Page 62 of Fighting the Tide
“I either drive with you, or I’ll drive myself.”I have to hand it to her.It would work on a man who cared about if his woman was driving behind the wheel for long, extended hours.
“See you in Chatham then,” I reply and hang up the phone.
I am not her significant other, nor do I care where she decides to drive and for how long.I don’t think I can make it any clearer than I already have.I don’t want to ever disrespect her because I wasn’t raised that way, but she’s making it impossible for me to stay courteous.She’s misconstruing my politeness for love or affection, and I know it means I will have to start detangling our lives and pull away from her for good.
First, I’ve got work to do in Chatham and that’s where my energy will have to be.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ittakesmeaday to drive there because I stop a few times along the way, feeling no urgency to step foot in Chatham.There’s nothing in that town that resembles home anymore.When I finally pass the town’s sign, my stomach coils and I find filling my lungs to capacity is impossible.I open the windows, letting the air blow through the car and instantly regret it when the briny scent has me tumbling back through my memories to the lighthouse.
I was prepared for this, or so I thought, but now I realize there is no amount of preparation that can ease the loss of your soul.
Time has done nothing but make me cold and cruel.There has been no healing that I can sense now that I am within the town’s borders.Old feelings of anger and resentment resurface, telling me that I’ve gotten nowhere with moving on.I’m once again feeling lost, adrift out in the middle of the ocean.So instead of heading straight to the cottage, I stop off at the liquor store to grab a bottle of whiskey, then think better of it and buy two.
With the sun going down over the horizon and the wind dropping a few degrees, I check into the bed-and-breakfast in town, glad when no one recognizes me.Why would they?I’m not anyone of importance anyway.Just the son of an addict and a housekeeper.
My heart sinks in my chest when I think of my mother and what she must truly be feeling seeing all of this.Her son, no closer to becoming a man since the last time she saw me, and now I’m cradling a bottle of whiskey in my arms as a comfort.
The room that I’ve paid for two months is a nice corner unit with a small balcony that gives you a view of the town and the ocean beyond it.I step out onto the balcony and nearly spit out the gulp I’ve taken from the bottle when I see Brooke’s Cinemas across the street.I fall into the chair and stare at the sign, my heart galloping through my rib cage.They changed the name for her.Now they want to act like loving parents, but they could’ve treated her like this while she was alive, and just maybe, none of us would be mourning her right now.
That’s a heavy accusation, I know, but when you’re nearly halfway through the first bottle of whiskey in less than twenty minutes, grace doesn’t exist.
There’s no doubt in my mind who I resemble right now, but I am his son after all, and his way of coping is suddenly very appealing.The town’s exterior lights blink on as the sun fully sets and I sit, transfixed, as the lights of the theater shine brightly.I don’t hate the new name.It’s fitting.I just hate what it means.I would rather it said Mitch’s Cinemas if it meant Brooke would still be alive.
As the thought floats through my head, a girl on a bike comes riding out from behind the theater.Nothing sticks out about her light brown, wavy hair, or her skinny limbs, and knobby elbows and knees.The sight of her has me standing from my chair with the bottle of whiskey still firmly in my grasp, nonetheless.She reminds me of a girl I once knew.A girl who used to sit under the bleachers at school and smoke cigarettes.I wish I could get a closer look, but something tells me this is the whiskey doing the job I expected of it.It numbed me so I can endure being home, but it’s forcing me to relive my memories of the girl who stole a piece of my soul.
Even if the hair color is a little off.I can forgive myself for the slight mix-up.Brooke’s hair was like honey, rich and shiny.
I stumble back into the room, leaving my memory of her behind and setting the bottle on the small table beside my bed.I don’t know how I’ll survive here for months if this is how it starts.My body hits the mattress and I bounce into the cushion, my eyes closing instantly.
After my open balcony door wakes me up at the crack of dawn, I take a much-needed shower and then drive over to the cottage.I’ve prepared myself for the destruction that awaits me, having seen the mess he started ten years ago before I left Chatham for good.Although, I don’t know how well mypreparationsare working because the memories have taken their hold in just a few hours.
I drive by the theater, giving the new sign a cursory glance.No wonder I imagined her last night, having her name on a place that meant so much to the both of us would trigger that.That was something I wasn’t prepared for.
When I’m finished grabbing industrial garbage bags, gloves, and masks from the hardware store, I make my way to the beach and the cottage that is now solely mine.I wish I had the nerve to sell it as is and leave this place once and for all, but I can’t.My mother still lingers there inside the walls of the small cottage she took so much pride in.I couldn’t disparage her memory like that.
I pull into the overgrown driveway, somehow avoiding the potholes from memory alone, and park beside the red truck.The wheels are all completely flat and the exterior is covered in rust.There looks to be a piece of wood covering a broken window and the fender is sporting a few dents.God only knows what he hit while he was clearly driving under the influence.
Luckily, the doors are unlocked when I try to open them because finding a key inside will probably be next to impossible.Inside the truck, I find more garbage, but nothing of value, and decide it’s time the vehicle was sent to the junkyard.There’s no saving it and although it hurts to see it go, it’s the only option I have.I place the call to have it picked up right away because the driveway needs to be dug up and redone.
I brush away tall weeds as I step up onto the front porch, my gloves on and my mask in place, and open the door.Avery’s mother, Carol, said she left it unlocked and placed the set of keys they found on my father on the table by the door.I stare into a dark space, the electricity long cut, and see the piles of garbage highlighted from the sun pouring in through the front door.My mask is on, and still, I can barely take a breath because of the overwhelming stench.I head to every window in the small space and open them wide, hoping to air it out further and provide some more light besides the front door.
The electricity should be coming back any day now since I paid the few thousand dollars in owed bills and fees, but for now, I’ll be working in the dark.I begin with the heap by the front door and work my way toward the kitchen.Most of it is food containers and kitchen garbage, along with some dead mice mixed in for good measure.
I get about ten bags deep in garbage when I hear a voice behind me.“This place is a mess.”
I turn around to find an older-looking Darren Sanderson leaning against the doorframe in a pair of coveralls and a T-shirt, his feet covered in steel-toed boots.His hair has gray running through the strands and his eyes are surrounded by fine lines.“Your client is long dead,” I call out.“We have no need for your services any longer, I’m afraid.”
“I deserve that.”He nods as he steps in further.“I don’t deal anymore.I haven’t for over seven years.Mom called me when she saw you were over here, hoping I could help you out.”
“Help me out with what?”I ask as I place my gloved hands on the waist of my track pants.Seeing the man who provided my father with drugs and who once held a gun to my head threatens to bring back the anger I’ve worked so hard to control.
“I own a construction company now,” he reveals as he looks around the place.“I thought I would offer myservicesat a heavily discounted rate since I had a hand in this mess.”
His statement shocks me as I give him a once-over.Few people would own up to that, let alone offer to rectify it, and I can’t hide how impressed I am with this new version of Avery’s brother.“Offer accepted.”I nod and step forward to shake his hand.
“I’d rather not, man.You reek.”He steps back while shaking his head and crossing his arms behind his back with a smile.“I kind of jumped the gun and ordered a bin to be brought over here.You’re going to need it for all the garbage.I would also suggest adding on an extension to make this a two-bedroom.”He carries on through the house, kicking the garbage aside as he imagines what I should do to the place in order to get top renting dollars.
