Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
FERN
E lliot nods and pulls out a watermelon from the pantry. “Okay, so what do you want to know?”
“Your wife, where did you meet her?”
He glances at me and shakes his head. After letting out another sigh, he begins, “She was the girl next door. We were friends.”
He’s so focused on chopping fruit that I can’t see any emotion passing through his eyes. His voice is too neutral. Maybe it hurts too much to talk about her and he’s trying to control himself.
“Loving her felt natural. Her parents abandoned her and her sister often. They’d either leave them at our house or tell Mom to watch them.
“I always felt protective of her. I liked that she tried to keep up with me all the time. She’d run almost as fast as I did, and…
she was one of the boys, but she’d share her soft side with me.
At one point, I told her that I’d marry her.
I can’t remember how old we were, but we planned to live close to my parents and just surf for the rest of our lives.
“A lot of things happened when she turned eighteen. She didn’t have money to go to college, my father died, and I lost my scholarship. Her grandfather offered to pay for her college tuition but only if she moved to New York to live with him.
“Out of desperation, I suggested we get married right away. I didn’t want to lose her, and I thought that would keep her attached to me—marriage is forever.”
He releases a maniacal laugh. Once he calms, he continues, “It was heartbreaking to see her go, but at the same time, perfect. I had found a job that paid a lot. I became a stripper. She was far away, so I didn’t have to justify my second job to her.”
He pauses, puts the knife down, and keeps his breathing even. “I didn’t mean to deceive her, but I also didn’t want her to feel insecure. The job helped me pay for my siblings’ tuition, support the house, and more. My sister, Dahlia, had three daughters and her husband was a lazy bastard.
“At the time, I didn’t know that Hazel was working for her grandfather and sending me money.
My best friend Kyle pretended the money came from him.
I accepted without questioning his motives because I needed it.
Needless to say, when she was twenty-one—three years after she had left for New York—she flew to San Francisco to surprise me at work. ”
I gasp.
He nods. “You guessed it. I told her I was a bouncer, and she discovered I was the main attraction.
Not only that, but she also caught me kissing one of my customers.
It was one of the moves I had in my repertoire.
The patrons tipped well if you added a little something to the choreographies.
I never went further than kissing them, but that was enough.
“She left hurt and angry. She wouldn’t take my calls, and I gave up, assuming we were over.
Hazel was loving, but she had trouble forgiving when someone lied to her.
I didn’t look for her because I knew she’d want me to quit.
I couldn’t just abandon my family for her.
She was with her grandfather, living a wealthy life—she didn’t need me.
“My family needed me. Not only them but my best friends too. I focused on my two jobs and planned on making a shit ton of money to get her back. A few years after that, she sent me the divorce papers.”
“You still love her.”
He glances at me and shakes his head. “I’ve been told by several people, including her, that I hold onto the memory of us to avoid living. It’s probably true. I cherish the memories we shared, but if given the choice, I wouldn’t go back to her.”
I want to believe him, but a love like that can’t disappear, can it? “When did you start the construction company?”
He clears his throat. “Kyle’s grandfather died and left him a big house in Pacific Heights. We opened Magic Kings?—”
“Wait, you’re part of the original Magic Kings?”
He nods.
“Do you still own the place or is it a franchise?”
“We own every strip club around the world. Our goal is to help young kids like us work while they finish college and get their life together. It’s a safe place where they earn enough to help themselves and their families.”
“How did you go from stripping to building?”
“When we had enough money, we started buying old houses, renovating them, and selling them. You can say that it all began by flipping houses. We quit the other construction company and focused on that. Once I had enough experience, I began to work on remodeling buildings. When we started to make decent money, I started North Bay and went back to college to study for a master’s degree in architecture.
“The one I have dreamed of studying since I was a kid. I didn’t need as many credits since I held a degree in business and a Master’s in Finance—that I studied online.”
