2. Chapter Two
Chapter 2
His two suitcases clip-clopped over the threshold. Mason was relieved he was finally ‘home’ in his family’s vacation condo. His relief vanished when he realized how hot and stuffy it was inside. He was on a mission this trip to install a smart thermostat the family could control remotely. It would have been nice to turn on the air-conditioning before his flight left San Diego so he could have walked into a cool space.
He let go of the suitcase handles and strode the three paces to the offending ancient thermostat and turned on the air. He set the temp at a low, low sixty-three degrees. His eyes swept the room. He hadn’t been here since Christmas, but nothing had changed.
The white-tiled floor gleamed as soon as he turned on the lights. His mother had painted every wall of this condo either a strong cerulean or a soft baby blue right before her cancer diagnosis.
The expected Florida decor filled the space. The last theme his mom had chosen was sea turtles. There was a large painting created by a local artist on the wall above the couch featuring a chaotic scene of hundreds of baby turtles rushing towards the water. Mason thought it was too busy, but he’d grown accustomed to it, and it hardly registered anymore.
The cream-colored couches in the living room called to him. He’d love to lie down with the balcony door open and listen to the sounds of the gulls and waves as they lulled him to sleep. Nothing brought him as much peace as the sound of the Florida coast. This modest condo in Seaside Bay had been his place of refuge since he was a kid.
But it was too hot to lie down now. He’d start with a cold shower instead.
Five minutes later, he was in the shower, relaxing as the cool water ran over him. He was grateful to be here. Even more grateful to be here alone. The last hospital rotation in San Diego had been a grind. He wasn’t sure if it was that particular hospital or that particular city that had worn him out. He was thinking it was the lifestyle. Putting down temporary roots every twelve to sixteen weeks for the past five years had finally lost its luster. Five years, seventeen states, twenty-four cities, and three suitcases.
Well, two suitcases and a large backpack.
He’d learned early on to take only the essentials. When the first rotation took him from Atlanta to Norfolk, he’d loaded up his car and purchased a cartop carrier to haul boxes of CDs, DVDs, and books. After his third move, he’d decided life would be easier with a laptop, a Netflix subscription, and an e-reader.
Slowly, he let go of all the nonessentials. By deciding to look for gigs in larger cities, he let go of the car in his second year. No car insurance, no parking fees, no gas. Better for the environment and his bank account.
By keeping his costs low and taking long shifts, sometimes two shifts, in twenty-four hours, he’d paid off his student loans in year three. He’d kept up a quiet competition with his sister to get out of student debt the fastest. And knew he’d won, though she didn’t even know they were playing.
He’d been jealous of Erin when she got accepted to medical school. She’d followed in their dad’s footsteps by pursuing medicine. Mason had also planned to but seeing how the nurses cared for his mom as she’d battled cancer had inspired him to pursue nursing instead.
Yes, the doctors were important, too. They analyzed the facts, took input from mom and the nurses, and decided about care. But the nurses were the ones that held hands, encouraged, cheered, and did so many other things that made hospital visits and stays better. Watching them, he knew nursing was his true calling.
He knew his mom was proud of him, and that was all that mattered. His dad and sister’s teasing never pierced the shell he’d pulled around himself.
Drying off, he thought about the woman he’d met in the elevator. She said she was staying with a friend, and he’d seen her go into the condo next door. That meant she was here with Laurel or Linda. He wondered which of the Brees twins was here.
Feeling refreshed, he dressed in a light gray T-shirt and a pair of dark gray gym shorts, and finally moved his suitcases from the foyer to the bedroom that faced the beach. He loved staying here when he could have this bedroom and sleep with the balcony door either cracked when the A/C was on or wide open when it was off. He loved being lulled to sleep by the sound of the ocean.
He unpacked and put fresh sheets on the bed, staring at it longingly. He was tired, but he knew if he crashed now, it would take him days to adjust to the time-change and the jet lag.
