I shake my head. “No.”
Pulling back, his face slowly bleeds free of emotion, like he folds it all carefully and deliberately away. He nods and stands. His hand comes down, and I take it so he can pull me to my feet.
Swiping the heels of my hand against my cheeks, I try to dry the tears. When I look at him, he’s got his hands linked behind his neck, and he’s raised his face to the ceiling, his eyes closed. His bare chest is broad, billowing up and down, and sun kissed from the boat today. There are red marks from my nails on his shoulders. His board shorts are slung low.
When he opens his eyes, I swallow hard and look away, casting about for my bag. Seeing it by the door, I grab it. I wince. I’m sore and uncomfortable. I twist the door knob to go out, and his palm comes down on the door in front of my face holding it closed. His breath is warm against the back of my head and the tops of my shoulders.
“Did I hurt you just then?”
I shake my head.
“I want you to stay. I don’t want you to go. I want the record to state that you’re the one leaving right now.”
I nod. “I’m okay with that.”
“You’re running.”
“No, Joey. I’m walking away.”
The air around my neck stirs as he inhales sharply. His hand fists briefly before it lifts off the door, and I open it and step out into the deepening dusk.
WITH ANY LUCK, now that Keri Ann and Jack are working their future out, I won’t be at the Butler home much. Less chance of seeing Joseph. Anyway, he has his residency coming up. He hasn’t told us where he’s going. Perhaps he doesn’t know yet, though I doubt it. I know he’s kept in touch with Dr. Barrett. They became good friends after Joey worked with him that one summer, despite it being brief. Even though I can’t stand the guy, I know he’s a good doctor.
I’m leaving soon, and all these details—people, places, plans—will be footnotes in my life. They’ll be interesting pieces of news and that’s all.
My tears are all dried up by the time I drive from Joseph’s to the marina. I stop in at Woody’s and order a burger with everything. Dirty Harry is in his spot at the bar. I clap him on the shoulder, then I walk to our apartment and unlock the sliding door to my room. My mom left yesterday to go stay with an old high school friend who just lost her husband.
I strip my white gypsy dress off my body and pull my bikini off. I’m sticky between my legs and I immediately get into the shower, gasping at the cold as I turn the water on. I don’t wait for it to heat up as I cool my puffy eyes and lather up my hair. I cleanse my body of the events of today. This morning it all seemed so fun, and now I almost wish I could go back in time. This thing with Joey should have remained untouched. Undisturbed. Buried history. Easier to move on from.
I walk out of the bathroom and open my chest of drawers ignoring the framed black and white print of a kitesurfer in mid somersault over the waves, back muscles bunched and rippling. Drops of water suspended in mid air like an explosion. It’s one of the most beautiful pictures I’ve ever taken. It was part of the portfolio that earned my minor in photography. To think I’d taken it before I even went to college. But my professor hadn’t needed to know that. It’s one of the only reckless things I’ve experienced Joseph Butler doing. The only other one I know of is when he took my virginity. And perhaps watching him ride today.
I drag a comb through my tangles and pull on jeans and a shirt, making it back to Woody’s just as the man himself sets a plate down at the end of the bar. “Didn’t feel like shrimp tonight?” he asks. “Josh scored a massive haul this morning.”
Josh is a local fisherman turn broker who bought and sold the other boats’ shrimp too. Fresh local shrimp. There is nothing like it. “Nah,” I say. “I had my heart set on a steak earlier and this is the next best thing.” I upend the ketchup bottle above my plate.
“So what? Are you a professor yet?”
“Ha ha. No. But you are looking at the first Fraser of Butler Cove to have a college degree.”
“Congratulations. You have to wear a cap and cloak or something?”
I laugh. “It’s a cap and gown. But actually, I won’t be here for the graduation ceremony. It’s a formality anyway.”
“I’m proud of you, kid. You could have gone the other way, you know? Seen too many latch key kids ending up with the wrong sorts and getting in trouble. But you always had a good head on your shoulders.”
I finish my mouthful, feeling oddly choked up. And it’s not from the burger or my earlier break down. “You know, Woody, other latch key kids didn’t have someone like you looking out for them after school every day and making sure they got something to eat.”