35
Sailor
Build Your Wings
“HERE. OLD MAN ROGER WAS SELLING HIS garden ornaments again. The second I saw this, I knew I had to buy it for you.”
Looking up from where I replenished the stock of vanilla and coconut lip balm on my market table, I grinned at Lily. She’d had two open homes this morning so hadn’t been able to be my helper until noon. But then she’d arrived in a fluster and instead of letting her trade her prim blazer for country pinafore, I’d marched her out of my stall and told her to go find some lunch and calm down.
“I told you to eat, not buy me gifts.” I accepted the yellow-tissue-wrapped object, thinking of someone else who had a habit of gifting me things. Someone I’d barely heard from in four days. Someone who’d gone from being open and honest, to closed and monosyllabic in his messages.
Scooting between the two tables laden with homemade creams and essential oil blends, Lily joined me beneath the square tent that offered shade but no reprieve from the hot afternoon sun. “I did eat, but then I saw this and couldn’t help myself.”
I spoke my thoughts before I censored them. “You sound like someone else who gives without thinking.”
“Oh?” She winked. “Do tell. Is it that mystery person who gave you a care parcel of things you make yourself? Because you still haven’t spilled what you’re hiding by the way, and don’t think for a moment I believe you.”
I blushed and fumbled with the tissue paper. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Slipping her blazer off and trading it for an apron, she looked about as hot as I was. She eyed me with a familiar smirk. “In fact, you look much better these days, and it’s not just because your bruises are almost gone.”
I glanced at my arms.
She was right. My injuries had faded enough to look as if my skin was dirty not beaten. It’d allowed me to skip the jeans and jumper, and I’d chosen to wear a black linen dress that hinted at my skinny curves before skimming to my jewelled bronze sandals. The lingering greens and browns on my arms could be mistaken for soil smudges from working in the garden which worked with my business name, so I made no move to cover up.
Undoing the cellotape on the present Lily gave me, I pretended to be far too focused to talk.
Coming here this morning hadn’t been easy.
Dealing with the first early-bird customers on my own had scratched at my still-there panic. But as the sun slowly crept higher in the sky and stragglers turned to crowds and familiar sellers all waved and shared hellos, I managed to embrace yet another piece of myself that I’d lost.
Everything was getting better. However, I hadn’t heard from X today, and his disappearance made every part of my stupid body ache. He hadn’t been the one to bruise me, but my God, he’d left wounds thanks to his kindness, consideration, and insane skills at making me come apart.
Somehow, he’d become important to me. Incredibly important and for him to just cease communication after what we’d done the other night?
It hurt even worse than being strangled.
Is he in the crowd?
Is he close by?
My fingers itched to message him, but I forced myself to focus and unwrapped Lily’s gift. A wooden plaque, meant to hang on a garden fence, appeared beneath the final layer of tissue paper. The hand carved angel wings in the corners added a cute border to the words in the centre.
First You Jump Off The Cliff And Then You Build Your Wings On The Way Down.
Ray Bradbury
“Oh wow…” Tears pricked my eyes. “Ah, Lils, it’s—”
“I know, isn’t it perfect!” She bounced toward me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “It’s exactly how I feel every time you smile and move on with your life.” Her hands landed on my shoulder blades as if groping for non-existent wings. “I’m so proud of you, Sailor Moon. So in awe of you that you never let him win. Seeing you renovate that house to become yours? Seeing you continue running your business? Seeing you smile again? Ahh!” She kissed my cheek and whirled me around, making a few customers waiting to be served laugh. “I love you, girl. You jumped off that fear-filled cliff by going back to the very same house he hurt you in and you’ve been rebuilding your wings ever since. You’re one feather away from soaring to the stars!”
I hugged her back. “It’s only because I have you that I can be so brave.”
And him.
Because of X, I’d healed far, far quicker than I would have, and as grateful as I was for my best-friend, my thriving business, and the freshly painted living room that I’d spent the past three days turning white, my heart panged with loss.
“Thank you so much, Lily. I absolutely love it. I’m going to hang it on the deck where I can see it out the kitchen window.”
Letting me go, she glanced at the short line that’d formed. “I know we have to get to work, and now isn’t the time to gossip, but…I really do want to know what’s been going on with you. And don’t say there isn’t something because we both know there is, and I’m going to get it out of you, one way or another.”
I sagged in mock defeat. “Fine. We’re overdue a catch-up, anyway. I’ll permit you to try to pry my secrets out of me.”
