Good Intentions (Welcome to Paradise) (Volume 2) (6 page)

A tear escapes as I continue this most foreign of acts—saying a prayer.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way you deserved, how you wanted, how you needed. There was nobody else, like you thought, but my heart was too young. Your death shouldn’t have been the thing that made me recognize your love for what it was—kind and trusting. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the same. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.’

With this most simple of acts, a prayer and apology, I feel a change. I start to heal, just a tad.

I rinse out my mouth and brush my teeth. I wash my face and dry it and look in the mirror once again hoping to find someone else, a better version of myself.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you, Lani. But I can be there for Mallory and I’m not going to lose her this time.’
Feeling more focused than I’ve felt in a long time, I’ve been hoping for this new beginning for years and I won’t waste another minute.

I’m solid and motivated. I pick my keys up and run up the path to my car. The party is over and the guests have long gone. So I back out of the driveway and speed down the road. It’s past 2 a.m. and the streets are empty, hopefully the cops are sleeping on the job.

I drive fast in the still of the night to my best friends’ house, causing a dust storm on the dirt driveway when I brake suddenly, throwing my car into park. I jump out and rush to the door. I have ten feet to go when I spot Zach and Murphy sitting on the dark front porch. Zach cocks his rifle and stands, aiming it right at me. “Hold it right there, son,” he says with a put-on southern drawl.

I halt in my tracks, hands up automatically like I’m the bad guy and I’ve been busted. “What the fuck? Is that a rifle, Zach?”

He keeps it steadily pointed at me. “It’s actually a 70
th
anniversary Daisy Red Ryder BB gun with original lariat and lead BB’s,” he says, stroking the toy gun proudly.

“Whatever, dude,” I shift, dropping my arms to my sides. “Where’s Mallory? Is she asleep?”

Murphy steps forward as I start walking toward them again. He crosses his arms across his chest like a huge bouncer, and says, “I’m sorry, dude, but you won’t be able to see her tonight. You both need to sober up and have this discussion with clear heads.”

“I’m not fucking around. You know I need to talk to her, to explain Lani.”

Murphy holds his position. “Katie’s orders. I can take you any day, but I’m scared shitless when my girl is mad at me. So it’s a no-go for tonight.”

I stop and look between them several times. I’m pissed. I’m frustrated. “I’m serious. This isn’t funny anymore, guys. I really need to see her. I need to talk to her, to tell her everything. She’s probably in there thinking I’m a murderer.”

I walk forward again, and Zach says, “I’m warning you, Evan. Don’t come any closer or I’ll have to shoot.”

I walk closer not heeding his warning, and mock him, “You’re gonna shoot me with your toy…
Fuck!
That hurt! You shot me in the damn hip, you, asshole.” I grab my hip, putting pressure on it to try and stop the stinging.

“I warned you,” Zach says with pride, stroking the barrel of the BB gun one time before lowering it.

Murphy laughs and says, “He did warn you.”

“You guys suck cock! Will you at least ask her if she’ll come out here and talk to me?”

“No can do. Like I said, we were given strict orders to protect this house and the cargo inside aka,
the girls
, from you. You can come back tomorrow. Not early because I’m really hoping for some action tonight and we’ll want to sleep in—”

“Shut-up, Murphy! That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, forgot about that.” He smirks again and then rubs it in. “You got one hot-assed sister, man.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore. You’re dead to me,” I say this with a straight face, but he knows deep down I’m kidding with him.

I focus my last ditch efforts on Zach, the reasonable one of the group. “Zach, can you help a brother out? I’m dying here. She’s my…” I stop and look down embarrassed by what I almost admitted.

But he encourages me. “She’s your what, Evan? Tell us.”

I look him in the eyes and know I’m making headway. He has a kind nature and is a romantic at heart. I open my mouth and tell them both the truth. “She’s everything I never thought I’d find in a girl. I love her.” My voice unintentionally softens as I say these words aloud for the third time ever. The first time was while she was sleeping, so she never heard and the second time was at the party in front of everyone. One day I hope to say to her directly and only her.

They both smile at me like two chicks
oohing
and
ahhing
over this confession which is totally humiliating and not manly at all. “I suggest you tell her that,” Zach says. “But it has to wait until tomorrow. It’s best this way. Kate has already explained the situation to her.”

“I open up to you assholes and you still don’t let me in. Fuck you, guys,” I say, flipping them each a bird and stomp back to my car. I get in, slam the door closed, and pound my fists on my steering wheel three times. That’s when I see my phone on the passenger seat and immediately call her. It goes straight to voicemail, so I text her:
I need to talk to you. Please.
I call it a night at that. There’s nothing more I can do at this point and I don’t like leaving Zach’s place unrewarded, but I do it anyway. Time is the only thing that can bring us back together and I’m counting every second.

Thinking I’ve lost her eats away at me. On the drive back, I’m tortured by these negative thoughts. By the time I get back home, I’ve managed to pull out some of my hair and am fighting back tears, which really pisses me off.

I sit on my back door step and inhale two cigarettes, trying to relax my nerves before I climb into bed. I’m desperate to will this nightmare to end. In bed, I lay with visions of Mallory to comfort me: Mallory’s lips, Mallory’s smile, the light sprinkling of freckles across Mallory’s nose, kissing her belly button, Mallory’s hands, and Mallory’s hands on me.

“Dude, wake up!”

