Authors: Elizabeth Seckman
At the end of the evening, Tucker wanted to kiss her good night, but he couldn’t gather the courage. Instead, he stood there like a moron on her porch, making more conversation while he tried to grow a set big enough to close those few feet between them.
All he had to do was take one step. One step and he’d be close enough.
It never happened. He walked home feeling like he’d lost a big game. As he opened his door, his cell rang. He’d left it on the table, not wanting any distractions while he was with Josie. Picking up the phone, he answered it. “Hello, Mom.”
“Why haven’t you called or answered your damn phone? I was worried sick.”
“I was busy.” Thoughts of Josie flashed through his head. The smell of her hair, the feel of her skin…her smile. He felt lighter than he had in years; his mother was barely annoying.
“What was her name?” His mother didn’t sound the least bit impressed.
“Josie.” He grinned as he said it. Sitting on his couch, he kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the table.
“Josie what? I’ll google her.”
“Holy shit, Mom. We watched a movie.”
“Oh.
Watched a movie,
huh?”
Tucker rolled his eyes and pressed his head against the back of the couch.
“So, find out anything about your missing sister?” she asked.
“No.” He sighed. “It was a dead end.”
“Then you’ll be coming home?”
“No.” His scalp started to itch. Scratching his head, he said, “No, I’m sticking around a while.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m staying here. I got a job.”
There was a long pause before his mother asked, “You still mad at me for not telling you about Rob? That you never got to know your real dad?”
“I’m not happy about it, but—“
“I’m sorry. I hated him for hurting me. For cheating. And he didn’t just cheat on me, but on you, too. I just wanted him to do things my way for a change. Instead, he married Gloria, and they went off to Italy to live happily ever after.”
In that moment, Tucker realized his mom had loved his dad. He imagined being young and pregnant, loving a guy who moved on. He knew from Holly’s cheating that it also made you look and feel like a fool, shattering your pride. “If you’d ever let me finish a sentence, I was going to say, I’m not happy about it, but that’s not why I’m staying. I’m over the past. I’m just not ready to come home.”
She was quiet a second before asking, “Is it Holly?”
He stood and paced the room. “No, it has nothing to do with her. I met a guy down here. He rents cottages and fixes engines and appliances, and he needed summer help and—“
“I think that’d be good for you. Do you need some money?”
Tucker’s mouth dropped open and he felt momentarily speechless. It took him a full second to respond, “No, I’m good.”
“Well, I think a summer at the beach after all you’ve been through is a good idea. So, this girl? She work there too?”
“Yeah, she does.”
“She in college?”
“I don’t know. Like I said, I saw a movie with her. That’s it.”
“So, what’s her last name? Josie what?”
“McCoy.”
His mother laughed. “Josie McCoy? You realize she’s a Pussy Cat doll?”
“A what?”
“The Archie and Jughead comics? Josie and the Pussycats was a band. Josie McCoy was the lead singer. I think there was even a movie in the nineties. Doesn’t that seem strange to you?”
“No.” He paused his pacing. “I went to high school with Bo Jackson.”
“Bo Jackson? He’s not famous.”
“Yeah, he was a pro athlete in the 90’s. Wasn’t that your era?”
“Oh well, I never followed sports much.”
“Really? I’d never have guessed.”
Tucker could hear his stepdad shuffle into the room. “Have you seen the remote?” Ed asked real low, but not quite a whisper.
“Probably in the side of the recliner. I don’t use it. I don’t know why you ask me. I got you the remote holder. How hard is it to put it back when you’re done?”
“That Tucker?”
“Yes. He’s staying down there.”
“That all right with you, dear?” Ed asked.
“Yes. He could use a vacation.”
“Well, then good. Hey Tucker, have fun,” Ed said, his voice coming closer to the phone. “I’m going to go find the remote.” Ed sounded farther away. He was probably trying to escape back to the TV room.
“Hold on a minute, there Mr. Neilson. Have you heard of Bo Jackson?”
“Yeah, he went to school with Tucker.”
“No, a famous athlete Bo?”
“No. Oh wait—there was that guy on the Nike commercial…or was it Gatorade…that Bo knows this and that campaign?”
“Hey Mom, look, you and Ed go google him. I need to get to bed.”
