48. Gage
GAGE
It’s late on a beautiful crisp September afternoon and I can smell the change in the air, fall is coming.
There’s a bright blue sky dotted with a few wispy clouds and all I’m doing is moping around from the cockpit of the boat.
I’m not in the mood for the gym, or a run. My charters for the day are done.
Voices in the distance carry across the water. A couple is headed down the pier, holding hands and carrying their bags, looking like they’re off on their boat for the weekend. A twinge of jealousy sparks inside of me. If I had a real job and life here, that could be Charli and me tonight.
I didn’t realize how much I would miss her when she was gone. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be wanted and needed. When we’re together I feel enough for her, but then the doubts sneak into my mind. My lifestyle wasn’t good enough before.
I’m set to sail in less than five weeks. How will I be able to say goodbye to her? She’s only been away a few days and I’m going through the motions of the day. It’s a precursor to the inevitable heartbreak coming.
Sure we text, call and even FaceTime every day despite the time difference.
I know that this is what it’ll be like when I leave here.
She’ll be in her apartment, calling me from her bed, her bed that we’ve spent so much time in together this summer.
Jesus, I’ve been practically living with her since the Fourth of July.
What the hell was I thinking, playing house with her like that?
Playing with our feelings. I knew what would happen when fall arrived.
I knew better than to let myself get too attached to her and her to me.
I need to be with her, I need her in my arms every night, and in my bed when I wake up in the morning.
If we stayed together, how often would we really see each other, every other month, so three times during the whole winter?
Plus it’s expensive to travel to the Caribbean.
It's not a drive away to a neighboring state. I’m afraid of failing at a long-distance relationship again.
Charli seems to think I’m worth it. Why is it so hard to believe that myself?
I am more mature than I was years ago and everything else in my life is good right now. But it doesn’t mean I’m not scared. Avoiding my problems has been my solution.
Even though our relationship is strong now, the physical separation might lead to us become disconnected.
I know I’m pulling away on our calls despite how cute she looks through the small screen on the phone.
The walls around my heart are building back up.
It’s the only way that I can get through this right now.
A notification pops up on my phone from Harvey.
Harvey: I’m done early tonight. Pub?
Me: Sure. Time?
Harvey: Meet in 30?
Me: See you then.
I finish the beer I’d been nursing and stare out across the harbor.
Two fishing boats are motoring through the channel, one returning and the other going out for the evening.
A seagull circles overhead, looking for something to eat.
It’s so similar to the many waterfront towns I’ve been to in the past few years.
But Seascape means more to me than the others have.
Maybe because I’ve let my guard down and started living like a local.
A short time later, I’m parked at the end of the bar at the Beach Rose Pub.
The bartender pours me my usual draft without even asking what I want.
I sit there scrolling on my phone, ignoring everyone around me.
By the time Harvey gets here, she’s passing a basket of fried pickles over the bar to him.
“Thanks,” he says grinning at her.
She nods her head. “I’m glad he’s not drinking alone tonight. Let me know when you’re ready to order more food.”
“Sure thing,” Harvey answers looking at me with a concerned expression.
She pulls Harvey a draft and hands it to him.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you look fine.”
“I’ve been busy with work and the boat,” I answer noncommittally.
“What’s next on the checklist for your journey south? I should know if I’m going too.”
“It’s boring, but a good distraction.” I grab a bite of my pickle and dip it in the spicy mustard. I list off the preparation steps robotically.
I turn to Harvey and he’s typing on his phone. “Are you taking notes?”
He looks up, mystified at my question. “Yeah. It’s important.”
“Put that thing away. I can send you a link.”
He straightens after being hunched over his device. “What else have you done this week with your girl gone?”
I take a pull from my beer, the bitter taste hitting my tongue.
“Aside from prepping, there’s a few charters booked for the week, then it’ll die down later in the month.
I won’t have time to charter while doing the final prep and loading the boat.
” The monotony of it all will get me through my days.
I’ll be alone again and no one will get hurt.
“What about you? When’s your class starting?”
“Once I enroll online, I have a year to complete the course and the tests. I still need more underway experience. I can only count days on the water, not sitting in the harbor, and some of them need to be outside of the boundary lines unless I want to be limited to an inland or near coastal license.”
I nod my head. “Makes sense.” I grab another pickle.
These things are addicting. “I also looked into taking one or two classes to start my business degree. I haven't been in school in seven years. So I don’t want to fail at writing papers and taking tests on my own money. Gabby’s been helpful in determining which school would be a good fit for me and the courses that I want to start out with first.”
“That’s good news, man.” He slaps me on the back, and I almost choke on a bite.
