Dust to Dust: A Broken Fairy Tale (8 page)

Holden wastes no time in bringing up the topic of what happened with Marcus tonight. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on with you and Marcus. But I hope you do one day. Just like I hope one day you are going to tell me what really happened to you before you left for college. I’m here for you, Cam. You can count on me. I won’t go away again.” Holden takes my hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’ll always be my best friend.” It is the first time we’ve spoken about anything personal since he came back. I know he knows how hurt I was when he cut me out of his life after the night we spent together after his parents’ funeral, and he’s spent the past six months trying to make it up to me.
Four points, Holden.

I can’t help but feel comforted by his words. I look over to see the sincerity in his eyes and get choked up at the memories of our past. I smile weakly. “I know,” is all I could say.

He pulls me over to his chair, sitting me between his legs, wrapping his muscular arms tightly around me. It is an incredibly safe and comforting feeling. In some situations it may have felt a bit too intimate, but right now it is perfect. I lean my head back onto his broad chest and close my eyes. I can feel his deep breaths on the top of my head as we relaxed by the lagoon, listening to the music. It is the most peaceful I have felt in months. I don’t need to pretend, I don’t need to explain, I can just be me. Holden lightly traces circles along my arms while he softly sings along to the song, lulling me to sleep and away from this nightmare of a day.

O
ctober 26, 2012

“Dad, Holden and I are all done boarding up the windows and doors at the restaurant. We’re going to head down to the basement and double-check that everything is sealed.”

Hurricane Sandy is scheduled to hit in a few days, and all of the residents of Mantoloking, Bay Head, Point Pleasant, and the surrounding shore towns are ordered to evacuate, although I have a feeling there will be a few who stay behind. There have been many evacuations because of an impending hurricane before, but none with the level of concern that this one has instilled in everyone. It is said to possibly be downgraded to a tropical storm by the time it touches land, but the water levels are what has everyone in a panic, my parents included. Cutter Lane, our family restaurant, has made it through all the storms in the past, and I hope it will make it through this one too. Cutter Lane is the heart of our town and my family; I can’t imagine life without it. My dad wants to make sure that we take every step possible to secure the restaurant from flooding, although I doubt wood over some windows and doors is going to do much to stop the Atlantic from barreling through.

Marcus has the girls today and they are busy securing our apartment in the city, while I’m down here to help secure the restaurant and my parents’ home. We’ve agreed that he will keep the girls in the city while I stay with my parents during the storm. If the damage is as bad as expected, then traveling back to the city might be difficult, and Ellie has school to get to once the weather clears. Our apartment in the city is a much safer place for them than the shore and I have no doubt that Marcus will keep them safe. I also recently scored a freelance writing job for the
New Yorker
magazine again and they are interested in getting my firsthand account of the storm from the shore, so I decided to ride it out with all of the reporters at a hotel in Point Pleasant. I am sure there will be a ton of reporters crammed together, but I can’t wait for the experience. Maybe I’ll even get to meet Al Roker!

I am ecstatic to be writing again. After Marcus dumped my ass on the Fourth of July, I contacted my old boss, trying to gain my independence back. It is as if all the stars were aligned for me, because when she asked me to send in an article as part of my job interview, the topic she gave me was dealing with a deteriorating marriage…needless to say, I didn’t need to do much research, and nailed it. Since then, I have done some small editorial articles about fashion and politics for the magazine, but this is the first hard news story I am going to be heading up on my own. I want to be at the center of it all to give a heartfelt, detailed account of the storm.

Holden is also down at the shore this weekend to secure his house and help my family get the restaurant secured, like many of us are. Jess is taking Charlotte to her cousin’s place in Cherry Hill since Dave has to stay in town for emergencies. I was relieved when I was able to talk Dave into letting me be with him during the storm to get all of the most current and accurate information about the storm for my article. All of the hotels in the surrounding area are packed solid with media, but with Dave, we will have virtually free rein to survey any part of town he goes to, and being locals, I know I’m going to get access most other reporters won’t have. Holden, of course, insists on joining me for this adventure. He is never one to miss out on excitement and a little danger, and I’m sure just the thought of being in the middle of it all is something that gets his fire burning. I can’t help but think a part of him also wants to be there to make sure I’m safe. He has been fiercely protective of me since that horrible night on the 4
th
of July, so I can’t say I’d be surprised.

