Blues Beach, Page 7

  At all.

  It’d be bad enough having to deal with them at the funeral. She could only imagine how much bullshit she’d have to put up with if she got roped into any “family” events.

  But she had the perfect excuse—her time was now spoken for outside of the actual funeral. Somehow, as one of the group admins, as well as Cara’s friend and cousin, she was now looked at as a “leader.”

  Her mother had proven her family hadn’t mellowed or changed in the past several years, so she felt zero guilt about approaching the weekend like that.

  As they queued to board, she took a deep breath and tried to relax and remember that the reason she was going was for Cara, not for her parents or siblings, or anyone else.

  * * * *

  “Holy crap,” Jeff muttered as Tracey pulled out of the rental car lot and headed toward the freeway. “This is nuts.” Rush hour was even worse than she remembered. To Jeff, it must have seemed an insane level of traffic.

  “It was crazy even when I lived here. You have no idea how hard I fell in love with Florida. It was like paradise to me.”

  “How long have you lived in Florida?”

  She told him the story of the post-graduation vacation that turned into a staycation that turned into a new life—and which had earned her a lifetime of extra disapproval from her family.

  “I could go out to the beach and sit there, and it was quiet. You have no idea what that feels like. Here, in this area, it’s always jam-packed with people. Even Laguna Beach, which isn’t as bad as LA proper, is still busy and not…laid back. If you go north, up to the city, it’s like the St. Pete beaches during Spring Break times ten, and that would be on a slow day for LA. Forget the weekends or holidays.”

  He looked around, toward the north and east. “The mountains look pretty.”

  “I never really got to see them that often. Not those. There are some smaller foothills around where my parents live, but I didn’t get up this way and venture into the mountains very often. I’ll take Florida, thanks.”

  “Even with hurricanes?”

  “You get notice with them. There’s no earthquakes, no firestorms, no landslides in the rainy season after the fire season. My sister couldn’t wait to get back to Cali after she graduated. She hated Florida, hated the humidity. I loved living there. Seeing how inexpensive everything was compared to here, I was actually able to support myself out there, whereas here I never could have. The traffic was nonexistent, compared to LA. There weren’t a fraction as many people. I loved it.”

  She’d pulled up the route on Waze on her phone before they’d left the rental car place and found that, at least, wasn’t too different. A few more options, new highway extensions and bypasses to speed the drive to Laguna Beach, but overall the same journey. So she didn’t stress and instead focused on driving.

  “Anyone in particular you’re looking forward to seeing while we’re out here?”

  She’d done pretty good over the past few days not thinking about Eric.

  Until that question.

  “My aunt and uncle, and JJ. That’s John, Jr., my cousin, and Cara’s older brother. I mean, not under these circumstances, obviously, but they were never pretentious dicks to me.”

  “I meant anyone from school.”

  Why deny it? “There was a guy. But he’s probably married and not even coming this weekend. He’s not in the Facebook group. If he’s…” She swallowed hard, the thought strangely hitting her for the first time. “If he’s even alive.”

  It was stupid to assume Eric was alive when Cara had dropped dead of what turned out to be an anaphylactic reaction to something in the Thai takeout food she’d brought home. They weren’t sure exactly what had triggered her, because it’d had peanuts, fish sauce, shrimp, and a few other things in it, stuff she’d eaten before, but apparently had developed a late-onset allergy.

  She’d been eating it when she died.

  “You haven’t tried to look him up?”

  “No. I figured why court trouble? I’m sure he’s married, great life, all of that. He was pretty driven and really going places when I knew him. I can’t imagine he has anything but a successful life.”

  She didn’t need to look to sense Jeff studied her while she drove.

  To the west, the sun was starting to set over the Pacific. As she threaded her way through slow-as-shit traffic, she fought the urge to resent being here. Every mile she drove took her closer to dealing with her parents. With feelings.

  With memories.

  With heartache.

  A dark beach, a soft blanket spread over the sand, a warm body that felt perfectly molded to hers.

  Blue Pacific waters lapping at the shore.

  Her blues…gone when she was in Eric’s arms. He’d never cared about her going to college. He’d always told her how smart he thought she was, and never talked to her in a condescending way.

  Always in a loving way.

  The way he’d always loved her when they were together.

  Two stupid kids and a whole lot of dreams, and she’d said good-bye to him first to keep it from hurting so much when she knew it’d have to end anyway.

  Or so she’d thought.

  The truth was, it’d never stopped hurting.

  Not even now.

  * * * *

  Thursday evening, Eric Martin stared at the suitcase he was trying to pack. So far, over the past twenty minutes, he’d managed three pairs of briefs and some socks.

  He’d be flying out to LA early tomorrow for the funeral of a friend, who was also the sister of a good friend of his. He hadn’t seen Cara in several years, but he managed to get together with JJ at least once every couple of years, and they talked on the phone every few weeks, texted more often. Facebook Messenger had allowed them to have nearly daily contact.