“That’s my girl.” Tying on her apron, she said, “Fancy a movie on Monday night? I have a few evening open homes tomorrow, but we could go for dinner on Monday. Perhaps a quick drink, then hit the moving pictures?”
“Sure, sounds good.”
With a wink, she turned to serve the young man bouncing a toddler on his hip. “What can I help you with today?”
I really ought to move beside her and take the next in line, but I hadn’t been able to settle all morning. Taking Lily’s amazing plaque to the back of the tent where we kept our personal items, I placed it carefully beside my petty change wallet and whipped my burner phone out.
Me: Are you watching me today, or are you busy with the life you refuse to tell me about?
I pursed my lips and stared at my message. I didn’t like my tone. It almost sounded passive-aggressive and that wasn’t me. I’d been on the receiving end of that nonsense with Milton and never wanted to dish it out to others.
Me: Ignore that. I didn’t mean it. I’m just. In the rules of staying honest, I guess I’m a little sad that I’ve barely heard from you these past few days. I hate that you’re the one who’s completely in charge of this relationship. I have no way to stop you from fading away, just like I had no way of stopping you from barging into my life. I want to be mad about that, but…you taught me how to claim my life back, so I can’t be. Not really. I’m glad you let me take care of you the other night. You always warned me this was temporary. I just didn’t think it would hurt so much to say goodbye to someone who I never knew his name.
Sending the message, rubbing my cheeks to make sure Lily wouldn’t see my tears, I turned off the phone and went back to work.
* * * * *
I sat in my pop’s old car on my driveway, staring at the house that was slowly becoming mine. I’d made another online order for renovation supplies, and thanks to Pinterest, I’d found a few images of bright and airy living rooms that blended modern farm with cosy chic.
I’d already had the Salvation Army collect the furniture from the living room, so now Peng and I spent our evenings on cushions on the floor. Once I’d finished painting, I’d rip up the carpet and polish the floorboards.
The late afternoon sun promised a perfect balmy evening to spend reading in the garden or going for a swim in the local lake, but all I wanted was for a masked villain with a hero complex to appear uninvited in my house and kiss me.
Sighing heavily, I unbuckled and went to climb out of my car, but my phone finally pinged.
The chime I’d been waiting for all day.
My cheeks heated with how fast I launched myself at the passenger seat and snatched my handbag. Ripping my phone out, I pulled up the message thread.
X: I had to work, I’m so sorry, but I checked in on you using the video feed that the local fairgrounds have on their website. Your stall looked busy, and I’m glad you had your friend to help. I know I’ve been unfair the past few days. If I have to be honest, which I suppose I have to, thanks to that stupid clause, I wasn’t prepared for how much this would affect me and…I’m not doing so good. No one has ever asked to take care of me before. I didn’t think I needed anyone. But then you came along .
I kept scrolling, searching for more.
He couldn’t end the message there.
What the hell?
Me: You’re speaking as if you’ve made up your mind never to see me again .
I held my breath, sitting in my car like a weirdo in front of my house. I pleaded with everything that he’d respond and—
X: I didn’t want to do this so soon, and I feel like I’m letting you down, but…I can’t be your watcher anymore, Lori. You’re healing. You’ll be fine without me. I contacted you to help you breathe again, but now you’re somehow stealing all my air. It’s best for both of us to end this.
Me: And if I don’t want to end it?
X: You’re on the mend. I’m no longer needed.
Me: But what about you? What do you need?
X: It doesn’t matter what I need. This was never about me. I’ll keep watch in the distance and if you fumble, I’ll make sure to send help your way, but you won’t see me again.
Me: So you’re going to outsource my healing to someone else?
My teeth ground together as I added: Don’t you think that’s a bit pompous? To think I’d even want your help after you’ve decided to break up with me without talking face to face?
X: We weren’t together, and I’m doing you a favour. We both knew this would end eventually.
Me: No, we don’t know that. How about you tell me who you are and let me decide. Just tell me the truth. Are you a convict? Did you do something bad in a past life? Do you have twenty children from ten marriages? What? Why are you so convinced that I won’t accept you if I know who you are?
X: Goodbye, Lori.
A small cry escaped me as the final message glowed like a death sentence.
Tears tracked silently down my cheeks, half from anger, half from loss.
I wanted to message him back, begging him, threatening him, but in the end, I sent nothing at all.
