The photo was of her blowing out birthday candles at what looked like some super-posh restaurant on the other side of the world. If she had any idea that this birthday was going to be one of her last—I suck in the salty air and focus on the crashing waves, trying to take a full breath.
My eyes scan the horizon, taking in the view. The seagulls that perch on the cliffs, some other kind of bird with a long, needle-like bill that digs in the sand by the water’s edge. There’s the cluster of surfers out past the breaking waves, and the occasional jogger that passes by. The wind is cool against my face and I consider going for a walk to try to clear my head, although being alone with my thoughts doesn’t seem to make any of this easier.
I soothe my anxiety by pulling out my notepad, this one rectangular because the sunflower was driving me crazy, and I rewrite my list.
Sort and divide.
Separate valuables.
Infrequently used items first.
Label, label, label.
The thwack of a screen door has me whirling around to see a woman on her porch. It looks like she’s trying to pull a garbage bag from inside but can’t seem to manage it with her walker.
“Good morning.” I make my way to her and her eyes narrow on mine through thick Coke-bottle glasses. I open my mouth to introduce myself, but decide I’ll wait for her reaction to see if we’ve already met, or rather, her and Celia have already met.
“Oh . . . good morning.” She’s out of breath and there’s a light sheen of sweat on her upper lip. “I think my garbage got too full is all.” She’s playing tug-of-war with the screen door and the bag.
I scurry to help her, freeing the overflowing bag and scooping up some of the trash that escaped. “I got it.”
“Thank you.” She leans her weight on the walker. “This didn’t used to be so hard.” She smiles and I return the sentiment.
“I’m happy to take this out for you.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t ask for—”
“It’s no big deal. Really.”
“Thank you, um . . . oh . . . I’m sorry, I don’t remember if we’ve met.”
Perfect. “I’m Celia, I live in number four.”
“Right, I know I’ve seen you around.” She holds out one hand, fingers curled up with what I’m guessing to be arthritis. “Mrs. Jones, but you can call me Mary.”
I shake her hand gently, not wanting to hurt her. “Nice to meet you, Mary. I’m running to the dumpster. Is there any other trash you need me to take?”
“No, but thank you.”
I open the screen door to help her back inside. The smell of rotting garbage becomes overwhelming and I wonder how long it’s been since she took out her trash. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can run out for you?”
“No, I don’t think so.” I shut her door for her as she walks deeper into the dark cottage.
Holding the bag as far from my body as possible I race to the alley and heave the stinking mass into the dumpster. Then, holding my hands away from my body, I head straight inside for a long hand wash followed by hand sanitizer because you can never be too safe. In my haste I practically knock over a tiny girl. “Oh crap! I’m so sorry.”
Not a girl. A short woman.
“Celia, you’re back.”
I jerk my head up at the sound of her saying my sister’s name and have a brief oh shit moment because I didn’t have my Celia mask firmly in place. Standing just a foot away with a nose ring and a blond pixie haircut, the petite woman smiles and I immediately recognize her from some of my sister’s pictures.
“It would seem so, yeah.” Wearing a pair of yoga pants and an oversized tee I pulled from Celia’s closet that reads “The Confession Bar, New York, NY,” I hope I’m convincing enough.
She wraps me in a hug. “It’s great to see you.”
I pat her awkwardly. “It’s great to be seen.”
Pulling back she grins wide. “How was your trip . . .” She purses her lips. “Where were you again?”
“Ah . . .” Shit, what did I tell Brice? I clear my throat. “A little bit of everywhere, and then Phoenix.”
“Is everything okay? You took off without a word.”
I stare beyond her shoulder, her inquisitive eyes seeming to see right through me. “Fine, yeah. I’m good.”
She tilts her head. “You seem . . . different.”
“Me?” I allow my body to turn to Jell-O. “Oh, psht, no. I’m good, just . . . hung over from being out all night, you know how it is.” I trail off with nothing more to add because I’ve never stayed up past midnight unless it’s been to watch the ball drop on New Year’s Eve from the safety of my bed.
“Oh yeah, where’d you go?” Her eyes flash with interest and excitement. “I heard Blink 182 played a surprise show at the Casbah. Were you there?”
“Uh . . . no, I was . . . at a bonfire party and everyone was night surfing and there was this ex-football player so we all played football on the beach. It was dark but they used the headlights from their cars and stuff.”
Her eyes narrow and I try not to shift in my flip-flops. “Isn’t that a movie?”
“Hm?” Oh shit.
“Point Break. The movie, you just—”
“What? No. Lame.” I can’t believe I actually thought I could pull this pretending to be Celia thing off! I paste on a big smile. “How’ve you been?”
“All right, I guess. You know me, never a dull moment in the life of Z?e. Hey, everyone’s been asking about you down at the bar. Think you might be able to drop in tonight?”
“Tonight?” I dip my chin seeing the word confession on my shirt and wishing I could do just that, confess who I am and be done with this stupid charade. I crank my mind back to the photos I saw of this woman and hope they’ll give some hint as to what bar she’s talking about. “Maybe, it depends how much I get done here.”
Her perfectly sculpted brows drop over crystal-blue eyes and she tilts to look through the window of my cottage. “Are you moving out?”
“Yeah, I’m going back to Phoenix.”
She sticks out her lower lip. “What a buzzkill.” The disappointment is short-lived and she grins. “All the more reason for you to come to the bar.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Great!” She leans in and wraps me in another hug. “You’ll keep in touch from Phoenix, right? Maybe come out for a visit? Oh! Will you still be here on the Fourth? OB is one of the best places in the world to spend the holiday.”
“Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.”
She pulls back and smiles. “Cool! So I’ll see you tonight?”
“Mmm.” I roll my lips between my teeth to avoid giving a definite answer.
She doesn’t seem to mind and skips away with a finger wave.
I’ll need to figure out what bar she’s talking about. I’d ask Brice, but after that kiss he gave me the first night I’m afraid to bump into him again. God, I’ve been here two and a half days and kissed two different guys.
I didn’t kiss Mark until our second date.
Suddenly feeling naked and exposed I turn and duck back into Celia’s house. Oh my God. I’m a slut! And strangely the idea of seeing Aden again makes my pulse jump in my veins and butterflies race in my belly. He’s the most masculine man I’ve ever known. Not as pretty as Brice, but he wears his male sensuality with the kind of confidence I rarely see on men.
My nerves tingle and stir.
Leave it to Celia to talk me into living as her, and leave it to me to enjoy it. At this rate I may never want to go back to being myself.