I hear my subconscious yell at me.

“C’mon, the swells are ripe this morning.”

Apparently, my subconscious wants to go surfing.

“Open the door, Dude!”

I bolt upright.

Zach.

My eyes are blurry and heavy, not ready for the day, but my heart is racing not only from being startled awake, but because it’s morning. Morning means Mallory. I run to the door, unlocking it, and fling it open in hopes of seeing true beauty standing next to my best friend.

“Ech! It’s just you,” I say, distaste filling my mouth.

Zach grins. “Yeah, thanks. Grab your stick. Let’s go.”

I grab a t-shirt off the floor and shake my head while scrounging around the place for some shorts. “Can’t. I need to talk with Mallory. This shouldn’t really be a surprise to you.”

“You can’t,” he says as if I should know this already.

I stop and look at him. “Why can’t I?”

Zach rubs his hands over his unshaven face and hesitantly says, “Because she’s gone. I mean, she already left my pad this morning.”

“Okay, so I’ll go to Sunny’s.”

“They’re not there. They’re out today, so grab your board and c’mon.”

As my stomach twists, I look at him beneath a furrowed brow and can tell he’s hiding something from me. “Spit it out, dude. Where is she?”

He fidgets with the blinds then pulls them open. I squint from the brightness of the sunshine flooding my place.

“Zach, just say it.” I’m getting really pissed off.

“They went to the Southern Shore Finals.”

“Why would they…” I close my eyes, rubbing over them with the palms of my hand. “
Noah?
”

I hear Zach sigh in resolve. “Umm, you know, I don’t think that’s the reason. Sunny mentioned that Mallory had told Noah she would go a while back, but I really think they went because it’s such a big event and Johnny invited them.”

“She never told me.” My mind is spinning wildly through images of her being dragged behind him… away from me last night.

I find a pair of trunks on the floor of my closet and strip off my boxers before pulling them on.

“I really doubt she’s going for Kalei or maybe she didn’t get a chance to tell you with all that happened last—”

“She told me she’d be spending more time with him. I guess that’s what she meant.” I bite the inside of my cheek in frustration, debating what I should do now.

“It’s not exactly illicit. She’s with Sunny and he’s gonna be busy with the contest. Gotta say, you know he’s going to revel in the fact that she’s there.”

“Yep,” I say, knotting the drawstring and grabbing my board. “I need to think. I need to hit some waves.”

…

An hour later, the waves have flat-lined. We sit atop the glassy surface of the water, boards under us, legs dangling in the water, isolated by fifty yards or more between us and the next surfer.

Zach lies down on his board and closes his eyes. “This sucks.”

“You can say that again.”

“This sucks.”

I roll my eyes. “What happened at your house last night?”

“Well, I was making sweet love to my woman and then she did this thing with her tongue—”

I lift my foot up under the water and tip him off his board. As soon as he breaks the surface, he yells, “Fucker.”

“Don’t fucking torture me. Tell me, Z!”

As he climbed onto his board again, he says, “Kate told her about Lani. She seemed to understand. Noah’s bitter and upset. He used you as a scapegoat.”

“There’s no changing the fact that I let her die.”

“No, you didn’t,” he says, paddling closer, facing me as I stare out at the horizon. “She drowned, man. You couldn’t have saved her. You tried.”

“I shouldn’t have let her surf. She wasn’t ready—”

“You teach people for an hour and then send them out into the water every day. Why would she be any different? You can’t stop the perfect storm. You couldn’t predict a wave would place her right over that sinkhole. The best swimmer would find it hard to fight that.”

“I should have been paying closer attention. I should have been there.”

“Listen, Evan. You can beat yourself up for another four years or you can start living the life you were supposed to live in the first place. You can deny it all you want, but I know that a lot of what eats you up is that you didn’t love her. Yeah, sure, you liked her, but she loved you and you feel guilty for not loving her back.”

“I don’t want to talk about his.” I turn around and dig in, ready to paddle to shore, but he grabs the rail of my board.

“Too bad! I’m tired of this shit messing with your head. Get it out.”

“What do you want me to say?” I’m frustrated and push away from him. “I’m outta here.”

“You can paddle away, but we’re going to talk about this.” I stop paddling and rest my cheek on my board lulled by the feel of the gentle waves that are starting to build again below me. Zach moves closer and almost in a whisper, says, “Her death is not your fault, Evan. You couldn’t have saved her.”

I sit up abruptly, pointing at him, and yell, “I’m a fucking surf instructor. I’m CPR certified. I should’ve been able to and I should have never given her the board.” Frustrated with myself, I hit the board under me. “Fuck! The truth is that I was going to break up with her. I’d been planning it that whole week. I bought that board as a consolation prize, hoping it would ease the blow of the break-up, but I hadn’t found the right time to say the words.” I close my eyes and remember how happy she was when she saw the surfboard. “She made me take her surfing right then. The waves were big, too rough. I knew better and yet I let her paddle out. Heck, I also paddled out wanting to rip it up.” I look at him. Zach’s face is calm, non-judgmental, so I continue as he listens. “By the time I reached the shore, I didn’t see her. That’s when I saw the board spiraling around that sinkhole; that fucking sinkhole that wasn’t there two days earlier.”

“You can’t fight fate, E. It was her time.” He paddles to stay even with me, and adds, “The lawsuit was settled over three years ago. Now it’s time you settle it in your mind.”