Fading Memories Read online

  FADING MEMORIES

  A.M. WILLARD

  Booktrope Editions

  Seattle, WA 2015

  COPYRIGHT 2015 A.M. WILLARD

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Inquiries about additional permissions

  should be directed to: [email protected]

  Cover Design by Robin Harper

  Edited by Lisa Gilliam

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  PRINT ISBN 978-1-5137-0094-6

  EPUB ISBN 978-1-5137-0115-8

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015913738

  CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  QUOTE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  END NOTE

  MORE FROM A.M. WILLARD & BOOKTROPE

  Fading Memories is dedicated to my father, who never got the chance to read my published stories. The one who stood behind me through the years, pushing me to become the person I am today. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you, or think of something amazing to tell you. You will always be in my heart, until we meet again.

  Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life.

  ~ANNE ROIPHE

  CHAPTER ONE

  AS I RETRIEVE the grocery bags from the trunk, a sudden movement from the deserted beach house next door catches my attention. It’s been vacant for some time now, and all of us locals are curious whom the new owners are.

  I shield my eyes from the bright June sun as I try to get a better look at the person strolling toward me. When he gets closer, I notice the magnificent wall of muscles in a plain, gray T-shirt, torn jeans, and flip-flops.

  He stands at least six feet tall to my five-foot-eight-inches as I stare up at him. His hair’s a thick, shaggy brown with curls hanging down around his face, and I feel this incredible urge to reach out and run my shaky fingers through it.

  While trying to gather my senses, one of the bags slides from my arms and crashes against the concrete, causing both bottles of wine to shatter, and the dark liquid to spread into a puddle.

  “Shit! Real smooth, Izzie.” Bending down to collect the glass, my face flushes with embarrassment. The stranger crouches next to me, his long legs folding in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible for such a tall man. On our knees, gathering glass, we’re the same height.

  “Careful.” His voice is warm and thick, laced with a Northern accent. Somehow he makes the simple word sound like music.

  He holds out a hand to take the broken pieces from me. I ignore it as I continue to drop the shards of glass into the ripped bag.

  He must notice the brush-off, and there’s a pause of silence before he speaks. “Sorry about startling you, I’m Dakota; just moved in next door.”

  I’m so not in the mood to play this game of polite exchanges, especially with this handsome neighbor and his startling green eyes. I glance up and notice the strands of hair that have fallen into his face. The urge to caress him and move the lonely pieces away so I can stare into his eyes hits me again. Instead, I tighten my hands to form fists and then relax them.

  “Ah … It’s okay. I’m Izzie, I live … Well, I live right here.” I point behind me to my cottage.

  “Nice to meet you, Izzie.” He extends his hand out for me to shake. I hesitate for a brief moment, and then give in.

  Dakota’s grip is firm but gentle, causing a rush of heat to course through my body. It’s an unwelcome feeling that’s causing my breath to quicken and my heart to stutter.

  Yanking my hand out of his, I quickly look up at him.

  “Thanks for the help but … I need to get these groceries in the house and start on dinner.”

  “Do you have a guest coming over?”

  “Yeah … just my girls; we try to have dinner at least once a week or so.” Shaking my head, I wonder, did I just tell him that?

  “Your girls?”

  “Yes, Kelsey and Leah. Look, I really need to get inside. It was nice meeting you Dakota. I’ll see you around sometime.”

  “Sure, just wanted to introduce myself. See you around, then.”

  Grabbing the rest of my bags, I turn to head toward my safety. When I enter the cottage, the fading scent of Old Spice hits my nose and reminds me of comfort, security, and love.

  En route to the kitchen, I try to shake off the emotions coursing through my body. Setting the bags down on the counter, I dart my tongue out to wet my lips and notice how dry my mouth is. I grab the pitcher of water from the refrigerator and fill my glass. I stand here, in the middle of the kitchen, and question where this feeling is coming from. I’m not sure if it’s from the heat outside or Dakota’s green eyes. Whatever it is has now caused me to have a fire burning from deep within. This is definitely something I’ve never felt before.

  Peter, my ex-fiancé, never sent an electric shock through my body or made it scream to be extinguished. Even as I stand here, I’m still humming. If this is going to happen every time Dakota’s near me, then the need to carry around a gallon of ice-cold water is necessary. Either that or I’ll steer clear of him. Thinking that I’d really look like a dork for carrying water around, I’m choosing to ignore him.

  I reach for my phone to text Kelsey and Leah, and spot Dakota. He’s leaning against the rail of his deck, watching the waves crash against the shore. Now changed into a pair of black swim trunks with no shirt, his muscles are glistening and I notice some black ink on his arm, but I can’t be sure from here.

