Chapter 13
Lizzie
Sunlight streamed through the French doors. Lizzie woke up in Sarah’s bed, white sheets tangled around her, the smell of Sarah’s perfume everywhere. Last night had been perfect. More than perfect.
She reached across the bed, looking to hold on to her but only found an empty space. The bed was already cold. She’d been up for a while.
Lizzie frowned and sat up. From the other room, she spotted movement. Lizzie wrapped the sheet around herself and padded out to the kitchen.
Sarah stood at the counter in a navy suit. Hair up in that severe ponytail. Makeup perfect. She was pouring coffee like this was any other morning.
“Morning.”
Sarah glanced up for half a second. “I have a meeting in forty minutes.”
Her voice was different. Cool and professional. Like last night hadn’t happened. Lizzie watched Sarah pull cash from her purse and set it on the counter.
“For an Uber. Or a taxi if you prefer. I’d take you in but the meeting is a breakfast thing downtown. So I’m taking the van. If I can find parking.” She let out a sort of snort that might have been intended as a laugh. She hadn’t looked directly at her yet.
Lizzie stared at the bills. Twenty. Forty. Sixty dollars sitting there between them.
“I’m not someone who needs to be left money. I can make my own way back.”
The words came out harder than she meant them to. Sarah finally looked at her properly.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean then?” Lizzie pulled the sheet tighter around herself. “Because last night, I thought—”
“Last night was a mistake.”
The words hit like cold water. She sucked in air, staring at Sarah as if Lizzie was six years old and Sarah had announced Santa wasn’t real.
“A mistake?”
Lizzie waited for Sarah to take them back. To say she didn’t mean it. But Sarah just stood there, coffee cup in hand, face blank.
“It should never have happened.” Sarah set down her cup. “I expect you to be professional about this. Don’t let it affect your work.”
“How can you say that?”
“Say what?”
“That it was a mistake. After everything—after what we—” Lizzie couldn’t finish the sentence.
“It was just sex, Lizzie.” Sarah picked up her coffee again like that settled it.
Lizzie turned and walked back to the bedroom before Sarah could see her face. Her face was doing a strange dance, trying to keep up with her emotions. Anger chased disappointment and then turned into rage.
She grabbed her phone and started texting.
Had sex with my boss last night. She just left me cash. Like I’m a hooker.
The reply came right away.
WHAT?
Lizzie sneered as she typed back. Yup. So that as dumb.
Her clothes from last night were draped over a chair. Dry now but wrinkled. She dropped the sheet and started getting dressed, hands shaking so badly she could barely button her shorts. When she was done, she stalked back into the main room, hands on her hips.
“I’m not taking your money.”
“It’s just for transportation—”
“I don’t want it.”
Sarah turned to face her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Look, I’ll leave the van and you can drive it back. I can walk and…”
“No.”
They stared at each other, neither breaking eye contact.
“And I’m not being ridiculous. I’m being clear.” Lizzie grabbed her bag. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you.”
She walked to the door. The morning was warm.
Warmer than New York. What really got her was the humidity.
The rain had made the air turn into soup.
Lizzie grabbed her phone and pulled up the maps app.
Orienting herself via the street view feature she marched forward down White Street toward the water.
The resort was along the Atlantic, and the road along the beach led right to it.
The employee housing was just a bit beyond there.
She could have called an Uber, but the walk would do her good. Back in New York she walked 20K steps a day easily. 3 miles was nothing.
She had just made it to the beach when her phone rang. She half expected Maya, wanting to know all the detail
Mom.
Lizzie almost sent it to voicemail. But her mom would just worry and call back three more times.
“Hey.”
“Hi sweetheart! How’s paradise?” The cheer in her tone was at once soothing and heartache inducing because suddenly, she missed her mom.
It wasn’t that she was home sick. No. She had just been humiliated, and yes, a little heart broken, and she wanted her mom.
She wasn’t about to tell her that though.
No way was she going to cry to her mom after a week away.
“It’s good. Warm.”
“I bet. How’s the internship going?”
“Fine. It’s fine.”
Silence on the other end of the line. Her mom had this sixth sense for when Lizzie was lying.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Lizzie.”
