Page 566 of One More Kiss

Chapter2

Rexton

I rollover in the very small twin-sized bed. I’ve had a horrible night of sleep. I traveled all night, arrived in Edinburgh, had lunch at a pub after walking around a bit, and then took a train to Stonehaven. I found a little place by the water and ate dinner before turning in for the night at a little bed-and-breakfast.

Ginger says I’m crazy to come here, but I finally have both the money and time. It’s long overdue. I need to get this over with today, but right now, I just want to crawl back into bed and sleep. I long for my Alaska king bed in my loft apartment.

I’ve worked hard to build a better life for my sister and me. We nearly ended up on the streets after Dad died. But somehow, through the kindness of my neighbors, we were able to crash on sofas for a year while I got certified as a car mechanic. My teacher’s friend hired me on a trial basis, and I was able to afford a shitty one-bedroom apartment after three months of working. It wasn’t much, but it was a roof over our heads, and it kept the social workers from taking Ginger away.

It took me five years to save some money. And another three years to figure out how I’d open my own business. And two years later, I’m finally making a killing. Ginger can afford to go to any college, and she chose a good one. I offered to wait until she could come with me, but she opted to spend her summer studying in Ecuador. So, here I am, alone.

I look over at the two containers next to me. Well, almost alone.

I roll out of bed and grab a shower. I might as well start my day. Nothing has gone as planned. I had hoped to upgrade to business class but there weren’t any seats left. Then I got stuck in this small godforsaken room for the night with the world’s smallest bed. And now, I’m jet-lagged and not even wanting to enjoy myself on my first sort of vacation.

Ginger had kept telling me to spend more time over here. I know she feels guilty that I gave up my youth to take care of her, but I’d do it all again if I had to because she’s worth it.

I head out to find a small breakfast bar set up in the entry area of the bed-and-breakfast. I grab some toast and a coffee and head out toward my destination after speaking with the owner to get directions.

She says it’s about three miles. I look up at the sky. It’s a windy day. There are only a few puffy clouds. The weather says a thirty percent chance of rain, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the odds are slightly greater than that.

I pass a few other people as I walk along the trail. I have to admit, the views are pretty damn amazing. Cliffy coastlines emerge from the North Sea as a cold wind whips across the fields of grasses. There’s a single fishing boat in the distance.

I come across a bench and take a seat, setting down the small backpack that carries the reason why I am here. I lean back and contemplate all the moments that brought me to this one. I wasn’t ready to move on before now, and I’d be a lying asshole if I said I wasn’t a little hesitant to rip this Band-Aid off and leave this all in the past.

My childhood wasn’t horrible, at least not the first ten years. We weren’t rich, but we also weren’t poor. We lived in a small house in an older neighborhood. There were plenty of kids riding bikes and playing basketball at the local park. It wasn’t much, but it was good. Then one day my mom passed out while making dinner. Her cancer diagnosis was sudden, and her rapid decline was even more startling. Three months later, she was gone. Funny how life can change in a matter of seconds.

I look down the coast toward my destination in the distance.

“Come on, fucker, get your ass up and get this over with,” I mutter to myself as I stand up and sling the pack over my shoulder.

I pass a couple walking along the trail with their two kids in tow. We exchange pleasantries. I wonder what they are doing today. Probably something fun. I crack my neck as I come to stop in front of steps that go down and then back up to what looks like an island. It’s a small raised part of the land that is only connected at the base. The tide is low, and it appears you can walk right down to the beach. Perfect. I can do this right there.

I decide to tour the castle first. I’ll probably just want to go back and have a quiet meal and drink after I do what I came here for. So, I climb up to the castle and begin my tour. Memories of my parents watching Hamlet come flooding back to me. I don’t know why that’s the very last happy family memory I have, but it is. It’s the reason I’m standing here. The mind is a strange place, keeping one memory while letting ten recede without warning. Until it’s filled with just a handful of memories, little glimpses into your past, some pointless and mundane and others traumatic or pivotal.

I notice a woman who looks slightly familiar as I walk around the ruins. She glances my way twice and then quickly look in the other direction. She’s beautiful, long reddish-brown hair floats over her shoulders in flowing loose curls. It blows around on occasion in the wind. I see her reach for a hair tie, and she pulls it up on top of her head. That makes me take further notice. Her neck is long and slim. I see a dainty gold necklace wrapped around its base. She mindlessly rubs whatever pendant hangs from it between her thumb and forefinger.

I can’t help wondering who she is, why does she look familiar, and what is her story? She, too, is sporting a small backpack. She glances my way again, and we lock eyes for a brief moment before she looks away once more, heading back toward the steps leading out of the castle.

“Get yourself together,” I mutter under my breath. I’m using this beauty as a distraction from why I’m here. I clench my backpack and head in the same direction. I think the stairs down to the water were on the way in. I double back and find them. I see a few people milling around. There looks to be a cave at the base of the island…er…peninsula? I don’t actually know what the land formation is, but it doesn’t matter.

I sit down on the wet sand and wait, hoping to find a solitary moment where I can do this. I hear people leaving and glance up at the stairs. Looking around, I don’t see anyone, although the cave is dark, so it’s hard to tell. Now or never, I think as I pull out the wooden box containing the reason I came here.

“Well, Mom and Dad,” I start as I look at the box, “watching the movie that was filmed here was the last happy memory I have of you. Maybe there were others that I don’t remember, but I know you loved this place. Mom, you even said you wanted to go see it. Dad, you promised to take her. Well, that didn’t work out, did it? A lot of things didn’t work out. Promises were broken, but I’m going to see that one through. We’re here now. Ginger couldn’t come here, but she sends her love. She’s doing so great. You’d be so fucking proud of her. And…I’m alright. I’ll be fine. Things are…better than before. I wish you both were here. You know, I never thought about how good we had it. It wasn’t a special childhood, but it was a childhood. I wish Ginger had gotten the same. I know you didn’t plan it to fall apart like it did. Dad, I wish you had been stronger. I wish Mom hadn’t died, too. Shit, there’s so many things I wish had worked out differently.” I look out at the sea. It’s time.

I stand and open the box, taking out the bag of ashes. I left a small container of them for Ginger to do what she wanted with, and the rest are about to be scattered.

“Time to fulfill that promise,” I state as I open the bag. The wind picks up suddenly and the ashes go flying like a tornado. “Oh, shit,” I yelp, but it’s too late. They fly toward the cave and then I suddenly realize that the woman, the beauty from the castle is standing there with a small vase. The ashes fly at her and she bats her hands as ashes from her vase also go flying. She yelps. I watch her ashes and mine mix in the wind before a gust pushes them out to sea.

I run over to her. “Are you OK?” I call out as I approach her. Damn, she is covered in ashes. she even has ashes in her hair.

She looks shocked and then I see the tears. Fuck. She looks at me. “What the hell was that?” she asks, throwing her hands up in the air and dropping the vase.

“I’m sorry…I thought I was alone,” I explain. God damn it. I just wanted a quiet fucking moment and look what’s happened.

She wipes the ashes off her coat and releases her wild hair, running her fingers through it and then looking down at her hand. “Is this…are these…ashes?” she asks, each word getting slightly higher in pitch.

Well, this just got a lot more dramatic. Thanks a fucking lot, Mom and Dad.

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