Our shopping episode resembled a cross between a debate and a game show. I never dreamed the simple purchase of a shirt could involve such intense negotiation. What should have been a simple, fifteen-minute visit to the clothing department of a moderately priced store turned into an hour of diplomacy and concession. I sighed, now aware that buying clothes was one of those things Beck didn’t do often, and therefore wasn’t particularly good at. After briefly wondering what sort of person she would have been if not for that brain injury, I decided I liked her exactly as she was.
As we began walking toward the restaurant, I thought about having a drink. But when Beck slipped her hand into mine, the urge faded. “Thank you,” she said. “I know I’m terrible at getting new clothes, but you made it easier.” She looked at me almost shyly. “You make everything better. I love—”
She paused as I raised my hand to her lips to stop her from finishing the sentence. My heartbeat had tripled, but I wasn’t sure if it was due to discomfort or elation at what she might say. At that same moment, my phone rang, and my motion switched to removing it from my jacket pocket.
As Beck said, “I love spending time with you,” I breathed out in relief, thankful I hadn’t recognized the number and could put my phone on mute while feeling oddly conflicted about what Beck had said…or hadn’t said.
Our only conversation about love had been so long ago, we both seemed like different people now. But Beck never seemed to expect or need a reply to her remarks, no matter how personal. I squeezed her hand, and she looked at me with that smile I’d been drawn to from the start.
We arrived at the restaurant, and I opened the door with a flourish.
“Wow,” she said, looking around, wide-eyed. “I’ve lived here my whole life and never eaten at the Seagoer.” I slipped in and gave my name to the hostess. As we followed her to our table, Beck said, “You know that girl Peyton I used to see? My friend Jonsey told me he got her a job here.”
Well, shit. “As a waitress?”
“Oh no. She busses tables.”
Once seated, we sipped our water as we studied the menu. “Emily,” Beck whispered. “This place is really expensive.”
“I told you, this is my treat,” I answered as she shook her head. I touched her arm. “Your cooking has saved me a fortune, and I want to do this. Please, enjoy yourself.”
She sighed. “I don’t know what half of this is. Would you order for me?” she asked, loosening her tie.
I liked how she’d asked. It did feel like a date, except we already knew each other. Maybe this was what longtime couples did? “Tell me what you’re in the mood for.”
“I already have what I’m in the mood for,” she said, looking at me intently.
I felt myself blushing. “Me too,” I answered, reaching for her hand.
The meal was delicious, and Beck was wonderful company, as always. After we’d finished, I excused myself to visit the restroom before starting for home. This outing felt decidedly different from any previous visits to such places. I hadn’t overeaten, and I wasn’t at all tipsy. And what had been a lovely evening had the promise of being an even more enjoyable night—together.
Returning to the dining room, I was greeted by the unexpected sight of Beck standing by the bar, faced by Peyton, who was clasping her arm. Beck was leaning away and looking rather uncomfortable, but I couldn’t stop the churning in my gut nor the roaring in my head. Jealous, yes, but I also felt terribly possessive. Starting toward them, I had no plan except to get my lover away from that woman’s clutches.
When Beck turned, something in her eyes eased both my anger and my steps. Maybe it was the lighting or that she was looking directly at me, but I could read her expression clearly. I saw uneasiness but not guilt, and a stunning depth of delight at my appearance. I’d never seen a woman look at me quite that way before, but still, I knew exactly what it meant. One, Peyton’s presence didn’t mean a damn thing, and two, Beck Reynolds was in love with me.
My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it. I’d meant to check it in the restroom but now was glad I hadn’t. What if I’d missed that look? And what was I going to do about it? Nothing. You can figure this out later. Peyton must have seen it too, because she departed quickly.
At home, Beck held out a bowl of the last strawberries of the season. “Would you be my dessert?”
“If you’ll be mine.” We ate the fruit off each other’s bodies until we were sticky and satisfied. Or so I thought until we showered.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” she murmured, her voice hoarse as we dried each other off, having both experienced a steamy third orgasm.
We got into bed, and I whispered, “I love spending time with you too.”
