Page 12

Dreamers and Schemers

Waves have a way of whispering. I didn’t know a better way to describe the effect, the way the crashes and breaks tickled my ears and reminded me how big the universe really is. The vastness of the ocean really did help put my own personal struggles in proper perspective, one of the things I loved about living near the water. Lindy used to bring me to the beach anytime I was having a bad day or missing my parents so much I couldn’t breathe.

But I’ve always noticed the whispers more at night, when the waves cresting with the foam on top were less visible, stripping me of one of my senses and forcing me to rely on the ones that remained. It was one of the things I loved most about nights on the shore, mysterious and calm.

“Cold tonight,” Kyle said. She’d grabbed a jacket from her car before we’d headed down. I’d done the same, also draping my favorite green and blue plaid blanket over my crutch from the stash of beach supplies I kept in my trunk for such an occasion. You never knew when you would need a little beach sitting to clear your head or just to take in the beauty of the shoreline.

“The breeze off the water.” I looked over at her, shrugged into a maroon cargo jacket. “Good color on you.” I found a spot, then tossed the blanket, letting the air spread it evenly.

“A compliment? Didn’t see that coming.” She took a seat next to me facing the dark sea.

“See? Not entirely closed and unfeeling.” I bumped her shoulder. I didn’t know if it was the vulnerable moment she’d shared with me earlier or the two martinis that made me feel closer to Kyle, but that familiar connection hovered somewhere close by. I was afraid to look at it head-on.

“No, I’d say you’re kind for saying so. Thank you.” She looked down at her jacket. “This one’s seen me through a lot.” We sat in silence for a moment.

“What was his name? The boy.”

She stared out at the water. “Jacob.”

“His name was Jacob.” I went still. “Jacob’s a good name.” I was someone who believed in coincidences. But the story that changed her year and the story that had changed mine were linked by the same name, and it felt too important to be just that.

“He liked outdoor sports and playing video games with his friends and was counting the days until his family’s annual camping trip to the state park at Myrtle Beach.”

“He sounds like a great kid.” I watched her profile. “And I think he knows you did everything you could.”

She nodded. “I hope so. More than anything.”

“I lost my parents when I was almost twelve.”

“I remember. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”

“The world was upside down. There’s no other way to describe something like that year. When I was in school, after they’d passed, I used to imagine my mom watching my day. I’d imagine her reacting in heaven to how I did on a test or what new friend I’d made. I hoped that she was proud of me, but at some point, I had to stop wishing the accident had never happened and play the hand I’d been dealt.”

She nodded. “I hear the advice coming my way. And you’re right. I can’t change what happened to Jake. That’s what his friends and family called him. But I’m trying to figure out how to be me again.”

“How much more damage are you going to allow that day to do?”

“That’s an interesting way of framing it. I don’t think I’ve come at it from that angle before. It feels unending.”

“It can. But the potential to do good is still right there stretched out in front of you. Don’t deprive the world or yourself of all that’s still left. What do you need to make that happen?”

The wind swept in and flipped up the side of the blanket. It also lifted the strands of hair that framed Kyle’s face. “I want to get past the crippling doubt. I want to get back to medicine as I once knew it.”

“If it helps at all, you seemed to be doing just fine when you treated me.”

“The hospital here is different. The pace. The types of cases. I think it’s been good for me. I like the time I spend there.”

I turned to her fully. “Are you saying you haven’t been back to work until now?”

She winced. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I resigned from the hospital after I was cleared in the investigation. I just didn’t trust myself. I was a wreck.” She dropped her head back and watched what we could see of the stars. “I have you to partly thank for taking the first step.”

“What do I have to do with any of it?”

“You make me want to be better,” she said without hesitation, lifting her head and looking over at me. “Being around you again, even in short spurts, has given me the kick in the ass to try again. This place turned out to be exactly what I needed.”

“We definitely move at a slower pace around here. I imagine the ER is less exciting.”

“But no less important. And maybe the change is the perfect reentry point for me. So, thank you. How’s the foot?”

“It didn’t love the short walk down here.”

“Maybe I should have carried you.” The concept short-circuited my brain. Dr. Remington carrying me down to the beach, protective and in charge. I could live in that kind of fantasy for a long time.

