18. Ward
18
Ward
H e couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Every free moment he had, he filled it with her. Sometimes it worked out that they could spend the time together, other times, they talked on the phone or just texted, and when she wasn’t available to reach out to, he lost himself in his thoughts about her. It had been just over a week since they’d started spending time together, and he felt like a man without water in a desert every time he was away from her.
It was Sunday night, and he’d spent the evening with Alex and the Brewster brothers, Walter and Dustin, at Patsy’s Pizza Parlor, the only place in town the locals could really call their own. Penny had gone out with some of her friends, and now, as he sat in the dark on his parents’ front porch, he peered up at her dark bedroom window, wondering if she was home yet.
He had all but forgotten about trying to reach out to Rochelle, but a conversation with Johnny earlier in the afternoon had him picking up his phone and dialing her again. Rochelle, it seemed, had taken to stopping in at Blue Waters on a regular basis.
This time when he called, she answered, but in a clipped tone that made him feel like he was inconveniencing her. It only served to irritate him; hadn’t she been the one who wanted to hear from him? If she didn’t want to talk to him, that was fine by him.
“What is it you wanted?” she asked after a brief and awkward exchange of small talk. “I’m kind of in a rush. I’m almost to the paint store to pick up supplies for a job I start next week.”
He didn’t want anything from her. Not anymore. But he’d called her, not the other way around, and he wasn’t going to be intentionally rude. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush, either. “I just got off the phone with Johnny. He told me I needed to call you.”
Rochelle paused, then said, “Huh. I’m sorry, Ward. I’m not sure why he told you that.”
“Okay.” Ward wasn’t going to demand that she talk to him when it was obvious that she didn’t want to. He pulled the phone from his ear and glared at it a moment before bringing it back up. “Then I’ll let you go. It was good to hear from you. Glad you’re doing all right.” Liar. Well, he was, in fact, glad she was doing okay. But good to hear from her? He could have gone all summer long without hearing another peep from her. And now he sounded a little too much like an ex-boyfriend with potential stalker vibes. “Say ‘hi’ to Johnny for me.”
“Excuse me?” Rochelle’s tone changed noticeably. “Why would I do that?”
Ward closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could just hang up and pretend he hadn’t heard her response. “It was just a polite thing to say, Ro.” And why was she so upset by it? Because it was obvious that she was. “I just meant that next time you stop by Blue Waters, say ‘hi’ to Johnny for me. You’ll see him before I will, right?”
The phone line was silent for so long that he thought she’d hung up.
“Rochelle? You still there?”
“I’m here.” He knew her. Not as well as he should have after three years of dating, he realized, but he knew her well enough to recognize that tone. She was ticked off. At him?
“Okay.” He tried to inject a little more friendliness into his tone. “Listen, I gotta go. Take care of yourself.”
“He told you, didn’t he?”
The hair on the back of Ward’s neck stood on end. “Told me what?”
Rochelle made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. “Don’t play games with me, Ward.”
“I’m not playing games,” he said with a dry laugh. “Look. Obviously, this is not a good time for either of us to talk. I’m just going to hang up—”
“You called me, Ward.” She cut him off, her voice strident. “You called me,” she repeated. “Why?”
Ward took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Forgive me, Ro. I had no intention of upsetting you. Johnny hasn’t told me anything about you except that he’d seen you recently and thought I should give you a call.” He left out the part about where and how often Johnny had seen her. “That’s it. I figured we were still friends, and if he thought I needed to reach out to you, then that’s what I’d do.” He stood up and moved to stand against the porch railing, eyes on the resort across the way.
“I’m fine. I don’t know why he would think I needed you to call me; that’s all. I’m fine,” she said again.
“That’s great. Then we’re good?” He just wanted to end this ridiculous phone call.
“I have to go. I’m at the paint store.”
“I have to go, too.” She didn’t exactly answer his question, but he wasn’t going to poke the bear. “Bye, Ro.”
She didn’t say goodbye, and he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Johnny was right, Ward thought. Something was definitely wrong with her. But was it Ward’s responsibility to find out what it was? To try to help her fix it? Hadn’t she rejected his responsibility in her life by breaking up with him?
