Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Dear Goose.
I laugh out loud reading his nickname for me. Why he called me Goose, I’ll never know. It was the name my dad called me, and I went with it.
I know that if you’re reading this, I’m no longer on this earth.
I hope I’m somewhere with your mom. I’m fixing to pack up and head to you, and I know I’ll never step foot back on this place.
But I knew you’d have to go back to Driftwood Bay.
That was my last prayer for you. That you’d go back and maybe realize the love you have for that place, like your mother and I did.
But I know why you’re there. To say goodbye to it for good.
I never pried into why you left when you did, because I saw it on your face the night you left, and in the years after. Because of him. I don’t know what happened, but I’m heartbroken that the one place you loved the most was taken from you.
Goose, I just want you to be happy. That’s all your mother and I ever wanted for you. And if selling August Cove makes you happy, please know I’m okay with it.
Would I hope you would sit on it for a little while? Yes. But I know you, my stubborn girl; you want to be done with that place forever. And I can’t damn you for that.
When I fought for this place so long ago, I always dreamed of watching my grandkids run and play on that beach, sunburned with saltwater hair, like I watched you so many times.
August, I just ask one thing of you: please make sure it goes to someone good. Someone who will love August Cove as much as we all did.
I’m so damn proud of you, my girl. And know we love you so much. August, please find happiness. And we’ll miss you forever.
Love, Dad
I can’t stop the tears from falling; my heart breaks a little more rereading his words over and over.
He knew that once he left here, he would never come back. The cancer had progressed too far by the time they finally admitted him, ravaging his body faster than they ever thought.
I got to sit with him when he took his final breath. His funeral was small, but he was so loved.
“I love you,” I whisper to it as a wave emerges, hoping it’ll carry it to wherever he is.
The sun sinks, welcoming the night, while I sit there. The water coming up further to me, as if it’s welcoming me back.
I finally force myself up; sand sticks to my shorts as I grab the two empty beer cans, clutching the letter in a death grip, walking myself back to the cottage.
It’s dark. I stop and look at it. The back porch light is the only glow coming from it.
It sits so empty, just a shell of the loving place it used to be, like a ghost ship.
Making my way up the back stairs, bugs gathered around the light, being drawn to it, like I am to the cottage.
Taking the two steps up, I enter the house.
It's so quiet and dark. Throwing the beer cans into the sink, I set the letter on the counter. Feeling itchy from the sand on my legs, I have to get out of these shorts. “Damn it,” I moan out. I brought nothing with me; this wasn’t my plan.
Moaning once more, I patter my way into my old bedroom; the giveaway pile waits for me.
I reach for the shirt but stop. My hand itching for it.
I’m able to change everything, donning clean panties and pajama shorts; my bare chest is on full display while I fight with myself.
“It’s just a shirt.” Grabbing it, I yank it on, the smell engulfing me as I do.
Hauling ass out of the room. “If you go to sleep now, you’ll wake up and can leave as soon as the real estate guy gets here.
” I try to placate myself. It’s not working.
Locking the front door, I leave the sliding glass door open but lock the screen so the sounds of the ocean can try to lull me to sleep.
I lay on the threadbare sofa, wrapped in my mother’s blanket, scrolling social media.
When my hands overtake my brain and start typing in Driftwood Marina, clicking on the Instagram page that pops up.
Their smiling faces greet me as I push their pinned post: Mr. and Mrs. Westmore with their two sons, Bohdi and Kai, who has his arm around Baylee.
Both men now grown, but so much of the boys I knew still remain.
My chest aches at the sight of all of them.
This is the first time since I left Driftwood Bay that I looked them up.
And fuck, why did I do this? I want to look at all their posts, but force myself to turn off my phone.
I cry myself to sleep. That should have been me. That was supposed to have been me.
I toss and turn all night in a fitful sleep. Dreams of waves and undertows pulling me out to sea. Gasping for breath and being sucked under once again. Not knowing which way was up, confused and scared.
Seeing my mom sitting on her bed the day of the accident, and us never knowing she wouldn’t make it back home. That the sea would steal her from us.
A pounding sound jars me from sleep. I pry my eyes open, the cover over my head, forehead slick with sweat. Hoping whoever it is will go away until I remember where I am. I jump up too fast, falling back onto the sofa, trying to get my bearings straight. When the insistent knocking continues.