The last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep was Beck sighing happily and kissing the top of my head.
* * *
It was midday before I thought to check my cell. Beck and I had such a nice morning that I began wondering what it would be like to honestly say how I felt about her, assuming I could put it into words. Not love, surely, but possibly something close to it. I’d been pondering that concept since she left for work, and I’d totally forgotten my phone was on mute. When I looked, I was shocked to find twelve missed calls, all from the same unfamiliar number. There were also ten texts and five voice mails, but I hesitated to look at them, fearing some pesky solicitor or deranged fan had somehow found my number. As I held the phone, it buzzed again, and a strange thought entered my mind. What if it was Abby? What if she’d escaped after years and years of captivity and had finally found all that was left of her original family? I clicked on the most recent text. An obviously irate message popped onto the screen.
Goddamn it, Emily. If you don’t write me back in the next five minutes, I’m getting in the car and driving there, I swear to God. This is Mel, btw. Again. Still.
Whose phone are you using? I replied.
Answer this call or else.
The phone vibrated, and I picked up.
“Where the fuck-all have you been?” she demanded.
“I’ve been right here, but I put the phone on mute since I didn’t recognize this number.”
“You could have looked at one of the texts or listened to the voice mail to find out.”
I sighed. “Just tell me, Mel.”
She took a breath, obviously trying to calm herself. “June and I broke up, and I have a new number.”
I nodded, though I knew she couldn’t see me. That was Mel’s routine ever since an irate ex had tried to get revenge by giving her cell to every unlikely charity and oddball company she could think of. Now it was good-bye, girl, hello, new number. “You and June broke up? When? Why?”
“About two days after you called with news of your new schedule. She hadn’t bothered to tell me until I expressed some concern that you weren’t here yet. It made me mad, and I said some things. Then she got mad and said some other things. Plus, she’d started bringing those damn cats over all the time, and they were always getting into stuff. It was what I needed to do.”
I felt a flash of guilt. “Oh, Mel, are you sure you can’t work it out? I really like June.”
“Well, good, you can start dating her when you get back to the city. Which needs to be in, like, three days.”
My stomach turned. “What do you mean? I don’t have anything scheduled until November.”
“You didn’t, but now you do. Some execs from Saga Films in LA are flying here. I’ll do the negotiating, but they want to meet you too, just to make sure you’re on board so there won’t be any trouble getting the rights. This could be it, Emily. Our big break.”
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even swallow. Seconds ticked by. Finally, I forced out two words before I stopped. “Mel, I…”
She didn’t wait for me to finish. “You what, Emily? Don’t tell me this cleaning butch has some golden pussy that has you in its spell. You can’t give up this deal for a little tail. There’s plenty of that here. I’ll drive down tomorrow and help you.”
“No, Mel. Not tomorrow. I need a day at least.”
“You’ve got today. And I wouldn’t be in until late tomorrow. In the meantime, say what you have to say or do what you have to do and start packing.”
She hung up. I knew there was nothing to be gained by calling her back. I felt the tears on my face before I realized I was crying. I hadn’t felt so undone since Abby disappeared. And this wasn’t going to hurt only me. Envisioning Beck’s reaction to this news made me sob out loud. At length, emotionally exhausted, I forced myself to abandon any belief in the possibilities of this relationship once and for all. This was simply another place, and Beck was just another woman. Life was exactly as I’d always known. Anything good was fleeting and always ended in despair. Wiping my face, I went to get my suitcase.
But I couldn’t tell her I was leaving. Not so soon. As I packed everything that wouldn’t be obvious, the budding romantic in me had bargained with the confirmed cynic for a few last hours of the way it had been. I tried to keep my voice level and not lie to her, desperate to hang on to the feelings I knew would soon disappear forever. But after our greeting, she obviously sensed something was wrong. She checked me for fever after I told her I hurt all over, which was true. I said I didn’t want anything to eat—also not a lie—and suggested she do something on her project. She kissed me softly on the cheek and went to change. To keep from crying again, I bit my lip so hard I almost drew blood. When she came out with a heavy apron over the ripped jeans and torn T-shirt she worked in, I realized the last thing I wanted was to be apart from her.
