The Private Serials Box Set (25 page)

   “It really is beautiful here,” she said, not taking her eyes off the ocean.  I’d only known her a short time, but this was the first instance where I heard anything but bubbly sweetness in her voice.  She sounded introspective and a little sullen, almost as if the beauty she was referring to wasn’t just the scenery.

   “Yeah, it is,” was my response, but it seemed inadequate.  Her mood had me worried.

   Then, suddenly, she turned to me with the smile I was becoming accustomed to and said excitedly, “I bought a TV and it’s being delivered in a few minutes.  I thought we could have a roomie movie night and christen our new pad.”

   And just like that, she was back to normal.

   “That sounds awesome.”

   That evening, one of the things I learned about Becky was that she was the kind of girl who, when packing her things to move to the other side of the country, brought her
Friends
DVD collection with her.

   “It goes where I go,” she said with a laugh as she loaded the first DVD.  We’d spent a few hours watching Ross pine after Rachel, eating take-out, and munching on some popcorn I’d purchased for the event.  We even had some cheap, girly beer.  I was enjoying myself, and loved getting to know Becky better, but the whole situation made me miss Sam, too.

   “So,” Becky said, throwing a piece of popcorn in the air and then catching it in her mouth.  “Why did you leave Portland?”

   “I needed a new beginning.  A fresh start.”

   “That’s the impersonal response you give to the girl you just met at a coffee shop,” she said, sounding almost insulted.  “Tell me the real reason.”  She was looking straight into my eyes, like she genuinely wanted to know, and more so, she seemed like she cared about my answer.  For the first time in weeks, I was compelled to tell someone else about my ruined life back in Portland.

   “I was married, am still, in fact.  At least I think so.  I haven’t signed any papers.  Anyway,” I exhaled, pushing out a breath and pulling my hand through my hair, trying to build up the nerve to say the words.  “I was in a bad marriage and made some bad decisions.  My husband found out and took everything from me. It’s actually pretty complicated.”

   “He didn’t, like, hit you, did he?”

   “No, he didn’t hit me, but he wasn’t a very good husband.”

   “Well, what were your bad decisions?”

   “I had an affair.”

   “Hmm.”

   We were both quiet for a while.  She was probably thinking I was a horrible person, but my mind was torturing me with images of Preston and all the times he’d pretended to care.

   “So, what happened with the guy you had the affair with?”

   “What do you mean?”

   “I mean, why aren’t you with him now?”

   It took me a moment to formulate my answer, but I finally settled on, “He didn’t want me after all.”

   “I find that really hard to believe.”

    “Well, that’s the funny thing about good liars, they’re easy to believe.”

   “Obviously I don’t know the situation, but I would venture to guess he’s torn up that you’re not with him.”  She was looking at me with concern, her eyes soft and imploring.

   I sighed.  “You’re sweet, Becky, but he’s not thinking about me.  He probably hasn’t spent one second thinking about me since I left.”

   “Impossible,” she stated firmly, as if it were a fact she was sure of.

   I smiled at her because, really, I appreciated her kind words, but thinking about Preston just made my heart hurt that much more.

   “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

   “You don’t want to watch any more
Friends
?”

   “Maybe tomorrow.”  I climbed off the couch and started walking toward my bedroom.

   “Lena,” Becky called from the living room.

   “Yeah?”  I stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned back to her.

   “Do me a favor?  Don’t give up on him.  That guy back in Portland.  Just,” she paused and bit her lip, “don’t give up hope yet.”

   I laughed, but it was a sad, pathetic laugh.  “Becky, in order to give up hope, I would have had to have some to begin with.  And I didn’t.  There was never any hope for Preston and me.  It was over before it began, and he’s probably somewhere tricking someone else into believing his lies.”

   “Well, I hope someday you find out you’re mistaken,” she said sweetly, like she really wanted what she was saying to be true.

   “Goodnight, Becky.”

   “Night, Lena.”