“Of course. Certainly. Love you, sweetie. Keep your pants on.”
“Love you too,” he said before he hung up the phone.
Tucker grabbed his beer and took it to the couch. He opened the email on his phone. Santos sent him police reports. He had to give his friend credit; he was diligent.
The information in the police reports was much the same as the news articles. The only new interesting information was Jeb Stone’s statement. He denied raping his stepdaughter…swore it was consensual. That he loved the girl, and she loved him. A real Woody Allen sort of asshole. He also swore Amanda Stone shot her own daughter and himself in an attempt to frame him. Tucker flipped through the pages. Jeb Stone wasn’t asked a single question about Maddy. What the hell? Maddy was simply chalked up to a runaway? After a murderous pedophile was the last one to see her?
He shut off the phone and switched on the TV. The local newsman predicted a storm brewing in the Caribbean. The island would have some heavy rains in the long-range forecast. Josie was right. A storm was coming.
Going to the kitchen, he grabbed more beer.
Something moved outside his window. Pulling back the curtain, he saw her. Evidently Josie couldn’t sleep either and was going for a midnight stroll. He dropped his beer on the table and followed her. “Josie?” he called. She didn’t turn or even seem to notice he was behind her.
Walking as if in a trance, she made her way to a small graveyard. The white rounded head stones were ancient, the writing rubbed smooth and unreadable by time. The once-white picket fence surrounding the graves was now a weathered mildew-gray with peeling paint and rotting boards. On the crooked gate hung a dead flowered wreath adorned with a tattered bow. The constant sound of chirping crickets seemed louder in the dark, and the wind blew in low, warm gusts.
Josie opened the gate and stepped inside. Moving gracefully around the stones, she finally knelt. Bowing her head, she sat still a long time before standing and turning, nearly bumping into Tucker.
“You’re up late,” she said.
“I saw you through the window, and wondered where you were going?”
Laying a hand on his cheek, she brushed her thumb across his skin. “I needed to think some things over.”
Looking around at the creepy place, he asked, “Here? You come here to think?”
“Sometimes.” She walked slowly toward the gate, pausing a moment as if waiting for him to follow.
They left the graveyard wordlessly. Once they were on the road, she turned toward him, taking his hand in hers. “You’re troubled. I feel it. The pain I deeper than losing a friend.”
His mouth went dry and the muscles on his shoulders tensed. He had no clue how to respond to a revelation this insane by a chick, albeit a hot one, who was just meditating in a grave yard.
“I’m sorry.” Josie sighed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You have such a good heart.” Then she stopped in the middle of the road and kissed him—just a slight brush over his lips with her own cool ones. She was so close he could smell the honey suckle, feel the warmth from her body. Proximity so enticing his mouth watered, but still, hanging out in graveyards was crazy. “What’s in the graveyard?”
“Dead people.” She grinned. Her eyes sparkled with mischief in the moonlight.
Tucker couldn’t help but smile back. He decided maybe it wasn’t all that odd. “Wow. A comedienne too. You’re freshly amazing at every turn.”
Josie laughed, her body dipping toward him, nearly touching her chest to his. Tugging on his hand, she pulled him along with her, explaining as she walked slowly back toward the cabins. “Most graves are blessed. They’re sacred ground, so it’s a peaceful place. No interference. I can think best there.”
He wanted to pretend that wasn’t a weird answer. Tension moved up his spine, causing every snap and rustle in the dense foliage to be amplified. When they arrived at their cottages, Josie kept hold of his hand as she turned toward him. “I wish you weren’t troubled. You were so happy today.”
His laugh was dry. “I’m not troubled. I just saw you walking and I…”
“Well, I couldn’t sleep. And I suspect you don’t sleep very well either. We may as well be up together, right?” She smiled and led him to her place. Inside, the hum of the air conditioner was the only sound. Soft hands moved up his arms to rest on his shoulders. He caught her by the hips, his fingers inching their way around her waist until he had her wrapped in his arms. Then leaning down, he kissed her. She pulled back ever so slightly as if she’d never been kissed. Tucker wasn’t ready to let her go, not when he’d finally made it this close. Moving his hands from her waist to her cheeks, he held her, tilting her head, allowing his lips to explore hers. At first he worried he’d gone too far as her breath caught in her throat, but then with a sweet sigh, she relaxed against him.
