Love and Relativity (16 page)

“Where do you
come
from?” I asked with a raspy voice, taking a swig of my coffee.

“Uh...I thought I told you, I’m from Seattle.”

“No, I mean...what in the world possessed you to take me home last week from Pete’s? If I’d have seen some stranger in a bar parking lot having an emotional breakdown, offering to drive them home wouldn’t have been my first course of action.”

He laughed lightly and dropped a few pieces of bacon onto a plate, then came to join me at the table. “Ah, well it was either that or let Jackson drive you home, and I was a little worried. You looked like you were about to pummel him with your high heel. I didn’t want you to go all serial killer on him and bury him in the woods or something. Death by high heel isn’t the best way to go.”

For the first time all week—apart from my drunken shenanigans with the line dancing cowboys the night before—I let a small smile twist my lips. “Well, I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on a stranger like this.” The smile faded. “So...Jackson’s been showing you around town with the guys, huh?”

Carter adjusted his glasses and rubbed his jaw, hesitating before he spoke. “Yeah, when I came to town, I wandered into Pete’s looking for some work and a beer. We ended up playing a game of pool, and he offered to try and get me some work down at the marina. I know a little bit about boats, coming from the West Coast and all.”

“What brought you all the way to Sanibel? Seems like the last place you’d want to be if you want work as a musician. And what a huge change from the Pacific Northwest.”

He snorted, taking a bite of bacon. “I know, crazy, right? It was just kind of a spur of the moment thing. I needed to get away, so I packed up and hit the road. I thought of the farthest place I could go without leaving the U.S., and this was one of them. Plus I’d seen it on the Travel Channel. Figured I could use a tan.” The tone of his voice changed and his eyes dropped to his plate, telling me that was all the information he was willing to share. “So far, it’s not bad, but I’m not sure if I’ll stay yet.”

“Oh? Too much culture shock for ya?”

“It just depends on how things pan out over the winter. We’ll see.” He shrugged and his eyes snapped to the front door as it opened. “Things are looking up, though.”

Whitney appeared with a shopping bag in hand, her eyes landing on Carter. Her cheeks turned red and Carter stood and cleared his throat before moving back to the stove, busying himself with leftovers.
What was that all about?

“Hey, Whit,” I said. “Go ahead, let’s hear it.”

She set a bottle of aspirin down on the table and poured herself a glass of orange juice. “Oh, I’m done mothering you.” She let out a long sigh. “I gave up when you chewed Miss Stein out the other night. Right now, I’m just your friend. You wanna go get trashed and dance with cowboys? Fine. Don’t let me stand in your way. I’m exhausted and I don’t give a rat’s ass at this point what trouble you get yourself into, as long as I get you into bed safely at night.” She slumped into the chair next to me. She had bags under her eyes, and her maid uniform was wrinkled and smelly.

A pang of guilt hit me for causing my best friend in the world so much worry. “Well, consider this your last babysitting session.” I stood and lifted my plate from the table. “As soon as I nurse this hangover, I’m getting my shit together. Promise. I already missed two days of work this week. If I don’t go back Monday, I lose my job.”

Whitney’s voice lightened up. “Everyone’s entitled to a few days of insanity, Em. You needed to grieve. It’s been a long time coming. You never know when shit like that is going to blow up. You can’t force closure; it just comes to you when you’re ready for it.”

I walked to the sink, and Carter snatched the plate from my hand before I had the chance to wash it myself. “You’re right,” I said, handing him the sponge. “I guess I’m ready to start picking up the pieces.”

“Glad to hear it, girl.”

I let Carter take over and made my way around the counter toward my bedroom. “Gonna shower,” I said, disappearing behind my bedroom door.

When I returned from a much needed hot shower, Carter and Whitney’s whispers stopped me midstride in the hallway. Unable to keep myself from eavesdropping on their conversation, I stepped back to keep myself out of view.

“I think we’re better off telling her,” Carter said. “He’s in bad shape, and she’s what he needs.”

