Forget Me (Hampton Harbor) (13 page)

"Thank you for having me for dinner tonight, Mrs.
..
Anna," I say, trying to remember my manners.

"It was our pleasure," Anna says. "It's nice to see
Will so happy, and with someone we can all enjoy. I know I'm speaking boldly,
but tonight's dinner felt as though everything was in place. Like you were
supposed to be here all along."

I finish putting the wrapped up pizza in the fridge and turn to
face her, ignoring the knot my stomach is trying to tie.

"I felt that way too," I tell her.

I can tell she wants to ask me more questions, but Will sweeps
into the room and steals my attention.  His dad follows behind him, a tight-lipped
smile on his face.

"Mr. Young just called. Apparently he isn't happy with the
way his boat was serviced this afternoon. I'm going to head down to the dock
and see if his complaints have any claim."

Will's mom rolls her eyes. "Another day, another complaint
from Mr. Young."

Jim gives her a kiss on the head and leaves. Anna goes right
back to scrubbing her already immaculate kitchen. Will takes my hand and pulls
me from the room wordlessly. I follow him down a set of stairs and we step into
a rec room. There is a kitchenette and bar in one corner, and
a pool table and ping-pong table take
up the middle of the
room. The fireplace from above extends down here, and there is a TV hung above
this one as well. We move across the room and through the double doors to the
back deck, stepping back into the warm, night air.

"Alone at last," Will says as he raises an eyebrow.

The line is meant to be comical, and I laugh. The sun has started
to dip on the western horizon, and the sky is already starting to turn a shade
of red mixed with purple. Soon the fireworks will start and the sky will light
up with a multitude of colors. We walk down the wooded dock, and leave our
shoes at the top of the steps. The breeze is stronger when we set our feet on
the sand, and I struggle to keep my hair under control.

"So, what do you think?" Will asks me, and I know that
he is asking about his family.

"I think they're great, and I can see why you turned out so
perfect."

One corner of Will's mouth pulls up in a grin. "You think I'm
perfect?"

"Don't let it go to your head. A big ego knocks you down a
few points," I say.

"I'm glad you came, Jane," he turns me to face him and
our eyes meet. In the light his eyes appear almost gray, and they are looking
at me with an emotion I'm not sure I understand. "It felt right, having
you with my family."

"I agree," I respond. "I only wish..."

He brings a hand up to my chin and puts a finger over my mouth.
"Don't," he says. "Don't ruin it."

I wish I could ignore our reality the way he is right now. He runs
his thumb over my bottom lip and his touch reverberates down to my bones. I
never take my eyes off
his,
expecting the moment to
feel awkward but all it does is raise my desire. He brings his mouth down to
meet mine, and my lips part. I taste the sea breeze on his mouth, and a tinge
of peppermint on his tongue. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him
closer. His hands travel to my waist, grazing the cotton fabric. I suddenly
wish I had worn a skirt and a nice shirt, so that I could feel his warm hands across
my stomach. He brings one hand up my back and runs the other up my arm. I
shiver under his touch.

He pulls back and looks up toward his parents’ house, which is a lit
up brightly. I can see his mother wiping the table on the deck, and I realize
that she most likely saw our embrace.

Will leans toward me, his lips brushing my ear. "Come with
me."

He uses his head to nod toward an outcropping of rocks on the
beach. It separates the house from the marina, and juts out at odd angles. Some
of the formations are tall and I can see small sand paths leading in and out of
them, creating perfect hiding places for young kids. Or adults looking for
privacy. I smile and nod, pushing him forward a little so that I can jump onto
his back. He falters for a moment, not expecting my sudden weight.

I look back at the house, and his mom has disappeared for the
moment. "You better hurry," I say into his ear.

He throws back his head in a laugh and jogs through the sand with
me bouncing on his back. He rounds the first outcropping of rocks and enters
into a small, horseshoe shaped section of sand. You can't see the house or the
docks from here, just the rocks, the sea, and the sky. I slide off Will's back
and look around.

"Convenient," I say with an eyebrow raise.

"A lot of shenanigans have happened back here," he says
as he looks at me.

"Oh really?" I tease and he grabs my waist to pull my
closer.

"All that matters right now is you." Will's eyes are
hooded as he looks down at me, and I stand up on my toes, planting a gentle
kiss on his mouth. He deepens the embrace, using his hand to pull my head
closer to his.

"This place can't be safe at high tide," I say once he
pulls away.

"There is a small path in the back that leads back onto the beach,
but yes, it can be dangerous at high tide. My parents didn't let us come back
here as kids, and I don't think they realized just how much we came back here
as teenagers," he says with a grin. "But I think we’re safe
now."

He looks out at the water. “I’m not sure if we’ll be able to see
the fireworks from here, though.”

I bite my lip. “I don’t mind.”

He pulls me toward him again, and this time falls back onto the
sand, bringing me down with him. He is sitting with his legs out in front of
him and I am curled in his lap, for once having the advantage of my head being
higher than his.

I’m not sure what instinct fuels me, probably one that I have
experience with in my lost memories, but I'm twisting and turning in his lap until
I am facing him completely. My legs are on either side of his and our bodies
are completely flush from our thighs up. The effect sends a wave of pleasure
through my body. I press my forehead to Will's and close my eyes. We are both
breathing hard, even though we are really just sitting in the sand. His hands
find my bare thighs and he slowly drags them higher, bringing the hem of my
dress with them.