  Not exactly how he’d planned to spend his weekend, but when JJ had called him in tears just hours after finding out about his sister’s death and asked if he’d be there for the funeral, of course he’d said yes.

  He couldn’t not be there.

  He still couldn’t believe Cara was gone.

  Within a couple of hours, he’d received phone calls from three other friends from high school about her death, and follow-up info as weekend plans were put in place. A bunch of their classmates were going to get together for the weekend, not just for her funeral. He couldn’t escape the grim logic that if he was out there already, he might as well stay another night. So he booked a room for Friday and Saturday nights, flying home on Sunday night. Now that they were of a certain age where some of their classmates might start dying, maybe it was time for him to make an effort to try to reach out to old friends.

  He hadn’t attended their twenty-year reunion, although he had made the ten-year.

  That had been before he’d met Paige, when he was still single.

  The one person he’d desperately hoped would be at their ten-year reunion wasn’t. And while there, he’d heard she was married with a child.

  Maybe that was why he’d finally started thinking about seriously dating after he’d returned home, instead of focusing only on work.

  Or his memories.

  I wonder if she’ll be there this weekend.

  Of course those kinds of thoughts weren’t healthy or productive. If anything, it’d only be setting himself up for additional heartache.

  He’d had enough of that in his life.

  He hadn’t asked JJ if she was going to be there this weekend, either. He refused to make this about him in any way. He was there for JJ, to meet up with other friends he hadn’t seen in years, and not to masochistically flagellate his heart over old memories.

  Even though they’d be everywhere he looked while he was in Laguna Beach.

  His parents had moved to Oregon the January after he’d left for college, his father’s work taking them there. Other than the ten-year reunion, he hadn’t been back since.

  Hadn’t felt the need to.

  Knew the siren call
to sink into old memories would dredge up pain he didn’t want to deal with.

  Especially not now.

  He finally managed to get himself packed before heading to bed. As usual, he stared at the ceiling as his thoughts spun out in a thousand directions, retrieving memories he both cherished and dreaded at the same time.

  Does it ever stop hurting?

  Apparently not.

  Not over Tracey, and damn sure not over Paige.

  Maybe he’d spend the rest of his life trapped in this cycle, and if so, he’d own it.

  Better the familiar pain and darkness he knew too damn well than inviting new pain into his heart where it could carve fresh grief into his already scarred soul.

  Chapter Nine

  The sun was heading toward the horizon by the time they reached the hotel Thursday evening. Tracey fought the urge to stare at the sights as they drove south into town, pick out what had changed, what had remained the same.

  It wouldn’t do her any good right now.

  Their room was on the second floor, and the hallways were all open-air. They left their luggage in the car, wanting to see the room first before hauling everything up. Jeff unlocked the door and his voice pulled her up short.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What?” She peeked past him to see the single queen-sized bed. “Uh-oh.”

  “Let’s see what we can do. I know I booked a room with two beds.” He led the way, locking the door behind them.

  Unfortunately, the desk clerk couldn’t help. “I’m sorry, we’re full this weekend for a reunion, and—”

  “I know,” Jeff said. “We’re here for it, but I specifically requested two beds when I made the reservation.”

  Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she chewed on her lip. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any other rooms available. Aren’t you a married couple?”

  “No, we’re not.” He looked at Tracey. “What do you want to do?”

  “We do have a cot we can give you,” the clerk suggested. “I can loan it to you free of charge.”

  “I’m not exactly worried about you molesting me in my sleep,” Tracey said, “but I don’t relish the idea of sleeping on a cot all weekend.”

  “I’ll sleep on it,” Jeff volunteered.

  “Uh, no. You’d barely be able to move come Sunday morning. Call Bran. Ask if he minds if we share a bed. He probably won’t, but ask him anyway.”

  The desk clerk looked extremely confused now, and even though Tracey knew she owed the woman no explanation, she still explained while Jeff stepped away and called.

  “He’s my ex-husband’s husband. That’s why we have the same last name. He volunteered to come with me this weekend. It’s my cousin and friend who died.”

  “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t take the reservation. They have both your names listed as guests, so they must have misunderstood when they assigned the room.”

  Jeff returned, smirking, handing the phone to Tracey. “He wants to talk to you.”

  She took it and turned her back to the desk. “Hey.”

  Brandon sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “Still determined to poach one of my husbands out from under me, huh?”

  “It was your hubby who made the reservation, Sir.”

  He snorted. “True. Yeah, it’s fine. I do appreciate you asking, but seriously, it wasn’t necessary.”

  Once she got off the phone with him, she turned, handing Jeff his phone. “Okay, we’ll take it, but does that mean we get a cheaper room rate because of the screw-up?”

  The clerk’s fingers flew again. “Oh, yes. They did charge you the higher room rate. Let me fix that and credit your account.” She reached under the counter and handed Jeff a couple of neon pink cards. “And here are two free drink vouchers for the bar.”

  He passed them to Tracey. “I can’t use them. Not with the meds I’m on. Enjoy.”

