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His voice carries a warmth that eases my nerves, and I remember no one has ever had my back quite like Marcel. As much as he annoys me sometimes, he’s like a brother to me.
“I’m ready,” I tell him.
“Ready to go look up Clarissa?”
“No.” I scowl even though he can’t see me. “I’m going to take my trip. The boat is checked out and ready to go after the… the incident. It’s water-ready. I’m feeling better. It was always my plan, anyway, so it just makes sense.”
“Yeah,” he says uncertainly. “It was always the plan. But plans can change, right? I mean, this was a pretty surprising turn of events. Are you sure just walking away to spend six months on a boat is the next step? Don’t you at least want some answers? Closure?”
“She lied!” I remind him. “What else do I need to know? There was never anything between us. She wasn’t even being a real person, just a fake identity! So what does it matter now, hearing the details of how and why that happened? I mean, if I was making a movie or something, sure. But in my real life, does it change anything?”
“Doesn’t it?” he asks patiently. “Look, I support you. You know that. I support whatever you think needs to come next. I just think you might decide in a few months that your reaction was kind of a knee-jerk one. And by the time you realize you regret that, it’s going to be too late. She’ll be so deep in whatever new location they sent her to that no one will find her.”
I sigh. “I don’t need to find her,” I insist again. Still, my eye goes to the window, and I find myself gazing at the empty house next door. Something in my gut coils, and I can’t help but worry about her.
Even if she lied, it doesn’t mean you wish her harm. That’s all this is. You’d feel this way about anyone you thought was in danger. Getting chased by hitmen obviously counts.
The thought doesn’t bring me any comfort. Instead, allowing myself to recognize that at least some small part of me wants her to be safe only makes that tense feeling in my stomach turn to nausea.
There’s nothing I can do to keep her safe, and no way I can check up on her, so I should just let it go. But I can’t, not completely, and the sensation of an impending ulcer tells me maybe I never will.
“Look, I was just calling to keep you in the loop,” I tell him, evading the subject altogether. “I’m not calling to talk about Clarissa. Or Shauna. Or whoever she is today. I’m calling to tell you my trip is back on.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy it,” he says, and I can tell he really means it. He doesn’t understand or agree with my decision, but he’ll always support my right to make it for myself. It makes me feel a little better, at least.
If it’s a mistake, it’s mine to make. Not like Marcel’s doing so hot in the romance department, either. He thinks the best of every situation and sticks his head in the clouds as if it’s going to wrap up like some fairytale, but that’s not exactly working any better.
I know the thought is a little bitter, and to most people it would only prove that I’m not quite as indifferent as I’m pretending, but it does leave me feeling justified.
“Thanks, man,” I say sincerely. “I’ll be in touch. But I’ll let you get to bed for now, okay?”
My sleep is restless at best, and I can’t seem to settle. By the time dawn arrives the next morning, I’m ready to just get my day started. I don’t think I could spend another minute in this bed, tossing and turning.
Within a few hours, I’m all packed up and on my way to my boat at the dock. As I head there, a million thoughts play around in my head.What if Marcel is right? What if this is a mistake?
My fingers tense around the steering wheel as I second-guess the decision. “It doesn’t matter,” I remind myself. “You don’t know where she is anyway. What would you do about it? Take out a newspaper ad looking for her?”
I just want to forget the whole thing. Live my life, sail the seas.
It’s the only thing that makes sense. Chasing after someone I don’t even know is ridiculous. Isn’t it?
I realize I’m still a little bitter about the lie. What is it with everybody and lying? Lying to get ahead, lying in relationships, lying for self-aggrandizement? I’m sick of it. I understand the cut-throat nature that’s prevalent in most of life.
I haven’t made as much money in real estate as I have to not realize people will tell you whatever they need to make a sale. And I’m smart enough to know how that carries through to more than just business. Girls tell you whatever they need to draw you in, especially when you’re rich and they just want to get married. Friends, except for Marcel, tell you things to keep you happy if they know you’re going to buy dinner Friday night or the next round at the bar.
It’s just never what I wanted in a life partner, and I guess that’s why I keep avoiding them. I’d rather be alone than spend a lot of time with someone like that. Someone I’m supposed to be able to trust. How do you guard yourself against that? I don’t understand how other people make this work. Nobody is really on anybody’s side, so why pretend life is a team sport?
I take a detour back to my neighborhood. I don’t know what compels me to. My house is dark save for a small porch light illuminating the wooden door. It looks so lonely there, absent of life, and I wonder when the next time will be that someone is there.
Perhaps someday, this could have been a home with kids and a wife, but I don’t think that’s in the cards for me anymore. Maybe it never was. The yard probably won’t see children unless I sell the damn thing someday.
Next door, Clarissa’s house is in complete darkness. It is as if it has been abandoned for one hundred years, with vacant-looking windows and weeds starting to spring up around the mailbox. When Clarissa left, it was as if she took all the spirit of the house with her.
But it wasn’t really her home, anyway. It was temporary, utilitarian, strictly for the sake of keeping her hidden. In the long run, she ended up being hidden from me.
After standing in the street observing the houses for what seems like half an hour, I turn around and get back in my truck.
I was right the first time. I have to leave all of this behind. I have to go toward the ocean, where the possibilities are endless.
