41. Paisley
Waking up to ‘Klein the boyfriend’is, in a word, magnificent.
I must’ve run him ragged last night because he’s usually up before me. He never misses a chance to bring me coffee and remind me what a sloth I am in the mornings.
I peek at his prostrate form, his chest rising and falling in even intervals. He’s on his back, unfairly long eyelashes dusting his cheeks, mouth slightly parted. A small birthmark darkens a patch of skin on his ribs, and an even smaller mole dots the landscape beside it.
I want to know everything about this man. Map his body, learn his ticklish spots.
My response to him is strong, and if I’m being honest with myself, it has been since day one. Not just that first night he walked into my apartment when we were eighteen, but six weeks ago when I sidled up to his bar.
Was it only because I harbored hurt feelings? I don’t think so. Looking back, I see what I couldn’t in the moment. It wasn’t only me responding strongly to him, it was my soul.
My soul wants Klein.
My body? That’s a given.
And my heart?
I’ve been a terrible judge in the past, choosing Shane when he is almost a carbon copy of my father. I know Klein is nothing like Shane or my dad. Down in the depth of my heart, and in the shallows, I know this truth.
In his hands, my heart is safe.
What a relief. What a joy.
With one last longing look at the handsome man in my bed, I slip from under the covers and grab my robe. Tying it around my waist, I grab my phone and tiptoe from the bedroom.
The house is quiet. It is still early, the sun just beginning its climb into the sky.
Suddenly I have the urge to talk to my mom. I send her a text.
Are you up?
In the kitchen drinking coffee. Come over.
In my pajamas and robe, I hop on the golf cart and drive the short distance to my mom and Ben’s place.
I step inside without knocking. My mother sits at the kitchen island, wearing a lavender silk robe and holding a cup of coffee.
“Hi, Mom,” I greet.
“Good morning.” She points at the coffee maker. “Make yourself a cup.”
I do as she’s said, joining her at the island when I’m done. “So… have you talked to Sienna?”
She gazes at me over the brim of her coffee cup, nodding. “She called me late last night. She was on her way out to stay the night with Shane.”
“I’m sure that pleased him,” I grumble.
She places her cup of coffee on the table. “Real talk, Paisley?”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
In this family, there is everything but real talk.
My mom ignores my question. “Sienna told me about Klein.”
Great. Just fucking great. All that work this week, for nothing.
I flip my hair over my shoulder, and the smell of Klein’s body wash comes over me. No matter what happens with my family, this week was not for nothing. No matter how messy it has been, or will be for the next forty-eight hours until we leave the island, this weekend was the beginning of mine and Klein’s relationship. Our real relationship.
“Klein and I may have not started out in a very conventional way, Mom, but there’s nothing fake about us anymore. In fact?—”
My mom holds up a palm. “You don’t have to tell me. I have eyes. I can see how smitten you are with each other.”
A smile tugs up one corner of my mouth. “Yeah?”
She nods once, slowly. “Yes. He’s obsessed with you. In a good way.”
“I’m obsessed with him, too.”
“Yes, you are. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
Sipping my coffee, I ask, “Is that how you feel about Ben?”
At the mention of Ben, my mother’s eyes light up. “Oh, yes. Yes. He’s...” She searches for the word. “Everything I always wanted.”
I try to nod my encouragement, to be supportive, but it feels weird to hear my mother say these words, and have them not be about my father. Not because I think they should be, necessarily, but it’s just odd.
“Did Sienna tell you she kicked me out of her wedding?”
Irritation flickers over my mom’s features. “Yes. And I told her she was wrong to do that.”
“You did?”
“Of course, Paisley.” Her eyebrows pull together in the middle as she gazes at me like my surprise confuses her.
“You tend to think Sienna can do no wrong.”
She frowns. “That’s not true.”
“You thought it was okay for Sienna to date my ex. You thought it was fine for her to get engaged to him. You thought it was acceptable to ask me to throw her bachelorette party.”
Mom sits back in her chair. “Honey, you don’t know what I thought. You didn’t ask me.”
“I’m asking you now.”
