13 Everything Was Smoke
13
Everything Was Smoke
The next morning, I felt sick. The events of the previous days had taken their toll on me, and my body was protesting the emotional and physical burden I’d subjected it to. My mind was so exhausted that if I closed my eyes, I could almost see my neurons on the point of short-circuiting.
I didn’t know what to feel, what to think, what to do about the situation. I didn’t know if that heaviness I felt was sorrow, anger, something else, or all those things together.
Luckily, we had electricity now, and when I jumped out of bed, my absolute first priority was to take a long, hot bath.
I opened the tap, and the tub started to fill. The wind had softened, the rain now a meek drizzle. The sky was clear apart from a thin veil of clouds pierced in places by the sun. At last, the storm was lifting.
I submerged myself in the hot water. I don’t know how long I stayed there, lost, my head bursting with thoughts I couldn’t get rid of or let go. I kept thinking the same things over and over, analyzing them from every possible point of view, but instead of coming to any conclusion, my uncertainty only grew.
Filling my lungs with air, I sank my head underwater. Beneath the surface, I could hear my mind more clearly.
I was thinking about my future, my expectations, trying to figure out what to do with my life. I couldn’t make any decisions. Couldn’t step back or move forward. I was hiding in a cell of my own creation.
Smoke—everything around me was like smoke. Impossible to breathe. But as I opened my eyes under the warm water, it started to clear away. And I felt my facade cracking. There was a truth there that I couldn’t ignore. I’d always cared about what others thought of me, even if I pretended otherwise. And that desperate need for acceptance was what made decisions so hard for me.
Even when I rebelled against my father, choosing to study literature, I didn’t do it for myself alone. No, I was thinking of my mother and how much she would have liked for me to follow in her footsteps. And when I focused all my energies on being the best student, it wasn’t for me, it was to show everyone else that I could do it.
All those faceless people I let control my life because…
Because why?
I didn’t dare think of the real reasons I’d slept with Trey that night. What I was trying to show, and to whom. The resentment I felt now. The forgiveness I was incapable of offering him.
I was scared to know. To see how deep my errors ran, to have to try to accept them. And yet, if I couldn’t do that, how could I accept others’ mistakes?
How could I forgive Trey?
I went back to my room wrapped in a towel. I took a clean pair of shorts and a not-too-wrinkled T-shirt out of the closet and dressed.
Trey was in the living room, sitting at the table with his laptop open and piles of paper, pencils, markers, and rulers. He looked up. I couldn’t help but stare at the glasses on the tip of his nose. They looked good.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” He smiled. “There’s coffee. You want some?”
I went to the kitchen and poured myself a cup. I made him one, too, and took it back out there. I guess it was intended to be some kind of peace offering. An open door inviting him to try to be friends, the way he had asked me the night before.
He thanked me, and I could feel him watching me as I returned upstairs. I threw my clothes and sheets in the wash. Then I walked around the house until I got bored enough to go back to the living room. I charged my phone and tried to call my sister. Service was choppy, and with that weak signal, I couldn’t get through. I couldn’t even get my messages to send.
Thankfully, Trey’s laptop charger worked on my computer, so I could turn it on. I looked through my folders, thought of all I had to do, scrolled through my unread emails. I opened a half-edited manuscript and glanced at the most recent notes. I thought about turning in an assignment I had due, then wondered if I’d even go back to my internship.
Sharing this space with Trey was easier than I had thought. Though we barely talked, the silence was comfortable. The only problem was how much he distracted me.
I looked over at him every time he drew the lines in what must have been a blueprint or made measurements and calculated dimensions. He was concentrating so hard that lines appeared on his forehead, and he rubbed his nose and temples compulsively when he was trying to figure things out. Because the ink from his black marker had gotten on his fingers, he soon had black streaks all over his face. That tickled me.
For a moment, I was blinded by the light that entered the window. I stood and ran over to the door. The sun was out. I stepped outside. The rain was gone, the sky had patches of blue, the light was bright and warm, the damp grass smelled delightful. There was even a rainbow in the sky. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the cool, clean air. I could hear the sea again, serene.
When I opened my eyes, Trey was standing there watching me.
“I’m hungry.”
I could have said something more poetic, but my hunger was stronger than my inspiration.
“Everything we had in the fridge is spoiled,” he said. “In the cabinet, there’s just a packet of pasta, a jar of tomato sauce, some powdered mashed potatoes, and I think a jar of mushrooms.”
I frowned.
“You think the roads are okay? I know a restaurant in town where the food is to die for.”
He grinned. “A hot cooked meal. Now you’re speaking my language. Besides, I need to go to the town hall to get the blueprints for this house.”
“Let’s give it a shot, then,” I said.
I was ready to get out of there, almost as if I were afraid the world had vanished during the storm. I needed sun and air. And fries and chocolate cake. I’m a simple woman—I’ve never asked for much to be happy.
Trey had driven to the island in a huge black SUV. One of those monstrous things with a grille on the front and lights on the roof and an exhaust pipe sticking up in the back.
“Are you trying to compensate for something?”
He smiled and shook his head. “You try and drive a regular car through Kluane National Park, the Saint Elias Mountains, or the Rockies and see how far you get.”
“Did you do all that?”
“More than once. I like all that stuff: climbing, snowboarding, dogsledding… If you can do it in the mountains, I’m up for it, especially in wintertime.”
“What about staring at the countryside from a comfy seat on a porch, with a cup of hot chocolate in your hands and a wool blanket across your legs?” I smirked.
