Into the light, p.4
Into the Light, page 4
I attempt to hide my smile. “I may have been misinformed. Do you happen to know if Jeremy is working today?”
She consults a clipboard. “He’s mowing by court six. But he should go on break in about ten minutes.” I thank her and head toward the courts.
Where are you, Jeremy? And why haven’t you called? I find him locking up the shed. I double back before he sees me and slow my pace, hoping he’ll catch up.
“Shay, is that you?”
I turn and smile.
“Hi.”
He runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair and adjusts his Green Oaks polo. I catch a faint scent of sweat mixed with something masculine.
“You aren’t playing today?” he asks as he falls in step beside me.
“Corey had to cancel. I was going to hit against the backboard, but it’s already taken.” Thank God for that. Otherwise, it would’ve been hard to explain my presence here without anyone to play with. “Is your shift over?”
“Not yet. I’m about to go on break.”
A silence stretches between us. I have a million questions I want to ask him. But I can’t think of one at the moment.
“Your shoe,” he says.
“What?”
He nods toward my shoe. “Your shoelace is untied.”
“Oh, thanks.” I bend down to tie it while he waits. I can feel his gaze on me and I grow self-conscious and fumble through the motions. I stand up and he’s still watching me with those gorgeous green eyes of his. Once again I lose my train of thought. Now I understand where the phrase “lost in your eyes” came from. My face heats and I adjust the bag on my shoulder to give my hands something to do. “Well, see you around.” I’m about to leave but he cuts me off.
“Wait. What are you going to do, now that you aren’t playing?”
“I don’t know. Just wait for my ride.”
“Want to join me? I’ll show you my secret spot.”
“You have a secret spot?”
“I guess it’s not so secret anymore. Come on.”
Yes!
“Here, let me take that.” He grabs my tennis bag and we walk toward the front of the club. He veers right at the fork in the path and leads me to a huge Weeping Willow tree. “Wait here.” I look around and notice there’s an opening in the leaves with a perfect vantage point of the front drive. It’s quieter under the cover of the tree, the rustling of its slender leaves the only sound. The long, wispy branches cascade down around me like waterfalls. There’s a magical quality to it, like something you’d find in a storybook. He returns a few minutes later with two Sprites. He hands me one and says, “Have a seat.” We sit with our backs against the tree, and beneath its canopy, I feel hidden. It’s strange how this tree provides a bit of an oasis from all that’s going on around us.
“I like your secret spot.”
“You can use it anytime.”
“Thanks.” I pop open the top and take a sip from the can. The bubbles dance on my tongue and tickle the roof of my mouth. It’s rare I drink soda and it feels like an indulgence. I’m acutely aware he’s only inches away. This is the closest we’ve ever been to one another, and the knowledge makes my heart beat faster. A lock of hair falls across his forehead. My fingers itch to touch it, but I keep them in my lap.
“How long have you worked here?” I ask.
“A few years.”
“Do you like it?”
He shrugs. “It’s OK. Not something I envision doing for the rest of my life.”
“I’m glad to know you have aspirations.” I wince after I say the words. I meant them in jest, but I don’t want him to think I’m judging him. “Not that there’s anything wrong with working here,” I quickly add.
“Don’t sweat it. I know what you meant.”
“So, what is it you want to do?”
He takes a swig and thinks for a minute. “I’m not sure yet. But I know I want to own my own company.”
“What kind of company?”
“Finance maybe. I like numbers.”
“A numbers guy. Are you in college?” He shakes his head. “How old are you?”
“Older than you.”
“How do you know?”
He inclines his head toward my backpack. “Because I’m not in high school anymore.”
“I could be in college for all you know.”
He grabs my bag, unzips it, and pulls out my Physics book.
“Standard senior year science class.”
“Fine, detective, you’re right. Seeing as you’re older, how are you with Physics?”
“Not bad.”
“I hate it. Maybe you can help me.” I try to keep my voice nonchalant. But I hold my breath, waiting for his reply.
“Maybe,” he says as he zips the bag back up.
I try not to let my disappointment show at his noncommittal answer. He glances at his watch. “I should be going. Duty calls.” He stands up and offers me his hand. I take it and his strong grasp flows through me, warming my body. “It’s been fun hanging out with you, Shay. I’m glad you got a chance to meet Ida.”
“Ida?”
“My tree.”
“You named the tree Ida?”
He shrugs. “Some people name their cars, I named my tree.”
How sweet is that? I’ve never met anyone who’s named a tree, or anything for that matter. I don’t point out it’s technically not his. “Why Ida?”
“It means industrious or prosperous. And I think it sounds like a wise old woman. Kind of felt fitting.” He gives me a shy smile then heads back toward the main building, stopping to throw his empty can in the trash. I stay in his secret spot under the tree, hidden beneath Ida’s canopy, not wanting to go back to reality quite yet.