“I thought the choice was odd, and when I questioned Sienna, she said you were fine with it. She even said you were happy for her. Honestly, we’d had so much upheaval in our family that I felt relieved. I didn’t want to deal with more pain in my children’s lives. But,” she sighs, brushing her fingers through her hair, “I should have pushed. I should’ve called you and asked you outright. I’m sorry I didn’t press the issue, Paisley. I wish I’d looked harder at your blasé attitude.”
My breath sticks in my throat. An apology? From my mom? Is this real?
She holds up a lone finger. “However, why didn’t you speak up sooner, Paisley? Why didn’t you tell Sienna you weren’t comfortable with her relationship?”
I blow out a heavy breath. “In this family, when I speak up, I get kicked out.”
“Are you referring to your father and college and your choice of career?”
“Yes, but it’s more than that. I finally told you about Dad cheating on you, and it broke our family. Sienna and Spencer blamed me, Mom. It affected my relationship with them.”
She starts to argue, but I cut her off. “They both told me they wished I’d never said anything. I’ve been carrying around guilt about it for years. Years. So when Sienna told me she’d run into Shane and I heard the happiness in her voice, I couldn’t deny her. I just couldn’t.”
“Guilt is a powerful emotion. It can make people behave in all sorts of ways. It can even make a woman stay in an unhappy marriage years past when she’s ready to leave.”
My fingers tighten around my cup. “Are you saying?—”
She’s already nodding. “You didn’t break up your dad and I by telling the truth. If anything, you gave me the out I’d wanted for a long time.”
“But… but…” I’m sputtering, unable to form a sentence.
“I’ll talk to your siblings, honey. I’ll make sure they know you’re not to blame.” She wraps a hand around mine. “I’m sorry you’ve been shouldering this for so long.”
Not one apology, but two? I’m not sure what to make of this conversation.
“And,” she continues, “for what it’s worth, nobody believes you have feelings for Shane except Sienna. And only she believes that because she can’t accept the fact Shane is struggling to see you here with Klein.”
“Dad can’t stand seeing you with Ben, either.”
She rolls her eyes. “Could he make it any more obvious?”
I bark a laugh at my mother’s irreverence. It’s the little bit of comedic relief I need in this atmosphere laden with old truths.
“One day,” my mother says, picking up her coffee cup and bringing it to her lips, “your father and I will sit down and have a heart to heart, but that day is not today.” She walks to the sink and rinses out her coffee cup. “I have to get changed to go to the club and start getting ready for the ceremony. The makeup and hair team will arrive soon, and I’m up first.”
I feel a stab of pain and a pinch of envy, knowing I won’t be a part of this family memory. That I’ve been blocked from it.
My mother wraps me in a quick hug, taking me by surprise. Physical touch is her last-place love language.
“It’s all going to work out,” she says, shocking me even more by chucking me on the chin.
A memory wiggles to the front of my mind, and I ask, “This is random, but do you still have those Halston wrap dresses?”
Her eyebrows tug. “That is random. And yes, I do.”
“Would you be willing to part with one?” Briefly I recap the story of Halston and her mother. “Halston’s probably the reason Klein and I are together right now. All of it was her idea.”
“That’s a lovely gesture. I’d be happy to send you a dress.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I drive back to a quiet house. Coffee has been brewed, but my grandma isn’t in the kitchen or living room. Sienna isn’t here, and the teenage boys will sleep until noon.
What will I do with my free day? How will I fill my time?
A restless energy surges through me. Pretty soon Bald Head Island will be in the rearview, taking its place in my daydreams and memories.
Klein opens his eyes when I walk in our bedroom. “Hey,” he says in that thick, sexy morning voice. “What happened to sloth mode?”
“I transfigured into whatever animal wakes up early and wants to”—options race through my mind—“walk on the beach.”
“Seagull.” Klein runs his hand through his bed-mussed hair.
I nod decisively, resisting the urge to pounce on him. An early morning walk on the beach will disappear if I give in to my desire. “Seagull. Do you want to come with me?”
Klein hauls himself from the bed.
“I am persistently impressed with your ability to fly out of those covers.”
Klein stops for a kiss on his way to the bathroom. “Just wait until you see all my other tricks.”
He runs a toothbrush over his teeth, then pulls on a T-shirt. On the way out of the house we make two coffees to-go, and then we’re on the beach, toes curling in the wet sand, foamy water crisp around our ankles.