The bartender looks up, probably hoping she doesn’t need to perform the Heimlich maneuver on me.
Harvey waves her over so that we can order.
We both ask for fish and chips and continue to talk some more about the captain’s license.
Harvey must be a really good student because he’s firing a ton of questions at me.
By the time our food arrives, a men's soccer game is on the tv. I don’t have it in me to make anymore conversation. We watch that while we eat and head out soon after. Harvey is probably sick of me and my sad state.
After a poor night’s sleep, I go for a run and then make some breakfast for one. Munching on my toast, I scroll my phone, checking emails. A loud thumping comes from the basement. Shit. I drop my crust on the plate and head downstairs.
The old mint green washing machine is rumbling as if it’s going to die any second. So much for doing the laundry. It sputters to a slow whine and vibrates in place before settling to a stop. Changing the sheets will have to be enough for today. I’ll check with Charli later about this.
I run the vacuum around the floors and clean out the fridge.
Later on, as I’m putting the dishes away, one of the cabinet doors nearly comes off the hinges.
The place could use more than a little fixing up.
Maybe I can get to it for her before I leave.
It’ll make me feel better about not being here everyday.
After a quick lunch of leftover pizza, I run to Coastal to pick up some of her favorite foods. It’s strange being here without her.
I can’t wait to pick her up tonight at the airport. I want to make the rest of our time together special. After securing the boat, I text my mom to check in before I shower, change, and head to Boston to pick up Charli later today.
Me: Prepping the boat for departure.
Mom: I thought that Bill said the plans had changed.
WTF Bill.
Me: Not sure. I’ll see you in a few weeks. I miss you.
Mom: But what about Charli? I thought you two were getting serious.
Me: I’ll keep you posted on my travel plans when I’ll be in SC.
Fuck, now she’s calling me. “Hey, Mom.”
“Gage, what is going on with you?”
“Mom, I’m bringing the boat south. Like I do every winter.”
“But Bill’s selling the boat. And what about, Charli? You met her family and you were together all the time. Gabby told me how happ?—”
I interrupt her, “Mom, you’re not listening to me. You know I don’t stick around, or do long-distance.”
“Leaving doesn’t make your problems go away.”
No, it doesn’t. My temples begin to tighten, the stress of it all getting to me. “I know,” I say defeated.
“You don’t need to break up with her. Bring the boat to Bill and go back up north.”
“Mom, she has a life here, a business, her family.” I stand to pace the living room of Charli’s apartment. “I don’t even have a job.”
“Gage, you can figure that out. What about the YouTube stuff Bill told me about? You’re still so young. Don’t give up so soon. Think of it as a new chapter.”
“It’s not fair to her. She should have more than I can give.”
“This is different than before. You can give her your love. You do love her, don’t you?”
I’m silent for a long minute.
“Gage?”
“I do. That’s why I’m not staying. She’s too special to be disappointed.”
“You won’t disappoint her, honey.”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough, Mom.”
“You also need commitment, honesty, communication, and respect. I can’t say you’re doing those, Gage,” she says, her usually cheery tone stern.
Christ, Mom. Don’t sugarcoat it. “I thought I could figure out a way, but things aren’t off the ground yet. I need to go. I love you, Mom. I’ll be in touch.”
“Think about what I said. I love you too.”
I’m numb after that talk with my mom. She makes it sound so easy, like being in love is all sunshine and rainbows, even though we both know it’s not. This feeling, these feelings I have, are exactly why I don’t let anyone get too close to me. It hurts too damn much.
I just want Charli to be home. When she’s in my arms, things feel right.
I can focus on her and our time together.
There are still a few weeks left, we can be happy for what this is.
I grab my sweatshirt off the back of her closet, the one that she wore before she left.
Holding it up to my nose I inhale her scent, vanilla and sweetness.
Exactly what she is. Fuck. I’m absolutely pathetic.
I’m trying to smell her when she’s in another country right now.
I miss her laugh, her eyes, her smile, every damn thing about her.
Feelings of elation and panic battle in my body.
My heart is aching for her, but my head is in flight mode because this wasn’t supposed to happen.
I’m just afraid that something will fuck everything up for us.
It’s only been two months since we kissed and now my life has done a one-eighty.
l slump onto the couch and pull out my phone to look at our pictures.
Sure, the sexy pics she sent me are hot and keep me going at night when I’m missing her.
But the ones that Margaret sent my Uncle Bill are the ones that make my heart hurt.
She captured a few candid shots of us looking at each other the night we took the sail on Wanderlust. They remind me of my parents’ pictures from when they were younger, right before they got married and had Gabby.
It’s that look of pure love. A look that could be mine too.