Clallam Bay (A Fresh Start #2) Read online

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No.”

  “And how is that exactly?”

  “How is what exactly?” I asked.

  She scoffed. “Hello. How is it that you don’t know?”

  When I ignored her, she scoffed again, turning back to stare out the window at the truck. Or his house. Or him.

  Only God knew what she was staring at or what she wanted from me. I barely saw the guy, let alone memorized his habits. We’d only co-existed between a few waves and nods since he’d been back. What did she expect? A time log of his daily activities?

  “Well, he didn’t have a girl with him, so that’s something,” she said. “Something pretty significant from what I’ve heard. Has he brought any more girls home since he pulled in to port?”

  I shrugged. “If he has, they’ve been civil about it.” I tapped my ear. “No screaming.” I actually hadn’t seen any girls coming or going since the day I’d moved in. There were a few times I’d heard the sound of his screen door squeaking in the wee hours of the morning. But that could have just been him. To know for sure, I would have had to care enough to get up and check, but I never did.

  While Alyssa kept me informed that nothing was going on, I continued to stuff my face with Doritos. I had been stress eating them ever since the beginning of the school year—pretty much the moment I’d moved in—nearly adding on the ten pounds I never did in college. My routine workouts had been put on hold, the high replaced by the calculated execution of finding the best way to teach counting by twos. Besides, who had time for physical activities once they’d been granted the great responsibility of shaping young minds?

  Stumbling over to the couch, Alyssa plopped down beside me. “You think he has diseases?”

  I scowled from not only the question, but the cheap wine wafting off her breath. “Ew, Alyssa. Gross.”

  “I know. I know. But, seriously …” She leaned in closer. “You think he has diseases?”

  Giving her a look that clearly stated I’d rather not think or talk about it, I turned back to work on my lesson plan.

  “I think he likes you.”

  “Why? Did he say something?”

  Alyssa shrugged. “No. It was just the way he waved at you that one time.”

  I stopped mid-scribble. “That’s it? That’s all you’re basing this on? The way he waved at me?”

  Alyssa took another sip then licked her lips. “Yeah. But how about the way he helped Kaylee up after she fell like that, though? Wasn’t that sweet?”

  “Yes, it was very sweet.” I smiled at the memory. “Maybe you should run over there and offer him some of your chocolate for being so sweet,” I said, feeling a surprising pang of jealously at the thought.

  “Hailey!”

  “Then maybe I can get back to work.”

  “Girl, no.” Holding her chest as if she’d swallowed wrong, she held up a finger. “First of all, nobody calls me that but me. Me and now little Timmy. Besides, I prefer my men how I do all my meat. Disease-free.” She barked a laugh, nearly spilling her wine on the couch, and I took her glass away.

  “Okay, that’s it. I’m cutting you off.”

  I went to get up, and Alyssa reached out for me. “No, don’t cut it off, Hailey. It’s all he has. It’s all he has!” She missed and did a face-plant on the couch instead.

  When I came back from the kitchen she was snoring into the cushion. I covered her with a quilt then turned her head so she wouldn’t suffocate before making my way over to the window.

  Just as I was about to pull the blinds, the security light next door kicked on, silhouetting my neighbor’s tall frame. Instead of slinking back, I watched him take a seat in his chair and rock back and forth. His fixed wave was what broke the hypnotic spell. I returned it before pulling the blinds and heading to bed, too tired to be embarrassed about being caught staring once again.

  *

  “So he’s been back how long now?” Sonia asked.

  “Two weeks.”

  “And he hasn’t spoken to you at all? Like, not at all. Just waves.”

  “And nods.”

  “Well.” Taking a drink of her tea, she shrugged. “I did say it kept pretty quiet around here.”

  “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

  Sonia made a face that disagreed. “What’s weird? The fact that he hasn’t taken time out of his busy schedule to bake you a casserole? No. He’s a guy. He’s Coll, the ultimate guy’s guy. I doubt he’s going to talk to you unless you go talk to him first. Maybe not even then. Not if you’re unwilling to put out.”