“I like that, too,” he said.
We got into his car and drove off. The roads were muddy, and much of the terrain was flooded. Where I had seen fields of green grass before, there were now lakes connected by channels of water. No matter where you looked, you could see the sun shining. When we got to town, we saw the damage: fallen branches, broken signs, gaps in the road where the water had rushed through. Access to the port was blocked, and a group of men was busy there with concrete blocks and construction materials. It had been worse than I’d thought.
The town hall was a building of wood and red brick next to the church, which was all white apart from its faded gray roof. We went inside and shut the creaking door behind us.
A woman sitting behind the information counter stood up, smiling so wide her eyes seemed to almost disappear. After a few niceties, Trey told her what he needed. She told him to fill out a form, then led us to a room on the upper floor, where she dug through the plans on a shelf until she found the correct blueprints, which she helped us copy.
We decided to walk to the restaurant, since it was close by. Trey seemed lost in worrisome thoughts that wrinkled his forehead.
In a moment of weakness, I observed his faded jeans, his tight white shirt, and his tan. There was something special about his hard, masculine features, which were handsome in a classical way. I shivered, realizing how much he attracted me and how irritated that made me feel.
Turning back to the road, I tried to think of a way to dispel those four years of resentment. Because I had the feeling there were parts of him I hated and others I accepted. And that contradiction was making me turn in circles when what I needed was to move on.
“There it is,” I said, pointing at the restaurant.
The worry vanished from his face. “I hope it’s as good as you say, because I’m dying of hunger.”
“Want to bet on it?”
I pushed open the door, and the delicious scent of fish and spices surrounded us. The place was full, and no one could stop talking about the storm. A group of fishermen were talking at one table about how much money they stood to lose if access to the port wasn’t restored. They were also concerned about damage to the potato fields on the island’s north.
I felt sorry for them, victims of circumstances they couldn’t control. From behind the bar, Ridge lit up when he saw me. “Are you all right? I called you several times, but your phone was off.”
“My battery went dead, and we didn’t have power. And even when I charged it, the signal out here is garbage.”
He laughed before looking at Trey with curiosity.
“Ridge, this is Trey. He’s friends with my brother-in-law.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” Trey said, shaking his hand.
“When did you get here? The port’s closed and even the helicopters won’t be able to land until the afternoon.”
“Two nights ago, on the last ferry.”
“And you found Old Bay? You must know the area well.”
“I’ve been here a few times.”
Ridge nodded. I had the sense that he was evaluating Trey, trying to decide whether or not he could trust him. He opened his mouth to go on speaking, but I interrupted him.
“Do you think you could whip us up something to eat? We’re starving.”
“Sure.” He glanced around. “There’s a free table over there by the window. Carlie will be over soon to get your order.”
We thanked him and took our seats. The window looked out onto the port and the vastness of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence. It was stunning.
Carlie came over in her usual bad mood, but as soon as she saw Trey, her attitude changed. Amazing what a little testosterone and a handsome face can do.
We ordered the daily special of mussels, lobster rolls, and salad. For dessert, we had a blueberry flan with lime sauce.
“Don’t hesitate to call me over if you need anything else, I’ll be right over there,” Carlie said in her snake-charmer voice. Naturally, she didn’t even bother looking at me.
As soon as she walked off, Trey turned his attention to me. “Have you known Ridge long?”
“Two and a half days, basically.”
“Really? I’d have thought it was more. He certainly seems interested in you. And me, but in a different way.” I could sense the sarcasm in his words.
I flapped my eyelashes at him like a Victorian lady. “What do you want me to say? I have that effect on people. They see me, and they just adore me.”
Trey leaned back in his chair, and I shifted nervously.
“It’s not what you think,” I went on. Carlie appeared, but said nothing as she dropped our drinks at the table and walked off again. The bitch. She batted her eyes, too. She had more of a knack for it than I did. “Ridge is like that with everyone. He’s a bit of a philanthropist and an animal rights activist. He’s…he’s a good guy.”
Trey looked at me with curiosity as I took a sip of my soda and asked him, “So you said you’ve been to the island a couple of times?” He nodded. Another thing I was finding out about him was his tendency to keep silent, to answer with vague movements you might miss if you blinked. It made me nervous, and that made it hard to keep my own mouth shut. “When was that?”
“The first time was right after I moved to Massachusetts. The second time was a few months later, when Scott tricked me into thinking we were coming for a guys’ trip, but I actually spent the whole weekend painting and putting furniture together.”
That was typical Scott. The memory made Trey grumble as if he were still irritated by it, while I pursed my lips and tried not to laugh.
Carlie reappeared to drop our dishes off on the table. We ate like wolves, only stopping to catch our breath or sigh with satisfaction. Everything was delicious, but I ate the mussels so fast I barely noticed. Then I took a bite of lobster roll and was unable to stop myself from exclaiming, “Thank you, God!”
I closed my eyes. When I opened them, Trey was gawking at me. I cleared my throat, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Why’d you come here the first time?”
“For the house. Hayley saw an ad for it in Prince Edward Island and she twisted our arms until we came here to look at it.”
That was weird. Hayley usually told me everything, right down to the most insignificant details of her life, but she’d never said anything about that.
“What were you doing in Prince Edward Island?”
This made him uncomfortable, and the color drained from his face. He set down his fork and said, “I…uh… Honestly, this isn’t the time…”
“Harper?”