Fisher's Light
Page 25
I smile up at him as we walk through the tables of produce, throwing things into a basket that we can take down to the beach.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I was a little out of sorts last night, anyway,” I explain as we make our way to the register.
“It was because of Jefferson, wasn’t it?” he asks as I set the basket on the counter and start pulling our wares out of it.
“It’s Fisher, and yes, he’s part of the reason.”
I have no idea why I corrected him when he called Fisher, Jefferson. Why do I care if he gets Fisher’s name wrong? It’s not like Fisher gave a rat’s ass about saying his name wrong over and over. I even called him Jefferson myself last night, but that was just to piss him off. He hates that he shares a name with his father.
“It’s hard running into an ex again for the first time, it’s completely understandable. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m not going anywhere. I really care for you, Luce. I want to make this work and see where it goes.”
I nod and smile without saying anything in return. I should agree with him and tell him that I want to make this work, too. I should tell him that he makes me happy and that it’s been a long time since I’ve had a reason to smile, but nothing comes out of my mouth.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mother a few tables away and I lift my arm and wave, flagging her over to check us out. My parents had me pretty late in life; my mother was forty-five and my father was fifty-one when I was born. Even though running the inn soon became too much for them, my mother isn’t the type of person who can just sit around and do nothing but fish all day like my father. She likes to stay busy, so during the summer months, she helps out at the farmer’s market on weekends.
“Lu-Lu, I didn’t know you were coming by the market today,” my mother tells me as I lean over the table and kiss the cheek that she turns up for me. I got both my short stature and my looks from my mother. In her late sixties, Evelyn Butler refuses to grow old gracefully. She still has the same dark, strawberry blonde hair as myself, though Mom’s is now courtesy of her standing appointment at Sally’s House of Beauty every six weeks. She wears her hair in the same short, straight bob that she has for all of my life and, even after years of baking her skin in the summer sun, she still has a great complexion, with freckles across her nose and cheeks that match mine.
“It was a last minute decision yesterday evening. Stanford and I decided to do a picnic on the beach, so we’re just picking up a few things,” I explain to her.
She finally notices Stanford standing beside me and her head jerks back and forth between us like she’s at a tennis match.
“Oh! You’re still…I thought…I mean, I heard…last night. I didn’t realize you two were still together,” she stammers awkwardly.
Oh, for the love of God. Now my mother is joining the gossip mill?
Moving closer to Stanford, I slide my hand through his arm and lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Yes, we’re together and we’re very happy,” I inform her, giving her my biggest smile.
“It’s nice to see you again, Evelyn,” Stanford tells her with a warm smile. He’s met my parents a few times over the last month and my parents have been nice to him, but a little standoffish. It’s annoying and we’re definitely going to be sitting down and having a talk about it soon.
Lifting my head, I push up on my toes and kiss Stanford right on the lips. Laying it on a little thick, I know, but give me a break. My mother, of all people, needs to cut me some slack. She knows what I went through with Fisher and she knows that dating someone else for the first time in my life scares me to death. Unfortunately, she and my father adore Fisher and all they talk about when I see them is whether I’ve heard from him and how worried they are about him. I know it’s going to be much worse now that he’s back home.
“Yes, well it’s…very nice to see you again, too,” my mother says with a tight smile as she adds up our total and Stanford pulls out his wallet to pay her.
I grab the bag from the counter and try not to give her the stink eye when I tell her I’ll talk to her later. We say our goodbyes and Stanford and I walk away, heading across the street to the beach.
“I’m sorry about that. My mother is…”
“Protective of her one and only daughter?” Stanford asks with a laugh. “It’s okay, I’m a big boy. I can handle it. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.”
I tighten my hold on his arm and rest my head on his shoulder, just for myself this time instead of for show. This man really is charming and kind and I should be thrilled that he wants to be with me. I need to stop comparing him to someone else and enjoy learning about him and, like he said, see where this thing takes us. As we walk down the stairs to the boardwalk on the sand, I decide that is exactly what I’m going to do. I don’t care what anyone in this town thinks, I’m going to do what makes me happy.
Chapter 13
Fisher’s Therapy Journal
Memory Date: April 8, 2014 – 1:45 PM
“Maybe we should look into counseling again.”
Lucy’s words over breakfast run on a loop in my head. Tossing back another shot of whiskey, I hurl the empty glass across the kitchen. It shatters against the cupboards and the pieces scatter across the floor.