“It’s still too soon. He hurt her. I don’t want her going over there yet.”

“How are they going to repair things if she doesn’t speak to him?”

“I don’t know, Carter. Guess he should have thought about that before he screwed Casey, huh?”

“Don’t get defensive. I barely know the guy, I’m not taking anyone’s side. I’m just trying to help.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Whitney’s voice went soft.

“All I’m saying is that he won’t come to her; I’ve been trying to talk him into it all week. He doesn’t want her to see him like this. She has to be the one to go to him.”

“Is he still camping out in that damn sailboat?”

“Yeah. He couldn’t make rent this week and they kicked him out of his apartment.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

“Is everything okay?” I asked, stepping out from hiding. Carter and Whitney jumped, putting a few inches between them. Carter dropped the sponge into the sink and hurried to fish it out, while Whitney nervously tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Yeah,” she squeaked. “Just trying to get this counter clean. Damn, I missed a spot.” She scrubbed at the counter with a washcloth. “But uh...I better get to work. I’ll be home by five, okay Em? I thought we could skip Pete’s tonight and stay home or something. Maybe order some takeout and do a movie night.”

“Okay, sure.”

She grabbed her bag and raced around the kitchen counter to wrap me in a quick hug. “Drink lots of water and take it easy today. Call if you need me!” She wiggled her fingers in the air, giving me a half-hearted wave as she flew out the door.

“Emma, if you think you’ll be alright, I’m gonna take off. I have to get some stuff done around my place today.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll be fine. Thanks for everything, Carter.”

“Don’t mention it.” He tossed the dish towel on the counter, picked up his keys and wallet, and headed for the door. He hesitated. “Ah, hey, I know it’s not my place to say anything, but...I speak from experience. Being in love with your best friend sucks. It’s the worst kind of love on the planet. When they don’t feel the same, there’s this constant void. And you keep trying to fill that void because it gets lonely, but no one ever measures up. Even when you find a few hours of comfort in someone else’s bed, all you can see is their face. I just thought I’d put it out there, that...I understand where Jackson’s coming from. And believe me, if he truly thought there were any chance for you two, he wouldn’t have slept with this Casey chick.”

Emotion swelled thick in my throat, and I nodded, blinking the tears back. “Thank you, Carter. I’ll keep that in mind.”He disappeared and the apartment filled with silence, and my pounding headache reminded me it was time for aspirin. Contemplating what was going on with Jackson only intensified the throbbing pain. Was he physically hurt? Angry? Why did he miss his rent? I knew he’d been having trouble with money, but to wind up homeless in his dad’s sailboat within one week’s time? What exactly defined ‘bad shape’, anyway? My mind started working overtime, and then that familiar ache pulsed in my chest, the one that had taken up residence there since I’d realized just how strong my feelings were for him.

Reaching over the table, I picked up the bottle of aspirin and popped the small, white pill into my mouth, washing it down with a sip of coffee. My gaze focused across the room on my seashell keepsake box, the one I kept on the living room bookshelf. It housed my favorite picture of Jen, and her old bottle of Chanel perfume. Rising to my feet, I drifted over to it, eyes fixed on it as if it were a long-lost key to a secret realm, one that held wisdom and the answer to my soul’s desires, right there, only a fingertip’s length beyond my reach.

I popped the lid and found the newspaper clipping Jackson had given me in Orlando, still folded and wrinkled from its journey. I folded it carefully between my fingers and turned to grab my keys from the table.

It was time to put the pieces back together.

***

The late morning sun beat down on my face when I approached the marina. I adjusted my sunglasses and strolled determinedly down the walkway, looking for signs of a beat-up, neglected-looking sailboat. The way Jackson had described his dad’s boat, I expected to find an old hunk of junk. But all of these boats were flawless, with pristine exteriors, each one clean and well kept.

I stopped the first person I laid eyes on, flipping my shades up to look him in the eye. “Excuse me, do you know if there’s a Jackson Taylor around here?”

