Waking Up Gray (29 page)

Dana’s voice came from above Gray. She was still on the dock. She giggled and said, “Here, hold my beer. I’m a little buzzed to be crawling down this ladder.”

Gray laughed, reached up, and took the beer from Dana’s hand. Gray moved over in front of the ladder, poised to help Dana if she fell. Of course she did. Lizbeth saw through that move easily. Dana, instead of turning around and backing down the ladder, faced Gray and attempted a descent. She made two rungs before falling into Gray and sliding down her body. Gray caught her without dropping the beer and held her just a little too long for Lizbeth’s taste. She heard a sharp intake of breath behind her ear, as Mazie must have seen it too.

Gray released Dana and went to the bow. She untied the bowline, started the engine, released the stern line, and sat down on the seat at the console with Dana. The running lights on the boat flicked on. In the glow from the console, Lizbeth could see Dana smile over at Gray as she backed the boat into the harbor. Dana slid her arm around Gray’s waist and Gray’s arm went around Dana, pulling her close into her side. Gray turned the boat toward the mouth of the harbor and slowly pulled away.

Lizbeth’s hands went to her face. They tried to rub the image of what she had just seen away, but it didn’t help. She clasped her hands below her chin in a sign of prayer, pursed her lips, and sighed heavily. Mazie put her arm around her mother’s shoulder.

“I am so sorry, Mom. I would have never bet on that happening. I was sure she was in love with you.”

Lizbeth bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry. Her mind raced away from her for a moment. Everything around her disappeared. She could only see flashes of the last ten days, much as she imagined her life would flash by her in the end. When the last images faded and her surroundings became real again, Lizbeth blinked her eyes and focused. The task was daunting, but Lizbeth was determined to be packed and off this island, before the last ferry left at midnight. Gray wasn’t coming back.

Lizbeth started walking quickly without a word to Mazie, who was trying to keep in step beside her. Mazie was reasoning the situation aloud. “You don’t know what that was all about. Maybe they’re just taking a ride. Maybe Gray’s just taking her time, waiting for the right moment. You heard what Fanny said, she might be taking her out to dump the body.”

“You saw her. I don’t think dumping Dana’s body is what’s on Gray’s mind. More like fucking her out there on the high seas is my guess.” Lizbeth had made up her mind that Gray couldn’t resist Dana. She hadn’t thought Gray was strong enough and she had been right. Gray might have thought she was in love with Lizbeth, but when she was presented with Dana in the flesh, Gray had been forced to face the truth. She would always be in love with Dana and Lizbeth couldn’t and wouldn’t compete with that.

Mazie was having a hard time staying up with Lizbeth without breaking into an all out run. “Slow down. Where are we going? What are we doing?”

Self-preservation mode kicked in. Lizbeth remembered it well. It had gotten her through some of the worst times. Lizbeth allowed it to guide her. She trusted it to make all the decisions. Lizbeth had been making the decisions herself up to now, and look what a mess she’d made.

Lizbeth’s voice was scary calm, even to her. “Mazie, I know you’ve had a long day, so you can stay, but I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going back to Durham, where I belong,” Lizbeth answered.

Mazie didn’t think that was a good idea. “You should wait until morning. You did give her that long.”

Lizbeth was determined. “I don’t need to wait. I saw enough.”

Mazie grabbed Lizbeth and brought her to a halt. “Stop! Just stop! Listen to me.”

Lizbeth stopped, but she didn’t care what Mazie had to say, she was leaving.

“I saw the same thing you saw, Mother, and granted I’m not in love with her, but I think you’re letting jealousy cloud your judgment. I still think there’s room to hope here. You did tell her to make sure. Maybe that’s what she’s doing, what you asked of her.”

Lizbeth’s glare took Mazie aback. She released her grip on her mother’s shoulders when Lizbeth said, “Mazie, I love you, but get out of my way.”

Mazie gave it one more try. “There won’t be a hotel with an empty room all the way to Durham. We’ll leave on the first ferry tomorrow morning.”

Lizbeth had turned her fear and hurt into anger. “You stay. I am getting the fuck off this island!”