* * * * *
On Monday, after attacking my house with sandpaper and paintbrushes all morning, I took a break to check the mail. I hated that my heart skittered with hope that X would’ve sent me another gift. That he’d message me and admit he wanted me. He’d tell me his name. He’d confess he wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him, and we’d ride off into the sunset together.
But that was fiction and this was reality, and the fact was…I hadn’t slept last night. I’d lived in twitchy anxiety, listening to my house cool, feeling the presence of my nana even though the TV didn’t turn on.
I’d scolded her for that.
I’d sat in the dark with my wonderful kitten purring on my lap and told a ghost off, all because she’d turned the TV on the second X had kissed me. The curtains had fluttered, and the house seemed to sigh with relief as if it’d been holding its breath just waiting for that kiss.
I didn’t appreciate her playing games with me or making it seem as if X had her approval from across the grave. He was a stranger. A liar by his own admission of non-admission.
I’d even blindfolded myself to make him feel safe, yet he hadn’t let down his guard. He’d refused to sleep with me. I’d practically had to force him to let me take care of the agonising need in his voice.
Feeling him come had done something irrevocable to me. It’d been the first time I’d felt true power over a man—not because I held his most vulnerable part but because of the way he’d surrendered to me. For a few precious moments, he’d given every piece of himself to me, and now he’d taken those pieces back and left me with nothing.
No face to remember.
No name to whisper.
He’d appeared like a ghost and vanished like one, and I flatly refused to be haunted by him any longer.
Stomping to the letterbox, I wrenched up the roof of the gingerbread house and scowled inside. A glint of flower-printed porcelain made me want to scream.
“Screw you, X. Screw you .”
With anger-shaking hands, I scooped out my washed plate that used to hold a chocolate cake. A Post-it Note stuck to it.
This was delicious but not as delicious as you. I know I’ve made you hate me, and I have no right to say this, but… I can’t get you out of my mind. You don’t need me anymore and, just as I suspected, I need you with every fibre of my being.
I’m sorry. Forgive me. Be safe and happy. X
“Everything okay?”
I jumped a foot and clutched the plate to my chest. “Zander.” Squinting in the sun, I blinked back stinging tears. “Yes…yes, I’m fine. A-Are you?”
His face looked drawn and fatigued, his black-framed glasses ringing eyes full of sleepless shadows. Even his tall frame looked a little thinner and washed out as if he hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks.
That reminds me. I still need to bake him a cake for giving me Peng.
“Not really.” He shrugged. “But that’s life.”
“Is there anything I can help with?” Stepping toward him, I did my best to put aside my grief and anger over X. I also braced myself against Milton’s awful voice, daring him to call me a slut for caring about Zander’s well-being.
He was hurting for some reason. And I was his friend who should help.
I prepared to suffer through the phantom pain of my hair being ripped out or my body being kicked, but…nothing happened.
The only ache I felt was the one for my childhood friend who looked utterly exhausted.
“That’s kind but no.” He forced a smile, his eyes tightening as he looked at the plate in my arms. “I better let you go inside.” His car pinged as it cooled down, hinting he’d just returned from work. With a sigh, he turned to walk up the pathway to his front door.
“Wait.” My heart pinched at the thought of him leaving. I didn’t like seeing him like this. So low, so… un-him . “Are you truly okay?”
His smile widened but didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. I should be the one asking you that.” He cocked his head. “How are you doing with everything? Honestly?”
Honestly.
That word again.
I’d been brutally truthful with X, and while it’d been healing, it’d also left a wound inside me with his disappearance. Could I be brave enough to open myself that wide again? Did I have the strength to scare another man off with the truth?
Zander can’t disappear.
I knew where he lived. I knew his name, his birthday, his star sign, and numerous other random facts that might not be true now that he was an adult. I knew more than I should about him as a teenage boy. I knew he didn’t like breakfast and preferred older people to kids his own age. I knew he used to read a lot because I’d observed him devour book after book by torchlight when his grandparents thought he was asleep in bed.
I used to watch him from my window as I did the same, reading covertly when I’d been told to go to sleep. He never knew we shared a nightly ritual of reading together, but it was one of my favourite memories of coming here for visits.
So…tell him. Be his friend. He looks like he could use one .
“What books were you reading? When you were younger?”
“Excuse me?” He scowled as if utterly confused.
Stepping closer, I drank him in, my skin tingling with heat. “I used to read with you…by torchlight. You never knew that we had the same habit of not going to bed when we were told. I read fantasies and romance. I got pretty good at hiding my book and faking sleep if I heard anyone walk outside my bedroom. You did the same.”