Holden spent most of the summer down at the shore with me and the girls, only leaving to go to the city to do business. It is nice to be back together again. I’ve always felt a sense of peace around him, growing up. Being with him is always just easy; nothing is ever forced. Holden and I have gotten to a place of friendship that I never thought would have been possible again. Yes, I think he’s hot. And yes, there is an attraction there. But being friends feels better than anything else can for me right now. The comfort of knowing he will always be my friend is far more attractive to me right now than the comfort his touch would bring me.

One thing that worries me at times is that Holden has not been spending as much time with Bridgette as he did when he first returned. Bridgette’s visits were less frequent as the summer drew on, and are now virtually nonexistent. I keep telling Holden he needs to go back into the city, especially during the week, but he always just laughs it off and simply says he is where he wants to be. Having Holden and Jess at my side these past three months has helped me to realize that I’m really not alone in all of this, and that if Marcus really does decide to leave me, they will be here for me. That is incredibly comforting to me.

I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. While I have been trying desperately to hold my marriage together and woo Marcus back, Holden has been nothing but a friend to me. He never acts like anything but the friend I know and love since we were kids. He knows keeping me busy is the best thing to keep me from dwelling on the demise of my relationship with Marcus and seems to make it his life’s mission to fill my days and nights. When I’m down to the shore, we always go on morning runs together, and have coffee most nights under the stars, chatting about work and the girls…about life. And while Holden is always still his usual sexy self with smoldering eyes, I want nothing more than to have him as my friend again and either does he. Now, of course, I always make sure my teeth are brushed and am sure to put make-up on every morning before leaving the security of my bedroom, knowing Holden could show up on the deck at any moment. But that has nothing to do with romantic feelings for him. I also may have bought a new wardrobe of running clothes, thinking that my shabby college T-shirts and boxers weren’t the most flattering. There was nothing wrong with hoping he will at least find me as attractive as I find him. It is purely platonic, though, and that is the way I want it. Innocent flirting is what we are best at anyway. I know we are both happy to be back together again, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that. Anything romantic between us will definitely do that.

Marcus is still carrying on an affair and hasn’t made any moves to stop the divorce proceedings, but he’s begun spending more time with the girls again when we moved back into the city once school began. Marcus moved out of our apartment and into a hotel, although I have my suspicions he spends most of his time with the slut he is cheating on me with. As time has gone on, I’ve realized Marcus has no plans of taking me back and I need to move on, and start letting go. I am getting used to the idea of a girl-only household, and am even starting to enjoy it. But while things are getting easier for me, my greatest fear is that Sophie and Ellie will be hurt in all of this. I’ve seen what divorce can do to kids, but so far, they’ve stayed the same happy-go-lucky girls they’ve always been. Marcus and I are both in agreement that however we feel about each other, we will never share those feelings with the girls and put them in the middle. So far, so good.

“Hey Camryn. What are all of the boxes for? I thought your dad moved everything to storage already?” Holden yells up the steps to me.

By the time I make it down to the basement so I don’t have to yell back, Holden is standing there holding something in his hand with a giant grin on his face. “What is it?”

He looks up at me and turns the frame around, showing me a picture of the two of us snuggling up on our favorite bench at the side of my parents’ house. Upon closer look, I can see that I had drawn devil ears on the picture.
Oh snap, he found my break-up box. What is it doing down here?!

“I like what you did with this picture. Are there more like this one in there?” Holden asks with a devilish grin across his face.

