Fading (20 page)

"Crap!"

Reaching out both of his hands, I grab tightly onto Ryan's wrists as he pulls me out of the soggy mud.

"You're a complete mess."

"Yeah, I know," I say with a muddy face and now a muddy ass. I feel absolutely disgusting.

I keep ahold of Ryan's arm until we finally reach the bottom and let go. Jase and Mark are several steps in front of us, apparently lost in their own conversation, and it's not long before Ryan and I start talking about his job.

"So, how did you come about owning a bar?" I ask.

"Just kind of fell into it. When I graduated college, the economy was starting to decline, and I couldn't find a job. So, when I found out that the previous owner of that bar was about to shut the place down, I worked out a deal with him and was able to do a slow buyout."

"You went to U-Dub?"

"Yeah, I graduated back in 2007."

"So, that makes you...?"

Laughing at me, he says, "Twenty-eight."

"What did you study?"

"Business Finance. So, it wasn't too far out of reach that I would come to own my own business."

"You enjoy it?"

"I do. When I did the buyout, I changed the whole place out and created a new vibe for it. It wasn't before long that the business was taking off quicker than I expected. At this point, the staff pretty much runs the place, and I have a trustworthy manager, so my schedule is very flexible."

"Sounds like the perfect job."

"You ever been there?"

Looking over at him and smiling, I say, "No. I don't really ever go out." I shake my head and continue, "I'm sort of a work-a-holic. Jase is always nagging me about that."

"Well, you should stop by sometime."

"Yeah. Maybe."

He laughs and says, "You're full of shit, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Maybe," I say, chuckling back at him.

Still laughing, he shakes his head at me as we continue the hike back.

When we finally reach the car, all of us are a mess, wet and covered in mud. I grab one of the towels that is in the back of the Range Rover and attempt to clean myself off, but at this point, most of the mud has dried and is now a hard, crusty matting on my clothes and face. Not wanting to drive all the back in these clothes, I ask Jase if he brought any extra. He tells me that Mark keeps a bag full of clean clothes in the back for when he goes to the gym. I reach in, grab his gym bag, and pull out a t-shirt and athletic pants, along with a dry pair of socks. I wouldn't think twice about changing in front of Jase, but I tell Mark and Ryan to go sit in the front so that I can change. Mark laughs at me, but gets in the car along with Ryan. I quickly strip out of my soggy clothes and Jase hands me the clean ones. Once I am good to go, I hop into the back seat and snuggle up tightly with Jase to try and warm up.

After everyone has showered and cleaned up, we all sit around the living room and tune into the Washington vs. Colorado football game. Mark throws a few logs of wood into the fireplace, and I go to get a bottle of wine from the kitchen. Mark and I have the same taste in wine, so we decide to share a bottle while the other two drink beer.

"What kind of pizza do you want, Candace?" Ryan hollers to me from the other room.

While I am opening the wine I shout back, "I don't care. I'll eat anything at this point."

As I walk back in with the wine and two glasses, Ryan is on his cell ordering dinner, and Jase is already finishing his first beer and watching the pre-game show on TV. We sit around, talking about our day and begin planning our next hike and the other trails we want to explore.

After a couple hours and way too much pizza, I lie back on the couch and laugh at Jase who has had a few too many beers and is screaming at the TV at a penalty call. Enjoying the entertainment of his theatrics, I hear my phone ring from the kitchen. Before I can get off the couch, Jase runs in and answers it with an obnoxious slur. When I stand up, he is walking my way, holding the phone out and mouthing 'I'm sorry' to me.

"Who is it?" I whisper as I take the phone from his hands, and he quietly says, "Your mother."

I walk out to the back patio when I finally say, "Hi, Mom."

"Jesus, Candace! I have been trying to get ahold of you for over a week. Why haven't you returned any of my calls?"

"Sorry, I've been busy and I guess a little distracted lately." Truth is, I have been purposely avoiding her calls. Thanksgiving is this Thursday, and she loves putting on a show at the country club. God knows the woman would never lift a finger in the kitchen, so for my whole life, every holiday dinner has been at the club.

"Well, your father and I were wondering when you were coming home?"

"Umm...I have a lot of schoolwork to get done, so I won't have much time," I lie. "What time are the reservations for?"

"That's it? You are just going to come for dinner? We haven't seen you in three months!"

Why does she do this? She always wants me to call her and visit her, but when I do, all she does is criticize me. "Mom, I'm really pressed for time, plus I am not sure when I have to work." Another lie.

"Well, that's just great! I had invited the Anderson's over for brunch Saturday morning. Now, I will have to rudely cancel."

My heart skips a beat when I question loudly, "Why would you do that, Mother?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mom! I haven't spoken with Jack in months." God, I hate saying his name. My stomach is knotting up just talking about this. But what the hell is she thinking? Why would she invite his parents over and just assume I was involved with that asshole?

