Fading Memories Read online

  "There'll be a storm tonight,” I said, a little too loud for our surroundings, and held out a glass of red wine toward Peter. He shook his head, not looking at me as he pulled me to the dining room table. Pushing the bouquet of calla lilies I’d received to the other side, he sat down next to me and took a moment to rebalance himself.

  "Izzie, I'm sorry. This isn't the right time, but it can't wait any longer."

  "Peter please, not tonight,” I begged and looked up at him. “It’s been such a long day, I'm tired. Let's just have a glass of wine, watch the storm, and face tomorrow, tomorrow."

  I ran my hand over his sleeve as a sign to show him I just needed him to hold me. Fixating on his mouth as he talked, I questioned how long it’d been since he kissed me—months probably. All my free time away from school had been spent caring for Dad, his illness eating away at him day by day.

  "… new head of department in Houston," I heard and zoned back in to pay attention to Peter.

  "Wait. What?" I blurted. "When?"

  He sighed. "You weren't listening, Izzie. You never hear anything anymore. I've accepted the offer of a department head in Houston. I leave on Saturday."

  "Saturday …" I looked around at the remnants of my father's life. "It's too soon, Peter. I need to sort out Dad's estate and it's the middle of the semester; I can't just leave the kids.”

  He looked at me, and his eyes were cast with pity, and it made no sense. Then it all hit at once when he continued to explain.

  "I've arranged for a moving company to deliver your belongings here tomorrow."

  "What?" I felt like I was screeching, but my voice was quiet and broken.

  "I'm sorry, it just isn't working for me anymore. Those first two years were great, really, and you're a great girl, but it's time we move on."

  Peter stood, and on autopilot, I followed. He took my hand and shook it—deal concluded. I looked at him as he released my hand, and it dropped to my side.

  At the door, he turned. "I really am sorry about your dad, Izzie."

  That was it before the door shut quietly behind him, and for a heartbeat, I thought I was going to pass out. Grabbing the vase from the table, I launched it toward the door and screamed out, "Screw you, Peter!”

  I fell to the floor, finally sobbing—for Peter, for my father.

  The storm broke outside at some point between my tears, and the wind lashed at the siding of the cottage.

  I remember that I’d pick myself up from the floor that night and made my way out into the sunroom. Curled into a ball on the loveseat, I lay there, watching the lightning and counting between the flashes and thunder. In a state of shock and alone, I couldn’t move. Knowing that my father was at the end, we were able to have that closure. What I wasn’t expecting was for Peter to leave me when I needed him the most. I didn’t see it coming, completely clueless.

  Yes, I’d been preoccupied over the previous couple of months, but I really thought Peter understood what was going on. We’d grown apart, but I thought once we got past this, we’d repair us. I knew he was upset that I’d pushed our wedding date off; he couldn’t understand how hard it was for me to do. A girl’s dream is for her father to walk her down the aisle and give her away to the man she loves. Not for a moment did I question if Peter loved me. It might not have been the same way I loved him, but he did. Two men held the keys to my heart, and at the same time, they both shattered it to pieces.

  Needing to snap back, I stand up and excuse myself as I head inside to use the restroom. Quietly, I close the door behind me and turn toward the mirror. The tears are building. Red splotches run across my face and neck as a sign of being upset. I splash cold water on my face, hoping it’ll bring me back to today.

  I hate reliving that night, and I need these thoughts to stay dormant. If I let on to anything, Kelsey and Leah will be all over me. That’s definitely something I strive to avoid now. I dry my face off and head back out to finish up for the evening. I pass through the kitchen and pick up the other bottle of Merlot, which I am pretty sure we’ll knock out tonight. Well, I know I will.

  Stepping into the sunroom where the girls are sitting, I notice that they both have that cat and the canary look on their faces. Pretty sure I was the topic of conversation while inside. I sit down and spot Dakota near the path toward the beach. He looks as if he’s been listening from afar to the conversation that’s going on.