I bring my lips back to his and feel, more than hear, a low moan
emit from his throat. I’m not sure, but I think I do the same. It doesn't even
matter. My fingers thread into his hair and I try to get closer to him, an impossible
feat. His hands grip the backs of my thighs tightly and continue to pull the
fabric up. I feel it slide over my backside and his hands travel up and over my
underwear. They find their way to the dimples on my lower back. Our mouths move
as one, quickly and then slowly again, frantically and then with less need. Will
grips my back and flips me to the side, lowering me gently to the sand. He
hovers above me on his forearms, his breath ragged.

"Jane." His voice is low and throaty.

I look up and meet his gaze, and I know that I’m wearing a similar
look. A line is about to be crossed here, and that line is as jagged and
dangerous as the rocks on either side of us. I want Will to cover my body with
his just as much as I want him to stand and walk away. I don't know what to
say, and instead just close my eyes, feeling embarrassment as a tear escapes
down one cheek.

I feel Will shift above me and soon his body is beside mine,
rather than over it, and he pulls me close. I bury my face into the warm crook
of his neck. I breathe him in and throw my arm over his side, clinging to his
shirt. I can hear his heart beating against my ear, louder than the sounds of
the waves hitting the rocks or the seagulls giving their last caws as the first
star appears in the sky. Neither of us
speak
, for
words cannot heal this moment, nor can they ruin it. Will holds me tight until
the seagulls are gone, the sun is to sleep, and the fireworks begin to burst in
the distance.

It’s Monday and I’m sitting at a booth in the cafe, nibbling on a
club sandwich. I am working a double today, and we are the slowest we've been
since I started over a month ago. I don't blame people for avoiding the outside
today. Angry gray clouds hang in the sky and rain pelts the windows in a
furious pace. The edges of the awning flap violently against the window, and I
think of the boats at the dock, the rough water rocking them back and
forth. 

Will stopped in for breakfast this morning to tell me that he
would be at the docks until the heavy part of the storm passed. They needed to
monitor the boats and make sure none broke free of their ropes. Not that there
is much they could do if it did happen, but it is part of his job to watch
these things. We both had busy weekends at work, and only had time for clipped
conversations since Friday night. That evening loomed over us, and I knew that
Will struggled with how to deal with it, just like I do. When he drove me home
later that night, I assured him that I was fine.

"I shouldn't have
pushed you that far,"
he told me.

"You didn't
push
 me,"
I responded,
the frustration in my voice clear.
"I
didn't want to complicate things further. I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you
."

He remained silent after that, and walked me to the door, kissing
my cheek gently before hurrying back to his SUV. I was sure that he finally
realized that same thing I had been thinking all this time. In the end, I would
hurt him. I managed to have the best and worst night of my time in Hampton
Harbor.

Now, as I sit in the booth, I try to picture him out on the docks,
braving the wind and the whipping rain to check on the boats. I told him that I
might stop by on my break, but I'm still in the cafe, picking at my food and
sipping my water. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Katie, our lead hostess,
drops a copper coin on the table and slides into the seat across from me. She
is headed into her sophomore year of college, working over the summer to raise
her spending money. She has chin length blond hair and startling green eyes,
and I envy the self-confidence that she emanates.

I take another small bite of my sandwich. "I think my mood
just reflects this crappy weather." I point out the window to further
prove my point.

Katie looks out the window and then
back
at me. "At least we know the sunshine is just behind the clouds."

I fight the urge to reach across the table and throttle her. While
I admire her self-confidence, I do not admire her continuous
"glass-half-full" attitude. Right now I want to be in a bad mood.
Right now I want to let it consume me until I'm as gray as the sky outside.
Katie watches me for one full, uncomfortable minute before grabbing her penny
and sliding out of the booth. Shelley finds me next, her mood mirroring mine.

"I don't think today is going to get any better. Get out of
here," she grumbles before returning to the office.

She has to work extra hours with Charles and Marie gone, and even
though I know she enjoys her job, she doesn't seem overly happy about the extra
work. I count my measly tips and turn in my apron, pausing briefly by the back
door as I decide where to go. I end up running across the street to the
convenience store first, purchasing a small black umbrella.

I walk down one side of the street, deciding it’s a perfect day to
explore a few more of the shops. I enter a small clothing boutique first and
browse the racks. I try to picture myself before the accident, sifting through
clothes and picking up different pairs of shoes. I don't feel any familiarity
or sense of remembrance as I walk through the store, and neither of the sales
associates show recognition when I approach them. I leave empty handed and walk
a little further down the street, stopping in front of a Hampton Harbor tourist
shop. Shirts, sweatshirts, and hats are displayed proudly in the windows, as
well as mugs, magnets, shot glasses, and pens. I step inside and start to
browse down the aisles, feeling a better sense of belonging in this store. I
run my fingers over a snow globe, one with a ceramic beach scene displayed with
in the glass. It is overly ironic, and I pick the globe up.

An image flashes to my mind, and at first I think it is déjà vu.
Then I realize that I've held this snow globe before. I've admired it in the
same way. A sales lady approaches me with a smile on her face.

"You know, you had that same look on your face the last time
you were in here. You stared at that snow globe for the longest time." She
stops beside
me and points
at the snow globe in my
hands.