"Well, what happened?"

"Nothing, Mom. We just didn't have anything in common."

"So, you ruin yet another possible relationship. What did you say to him?"

"Of course this is my fault, right?" I yell at her. "You are unbelievable, Mother!"

"I just have to wonder why, at the age of twenty-two, you have yet to meet anyone." Her voice is like ice to me, and I lose it.

"Why does it matter? Why do you even care? I wish you would show as much interest in me as you do my non-existent dating life." My voice is harsh and loud.

"Candace. Please. This is so childish of you to always yell at me when you don't like what I have to say. I'm just concerned, that's all."

"Well, Jack's a fucking asshole! I'll see you Wednesday, Mother," I spit out then hang up before I give her a chance to respond. God, she drives me absolutely crazy.

Shoving the phone in my pocket, I sit down on one of the chairs and stare up at the black sky. I take a moment to quell the tears that are threatening and breathe. I need to collect myself before going back inside. When I do get up and turn back to the house, I see Ryan watching me through the double French doors. He opens one of the doors and asks, "You okay?"

Not wanting to let this ruin my evening, I brush it off and laugh. "My mother's lost her mind, that's all."

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks when I walk past him.

Turning around to face him, I casually say, "Nothing to really talk about." Then I walk back into the living room and lie back down on the couch next to Jase.

"What did she want?" he asks.

"She wanted to know when I would be home for Thanksgiving."

"When are you going to leave?" Mark asks.

I watch Ryan walk back into the room and take a seat on the fireplace stoop. Looking back over at Mark, I say, "I told her I would be there Wednesday night. I'll probably leave Saturday morning." Turning my head to Jase, I ask, "When are you guys heading out?"

"Our flight leaves around noon on Tuesday," he says. Mark is taking Jase home with him to meet his parents in Ohio. Jase has been nervous about meeting Mark's parents, but I know it'll be fine. From what Mark has told us, his family is more than accepting of his sexuality. I am so happy that Mark and Jase were able to work everything out between them because they are so happy together.

"When do you guys get back?"

"Late Sunday afternoon."

I roll onto my side and ask Ryan what his plans are for Thanksgiving.

"I'm going to go spend a few days with my family down in Cannon Beach in Oregon. My aunts and uncles always come to my mother's house with my cousins for a big dinner."

"Will you be there for the weekend?" I ask.

"Nah, I'll come back home that night. My mom and her sisters spend the day plotting for Black Friday, so I always come back home and just lay low."

"Sounds like you have a big family," Jase says.

"Yeah, man, five cousins and between them they have seven little kids. I love them, but shit they're loud," he says, laughing.

"Must be nice though. I'm an only child with no cousins. Small family," I say.

I wish I knew what it was like to have a family like that. I had always wished I had a brother or sister growing up. I always felt lonely. My father worked constantly and my mother was never around. Always too busy attending all of her charity functions to pay attention to me. I know now that I will never have that close family that I had always dreamed of.

I grab my last pair of shoes to put in my suitcase before driving to my parents for Thanksgiving. Kimber left Monday to go stay with her parents who live in Redmond, and Jase and Mark left Tuesday to fly to Mark's parent's house in Ohio. Everyone seemed excited for the break before they left while I have been dreading it.

I try to avoid my parents for the most part. Growing up with them wasn't easy. My mother is a social bee and is concerned more about herself and her family's image than happiness. She is a very stern and critical woman, and to please her is nearly impossible. Everything in her world has to be simply perfect so that others will envy her.

My father, being an orthopedic surgeon, was never around much. Both of my parents are influential and well-respected. But they were always so busy that I was left alone for the most part. When my mother was around, all we ever seemed to do was fight. We still do. It has always bothered her that I never participated much in her endeavors. She is involved in many charities, fundraisers, and other social events around town. I know she dreams of a daughter that would follow in her footsteps among her friends and be more concerned about my, as she puts it, 'social standing in the community.'

So now I am making the short twenty-minute drive to Shoreline to spend Thanksgiving with my parents. I plan to leave Saturday morning so that I can have a little down time before classes start back up on Monday.

As I enter through the gates of The Highlands, I make the slow winding drive that leads to the house I grew up in. Pulling up the drive to the two-story coastal house that is reminiscent of a Hampton beach house, I park, grab my suitcase, and walk up to the front door.

When I walk in, I can hear my mother talking on the phone, and I follow her voice to the kitchen to let her know I'm here. She stands there, leaning her hip against the center granite island, in her houndstooth pencil skirt, cashmere sweater, and black pumps. She acknowledges me with a slight nod before picking up her glass of wine and walking to the living room to continue her conversation.

I drag my suitcase to my bedroom, flop my purse onto the floor, and lie down on my bed. I turn my head to look through the French doors that look out over the Sound. I have always loved this view, even as a little girl. I used to spend hours sitting up here and staring out this very window wondering what my life would turn out like.