Page 50 of Tell It To The Waves
“Where have you been, Bo?” She laces her words with accusation, but I ignore them.
Cracking the tab of my beer, taking a deep sip, quenching my thirst, “Just walking the beach.”
I want to head straight to bed, but I know if I do, she’ll just follow and bring her drama along with her. One thing about Molly is that she won’t stop until the other person gives in.
Falling into the chair across from her, I try to make my face look like I care when I ask, “What have you been up to, babe?”
And that’s what she wanted me to ask, so she could lead into her run-in with August.
She gets more comfortable on the sofa. “I went to the grocery store to get a few things and guess who I ran into.” Her eyes are wide, as if she’s surprised by who it was, too.
Shaking my head, I play dumb. “Who?”
I watch the smile on her face widen, showing her teeth. “August.”
Trying to look uninterested, I lean back, taking another sip of my beer.
“I accidentally let it slip what we had planned for the cove.” She smiles with each word, letting me know it wasn’t an accident.
I play into her game. “How did she take that?”
Molly giggles. “She said she isn’t selling.” Rolling her eyes, she continues, “She’ll sell; she’ll have to. I know she probably needs the money. And I can’t wait to tell her after she signs that this has been in the making since her father bought August Cove, thinking he saved the place, when really my family decided to buy their time.”
Squinting my eyes, I’m not sure what she’s talking about. She sees the confusion.
“My parents were the ones Craig Graft fought to buy the land over thirty years ago, and now it’s coming back to the rightful owners.” Molly smiles, like what she’s saying is no big deal.
I keep my face neutral; I don’t pry; I’ll find out my way, so I let her keep talking. But the whole time I’m not listening to her; I’m trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Tipping back the rest of my beer can, I stand up, walk to Molly, and give her a kiss. “I’m tired, baby.” Our eyes lock, and I don’t see an ounce of care in them, for me or for anything.
Leaving her on the sofa, I toe my shoes off, followed by the rest of my clothes, burrowing into bed. I lay there in the darkness, thinking about everything. I have to get out of this fucked up mess. A mess I didn’t know I was making eight years ago when I decided to use a girl to hurt my own. And now, here I am with that girl, hating the life I’m now living. Forced into it for the sake of my own family.
Pushing my head into my pillow, my eyes start to burn, but I don’t let myself cry. I’m a man, and I have to figure this all out. Crying will not help me or anyone. I have to fix it all.
I can hear the shower water running as I open my eyes, the sun announcing its new day. I don’t give myself time to think, jumping out of bed and throwing on the clothes I left on the floor last night.
Leaving before Molly can ask what I’m doing.
Starting my motorcycle, I hurriedly put my helmet on and take off. The rubble underneath my tires is flying.
I glide through the back roads, taking the turns with ease, all the while not letting myself think.
Coming to the turnoff, I maneuver down the steep driveway, parking and jumping off my bike, leaving my helmet on the seat. I make it to the door in a few strides, trying to hurry up and tell her before I chicken out.
A few knocks on the door, and then I can see her old bedroom door open, a black head of hair peeking out through the stained glass in the door.
Her steps are slow as she makes her way to the front door.
I stand there, heart pounding. Scared of how this will play out.
Her sleep-filled eyes greet me before her raspy voice does. Eyebrow arched, “Bohdi?”
Licking my lips, “You can buy the storefront.” The words fly out and slap her. August's eyes widen as she tries to understand what I just told her.
Confused, “What?” She opens the door wider, and I smile at the T-shirt she’s wearing…again.
“You want to buy the storefront; you’re staying in Driftwood Bay, so if you still want it, you can buy it.”
