Before I Ever Met You

It’s just me and the ocean, an ever-deepening connection to some part of nature, some part of me, that I’ve never felt before.

And then, it’s over.

The wave gently places me on the shore, like I’m being carried in the ocean’s hand.

The board skids along the sand for a few feet and then stops. I hop off.

I did it!

A let out a little yelp, throwing my hands into the air and doing a little dance. My smile is so wide, it’s hurting my cheeks and the pain is absolutely beautiful.

“Look at you,” Logan calls out to me, as he walks out of the surf. I feel so high, my adrenaline firing through my veins, that it doesn’t even bother me that I’m ogling his body once more. If you saw his hulking mass of muscles walk out of the ocean, dripping wet, his hair slicked back, you would do the same.

“I did it!” I cry out. “Yay me!”

He walks right over to me and stops a couple feet away. Close enough for me to see the tick of his pulse along his throat, the drops of water caught in his scruffy beard. Close enough for my already fired-up body to start overreacting, my heart picking up the pace even more.

“You did good,” he says, peering down at me with an intensity I feel burning in my gut. His voice is rough and low, like he’s telling me a secret. “I knew you would.”

I smile up at him, my lips feeling stiff now. I’m happy, so happy, that I finally was able to catch a wave. But it was because of Logan. I owe him now and I’m not sure I like that.

And there’s too much of his manly masculinity standing in close proximity to me.

“Well, I’m sorry you had to hear me sing,” I say quietly, looking away.

“Are you kidding me?” he says. “That was the best part. I had no idea you were that horrible at it. Suspected, but never knew.”

I snap my head back to him and playfully hit him across the chest. “Hey!” I admonish him, trying to ignore how hard his chest had felt under my hand. “Why don’t you get on the damn board and sing me some ‘Purple Rain?’”

“Maybe some other time, Freckles,” he says. We stare at each other for a few moments. It’s like he’s actually trying to count the freckles on my nose. I’m not even sure I’m breathing, I’m kind of lost in the space between us.

Then he clears his throat. Loudly. “I’ll see you,” he says. His voice is stiff, as if he’s been caught thinking about something he shouldn’t.

“Okay,” I manage to say as he walks away toward the hotel, clouds of sand kicking up behind him, beads of water still snaking their way down his back.





8





“And that’s all you have to tell me?” my mother’s voice crackles over the phone.

“Pretty much,” I tell her.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

I sigh and take my cell out onto the balcony hoping to get better reception, though to be honest I was done with this phone call ten minutes ago and a dropped call would be a great way to get out of it.

“I’m saying yes,” I tell her, not even bothering to hide the exasperation in my voice. “That’s all there is to report on.”

The line goes silent for a moment and I think maybe I did lose her after all but she sighs. “I’m just checking up on you. If you don’t want to tell me anything, that’s fine. It’s not like I’ve talked to you more than once over the last three weeks.”

Here comes the passive aggressiveness. “Look, I like it here. People are nice. I like my job. I’m busy, and that’s a good thing. There’s nothing much else to talk about.”

“And Logan?” she asks. “You’ve barely mentioned him.”

“I have too,” I tell her. “He’s fine. He’s been a fair boss. He’s very busy too. It’s not easy to run this place by himself.”

She scoffs. “That’s because poor Juliet was doing all of it for him. My poor baby.” She sighs. “My biggest regret in life was letting her marry that, that…beast.”

Beast? That’s a new one. Caveman? Yes. I’m not sure what to say to that except, “You couldn’t have stopped her mom, she fell in love.”

“Bullshit,” she says. “He tricked her.”

“Tricked her?” I repeat.

“He came when she was most vulnerable. After she broke up with William, when she was getting tired of the politics. Your father and I knew we should have done more to get her back on her feet, back in the scene. And then this schmuck shows up with his irritating accent and promises of a hotel in the tropics. He duped her into thinking that was the life she wanted. He stole her from us, Veronica, don’t you forget that.”

“Uh huh,” I say. “And so if that’s how you feel, how come you have no problem with me being here?”

She sighs again, louder this time. “You couldn’t live at home with us. The fact that you’re my daughter and couldn’t get another job was rather telling, don’t you think?”

“Telling of what?”

“You’re twenty-seven years old, Veronica. What does that say about me, about my role in Chicago, my role in the government, among the people, that my adult daughter is a complete failure?”

Stunned. I’m stunned. I’m used to low blows delivered by my mother but this one takes the cake. And the fact that she’s saying it in her politician voice, cold and factual, just adds to the injury.

“Mom,” I say, trying to hide the hurt in my voice.

“Oh, toughen up honey,” she goes on. “You know what I mean.”

“You just called me a failure!”

“I’m not saying you’re a failure, I’m saying that’s what it looks like. People will think there’s something wrong if you can’t get a job, and I wasn’t about to have you moping around at home and coasting your way through life. You’re my daughter, Rose Locke’s daughter, and you’re the only one I have left. I don’t have Juliet anymore and neither do you, so I’m sorry if you can’t be the black sheep anymore. There’s no room for it. You have a reputation to uphold here.”

My heart is thudding in my brain so hard I can barely hear her. “I wasn’t the black sheep,” I say even though I know it’s true. I was always lesser compared to Juliet, and now my mother hates me for it.

“All I wanted was for both my daughters to follow in my footsteps. Juliet would have made an excellent politician, she was caring, kind, beautiful, smart. She could charm anyone into doing anything. She could have carried on the legacy of strong women in male-dominated roles.”

“I’m a fucking cook, mom!” I’m nearly yelling. The couple on the nearest balcony are looking at me curiously. I lower my voice, “I fought to be in the position I’m in right now, I’ve been fighting my whole life in a male-dominated work force.”

“And see what good that did you.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what you did at your last job, but I know you got fired, Veronica, and I know you screwed up.”

My lips clamp shut. How could she know?