Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Paul
Mark came out of that building while I stood under the banyan tree across the street.
He carried an insulated bag. He'd had two when he arrived; now one was empty.
He stopped at the door, looked up at that third-floor window for a while, then turned toward the alley.
I waited until his figure disappeared completely at the mouth of the alley before stepping out from behind the tree.
He'd been inside for over two hours. It was past six when he arrived, nearly nine now.
I got on my bike and rode to the beach. Not many people on the beach after nine. A few couples sitting on distant rocks, a homeless guy sleeping on a bench under newspapers. I found an empty spot and sat down.
I cracked open the beer I'd just bought and took a long pull. My head was full of what I'd just seen. Mark holding her hand—I couldn't see it clearly from that angle, the doorframe blocking half the view, but I knew he was holding it. She didn't pull away.
I took another swig. Jealousy lodged in my chest. I wanted to storm up there, shove him aside, tell him she was my woman, my kid. But she didn't pull her hand back. That was her choice. Six years ago, I did nothing and watched her leave. Now she had someone else. Who could I blame but myself?
Marcus said I came to play the savior, that I was hurting her all over again. He was right. I was a fool to think money could fix everything. So I stopped spouting that bullshit. I'd just watch from a distance. Be there when she needed me.
I thought that would be enough, until today when I saw Mark. I finished the second beer, crushed it, and tossed it with the first. Picked up my phone. Put it down. Finally dialed Marcus.
"Paul?" He answered fast, surprise in his voice. "What made you call? Something happened?"
I was quiet for a moment. "Marcus, if a guy goes to a woman's place every week, stays two or three hours—what does that mean?"
Marcus paused on the other end. "What does what mean? Spell it out for me."
"There's this guy who goes to Casey's at a set time every week. Stays two to three hours. Today I saw him holding her hand."
Marcus went quiet for a few seconds. "You're saying someone's courting her?"
"I don't know. I just saw it."
"How'd she react?"
"Didn't pull away. Just let him hold it."
Marcus sighed. "Paul, you gotta level with me. What's your situation? You never told me someone was showing up at her place."
"I hadn't seen it before. Saw it today."
"So what do you want to do?"
"I don't know. That's why I'm asking you."
I heard a lighter click on the other end. He was lighting up. He took a drag, his words slowing. "Paul, you've been in Hawaii for almost a month. What have you been doing this whole time?"
"Rented a studio. Learning to surf, learning to cook local food. Sometimes hanging around Casey's neighborhood."
"You talked to her?"
"A few times. Not much."
"Does she know why you came?"
"Should, right? I told her the first day."
"So what do you think she's thinking?"
I looked at the distant waves and let out a breath. "I don't know."
"Paul, I'm gonna ask you something important." Marcus's voice turned serious. "Do you still love Casey? Not guilt, not wanting to make amends. Love. The kind where you want to be with her, want to wake up every morning and see her. You got that?"
"Yes."
"Then what are you hesitating for?"
"I'm scared she won't want me," I said. "I'm scared she's already chosen someone else. Scared this Mark can give her something I can't. I mean, I abandoned her six years ago. Now I come back saying I love her. Why should she believe me?"
"Have you told her yourself?" Marcus said. "Told her you love her, told her you'd give up everything for her, told her you're willing to wait?"
I didn't answer.
"Paul, you keep doing, but you never say. You watch from a distance, you change yourself, but you never tell her why you're doing any of it."
I stared at the distant waves. The moon was rising, a thin crescent. Moonlight fell on the water, rocking gently with the swells.
"Stand in front of her like a man and tell her," Marcus said. "Whether she accepts is her business. But you gotta let her know."
The call ended. I sat on the beach gripping my phone. He was right. I kept doing, never saying. All she saw was the guy who abandoned her six years ago now showing up again, lurking around, saying nothing. What was she supposed to think?
I opened my phone to my photos. There was one from six years ago I'd taken of her in the library—her sitting by the window reading, sunlight on her face.
This photo had followed me for six years.