Annoyance and confusion cloud me as I yank the front door open, and then I lose my stomach when I see who’s standing at the front door. Hands holding two coffees and a smirk on her face.
“Baylee,” my sleep-filled voice says.
“If you think for one minute you’re going to leave this place again and not say goodbye to me, you lost your damn mind, August.” She brushes past me, and I turn after her, but I feel like I’m in slow motion while I watch her take in the house that held so many of our sleepovers.
She looks at the icebox and notices all the pictures gone; slowly her eyes roam to me.
“You’re really going to sell?” Her voice is low, tinged with sadness now.
I shrug. “Yep.”
Bay lets out a laugh; it’s anything but for comical reasons. “Come have some coffee with me; it’s the least you can do.”
I watch as she unlocks the screen, minding the two steps, knowing that they’ll get you, and sits on the bench that’s built into the porch, giving you the perfect view of the ocean.
She pushes a cup of iced coffee to the side of her, not looking behind to make sure I’ve followed.
Sitting down next to her, we’re both quiet, looking at the ocean. I don’t know what to say, so I just drink the coffee she brought me, tasting the vanilla, ignoring the flavor I now hate, but suck it down anyway. I need to wake up.
The only sound is that of the seagulls and the crash of the waves, us both speaking in our minds, but not letting the words out. I don’t even know what to say. I never thought I’d see Bay again. I’m a shit friend. Who let years go by, losing so much because of one night.
I can’t help but stare at the ring she’s wearing; the sun glinting off the pearl and the diamonds throwing prisms onto the wood. A ring that should have been mine. I turn my head fast when she turns hers. Me not wanting her to notice I was looking at the ring on her finger.
She takes a sip of her coffee and looks at me.
“I could sit here and cuss you out, call you out of your name, but I will not do that. I’m going to give you grace because I know that time in your life wasn’t the best. You were a year out from losing your mother in a traumatic way, but the way you went about everything.
” She pauses, pushing her red hair behind her ear.
“You could have done it all differently. It was like you were looking for a way out but just didn’t know how.
You needed to blame someone, so you didn’t feel like shit.
” Her words are clipped, her eyes boring into me, so that I have to unlock mine from hers, rubbing the condensation from the plastic coffee cup, trying to busy myself.
Is some of what she said true? I don’t think it is.
What happened that night changed me, yes.
But I wasn’t looking for a way out… I wasn’t.
“That’s not true,” I whisper out to her, hoping she can hear me.
“Look at me, August.”
I turn to face her; her face mirrors mine, sadness and confusion. “You didn’t have to leave me too,” she whimpers out.
Closing my eyes for a second, trying to hold the tears at bay. I can’t look at her when I say it. “You became a piece of them. I had to.” I open my eyes and they land on her engagement ring.
“You didn’t want it anymore.” She looks down at the ring.
“I know,” I mutter, the words feel like a lie on my tongue.
“I tried to force myself not to come, but when I saw you yesterday. That’s all I've been thinking about. I had to talk myself out of coming so many times yesterday. And I could hardly sleep last night, because I had to see you before you vanish once again.” Baylee stands up.
“No matter what, August, I’ll always love you and want the best for you.
I’m sad that this place won’t be a piece of your family anymore.
Something your father fought so hard for.
” She turns around and makes her way to the front of the cottage, not looking back. Just like I did all those years ago.
There on the patio, I cry like I did when I left. So hard my chest hurts; I can’t take a deep breath. Hiccups overtake my body, and I feel like everything is crushing down on me. The weight of it all is becoming unbearable; this place is trying to take me under.
The urgency to get out of here crawls up my skin.
Making my way back inside, I throw the blanket off the sofa, looking for my phone. Hitting the screen, I have a text from a number I don’t know.
Hi. Just wanted to let you know I should be arriving about ten thirty.
I look at the time and it’s ten twenty-eight.
“Shit.” Running to the bathroom, I look for a toothbrush.
“Yes!” I call out when I find a brand new one under junk in the cabinet.
The toothpaste has seen better days, but I use it.
Hurriedly brushing my teeth, I use the restroom.
As I’m pulling up my pajama shorts, there is a knock at the door. “Damn it.”
Finding my shorts still wet, I drop them where I left them last night, not having time to change.
Roaming my hand over my hair, I try to push the frizz down before opening the door, and when I do, I feel like my world has turned upside down.