  I nodded even though I doubted my new neighbor was really as shallow as she said and refrained from arguing the point any further. If Sonia was anything it was strong-willed. Challenging her debating skills required perseverance. I simply didn’t have the energy. I was too hungry.

  “You want cheese on yours?”

  Sonia’s brow rose in disbelief. “Are you kidding? Cheese is literally three out of the five things I’m allowed to eat. So, yes please. I want cheese. And make it a double.”

  Half her sandwich was gone before the plate even hit the table. I sat down opposite the starving bride, defensively guarding my own plate as we looked over color swatches and discussed venues and flower arrangements.

  I had only been here a week before Sonia had asked me to be her maid of honor. A request I’d found a little odd since we barely knew one another. But apparently she’d been serious when she told me other females tended to instinctively dislike her. A feeling she fully returned most of the time to pretty much everyone, except me and Bridgette—Sonia’s only friend from elementary school, but she had moved away years ago.

  I couldn’t comprehend the reasoning for all the cattiness. All I knew was it had to be true because from the very first moment they’d met, Alyssa and Sonia couldn’t stand one another. A personality clash, Alyssa had claimed just before adding that Sonia—the smug ho—didn’t have one.

  “So how’s your Mom and Dad? They taking the move any better?”

  Biting into my sandwich, I shook my head. I’d almost forgotten how homesick I was until she reminded me.

  “Still calling every day?”

  Chewing slowly, I nodded.

  “That sucks.”

  I shrugged, taking another bite so I didn’t have to answer, because in all honesty, it didn’t bother me that they called every day. It was like having a little piece of home. But since Sonia came from a broken one, one where her fisherman father had abandoned them for something better—her words, not mine—I kept that to myself.

  Whatever was going on in my life quickly hopped in the backseat once Sonia pulled out pictures of wedding dresses. And after taking one last crack at the seating chart, we packed everything up and headed out to pile it all into her car just in time to catch my neighbor pulling in.

  “I can have Jason talk to him if you want. See what his problem is,” Sonia offered, and I nearly hit my head on the trunk hood.

  “God, no. Don’t do that,” I begged as he climbed out of the cab of his truck. Sonia and I both smiled and waved as if we weren’t just talking about him.

  “Okay. Well, if you change your mind,” Sonia said after he disappeared into his house. She climbed into her car and rolled down the window. “You know where to find me.”

  Stepping back, I watched her pull out of the driveway before heading inside.

  I had just settled down to get caught up on my stories when I heard the rumble of thunder rolling in from over the ocean. Snuggling farther under my blanket, I looked out the window at my neighbor’s, knowing the time was coming for him to leave again. So it was no surprise when I woke that night to the sound of a screen door squeaking.

  It only seemed to rain on days he left.

  Chapter Three

  “So, do you get to see Mr. Coll a lot?” Kaylee asked from her perch beside my desk. Playing with the hem of her shirt, she toed the carpet. “Are you friends?”


  I smiled at her small form, finding it quite cute how she’d been asking so much about him ever since he’d helped her.

  “Mr. Coll works a lot, sweetie.” I told her what I had every other time before. “I don’t see him very often. But if I did I’m sure we’d be friends.” That caused her to look up and smile. I shooed her to her seat to get ready for quiet time.

  We were ten minutes in when Alyssa burst through the door, exciting the classroom I’d finally gotten settled all over again.

  “Oh my God. Did you hear?” she blurted then covered her mouth. Looking at me, her eyes widened before turning to the class. “You guys heard nothing,” she warned with a point of her finger. A cluster of little heads nodded, and Alyssa straightened her blouse, heading over to sit on the edge of my desk. “There’s been an accident.”

  My heart jumped, and I thought back on the daily roll call making sure everyone was present and accounted for. I wasn’t missing any students that I could remember. Oh God. Was it one of Alyssa’s students? One of the parents? Another teacher?