The anger I felt earlier disappears slowly, and all that’s left is admiration. “When did you do that?”
“Online, between jobs and babysitting for Dahlia.”
I’ve known he’s a hard worker, but he was almost killing himself to keep everything afloat. “So, you worked yourself to the bone to create one of the best companies in the state but you abandoned it?”
He offers me a plate packed with watermelon, cantaloupe, strawberries, and kiwi. “Here.”
“Thank you.” I pick one piece of fruit and pop it into my mouth. It’s sweet and fresh. My stomach feels less upset. Once I’m done chewing, I ask, “When did you stop stripping?”
“The moment we owned five houses, and I had to work on all of them weekly. I couldn’t afford an injury or a building mistake.”
“Why do you still have this house?”
“It’s complicated.”
I glare at him. “Please.”
“After part of my family died, this was the only thing that kept me going. I spent all my time building it, it gave me hope. I don’t know how. After I was done, I decided to donate my talent to places that needed me.”
“What happened to them?” I swallow. “Your family.”
“They were in a car accident.” He drums the counter with his fingers for a few seconds and says, “It was my fault.”
“Were you driving?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I’m responsible. It was Tiffany’s wedding—one of my nieces. I was supposed to drive them to Tahoe, but I had a lot of meetings. Dahlia, her mom, decided to drive. She was a shitty driver and worse during the night?—”
He closes his eyes, and I notice the ragged breaths.
“That wasn’t your fault.”
Elliot opens his eyes, and I see it. All the pain dims the light in his eyes. “If I didn’t put work first… I lost my mother, my sister, and two of my nieces. It was Tiff’s big day. I paid all the expenses. Their wedding would have been just perfect, but I fucked up everything.”
“You’re punishing yourself, aren’t you?”
He scoffs.
“What did I say wrong?”
“Everyone keeps saying the same thing.”
I understand what he’s going through. I lived it, but I had to get through it fast. Seven lives depended on me. “Do you know what happened to Dad?”
“The heart attack?”
“I had a fight with him the weekend before he died. He promised to take me car shopping. He didn’t because a couple of his employees called in sick.
He worked all day in the vineyard. That night, I yelled at him.
He was a self-absorbed man who didn’t give any time of the day to his family.
I told him ‘I wish the vineyard was gone. I hate you’ because I couldn’t think beyond what I needed.
“In my defense, I was the easiest child. I barely asked for anything. The night of the fire, I was crying because I thought I had caused it. He held me that night because I was filled with guilt.
“He told me that accidents happen, and unless I was the one setting the vineyards on fire, it wasn’t my fault.
He promised to take me to buy a car the next weekend.
I told him all I wanted was him and his time.
He said he’d always be with me, even miles away.
He died. Mom said it was because of the vineyard. She blamed the fire.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
I give him a sad smile. “And yet sometimes, I feel like Mom still blames me for everything. I know it wasn’t me, Mom doesn’t know about our fight, and no one knew he had a heart condition.
But I understand why you believe it isn’t.
Every time the guilt absorbs me, I remember Dad’s words and how proud he’d be of me. ”
He walks close to me, wiping the corner of my eyes. “That’s why you don’t want anyone to care for you, isn’t it? You have to be the strong one. The one that keeps everything together because even when it’s not your fault, you think it’s your responsibility to fix what broke after he died.”
I nod and rest my head on his chest, needing to lean into someone. Suddenly, I’m sobbing like a child who just lost her father. This has been happening a lot. I find myself crying for nothing, everything. The past knocks on my heart, and the memories just pour out along with the tears.
Elliot’s arms are like strong drapes, protecting me from the outside. The sun, the storms, the pain. I hold him just as tight as I need him to hug me. If I could just give him what he lost or borrow a little of what I can never have.
I look up at him, and he bends. His mouth capturing mine. I don’t know what I’m giving him or what he’s taking from me, but I’m willing to surrender it all. The pain, the love, the memories.