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6
Lucas
The last time I saw Simone was over ten years ago. She was living in Portland but drove down to Maple Ridge that weekend to visit Aiden while he and I were on leave.
We’d joined their grandmother and my parents at a restaurant for dinner. Afterward, I’d sneaked into Simone’s bedroom through her window, and we’d had sex.
Great sex.
The kind of sex that got me through the rest of my time with the Marines. The gunfire, explosions, destruction, the uncertainty, emptiness, fear. When things got rough, when I wasn’t sure if I would return home in one piece, memories of that night and Simone’s letters kept me going.
Or rather, the letters had kept me going until they abruptly stopped.
And she never replied to the ones I sent her.
I watch Simone walk out the door. And the shitstorm of emotions that surfaced when I first saw her—guilt, regret, joy, shame—eases slightly.
She’s even more beautiful than I remembered. The reddish gleam to her dark hair. Full lips. Hazel eyes rich with a trillion shades of green and gold.
The Simone I’ve thought about over the years is a pale comparison to the flesh-and-blood woman. They were flat, one-dimensional. The real Simone is light refracting through a prism, a rainbow of colors.
“She’s looking better than the last time I saw her,” Troy says.
“Aiden’s funeral?”
He nods, and a tsunami of guilt drags me down. Suffocates me.
I wasn’t there for Simone during the most painful period of her life. At the time, I claimed I couldn’t get a leave of absence from my PT practicum. That was a pile of shit.
“She looked like a ghost.” Troy murmurs the words as if saying them louder will turn them into shrapnel.
“How come no one told me about Rose?” I ask, needing to change the topic. “I had to find out about the hit-and-run from Robert and Tuuli this morning.”
“You spoke to them this morning?” The wince in Troy’s tone manages to stay off his face. He can tell it’s not good news.
“I’ll tell you about it after we get our food. So any word about what happened to Rose?”
“It was a hit-and-run. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the asshole didn’t bother to stick around to make sure she was okay.” So pretty much what Tuuli told me. “We didn’t tell you because you were dealing with enough crap with your arrest. We didn’t want to dump that news on you, too. That, and I thought Mom would tell you.”
“Guess you were wrong about that. I take it the cops have no idea who hit Rose?”
“No more than they have any clue about how the narcotics got into your house. Their level of incompetence is really comforting.”
We walk to the counter, place our orders, and find an empty table next to the window.
The condemning stares and the murmur of voices scrape against me like barnacle-covered debris. Under different circumstance, I wouldn’t give a damn what other people think of me. But this time, too much is at stake.
Troy bites into his sandwich.
“The Wakefields contacted me this morning. They’re reconsidering our offer.” I get him up to speed on my conversation with them.
A groan vibrates through Troy’s chest as if he’s been punch-kicked in the gut. “Great, because none of us are interested in getting married, we’re looking at potentially losing the land?”
“I don’t think it was an issue before. But they’re big fans of romance, which puts the lodge a step ahead of us.”
“I thought they were supportive of our reasons for wanting the land.”
“They are. But in their books, love trumps all.” I mean, Robert did propose to Tuuli there. I don’t think my telling him and Tuuli that Simone and I had sex by their stream will cut it for the Most Romantic Gesture of the Year Award.
