Clallam Bay (A Fresh Start #2) (15 page)

“Oh. Did you get some time off to go out there and pick up your car? Maybe I could go with you. We’ll make a trip out of it on the way back. Stop at a few of the Seven Wonders. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, that would be fun. Only I sold my car, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. So wait. Then why are you looking up tickets to Seattle? You’re not thinking of going back to Clallam, are you?”

“Not thinking. No. Decided.”

“Hailey.”

“What?”

“You’ve only been here a month and three days. Give it time. You’ll adjust. Things will get better.”

“Will they?”

Amber gave me a look somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “I promise.” She sat down on the couch beside me to pat my hand. “Look, you can take the bed tonight, okay? Get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll go to a museum tomorrow, walk around downtown like we used to, something to get your mind off things. Sound good?”

I nodded, hoping it would help but doubting it just the same. Part of the problem was it was still too cold and snowy to spend much time outside. What I needed was the sun. I needed to wait it out until spring when I could wear jumpers and flip flops, stroll through the park and walk by the water, go to the zoo—something Clallam didn’t even have.

After changing into my fleece pajamas, I climbed into Amber’s bed with no guilt whatsoever. I slept like a baby on Benadryl. Woke refreshed and ready for the day. Maybe all I really needed was a bed with a Tempur-Pedic mattress.

The sun was pretty warm that day, so we got away with wearing just our sweaters. We hit up the Art Institute first, Ferris Bueller style, then grabbed a quick lunch at the Shake Shack before heading over to the aquarium. All was going really well until I got a good look at some sockeye salmon and started wondering if Coll had realized I was gone, if he cared. Hell, if he was even still alive to care.

The thought made me nauseous, but I pressed on. Smiling through the pain. Pushing through the remainder of the school year until it was finally warm enough for those jumpers and flip flops I’d been longing for.

By the first day of summer I had moved into my own place, gained the respect of my coworkers and the majority of my students’ parents.

Chicago didn’t seem so scary anymore. I had hardly thought about the time I’d spent in Clallam the last few months. It no longer hurt to think about Coll. I only seemed to remember the good times, like when he’d made me smile.

It was the very day I considered myself cured of the first crush I ever collapsed under that I received his letter.

The envelope looked worn and felt rough in my hands. Backing up, my knees hit the couch and I sat down, turning it over to look at the front.

My new address had been written over the old address, an indication he hadn’t known I was gone when he first wrote me. It must have been while he was still out at sea. Before he even came home in February.

My fingers itched to open it, to see what he had to say for himself. But time had passed. I had moved on. He had said enough the last time I saw him. I didn’t care to hear any more.

Tossing the letter onto the coffee table, I stood and grabbed my purse, heading out to meet with Amber for dinner as planned.

*

“What’s up with you?” Amber asked, turning my attention from the waterfront view.

Stabbing a cherry tomato, I brought it up to my lips. “Nothing,” I said then took a bite, slowly chewing. If my mouth was full, I couldn’t answer any questions.

I had kept pretty quiet about what happened with Coll back in Clallam. Amber knew the basics. Not the whole story, mostly due to my own embarrassment. But one night I’d had too much to drink, and it all came spilling out in a drunken ramble. Since then, Amber learned when it was safe to push and when it wasn’t. She knew it wasn’t safe to push right now.

“So, I was thinking we could go to a museum this weekend.”

“We went to one last weekend.”

“I know, but there’s a new body exhibit. I figured we could go and I could invite Mark along. It would give us something to talk about. Something more up his alley.”

Mark was a super nice guy Amber had been seeing. He was a doctor and fashion illiterate. They only had so much to sit and talk about. It was cute how hard Amber was trying to make it work with him.

“Yeah, okay. We can do that. Sounds like a lot of fun.”

I grinned and beared through the rest of dinner, trying not to let on how annoyed I was that I couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid letter.

Who did Coll think he was writing after the way he’d treated me? A coward for sure. If it was to explain things, there was no need. If it was to apologize, he could save it. If it was to say he was wrong, well, I didn’t want to know. It would be too easy to forgive him.

*

“Alyssa and Ethan? Are you kidding me? Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” Sonia said then laughed. “They’ve been going at it pretty hot and heavy for the last couple months.”

I shook my head, smiling at the wall. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.”

