male fashion, I turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, glaring at me as I headed toward the sanctuary of the kitchen where I found Bryon. “Hey, Boss-man, I need some time off.”
He nodded okay while swirling a damp cloth over a little spot of spilled Thousand Island dressing. “You can run, but you can’t hide,” he said, not looking for a response as Sierra and I headed out the door.
Shaking her head, Jennifer wiped the saltwater from her eyes. The waves weren’t anything to write home about, but it didn’t matter. Just being in the water, playing with whatever size swell the gods served up was enough for her. She didn’t need big waves to get off. But it was getting late, so instead of waiting for another set, she decided to catch the next small wave. She rode it long after it broke, staying ahead of the white water, all the way onto the sand.
“You had some nice rides,” one of the locals said, flirting with her as she walked by carrying her board.
“Thanks,” she answered with that smile of hers, and with a friendly nod she kept walking up the beach. She’d been surfing at Blacks, and with hardly any traffic on Pacific Coast Highway, the drive back to Ocean Beach from La Jolla took only a few minutes.
Sierra and I had been gone now for over two weeks. If it hadn’t been for the water, she wasn’t sure what she would have done. The ocean was her sanctuary. Her bliss. She’d replayed those last few minutes over and over again in her mind, trying to figure out what she’d done to drive me away. It was eating her alive inside. It had been so long since she’d even allowed herself to feel anything for someone, and poof, just like that, I was gone. Gone before we’d even … even had a chance. Why do relationships always have to be so fucking hard?
Change comes easily for some, with difficulty for others. For me, change was a nightmare. I hated it. The betrayal. The pain. The emptiness. I would have died if it hadn’t been for Sierra. But I was slowly and painfully beginning to accept the cold hard fact that the only constant in life is change. So deal. Eventually I had to, because I was running out of money—again—and had to get back to work.
The second we pulled up in front of Hodad’s and Sierra saw Jennifer coming out the front door, she leapt out of the passenger side window and raced across the front yard directly into her waiting arms. Watching them together as I finished parking and shut off the motor was like watching two best friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. They rolled around on the grass like a couple of kids. Sierra’s tail wagged a hundred miles an hour as she tried to lick Jennifer all over her face. Jen’s hair was flying everywhere, and she was laughing hysterically. I walked around the truck, leaned against the front quarter panel and waited. After awhile they just collapsed, breathing hard, Sierra’s head on Jennifer’s chest. You could actually see the smile on that dog’s face.
Finally, Jennifer spoke to me. With her eyes still closed and her face towards the sun, her voice was soft, but her words iron. “I should kill you for taking Sierra and dropping off the face of the planet like that. You’re such an asshole.” Her words hung in the air. “The only thing I haven’t been able to figure out is how a self-centered, emotionally retarded pendejo like you could raise a dog like this. It defies logic.” Sierra rolled toward Jennifer, demanding more attention again. “Keeping my baby away from me like this,” she added, ruffling Sierra’s ears. “You’re no different from the rest of them.” Addressing Sierra, she said, “Come on, girl. Let’s go inside and see what we’ve got for you. I bet you’re starving. You look so skinny. Did he even bother to feed you?”
They headed for the front door, leaving me standing there by myself, her words hanging in the air. I’d never heard her talk like that, never heard her curse before.
It was late afternoon. The place was deserted. As I pushed open the screen door and looked around, Jennifer and Sierra were nowhere to be seen. Most likely in the kitchen, I thought. Suddenly Jennifer came up from behind, wrapped her arms around me and pulled her face into my back. She held me there, squeezing hard, not moving or saying a word. I started to turn towards her, but she squeezed tighter, holding her ground, not wanting me to face her.
“Don’t move,” she whispered. “Don’t say a word.” I could feel her warm breath through my T-shirt as she confided, “I just want to hold you.”
Her touch consumed me. It had been so long I’d forgotten what a woman’s touch could do to your soul. I stood transfixed, soaking it all in, allowing her embrace to absorb my every thought. The world around us slowly came to a stop. I reached back, gently pulling her around, her head now against my chest. We still hadn’t made eye contact. Neither of us spoke. We just held each other, holding on to what we were both so afraid of losing.
Finally she murmured, “Don’t ever do that again.” I immediately let go, thinking she didn’t want me holding her. The moment she felt me let go, she spun around and walked away, hissing at the floor, “Men are so fucking stupid.”
Baffled, I didn’t hesitate and followed her through the kitchen and out to the garden. She sat on the side of the cement planter with her back towards me. “What are you so mad about? What did I do?”
“If you can’t figure it out, then just go fuck yourself,” she said without looking up. “It’s probably what you do best anyway.”
“Jennifer—”
“Don’t Jennifer me, you prick! You disappear for weeks … take Sierra … you don’t call. Nothing. You just up and vanish. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. You never even said good-bye.”
“I told Bryon I needed a little time off.”
Her eyes on the ground, she slowly started shaking her head as if she’d come to a painful conclusion. I thought I saw a tear hit the grass. “Then you came strolling back like you’d never even left … like nothing ever happened. Like it was no big deal.” She tried to force down her tears, but couldn’t.
“Jennifer—” My heart ached seeing her cry.
“Don’t say anything. Just leave me alone.”
I was still baffled. “I don’t know why you’re so upset.”
“Get away from me. Just leave me alone.”
“Jennifer,” I pleaded, stepping closer to her, “I’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re one of the only friends I have.”
“Friends!” she snapped through clenched teeth, staring at me for the first time. “Is that all I am to you?” she asked, astonishment blurring her pain. “I mean it!” she hissed. “Get out of here and leave me alone!”
She buried her face in her hands, turning away, sobbing. Her pain shot through my heart. I dropped to my knees and reached for her. She didn’t resist. It felt as if she had given up. Her tears pushed me over the black abyss I’d been so afraid of. Without a second’s hesitation, I pulled her into my arms, squeezed her against me, and held her for all I was worth. Neither of us moved as time stood still. Her tears eventually slowed, our breathing calmed, but our hearts still raced. We were both so afraid, instinctively knowing that whatever happened next would change our lives forever.
Words were not an option.
Silently … ever so cautiously … we allowed our bodies to do what our minds couldn’t. We allowed our souls to touch … to entwine. Ever so slowly, we began breathing in each other’s being.
The soft afternoon light gently filtered through the giant Chinese elm covering the garden. Random rays of sunshine caught the highlights of Jennifer’s sun-bleached hair. The sweet smell of wisteria filled the air. A dove’s cooing blended with the faint sounds filtering in from around us. Nothing else mattered. We were together, so afraid to let go, and still … too afraid to speak.
After Seattle,