Back to the Beach

2

The wind bangs a tree branch against the window while the light from the TV blares against the walls of my dark bedroom. Some crappy romance plays on the screen showing the couple breaking up after some terrible fight, making my heart ache more.  “How could he do this to me?” I think to myself. “How could I let him do this me?” I thought to myself again.  A tear falls down my face. I have no one to blame but myself for the position I’ve found myself in yet again. You’d think I would learn that after years of friendship and constant let-downs that this wouldn’t hurt as much.  Still the words on my phone accompanied by the picture of him wrapped around another woman was enough to tell me that once again I had fooled myself into thinking that he’d finally make whatever this was between us official, that it wouldn’t just be hidden anymore or some fling for when he was bored.  However, in classic Zach-fashion, I’ve once again been left in the dust.  

I need to leave. I need to get out of this funk that I’ve once again found myself in.  I scroll text messages for the message that confirms the one thing I have to look forward to. Maybe I’ll be able to head out there a few months earlier than planned, getting things set up will be a sure distraction; just what I need to heal the pain that seems to be wrecking my heart and soul.  Found it! I immediately call the number attached to the message and confirm my plans with the wonderful woman that had allowed me to rent the place where I spent my childhood.  My heart fills with just a little excitement. Time away is just what the doctor ordered. If I get ready now, I can leave by morning! 

Throwing some clothes and essentials in my bag, I am ready in less than twenty minutes. I text my parents, siblings, and closest friends to let them know I won’t be around for the next week or so.  Long enough to get things in order for summer, and hopefully long enough for some long-awaited healing. I just hope my little sanctuary can help me rebuild what has been broken down bit by bit over the last few years by someone who clearly could give a crap about me…

I wake with a start, the pounding rain waking me up earlier than usual today.  There really is nothing worse than being in a bungalow in a rainstorm.  Thank goodness the chill in the air last night forced me to close all of the windows or else the newly washed floors would be a mess.  Thankfully, I still have plenty of cleaning to keep me busy on such a miserable day. Turning on the radio, I decide to finish up in the kitchen today. Just as I plot my plan of attack my phone rings.  My heart skips a beat because I do not want to speak with Zach. Whew, it’s just Mom checking in with me.  We chat for a few minutes and promise to make plans for a visit down here soon.  My Mom loves the beach just as much as I do and only she knows my reason for being here.

Mom was always a champion for any kind of relationship with Zach.  She adores him but also realizes his shortcomings.  It was always apparent to her that he was so much like my Dad.  We both always thought that with all the similarities that he and I were just meant to be.  Now I am here to convince myself that that is not the case at all.  So far so good; at least for the moment. 

My phone pings again a short while later; and I already know who it is.  My heart flutters for a moment and then my brain catches up in time for the scowl to form.  What could Zach possibly want?  “Yo Bern, where you at?” it reads.  This is an inside joke dating back to middle school.  One afternoon I was out with my family at our local pizza place, and he had sent me the very same message.  Back then I was giddy to receive it from the boy I had the hugest crush on.  Now it just irritates me because he will never be that sweet boy again.  Well Zach, where I am at right now is of no concern to you so I text back “At my beach, please leave me be.” and promise myself that I will not answer any further messages.  Thank goodness he takes the hint and it ends there.

