CHAPTER TWENTY
Mom understood when I told her I didn’t want to go back to Allegro so I could stay closer to Gamma. She was discharged from the hospital a week after her stroke and would see a physical therapist three times a week for the next month to help regain some strength in her left leg and arm. Gamma would stay at the house with us instead of going back to her condo, but since Mom couldn’t take that much time off of work, I would now be able to stay with her during the day in case anything happened.
The arrangement solved Mom’s problem and my own, because I couldn’t go back there and face Grant every day. He had called over a dozen times, texted his apology over and over, and even sent two dozen purple lilacs with white daises (anonymously, though I knew they were from him) with how sorry he was and he just wanted a chance to talk to me.
I gave the flowers to my grandmother.
Throughout this whole ordeal, Christian had been wonderful. He picked up groceries, played Scrabble with Gamma and me, and even missed band practice to watch a chick flick with me. I mean, yeah, he tried to use it as an excuse to get a little nookie, but I couldn’t blame him. It had been a while for us.
But after my night with Grant, I wasn’t ready to go there with Christian too. It made me feel too…easy or slutty or something. So I faked having my period, which halted him in his tracks. He always hated when I talked about anything too girly like my time of the month.
“Hey, babe? You home?” Christian called from the porch a few days later. It was a beautiful morning and I had opened all the windows and doors to let the breeze air the house out.
“Yeah, I’m in the kitchen.”
I glanced at the clock, surprised to see him at barely eight-thirty in the morning. I could hear the screen door swing open (reminding me I needed to tell Daddy to oil the hinges), and Christian came through and met me in the kitchen. He was wearing his work uniform of board shorts and a teal T-shirt with the surf shop logo on it. He stole a fresh cookie from the cooling rack and kissed me on the cheek.
“Hey, so I have to head into work, but I thought maybe you could drive separately and hang out for a bit? Maybe have lunch with me?”
“And why would I want to spend a perfectly good day in a surf shop when I could spend it curled up on the porch with a good book and Gamma’s famous sweet tea instead?”
“Because, birthday girl, I have a surprise for you.” He walked up to me, pushing me up on the counter and standing between my legs. “And because I know full well Trish and Ava have made plans for you tonight, so it’s my only chance to see you today.”
He nuzzled against my neck. “Maybe I’ll put the closed sign on the door for a little bit, give you the private tour of the back office.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Christian, you can’t do that. It’s the height of tourist season, and you’re gonna be swamped today. Jerry would fire you in a second if he found out you closed the shop to have sex with me.”
He pushed back and pouted at me. I gave him a quick kiss. “But I will come for an hour or so to hang out. How’s eleven?”
Christian grabbed my face and kissed the tip of my nose. “Fantastic! I’ll see you then!”
He grabbed another cookie before rushing out the door. One fell and smashed to the ground in his rush out the door, leaving me to clean it up. He looked at the mess and mumbled “Sorry,” but continued out the front door. I sighed and grabbed the broom and dustpan.
I’d already taken Gamma to PT this morning, and Aunt Natalie was picking her up in the afternoon, so I had most of the day to myself. And since it was my birthday, I decided to take full advantage. I took an extra-long bubble bath, painted my toes and fingers and picked out a strapless purple sundress I’d been saving for the right occasion. After pairing it with some cute yellow peep-toe ballet flats, I braided my hair, threw on some bronzer and mascara, and was ready to hit the road.
I pulled up to the Driftwood Surf Shop ten minutes before eleven and glanced in the rear view mirror to check my makeup before heading inside. The little bell above the door dinged, announcing my arrival. No one was in the front of the store, but I could hear voices coming from the back.
I walked a few steps forward, straining to hear what they were saying.
“You don’t have a f*ckin’ choice. You got into this knowing how this works. So do your f*ckin’ job and move the f*ckin’ product!”
I didn’t recognize the voice, but whoever it was, he were pissed about something.
“Fine!” Christian’s voice yelled back, just as pissed. “I’ll handle it. But this is the last time. After this, I’m done.”
He came flying out of the back room and stopped abruptly when he saw me standing there. “Hey. You’re early.”
I blinked up at him, still kinda confused about what I had just heard. “Um, yeah. Just by a few minutes. I was excited to see you.”
He smiled, relief evident. “I’m excited to see you too.” A noise from behind turned our attention. Christian tensed next to me, but his face remained neutral. “Babe, this one of my co-workers, Andrew. He came in to get last week’s paycheck.”
I smiled politely and waved a little. “Hi.”
Andrew didn’t return the greeting, but continued to stand there, staring daggers at Christian. There was enough tension in the room to make me squirm, but I fought the urge to move. I wasn’t clear what was going on here, but it wasn’t good.
