and listened to the surge of the waves.

“This wasn’t the deal,” I repeated quietly and raised my eyelids. Daniel was gone, and I suddenly felt very cold.

The candles were flickering, and dark shadows were dancing on the freshly painted walls. To stop my hands from trembling, I quickly reached them out for the teapot.

A dog was barking, and I pulled my feet up under my knees. The furnace was running now, but still the house wasn’t really getting warm. No wonder, given that the door had been open for half the day today. I glanced at the fireplace and decided to tackle that next. Not tonight, because it was too late. But I would make a fire. Someday.

Again a dog barked. Suddenly curious, I stepped over to the window. The darkness of the night swallowed the transition between water and shore, and the rocks were only slightly paler than the foam-topped waves. Still, I could see the dog clearly as he barked at the onrushing waves and threw himself into the freezing cold waters. He backed off right away, shaking out his fur, but he kept trying to intimidate the incoming tide by barking.

I couldn’t help but smile. Without hesitation I grabbed the blanket from the sofa, wrapped myself up tight, and stepped out onto the back porch. The wooden deck was slippery, and the icy sea breeze stung my cheeks, but the fresh air did me good. Hopefully it would relax me, too.

The handrail felt rough and wet under my hands. The scent of the salty air was strong, carried all the way up to me by the strong wind.

The Labrador retriever was still frolicking in the waves, bouncing between the sea and the icy beach. The dark shadow of a man approached, and he bent down to the dog. I laughed out loud when the dog shook himself like crazy and sprayed the man with water. He shouted in surprise.

The laughter died in my throat when I realized it was Ewan. I would recognize that deep, booming voice anywhere, and I caught myself pushing a few stray strands of hair back into my long braid. It was a silly thing to do since I was shrouded in complete darkness and, if I didn’t draw attention to myself, it was highly unlikely that he’d even notice me.

For quite some time I kept watching as he play-fought with the dog, laughing when the Lab, utterly fearless, threw himself into the freezing waters. I sighed. I wished I could be that happy and worry-free. Yes, truth be told, I envied Ewan his carefree laughter. I thought back to Daniel, how he had never taken anything seriously enough to know true worry. His laughter had sounded a lot like Ewan’s—only I would never again get to hear it.

Lord Almighty, I would never be able to tackle this depression head-on if I didn’t start thinking positive thoughts. With gloom chasing away my newfound coziness, I started shivering under my blanket. Still, I did not want to go back inside just yet. I could no longer see Ewan or his dog, and I was now feeling as empty and deserted as the beach below. They must have gone back inside. I was sure
he
didn’t mind being alone in his house.

So why was it so hard for me? The absurd hope of getting a friendly conversation started in the middle of the night with my new neighbor—which would hopefully make me forget that I needed to get through this night alone—made me dash through the house and yank open the front door.

I searched up and down the street and peered over to his house. The lights were on, and I could see something move behind the curtains. Great, just great! He’d gone back inside already. Crestfallen, I went back in, closed my door, and rested against it.

I couldn’t. Be alone, I mean. I probably never would be able to do it, given that I couldn’t even manage to turn on the goddamn light.

“Shit!” I whispered, and it sounded strangely hollow because the bare walls and uncurtained windows offered only a heartless echo. I inhaled deeply, held my breath, and resolutely stormed over to the light switch.

My fingers were resting on it, trembling, but still I could not bring myself to turn it on.

Instead, I lowered my hand and reached for my cell phone.

It took only a couple of rings.

“Hey, it’s me. Can you come over? I need you.”

L
ONELY

December

A
re you sure you don’t want to stay here?” Kevin asked once more.

I only nodded, climbing into his car, and pulled the door closed behind me. Shrugging his shoulders, he sat down behind the wheel and gave me a quizzical look.

“I thought this was going to be your first step into a new life. Why are you running away? I could stay here with you, you know.”

“I know I’m behaving like a crazy person, bu
t . . .
but I was wrong, Kev. I hate that couch! It’s soaked in tears, and it does nothing to help me forget how awful I’ve been feeling these past few months. I wanted a fresh start. But that’s not going to happen as long as I have to sleep on that horrible thing. Can’t you understand that?”

Kevin smiled and pressed my hand.

“I’ve never really understood you, Piper. But that’s not what’s important. If you’re telling me that you don’t want to stay here, then that’s all I need to know.”

“Thanks, Kev. You’re wonderful.”

He started the engine. The day’s slush and sleet had changed into ice, and the road was even more of an ice chute. The lights in Ewan Palmer’s windows had been turned off, and it was as though the entire coast lay deserted. I was thankful to have Kevin next to me.

“You got here fast,” I said, because I couldn’t bear to sit quiet in this winter night. In the headlights, a few solitary snowflakes headed toward the windshield, and Kevin tried to concentrate on driving.

“I was at the station.”

“Were you on duty?”

I hadn’t wanted to disturb him at work.

“It’s all right. I took the rest of the night off.”