“Well, ya know.”

My smile faded. “Yeah, I know.”

Even though Alyssa had accepted my going back home, she still saw it as some sort of abandonment. We talked, but not as often as we used to.

As Sonia filled me in on all the things I’d been missing out on, I glanced down at the letter still lying on my coffee table.

“Hey, you didn’t happen to give my new address out to anybody, did you?” I interrupted, knowing full well if anybody had, it was Alyssa just to spite me.

“No, never. Why? You getting letters from bill collectors?”

“Something like that.”

Not wanting to go into any more detail, I hurried off the phone with an excuse of having to meet Amber. While that was true, I didn’t have to leave for another hour. It would have been less torturous to sit there staring at the letter I refused to read than to have to make up stories about why bill collectors would be trying to contact me.

I passed the time by pacing in and out of rooms and opening and closing the refrigerator door.

Have a worry? Stuff your face.

I wasn’t even hungry. It was just that food always seemed to make everything better. Eating was my first instinct.

Since I no longer stored any junk food in the apartment, I grabbed my purse and headed for the closest store. I needed some chocolate and a Diet Coke, dammit. And this time I wasn’t going to deny myself.

*

The museum was packed to the stacks, which only exacerbated my anxiousness. I must have snuck at least two Hershey Kisses for every muscle on display.

The drink was harder to sneak but not impossible. I took every opportunity to take a sip. Like it was a lifeline or something.

When we stopped for dinner later that evening, I ordered a plate of loaded potato skins, which I ate all of before downing an entire twelve-ounce burger and a plate of fries.

Amber looked worried. Her date looked impressed. In fact, he was so impressed he mentioned introducing me to his brother, an orthodontist who was flying in from Poughkeepsie that weekend.

I politely declined.

By the end of the night I was thoroughly disgusted with myself. I couldn’t breathe by the time I made it up the stairs to my floor. After unsuccessfully trying to throw up everything I’d eaten, I got undressed and settled in on the couch to watch my stories.

What I really ended up doing was staring at the letter some more, knowing tomorrow would be a repeat of today if I didn’t give in and read it.

Curiosity got the better of me and I picked it up, looking it over one last time before sliding a finger under the flap and tearing it open. My stomach turned as I unfolded the paper inside and saw his writing for the first time in what felt like forever.

Dear Hailey,

The mornings are cold here out in the middle of the Pacific. Colder than they’ve ever been before. But the sun keeps me warm enough when sitting in the rays that reflect off of the surface of the water. The color reminds me of your hair, how at first glance it looks brown, but then the sun hits it just right and it shines red and gold.

Coll

Lowering the letter to my lap, I stared off into space for a moment before turning it over to check the other side.

Nothing.

I wasn’t sure of how to feel about what I’d just read.

I guessed my initial reaction was flattery. What girl wouldn’t have been if a guy noticed all the highlights in her hair? But ultimately, I was confused. Did he not remember how we’d left things? Did he not remember all the things he had said to me? Did he not remember how he really felt? How he’d told me he felt? Did he not really feel that way? Had he really been that drunk?

All these questions were making me second-guess my decision to leave Clallam. It was almost as if he were playing some perverse mind game with me to make me think I’d made the whole thing up. Had I made the whole thing up? Was I making it out to be a lot worse than it really was? Did the conversation even take place at all?

Yes. Yes, it did. It had to have taken place. In his room. He was on his bed. Yes. It happened.

I took a sleeping pill and turned in for the night. I woke up the next morning and headed straight for the gym.

Not knowing what was in the letter couldn’t be used as an excuse anymore. I’d read it. I knew what it said. It didn’t change anything, but it still felt like I had to move on all over again.

I ran for an hour then took a long shower, reconsidering overseeing the second quarter of summer school. The principal needed an answer in the next couple days. I was probably going to have to take him up on it. Having all this time off wasn’t doing me any good. If I’d learned anything about myself, it was that I was a person who needed to stay busy. At all times.

Especially now.

Not quite ready to go home, I twisted my damp hair on top of my head and went to the park instead. I bought a bagel on the way so I could feed it to the ducks, something I had been doing almost daily.

It was as fulfilling as it was relaxing. I soon found myself calmed enough to go home. Once I made it back I made the mistake of checking my mail, where I found a whole stack of letters bound together by a string.