  Staring out into the dark night, I realize then that I have gained the audience of both Kelsey and Leah. They’re glancing back and forth between us. He must’ve figured out we spotted him because Dakota turns and heads toward the beach, never glancing back. Kelsey and Leah watch me as I drink my wine and admire the back of Dakota as he stalks toward the shore.

  “So, him again,” Kelsey says, as Leah starts fanning herself.

  “Yes, that’s him. More wine?”

  “You're all flushed, Izzie,” Kelsey points out.

  “You know you can always climb on that horse and take it for a spin.” Leah laughs as she informs me of this.

  “Look, drop it, okay? It’s been a long, strange day, and you’ve just dropped a major bomb on my lap.”

  “Fine,” they both say in unison.

  They know to leave it, that I’m processing it all at once. Plus, the man down by the shore is more than likely taken. I mean come on, even though I have no interest in getting involved with him, who would pass him up? Even if he was single, I’m letting that ship sail; swearing off love. All those things I grew up dreaming of ended a year ago.

  “Can you believe it's summer already?” I ask.

  “No, but I am glad it is,” Kelsey responds.

  “Do you guys remember when we first met?” Leah asks.

  “Ah … Yes, what were we, freshmen in high school?” I ask.

  “Seems like yesterday, if you ask me,” says Kelsey.

  We all met in our high school homeroom class. We’d introduced ourselves to each other, and ever since, we’ve been attached at the hips. They called us the three amigos all through school. If one got into trouble, we all did. Thick as thieves, my dad would call us.

  “Yes, it does seem like yesterday, but at least the getting in trouble days are over,” I say.

  “Speak for yourself. I still love getting in trouble. Just last night, I went to the store and flirted with the guy behind the meat counter just for the hell of it,” Leah says, as if it’s no big deal.

  “Leah, you never cease to amaze me. Why would you do that? You know he’s been crushing on you for years,” I say.

  “Because I can, and I did.”

  “Kelsey, help me out. Make her understand you don’t go around getting his hopes up. Every time I’m at the counter he tries to get her number from me. It’s getting kind of awkward now.”

  “You really think I can do something with her?” she responds as she points in Leah’s direction.

  I shake my head. “No, I guess not. Leah, you’ll never change. You’re nuts, and you’ve got to be the craziest of us three.”

  “You know you guys love this crazy girl. I keep you all on your toes. If not for me, who would entertain you?”

  “This is very true, Leah. I’d be lost without the two of you. We’ve been through some crazy shit over the years. One thing’s for sure, you’ll never bore me.” I’m smiling as I make that statement because it’s the truest thing I could ever say.

  “I’ll second that one. Hell, I know when your name pops up on my phone it’s something good. Always is,” Kelsey says.

  “So Leah, tell us, what’s new with you and Joseph? Do you hate each other this week or love each other?” I ask, just to provoke her.

  Joseph is our guy friend. If we need anything, he’s the one we call. If we need something fixed, he’ll fix it. It doesn’t matter what the three of us ask, he’ll always come to our rescue. The sad thing is, Joseph has been in love with Leah from the day he laid eyes on her in ninth grade English class. But Leah, on the other hand, loves him but fights t
ooth and nail against it. One day they’ll figure it out. Hope its sooner rather than later. He’s a catch, and someone might snatch him up before she comes to her senses.

  “Shut your face. Ugh … he pisses me off. Do you know that he has to talk to me every day? I mean, every day! Who wants to speak to the same person every day?”

  “Really Leah? Give it up to him, let Joseph in. Aren’t you telling me that all the time?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but you’re different, Izzie. You want to settle down and start a family. I don’t. I’m not ready, and how do I know he’s the one I want for the rest of my life? I’m a free spirit who needs to spread her wings.”

  “Oh, we know you want to spread something, might not be wings though, babe,” Kelsey quickly says, and I laugh at the banter between them.

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong Leah. I used to want to settle down and start a family. Now, it’s not in the cards anymore.” I shrug.

  “You’ll find love again, I know you will. You deserve it,” Leah says.