“Taylor? Yup. Third down on the right, just keep walking. It’s the one with the name Sara written in blue.” The man looked at me curiously for a moment, then ambled on, disappearing down the dock.

Scanning the boats as I walked, I stopped when I saw the name Sara, written in a dark navy shade of blue. My gaze didn’t settle there for long. There was Jackson near the boat’s bow, tan, shirtless, and dripping wet in swim trunks, bent over and digging through a pile of fishing gear. I pressed my lips tight together to keep from gawking, pulling my shades back down over my nose. I managed to take a few steps further, treating myself to a closer look. Sweat beaded up over his tattoo, glistening over the ankh’s black ink in small droplets. He was in bad need of a shave, and his hands were dirty, as if he’d been working under the hood of a car all morning. I vaguely noted that the sailboat was far from beat up; it had a fresh paint job and looked good as new.

Inching forward, my voice came out quiet, strained. “Hey, Jack.”

His head shifted in my direction, and when his eyes fixed on mine, he froze. Slowly straightening the curve in his back, he stood and brought a hand to his head, shoving his fingers through his wet hair. “Em.”

“Your mom?” I asked, pointing to the name on the side of the boat.

He searched for whatever I was pointing at, his gaze distracted. “Oh, yeah.” He looked away, his fists balling up at his sides. “Did that Carter guy put you up to this?”

“What? No. No, I overheard he and Whitney talking. They don’t know I’m here. I came on my own.” I fingered a loose strand of hair behind my ear, the awkwardness between us unbearable. “Look, can I...”

“You wanna come aboard?”

“Please.”

He helped me up onto the boat, lifting me at the waist a little, and set me on my feet in front of him. I was never so thankful for the tint in my sunglasses.

“Here, come inside. I need to clean up.” He led me into the cabin, and I finally removed my shades, taking in the cozy space inside. Dark, rich wood accented the bright white and baby blue upholstery, a tiny stove and sink built into the left side of a cozy breakfast nook. His feet crunched over piles of trash bags, the small floor space cluttered with beer bottles, receipts, and heaps of dirty clothes. Everything he owned was in this boat. “Have a seat if you want. Do you want some water or something?”

“No, thanks.” I sat on the edge of the couch cushion, wondering how a mess of this size had accumulated over the short course of one week.

Jackson leaned over the sink to brush his teeth, then grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed the dirt from his hands and forearms. When he was done, he dropped to the sofa across from me and sprawled out, relaxing his arms across the back, legs planted wide apart. His chin was dropped slightly, tilted to the side. “Go ahead, I know you want to ask.”

“I didn’t come here to pry. I’m sorry to hear about your apartment.”

He shrugged. “Ah, don’t worry about it. The rent story was bullshit.”

My eyes widened a fraction. “Oh?” I glanced around at the trash bags surrounding our feet. “You weren’t kicked out?”

“Nah, I moved out a few weeks ago to start saving my money. This is small, but I can make it work for a while. I own it. Figured I’d make use of it.”

“Why lie about that?”

His eyes snapped to mine, and I detected a hint of anger in them, the blue flaring in defense. “I have my reasons. I’m not crazy about the whole island knowing my business, okay?”

Well, that was new.

“But you’re okay with them knowing you’re homeless living on a boat.”

“I
am
homeless living on a boat. They don’t need to know why.”

“Why are you?”

He sighed. “Are you here to say goodbye to me? Because if you are, I’d really like to get on with it, alright?”

“What’s your
problem
?” I sat up straighter, irritated with his attitude. If memory served me right, he was the one who told me he loved me, then slept with someone else. When I’d left him standing in Pete’s parking lot last week, he had looked downright devastated. Remorseful. Were the things Carter said true? If anything, I’d assumed he’d want to make amends. I was here because I wanted to move forward, wanted to hopefully say sorry for how I’d hurt
him
,
but the way he was snapping at me wasn’t making it easy.