“Maybe you should have.” I met her gaze, and a familiar spark crackled. She didn’t have an answer for that. I’d clearly caught her off guard, which I kind of liked. I didn’t have a map for handling the Kyle and me situation. I knew what she’d done had hurt me, but it wasn’t the worst thing a person could do by any means. Her explanation actually resonated. The problem? It didn’t make me any less afraid. Part of that was on me. My fear of losing, of picking up my heart and figuring out a way to move forward. I was way too familiar with loss and the damage it could do.

“I can forgive you, Kyle. But I’m not sure I can let you back in again. Even if I want to.”

Kyle nodded, solemn and thoughtful. “I completely understand.” We stared out at the mysteries of the ocean. “And do you want to?”

“I don’t think I want to answer that. I’m allowed to plead the Fifth.”

“I’m noting that you didn’t say can’t.”

“No. I didn’t.” A couple walked by, their hands loosely intertwined in that casual, relaxed way people in love often traveled. They looked like they’d been together for some time, comfortable and happy. They probably alternated who cooked dinner on weeknights and planned vacations for the holidays. Two weeks ago, I would have rolled my eyes. I didn’t tonight. Well, look at that . They seemed kind of sweet, actually. Interesting development.

“Why don’t we just see how it goes? You do your thing. I’ll do mine. We’ll see what takes shape. Or what doesn’t.”

“Diplomatic. Does that mean you’re sticking around?” Hope flared. I couldn’t deny it.

“For a while.” She leaned in, and I could smell her watermelon shampoo. I was instantly transported in time. I’d spent a weekend nuzzled into that shampoo once upon a time, the scent burned into my memory for all time. It was all Kyle to me. “And just between us, the new rental doesn’t compare to your place.”

I sat taller, ordering myself into the present. “Yeah? That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“It won’t be. I promise.”

This was getting entirely too dangerous. I made a show of hugging myself, tossing in a shiver for good measure. “We should probably get out of here before the temperature drops any lower.”

“C’mon. It’s autumn on this beach. It’s supposed to be chilly.”

“Maybe so, but it’s also a weeknight.” I began the process of standing up with a wrapped foot and crutches, which took way more effort than I would have imagined a week ago. Kyle was quickly on her feet assisting me.

“There you go,” she said, gathering our belongings and the blanket. “Looking like a champ with those things.”

“Crutches are from Satan. He invented them.” I paused. “Does that make you Satan’s helper?”

“That’s a little harsh, but I admit crutches are a pain. Piggyback ride?”

I was already walking. Correction, hobbling . “I’m good, thank you.”

“My car’s a little closer. I can drive you to yours.”

“Again, I’m all right.”

“Why won’t you let me help?” she asked from my right. She’d caught up easily, because I moved like a sloth on these things.

“Because I don’t want…”

“Me to get the wrong idea?” she asked resolutely.

“Yeah,” I said, hating the look I’d just put in her eye.

“Yeah. No. Trust me. I won’t.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Thank you for listening to me tonight.”

I paused and turned to her. “Thank you for the insight into your last year. I realize you didn’t have to tell me everything that you did.”

“I wanted to.” She tilted her head. “Anyway. Have a nice night, Savanna.”

“You, too.”

Kyle remained on the curb near her black Audi while I covered the fifty extra yards to my car. I felt silly, realizing she was watching me lose steam as my tired arms turned to jelly. This really was a brutal workout, and I regretted my stubbornness fairly quickly. Maybe it was time I learned how to loosen my grip a little bit, and try and accept the fact that the world was not out to get me.

“Tall order,” I mumbled. I slid into the driver’s seat side with a small thud. My foot throbbed. My ego was bruised. My heart hung confused as hell.

* * *

Every bottle at Dreamers and Schemers, the town’s only true liquor store, seemed to come with its own personality. Honey brown whiskeys in bottles of all shapes and sizes lined one wall, while tall crisp, clear spirits decorated the shelves across the way. Even the labels battled for attention, some in silvers, golds, or bright eye-catching colors. The wide variety made a striking display.

I knew all of this because I’d been perusing the aisles for much longer than the average customer. The impetus? Charlie Kielbasa managed the store, who, in all likelihood, was also my half brother. The idea of a sibling was still so strange. It toyed with the only-child identity I’d claimed my whole life, right along with orphan. Still reeling from the news that neither was entirely true had me wandering the store for the occasional glimpse of Charlie, a man I’d paid very little attention to beyond an occasional hello at town functions.

“Have you tried the Tennessee Honey?”