“Really, Mom. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. Are you homesick?”
“No, mom. I’m really fine. I just had a bad day at work, that’s all.” It was, by all accounts, the worst day of her working life thus far. But her mom didn’t need to know that part.
“Do you want me to call Jasper to have him drive down?”
“No,” she replied so loud some of the people on the beach turned to her. “I’m not a child. I don’t need my stepdad to come get me.”
Her mom let out a laugh. “I mean to take you out for a meal or something.”
“Oh. No. He did this for me. I don’t want him to know something’s off. Anyway, I have to. I’m almost at my place.” She didn’t like lying to her mother, but she also had to get off this phone.
Fortunately, her mom simply agreed. “Alright, hon. I love you. Keep your head up.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Lizzie hung up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She was walking along Smathers Beach now. Turquoise water, white sand, palm trees swaying in the breeze. Any other day it would be gorgeous. Today it just felt wrong.
A car engine behind her. Music blaring. Lizzie turned back and saw an open-top convertible fly by, full of girls in bikinis laughing and singing along to whatever was playing.
They looked so carefree. So happy. Blonde hair fluttered in the wind as the car passed her.
The entire road was lined with puddles from the heavy rains.
This one, however, was different. She paused as she saw the car slow, then do a three-point turn.
Why was it coming back?
Then she saw it.
Cynthia was behind the wheel.
“Oh, looser!” she shouted, as if they were still in high school. Then, to Lizzie’s shock, she drove the convertible into the wrong lane, right next to where Lizzie was walking–and drove straight through the puddle.
Dirty water exploded up and over Lizzie, drenching her head to toe. The girls in the car shrieked with laughter.
“Hey, aren’t those yesterday’s clothes?!” Cynthia shouted.
“Oh my gosh, stop it,” Emma shouted beside her as Cynthia made another three-point turn and drove back toward the hotel.
Lizzie stood there dripping. Filthy water soaked through her clothes, her hair, everything. It was in her mouth. Tasted like dirt and gasoline and rotting leaves.
A woman walking her dog had stopped to stare. A couple of early morning beachgoers looked over from their towels. Lizzie could see them deciding whether to say something or just look away. They looked away.
Of course they did.
She wanted to scream at them. At Cynthia’s taillights disappearing down the road. At Sarah for calling last night a mistake. At herself for being stupid enough to believe it could be anything else.
Her whole body was shaking now. Not from the cold. From humiliation and rage. And from the crushing weight of how spectacularly wrong this morning had gone.
Last night Sarah had touched her as if she were the most special person on earth. She’d whispered her name and held her close. At night, she’d slept on Sarah’s shoulder.
This morning Sarah had left money on the counter.
Lizzie looked down at herself. Her t-shirt was plastered to her body, brown water dripping onto the pavement. Her shorts clung to her thighs. Her sneakers squelched when she moved. Just like yesterday.
She sneered but knew there was nothing she could do about it now. She walked on toward the hotel. Each step made a wet sound. Water sloshed in her shoes. She must look insane. She felt it.
By the time she reached the Carlson, every part of her hurt.
Her feet were itchy from the water. Her head was pounding from crying and the humidity.
Her chest felt hollowed out. She tried to slip in through the employee entrance in the back, hoping to at least borrow a pair of dry pants and a shirt before she walked on to Stock Island.
“Lizzie?”
Chrisla stood in the hallway with a coffee cup. Her mouth fell open.
“What happened to you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Come here. Now.”
Chrisla grabbed her arm and pulled her into the break room, locking the door. She pushed Lizzie into a chair and disappeared. When she came back, she had towels and clothes in hand.
“Here. Get dry. Then you’re telling me everything.”
Lizzie took the towel and pressed it against her face. And then it all came out. Last night with Sarah. How incredible it had been. How Sarah had looked at her like she was the only person in the world. Waking up this morning. The money. The ice that had returned to Sarah’s demeanor.
“She called it a mistake.” Lizzie’s voice broke. “She said it was just sex. A moment of weakness.”
Chrisla reached out to place hand on Lizzie’s but then sat back. “Wait…Sarah Barnes is gay? Our boss?”
