Dust to Dust: A Broken Fairy Tale
I lean my head on her shoulder and snuggle into her. “You’re the best friend a girl could hope for.”
“Shut the hell up and get in the damn car, you slutty bitch,” she says, pushing me away from her as she walks to the driver’s side. That’s my Jess.
Cutter Lane’s parking lot is packed. My heart bursts with admiration, seeing my parents’ pride and joy back up and running in its original location. Walking up to the restaurant, one might think it is an upscale beach home. The light yellow shingles are lined with bright white trim that is sparsely covered in beautiful green ivy. Two large trees shaped like round balls stand on either side of the door and are decorated with white lights, a touch my mother always insisted on. The bell above the door gives a delicate ring when we walk inside the dark oak entry way. I am instantly greeted by the bubbly new hostess my father has hired. She is one of the few new employees to come on board after the restaurant was rebuilt. My mom often took the job of hostess on evenings. She loved greeting everyone—the regulars by name, of course.
Taylor, the bubbly, busty hostess, escorts us to a table with an ocean view that my father has reserved for us. We stop and chatted with several patrons on our way before finally sliding into the cozy leather chairs. Before Taylor can start spitting off her memorized lines, Jess holds up her hand, dismissing her. “Wine. Cakebread chardonnay, and a bucket of clams.”
Jess then directs her attention back to me. “So, Holden…you—spill it.”
I blush, thinking of all the details I can tell her that would make her inappropriate side high-five me. The FaceTime conversations…late nights alone memorizing each other’s body… the slow, hard, hypnotic way he made love to me just the other night…No, those are moments best left for Holden and me.
“We’re good. No, great,” I say simply, smiling as Taylor places wine glasses in front of us. She holds the bottle towards Jess with a nervous expression.
“You can just pour it. We know it’s good,” Jess says, once again dismissing our hostess. I am sure she is glad she is not actually our waitress. “Does his controlling behavior still bother you? Or have you finally realized it’s just because he loves you?”
I smile, thinking of my mom. He is like my mom that way. “I guess I’ve realized it’s only because he loves me.” I pause, thinking of my life with Holden. “It’s just…I am so used to Holden being emotionally distant. Remember, Jess, he was the one who had up all the walls when we were younger.”
“But now you’re the one with the walls,” she adds, taking a long drink from her glass.
Dust to dust. “Let’s just say, I’ve been taking them down with Holden. I can finally say that I feel safe with him. I really think it is real this time. I just wish we didn’t spend the past fifteen years apart.” I take a long drink as Jess sits in silence for once. “Sometimes, though, I find myself worrying he’s going to realize he doesn’t have to be tied down to a family…a family that isn’t even his…and he’ll leave.” His words repeat in my head as if he is listening to this conversation: “I’ll never leave you again, Cam. You’re my everything.”
“It’s natural to have doubts. You and I both know that marriage isn’t all about the passion and romance. It’s about friendship, compromise, loving each other when you hate each other…you and Holden have always had that. Always.”
“I know.” I can’t help but smile. “I don’t think that will ever change with us, Jess. I really don’t.”
It is close to nine before my dad makes his way to our table, ready to go home. Jess and I have just finished our bottle of wine, and are giggling like teenagers when he approaches us with his rosy red cheeks beaming. “My sweet girls. You haven’t been causing any trouble over here, have you?”
We both pop out of our seats, wrapping this little man in my arms. It always amazed me that I am so much taller than both of my parents. My mom always said I got my height from my grandfather, who I never had the chance to meet.
I rub his head and give him a quick kiss on the forehead. “Looks like you’re going to be doing the driving home.”
“I already told Dave I’d be dropping his lady home.” He kisses both our cheeks. “You can pick up your car in the morning, sweetie. I have to be back early tomorrow. John and I need to meet about the Sea Girt property, and I didn’t want him coming by the house since you’ll be there, sweet girl. I don’t want you worrying about Jake while you are here, either.”