  “What? Who? Who was in an accident?” I asked, getting more antsy by the second.

  “Not just who, but what. You know Kim McDaniels?”

  “The music teacher?”

  Alyssa nodded. “Mmhmm.”

  “Of course. What about her? Was she in the accident? Oh, no. Is she okay?”

  The look Alyssa gave me was grave.

  “Oh God. What? She’s not okay? What, Alyssa? For God’s sake, tell me already!”

  Checking to make sure the class wasn’t listening, we continued our whispered exchange.

  “You know that big storm we got over the weekend?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I guess the worst of it was out at sea ‘cause it capsized one of the crabbers.”

  My heart sank.

  “And Kim McDaniels’ husband was on it.”

  A sadness settled over the classroom, quickly spreading like a fog throughout the town once the news broke. Not only had the sea claimed the life of Kim McDaniels’ husband, but all the men on board. The school closed. I was slowly losing my mind not having anything to do but sit and wrack my brain for the name painted on the side of my neighbor’s boat. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what it was, if he crabbed, or hopefully just fished.

  The walks I took along the harbor to help jog my memory only made me feel more out of my element, almost as if I were intruding on the ceremonious memorials that were often taking place. I witnessed a handful of them. Stood back and watched idly as single white roses were clipped from their stems and tossed into the bay. A tradition, I was told. The flower tops, they floated for a while, all gathering together in a cluster that represented the fishermen’s souls. And once they sank, the town’s mourning period was over.

  Even though businesses reopened and school was back in session, it was still in the air. The sadness. The longing of the families who had lost their loved one. There was no putting a time limit on the pain they endured. Some came to the docks to cry. Others just stared, squinting out into the big, wide blue, but all of them prayed for the safe return of the rest of the boats. The whole community did. Myself included.

  With the lack of sleep I was getting, I ate more than ever, and, as a result, had permanently paced a line in the rug from fridge to window. Every night I hadn’t woken to the squeaking of a screen door, I would look out the next morning in hopes I just hadn’t heard it. But his truck was never there. He was never there.

  “I’m sure he’s fine. I mean, wouldn’t Sonia know if he wasn’t? She is his landlord,” Alyssa reminded me. “And you know that bitch would be hunting down family, grieving or not, if it meant getting paid on time.”

  I kept my mouth shut where it concerned Sonia, even though Alyssa was right. Sonia was anal that way.

  “She’s probably charging you both out the ass for this view, too.”

  I didn’t know about charging me out the ass. All I knew was it was worth every pretty penny I had to pay. It also didn’t hurt that my parents opted for half. At least for the first year. After that, I was on my own. Then it’d probably be a different story.

  Alyssa took off later that afternoon, leaving me to watch the sunset alone on my front porch swing. But with everything going on in my head, I couldn’t enjoy it because what if my neighbor were dead? What if he didn’t have family to mourn him? Maybe I should have clipped a flower for him. Just in case.

  Turned out my worries were all for nothing. I heard his truck before I saw it putter over the small hill in our shared driveway. My heart sped while his engine stalled and then restarted before he made it to the sparse gravel alongside his house.

  My first instinct was to run up and give him a hug and make sure he was okay. But when he waved, I waved. And that was that. He disappeared into his house and I hadn’t seen him since.

  *

  “Well, this is a good thing, right? I mean, he’s still alive. Yay!”

  As much as a part of me wanted to argue with Alyssa’s reasoning, I couldn’t because who cared if he continued to be aloof or not? He was still alive and that was good, no matter how I looked at it.

  It wasn’t as if he owed me anything. It wasn’t like I expected him to take time out of his day to stop by, maybe say, “Hey, I’m back, so you can stop worrying now.” But I couldn’t help wanting him to.

  It was silly, really, putting this all on him when I could have taken the time out to go over there, maybe bake him a yay-you’re-still-alive bundt cake—I had just bought a new pan. But I didn’t.

