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“Which ferry are you taking back?” I ask in between bites.
“I’m not sure, gonna play it by ear. If it’s nice, we can hit the beach first.”
“Yes, beach,” I concur. It stops raining, and the sun has come out from hiding. I can just about see it setting over the bay. Yes, I can use some beach time with my bestie and do absolutely nothing.
“Call me when you decide if you’re going to work at all this summer,” Brenda shouts down from the top of the ferry.
“Okay, text me later,” I yell back. She disappears from my view.
I turn and walk back toward the cottage. I am debating if I should go back early as well. It’s not as much fun by myself, and there’s no one here to play with. Well, no one I want to play with at least. Any friends from when I was growing up have either moved away or their parents sold their summer houses. Now, it’s new families with their young kids taking over the beach.
Chase still isn’t back, and he’s only here until Sunday anyway. With my sulking period over, I am now bored. And as much as I hate to say it, there is only so much beach I can take. Working would be a good distraction, and I can use the money.
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I’m lucky that I can take these vacations. I’ve been dorming for the past six years and spent the summers at home. My mom told me that with the pension she gets from my father she can pay for an apartment for about a year. She wants me to get a good job and save as much as I can. I have until then before I have to start fending for myself, so anything I can save now would be fantastic.
I still haven’t decided what I want to do with my degree. I applied with the NYSDEC, NOAA and Atlantis Marine World, but I haven’t heard anything back from any of them. I have been looking at apartments too, but I can’t choose one until I know where I’m working. I get back to the cottage and decide to head to the mainland on Monday.
The next few days I spend relaxing on the beach. Chase hasn’t returned. I wonder if I was just some kind of conquest, or if he’ll actually be back before I leave. I haven’t received any messages from his buddies next door either. He would be leaving tomorrow, so it’s pointless to come back now. I regret not giving him my cell number. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.
I lie on the beach and replay all of the events from the past couple of weeks. I can’t help but think about the way he makes me feel special and wanted. He puts me into his sexual thrall; his kisses are like shockwaves down my body sending spikes of pleasure everywhere. I know he felt it too. It’s like electricity when we touch, a charge I can feel. He is everything I want in a man. The only thing that bothers me is that he was brought up rich. Not that anyone can tell as he’s very polite and doesn’t flaunt his wealth.
I just don’t know if I can fit into that world. I like that he wants to spend money on me, but I don’t know if I can be comfortable with that on a permanent basis. I was brought up to not take charity from anyone, to work hard for what I have. I never want to become dependent on anyone, ever. Even with Evan, he wouldn’t have made enough money for us to have lived comfortably. Well, there really is no reason for me to worry about this now. There’s no sign of Chase.
I start to straighten up the cottage. I place an ad in the local paper to rent out the house for the rest of the summer, and a charming family picks it up for two weeks. Another family that I know from here had friends that were looking for a house, so they pick up two weeks as well.
My mom used to take care of renting the cottage out for the last two weeks of the summer, but since my father died, she wants no part of the beach. It’s sad. We spent so many fantastic times here, but she can’t get past it. All she sees are ghosts. So now I have the responsibility of making sure it’s rented for the season. At least the weeks I’m not here. At twenty five hundred dollars a week, the extra two weeks income will be a pleasant surprise for her.
I pack up anything I brought with me, which doesn’t amount to much. I clean out the fridge and pantry, straighten out the bedrooms. By Monday, this place will look like no one had been here all summer. I opt to take a break, grab a beer, and head outside.
The sun has started to set and the color of the sky is spectacular. I sigh. I look out over the ocean and watch the waves roll onto the beach below. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s time to get back to reality. I can always come back over for a day or two before the summer is over. Maybe next year, I’ll have someone to share this amazing view with.
The girl working the ferry helps me load all of my crap onto the ten forty five. It’s another beautiful day, but I need to go home. I still have my mom to deal with. Ugh. I head up to the top of the Nicolet and sit. I haven’t spoken to her since before Evan and I split up. This is not going to be a fun conversation. She really likes Evan, I mean REALLY likes him. He was always very cordial and overly polite to her. I think in some ways Evan reminds her of my father. They don’t look similar, but they do have some of the same mannerisms.
I’m sure she’ll find a way to blame me for our ultimate demise. I’m not going to dwell on it though. I choose to take the high road and just focus on the water.
We dock back in Patchogue, and I wheel all of my belongings over to my Jeep. I have a green 2007 Jeep Wrangler Sahara. I love convertibles and I love trucks, so I combined the two with this beast. It’s a four door that makes it easy to get my books and other crap in and out of the truck.
I unlock the Jeep and throw my possessions into the back seat. I unzip the windows and sides of the soft top and roll it down. I love driving the Jeep with the top down. I have a hard top for it, but I never get around to putting it back on for the winter. Once the top is down, I climb in. Starting the truck, I turn the radio on, pull out of the lot, and head to face the inevitable uncomfortable conversation that awaits me at home.
I pull into my driveway to see that my mom’s car isn’t here. Whew. Crisis averted for now, but I can’t avoid her forever. I grab my stuff and drag it into the house. I go into the kitchen and look around for any sign of where she might have gone. I’m sure she’ll be back soon, so I take a nice long hot shower.
I come out of the bathroom and change. Grab a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and make my way into the kitchen. My mother is sitting at the kitchen island waiting for me.
“Hi,” I say, wary.
“Hi.” Her voice is cool, her expression guarded and unreadable.
“When did you get home?” I ask.
“Just now.” I walk around her to the fridge and grab a soda. “Why haven’t you called me?” she asks sounding wounded.
“Oh, Mom, I didn’t want to talk about it. I still don’t. Please just let it go, I’m fine,” I plead, but I know she isn’t going to let this go.
“But honey, you ran away. What did Evan do that was so bad? He’s such a nice boy.”
“Mom, please just let it go.”
