Page 4 of Secret Sins

"Come on, ya furry bastard." Chuffing tiny meows at me, he appeared from the corner of the store to follow me out.

Locking the front doors, I made my way next door to the brightly lit bakery, with its plethora of glass cases and round bistro tables. Corner Café and Bakery was my home in more ways than one.

"Hey, sweetheart, is it already five?" Ellie called from the register. "This day got away from me, I swear."

Crossing behind the counter, she greeted me as Charlie bolted up the back stairs. "I know the feeling."

Releasing me from a hug, Ellie darted to the pastry case and withdrew a white box. "New flavor of tart Alex wants you to try."

"You guys are just trying to fatten me up." Tucking my keys in my pocket, I balanced the box on my palm and opened it to find a bounty of blackberries overfilling a miniature crust. Tucked alongside were a handful of snickerdoodles and a sandwich wrapped in wax paper.

"Blackberry kiwi." Nodding, she continued, "I think it's great, but Alex says I would never be honest if it sucked."

"And he thinks I would break his heart in such a way?" Nothing Alex made was bad. Ever. "And I see he thinks I can't fend for myself at dinnertime."

Smiling deviously, Ellie nudged me toward the stairs. "Just looking out for you, babe."

We had a symbiotic relationship, if I were being honest. I bought entirely too many pastries to give away next door, and they overfed me most days in return. Charlie waited impatiently in front of our door, so I unlocked it and sighed at his mad dash for the food dish.

"You're not starving, I swear to God."

Unloading everything on the table, I made sure to feed the clearly not emaciated little fucker and add fresh water to his fountain. He had everything his heart could possibly desire, but he acted as though he was doing me a favor by living with me.

Just like any other cat.

But he was my companion, one I cherished, and I couldn't picture life without him. He followed me back and forth to and from work every day, he greeted my customers, and he was someone to talk to in the evenings.

Feeling restless, I took the cookies from the box and put the rest in the fridge. Scratching Charlie between the ears in a goodbye gesture, I grabbed a lightweight jacket and trod back down the stairs. Alex was flipping off the lights in the kitchen as I passed down the hallway, so I waved and thanked him for the food.

Ducking out the back and shrugging the jacket over my shoulders, I listened to tiny pebbles scattering across the parking lot as my sneakers kicked them loose. The ocean beckoned, as it often did, and I wandered toward the bay. It was three blocks down, a decent bit of exercise to work off the cookies, and a frequent spot for tourists. Those who worked at the docks would have headed home by then, unless someone was up for some night fishing. The sun was sinking lower, as we had recently passed the spring equinox, and the changing colors of the sky painted a gorgeous picture. All too soon, the heat of summer would arrive, and with it, longer days and late nights.

Couples and children alike cluttered the park, throwing balls and chasing dogs. Some walked hand in hand down the path, but those were the ones I ignored. Making a beeline for the railing overlooking the inlet and the bay further out, I simply inhaled. Brine and fish lingered in the background notes, but I smelled freedom. The rush of water, of air, sea and sky blending until they were nearly one unit. It was my home, for better or worse.

The ocean called to so many. Some were compelled to make their living on it, through its depths, and some were called to play on it. To drive a boat too fast, to sail or paddle or whatnot, chasing that elusive spot at the edge of the world. I waited, my eyes unfocused as I tamped down the memories, and finally found my reward.

Red and gold, the sun sank into the water's waiting arms, and, for a brief moment, gave the illusion of fire in the water. Long past the time everyone else left, back to their cozy homes or out to dinner, I stood rooted to my spot. Sea breezes whipped at wisps of my hair, determined to dislodge them from my bandana. My eyes stung, and I blinked furiously.

Tears wouldn't help, hadn't ever helped, and I was luckier than most. Wallowing wasn't in my nature, but I indulged one day a year.

One day; the anniversary of my parents' death.

Lost to the sea, lost to their passion, they had left me when I was merely nine months old. And because of that, there was nothing to hold on to. No scent, no voice, no recollection of them rocking me, reading to me, or singing to me. The siren's song had been more powerful than my love, and they had gone away.

Childish. My emotions on this day seemed to revert each year until I was a child once again, throwing a tantrum over what she couldn't have. Couldn't have mommy and daddy, couldn't have a family to raise me. Couldn't have that house by the sea, the one on the cliff overlooking the entire world. It was lost when they were. It was lost to Old Man Raoul—who probably deserved to live there with his grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and an actual need for the multitude of bedrooms. Yearning for a fucking house made me weak, and I wasn't weak.

Wiping my nose on my jacket sleeve, I spun in an angry arc and nearly ran right into Van.

"Oh, fuck, sorry." Stepping quickly away, I recalled the nasty tone in his voice when he'd said not to touch him earlier in the day. At the time, I was in business-owner mode; sweet-shopkeeper mode. Now, I was in pissed-the-hell-off mode. Bristling, I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and tried to step around him.

"No, I'm sorry." His voice was deep, goddammit, and apologetic. "Heidi took off after a squirrel, and I lost hold of the leash."

Quickly surveying the area at his mildly panicked tone, I scrubbed my face one more time and made a dash for the opening in the fence. Down past the large boulders standing sentry along the seawall, Heidi gamboled headlong into the surf, and Van and I followed her as far as the sand stretched into the tendrils of waves. Barking madly, she looked back with a big doggy grin, and we stopped running.

Van let out a startled laugh, and my throat constricted as I caught my breath. Get yourself together, girl.

"She'll be wet, but she's fine." Was that my voice? That high-pitched, reedy noise?

"I didn't realize she was dying for a dip in the ocean." Plopping onto the wet sand, Van bent his knees and draped his hands over them. Eyes glued to the dog, he sat in what appeared to be contented silence. At peace with himself for the first time in forever, my brain told me. What the fuck did she know?