*

“You swear to God you didn’t tell him?” I asked Alyssa during our impromptu, mid-week phone call.

“Yes, Hailey. I swear. Ya know, it’s not that hard to get someone’s address. Hell, if he was sending them to your address here they’d still most likely make it to you by way of your change of address information at the post office.”

Of course she was right. That was it. It made sense seeing as all the letters had been written over with my new address, none addressed directly to where I lived now.

I fought the urge to ask if she’d talked to him, how he looked, or if she thought he noticed I was gone.

After getting off the phone, I searched the cupboards.

All I could think about was chocolate and cake. Doritos and Diet Coke.

No, no, no, no, no.

No!

I grabbed my tennis shoes and went out for a run in the opposite direction of the grocery store. I purposefully left all forms of payment at home so I wouldn’t be tempted to turn around, make a tasty purchase, then go home to eat it while I read.

What was he trying to do to me? Play this off like it was nothing? Did he want to ruin everything I had worked really hard for? Did he want to make me crazy? Why? Why did he want to make me crazy?

Stopping in my tracks, I rested my hands on my knees, panting like a dog in heat. After a workout was the only time I ever truly craved water. And wouldn’t you know it, I stopped smack dab in front of a street vendor with no money on me.

I walked slowly back to the apartment, never quite catching my second wind. The only good thing that came from that run was I wasn’t craving anything but a shower anymore.

Once I was dried off and dressed, I grabbed the wine and cheese, ready to make a night of it. If there was no running from my past like Alyssa had predicted, I was surrendering to it with class and a glass.

As the first sip seeped into my bloodstream, I opened the next letter.

Dear Hailey ...

They all started the same. Some blurry, some not. Some in black. Some in blue. The same color of my heart as I read over them.

Words like
I miss you
and
I wish you were here
floated around on the pages. There were a few times I found myself misting up, but I swallowed down the tears, refusing to shed any more for him.

Each one was longer and more heartfelt than the last. All still made me question what was reality and what wasn’t. Did it happen? Did it not? Did he remember any of it? At least, that was until I opened the last letter.

Dear Hailey,

I came home today to find that you’d gone. I have to admit I had a feeling you would be but chose to ignore it in hopes that you’d still be here when I got back. Maybe we could have sat down and talked. That is if you still wanted to talk to me.

No. Not really.

I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.

Please believe me when I say I didn’t want to do this through pen and paper or over the phone if I could help it. However, it looks like that’s not going to happen, so here goes.

Taking a sip, I braced myself before reading on.

Every morning I wake up with regret. Not just for my life choices, which you already know. But how I left things between us. Mostly I regret the things I said to you. You didn’t deserve to be talked to like that. Above everybody you deserve respect, Hailey. You deserve better. I wish I could be that better man for you. I don’t know why I can’t. Not now. Not yet. Who knows, maybe never. But maybe one day I can.

I really wished he hadn’t said that last part. Now I was afraid a part of me would always be holding on.

I took a moment and another sip of wine before looking back down to read the rest.

Anyway, I finally got a phone if you can believe that.

I really couldn’t.

It’s prepay and a piece of shit but it works. I’m enclosing the number on the off chance you’ll use it. You can call or text anytime day or night. I’m not expecting you to. But I’d like it if you did.

Coll

His number had been scribbled at the bottom of the page under his name. I had it memorized at first glance. Not that I’d ever use it. But you never knew. What if I had questions on how to gut a fish one day?

After folding the paper, I stuffed it back into the envelope. I sat there and stared at it as I topped off my glass of wine, feeling completely unsure about everything.

*

The next few weeks dragged. There were only so many museums to visit, so many exhibits to tour. I’d been to the zoo so many times the animals were even starting to recognize me.

Every night I passed by the letter that held his number, repeatedly talking myself out of dialing it.

My only relief was when the second quarter summer school started and I had some productive way to spend my time.

The students would probably say I took it a little too seriously, seeing as I assigned homework every night just so I could grade it. But they’d thank me in the long run when they realized summer school was absolutely no fun and that they should try harder to pass the first time.

The kids in the class reminded me a lot of Coll. Many were underprivileged, others simply bored, but they all had a story. A reason they acted out or closed down the way they did.