Chapter 9
Jeremy – No Escape
Thoughts of Shay haunt me, even in sleep. I need to get my mind off her. I need to go The Vault. The Vault is a high-end members only sex club. Ironically Shay is the reason I joined in the first place. It’s the only place I can truly escape. Rob and I used to frequent the club. But ever since he met Veronica he hasn’t come around, understandably. Rob was always my wingman, and I sense his absence. After high school I lost touch with my friends. They all moved on, got jobs and their own apartments. I was still living at home and helping my mom take care of my grandfather. Things were tight and I knew she could use my help not only financially, but also with the logistics of his daily care. I was never resentful of them—my situation, yes. But my family needed me, and my mom taught me that family comes first.
I kept in touch with my friends initially and we tried to meet up when they came in town, but soon it became apparent our lives were headed in different directions. It was hard to find common ground. Their days consisted of studying, coffee breaks, and partying. I envied their freedom, not just because they were out on their own, but because they could choose to do what they wanted with their lives. The world was wide open and the future was theirs for the taking. I felt as if mine were an open window that was slowly closing. It was definitely a lonely time—until I met Shay. She filled that void. And then Rob did, but in a different way. He and I were both going through a tough time when we met, and it bonded us in a way that’s difficult to describe. We’re like brothers. And now he’s moving on and I feel stuck, unable to move forward but not wanting to look back. Knowing my history you’d think I’d get accustomed to being on my own again, but once you know what it’s like to have someone by your side, the void is that much stronger in their absence.
I’m happy Rob’s found someone and he’s now a better version of himself. I used to think Shay brought out that quality in me. Now she only brings out bitterness. I hate having these negative thoughts. They’re like a poison that works its way through your veins, until you can no longer see the light, only darkness. I was in a dark place for a long time. Every now and then the feeling creeps up on me, but I try to keep it at bay. I need a physical release. And since it’s too late an hour to be out on the water, The Vault will have to do.
I never saw myself joining a place like that. I can meet women on my own. But it’s hard to entertain them at my place and I’m not looking for a long-term commitment. Shay was my only serious relationship, and I just can’t see myself opening up to anyone that way again. She was everything to me. When I lost her, my world fell apart. I vowed to never put myself in a situation where someone could break me again. Maybe it’s a cop-out, not allowing myself a chance at happiness for fear it could be ripped away. I’ve never been motivated by fear. But I guess things change when you have everything to lose.
So now I play to win—in business and in my personal affairs. A business associate told me about The Vault, and when he sensed my interest was piqued, he invited me as a guest. I was curious so I accepted the invitation. The Vault wasn’t what I expected it to be. The lobby is more akin to a five-star hotel. Most members are high-powered executives looking to let loose, and the club has different rooms that cater to your every desire. It opened my eyes to a new experience where I could get lost in pleasure without having to worry about any of the entanglements the morning after brings. But mainly, it’s the only place where I can quiet the thoughts in my head. Because my thoughts inevitably always turn to Shay. For a few hours, I can be someone else. Someone who wasn’t burned by the person they trusted the most.
I check-in and head to the bar. It’s quiet tonight and I grab an open seat. A few minutes later a voluptuous redhead sits down next to me. That’s one other perk to being a member: the women have to approach you. Sometimes it’s nice to sit back and not have to think about a witty pick-up line or if the woman you’re approaching is single, or into you. She introduces herself as Tiffany. We make small talks over drinks. She’s beautiful, but in a made up way, almost too perfect. Shay is naturally pretty and never had to work hard to look good. Damn, why am I comparing the two of them? I’ve been with my share of beautiful women. And until tonight I’ve managed to keep thoughts of Shay at bay when I’m in another woman’s company. But then again, she was more of a distant memory. Seven years is a long time. And now that I’ve seen her again, it’s thrown me off balance. All of the memories I’ve tried to suppress have come rushing back, throwing me under like a tidal wave. Now I’m lost at sea, trying to figure out how to navigate the waters. And I’ll be damned if I don’t steer that ship back to shore. I’ve finally taken control of my life, and I won’t be thrown off course. Especially by Shay, for she’s the reason I was lost in the first place. I know we can’t be together. So why do I allow her to invade my thoughts?
Tiffany is looking at me, her head cocked. I realize she’s asked me something. “Yes,” I say, hoping it’s the right answer. She slides off her stool, takes my hand, and leads me to the elevators. Looks like it was the right word after all. I wonder what her fetish is. She presses the button for floor three. Ah, role playing. I’m good at that. The doors open and I follow her down the long corridor. When we reach our room, she sets out clothes for me and slips into a black leather bustier with knee high lace up stilettos. It accentuates her ample curves, her fiery hair, and the desire in her hazel eyes. She looks fucking perfect. But the only face I see is Shay’s. She’s managed to infiltrate the one place I’m able to escape her.
I should’ve known: when it comes to Shay, there’s no escape.