Taking a step back, she pressed her hands to her reddening cheeks. “Wow.”
Tucker smiled.
Josie slid her hands to his upper arms, squeezing the heavy muscles as they roamed. “Now, will you tell me what happened to your friend?”
The warmth of her next to him made him feel calmer, and as if reading his mind, she stepped even closer, wrapping her arms tight around him.
He closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet smell of her. “It was a Monday morning…typical day at the office…” His chuckle was brittle. She gave him a patient look.
Taking a deep breath, he explained, “Our platoon was on a transport, you know one of those Humvees with an open top?” Josie nodded. “Anyhow, we were riding along this narrow city street. We thought the area was cleared, so we were kind of relaxing, joking around. Suddenly Ash jumps up. I thought he was goofing off, but then I heard the pop.” Tucker held her tighter. “A bullet doesn’t really go bang, it makes a pop. I heard it- pop, pop…a shooter in a window.” Tucker took a deep breath. “Ash had his arms up, covering me, and that’s where the bullet got him…right through his raised arm into his damned heart.” Tucker was quiet a minute. His voice cracked, so he cleared it. “There is one weakness in the vest where the plates dip under the arm pit. What were the son-of-a-bitchen odds that shooter hit that exact spot?”
Josie shook her head as she hugged him tighter.
“I often wonder if it was a fair trade. That bullet was meant for me. If he hadn’t gotten in the way, he’d be alive. He had a kid. A little boy who will never know his dad. For what?”
Josie pressed her cheek to his chest. After a long silence, she said quietly, “For you. Personally, I’m glad it’s you right here right now.”
He relaxed his body into hers. Buried his face in her hair.
She kissed his cheek and pressed her hand to his heart. “None of it is your fault. Not your friend, not Holly. You have to let it all go.”
Tucker tried to remember what he’d told her about Holly. He was pretty sure he’d not said anything. As he was about to ask her what the hell she was talking about, she moved her hands down his arms and led him to her room.
Waking him with a light kiss, Josie stood above him, smiling down at him. Tucker stretched and tried to snuggle deeper into the soft sweet sheets and pillows that were more like fluffy clouds than the thin bags of polyester he used.
“You better get up. I don’t want Murray to know you slept here. I’m not sure he’d approve.”
“Shit.” Tucker nearly pulled a muscle rolling out of bed. Murray would never believe they didn’t have sex. Hell, he barely believed it. He remembered snuggling in, her kissing him and brushing soothing fingers through his hair, and then he woke up. Had he even tried to make a move? He knew it had been a long time since he’d slept well, but to crash that close to the red zone?
Josie sat on the edge of the bed and grinned. “I wasn’t going to have sex with you, no matter how good your moves were.”
He almost tripped over his jeans as he pulled them up naked legs. “I wasn’t…”
Josie laughed and walked from the room. When he emerged, she kissed him on the cheek. He damn near had to bite his tongue in half to stop from saying, “I love you.” Instead, he offered an almost intelligible promise of getting together later.
As he stumbled out into the harsh morning light, he wondered—was she some sort of witch? Looking back over his shoulder, he saw her in her window. She waved at him, and he smiled. If she was, he supposed it didn’t matter.
He practically ran to get to Murray’s shop by ten.
He got his list of work: a washer to pick up, unclog a sink in cabin four, and so on. He started at the top of the list and finished as quickly as he could. The whole time he worked, thoughts of Josie occupied him. Last job done, Murray told him to go find Josie and help her spruce up the door on one of the cottages. Some ignorant renter used it as a dart board, which was fine with Tucker because it gave him an opportunity to be with Josie. Time spent with her, even over a can of paint, suited him just fine.
He found her hard at work, humming a tune he didn’t recognize. Stepping up on the porch, he asked, “You need some help?”
“You have perfect timing. I’m just about done.”
He took the brush and bucket from her. “Then I better work fast, so I can remind you I helped when I ask you to spend the evening with me.”
“Giving up charm for guilt?” The smile she gave him made his heart swell.
“Whatever it takes,” he said, smoothing yellow paint across the grains in the door.
Josie sat beside him, her arms wrapped around her legs. “What did you have in mind?”
“Grab a bite and hit the beach?” he asked.