I bit my lip and glanced over at him in the car’s dim light.

“You should have just told me that you didn’t have time. I would have called Jenna.”

“And why didn’t you call Jenna first?” he asked, and his voice sounded strangely unsteady.

I shifted in my seat. Yes, indeed, why
hadn’t
I called my best friend first? To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t even thought of her. Maybe I didn’t want to interrupt anything in case she was with Frank? No, that wasn’t it. It was much simpler than that. I had simply followed my first impulse—which was to dial Kevin’s number. But he didn’t need to know that. Things were complicated enough as they were, which was why I didn’t want to question that impulse right now.

“I’m exhausted, Kev. I’m sure Jenna would have come and picked me up, but you know how she is. She never sleeps!” I smoothed back my hair and turned up the heat. “She would have had me up all night. I really think she doesn’t know what sleep is. Maybe she has some kind of stand-by function, but I’m not even sure she’d lie down for that.”

Kevin gave an amused laugh, and I realized why I had called him. I enjoyed his company. I just enjoyed being with him.

“She’s got a bed,” he offered, still sounding amused.

That made me prick up my ears because she wouldn’t even let Daniel enter her place, despite the many years he’d been her friend. Only I had the questionable pleasure, because her home was her sanctuary. There were piles of shoes, purses, scarves, and belts everywhere. Every single one of her tiny rooms was overflowing with clothes.

“And how would you know that?” I inquired, my curiosity piqued.

He remained silent for a while and pretended that the road was particularly hazardous.

“Kevin?” I was at a loss for words, but I had to ask. “Don’t tell m
e . . .
that you went to bed with her?”

He glanced over.

“No!” He shook his head. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then how was it? Tell me!”

I was more than a little confused. Not that it was any of my business who h
e . . .
But Jenna? Wouldn’t it be weird if we had both slept with the same man?

Sure, Kevin and me, we had only been teenagers when we were together, our young love born from the endless hormonal turmoil of adolescence. And although Kevin’s quiet nature and passion for music were not what I needed during my wild and crazy years, our time together had meant something to me.

“There’s nothing to tell! There was nothing between us. Did she never talk to you about that?”

The car rolled into his garage, and Kevin was in a hurry to climb out. I followed him into the house and then into the kitchen. He threw his jacket over the back of a chair, grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge, and offered me a water.

“If there was
nothing
, Kevin, then why would Jenna even mention it?” I took a sip and sat down. “Do you want her to recount the list of dudes she’s had
nothing
going on with, every time we see each other?”

He smirked.

“That wouldn’t be a very long list!”

“Idiot! Don’t try to change the subject! What happened between you two?”

He sat down with me, looking dejected, and glanced at the kitchen clock. Two in the morning.

“It was this past summer. When we had the garden party at Daniel’s parents’ house.” He looked me in the eye with a gloomy expression on his face and massaged the dimple in his chin. “Remember? You announced you were going to have a baby.”

I remembered it well. It had been an unforgettably beautiful day. Daniel was bursting with pride and happiness as he told our friends the good news. We were pregnant with our first baby! The happiness of that blissful day had put us all in a state of drunkenness, even though I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol.

“Oh God! You guys were so drunk that day! Daniel was barely able to walk up the stairs!”

“I know, I wasn’t in such great shape either. Jenna offered to drive me home.”

I remembered that. But I didn’t recall anything in the air between the two of them.

“What next?”

Kevin ran his hands through his hair a little sheepishly.

“Oh, Piper, is it really that important? We talked, we made out, one thing led to another. We ended up in her apartment, but then”—he looked at me as if it were my fault—“but then I thought that things would get complicated between us i
f . . .
” He took a drink from his beer and looked me square in the eye. “I left, all right? Nothing happened!”

Feeling relieved, I exhaled. The baby was kicking, and even though I had no right to judge Kevin’s love life, I was still glad he hadn’t slept with Jenna.

Slowly he pushed back his chair and got up. “It’s getting late. You can have the bedroom, and I’ll sleep here on the couch.”

He took me upstairs, and it felt strange to follow a man—a man who wasn’t Daniel—into his bedroom. There were posters of scantily clad women on his walls, and I smirked.

“So, I see”—I pointed at a busty blonde on a fire pole—“you sometimes take your work home with you?”

Playfully, I nudged him in the side.

“They’re part of my cover story,” he explained with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “On the rare occasions that I do have a girl up here, those posters are living proof that I’m
not
one of those guys who regularly take women home—because otherwise the posters would be terribly embarrassing.”

I shook my head in disbelief and took stock of the Playboy Bunnies.

“So you mean to tell me that women who come here find those posters reassuring because they think—”

“They’re the first one in here, that’s right.”

“You’re evil!”

He shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the door with an air of nonchalance.

“Are you disappointed, Piper? Did you think you were the first one?”

“Ha-ha, very funny!”