   Weeks passed and life started to take on a new “normal.”  I started my job, easing my way into a new position, trying to learn as much as I could and impress the people working around me.  There were a few women who I worked with who seemed friendly and had extended invitations to me to hang out after work for happy hour.  I always declined, telling them I had plans already, but in reality I wasn’t sure about letting new people get close to me.

   Sam and I spoke on the phone every once in a while, but even though I missed her terribly, I could never bring myself to fully open up to her.  There was a clear division in my mind between my old life and my new life, and I couldn’t fully convince my head to let Sam into the new.

   Becky was the one constant in my life that brought me a sense of familiarity and routine. 

   She got a job on the island working for the newspaper in advertising.  We both had a regular nine-to-five job and so, after a week or two, we started to resemble an old married couple.  We’d both come home from work, eat dinner, and then hang out in the living room either watching TV, reading, and sometimes she talked me into playing games.

   After our first delve into personal topics, she never really pressured me for any more information.  Also, she wasn’t very forthcoming about herself either, and that was totally okay with me.  We could spend time together and not have to talk about our pasts.  In fact, it was encouraged.

   Every morning I got up early to run.  I still found it cathartic and craved that time when my mind emptied out and I let myself simply
be
.  Plus, nothing beat running on the beach in Hawaii.  I ran without music, simply listening to the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, the sounds of the sand moving beneath my feet. 

   There were always other people out running and there was a polite courtesy amongst us runners to just nod as we passed each other, if looking at them at all.  Most of the time, I tried to keep my eyes on the sand or out at the horizon.

   This morning, however, another runner had other plans.

   He jogged toward me and I saw him coming.  I veered toward the water, trying to give him enough room, sticking to my side of the ‘road,’ staying to the right.  But instead of a polite nod, he gave me a bright smile.  I smiled back, instinctively, but then looked down to the sand.  Then I noticed he slowed and stopped jogging about twenty feet in front of me.  I slowed, not sure if I was supposed to stop as well, or if I should start jogging in the other direction.  Before I could decide, he spoke.

   “You run every morning.”  He smiled as he said the words and there was something familiar about him that I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

   “Yes.”  It was a sort-of answer to his sort-of question.

   “You should take a break.  A day off every now and then.  I see you every morning and wonder why you aren’t ever tired.”

   I tilted my head to the side, squinting my eyes at him.  “If you see me every morning, that means you run every morning.  Perhaps you should take your own advice.”  I pushed off and made it past him when his hand grabbed my arm.

   “I’m sorry,” I heard him say as I wrenched my arm from his grasp.  I turned on him and his hands were up as if he were surrendering.  “I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”  He took a step toward me and I took one back.  “What’s your name?”

   I narrowed my eyes at him.

   “Well, my name’s Ryan.  I just thought, since we both run on this beach every morning, maybe you’d like a running partner.”

   “I run alone.”

   “I noticed.”  He just stood there, staring at me, waiting for me to say something else.

   “I don’t need a running partner.”

   “Everyone runs better when they do it with someone.  You need a partner to push you, take you out of your zone.  You’d get better results.”

   I put my hands on my hips, letting my annoyance take over.  “I don’t run for
results
.  I run to clear my mind, to find clarity, to let my brain breathe for a minute.”

   “Well, we could still run together.  I like to run with a partner better, and you’re the only one I’ve seen who I think could keep up with my pace and be reliable.”

   “You’ve been scouting me?”

   He chuckled.  “I suppose.  Come on.  It’s just running.”

   “I’m just going to continue to run on this beach.  I can’t control what you do.”  I turned and continued to run down the beach, and only a small smile came across my face when Ryan took up pace next to me.

   We ran like that, side-by-side, for another mile or so, and then I sharply turned around, heading back the way I came.  I heard him laughing, but after a few moments, he was at my side again.

   When I made it back to the path I normally took to get from my apartment to the beach, I stopped and placed my hands on my knees, taking in deep, ragged, breaths.  Perhaps Ryan was right, running with him had pushed me.