We hold hands, and I tuck myself into his side as we walk. He’s unusually quiet, so I ask, “What are you thinking about?”
“How we only have forty eight hours left here. Despite the crazy week this has been, I’m anticipating leaving this place behind and it’s not a great feeling. It’s just like you said. This place is magic. I feel sad to leave.”
I squeeze his hand. “We can always come back. Maybe next time without the wedding shenanigans, though.”
He stops short, guiding me into his chest with the twirl of our clasped hands. He looks so damn happy, and all I can think is I put that look in his eyes. When did making Klein happy become paramount? Sometime between him consistently being in my corner, and giving me the support I needed to stand up for myself to my family.
His green-eyed gaze heats, his chin dips, and his mouth lowers to mine. Flavors of bitter coffee and cool peppermint swirl around on our tongues, our lips yielding to one another.
He smells incredible, and he tastes divine. He’s so handsome it sets an ache to my chest. This man is everything.
We come up for air when a large wave sends water around our calves.
“How are you feeling about the wedding, now that you’ve had the chance to sleep on it?”
“Great question.” I intertwine my arms around his neck, deeply breathing in that spiced apple scent of his. “My feelings are very hurt that Sienna would leave me out so easily, and for a flimsy reason. It’s clear Shane is the one with the problem, but Sienna doesn’t want to see it, and it’s easier to blame me. I think—” Movement in the ocean catches my attention. “Dolphins!”
One jumps first, then two more. Klein and I watch them move parallel to the shore before they disappear from sight.
My excitement wanes. “Those dolphins don’t care about the disaster that is this wedding day.”
“Not at all.”
I return to snuggling into Klein. “I wish my sister wouldn’t blame me for something I didn’t do, nor have any control over, but I see why she’s doing it. If I imagine today as my wedding day, and my fiancé is acting the way Shane’s been acting, maybe I would protect myself and my ego by placing blame on the wrong person. It’s easier for her to disinvite me than it is to disinvite him.”
“Divorces are expensive though.”
I snort and swat Klein’s arm. “I hope that’s not the outcome, but yes. They are expensive.”
We keep walking, and when the sun warms us a bit too much, we head up to the house. We’re walking over the dune when Wren appears at the end of the private walkway. She breathes heavily, bosom heaving as she pushes hair from her eyes. “Paisley, come quick. It’s a disaster.”
“What’s wrong?”
She gives me a look that says you won’t believe me even if I tell you. “Sienna. Cut. Bangs.”
My eyes grow so wide it actually hurts, and my hand flies up and covers my mouth with a dull smack.
“I know,” Wren says gravely. She grabs for my hand. “Sienna’s asking for you.”
Klein presses a kiss to the side of my head, murmuring, “Just tell me what you need and I’ll be there for you.”
“Thank you.” I respond with a kiss on his cheek. Pangs of already missing him hit my chest.
Wren leads me to her waiting golf cart. “You’re lucky,” she says when I climb on. “He’s hot, intelligent, and cherishes you. Basically everything a woman wants.”
Am I lucky? I guess I am, to a degree. Lucky to have chosen Obstinate Daughter from the hundred other restaurants in the area. Lucky to have gone on a night Klein was working. Lucky to have decided to drown my self-pity at the bar instead of following the bachelorette party out the door.
“There is some measure of luck to it all,” I agree, holding on as Wren careens around a bend. “But I deserve to be loved well, Wren. And so do you.” So does my sister. Is Shane the man to love her well? I don’t know. I can’t even tell. I know little of them, only what I’ve seen this week. The representation has been poor, admittedly. Maybe this week has been an anomaly in their relationship. The stress of the wedding, and all that.
Wren stays quiet for the remainder of the ride. By the time we arrive, my hair is windblown in a not-cute way.
“Paisley,” Wren stops me beside a hedge. “What you just said about deserving to be loved well? That hits.” Using two fingers she taps the center of her chest. “I hope you have a few more gems like that up your sleeve for Sienna. She’s going to need them. I don’t know what happened after I picked her up from Shane’s this morning and brought her here, but it’s not good.”
I take a deep breath and enter the bridal suite.