  Who knew. Maybe he was waiting for me to check in on him. It wasn’t like anything was stopping me. Except for me.

  “Maybe I should make him dinner or something. Just take it over to say, ‘Hey, there. Super glad you’re not dead. Here’s some chicken.’”

  Picking at her salad, Alyssa nodded.

  “You think he likes chicken?”

  “It’s chicken. Who doesn’t?”

  “Well, you think he’d like Italian chicken? It’s where you cook the chicken in Italian dressing.”

  “I know what Italian chicken is,” Alyssa said, scowling up at me before going back to picking at her salad.

  “I’ve been craving it. And I always make too much anyway. But it’s not for everyone. What if he doesn’t like Italian dressing?”

  “It’s chicken,” Alyssa repeated. “And all men like chicken, Hailey. All kinds. I’m sure he’ll be beyond ecstatic to have your excess bird meat.”

  I smiled, happy to have made a plan. Now all I needed was to pick up the ingredients after work, bake the chicken, and I would be ready to make the first move as the friendly new neighbor—just a little over a month too late.

  As expected, the rest of my day moved at a slug’s pace. I had to slow myself down in order to not rush through the afternoon lessons. When the bell rang, I was the first person out the door—right after all my students had been picked up, of course. By six I was standing outside his house, working up the courage to knock.

  As the sun started to set in the October sky, I rapped my knuckles lightly against the chipped wood. When he didn’t answer, I did it a little harder. I waited so long the plate warming my hands cooled in the wind. And the moment I could no longer feel my fingers, I gave up and left the plate on his porch.

  *

  The next morning, I woke to look out the window and found the plate missing from his porch. I checked my porch, but found nothing other than tracks of dried mud the size of my own feet.

  After I scrubbed the dishes, I grabbed the broom and stepped outside, right into the embrace of an unexpected Indian summer. Breathing in the surrounding pine, I shielded my eyes from the shimmer of the water before putting broom to wood and getting down to it. I had just about finished when a shadow cast over the steps.

  “Mornin’.”

  Startled, I tightened my grip on the handle of my broom and a sharp piece of wood pierced my skin.

  “Shit,”
we both hissed at the same time I dropped the broom and he caught it. Propping it against the siding, he sat my plate on the step to grab my hand. I jerked back by reflex when he lightly ran his thumb over the site of the splinter, but his grip held me still.

  “You got tweezers?” he asked, the deep tenor of his voice vibrating from his hand to mine. The pads of his fingers were rough and callused, yet unexpectedly gentle as he rubbed soothing circles around my palm.

  No longer trusting my voice, I shook my head, sucking in a silent breath when he ducked down and took my finger into his mouth. Heat radiated through me from the warmth of his tongue. I was too shocked to stop him once I felt the light scrape of his teeth, and my entire body went numb.

  All we’d ever done before this moment was wave hello and now my finger was in his mouth.

  With a quick nip, the pain was gone before I could even flinch. But I did anyway, grabbing hold of his upper arm at the same time. I tried to focus on my breathing instead of his lips. How they pouted. How pink they were compared to his skin.

  His tongue ran over the superficial flesh wound, and I tightened my grip on his bicep when he sucked in before releasing my finger to spit the shard out onto the ground.

  “Better?” he asked, running the pad of his thumb over the broken skin.

  No longer feeling it stick like the first time, I nodded.

  “Good. Now if only my morning wood was that easy to get rid of.”

  My reaction was between a cough and a laugh. His wide smile triggered my own, and I took back my hand, promptly crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Good one,” I said, nodding at the ground. Unable to stop smiling, I squinted up at him. “That was a good one.”

  “You liked that, huh?”

  I nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, and smiled down at the ground again.

  Yeah, I liked that.

  “So, are you the one to thank for the dinner last night?” He pointed to the plate.

  “Yeah, that was me.” I gestured to myself. “Hailey.”

  “Well, it was delicious. Just sorry I wasn’t there when you dropped it off. Would have been better warm. But it was good either way.”