   “Can I run with you tomorrow?  Same time, same place?”

   His words caught me off guard, echoing the same words Sam and I had always said about our coffee shop.

   “Are you all right?” he asked, noticing the shocked look on my face.

   “Yeah, I mean, yes.  I’m fine.” I shook my head, trying to rid my brain of thoughts of Sam.  I straightened my shoulders and looked him in the eyes.  “I run every morning at the same time.  I can’t control when and where you run.”

   He chuckled, and again something familiar yelled at me from the very back of my mind.  “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”  With that, he turned and ran back the way we’d come.

   “Hey,” I yelled after a few moments.  He turned and continued jogging backward, his smile still plastered across his face.  “My name’s Lena.”

   He gave me a small salute and then turned back around, disappearing along the horizon.

Chapter Four

   For a week, every morning, Ryan met me where the path met the sand and we ran.  For the first two days, he didn’t say a word to me, just followed my lead, running along next to me.  I could tell every once in a while he picked up his speed, causing me to run a little faster to keep up.  When I was ready to go back, I’d just turn around and he’d follow suit.  No questions, no conversation, just running.

   On the third day, when I came upon him, he was on the phone.  I awkwardly tried not to listen to his conversation, seeing as how I didn’t even really know him, so I started running without him. 

   A few minutes later, he caught up with me, out of breath from sprinting.

   “Sorry about that,” he rasped as he came to run beside me.  “That was my sister.  She’s the baby in the family, so when she calls, I answer.  Lord knows what kind of trouble she can get herself into.”

   I didn’t turn to look at him, but I did answer.  “Is everything okay?”  I don’t know why I asked; it didn’t matter to me one way or another.  Except, it kind of did.  I didn’t know him, but I sort of cared if something bad had happened to someone in his family.  I could see him from the corner of my eye as he turned to me with that brilliant smile again.

   “She’s fine.  Just chatty.”

   With that, we picked up our quiet running routine.  We ran and ran.  I almost forgot he was there, that is, until all of a sudden I heard him swear and then the unmistakable sound of someone’s face slamming into sand.

   I stopped and turned to see him, sure enough, face planted in the sand.

   “Oh, my God, are you all right?”  I ran back to him as he started to pull himself from the sand.

   “Yeah,” he groaned, sand falling from his mouth as he spat it out.  The sand was stuck to the entire top half of his body, getting plastered to him from the sweat he’d built up from the run.  He looked like a legitimate sand monster and I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in my throat.

   And then I was laughing. 

   And laughing.

   Laughing so loud and so hard I had to sit down, holding my belly.

   Laughing until there were tears running down my face.

   Laughing for so long I must have looked crazy.

   Laughing until it became apparent to me that I was no longer laughing at Ryan and his sand covered body, but laughing as a release, laughing at what had become of my life, where I’d ended up.

   “I’m sorry,” I said through hiccups as I started to come down from my hysterics.

   “You’re a little wacko,” Ryan said, not hurtfully.

   I turned my head to look at him and noticed he’d taken a seat on the sand right next to me.  Most of the sand was wiped from his face, except for the granules stuck in his bushy eyebrows.  This was the first time I’d allowed myself to really look at him.  Sand aside, he was an attractive man.  Dark eyes, dark hair, strong jawline.  I also noticed, even though he’d run without a shirt every day, that he had a magnificent body.  In a normal circumstance, a woman would look at his chest and it would cause all kinds of fluttering to happen.  I would take in his muscled body and find myself attracted to him.  Any hot-blooded, straight woman would.

   But I didn’t and I was more than okay with that.

   “That’s the first time I’ve laughed in months.  Like, really, honest-to-goodness laughter.”

   “If I’d known I just had to eat some sand to break you open, I would have done it sooner.”

   I thought about his words for a moment.  “Well, I don’t think it would have worked before now.  It’s time, I think.”

   “For?”

   I shrugged.  “Time to pick myself up and dust myself off.”

   “You and me both,” he said, laughing.