“I’m not worried about anything but getting to spend some time with my daddy.” I lie. Just hearing the mention of any member of the Waters family makes my skin crawl.
My dad’s sad eyes contradict his smile. “I know, honey. I know.”
By the time we pull onto the gravelly road, my dad and I have drifted into our own thoughts. It is something we are always good at together, comfortable silence. The slowing of the rocks churning below lets me know we are pulling up to my dad’s house. I look over at Holden’s to see the front porch light on, making me fleetingly think that I can skip up the steps and be in his arms. But he is miles away, slaving over evidence with Bridgette. Bridgette, Bridgette, Bridgette.
It appears that my slight inebriation has made my jealous side move to the forefront because my stomach muscles tightened at the thought of them together, late into the night, slaving over paperwork…partially naked...
“Earth to Camryn.” My dad’s voice interrupts my morbid thoughts. “You want to go over and check on the house?” he asks, noticing me staring longingly in its direction.
I shake my head as if that can clear the fog that is draping over my consciousness. “I just want to make sure we didn’t leave anything on last weekend,” I say, not realizing I was even going to answer yes.
I grab my purse and walk up the steps to his house. It has become such a familiar place to me, filled with memories from as long ago as I can remember. I punch in the security code on the garage and wait for it to roll open. The creaking sound of the door creeping open sounds like it could wake the entire neighborhood on this quiet street. I pause once inside the garage, remembering the Christmas Eve that Holden came back into my life. I run my hand along the counter, remembering Holden’s smoldering eyes as he talked carefully with me. It was clear, even then, that he still loved me. I know that now.
When I walk into his dark house, I pause, hairs on my neck standing at attention, feeling uncertain of my surroundings. An overwhelming need to run starts to pulse through me. I don’t even know why I came over here, other than I wanted to feel close to Holden. I hear a soft creaking noise in the back of the house and freeze. Another one quickly follows it…that is all I need to hear. I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that only a dumbass yells out, asking who’s there. I turn and run as fast as I can back into the garage and hop over the fence to my parents’ house. Once safely inside, I send a text to Dave and ask him to go to Holden’s and check everything out. I don’t care if I’m overreacting; there is no way I am going to sleep without knowing for sure if it was the house settling, or an intruder. Dave quickly replies that the officers he has outside my house would check it out. Oh yeah, I have my own private patrol this weekend. I simultaneously feel relieved and completely ridiculous. I quickly send Holden a text, telling him I love him, and hoping to remind him of me while he’s working with Bridgette. Almost instantaneously, my phone begins booming “Safe and Sound” again.
“Helloooo,” I answer, sounding a little too drunk.
“Hey babe. I wanted to hear your voice. Everything okay?” he asks, sounding far too sexy to be so far away.
“What if I said things weren’t okay just to get you down here with me?” I ask, adding a sultry tone.
He clears his throat and whispers into the phone. “I want nothing more than to be with you, babe. I’ll be done here soon. Can I call you when I get in later? Just to say goodnight?”
“I’ll be waiting for you,” I answer.
“Go take two aspirin and drink a bottled water by the time I call or yo
u’ll have a killer hangover tomorrow and be of no help to your dad,” he orders, back to his protective ways.
“Yes sir,” I reply firmly. “Love you.”
“I know.” He laughs to himself, and then goes silent for a moment. “I love you so much, Cam. I hope you’ve fucking accepted that.”
I laugh too. “I have, and love you so fucking much too.”
“Camryn Hamilton, the mouth on you,” he says in his flirty tone. Truth is, Holden loves when I curse since it almost never happens anymore. I say “oh poop” instead of “oh shit” now that I have kids.
“Call you in an hour.”
“’K,” I say and go to find my dad.
There he is standing at the stove, frying up Taylor Ham and eggs, in his pajamas and slippers. I instantly become daddy’s little girl again. He must have heard me come in because he points at the coffee pot with his egg-covered spatula. “Get some coffee, drink your water, get on your jammies, and come have a midnight snack with me. We’ve got some things to talk about.”