Even when I changed phones three times, I always transferred it over.
I remembered the first time I held her hand, a fall evening by the Charles River.
The wind was a little cold. I asked if her hand was cold.
She said a little. So I took it. That day, her eyes were brighter than the stars.
I asked myself: Paul, are you sure that guy can make her happy, or are you running away again? Six years ago, you lost her because you were a coward. Now you're gonna give up because you're a coward again?
I turned off my phone screen and stood up. The beach was empty now except for me. Waves coming in rhythm. The moon still hung there, thin and bright over the water.
The next day, I went to the community center. Asked the front desk if they needed volunteers. They said meal delivery was short-staffed and asked if I could do it. I said yes.
The community center assigned me a route near Casey's apartment—a few blocks.
After running it every day, I got to know the area better and better.
One house had a yellow dog that ran to the door wagging its tail whenever it heard the bike bell.
One old man living alone was hard of hearing—every delivery I had to yell his name before he'd hear.
Later I learned to knock three times, then twice. He could tell it was me.
That day at noon, I finished my last delivery and rode through the little road lined with plumeria trees. The scent was strong, a few blossoms on the ground. My wheels rolled over them, leaving pale yellow smears. Around a bend, I saw Casey standing outside a laundromat, holding a bag.
She saw me, too. I stopped the bike, one foot on the ground.
"Casey," I called her name.
She made a small sound, waiting for me to continue.
I got off the bike, pushed it forward two steps, and stopped in front of her. Sunlight leaked through the leaves, dropping patches of light on the ground.
"I want to tell you something."
She didn't respond, just looked at me.
"I know I did things wrong before," I said. "When I first got here, saying that stuff about giving you a better life, that was stupid. All this I'm doing now, deliveries, surfing, staying here, it's not about making up for anything."
"I just want you to know I'm not here out of guilt. I'm here because I love you. If you ever need me for anything, just say it. I'm right here."
No expression on her face. After a moment, she said, "Got it."
I nodded, didn't say more, got on my bike, and rode on. I wasn't saying those things expecting a response. As long as she knew what I really thought, that was enough.
That afternoon after work, I went to the beach and surfed for a while.
When I came ashore, I saw Casey arrive with Tommy.
Tommy changed into his swim trunks, ran toward the water, and splashed through the shallows.
She called out behind him to slow down, then sat down on the sand and pulled out a book from her bag.
I stood by a bench, drying my hair. Tommy ran over and stopped in front of me, tilting his head back to look up.
"Mister, are you surfing today?"
"Just finished."
He glanced at the ocean, then back at me. "Could you teach me to surf?"
I looked over at her. She was looking down at her book, but I knew she was listening.
"Your mom okay with it?"
He turned around and called out, "Mom, can he teach me?"
She lifted her head, looked this way. Her eyes paused on my face for a second, then she nodded. "Don't go out too far."
I took Tommy into the water, showed him how to lie on the board, and how to paddle forward when the wave came. He was serious, his little face tight, asking after every move if he did it right. I told him he did great. He broke into a grin.
After a while, he got tired. I carried him back to shore. He ran to her for water. I followed and stopped about six feet away.
She wiped the water off Tommy's face and glanced up at me.
"He's pretty focused," I said.
"Yeah. He loves the water."
Tommy wanted to play more after his drink. She said to rest a bit first. Tommy sat down next to me and started piling up sand. I sat down too and helped him build a castle.
The sun slowly dropped. The water started turning gold. She gathered her things and stood up, calling Tommy. Time to go.
Tommy ran over and took her hand. After two steps, he looked back at me. "Will you be here tomorrow?"
I stood up, glanced her way. She didn't say anything, just looked down and straightened Tommy's clothes.
"Yeah," I said.
Tommy was satisfied. He pulled her hand and walked forward. She never looked up, just held Tommy's hand and slowly walked away.
I stood there watching the sunset stretch their shadows long, all the way to the grass by the road.
About what I should do six years later, I think I know the answer now.