After several very tense moments, Andrew nodded at Christian before stormed out the door. I turned to Christian and tilted my head in question.
“I’m sorry about that.” He slung an arm around my shoulder. “He’s just in a shitty mood ‘cause his hours got cut because we’re not selling enough. Ignore him.”
“Okaayyy.”
“Here. I want to give you the first of not one, not two, but three birthday presents I got you. You’re gonna love it, Jill. “
He ran behind the counter and reached under it before pulling out a small box and handing it to me. It was wrapped in one piece of tissue paper and about three feet of tape. I smiled despite myself.
“Thank you. It’s lovely.”
“You haven’t even opened it yet!”
I tore an edge of the tissue paper and pulled, revealing the contents. I giggled when I saw what was inside. “Red Velvet with cream cheese icing? My favorite!” I opened the plastic lid and pulled the single, giant cupcake out, swiping my finger along the edge to sneak a taste of the icing. “It’s delicious!”
“I got it from that little European bakery in town you always go on and on about. I figure you earned a little dessert before lunch.”
“That sounds like a great idea to me!” I peeled the paper back and took a big bite. I savored the rich, chocolaty taste and sweet, creamy icing goodness. It was, by far, the best cupcake I’d ever eaten. But it also reminded me too much of Grant, and I couldn’t stomach any more.
When I had finished half I held out the rest for Christian. “You know what they say, sharing is caring.”
He inhaled it in one swift bite, oozing icing from the corner of his mouth. I laughed, using my thumb to swipe the extra icing before I licked it off myself. I handed Christian a napkin, taking one for myself. After wiping his hands, he balled it up and tossed it into the trash.
“Okay, now it’s time for phase two of your birthday surprises.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
He swiped his keys from his back pocket and dangled them in front of me. “None other than your favorite—an olives and mushroom calzone from Mezzaluna.”
My stomach practically growled and the mention. “But they don’t deliver.”
“Which is why I have to go pick it up.”
I grabbed my purse. “Well, what are we waiting for? Delicious calzones await.”
Christian slid my purse from my hands and set it back on the counter. “You gotta stay here, babe. I have your third present in the car, and I don’t want to spoil it. I’ll be back in like, ten minutes. Just lock the door behind me and put the ‘Closed for lunch’ sign out. No one will bother you. You can check your Facebook page or something. You know you probably have a billion people wishing you happy birthday today.”
I was bummed he didn’t want me to go with him, but I understood. Besides, he was right. It would take me longer to say thank you to each of the messages than it would for him to pick up lunch.
“All right. And get me a Pepsi while you’re there, too. The fountain kind, not a can.”
“You got it.”
I followed him to the door and locked it behind him before returning to the computer behind the desk. I had logged onto my Facebook page when there was a knock at the door. I ignored it, assuming it was a customer who didn’t see the sign, but the knocking turned into pounding.
“Hey, Christian. C’mon, man. I know you’re in there. Open up. It’s me, Carl.”
I slid from my seat and walked to the front door. Through the window, I could see a guy about the same age as Christian with long, greasy hair pulled back in a low ponytail that went to his shoulders. He wore a Whitesnake T-shirt that looked like it needed a good washing. Or thrown out. Whitesnake? Really? What year was this guy living in?
I didn’t open the door but called through it instead. “I’m sorry, he’s out getting lunch. Can you come back in like twenty minutes?”
“Who are you?” He eyed me through the window.
“I’m his girlfriend, Jillian. But like I said, he’s not here.”
“Ohhh, he’s told me about you, sugar. Listen, I have a package he’s supposed to get. And I gotta run all the way to the other side of town, so this is the only time I can deliver it.” He smiled, revealing crooked teeth that were half rotted. He spit a wad of chew out on the ground and held up a plain cardboard box, shaking it a little for me to see.
“All right, then,” I unlocked the door and opened it a crack. I would take the package for Christian, but I wasn’t stupid enough to let this guy in. “You can leave it with me.”
“Well, aren’t you just a peach.” He moved toward me, probably much closer than was necessary, and handed me the box. He smelled like stale cigarettes and body odor, and I held my breath. I could see when he stretched toward me the Confederate flag tattooed on his forearm. I rolled my eyes but accepted the box.
“Thanks. I’ll be sure that he gets it.” I set the box down on a display stand near me and moved to close the door again.
“You do that, sweet thang.”
He walked out, returning to his beat-up pickup truck, and I blew out a breath as I relocked the door. For good measure, I turned out the lights as well before I scooped up the box and headed back to the desk.
It didn’t have any markings or lettering anywhere on it. I shook it a little, but it didn’t rattle in any way. It was solid and heavy. After staring at it for a few minutes, I set it down and turned back to the computer, getting back to the sixty-five notifications I had.