“Sounds good to me. I’m starved. And hot.”
A truer statement was never made
, Tucker thought as he glanced at Josie, swiping paint across the window.
“Oops,” Josie said, hopping up and cleaning the window with a rag she had tucked in her back pocket. “There,” she said, “door looks good.” She grabbed the paint and stuck the lid on it. “I just need to clean these, and we’re done.”
They walked back toward their cottages. There was an outside spigot next to his garbage can. Tucker took the brush and started cleaning, and Josie wiped the paint from the side of the can with a paper towel. Finished, she pulled the lid off his trashcan and said, “Holy cow, these all yours?”
Tucker felt his skin turn red from his collar to his scalp.
“That’s a lot of cans. That’s a lot of beer,” Josie said.
Tucker looked in the trash. A few nights’ drinks made a more impressive stack when gathered together. “It’s almost a week’s worth. And I’m recycling.”
“Three days. You’ve been here three days.” Her words dripped with worry. He was about to throw out some justifications, but she stopped him. “Come on,” she said. “I want to show you a special place.”
Tucker agreed, happy to be moving away from his garbage. She led him down their road, past the cemetery, and down a shady valley into a thicket of woods. In the center was a small pond. The grass around it was lush and tender, the air thick with the cool moist scent of moss and earth. Warblers, mousey palm-sized birds, sang their sweet sing-song soprano from the trees overhead. It was a melodic change from the bold, near-bitchy squawks of the gulls on the shore.
“Isn’t it beautiful here? It’s a sanctuary. A long time ago, there was a lady who owned this land, and there was a little house. It was sort of dug into the side of that hill, like a Hobbit hole without the cuteness, so no one could see it unless they were looking for it.” Josie pointed to the area where the place would have been. “Pirates would raid ships and towns, and they’d take women as spoils. Since there are hundreds of hidden coves on this island, Ocracoke was a popular pirate haven. Sometimes, if the women were lucky, if they made their way here, she’d help the captured women escape.”
“I’ve never heard that.”
“It’s not in any of the written history. She didn’t exactly advertise it, or it wouldn’t have been a secret place.”
“So, how did the women find it?”
“The lady who lived here would hang strings of shells from the trees, and the sound called to those in need.”
Tucker scratched his head as he thought of tinkling shells and wondered if this woman and Mags had anything else in common.
Josie turned to him and smiled. “I’m not completely crazy, I swear.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
She moved closer, stepping into him as easily as if she’d done it a million times. The sunshine filtered through the trees, making lacy patterns on her skin. Yellow paint speckled her hair, and a smidge of it was smeared on her cheek. His lips pulled into a smile as she looked up at him. She looked innocent. Gullible. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. When she didn’t resist, he kissed her. He was much taller, but she fit perfectly into him. She seemed far more comfortable around him than she did the first day he met her, but he could still feel some hesitation.
He couldn’t risk making a wrong move, and honestly, he didn’t have much experience with girls like Josie. Most of his
relationships
started with a pick up and ended a few hours later. Well, there was Holly, but their hot-and-cold train wreck started and stopped so often, he couldn’t remember how it first began.
No, Josie was different. He’d play it smart. So, with a final, light kiss on her lips, he pulled away.
Pink-cheeked, she cleared her throat and said, “We probably don’t have time for the beach now.”
“That’s all right. I’m glad you brought me here. This is an interesting place.”
Josie looked around. “It’s one of my favorite spots. But I’m still hungry, and I bet you are too. How about I make you dinner?”
“Sounds perfect.” They shared one last kiss before walking back silently. When they reached their places, she turned to him and smiled. “Give me twenty minutes. I just need a quick shower. I painted more of myself than the door.”
“I noticed.” He brushed his thumb across the smear of paint on her cheek. Pulling her toward him, he kissed her. “I must say, you look delicious in yellow.”
“Such a flirt.” With a wink and a peck on his cheek, she was gone. He stood in the shared lawn and watched her until her door was closed. With a sigh, he headed to his own place. Logically, he knew the girl was a bit weird. But there was something about her, beyond the irresistible body and a smile that made his heart stop. When he was with her, he felt content, peaceful. When she walked away, the shadows returned. He had a feeling a relationship with Josie was never something he’d be able to control. Like the waves in the ocean, he was best to just roll with it.