Mazie saw no reason to argue. While her mother went to pack, Mazie crossed the street to where Fanny was still sitting on the porch. Lizbeth could see them talking through the upstairs windows as she packed her suitcases. Packing was much quicker this time than when she had done it for the trip down. She didn’t care how the stuff went into the bags. Lizbeth balled up clothes and crammed belongings into every opening in the suitcases.

Mazie came in from Fanny’s just in time to help pack up the spare bedroom. She began putting research materials and pads containing notes for Lizbeth’s paper into boxes and hauling them to the car. They worked quietly, barely speaking. Mazie, it appeared, had decided to go along. Lizbeth ran through the downstairs, grabbing personal items and throwing them into her big canvas shoulder bag. The food she would leave. Someone would come to clean and throw away anything she left behind. Double-checking the washer and dryer, Lizbeth then turned the lights off in the kitchen and prepared to leave for the last time.

She looked around the little kitchen while she stood there in the dark. There was a lifetime of memories in this house, old and new ones. The new ones she hoped in time would fade. Having this short-lived affair with the tall, tanned, blonde across the street had hopefully not marred the old memories. Lizbeth would have to worry about that later. Right now, she had to get away, because she never wanted to see Gray O’Neal again.

Lizbeth walked out the front door, shutting it for the last time. She turned the key in the lock and heard the bolt latch. The loud thud shook her, but she held it together. Lizbeth kept telling herself if she could just get home, then she could fall apart. She turned to leave and discovered Fanny standing by Mazie in the front yard. Lizbeth made her way over to the old woman and hugged her.

“Thank you, Fanny, for everything. You’ve been really good to me, I’ll never forget you.”

Fanny, who always had something wise to say, was speechless. Disappointment creased her already leather lined face even more. She held out a card in her hand, finally managing to say, “Mazie gave me your phone number. I’m listed in the book. Call me sometime, Lizbeth. Gray never answers my phone.”

“I will, but let me have a little while. I won’t forget to call you, I promise. Just give me some time.” Lizbeth said, feeling the tears begin to burn through the barrier she had erected against them.

Mazie hugged Fanny and her mother and then got into her car, pulling it out onto the street so Lizbeth could back out in the Mustang. When Lizbeth had her car facing School Road, away from the docks, she paused in the street. She looked around and felt the first tear trickle down her cheek. Fanny tapped on Lizbeth’s partially opened window. She had walked toward her house and stopped to wave goodbye to Lizbeth. Now, she leaned down, peering into the car. Lizbeth rolled down the window all the way.

Fanny put both hands on the car door. “Lizbeth, she’s a damn fool and I intend to tell her that. Do you want me to tell her somethin’ for you?”

There were a million things going through Lizbeth’s head that she would like to say to Gray. The only thing that she could grab onto, as the thoughts whirled in her head, was, “Tell her, I hope she’ll be happy.”

Lizbeth hit the accelerator, because she could no longer control the flow of the tears that began to pour down her face. Through blurry, water filled eyes, she looked in the side mirror and saw Fanny waving, still standing in the street. Lizbeth looked away, determined not to look back.

It was after four in the morning when Lizbeth pulled her car into the garage at her home in Durham. Lizbeth’s home was a monstrosity her husband had insisted they build. He was sorry now. With its five bedrooms and over eleven thousand square feet on five acres, it was much too much house for Lizbeth. Lizbeth had grown accustomed to the finer things in life, but her time in the little cottage on Ocracoke had convinced her she would be happy in a smaller home with much less stuff. She had thought about getting a loft apartment downtown, but wanted to wait until she graduated before making the move.

The soaring ceilings and spiraling stairway were impressive. It was a beautiful home. The property contained a theatre, fitness and sauna room, stone fire pit on the patio, full guesthouse, pool, and spa. The master suite on the second floor was of royal proportions. Lizbeth had worked with a designer on the kitchen layout and loved to supervise huge meals, cooked with the help of a professional chef, and throw parties for guests. That’s how she had survived her marriage. She threw herself into being the best wife and mother she could be. Hosting parties for James’ clients or baking cookies with Mazie and her friends had seen her through the worst of times.