  “You never know. That person could be right next door to you now,” Kelsey states.

  Laughing at both of my best friends, I’m happy they know how to change the subject. I’ll admit that Dakota is hot as hell. Love worthy? No, that’s not happening.

  We finish talking and come up with a few ideas on the redecorating that I’m set to start tomorrow. Well, that is if my head lets me. With all the wine I’ve consumed tonight, I’m sure to have a slow start in the morning. I’ve got about two and a half weeks until Fourth of July is here, and that has always been our big holiday party to kick off the summer. Everyone attends; we eat, drink, and laugh. When the sun starts to set we head toward the pier for some dancing and the fireworks display.

  Last year I wasn’t in the party mood, which ended up with me vetoing the holiday. The need to entertain a bunch of people wasn’t front and center for me. I did, however, sit out back and watched the fireworks side-by-side with Kelsey and Leah. This year, I’m hell-bent on making it all happen, even if I am not totally on board with everyone coming over.

  Finally, after saying goodnight to the girls and locking the front door, I head back toward the sunroom to make sure we’ve picked up everything from dinner. This area of the cottage has always been my favorite part, even though it needs some fresh paint. Part of it is a sunroom, and then you go out through the screen door to the back deck. I’m excited to have this part redone and make it into my own space.

  Walking out the screen door, the light breeze sends a chill through my body. It’s a gorgeous evening for a stroll down to the shore; I must have done this every night last year, even in the winter. This is one of the main reasons why I keep a towel folded up in the sunroom. Reaching inside the screen door to pick it up and kicking my sandals off to the side, I head down the moonlit path.

  Once I reach the shore, I stop to take in my surroundings. I roll out my towel and grab my spot. The breeze is just enough to move my hair around and to give me a few goosebumps. The waves are quiet, with a slow and steady rush. Taking in the sounds and fresh air, my eyes close to welcome the peace as it washes over me.

  Since I’ve always spent so much time out here listening to Mother Nature, it seems like I should drop a dollar or something into the water. “Free therapy,” my dad would always say. “If you got a problem, go sit in the sand; listen to the waves, Isabel. They’ll tell you what to do. They always will.” I can hear him now, repeating those words to me over and over as I sit here.

  After a deep breath in, I let it out with a long sigh, and a lone tear slides down my cheek. I’m not even sure if it’s over the memories or the news that Peter has moved on. Gently wiping it away, more start to slide down just as fast as they can. I don’t want to cry—I’ve done nothing but cry for months.

  I want to smile.

  I want to believe.

  I want control back in my life.

  What I’ve been doing lately isn’t taking control, it’s been relinquishing all my power to emotions. I have to find a way to take that part of my old life back.

  Someone clears their throat behind me, and I jump, letting out an intimated scream.

  “You okay, Izzie?” Dakota is standing in the dark behind me.

  Wiping the rest of my tears from my face, I look up at him.

  “Yes I’m good; you scared the shit out of me. Stalker much?”

  “Sorry, couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk. I wasn’t sure if that was you or not. I’m just heading back now.”

  “Oh, well, it’s me. Have a goodnight. I’m sure your wife’s waiting for you.”

  “My wife?”

  “Ah … yeah, I thought your family might be waiting for you to return from your walk. I mean, it’s kind of late, you know.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure if I had a wife I wouldn’t be walking around in the middle of the night on the beach. I’d find something else to tire me,” he says, giving a half-shrug toward me.

  “I just thought you’d have … you know, a family.”

  “No, no family.”

  I eye him up and down, and even in the dark he’s gorgeous. Something about the way he’s watching me gives me a sense of familiarity. I can’t put my finger on it, but he reminds me of someone I’ve met before. It could be we crossed in a past life, as I’m sure I’ve never seen him before.

  The moon shines just bright enough to put a slight glow on us, and I pray he didn’t notice me crying. Fidgeting with my fingers, as he’s made me nervous, I glance back up to him. “Well, I need to head back. It’s getting late, and I have a long day tomorrow,” I say, my words directed at the sand as I try to ignore him.