“Can I watch? Please?”
“No, baby. I’m using the welding torch right now, and I don’t have any extra eye protection.” At my pleading look, she said, “I’ll go by school tomorrow and get some for you, okay?” How could I tell her there wouldn’t be a tomorrow for us? I turned away, and she moved behind me, resting her hands lightly on my shoulders. “Is it possible a walk on the beach would make you feel better?”
Turning to her, I nuzzled into her chest and nodded. I hated thinking about all the “lasts” we were now having, last walk on the beach, last evening with the two of us at the house, and certainly the last time to sleep together once she found out what I’d been keeping from her. During the brief intersection of our lives, I’d felt so much more for her than I’d even imagined possible, but I’d also known that it would end. Such good things always did, the only question was how and why. For us, despite the closeness we’d found, the distance between us was too great to bridge, our lives too different to reconcile. Hers was here, grounded in the dependable diversity that the sea offered, while mine was in the city where I was fed by my antagonism toward the hustle and bustle of humanity and the stability of my friends that balanced the precariousness of my inner world. I wondered if I’d ever be able to explain it to her in any way that made sense, when it barely made sense to me.
She changed back into her shorts, and we made our way to the water’s edge. The tide was out, and we had lots of room, but I stayed as close as I could to her. Instead of walking hand in hand or arm in arm as we sometimes did, I pulled her against me by the waist. She took hold of my shoulders but stopped walking as she looked into my face.
“You have that worried line here,” she said, touching my forehead between my eyes. “Are you sure you don’t have something to tell me?”
“Remember last week when you were out on the deck, and you were sad about something but said it wasn’t a good idea to tell me?” She nodded, her face solemn. “That’s how I feel right now. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to be here with you.”
“Okay.”
After a while, the silence between us started to feel like distance, something else I wasn’t ready to deal with. “Are we anywhere near your hideaway?” I asked.
“It’s about fifty yards farther.” She pointed down the beach.
“How can you tell? It looks like more sand and dunes to me.”
“I lived there sometimes. It’s like how you can tell one house from another when you live in a big neighborhood.”
I thought of a dozen arguments of why that wasn’t a valid comparison, but instead I asked, “Did you ever repair it, after the storm?”
“No.” She grinned. “I found somewhere much nicer to live.”
“Is that so?” I teased.
“Yep. And the scenery?” She held me at arm’s length. “I’ve never known anything more beautiful.”
Shit. Now I really was going to cry. Instead, I pulled away and ran up the dune beside us. “Let’s find it,” I called.
She was beside me in an instant. “Race you,” she said and darted away. By the time I joined her at the remains of her sand cave, I’d had time to collect myself. She was digging through the sand, pulling out objects from where they’d been buried when the shelter collapsed. I watched until she sat back on her heels, holding the small bell. “I made this to commemorate my papa’s ship. It’s what got me into metalwork. I’m so stu—” She cast me a sideways glance, and I gave her a meaningful look. “I mean, I forgot about it since the storm, but I’d have been upset when I realized I’d lost it.”
I knelt beside her, putting my arms around her neck. “I’m proud of you for not saying something bad about yourself. Because you know what that proves?” She shook her head. “Only smart people can do what it takes to break a bad habit. And don’t you forget it.”
“It’s easier since I have you around to remind me.”
She couldn’t have known what a stake through my heart that was. I had to do something to get my mind off leaving. Tightening my grip, I kissed her fiercely. “Have you ever gotten naked and made love out here on the beach?”
She grinned, brushing at my hair. “No. And there’s one good reason why.” When I cocked my head, she said, “Sand. It gets in the worst places.”
“Is this the voice of experience again?”
“Experience, yes, but not that kind. From, you know, playing as a kid.”
“Uh-huh. Well, the advantage of being with an older woman is that we’re more resourceful when it comes to these things.” I stood up, pulling off my shirt and stripping off my shorts and underwear. Ignoring her stare as I pushed her onto her back, I knelt, positioning myself above her face. “Is this okay?”