  She snorted. “There you go, trying to get me drunk and have your way with me.”

  They both burst into laughter.

  * * * *

  Once they were settled in their room, they decided to venture out in search of food instead of eating at the hotel. After a quick search online, Tracey found an old favorite of hers was still in business, a wood-fired pizza place just a few blocks away.

  “Where do your parents live? Are they close by?” he asked once they’d been seated and had menus.

  “Too close,” she muttered, hooking a thumb over her shoulder and pointing. “About five minutes in that direction. We didn’t live on the beach, but we could easily walk there and had just as good a view.”

  “Were you a surfer girl? All ‘cowabunga, dude’ and all that?”

  His playful smirk couldn’t be denied a smile. “Believe it or not, no, not all native Californians who are raised on the coast are beach bums.” Her smile faded. “Not that my parents would have let any of us ‘waste’ time doing that if we’d expressed an interest in it. Unless it was a sport we could get a good scholarship with, they wouldn’t have tolerated us doing that for long. They were both originally from the East Coast. My dad from New Hampshire and my mother from Connecticut. They met out here in college and ended up getting jobs and settling here, so they really weren’t much into the culture, except academically.”

  “This looks like a money area.”

  “It is. They both came from money, and are both well-known in their fields of study. Multi-published and highly sought-after speakers.” She played with her glass of water, tracing lines in the condensation along the sides. “I’m the only disappointment in the family.”

  “Hey, now.” His tone sounded gentle and so much like Brandon it nearly drove her to tears. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. I’m pretty sure saying that’s within the scope of my orders, too.”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ve accepted it. Came to terms with it a long time ago. In some ways, they were right. I know it doesn’t define who I am, or, it shouldn’t, but I still live with it.”

  The lights in the restaurant caught the ice cubes in her water and shed small diamonds through the sides of her glass. “I vowed I’d be a better parent than they were, and I nearly fucked that up. Thank god for Brandon. At least Em had one reliable parent.”

  Her gaze fell on his wedding band. “And you and Stuart,” she added. “You’ll never know how grateful I am for the two of you being in her life.”

  * * * *

  After dinner, they headed over to Main Beach, where she slipped off her sandals and dipped her toes into the cold water, shivering, smiling. “Brr.”

  “Huh?” Jeff leaned in and touched a wave as it licked at the shore. “Holy shit.”

  “Colder here. Another reason I love the Gulf. I’m not even that fond of Atlantic beaches in Florida.”

  “It’s weird thinking about looking out over all that water and no land at all until you get to Asia.”

  “The Gulf is big.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not the same,” he said. “The Gulf is…finite. This feels infinite, somehow.”

  She turned and stared at the beach, which had changed a lot from her teenaged years. Gone was the small copse of trees that used to be one of their favorite places to sit. In its place, a playground.

  In some ways, maybe that was better, that it wasn’t too much the same.

  A little less painful.

  “Want to walk back along the beach?” She pointed. “Our hotel has steps down.”

  “Sure.”

  They headed that way. Even the brisk late March salty air tasted different, a little sharper, not as sweet as the Gulf. Under her feet, she didn’t feel the soft, fluffy, white quartz sand beaches like on the Gulf. The sand was yellower, coarser.

  Different.

  Unfamiliar now.

  In the distance, she watched seagulls diving into the water just off shore, more trotting along the waves on the beach, using the last traces of light before settling in for the night.

  “Am I a horrible person to not want to see m
y family?”

  He draped an arm around her shoulders, and like this, she could almost pretend he was Brandon. “No, sweetie. You’re not a horrible person. Sounds like you went through a lot.”

  “That’s no excuse for how I treated Brandon for so long.”

  He stopped her and made her turn and face him. “Honey, you changed. You grew. You’re still growing. You’re being a lot harder on yourself than any of us are, including Emma, who is the one who matters most. She’s forgiven you. You need to learn to forgive yourself.”

  “If only it was that easy.”

  * * * *

  Tracey tossed and turned all night, getting up a couple of times to walk over to the window and stare out at the dark Pacific beyond the beach so she didn’t lie there and wake Jeff with her thrashings. She couldn’t get comfortable, and it had nothing to do with the bed, or who she was sharing it with.

  It was like every time she closed her eyes, she watched her teenage years play out like some hellish high-def private screening of a movie.

  Highlighting every mistake she made.

  Including breaking up with Eric.

  She would never be able to erase from her memories the look of pain in his green eyes that night. When they sat on the beach together and talked. He hadn’t wanted to break up, but she’d promised him if he still wanted her when he returned from college, then they could get back together. That she didn’t want this, but didn’t want to tie him down and have him resent her.

  Except she hadn’t stayed in Cali.

  And he hadn’t returned, as far as she knew.

  It was like the unseen shadow she’d lived with all these years was finally given a face and a voice—the tears in his eyes as they’d hugged one last time and told each other they loved each other.

  The thing she had always run from.

  Because wasn’t that more the reason she’d moved to Florida than even her family? A new start where everything didn’t remind her of him?