I scan the room, looking for the box that I know is filled with more embarrassing artifacts that I’d rather he not see. I spot the worn brown box right behind him and silently plan out my attempt to hide the box from him. I try to play it cool and shrug my shoulders like I don’t care and try to lunge past him to the box. I have no idea why I even thought I’d be able to get it away from Holden, but I have to try. Holden will never let me live it down if he sees all of the letters and pictures I kept...and possibly defaced. As predicted, Holden beats me to it, swiping the box up in his hands, using his body to block me from its grasp, laughing hysterically as I try in vain to get it back.

“Come on, Holden. Give it to me. I don’t know how it got down here, and I’m not even sure what’s in there anymore.” I helplessly try to reach around him and grab the box as he playfully dodges my grasps.

Holden places the box on a table in the corner of the room and blocks me out, while he begins rummaging through its contents.
Please let the hurricane hit early and end this torture.

“Let’s see here. More pictures of me made into the devil.” He tosses the pictures aside. “Oh, this is a good one. You actually cut my head out of this picture.” Holden’s face grows more serious as he looks through defaced pictures and love letters with profanity scrawled across the heartfelt words. It’s almost as if seeing all of this his hurtful to him, and no longer funny. My love and heartache for him is all on display in this little box.

Rather than feel embarrassed, I just feel bad to have acted so immaturely. “Come on, Holden, cut me some slack. I was just a kid when I did that.”

“Yeah, a pissed-off one at that.” He stops teasing me and hands me the box with a sad look in his eyes. “Sorry I made you hate me so much. I was young and stupid back then.” He slaps my butt and sits down on the steps behind me, running his hand through his hair with a wicked grin. “Good thing I’m older, smarter, and still devastatingly handsome now, huh?”

He surprises me by grabbing my waist and pulling me down on his lap, snuggling his head into the crook of my neck.

“Cut it out, Holden. You’re still an ass,” I say, slapping him on the top of my head. Before he can react, I jump over him and begin running up the steps.

Holden comes barreling after me and tackles me at the top of the steps onto the landing. I’m shocked that he has the nerve to take me out like that. He is careful to pad my fall, but all the same, we’re not kids anymore. I roll over, smacking him off me when Holden begins tickling me and making fun of my break-up box. His eyes meet mine and they change from playful to something more, instantly. His hooded eyes stare into mine, saying so much more than his words could have. There is pain there, and possibly regret. I close my eyes, not sure what to do or say. Our breathing is heavy and he presses his forehead gently against mine. I hold my breath, afraid of what he is going to do next. I don’t want to ruin what we have spent almost a year rebuilding—a trusting, platonic friendship.

“Hey you two. Stop playing around and get up here and say hello to our visitor who came to help save Mantoloking.” My dad is clearly not concerned with our precarious position on the floor. I instantly begin blushing, imagining what we must look like lying here like this.

Holden gets up, smiling cheekily at me and helping me to my feet. “And who do we have the pleasure of seeing today, Mr. D?”

Holden doesn’t let go of my hand; instead, he gently rubs his finger along my palm, making my heart flutter. I lean into Holden and jab my elbow into his side, trying to let him know the flirting is going too far. He only laughs and pulls me securely under his arm. I can’t help but smile and find comfort in his embrace as we make our way over to my dad.

My happiness is instantly sucked out of me when we walk around the bar to see the visitor my dad is talking to. You know that feeling of complete terror you get when you know something very bad is about to happen? Well, that is how I’m feeling right now, times a thousand. I feel all of the blood leave my face and my stomach drops out of me. Everything in the room begins to spin, and I actually feel like I am going to faint. My heart is racing and I can feel sweat starting to pool on my forehead. Jake Waters is standing in the doorway of the restaurant, chatting with my dad as if there is nothing wrong with him being here. As if he isn’t the one person I fear more than anyone in the world.
Not now.

“Hey man! What’s it been—fifteen, sixteen years? How the hell are you, Jake?” Holden is patting Jake on his back, completely oblivious of my visceral reaction to facing evil. All I can do is stand there and stare; my body is paralyzed with fear.