She swallowed and brushed at her mouth. “Uh, yeah.”
I slowly settled onto lips, groaning when I felt her tongue slip into me. “Beck,” I whispered. “You’re the one who’s beautiful.”
Her hands slid onto my hips, and I whimpered as she pulled me more firmly against her. Oh God, this was going to be over much too quickly. As if reading my mind, Beck slowed her movements, molding her hands to my breasts. She fondled me through my T-shirt, lightly squeezing my nipples as they hardened under her fingers. I wanted that mouth on my breasts, on my body, and wished we were in bed so I could have her inside me. At the next surge of bliss, I lost any rational thought, only wanting that warm wetness against mine, wanting it to never to end almost as badly as I wanted to come. “Suck me,” I begged, settling the matter as I pushed against her. She ran her hands up my thighs and around to my ass. I rocked against her, crying out as waves of pleasure crashed inside. Once my breathing had slowed, I realized my predicament. I didn’t have the strength to stand. Well, fuck the sand, I decided, rolling off Beck and onto my side.
“Oh, Emily,” Beck said with alarm. “I was going to pick you up.”
“No need.” I grimaced, trying in vain to rid myself of the scratchy granules on my skin before I dressed. As we walked toward the house holding hands, I said, “I don’t know why I sometimes fail to trust you on matters of beach life.”
“That’s okay,” Beck said, “as long as I can trust you on matters not related to beach life.”
Tell her. Tell her now. I swallowed. “Beck, I—”
“Hey, you know what?” She interrupted, pointing at a box-like structure under the stairs. “We should fix that outdoor shower. I’ve been thinking about it since the storm. Most houses along here have one. It keeps things cleaner inside if you avoid tracking in the first layer, at least. And I bet you could use it right now.” She grinned. “What do you think?”
“I don’t—”
“Yeah, I don’t think it would take much work, either. Possibly the diverter and maybe some washers. A few pipe pieces at most. I’ll see if Mr. Guest would pay for it. Or at least half.”
“Beck!” I said, much more sharply than I’d intended. At her shocked expression, I brushed at my skin again. “Could we please stop talking about showers of the future and let me get one now?”
She covered her mouth with her hands, but I could see her eyes were teasing. “I’m sorry, Emily. I didn’t think older women like you ever run out of resources for dealing with common beach sand.” I huffed and started up the stairs. “Hey,” she called after me. “Would you like me to wash your back?”
“I really want to wash my…my front, thank you.”
Her laughter followed me into the house, and I wasn’t at all surprised when my shower door opened a minute later. Beck stepped in behind me, soaped her hands and ran them over my butt. “You know I’ve never once thought of you as older,” she whispered in my ear, touching me in that tender, loving way she had. “I just think of you as my wonderful, amazing Emily.”
I wanted to scream my frustration at the change in plans, and tell her to never touch me again because it changed the way everything else in my life felt. I needed to find the anger that had been part of my emotional life for so long and unleash it on her again. I was certain I could find the words—I could feel them forming in my mouth—words that would hurt her enough to make her go, find a place to lick her wounds, leaving me to sneak away like the horrible person that I was. I was certain that for me to survive this, she would have to hate me. But when I felt her small breasts hardening against me, and her lips on my neck, all the horrible reality that was waiting for me washed away, and I melted into her. It’s okay. I’d allowed myself this last night, hadn’t I?
I turned, and pressed myself into her, holding her face in my hands. “I want to take you to bed.”
Her eyes went a bit hazy. “Did you want dinner first?”
“I want you. First, last, and—” Oh God, I’d almost said “always.” I coughed to cover my faltering. “First, last, and right now.”
She’d noticed. I felt her body tighten, and she put down the soap. Barely touching me, she leaned over to rinse her hands and face again. “I’m done. Do you need another minute?”
I’d teased her before about being the fastest showerer on the island, but this wasn’t the time to repeat my witticism. “Yes, thanks.”
A sandwich, chips, and grapes were waiting for me on the bedside table. It had obviously taken longer than I realized to collect myself.
