Page 13 of Until Tomorrow Comes
Although, it’s better than ending up back at the hospital. Or in the ground.
“No, some uh… Well some shit went down.” Alan states with a wince. “He’s divorced, no kid.”
I rub at my forearms while my brother continues on.
“Listen Kat, it would be good to get away. Jack lives on the border of the Carolinas, right on the coast. It’s a small quiet town called Cape Sodus, nothing much going on.” His eyes plead with me.
I wait for my brain to offer up some form of hesitation or some logical reason to keep me in the city.
But the loud voice in my head is only screaming for me togo.
Sucking in a deep breath, I glance once more at the small mirror on the visor. My breath comes easier, and the ache in my chest lessens.
“When can we leave?”
***
“We should have flown.” I groan, finally opening the car door.
Ten hours in the car with my brother, nothing but bathroom and stretch breaks every few hours, is not my idea of fun. Not to mention the extreme discomfort from my broken ribs. However, just past the South Carolina border the pain was too much, and we stopped at a farm for a break. Luckily, my brother packed enough pillows and blankets to help soften the seats a bit. Still, at each stop, I had to move between the front and back seat way too often to try and ease the pain.
Alan laughs, shutting the driver’s side door and stretching his arms before turning toward the place I’ll be staying for the foreseeable future.
The light blue house has three levels but considering how close we are to the ocean, and what little I know of beach houses, I assume the ground level is just foundation and storage. A stone pathway off the right side of the driveway leads to wooden steps that connect to a front porch that appears to wrap around the whole house.
The sound of waves crashing close by eases the weight in my chest for the first time this week.
“You comin’ Kit-Kat?” Alan questions, breaking my trance from the beauty of the house and calmness in the air.
I turn to answer him, but my gaze lands on a sandy path on the other side of the house. Over the small hill, the ocean is just barely in sight. My entire body is practically vibrating as my feet move on their own accord.
“Why don’t you go catch up with Jackson and I’ll meet you guys in a minute? I’m just gonna…” I wave a hand toward the path, not bothering to wait for his response. My body screams in protest as I walk along the side of the house, but I grind my teeth together and push forward.
Rounding the corner, the salty sea breeze hits my face, and I pause to take in the sight before me.
The sandy beach stretches out on both sides, not a soul in sight. On one side, there’s a faint outline of a boardwalk. Aside from a distant neighboring house, there’s nothing but open beach in the other direction.
Either way will make for a beautiful walk when I’m not in so much pain.
Focusing back on the view ahead, I stop at the back of the house. There are stairs that lead up to the back deck, but underneath is what catches my attention.
String lights hang from the deck, which I imagine will be pretty when it’s dark, but all they do is highlight the piece of furniture hanging from the deck beams by thick chains.
A beautifully stained wooden pallet bed hangs in the middle of the space, with a giant gray pillow that fits the frame and a bunch of smaller pillows lining the backside of it. I move closer, running my hand along the light blue knitted blanket that’s draped along the edge.
This would be the perfect spot to read the Whitney West book Alan just got me.
Turning to face the ocean once more, I sit on the edge of the bed to help balance myself. The pallet swings just a bit, momentarily making me dizzy. I focus on the sound of the waves, and the feeling of the wood digging into the backs of my knees helps center me.
I got out.
I choke back the sob that threatens to escape at the thought.
Above me, the sound of a sliding door fills the air and pulls me from my thoughts. Glancing up through the small crack between the deck floorboards, I’m able to make out the shadows of two people. I strain to hear their voices over the sound of the ocean waves and squawking birds.
“Shit man, it’s peaceful out here.” My brother states, awe heavy in his voice.
“Mhm. My property is something just over an acre, but the closest neighbor is a mile down the beach. But she’s just a quiet older woman, only gets rowdy when her granddaughter comes to visit.” The new voice is smooth and calming. I can only assume it’s Jackson, since I’ve only ever heard him over the phone, and that was over a year ago.