“Hmm?” I asked, swiveling, hands on my hips. “Oh, the whiskey drink? I mean the whiskey? The flavor right there? That one. Yep. I mean, no. No. Can’t say I have. Do you, um, recommend it?” This might be your brother. This might be your brother. This is likely your brother. He has your eye shape.

“It depends on what you like. The honey flavor definitely softens the bite of the alcohol.” He squinted as if trying to give me a read. “Are you more of a purist?”

“I’m more of a martini girl, but I’m open minded.”

“My favorite kind of customer.” Then Charlie did something remarkable. He leapt onto the nearby rolling ladder and rode it down the aisle à la Belle from Beauty and the Beast . I watched in amused captivation as he skated a good twenty feet. Charlie hopped off with more grace than I would have assigned him and grabbed a small bottle. “Apple Cinnamon Sipper. Perfect for fall, and fitting for a martini drinker looking to try the brown stuff, with a little bit of a buffer.”

That actually didn’t sound bad at all. I accepted the small bottle. “Sold! You know your stuff, Charlie.”

“That’s why they pay me such a very small salary around here.” He added a laugh to what was a joke he’d likely told before.

I liked him. I really did. And our rapport was good. I wondered if he had any idea about our potential connection. Had he heard similar rumors about his dad and my mom? And even if he had, it didn’t mean he’d imagine anything or anyone had come of their relationship.

“Anything else for you today?”

“I think you’ve got me all set up.”

“I’ll carry this to the front for you.” Charlie gestured to the one crutch I was still using a week after the sprain. “And stay off that ladder. You look like you’re not at full speed just yet. Was real sorry to hear about the fall.”

I followed him to the cash register, my hands shaking. “You did? I had no idea it would be major news.”

“Are you kidding? Folks around here love you and everything you’ve done with the grocery store.”

“That’s really nice to hear.” I had received quite a few texts and calls checking in on my pain level and to see if I needed anything. Mrs. Martinelli had dropped a hash brown casserole on my doorstep with an adorable illustration of her dog, Henry. Maya brought me a stuffed animal that doubled as a heating pad when placed in the microwave. Even Kyle had sent multiple texts to check on my pain level.

“Hey, how’s Jacob doing?”

“My dad? Oh, he refuses to get his eyes checked. I watch him squint at the TV, but he’s too damn proud to go to the optometrist. I’m not done fighting, though.”

I shifted my weight away from my sore foot, but I was smiling. That little detail made me imagine them bickering the way I likely would be with my parents if they were still alive. I missed out on that adult relationship. I wondered what it would be like to have them walk through the grocery store, wave, smile, and steal an update session before buying their weekly haul. Maybe I had a chance for something adjacent now.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get through to him somehow,” I told Charlie. “Give Jill a hug for me.”

“You got it. And let me know what you think of that whiskey sipper.”

“You got it, Charlie.”

I left the store still off balance, but a little lighter than when I’d gone in.

“And how are you doing after seeing him, knowing who he may be to you?” Jonathan asked from my kitchen. He’d recently got his hair trimmed, which always motivated him to toss it a great deal more and spend time in the kitchen, perfecting his stir-fry recipe. I’d never known anyone who got such invigoration from a haircut but was happy I was about to reap the benefits for dinner.

“He’s a good guy. Our brief conversation just reinforced that. You know how you get a feeling from someone, often good or bad? I already liked him but left somehow reassured. If he is related to me, I could do a whole lot worse, you know? What’s wrong?”

Jonathan’s face had gone still as he stared at his phone. “It’s the guy I’ve been talking to online.”

“Calling you?”

He nodded. “He’s too successful, attractive, and emotionally available to be interested in me.”

“Answer the phone.”

“I don’t think I can do it.” He dropped the phone on the counter like a scalding hot pan. I immediately picked it up, slid onto the call, and grinned. “Jon’s phone. This is his friend, Savanna.”

“Is he around? This is Christian.”

I made a show of looking around the kitchen. “He’s around here somewhere. Yes. Christian, you say? Sure, lemme see if I can grab him, Christian.” I liked saying his name. I hit mute and grinned. “He sounds nice. Very rich voice. Pretty sure he’s ripped.” I gestured to my abs.

“He is both. Which is exactly why he’s not going to be into me. I should avoid him and save myself the heartbreak when he realizes he’s out of my league.”

“Wrong. You’re adorable, dashing, and smart. Now, use words in order.” I offered him the phone, prepared to handle the call if he truly didn’t want to speak.

Jonathan stared at me and then seemed to make a decision.