Beck came in from the kitchen and handed me a napkin. I patted the bed next to me, but she shook her head. “Emily,” she said. “I know there’s something bothering you, and I understand you don’t want to talk about it now. But I hope…I hope you’ll be able to tell me soon.”
“Yes.” My mouth was so dry, I couldn’t manage the sandwich. I ate a few grapes. “Soon, I promise.”
I hadn’t made Beck any promises since the time I’d broken two at once. I wished I could break this one as well, but tomorrow would come all too quickly.
* * *
All night, my mind played out multiple scenarios and wrote script after script featuring tomorrow’s conversations. I’d seen the gray sky of morning before falling into a hard sleep, to the point I didn’t even feel Beck stir, although I missed her warmth immediately. I groaned, and she settled beside me, kissing my forehead. “I think you should stay in bed for a while longer this morning. You had a rough night.”
“Will you stay with me?” I pleaded.
She yawned. “I can’t, baby. I have to go to work.”
“No.” I clung to her, my own voice sounding unfamiliar. Since when had I turned into such a needy infant? Since you fell for Beck, and now you’re leaving her. Unable to ignore that explanation, I countered my own mental reply. Fell for her? Ridiculous. I didn’t fall. No, I thought she was too kind and sweet for her own good. For example, who else but Beck would tell me to stay in bed when it was obvious that my tossing and turning had given her a rough night too? Ridiculous.
Sometime later, I smelled coffee and tried to remember when she’d left the bed. Left? “Beck!”
There was no answer. I ran to the window, ignoring the fact I was naked, and looked out. No scooter. My God, had I slept through the one morning when I really needed to say good-bye? And not just the “have a great day” good-bye, but a “have a nice life” good-bye? “Fuck me!”
Fuck you indeed.
* * *
A bad day was made worse when Melanie Daniels drove up in a small sedan about an hour later.
“How did you get here so soon?” I demanded when she burst through the door.
Her lips curved into that cocky smirk, and she strode across the room, pulling me into a tight hug and rocking us both until I thought I was going to be sick. “Good to see you too, Em.” I managed to lean back enough to give her a look, but it didn’t help. “Goddamn, girl, you look great.” She pulled at the front of the oversized T-shirt of Beck’s I was wearing, trying to look down it. “You’ve got a tan.”
I slapped at her hand and stepped away. “Seriously, Mel, I’m not in the mood.”
She bussed my cheek. “Aw, Em. Was your baby butch sad about your departure?” I ignored her and turned away. She followed me into the kitchen where I began making more coffee. “I flew into Norfolk last night and drove here this morning. We can go home the same way, and I’ll return this piece of shit rental.” She gestured at the car parked outside. “Then we can drive the rest of the way together in your car. Sweet, huh?”
At the moment, I couldn’t think of anything worse. I took a breath, reminding myself about the film deal, and that the timing wasn’t Mel’s fault. Mel was my friend, though she was annoying as hell sometimes. And I’d have to figure out a way to get rid of her for an hour or so when Beck came home because the tension between the two of them would make it impossible to have a reasonable conversation. I was pouring coffee when I realized she had gone into my bedroom.
“You haven’t done shit in here,” she called and poked her head out the door. “Your stuff is still all over the place, Emily. What the hell did you do all day yesterday?”
“Did you want some coffee?” I asked calmly, ignoring her question.
“I guess I better,” Mel grumbled, joining me again. “Since we’ll obviously be working all day.” She took the cup I held out to her and sipped absently. “Seriously, Em, I wanted to get going ahead of the traffic. Do you realize it’s Labor Day weekend?”
I crossed my arms but kept my tone neutral. “First, the date on the calendar is not my fault. You insisted on coming now instead of waiting a few days for the traffic to lessen. Second, griping about it won’t change the situation. Let’s get started and see where we are at lunchtime.”
She was staring at me like I was a stranger. “What is that attitude, the Tao of Spike?”
“Mel?” I said sweetly, and she cocked her head. “I know this upcoming meeting is important, possibly life-changing, and something both of us have been working toward. That’s why I’m giving up the remainder of the most restful and…meaningful…vacation I’ve ever had.” I darkened my tone. “But I swear to God, if you don’t call Beck by her name—and I mean every goddamned time—I’m driving by myself, and you and that POS rental can make your own way home. Alone. Clear?”