  I reach down to pick up my towel, but Dakota grabs it before I can. “I’ll carry this back for you. Are you sure you're okay, Izzie?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m good. Thanks, but I can carry it.”

  “I got the towel. You sure you’re all right? I thought I saw you crying before I walked up and scared you. Which, again, I’m sorry for doing,” Dakota says, but in return I don’t answer, not sure I trust my voice. Instead, he gets a quick nod in his direction, the only reassurance I can give him right now.

  As we walk back up toward our houses, I don’t know what to say. He saw me crying, and who knows what Dakota heard while lurking in the dark. I’m still a little shocked that he’s single—well, maybe. He did only say he wasn’t married. I could ask him, but then that’ll give him the wrong idea. For now, it’s best to ignore that thought and continue up the path.

  Next to the steps of my deck, I turn toward Dakota and reach for my towel. Our fingers grace each other’s again. My cheeks feel as if they are on fire. Hoping he doesn’t notice, I yank my hand away. Does he believe the same thing I do? Lord, please tell me no.

  With a quick pivot on my heels, I turn toward the steps and stop when he clears his throat.

  “Izzie, I know it’s really none of my business why you were crying on the beach tonight, but I do hope everything is fine. If you need anything, I’m just next door.”

  “Thanks, but I’m good. Now hurry off before the girlfriend misses you,” I comment as I give him a half-smile.

  “No girlfriends either. Well, for now, that is,” Dakota says, giving me a wink and that crooked smile.

  Gosh, he really is nosey and cocky, I think as I enter the house. He must think all the ladies in this part of town are going to bow at his feet. Just my flipping luck—I get the nosey Yankee to move in next door.

  Making sure everything’s locked behind me, I walk through the house toward my bedroom. Pajamas on, I slide under my sheets and allow my mind to venture to thoughts of Dakota. Replaying the events of today, I know I need to stay clear of the smooth-talker next door. Not knowing what he overheard this evening causes me to be a little weary. Does he think I’m some broken girl who is all alone and needs to be taken care of? Well, I have a news flash for him; I might still be recovering from a broken heart, but that doesn’t mean I need him to rescue me. I’m now c
ertain this will be the longest summer of my life, and one that’s going to require a good fight.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ROLLING OVER, I try to shield my face from the light shining through the sheer curtains. I make a mental note to get some blackout ones. During the school year, I’m always up before the sun and it’s never bothered me before. Now, the sun is like a floodlight shining into the room when I want darkness. “Ugh, I drank too much wine last night,” I say, groaning into my pillow as I roll over in protest. Then I remember the dream I had last night. I haven’t had it since I was a child and wonder why it came back last night of all nights.

  The dream is always the same: two little dark-haired boys and me, flying kites around on the beach. I always lose mine, and when it happens, one of the boys always hands me his. I can’t even see what the kites look like, but I know that’s what we’re doing. Back when I was younger, this was a reoccurring dream I’d have, but it’s been over a decade since it’s visited me.

  Sliding my robe on, I stumble to the kitchen for coffee, and right now, I’m thankful I’d prepared it before bed. The day looks overcast but with hints that the wind will blow it out. Coffee in hand, I move to the sunroom.

  Love mornings like this … listening to the seagulls while enjoying my coffee. Taking another sip, I look around the room that’s on my high-priority list to change. I turn my head to the right and notice Dakota on a stroll up my path and not his. “Really, does this man not know he’s got his own and this is mine?” I say out loud. Guess I need to send a memo out or post a sign saying, “Private property, asshole.” Maybe then he’ll understand. It’s not that I’m trying to be rude, I just don’t like strangers walking around my house at all times of the day or night—especially him.

  He glances up toward my house and then back toward his, as if he’s contemplating what to do. He continues toward his deck but stops suddenly. Crap, he’s coming this way. I really should just get my ass up and go hide inside. Maybe then he’d get the picture. Yet, I’m too comfortable to lift a single body part.