He balled his hands. “You watched me?”
“Hard not to when I had a crush on you.”
He sagged and swiped a hand through his hair. He looked as if he’d say something. His jaw worked; his green eyes glowed. Tripping sideways, he took a step toward his house as if he needed to get away from me, but then he turned and marched in my direction.
The explosiveness of his steps. The almost angry look in his eyes.
Self-preservation overrode common sense, and I reeled backward.
Goblin-Milton hissed in my ear. “You’re a tease, and teases get fucked, slut.”
I gasped and almost dropped the plate.
He wrenched to a stop, his gaze flaring. “Shit.” Ripping his glasses off, he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy exhale. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just—”
“I-It’s fine. I’m fine.” Breathing hard, I forced myself to stop being so stupid. “It’s not you. Like I said, it’s—”
“Go inside, Sailor,” he snapped, putting his glasses back on. “Enough, okay? You don’t have to make small talk with me. I don’t expect you to be friendly with me. We’re good.” Lowering his chin, he watched me with terribly sad eyes. “I’m good with just being your neighbour, so stop forcing yourself to care about me when it’s only making it harder for you to be around me.”
A stabbing pain appeared right between my ribs. I hated seeing him so tired, so sad. I didn’t know what he’d gone through at work or why he hurt, but…I felt responsible. He’d seen me jumping around him and watched me flee each time he approached me. He probably thought I hated his guts when nothing could be further from the truth.
Hugging the plate, I sucked in a breath and blurted, “I saw you…the day Milton attacked me. I didn’t mean to look through your window, but I did, and he accused me of having an affair, and well…you know what he did.” My voice turned wobbly. “I know you would never do anything to hurt me. I know that right to my soul. I know because I’ve seen you grow, and heard enough stories about you from Nana to know you’re the best guy ever…I’m just…I’m having a hard time telling my nervous system that.”
He couldn’t look at me, keeping his gaze locked on the ground. “You don’t have to tell me—”
“I do. I think…I think I’ve been quite blind the past few years and only just realising that you’ve been there all along. I know I’ve been cold to you and if I’m honest—which I’m doing my best to be—it was partly because Milton always made me feel uncomfortable if I spoke to you, but also because…I think…deep down…I knew I’d made a mistake. That I was looking for a way out the moment I started dating him and didn’t know how to get free.”
His eyes shot up. His throat flexed as he swallowed hard. “I would’ve gotten you out if you’d just told me. I would’ve done anything if it meant he didn’t hurt you.”
Tears stung. “I know you would’ve, and that’s what kills me. I hate that I keep flinching around you. I’m getting better. So much better. I no longer feel the pain of what he did, and I can ignore what he said the more time I spend with you, but sometimes…I still fumble.”
Going to him, I hid my flinch as he stepped away from me. “I just…I’m telling you this so you know it’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s the triggers from the past but they are fading, and I am getting better, and I want to be friends with you. I wasn’t lying about that. Going for a ride with you helped me so much, and I hate seeing you so down.”
You’re doing what you did with X.
I was forcing my help onto a man who didn’t want it. Begging him to let me care when all he wanted to do was get away from me.
That stabbing pain came again. I laughed at my stupidity. “Forget it. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. It’s super egotistical to think you’re down because of me. You’ve probably had a shitty day at work, and it has nothing to do with—”
“Thank you.” He cut me off with half a smile. “Knowing what Milton did to you? It helps. I’m grateful you told me.”
I held his stare. “And I’m grateful you’re helping those triggers fade away.”
Awareness crackled between us the longer we stood there.
My heart skipped for all new reasons. I was attracted to him. Drawn to him. And I didn’t understand how my body could crave his as if I’d already been in his arms and been kissed by his lips when we’d hardly ever spoken.
Shaking my head, doing my best to get rid of the uncanny sensation of déjà vu, I plastered on a bright smile. “Did you just get back from work?” I eyed the car keys clutched in his hand and the black satchel slung over his shoulder.
Nodding, he raked his fingers through fire-dark hair. “Yeah, it’s been a week from hell. Barely stepped out of the hospital since Tuesday.”
“You do look ready to pass out.”
He sighed and squeezed his nape. “That’s exactly what I plan on doing the second I go inside.”
“Good plan.” Awkwardness settled between us.
“Crime and autobiographies,” he muttered.
“What?”
“The books I read. That and the occasional thriller.”
“Can’t say they’re my cup of tea.”