But my eyes kept drifting to the box as I recalled the conversation Christian had earlier and Grant’s accusations. I fought away the doubts, but kept hearing Grant’s voice.
“You know what? I’m going to prove Grant wrong.” I spoke out loud, to no one in particular. “Christian is not who Grant thinks he is, and this will prove it.”
I opened the desk drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors, slicing along the duct taped seam. With the top open, I pulled at the sides until I could see the contents inside. There, wrapped in layers of plastic and inside several gallon-sized storage baggies, sat what looked to be hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars’ worth of marijuana and a white, powdery substance I assumed was cocaine.
Holy. Shit.
Still trying to give Christian the benefit of the doubt, I pulled one out and opened the seam of the baggie, inhaling deeply and hoping I was wrong.
I wasn’t.
I dropped the package to the floor as I let out a small shriek. This wasn’t recreational or a joint or two. This was intent to distribute. This was years in jail—years! My hands shook and my stomach clenched.
Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit. What did I do now? This was bad. Very, very bad. Ruin your life forever bad. My heart began to race, and a trickle of sweat formed on my temple. What had Christian gotten himself into? Oh God, I couldn’t believe he lied to me about something so serious all this time. He’d promised me he didn’t even smoke anymore. And now he was dealing? Just how long had he been lying to me? He wasn’t the person I thought he was at all.
And Grant had been right the whole time.
But none of that mattered now, because I had a copious amount of illegal drugs now pooled in my lap and at my feet. Should I call someone? But who? My dad? The cops? I bit the side of my thumb and paced a little while I tried to come up with what I was supposed to do now. I was heading into a full-blown panic attack and needed to calm down so I could figure my next step out.
It was then that a horrible thought struck. If anyone came in, they would assume this was mine. And it would be me who suffered the consequences.
That made up my mind for me. I replaced everything into the box and rushed it into the bathroom. One by one, I opened the gallon sized storage baggies and flushed the contents down the toilet.
I had two baggies left when I heard the bell, indicating someone had entered the store.
“Shit!” I didn’t know who it was and prayed to God it was only Christian.
“Babe? Where are you? You’re gonna want to eat this while it’s fresh.”
I sighed, closing my eyes in relief that it wasn’t the owner, Jerry, or the cops or anything. The last baggie was in my hands as I took several slow, deep breaths. And just sat there, with the last of the evidence in my hands. I needed to confront him about this, see what he had to say for himself. And I needed to let him know that we were through. I forgave him once for this, but I couldn’t do it a second time. And I wouldn’t trust him again. Ever.
The bathroom door swung open. “Hey, what are you doing in here? I was…” His words trailed off as he took in the scene before him. “Oh, f*ck.”
I scoffed. “Well, I guess you could say that. There was a delivery while you were gone, dear. A skeevy guy brought a box, said you were expecting it. I’m assuming this is what you and Andrew were really arguing about earlier. Not cutting work hours or not selling enough surf boards.”
I assumed Christian would be ashamed, or remorseful. I did not expect anger. Christian ripped the remaining baggie out of my hands and shoved it in my face.
“What the f*ck, Jillian? What did you do? Where’s the rest?”
I looked up, indignant. “Are you kidding me? YOU are mad at ME? I’m not the one who’s been lying to his girlfriend’s face all this time. And I’m not the one currently engaging in illegal activities that could land me in jail for several years.” I glared at him, furious. “Are you really going to stand there and tell me I’m the one in the wrong here? Is that some kind of joke?”
He leaned into me, inches from me, and pushed me back into the wall. The paper towel rack dug painfully into my back, but I couldn’t move. He’d pinned me. My whole body began to shake in fear. I’d never seen him like this before. “Answer the question, Jillian. Where’s the rest of it? Tell me you didn’t flush it. Please, tell me you weren’t that stupid.” He practically spat the word.
I stood up, placing my hands on my hips. I wasn’t going to let him make me feel bad about this. “Of course I flushed it. What the hell was I supposed to do with it?”
Christian’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You flushed ten thousand dollars’ worth of pot and coke? Are you out of your f*cking mind, you stupid bitch?” His hand swung back, and he hit me across the face—hard. “How the f*ck am I supposed to pay for that shipment now?”
My hand flew to my aching cheek as tears threatened. If I thought Christian had shocked me with the drugs, I was flabbergasted now. I stared at the stranger in front of me, confused at how everything, my whole relationship and who I thought he was, all fell apart so quickly. Just an hour ago we were sharing a cupcake for my birthday.
I turned, silently walking out of the bathroom and to the front door, only pausing to gather my purse. I could hear Christian muttering curses—I didn’t know if they were aimed at himself or at me—but frankly I was through caring.