There’s been a whole lot of bossing around happening tonight, but it’s all been good. I lean over and kiss his cheek; he winces, pretending I am annoying him, even though I know he loves every second of it. I grab the water that is waiting for me, opting to get the coffee when I get back in from unpacking my bag and getting in my pajamas. My dad knows that a greasy meal like this is just what I need so I don’t feel like death tomorrow. I love my dad.
I unzip my bag and take out the picture of Holden and the girls, placing it on my nightstand. The girls are out having the time of their lives tonight at a haunted house Halloween party with Marcus and his family. I always miss them on their weekends away; it’s the worst part of my divorce and the only reason I have regrets about the dissolution of my marriage. They are both so much older now, and sometimes it seems as if they don’t even remember life when we were all a family. Time will only tell how much I’ve screwed up their lives, and Lord knows there will be many other things I do to completely fuck them up. I laugh to myself, hoping that isn’t true.
I get dressed in my cozy sweats, ready to pig out with my dad before I pass out in my bed. He is sitting in front of the TV, watching the news and yelling at the screen about something on the broadcast.
“Hey, sweetie,” he says, handing me my heaping plate of food, his eyes never leaving the television. My stomach growls so loud when I smell the steaming plate before me.
“Thanks, Dad. This smells awesome.” I begin shoveling food in my mouth, assuming we were going to drift into the silence we were both so good at.
Instead, my dad sits up in his seat and takes a long sip from his glass. Whisky, I am sure. “Cam, I need to talk to you about something. It’s been…well, it’s been slowly chewing away at me for too long now.”
“Dad, whatever it is, don’t let it get to you. Everything is starting to turn up for you now,” I say, unaware of his direction of conversation.
“Why do you think Jake would have been considered a suspect in the accident? There were lots of cars at the station that night—why did they focus on Jake? Is there something I need to know about him?” he asks, as if he already knows the answer. It is as if he can see right through me.
I flinch at his question, not at all expecting this was the road we were going to be taking tonight. My dad is always an only get involved when absolutely necessary kind of guy.
He continues, noticing my shock. “I have to tell you, hon, John is as messed up about all of this as I am. He is trying to get to the bottom of this as much as I am.”
I let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Dad, one thing I am certain of is that whether or not Jake is or was involved, there is no way John would ever turn in his own son. All he cares about is his image.”
My dad’s face grows sad. It is as if a magnetic pull has taken hold of his face, making it distorted and confused. My dad was above all always confident and happy. It is hard seeing him like this. “I’m sorry, Dad. Let’s just watch some TV and eat this gourmet meal you’ve prepared.” I smile, trying to change the subject to something less emotional. My dad has lost so much this year; I can’t force him to lose his best friend too.
“Cam. He does care. He cares more than you know. He’s always looked out for you, even though Mary—”
“Dad. New subject please.”
He sighs loudly. “Fine. Looks like you got some of that bossy pants attitude from your boyfriend.” He winks sweetly at me. “Tomorrow, after the lunch rush, I’ll be home. We can talk then, okay? I have to get this off my chest.”
“Sure, Dad. Anything for you.” I am too drowsy to argue.
We finally slip into our silent worlds, eating quietly, trying to forget the conversation from moments ago although it is clearly on both our minds. Holden sends me a text, bringing me back to earth.
Holden: Face time in ten. Be naked.
Me: Gross! I’m at my parent’s house.
Holden: Didn’t stop you when we were teenagers.
Me: Holden!
Holden: Fine. I just need to see you. Down to seven minutes.
Me: six. I’ll be waiting.
Holden: five…love you.
“Let me guess. Holden wants to talk to you,” my dad, says rolling his eyes like it hasn’t been a wish of his to have Holden and me together again. He loves Holden like a son, a son he never had.
I blush like a twelve-year-old. “Yeah, he just got back from the office. He’s had a busy week.”
