Page 19 of Picking Pismo

Smoothing out the top of her hair, Claire replied, “Alexis texted me after you dropped me off. They ended up driving to San Luis Obispo to shop, so she won’t be home until this evening, so no rush.”

His shoulders loosened. “Great,” smiled David. “I’m glad we can take our time.”

They drove the rest of the way in contented quiet. David rolled down the windows a tad to let the salt air filter through the cab of the truck.

Abruptly, Claire spoke up with a strained voice and said, “Could you please not go this way?” She gripped the door handle with one hand, while she rubbed her other hand frantically back and forth over her thigh. “I haven’t been by the convenience store… since you know…” Her voice cracked. She gripped harder onto the door handle, squeezing her eyes shut.

At first David was confused, then the reality of it crystallized in his mind. “Yes, sorry.” He took the first available right turn. Only the edge of the convenience store peeked out on the other side of the light. He weaved his way over four blocks in a big loop. “I should’ve realized.”

“I thought…” Her voice was shaky, making his middle clench tight. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she continued, “I thought I could handle it.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, seeping into her shirt. “Apparently, I was wrong.”

David was at a loss as to how to help. Pulling into the parking lot by the pier, David found a spot and parked the car. After turning the car off, he rested his arm along the back of truck bench. Claire swiped at the tears cascading down her cheeks. Both stared out the windshield, taking in the soothing view of the ocean and pier.

Claire leaned into his arm. David took it as an invitation to wrap his arm fully around her shoulders. “I think about it all the time.” She closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. “Mom’s last minutes of life. She ran to the convenience store to get a loaf of bread to make Alexis a sandwich for her school lunch. She told my sister she’d be right back. But she walked in, grabbed a loaf of bread… and then…” Claire’s voice faded, shaking her head she stared down at her hands gripped together in her lap. David tugged Claire closer, shifting Claire rested her head on his shoulder and sobbed. “And then she was gone.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

For a long time, they sat in the truck with only the sounds of the ocean filling the cab of the truck. David wanted to help, to take away the pain, but he knew it wasn’t possible. Instead, David simply held Claire and didn’t let go. Claire buried her head against his chest. Her sobs eventually subsided. Claire pulled away, sitting straight up. She wiped under her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m a mess. I thought I could handle seeing where it happened, but I guess I’m not ready. I know it was an accident. I mean the driver had a heart attack and rammed his car straight through the convenience store right into her. The driver died on the scene too. But I go over it again and again in my head. If only… if only…” Claire clasped and unclasped her hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to burden you with this. It isn’t fair. I apologize.”

It wasn’t anything David didn’t already know. He read about the unfortunate event in the local newspaper. Everyone in Pismo knew, the front of the convenience store was still boarded up with plywood. Apparently, the glass windows were on back order.

David pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh. Nonsense. I’m glad you can talk to me about it. I’ll listen, anytime you want to talk.” He removed his finger. His gaze caught hers. “I used to think about those same things all the time after Blake died. What if I had driven? What if we had left a few minutes earlier? Or what if the music hadn’t been so loud? It’s enough to drive you into an unhealthy never-ending cycle of what ifs. You can’t do that to yourself. I know it’s hard, but I would try your best to not focus on how your mom died but instead on how she lived.”

After a long shaky exhale, Claire said, “She was incredible.” Her voice was stronger than before. “She made everything special.” Her eyes lit up, pushing out the darkness.

“I’m sure she did. I’m convinced moms have superpowers,” replied David.

“I agree,” said Claire.

“And Claire…” David added, “you’re so strong. I’m in awe of you. Alexis is lucky to have you as a sister, even if she doesn’t always show it. I know your mom would be proud of you and how you’re handling everything.”

“Thanks.” Claire pulled down the visor, flipping open the little mirror attached to it. Taking in her image, she ran a finger under her eyes. “I think I’ve cried enough for today. My blotchy red face has become my signature color.” She slammed the visor shut, turning to face David again.

Unbuckling his seat belt, and before David had time to think he replied, “I, for one, think you look beautiful no matter what.”

“I… I…” Claire stammered, rubbing her hands back and forth rapidly over her thighs. “Thanks… you don’t have to say that. I look horrible, but thank you, nonetheless.”

David opened his door. “I wanted to say it...” He slipped out, turning to look back into the truck at her. “Because I mean it. You’re beautiful.”

Her lips twitched, finally curving up into a smile. “Thanks, David.”

David closed the door, walking around to open her door. His body buzzed, sending a zing down his spine. The feeling was familiar. This wasn’t the first time he’d traveled down this road, and he knew the signs.

He was falling for Claire.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Claire, I’m home!” bellowed Alexis as she passed through the front door. “Did you miss me?”

The old wood floorboards creaked under the weight of her feet, further announcing her arrival.

“I’m in the living room!” Claire replied.

After David had dropped her off, Claire had settled onto the couch. Mindlessly, she turned on a home makeover show. Alexis appeared in the threshold between the hallway and living room.

Crossing her arms, Alexis leaned against the wall. “I’m surprised you kept the couch.” Her eyes roamed over the almost empty room with a head nod toward couch, she continued, “You’ve sold everything that wasn’t nailed down.”

Claire rubbed her hand over the top of the well-worn brown leather couch. “If I thought somebody would’ve bought it, I would’ve sold it too. But it’s way too old and cracked for anyone to want it.” She shrugged, pushing away the years of shared memories on the very couch. Her voice cracked. “We can pull it out to the curb the day we move, and the city will pick it up and take it to the dump.”

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