  Coming back to earth, I swipe my phone open and finally start typing out that text.

  Me: Issues with the wine, can one of you stop and pick some up? You know which ones to get.

  Hitting send, I start trying to figure out a way to explain this problem.

  Kelsey: Really? You sloshed? I’ll stop and pick it up since I know I’ll be early.

  The next chirp comes from Leah. “I’m going to need to know why you had issues with the wine. That’s not like you. Running late, thanks.”

  I’m not shocked that Leah’s running late; she’s neve
r on-time—ever.

  I shake my head at the two of them because I know they’re going to have a field day with this little predicament. I need to get a grip on this feeling I have. Otherwise, they’re going to tell me for the hundredth time to move on, and get back up on that horse.

  My summer break just started and I’m in dire need of a mental pause. No grading papers or getting up before the sun to make it to school before my students. Most of all, no responsibility other than myself for the next few months, then, if I’m lucky, no thinking about my past. All I want to do is remodel the cottage, catch up on reading, and relax. That’s all. But for some reason, deep down, I have this crazy notion that this summer’s going to be a roller coaster.

  Getting back on track, I start to prepare the vegetables for our salad and put it all away. Moving back to the counter, I season the salmon and chop the red potatoes. As I do these simple tasks, I find my thoughts still all over the place and realize that I need to change before my friends show up.

  In my bedroom, I cross to the small closet in the corner. After pulling out my favorite navy blue dress, I lay it out on the bed and then dig around on the floor for my brown sandals. A knock on the front door startles me. I rush out to the living room and take one quick look through the peephole and notice it’s Kelsey.

  “Come on in, getting dressed now.”

  “Why are you all flushed, Izzie?”

  “I’ve been rushing around to get things ready for dinner and lost track of time. Go open the wine. I’ll be right there.”

  Back in my bedroom, scrambling to finish, I glance at myself in the mirror. My long honey brown hair is cascading down to the middle of my back and I’m not wearing any makeup. Satisfied with the simple look, I take in my golden brown skin and decide it will work.

  Joining Kelsey in the kitchen, I grab one of the glasses already filled with wine and lean against the counter. Then I hear a faint knock.

  “Come in,” I scream since I know it's Leah, who enters quickly and heads right for us. It’s an open floor plan and she can see us standing at the bar. Embracing her in a quick hug, I grab my glass and hand Leah hers.

  “Izzie, did you finally get those speakers installed on the back deck?” Kelsey asks.

  “No, you know I have no clue how to wire that stuff.”

  “Well, where’s that music coming from?”

  Stopping to listen, I hear it now as well.

  “I think it’s coming from next door. The new family moved in today, I guess.”

  “Oh, what are they like?” Kelsey asks.

  “Not really sure, I’ve only met Dakota so far.” As I finish, I raise my glass up for a sip to distract me from saying anything else.

  “Oh, you know just another guy, nothing special,” Leah says in her sarcastic tone as she waves her hand about.

  “Really Izzie, your cheeks are glowing at the mention of him. And when I got here, you were all beaming. Are you hiding him in your bedroom?” Kelsey questions.

  “No! No! He seems nice and is appealing. I’m sure he has a family, and you know I’m not interested in a relationship with anyone anyway.”

  They wave me off and head out to the sunroom in hopes of catching a peek. Outside, they spot Dakota right away, strolling up his path from the beach. Still in his black swim trunks, he now has droplets of water cascading down his body, no towel in hand. He spots us staring and stops. Dakota cocks his head in our direction and displays a broad smile. I’m hiding behind the girls as I make sure to get a peek of his wet body. Dakota moves our way a little more, then stops to throw a wave in our direction.

  “Hey Izzie,” he says in that Northern accent of his. The girls throw their heads toward me with their eyes bugging out.

  “Just a guy, huh?” Kelsey asks.

  “Oh, come on, give me a break. We just met and well, yeah he’s a guy.”

  “Family or no family, that man is hot as fire. I’m moving in just to stare at him every day,” Leah says while fanning herself with her hand.

  “Come on, stop being nosey. We need to get the grill going; I’m starved.”

  “Fine, stop getting your undies in a pinch. I’m sure we’ll see more of him soon enough,” Kelsey states.

  Laughing them off as the grill fires up, I realize that I’ve missed this. Listening to the waves as the breeze skirts against my skin and, of course, the banter between the girls. Well, it could be better if Peter and my father were here. That would make tonight perfect.

  As I shake my thoughts away, I say a silent prayer they’ll stay out of my head. I don’t want to think of Peter or my dad tonight, as it would only give Kelsey and Leah something to worry about.