Showered and changed into clean shorts, he headed over for dinner. She had on cutoff denim shorts and a v-neck tee. She was dipping stir-fried chicken and vegetables over rice.
They sat together at her little table and ate. She asked him questions about Iraq. Was there much color, because it looked so brown on TV? Was it scary? Were there really fleas in the sand?…and so on.
“So, have you always lived here on the island?” he asked, turning the questions on her.
“No. I’ve only been here a few years.”
“Where did you live before here?”
“Here and there,” Josie said as she dropped her fork on her plate and scooted away from the table. “Nothing memorable. This is home now.” She gathered her dirty dishes and washed them, straightening up the place with an efficiency that would have impressed a drill sergeant. Tucker was so absorbed in watching her movements, she was almost done before he thought to hop up and help. Wordlessly, he took over the job of washing while she dried and put everything away.
“About how many people live here in the off season?”
Josie brows raised in thought. “I really couldn’t say for sure…a lot less?”
Dishes done. Tucker pulled the drain stop and wiped out the sink. “Did you go to school here? Was it very big?”
“I didn’t technically graduate,” Josie said.
Tucker nodded. “Home schooled?”
“Uh, yeah. I didn’t want to start a new school for the last two years, so Hetty hired a tutor—a retired professor living on the island.”
“You get to go to prom? Stuff like that?”
Josie set the potted plant back in the center of the table. “No, but none of that stuff mattered much to me. I was just happy to be here and away from home.”
“Was it that bad?”
“Oh, it wasn’t so much bad,” Josie said, her hands trembled as she gripped the back of the chair. “Let’s just say my mother and I didn’t see eye to eye.”
“Sounds like your mom and Murray aren’t anything alike.”
Josie laughed, but it was far from good humored. “Oh, no. They’re night and day. No one would ever believe they’re related.”
Tucker nodded. “I can understand that. To be honest, one of the reasons I asked Murray for a job was to avoid a summer with my mother.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, though I’m glad it brought you here.”
For the first time he could remember, Josie made full eye contact with him without blushing and looking away. A warmth spread though him that was so foreign and so intimate, he suddenly felt the need to look away.
“Maybe tonight we could watch
The Birds
,” she said, taking a step closer to him.
It felt good to make plans. It felt solid. He closed the space between them, leaned forward, and brushed a kiss across her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she didn’t pull back, so he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He kissed her again. Her breath was warm against his cheek, her lips soft and pliant.
He could have kissed her all night, but he didn’t want to push his luck.
Pulling away, but not letting go, he said, “So about those birds...”
“It’s actually a stupid movie.”
“But it’s iconic, right? How can I say I’ve never seen
The Birds
?”
“True,” she said. He held her hand as they made their way to the living area. She didn’t pull away until she went to set up the movie. Once it was over, Tucker had to admit, the movie was lame compared to today’s horror standards.
“I told you it was bad,” Josie laughed.
“Hey, I thought it was awesome. I mean how Tipi Hedren made her car peal out on gravel was pretty impressive.”
“Tipi Hedren?”
“Melanie? The main—“
“I know who played Melanie. I’m just shocked you know who she is.”
“I lived with my mom and grandma without any sort of manly influence until my mom married my stepdad. I know all sorts of things a guy my age shouldn’t have to know.”
Josie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You never cease to amaze me.”
Tucker tried really hard to think of something clever to say, but his brain wouldn’t comply. Instead, it was stuck in a loop like Sally Field at the Oscars,
you like me; you like me. Shit
, his mind finally jolted awake.
What the hell?
Sally Field
?
As if she could read his melting mind, she leaned close to him and whispered, “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he said. The A/C hummed and the clock ticked. Tucker finally said, “I guess I better head on home.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Josie agreed. As she stood, the soft skin of her legs brushed against his knee making his brain run away with ideas he’d best consider when she wasn’t around. His heart raced, and his palms sweated. Trying to fake calm, he tripped over his own feet as he stood, stumbling into her, planting an awkward kiss on her lips.
On his walk home, he chastised himself for his lack of mojo. He had better moves than that. He shouldn’t have offered to go home. She practically invited him to make a play for her. If he had, he’d probably be wrapped in her arms right now. He’d never met a girl who made him feel so comfortable and inept at the same time.