Chapter 10
Then, Jeremy
I didn’t intend to share my tree with Shay. But she was there and suddenly I wanted her to know about Ida. Maybe she thinks I’m crazy for naming her, but that tree is the one place in the club where I feel like myself. Like I don’t have to pretend I’m OK catering to people who look down on me. People who see me as beneath them simply because I don’t have an Ivy League education or I can’t afford the same things they can. Cocooned beneath its canopy, it felt as though we were in our own secret world. Shay’s words echo in my ears. “Maybe you can help me.” That’s twice now she’s given me a hint. This time, I decide to take her up on it. Once I’ve gotten gramps to bed I decide to text her. My fingers hover over the keys, unsure what to write.
Me: So, Physics?
It’s Jeremy. From the club. The guy who’s not bad with Physics.
Hey Shay. Ida know if I can help you with Physics but I can try.
I cringe at my own lame attempt at a joke. Maybe I should just call her. But that feels more personal, so I decide to stick with texting.
Me: You said you needed help with Physics?
I stare at my phone and immediately see the dots indicate she’s typing a response.
Shay: Yes, please.
Me: I’m working tomorrow but I have Wed off.
Shay: Wed works. What time?
Me: 5?
Shay: 5 is great. Your place?
She wants to come over? I hesitate as I look around. My eyes scan gramps’s worn recliner, his telltale afghan thrown over the arm, the linoleum tile on the kitchen floor, the dated appliances.
Shay: Nvm. We could meet at a coffee shop. I suggested it because sometimes it’s hard to get seats and it’s loud. I get distracted.
I find myself sending her my address. My mom won’t be home so that leaves gramps. I look up and sure enough, he’s sitting in his recliner in front of the TV, same as always.
“Hey, gramps.” I’m met with a loud snore. “Shay is coming over on Wednesday. I’m helping her with Physics. Just thought you’d want to know you can meet her.”
As I leave the room he calls out after me, “It’s about time!” I smile, glad to know his hearing is still intact.
I glance out the window when I hear a car pulling into the gravel drive. Shay is behind the wheel of a shiny, black Mercedes Roadster. My mom and I share a used Chevy Impala. It’s another reminder of the different realities we live in and why I need to keep my guard up. She doesn’t know I’m watching her as she flips down her visor and applies some gloss to her lips. Once she’s finished she gets out of the car and comes around the passenger side to retrieve a bag. I know I should offer to help, but I’m stunned by the sight of her. Her hair isn’t in her usual bun or ponytail but spills down past her shoulders. She walks with a grace I’ve come to think of as distinctly her. I’ve been out with girls who are pretty before, but she’s beautiful, and I don’t think she even realizes it. I open the door before she can knock and her face lights up when she sees me. It’s funny because she has that exact same effect on me.
“Nice car.”
She shrugs, embarrassed.
“This is my parents’ doing. All I wanted was a Jetta for my sixteenth birthday. My parents insisted on a Mercedes.”
“Totally normal for most sweet sixteen presents.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s all to make a statement. But it’s the wrong kind if you ask me. Someday when I save up enough money, I’m going to buy myself one.”
“You’re going to save up for a Jetta?”
“Yep.”
“Why not splurge on something fancy if you can afford it?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t care about fancy things. I’m nothing like my parents.”
From the little I know about her, I believe this to be true. She doesn’t seem to care about social classes or standing. But then again, I sense she feels some animosity toward her mom, and what better weapon to use than me. I push away the thought as I lead her inside.
“Let me take that.” I grab the bag she’s holding and hang it in the hall closet. “Want the grand tour?” She nods. “I should warn you, it’s not all that grand.”
She laughs. I live in a three-bedroom ranch so it doesn’t take that long. I also intentionally only showed her the common areas.
“It’s very homey,” she says as she runs her fingers over mom’s “The secret ingredient is love” plaque. “And it smells so good in here.”
“My mom is a good cook. She made dinner earlier because she had to work tonight. She likes making things and then freezing them.”
“I don’t think my mother has ever used our kitchen. It must be so nice to have home-cooked meals all the time.”
“It is.” It’s not something I’ve ever really thought about. “Although our schedules are so different, we don’t often end up eating them together.”
“That’s too bad. What does your mom do?”
“She’s a receptionist and then most nights she waitresses at Lulu’s diner. Have you been?” She shakes her head. “You should try it. They have the best desserts.”
“Maybe we’ll go sometime.”
Another casual comment that she wants to spend time with me. But from the way she’s holding her breath, I can tell it’s more than a casual suggestion. I want to take the reins and ask her out, but I’m not quite there yet.
“Maybe.”
Her shoulders sag and I try to not to let her disappointment get to me. “We can work in the family room. Just a heads up my grandfather likes to hang out in there. He lives with us.”
“I don’t mind. I’d love to meet him.”
I lead the way and gramps is sitting in his recliner, his afghan on his lap.
“This is my gramps. Gramps, this is Shay.”
“How do you do?” she asks, extending a hand.
“Very well, young lady. Are you the dancer?”
She seems surprised he knows who she is.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“What kind of dance?”
“Ballet.”
“Ah, you must be very disciplined. Beautiful but a tough art form, am I right?”