  Kelsey must realize I’ve drifted off, which causes her to follow me into the kitchen.

  “Izzie, you doing okay?”

  “Yeah, you know me, I drifted off, but I’m back now. No worrying tonight, promise?”

  “I’ll try, but you know I always worry about you.”

  “Come on, let’s get dinner going. I’m starving. You know Leah will be ready to eat in like ten minutes.”

  Carrying the salmon and the red potatoes in the foil, we head back outside and move toward the grill. I lift the lid to place the food on the hot racks, close it, and glance next door. Thoughts of not only my past, but Dakota, engulf me for the millionth time today.

  The cottage next door is beautiful, larger than mine, and has always been a part of my memories. I remember all the years growing up here, how much fun we had. It’s been a revolving door for summer rentals, which always meant new kids and people to meet. For the last year, it’s been vacant, just like me. Now, it has a new family, and I’m a little curious what kind of aura the cottage will hold. Will it have children running up and down the deck, heading to the beach to make sand castles, and flying kites on a breezy day? It’s a beautiful concept to see some life around here, finally.

  No one rented it out last year, and the cottage looked as dead as I felt on the inside. It was quite fitting, if you ask me. Not sure how it worked out, but it did. Especially since last summer I really didn’t want to see anything come to life. Hell, I was dead inside right along with everything around me. You’d have thought a zombie lived in this place most days until I somewhat pulled myself out of my depressed state.

  Coming back to reality, I glance over to see if I can catch up on what is happening around me. Kelsey is rambling on about her day and how she wants to become a teacher like me.

  “Kelsey, you’d kill the kids in like ten seconds flat. They’d drive you nuts and then you’d walk out. Then what?”

  “I know, I know, but I want summers off like you. You get to hang out and look at this view every day. I miss the days where we would do that over summer breaks,” Kelsey whines.

  “Remember, I’m not playing this summer; I’m remodeling what hasn’t been done yet to the cottage. It’s time for more upgrades and change. Seriously doubt it’ll be as much fun as it was when we were kids.”

  I turn back around and realize dinner is done. “All right, let’s eat; deck or house?”

  “Bitch, please. You know where we’re eating,” Leah yells.

  “Fine, let’s make our plates and refill our glasses. I’m hungry.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  OUR LAUGHTER’S REACHED an all-new level tonight, and none of us noticed the music stop next door. We’ve been over everything I’ve been doing to keep myself busy, and what the girls have been up to.

  Leah thinks that now, with half a bottle of wine ingested, is a good time to bring up the latest gossip on what’s new with Peter. Everyone—and I mean everyone—thinks they need to keep me updated on his life. Honestly, all I want to do is forget everything that was Peter.

  “So, he asked that girl he’s been dating to marry him.”

  Spitting my wine all over the table, I whip my head around toward Leah. “What! Are you kidding?”

  “Sorry Izzie, but no. Found out this afternoon from Joseph and wanted you to know firs
t.”

  I look toward Kelsey, and she seems to be just as shocked. “Did you know this?” I ask.

  “No babe, I didn’t know.” Kelsey glances toward Leah. “Maybe a little heads-up would’ve been nice though.”

  “I’ve got to say I’m shocked, but it’s not really any of my business, guys. He left me remember?” I remind them both of this little fact.

  “Yeah, we remember. We were the ones trying to pick you back up when it all happened. Hell, we’re still attempting to pick you up,” Leah says.

  A little annoyed with my two best friends, I set my glass down and start in on them. “I don’t need you guys to pick me up. I'm okay! How many times do I have to remind you of this?”

  “We just want you to be happy, Izzie.” Kelsey shrugs.

  “I’m happy. Might not be in love or have a completed heart right now, but I am.” Deciding to be brave in order to see what I can find out, especially with this bomb Leah just dropped in my lap, I have to ask, “Do you know what date they’ve set and where?”

  “No, I just know he asked her to marry him after dating for nine months. Plus they’ll be in town for The Fourth of July. Joseph said they’re staying with him while visiting.”

  “Wow, I’m shocked that he agreed. The last time Peter’s name was brought up, Joseph said he was going to serve him up on a platter to sharks for breaking my heart,” I say with a smirk.

  “Yeah, well you know how he is, all talk and no action,” Leah says.

  As she continues to ramble, I choose to space out. Watching their lips move, I know they’re talking, but I can’t comprehend it. They lost me right after the whole Peter’s getting married. It just reminds me of how little our four years together meant to him, and I replay that last evening with him over in my head.

  The cottage was quiet and all the funeral guests had left. It was almost like an empty shell of a coffin. Peter was at the kitchen sink, staring blankly out across the rocky water of the Atlantic.