Lizbeth didn’t entertain anymore. She only took the house because James had loved it so. It was an important part of his grandiose self-image. She wanted him to know what it felt like to have to start over, build your life again. Lizbeth hurt James where she could, in his wallet and his ego. It was obvious he had no heart. The house would go on the market soon, and if he wanted it back, she’d make sure he paid top dollar. That was one way to get her money out of the deal in the current housing market. Lizbeth’s house appraised at nearly four million dollars.

Behind the gates of her exclusive neighborhood, locked tightly in her mansion, Lizbeth fell apart. She had refused to let Mazie stay with her, saying she needed to just cry it out and get it over with. Mazie had her doubts that it would be that easy. She wanted to stay with Lizbeth and watch over her. Lizbeth refused her company, unplugged all the house phones, and turned her cell phone off. Lizbeth didn’t want to see or talk to anyone for a few days. She preferred to wallow in her misery alone.

Lizbeth did not unpack the car when she arrived. She went straight upstairs, took off her clothes, and crawled into bed. She had cried off and on the whole trip. She was spent emotionally and physically. It did not take Lizbeth long to cry herself to sleep. Six hours later, her eyes popped open.

Lizbeth was awakened from a dream of Gray, coming for her as she stood on the shore waiting. Gray was on a boat, but every time she tried to clear the breakers to reach Lizbeth, the wind and rain drove her back, the waves pounding her hull. Lizbeth ran up and down the beach, waving her arms, calling to Gray to rescue her from the unknown island. Each attempt pushed the boat further out to sea. Finally, the boat was just a dot on the horizon and Lizbeth screamed for Gray not to leave her behind. The scream had escaped the land of dreams and reverberated around Lizbeth’s cavernous bedroom.

Lizbeth blinked her eyes. It took only that long for the full force of where she was and what had happened to seize her with misery again. Sleep had been a respite from the gnawing agony in her gut. Once more, the pain of loss invaded her every thought and nerve ending in her body. It wasn’t just heartbreak. It was a smack down from a mind that would not be led astray again. She was going to remember this pain for a long while. There would be no next time.

Lizbeth threw her body over on its side, trying to force the sleep to return. She buried her face in the pillows, pulling the covers up tightly around her neck. She was naked and the air conditioning was doing its job very well. Lizbeth had lacked the energy to put on clothes to sleep in after removing the ones she had on when she arrived this morning. She normally did not sleep naked. She never had. Mazie came so soon after their marriage, she and James had just never slept without clothes on. She never knew when she would have to get up or when Mazie would join them. In the last ten days, Lizbeth had gotten used to not having anything on in bed, well, except for Gray’s body draped across hers.

Her mind lost control of her memory and allowed it to share once again the thrill of Gray holding her while she slept. Gray’s lean, smooth muscles pressing into her back, her small round breasts warm and soft against Lizbeth’s skin. Gray’s legs entwined in hers, those strong arms around her, it all came rushing back. Lizbeth gasped into sobs and stayed that way for some time.

Later, when she was able to climb out of bed and make it downstairs to the kitchen, she sat drinking a cup of coffee, and shoving oatmeal down her throat. She didn’t want the food, nor could she taste it. She was simply eating because she had to, or go into shock. She had only a housecoat covering her body. Even her skin hurt. She didn’t think she could tolerate clothing yet; maybe after a shower if she could muster the energy. She thought about just getting in the hot tub and letting it do the work. It would help with the tension in her overloaded muscles. She could take a bottle of wine with her. At least if she got drunk, she might pass out. Aching dreams and nightmares would be welcome in comparison to her current state.

Lizbeth’s cell phone sat on the kitchen table beside her purse, where she had dropped it upon entering the house. She picked it up and turned it back on. She needed to let Mazie know she was all right, or her darling daughter would be over there pestering her. The phone buzzed and rang with different tones, alerting Lizbeth to missed texts and calls. She had programmed Gray’s cell phone info into it days before. When she flipped it open and pressed the missed calls button, she saw Gray’s name fill up the screen. As she scrolled down the screen, she saw that Gray had called nearly every fifteen minutes since seven o’clock that morning.