As I am busy scouring my kitchen there is a purposeful knock at the front door.  After that unwanted text message, I am not up for visitors. Besides, who could possibly be out in this downpour?  As I pass the mirror in the front room I realize that I look a wreck with oven grease smeared across my brow. As well as still being in my old t-shirt and flannel pants.  Oh well, whoever it is will just have to deal.  As I open the inside door my breath catches, I am looking at them most beautifully sculpted back I have ever seen and hoping that the front matches this view.  “Um, hello?  Can I help you?” I manage to squeak.  As he turns around, I am rewarded.  A mass of deep brown sun-kissed waves falls over his forehead, hiding the bluest eyes I have ever seen. He flips his hair with the back of his hand he chuckles just a little, “Good afternoon Miss Gallagher, hope I am not interrupting your cleaning.” Making you laugh am I now? Suddenly I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence but I take a deep breath and give him my best smart-ass answer. “Cleaning? Why not at all, I was just putting on my makeup, can I help you sir?”  He grins at me sideways almost immediately “Sorry to bother you. I’m Killian, Mrs. McCrory’s grandson.  I help my Gran keep these old bungalows livable.  Just passing by to make sure all is in working order.”  My snarky comment was so worth it to see that smile cross his face.

Tentatively I reached out to shake his offered hand.  I don’t know why, but he’s made me feel uneasy, like those blue eyes could see right through me.  I was right, as I touched his calloused hand for the first time all the buttons went off in my head and the fluttering in my belly began.  Breathe girl; you are not here for any of this.  “N-n-nice to meet you Killian, all is good here.  Would you like to warm up with a mug o’tea?”  Did I really just say that, please I pray he is busy and declines.  “Love to but I am off to the check the rest of Gran’s tenants.  Rain check?” he quickly replied.  Did he feel it too?  

“Rain check, good choice of words considering the weather Killian.  Let’s say ‘sun-check’ as I would much rather sit outside.” I answered.  What was wrong with me?  Someone please stop me now.  I know I am just being polite but seriously this is not what I need.  “Ha, that sounds good Miss Gallagher, but would you mind telling me your first name?” he smiled at me.  “Bernadette, I’m Bernadette” I answer.  “Well Bern, I’ll be seeing you sooner than later hopefully but I’m not sure that color of eye shadow agrees with you.  Try to stay dry love.” he winks at me just before he walks off.  What the devil had gotten into me?  I had just invited a total stranger for tea - a stranger who set off all my bells and whistles.

Whew, am I glad that’s over with.  Now back to my business at hand, getting the rest of this kitchen cleaned.  Humming along to the radio I head back to finish off the oven.  After that I’ll move onto the fridge and try head to the market for some groceries.  It will be nice to cook a hot meal after this cold rainy day.  After a long scrub, the fridge is good as new and my kitchen is ready.  As I sigh in my contentment, I notice that the rain has slowed up some and I can head out to the market.  For some reason I can’t get those blue eyes out of my mind.

The gods must be smiling on me because it has finally stopped raining.  I was not looking forward to walking back fumbling with an umbrella and these bags of groceries.  As I amble back towards my little bungalow I notice a young woman.  She looks familiar in that déjà vu kind of way but I just can’t place her.  She seems to recognize me too as we exchange worrisome glances across the street.  I approach with the expected “Hi, do I know you?”  She looks at me and says, “You look so familiar but I can’t for the life of me remember why.”  As I introduce myself, I hardly get to finish my last name when she exclaims “Oh my, I can’t believe it – my old beach buddy – Bernadette, I’m Paige from Beach 109th!”  I can hardly believe it myself - I used to rush to the beach everyday just to pal around with Paige when we were no more than 10-11 years old.  We were inseparable on the beach that summer.  We chat for what seems like forever and promise to hang out some during the summer.

With the kitchen scrubbed clean, I can put these groceries away and make myself a proper meal tonight.  Some warm pasta and a salad should keep me busy for a while.  With the radio to keep me company, I revel in creating my dinner. I am forever grateful that there is now a country station available.  How can you live in the largest city in the world and not have a country music station?  Yet another thing of my mother’s that has rubbed of on me.  Miranda Lambert is pissed about a White Liar and I feel her pain.  Even though it’s only two days in, I feel a little stronger already.   I sit down at my little table and glance out the window facing the boardwalk and the ocean and I notice a rainbow forming over the beach.  I am hopeful that this is a sign of better days ahead.  Who knows maybe even a pot of gold for this Irish lass on the other end?