“I’m real glad you have him, hon. Like I’ve always said, you two belong together. Like me and your mom. Nothing and no one could ever tear us apart,” he chokes up a little, “that is, other than the great Lord above. He’ll keep her safe for me, God rest her soul.”
Tears well in my eyes. “Thanks, Dad. I love him. I guess I always have.”
“I know, hon, I know,” he says still looking sad, flipping through the channels.
I leave him hesitantly, not sure if I should let him say what he wants to about John and the Waters family, but I just can’t tonight. I am too drunk, bordering on hung over by now, and just want to hear the sound of Holden’s voice before I fall asleep.
I slip into my cozy down comforter and wait for Holden. His face shoots on the screen the second I settle in, blasting “Safe and Sound.” I really have to change that tomorrow.
“Hi,” I say lazily. I try not to look at my picture on the screen. My mascara is still on, but other than that, not another drop of make-up is left. I look ninety years old.
“You look beautiful right now,” Holden says, as if he is reading my mind.
I laugh. “Please only say that when I actually do look beautiful. I’m a hot mess right now.”
His eyes close slowly and open again, looking as if they are about to eat me alive. “You are more beautiful looking like this than any other way.” Trembling down below.
“Shut up,” I say, never good at taking compliments. “How was work tonight?”
His mood switches instantly. “Ugh, crazy. I have to go in first thing in the morning…or wait, later this morning. Bridgette and Tomlin stayed back at the office, probably humping on the table as we speak…but they’re taking on the brunt of the load tonight for me. I have to be ready for opening statements by Wednesday.”
“Wow, that’s a lot to follow. Bridgette and Tomlin huh?” I yawn, not able to keep my eyes open. “At least she won’t be all over you.”
“Come on, Cam, you know you never have to worry about me. I’m yours. You’re mine. I’m just waiting for you to let me make it official.” He has a serious, sexy look on his perfectly scrumptious face.
“I’m yours, Holden. Dust to dust.” I yawn again.
He laughs and has his true, bright eyes smile on that I love. “I want it all down, Cam. I know you haven’t given me it all yet,” he says, sounding melancholy.
You have it all. I want to give you every piece of me. I smile knowingly. “You do…you will. That is, if I ever see you again. I have somet
hing I want to tell you…but it will have to wait until I get back to the city. For now, sweet dreams.” I blow him a kiss.
His full lips turn up. “I will…of you. Sweet dreams, babe.”
The screen goes blank, and I am immediately drifting off to sleep with visions of Holden floating in my consciousness.
Chapter Fourteen
Why, oh why, do people drink? I lie in bed with my eyes closed, hoping the pounding in my head will subside. After waiting half the day for the aspirin, water, and pounds of food I piled in my mouth last night to work, I finally slipped out of bed and made it to the bathroom. The house is silent, my dad having left hours before. I keep all of the lights off when I drag myself over to the sink, placing my hands on the cool marble countertop. Sweet relief. I want to lay my whole body on the cold slab of stone, it feels so good. I lift my head that feels a thousand pounds at the thought, quickly grabbing the side of my head. If Holden could see me now!
I catch sight of myself in the mirror across the room and cringe. My hair looks like I’ve just stuck my hand in a light socket, sticking out in a tangled mess all over the place. To say I have dark circles under my eyes is an understatement. It is more like the black hole of despair staring back at me saying “I told you so.” Why is it that after you hit your thirties, you lose all ability to handle a hangover? I remember being able to drink like a sailor, and then go for a seven-mile run the next day with little more than dehydration. By the look of me right now, I will need a week to recover.
I reach over and turn on the faucet to the bath, making it cooler than usual since my body feels like it is already on fire, and add some vanilla bubbles. Anything else will probably make me puke. I quickly send a text to Marcus, telling him to kiss the girls for me and that I’d call later. I lie and say I am busy with my dad, too embarrassed to tell him I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck after a bottle—or is it two?—with Jess last night. I send a text to Jess telling her we are no longer friends, that I am dying, and that I hope she feels as bad as I do.