“Crystal.”
* * *
By noon, nearly everything was done. My suitcases were by the door, and I’d washed the sheets and towels to get them ready for Beck. When Mel questioned why I was remaking the bed and putting the clean towels out, I told her someone else would be here after I left, and I was making sure the place was decent for them. She, wisely, did not comment. She had started into Beck’s room once, and when I’d told her everything in there stayed, she probably knew exactly who “someone” was. I stepped out on the deck to fix the beautiful setting in my mind as it put on a show for me—soft, warm breeze and cloudless azure sky over the sparkling calm water. At one time, I would have returned to the city eagerly. Now I knew I’d never forget this place or the woman who was embedded in every memory of it.
Mel joined me. “You sure did have a nice view here. And we had fun, right?”
My throat tightened at her use of the past tense, and I only nodded.
“So,” she said after another moment. “What else is left to do?”
“I need to back up my files before I put away the computer. Shouldn’t take long.”
“Would you mind if I took a shower? I didn’t take one this morning, and it would be nice to get rid of the travel.”
“Sure,” I said absently, reminded of my last shower with Beck. “Would you please use a towel from the small bathroom and toss it on the washer when you’re done?”
She squatted beside me. “I’m sorry to ruin the last of your time here. I can see it did you some good. But I’ll do everything in my power to make this deal happen, and it will all be worthwhile.”
That was an unusually sensitive comment for Mel, so I smiled, possibly for the first time since she’d arrived. She gave my shoulder a squeeze and walked toward the small bathroom.
Between the running water and my intense concentration on composing my note for Beck, I didn’t hear her scooter. I was on my fifth draft when she burst through the door, her face glowing with excitement.
“Mr. Guest wants to sell you this house!”
I turned from the desk, mouth agape. Beck was bouncing on her toes, the rest of her body quivering with excitement. She looked jubilant. “He called Mama with a question about two extra months’ rent. Two extra months? And whose car is that, anyway?”
“I was going to tell you about all of that,” I said weakly. In fact, I was going to explain in the note since I hadn’t expected to see her before I left.
“Well, here’s the thing.” I hid my pleasure at her familiar saying as she paced in small circles. “He said he’d consider any reasonable offer. He’s tired of trying to maintain this place from a distance.” She walked over, resting her hands softly on my arms. “I’ll give you half of what I made at my sale, and if I do well enough at PAFA to get a cash prize, there’d be more right away. I’m covering what Mom lost from not getting Erik’s disability any more, but I’ll pay whatever rent I can.”
“Beck…” I needed to cut her off now, because the more she dreamed, the worse the reality nightmare would become. But she wasn’t listening.
“Just think, in a year or so, folks would start calling this the Harris House. I’ll fix the outside shower and get the fireplace working before winter. We can make the back living area your office, and you’ll have better privacy and more room. Like for a bigger desk and more bookshelves and stuff. Whatever you need.”
“Beck, listen—”
She stopped talking abruptly, staring over my shoulder toward the master bedroom, her mouth open as her expression turned grim. Oh God. Mel. I turned, and sure enough, Mel was moving into the room, her hair still damp, and wearing only a towel. She also wore what could be referred to as a “shit-eating grin.” “Hey, Beck,” she said jovially. “How’s it going?”
Beck, speechless, turned away, her gaze searching. “Where’s June?” she finally said.
“They broke up,” I answered quietly. At that, I could see her forming and discarding questions in her mind while Mel, either oblivious to her distress or happily overlooking it, had no such problem directing her next words to me. “Emily, babe, could you spare a T-shirt? I forgot to pack an extra, and I’d like to start home clean.”
“Start home?” Beck’s voice was faint, but the question was clear.
Before I could explain, Mel began speaking in her best imitation of a North Carolina drawl, which wasn’t particularly authentic. “I come to take my girl back to the city. But I guess you knew that.”
Beck didn’t look at me. “No, I didn’t.”