“I knew, by the way.” He hitched up his satchel. “I saw your torch too. I just…didn’t know you could see me.”
I had no idea what to say. We’d crossed the bridge of neighbours to friends but hadn’t established subjects we were familiar with.
The awkwardness stretched.
Tripping backward, I blurted, “I better go—”
“How’s Peng—?”
We spoke at the same time.
Our eyes caught.
We laughed in a stumbling, endearing kind of way.
“Sorry.” He bowed his chin. “You go.”
“He’s fine.” I smiled. “Being the cutest little terror. Put his paw in my latest batch of lemongrass body butter, so I hope no one finds a cat hair in their cosmetics.”
“Uh-oh.” He grinned while stifling a yawn. “Tell him to practice better health and safety if he’s going to help in the kitchen.”
I laughed softly. “I will.”
Clutching the strap of his satchel, he glanced at the plate I kept squeezing. “Is that some sort of shield for talking to me or…?”
Holding it away from me, I flinched at the neon yellow Post-it and ripped it off before Zander could read X’s note.
Zander narrowed his eyes as I scrunched the paper and stuffed it into my paint-splattered pocket. “Nah, just someone I used to know giving me back what’s mine.”
He nodded slowly, his green gaze darkening. “Sounds pretty final.”
“Oh, it is.” I arched my chin. “Some things don’t last, you know?”
He winced. “Yeah, life sucks that way.”
We shared a stare again, the ghosts of our parents and grandparents thick between us. Funny that although I knew his family history, I hadn’t stopped to think how similar we were in that respect. I was a true orphan in this world. I literally had no one alive who shared my DNA but him…he had two sisters.
“How’re Christina and Jolie?” I asked, doing my best to be a better neighbour and friend. “Do they still live a few suburbs over?”
He half-smiled, tiredness making him sway. “They’re good. Sworn off men, but that doesn’t stop my friend Colin from flirting.”
“I think swearing off men is contagious around here.” I laughed a little too loudly.
He flinched again. “After what Milton did to you, I think you’re wise to avoid my sex.”
I let him think it was Milton I meant.
He yawned and shook his head as if to wake himself up.
You’re keeping the poor guy up. He’s dead on his feet and probably performed countless surgeries.
He didn’t need me keeping him from bed.
A bubble of anxiety had me asking, “Do you have anyone to cook you a meal tonight? You look like you might fall asleep on the stove if you attempt to make anything.”
His eyebrows shot up. Pushing his glasses back into position, he frowned. “Y-You’re asking if I have anyone who takes care of me?”
“Of course.” Taking another step toward him, I noticed how he took one back.
He’d always been very aware of others, and I’d just told him how I felt around him, thanks to Milton. It made sense to keep his distance. And the fact that he did so, even in his almost comatose state, made my heart swell with gratefulness. “Look, I’m done renovating for the day and have enough greens from the garden to make a huge salad. I was going to cook some roast veggies and either chicken drumsticks or garlic butter cod. I can bring you a plate if you want? You could have a shower and relax while I cook? I shouldn’t be too long. Then you can go to bed and—”
“Seriously?” He staggered.
I reached out to grab him, but he backpedalled as if I was the one with the history of hitting people, not my ex.
I froze.
He coughed and ran his hand over his mouth, scratching at his five o’clock shadow that’d grown in after a long day at work. “That is…” Shaking his head, he shrugged as if I’d stripped him of all his strength. “That’s so nice of you.”
Why did that single sentence rip out my heart?
Why did he look as if I was the first to ever offer him a home-cooked meal when I knew all the old ladies on this street adored him? Surely, some of them would’ve dropped off a casserole at some point?
No…
Whenever I’d seen Zander talking to Josephine or Beverley, he was the one doing something for them. Fixing their lawnmower or teaching them how to buy groceries online.
In fact…had I ever seen anyone do something for him in return?
Would he even accept the gesture if someone did?
All my life, I’d thought he was a little standoffish and remote, but now…now, I saw a man far too willing to hide his true self in order to look after others.
I couldn’t stop my feet from closing the distance between us. I might have lost X to his obsessive need to help people, but I wouldn’t lose Zander too.
I touched his arm.
He hissed as if my fingers burned him.
His emerald gaze snapped to mine, his breath coming quicker. “I-I don’t expect you to, Sailor. Honestly, I can order a takeaway and—”
“Don’t even think about it. I’m happy to take care of you.” Pulling away, I headed toward my house. “Go get clean and relax. I’ll be over in thirty minutes.”