As he stared out over the water, he thought about the job Lysha had offered him at Carpe Diem almost two weeks ago. He’d heard nothing from her since, nor had he sent her an invoice for his visit. But he found himself thinking about it more and more these days. And he knew why, too.
He felt the pull of home in a way he’d never thought he would. When he was younger, all he’d ever wanted was to leave Autumn Lake and seek his fortune out in the great big world. Now, having spent nearly a year back in the community that had once been his, he felt a new ache for it deep in his bones.
He now saw the sacrifices his parents had made to release him into the wild the way they had. He saw it in the way his mother cared for his father, in the way his father looked after his mother. The way they, as a couple, and as individuals, tended to the needs of their community. He saw it in the way they paid attention to the parts of him he shared with them, and the longing in their eyes to know more, but to not press him for what he wasn’t willing to give them.
He hadn’t liked the reminder that it had been Hazel, not his parents, who’d asked him to come back. And when he’d heard the words spoken in Penny’s voice, he suddenly saw it from her perspective, and he realized how little his father and mother ever asked of him.
And how much he owed them.
But there was another reason that he was thinking about the job at Carpe Diem. Another reason he was questioning where he wanted to call home.
A reason that liked fluttery dresses and reading and good food.
If he were to even consider moving back to Autumn Lake, he’d need a job. Maybe not that job in particular, but he’d need something, and there weren’t a whole lot of options in a seasonal tourist town. He couldn’t take over his father’s business; Ted was too young to retire, and from what Ward had seen of the books, St. James Mobile Boat Repair couldn’t really sustain two full-time incomes.
He’d need someplace to live—his childhood bedroom wasn’t an option—and for that, again, he’d need a job.
And he’d need to figure out what to do with Blue Waters.
Ward sighed. He loved his company. He really did. But there were times when the unpredictability of the Pacific coast took a toll on him. Sure, the lake could put up a good fight, but the ocean could rage like there was an underwater battle going on, and it could last for days, weeks, and sometimes longer. As much as the townies complained about the WOOTS, the folks in Autumn Lake had it pretty good. On the beaches of Southern California, where millionaires were practically paupers, there was a whole caste system in play that put the South Shore-North Shore prejudices to shame. But the perks of being his own boss, of captaining his own boats, of managing his own crew, had been more than enough to sustain him before. So why was he beginning to question even the good things?
Johnny. He couldn’t ask for a better business partner. They didn’t question each other’s motivation, they didn’t step on each other’s toes, and they both took their very different roles seriously. It was one of the reasons their company thrived when so many others like theirs didn’t
His apartment. It was miniscule, to be sure, but when one had the sand and the sea in your backyard, it more than made up for the limited space indoors. The small bedroom, one bath, and the open floor kitchen, dining, and family room were more than enough for him as a single man. He’d thought, in passing, about whether it would work for a family, but since marriage and children hadn’t been on his radar—Blue Waters was his California love child, after all—the size of his living space hadn’t been a pressing issue.
Besides, Rochelle had said she’d never live anywhere but the sprawling beach house that had been in her family for generations, and Ward had figured they’d probably end up living there after they married. One day.
His community… Ward frowned as he thought about the faces that made up his circle of friends in Laguna. “Hmm.” He hadn’t heard a thing from any of them in months, now that he thought about it. Then it struck him: they were all Rochelle’s friends. They’d come with her. Or rather, he’d come with her. She’d brought him into her world, and her people had accepted him with open arms. But now that he was no longer a part of her world, it seemed that maybe he was no longer a part of what had become over the years his own world, either. At least not the one in Southern California.
Yet, here in Autumn Lake, after being gone for over a decade, Ward had known without a doubt that his friends would welcome him back as if he’d never left. Which is exactly what they’d done.
He squeezed his eyes shut, the lights of the resort still twinkling against the backs of his eyelids, and he uttered a prayer of frustration heavenward. “What am I supposed to do, God? Help me know what to do, please.”