“You got this,” I whispered and whacked him on the shoulder, imagining that’s what guys did for each other, with no idea why I thought he needed that. But it worked! He took both the phone and a deep breath.

“Hi, it’s me,” he said. A grin took over his face until it reached his eyes, making them crinkle slightly on the sides. Perfect.

My heart went pitter-patter at the way he seemed to melt.

“Well, it’s nice to hear your voice, too.”

Then I watched him conduct the cutest, most thoughtful six-minute conversation while I stirred his veggies and mentally cheered him on. Jonathan’s cheeks were pink as he walked in lazy circles around the kitchen, his forearm crutches abandoned because his pain was well managed today. I hoped to lose mine soon, as well.

When he clicked off the call, I whirled around. “That went well, I think.”

His eyes were wide. “It did, right? Not just me.”

“No. Not just you. You were on . Charming, even. What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to get together on Thursday. He lives about fifteen miles away in Miller’s Point.”

“That’s close!” I was excited. Even in the midst of my own disdain for romance, Jonathan’s news silenced every bitter thought I might have had. He was my best friend, and nothing would stop me cheerleading till the cows came home. “You have a red hot date.”

He laughed. “I guess I do.”

“An illicit meet-up.”

“We’ll see.”

“A date-a-rooney.”

He winced. “Really?”

I straightened. “No. Who says that?” I asked with an amused smile. “No one with an engagement to get to next week.”

He sauced the meal and looked over at me, a gleam in his eye. “We’re really out there doing it. Living our lives. Me, having a shot with Christian, and a gorgeous doctor sweeping into town to find you.”

Fear flared as it always did at post-bridge Kyle mentions, but I smothered it. “And MJ. She wants a second date.”

He turned to me with a frown. “Are you legit interested? I thought maybe Kyle would dim the shine on all others.”

“Kyle made quite the impression. It’s true. But don’t laugh when I say it’s got to be water under the bridge.”

He leaned back against the counter and pointed at me with the spatula. “You said that she explained why she wasn’t there, and that her reasoning resonated.”

I nodded, found a large spoon in my drawer, and gestured back. “True. And I can forgive her for standing me up. But that doesn’t mean I want to risk feeling that way all over again if things don’t work out.”

“That’s a risk with any relationship.”

“Which is maybe why I’m seeking out companionship that comes with lower stakes.”

“This is pitiful, Savvy. You’re choosing the MJ route because she doesn’t make you feel anything. I know you’ve been dealt some hard knocks in your life, but I don’t think I grasped the extent of their effects.”

I handed him two plates for the food. “Yeah, well, tada.” I offered one halfhearted jazz hand, probably as pitiful as my tale.

He plated the stir-fry in generous heaps and silently carried our meals to the couch, where we always ate. The table felt too regular. I regarded him over my dinner.

“What’s on your mind?”

“This isn’t who you are, dark and depressing.”

I shrugged and took a bite. “Maybe it’s who I am now. Do you realize you’re literally the only person I’ve ever loved who I haven’t lost?” Emotion in the form of a painful lump rose in my throat. “I’m not saying I was in love with Kyle after one weekend, but I’ve never had feelings like those, Jonathan. Nothing even close, and when it all went sideways, I was back to losing someone important to me all over again.”

“And so recently after we lost Lindy,” he said, as if the pieces were clicking into place. “She was always your soft place to fall.”

“Now that’s you. I love you, Jonathan, and this is me, falling.”

He set his plate on the coffee table, pulled me in, and kissed the top of my head. “I love you, too,” he said quietly. We sat like that for a few long moments before he looked down at me. “Just keep an open mind, okay? You don’t have to leap if you don’t want to leap. But don’t close yourself off to the possibility of leaping someday.”

I sniffled, feeling safe and protected. “I’ll work on keeping an open mind.”

“That-a-girl. Now, let’s eat stir-fry and find some trash TV to make us feel better about ourselves.”

“You’re on.” My happy place had been activated. Sitting next to my best friend, I let the world and all of its stresses fall away. If nothing else, I had a date with MJ to look forward to and a pair of crutches I was incredibly close to ditching. Then there was Jacob and Charlie Kielbasa. I could explore getting to know them. Or not. I had options. The soap opera doctor refused to be excluded from my brain, so I admitted that Kyle was also an option.

“You’ll be very proud of me.”

He paused our show and peered over at me. “Why is that?”

“My mind is open.”