Mel had no such constraints. She pointed at me while she snorted with delight. “You haven’t told her? OMG, that’s harsh, even for you, Emily. What were you going to do, write her a Dear Jane letter?”
Our eyes all turned to the paper in my hand. I quickly crumpled it into a ball and threw it at her. “Shut the fuck up, Mel. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then why don’t you explain? To both of us.”
Beck’s voice was barely restrained anger under an extremely cool tone. I could see her hands were in fists at her side and willed myself not to flinch when she took a step toward me. “Tell me this is all a big misunderstanding. Tell me what’s really going on.” She lowered her voice, but I was sure Mel still heard it. “Tell me you’re not her girl.”
As I’d envisioned this conversation, I’d found myself secretly wishing she would hurt me somehow. I wanted her to be angry enough to shake me hard or even hit me. At least that way, I could claim some moral high ground. But I knew she wouldn’t, just as I knew I’d never had any such ground in that department, and I never would. “I was going to tell you this morning, but I accidently slept in.”
“How long have you known?”
Mel cut in. “We talked yesterday around noon. See, we have this—”
“Excuse me,” Beck said, her voice louder and so firm Mel actually stopped talking. “I wasn’t asking you.”
Very few people got away with speaking to Mel that way, and Beck certainly wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t have this escalate any further. “Mel, why don’t you finish getting ready?”
Beck met Mel’s fierce stare with one of her own, but she said nothing, thank God. After what felt like hours, Mel nodded in my direction. “Okay, Emily. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Finish your business here. We need to get on the road.”
I walked out onto the deck and motioned Beck to follow. The door hadn’t finished closing before she asked, “Is that what I am to you? Business?”
“You can’t possibly believe that.” I tried to sound disappointed rather than upset.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore. Five minutes ago, I could see us living here together, maybe for a long time. Now I think I won’t ever see you again.” She looked directly at me for the first time since Mel had appeared. “Which one is it, Emily?”
“There’s a chance that one or maybe more of my books could be made into a movie. That’s why I’m going back sooner. To meet with some executives from a studio who are flying in from LA. Mel and I have been working on this for a while, but I had no idea it would happen now. I’m sorry, Beck. I never meant—”
“Sure. You never meant to hurt me, like you always say.”
“Yes. Yes, that.”
“But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell me you were going until we’d had one last fuck.” She continued as if I hadn’t spoken, her voice rising. “And you were going to leave me a note? Again?”
“I…I didn’t know where you were.”
“Bullshit. Remember that phone you bought for me? You have my number and my mom’s number. You could always find me when you needed something from me.”
God, that was true. I had simply been my usual, chickenshit self about it. Perhaps she was well on the way to being angry enough to hate me, just as I’d planned. But somehow, that wasn’t what I wanted anymore. “You’re right,” I admitted, and she slumped. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I’ve never known how to tell you how I felt.”
“Tell me now.”
That request sounded more normal. I debated briefly about explaining how our lives weren’t compatible, even though I’d enjoyed my time here, or how I didn’t believe a long-distance relationship would ever work out. All of that sounded weak, even to me. Worse would be to tell her how much she meant to me, and how badly I wanted to stay. Better to just cut it off. “I still can’t. Because now it wouldn’t be fair to either of us. But I paid the extra months’ rent so you can stay on here until after the PAFA decision. I know you’ll win, and afterward, you can find somewhere else to settle if you want. Other than that, let’s leave things as they are.”
Her face hardened. “Well, I’m glad I found out you’re one of those people who thinks money solves everything. A few dollars to ease your conscience, and it’s okay to run out. Fine.” She pulled the cell from a pocket of her shorts. “Should I leave this to pay off my conscience?”
“No, Beck. That was a gift. It’s yours to do with as you want.”
She stared at the object in her hand as if it was her mortal enemy. Then she took three quick steps and heaved the phone over the railing, out toward the ocean. We both watched it land nearly halfway to the water. She continued to stare at the waves as if willing them to come and claim it. “That’s what I want. For all of it to go away. Everything I ever thought or felt about you.”