Fighting the urge to sleep, he grabbed his cell phone and called his dad.
In the kitchen, he filled a large glass with filtered water from the fridge. He glanced into the freezer and pulled out the ice trays, which held shriveled little slivers of ice. He tossed them in the sink as his dad answered.
“Hey, Mace.” His dad sounded rushed. Oh, right, he would still be at work.
“Hey, Pops. I made it to the condo. Everything looks good.” His dad always worried about break-ins or damage from nature when they were away for an extended time. As far as Mason knew, no one had been to the condo since New Year’s when his dad and stepmom, Terry, had stayed.
“Good to hear. How was the flight?”
“Fine. No issues. Just an early start.” Mason took a long drink of water, steeling himself for the next question. “Hey, I met a young woman in the elevator. She said she’s staying next door with a friend. Next door being the Brees’s place. Do you know if Laurel or Linda are down here?”
“Oh. Now that you mention it, a few weeks ago, Paul asked if any of us were going to be there. He said Linda was planning to go. That was before you decided to take a work break and stay, so I told him none of us would be there. So, yes. It must be Lindy.”
Mason smiled, hearing his dad revert to the childhood nickname for Linda. It had been years since he’d heard it.
“Cool. That’s cool. Hey, do you mind if I replace the thermostat while I’m here? We need to get with the times and get a smart one.”
“How smart can a thermostat be?”
“OK, Boomer.”
His dad chuckled. “You know I'm not a boomer. I’m Gen X. The forgotten generation.”
“Whatever.”
“I got to run, son. Enjoy your time off. Did you decide where you’re going next?”
“Not yet. Hope to work that out soon. But I’m not thinking about anything for the next three days. I need to decompress.”
They said goodbye, and Mason put the phone on the counter. He took his glass of water and went to the balcony. Outside, he leaned against the railing and surveyed the beach. Then he took a glance at the balcony to his right. No one was there, but there was plenty of evidence that someone was staying in the condo. The heavy outdoor chairs had large yellow cushions on them. Mason knew that when no one was there, the cushions were kept inside, out of the elements. He saw a coffee cup on the small table. That in itself told him Linda was there. Last he knew, Laurel could not stand coffee. Coffee had been one of his and Linda's things. They’d enjoyed making coffee runs several days a week when they were in college.
So, Linda was staying next door. And she’d asked if any of his family was going to be in Florida at the same time. He was sure she played it off as ‘just curious’ but Mason wondered if she still hoped to avoid him.
He couldn’t blame her. He’d been an absolute jerk to her the last time he’d seen her. She’d declared she loved him, and he responded with “I’m leaving”. He was sure she hated him even with six years behind them.
He told himself he’d been immature. At twenty-two years old, after having lost his mom the year before, he couldn’t think straight half the time, let alone think about a long-term relationship.
He’d run from any sort of commitment. He couldn’t commit to a city, a job, or a girl.
A seagull landed on the balcony’s railing to his left and he turned his head to it. It seemed to look at him and nod. Mason nodded back. This is what he’d been needing. Time, the wind, the beach, and nodding to a seagull.
What he didn’t need was Linda. Seeing her again would remind him of the worst mistake he’d ever made in his life—leaving her.
He’d thought that leaving would heal his heart. He’d hoped a change of scenery would help him forget the pain of losing his mom. Instead, moving frequently exacerbated his loneliness. Meeting new people, getting lost in new cities, and adjusting to new workplaces kept his mind busy, but the pain continued to follow. He hadn’t left it behind.
But now Linda was here . Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was time to make amends and get reacquainted.
How many times had he thought about reaching out to her? A hundred? A thousand? It’d been six years. He thought about her constantly. What was she doing? Who was she seeing? Was she happy? Would she forgive him?
Maybe he’d find some answers in the next few days, while they were both in Seaside Bay. Perhaps he could leave the Sunshine State with a deeper tan, a sunnier disposition, and a restored friendship.