I sank down on the bed awkwardly (as pregnant ladies do) and couldn’t help but grin. “If I recall correctly, Kev, I
was
the first one, and you were pretty clumsy back then! Which is surprising, because your fingers work just fine on a guitar.”

“I beg your pardon?!” He threw himself down on the bed beside me and brushed my hair from my forehead. “You impertinent little person! First, you call me in the middle of the night because you need my help, then you occupy my bed, and to top it all off you’re getting sassy!”

I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt and the baby kicked hard against my ribs.

“Is that why you ended our relationship? Because I was clumsy?” he asked, grinning wickedly. “Because, if that’s the case, I’ve been practicing a lot in the meantime! Want me to prove it to you?”

I snorted with laughter, and tears were streaming down my face. It was incredible how different these tears felt. Almost like they had healing powers. Kevin pretended to contemplate opening his pants.

“Stop it!” I gasped. “I don’t need proof, Kevin. It’s fine, I believe you!”

I rolled over on the mattress and snuggled under the covers. I was still giggling quietly when he lay down beside me.

“Let’s pretend you didn’t just insult my sexual prowess in the meanest possible way and strip away my illusions about my very first sexual encounter. Let me take you in my arms, and we’ll sleep for a bit.”

“What are you saying? What about the couch? You can’t stay here!” I wanted to put him in his place, but he pulled the covers over my shoulders, unimpressed, and slid closer.

“Why not? You are fully clothed, and so am I. You’re under the covers, I’m on top of the covers, and besides, you’re already pregnant. We can make this work, Piper, don’t you think?”

Before I could reply he turned off the lights and put his arm over my hip.

I hesitated. I needed to object! Not only was this not right—it was totally and utterly wrong! What would Daniel say?

Kevin’s breath grazed the back of my neck and, tired, I closed my eyes. The baby calmed down, and I took a deep breath. It was lovely and warm under the covers, and I could feel how weak and exhausted I had been for days.

Daniel was gone. He would want me to be well. He would not mistake this for something it was not.

When I woke the next morning—or rather, the next afternoon—I was alone. Which was fine by me, because not only was I feeling guilty but I was also convinced that this guilt was clearly written all over my face.

I had not slept this well since Daniel’s death, and it worried me. Was I in the process of getting over my loss? Was this even allowed? No, no, surely not! Surely I couldn’t spend a quiet and relaxed night less than four months after his death—and in his best friend’s bed, no less!

There was something about Kevin that I found comforting. Why was it that I could be myself when he was near? Why did I feel lost, always and everywhere—
except
when he was with me? Was it because we had both been so close to Daniel? Because we were both dealing with our grief? Or did none of this have anything to do with Daniel but only with the fact that I was a bad, disloyal human being, someone who was longing to forget Daniel’s death in Kevin’s arms?

I was so wrapped up in blaming myself that I didn’t hear Kevin enter.

“Sleep well?” he asked and pointedly looked at his watch.

I tried to tame my rebellious curls, but I knew this would be impossible without some water and a brush. My sweater was all crumpled up, and I was sure the pillow had left an imprint on my cheek. He, on the other hand, looked super-cute with his shiny nose, red from the cold outside, and his winter hat.

“Hmm, I guess all I needed was a proper mattress.”

“That’s what I thought. Which is why we’re going to buy you a bed right now. Come on!”

His cheerful enthusiasm was contagious, and so I swung my legs out of bed and scurried over the stone-cold floors into the bathroom. Once I was halfway content with the way I looked, I went to find my host in the kitchen. He had filled two travel mugs with coffee and was holding my coat over his arm.

I raised my eyebrows.

“I guess you can’t wait to be rid of me, huh?” I asked, snatching my coffee from him.

“Don’t be silly. But how am I going to explain away the pregnant lady in my bed? You know, something like that could make things a little awkward with my one-night stands.”

There was an odd coldness underneath his jesting, and he was avoiding my eyes. I was a little confused but nodded nonetheless and allowed him to help me into my coat. My scarf was getting caught in my long braid, and I kept tearing at it.

“Sure, sure, I wouldn’t want that. I’ve been looking at beds already—and there was one I really liked. If we could go and pick that up
. . .
”

“Great! We’ll be done pretty quick, then. Which is good, because I still haven’t packed yet.”

Kevin went outside and I followed, feeling more than a little flummoxed. It had been snowing, and there was a thin blanket of snow covering the entire town. Tire tracks showed me that he must have left the house earlier that morning. What the hell was going on?

“What do you need to pack for?” I called after him, plodding through the snow as I walked around the car to the passenger side. When I sat down beside him I was still struggling with my scarf, but Kevin gave me an intense stare that made me freeze.

“I was at the station this morning. They need a few guys to lend a hand down in Portland. The pay’s good, and I could do with a change of scenery.”

He said it so breezily, so matter-of-factly, as if his words weren’t pulling the already shaky ground from under me. I held on to my coffee mug as if for dear life, but it did little to fight the panic rising inside of me.