“Oh,” Lizzie said, realizing she’d broken her promise. “Yeah. She is. Don’t tell anyone though. It’s a secret and I think I just broke her confidence.”
To her surprise, Chrisla broke into a smile.
“I knew it. I always suspected it. It’s the way she sometimes looks at certain women.
Come to think of it, women who look like you.
I always wondered about that. There were rumors that Billy was gay and she was his bard, but I did think at times maybe it was the other way around. ”
“Billy didn’t want to get remarried after his wife died but people kept trying to set him up. Also, I suppose having a pretty young wife on your arm helped him too,” Lizzie said with a shrug. “Anyway, yes, she’s gay. But…” Tears bubbled up again and this time, Chrisla hugged her tight.
“Oh honey. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say about that. I…” she sniffed. “You smell like sewer. Say, how did you get all this gunk on you?”
Lizzie sat up, self-conscious now.
“I was so angry, I couldn’t take anything from her in that moment.
I just wanted to clear me head. I thought if I walked, I’d get some of this rage out of my system.
But halfway here Cynthia drove by and she saw me and she—” Lizzie gestured at herself.
At the filthy water still dripping off her.
“She did this on purpose. She aimed for the puddle. She even turned around to make sure she got me.”
Chrisla’s face went hard. “I’m reporting her to Sarah. She’ll get kicked out of the hotel, and her crew with her.”
“Don’t. Please.”
“She can’t just—”
“It’s my word against hers. And her friends were with her. They’re gonna support her version no matter what.” Lizzie wiped her face. Her hands were still shaking. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”
“It does matter.” Chrisla sat down next to her. “And what Sarah did matters too. That was really shitty.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with her. But I know she’s got walls up. Really thick ones.”
“Those walls are made of ice.” Lizzie stared at her hands. They were covered in dirt from the puddle water.
Chrisla was quiet for a moment. “Maybe she’s scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“I suppose if people found out now it would be really bad for her court case. Jonathan Barnes is trying to prove that she long conned his father and if it came out she’s gay that would be evidence of that. And Billy isn’t here to tell anyone that he knew the truth.”
Lizzie shook her head. She was so tired. Bone tired. The kind of tired that came from crying and walking three miles in the heat and having your heart broken before breakfast.
“I don’t care anymore. I just want to finish this internship and go home and forget any of this ever happened.”
Chrisla squeezed her hand. “Take the shuttle back to Stock Island, take a shower and change. Do you work today? Do you want me to cover?”
“You don’t have to do that. It’s my day off today anyway.”
“Alright. Head home then. I’ll come by later with a boat load of snacks and we can watch some trashy TV. I’m off at 4. Everything will be alright, yes?”
Lizzie wasn’t sure she believed that. But she hugged Chrisla anyway and was about to head for the employee housing when a thought came to her.
“How are you? I didn’t even ask. The food poisoning I mean.”
Chrisla waved a hand. “I should know better than to eat gas station sushi. Especially not on an island four hours from mainland America. I got it all out though. Figuratively and literally.” She grinned and Lizzie nodded before heading out for Stock Island.
In her little apartment, she peeled off her filthy clothes and dropped them in the trash. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to wear them again. They’d just remind her of this morning. Of standing in Sarah’s kitchen wrapped in a sheet while Sarah looked at her like a problem to be solved.
The shower water was lukewarm at best but Lizzie stood under it anyway. She scrubbed her skin until it was pink.
She kept seeing Sarah’s face. The way it had gone blank when Lizzie said last night meant something. It was almost as if someone had slowly let the shutters down right in front of her. But before that? Before that, Lizzie had been certain she saw affection in her eyes. Maybe more.
Or maybe it really was just sex to her.
Lizzie got out of the shower and put on clean pajamas even though it was only eleven in the morning. Outside her window she could hear spring breakers laughing. Music playing. Life going on.
She crawled into bed and pulled the blanket over her head.
Last night she’d fallen asleep in Sarah’s arms feeling safe and wanted and like maybe, she’d found something real.
This morning she’d been left with sixty dollars on a kitchen counter.
Lizzie pressed her face into the pillow and cried until she couldn’t breathe properly. Until her throat was raw and her eyes were swollen and there was nothing left.
Then she cried some more.