I’m broken, just like those fucking pieces of glass. I know it, and now Lucy knows it. Counseling isn’t going to work, nothing is going to work. She looked at me this morning with pity and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I don’t want her fucking pity.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I was a little out of sorts last night, anyway,” I explain as we make our way to the register.
“It was because of Jefferson, wasn’t it?” he asks as I set the basket on the counter and start pulling our wares out of it.
“It’s Fisher, and yes, he’s part of the reason.”
I have no idea why I corrected him when he called Fisher, Jefferson. Why do I care if he gets Fisher’s name wrong? It’s not like Fisher gave a rat’s ass about saying his name wrong over and over. I even called him Jefferson myself last night, but that was just to piss him off. He hates that he shares a name with his father.
“It’s hard running into an ex again for the first time, it’s completely understandable. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m not going anywhere. I really care for you, Luce. I want to make this work and see where it goes.”
I nod and smile without saying anything in return. I should agree with him and tell him that I want to make this work, too. I should tell him that he makes me happy and that it’s been a long time since I’ve had a reason to smile, but nothing comes out of my mouth.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mother a few tables away and I lift my arm and wave, flagging her over to check us out. My parents had me pretty late in life; my mother was forty-five and my father was fifty-one when I was born. Even though running the inn soon became too much for them, my mother isn’t the type of person who can just sit around and do nothing but fish all day like my father. She likes to stay busy, so during the summer months, she helps out at the farmer’s market on weekends.
“Lu-Lu, I didn’t know you were coming by the market today,” my mother tells me as I lean over the table and kiss the cheek that she turns up for me. I got both my short stature and my looks from my mother. In her late sixties, Evelyn Butler refuses to grow old gracefully. She still has the same dark, strawberry blonde hair as myself, though Mom’s is now courtesy of her standing appointment at Sally’s House of Beauty every six weeks. She wears her hair in the same short, straight bob that she has for all of my life and, even after years of baking her skin in the summer sun, she still has a great complexion, with freckles across her nose and cheeks that match mine.
“It was a last minute decision yesterday evening. Stanford and I decided to do a picnic on the beach, so we’re just picking up a few things,” I explain to her.
She finally notices Stanford standing beside me and her head jerks back and forth between us like she’s at a tennis match.
“Oh! You’re still…I thought…I mean, I heard…last night. I didn’t realize you two were still together,” she stammers awkwardly.
Oh, for the love of God. Now my mother is joining the gossip mill?
Moving closer to Stanford, I slide my hand through his arm and lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Yes, we’re together and we’re very happy,” I inform her, giving her my biggest smile.
“It’s nice to see you again, Evelyn,” Stanford tells her with a warm smile. He’s met my parents a few times over the last month and my parents have been nice to him, but a little standoffish. It’s annoying and we’re definitely going to be sitting down and having a talk about it soon.
Lifting my head, I push up on my toes and kiss Stanford right on the lips. Laying it on a little thick, I know, but give me a break. My mother, of all people, needs to cut me some slack. She knows what I went through with Fisher and she knows that dating someone else for the first time in my life scares me to death. Unfortunately, she and my father adore Fisher and all they talk about when I see them is whether I’ve heard from him and how worried they are about him. I know it’s going to be much worse now that he’s back home.
“Yes, well it’s…very nice to see you again, too,” my mother says with a tight smile as she adds up our total and Stanford pulls out his wallet to pay her.
I grab the bag from the counter and try not to give her the stink eye when I tell her I’ll talk to her later. We say our goodbyes and Stanford and I walk away, heading across the street to the beach.
“I’m sorry about that. My mother is…”
“Protective of her one and only daughter?” Stanford asks with a laugh. “It’s okay, I’m a big boy. I can handle it. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.”
I tighten my hold on his arm and rest my head on his shoulder, just for myself this time instead of for show. This man really is charming and kind and I should be thrilled that he wants to be with me. I need to stop comparing him to someone else and enjoy learning about him and, like he said, see where this thing takes us. As we walk down the stairs to the boardwalk on the sand, I decide that is exactly what I’m going to do. I don’t care what anyone in this town thinks, I’m going to do what makes me happy.
Chapter 13
Fisher’s Therapy Journal
Memory Date: April 8, 2014 – 1:45 PM
“Maybe we should look into counseling again.”
Lucy’s words over breakfast run on a loop in my head. Tossing back another shot of whiskey, I hurl the empty glass across the kitchen. It shatters against the cupboards and the pieces scatter across the floor.
I’m broken, just like those fucking pieces of glass. I know it, and now Lucy knows it. Counseling isn’t going to work, nothing is going to work. She looked at me this morning with pity and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I don’t want her fucking pity.
