Reservation (Preservation Series) (9 page)

“Whatever. You’re off the hook for now because she’s out of town. But when she’s back, there will be no telling me not to bring her with me to these circus acts. I’ll bring her wherever I damn well please.”

The cab came to a stop and Danny opened his door. “Believe me, you’re going to need fans.”

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes again. “Readers, yes. Fans—the kind you’re talking about—no, I don’t need those.”

He paused, as if running his thoughts through a filter before letting them pass through his lips. “In a few weeks, you’ll be changing your tune.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Oh, Ryan,” he laughed, stepping out of the cab, “you sure aren’t going to make my job easy, are you?”

“Nope. Where’s the fun in that?”

He straightened his coat. “Good show today. See you soon.”

I waved him off and pulled myself from the cab when we reached Cherry and South, my muscles aching from running nonstop all week long. Fuck, I was tired.

“Thanks, man.” I handed the driver his money and made my way up to Carter and Dean’s place, opting for the stairs instead. As beat as I was, God knew my legs needed the extra workout. I’d missed two swims in a row now, and my body was feeling the effects. Not only was my energy shot, but my stress levels were at an all-time high.

“You do realize that whatever Kate told you to tell me, it’s not going to make a difference, right?” Carter asked the minute he opened the door.

“Yup, well aware.”

“Then take a seat, chap. You and I will get on just fine, then. Come on, Dean’s at work, so we can talk in peace.” He led me inside, returning his guitar from the couch to its stand. “Lookin’ pretty rough there, man. Want a beer or somethin’?”

“Mother of God,” I released an exaggerated groan as I sank into the couch. “Yes, please. I feel like I’m 80.”

“You look like you’re 80. You okay? How’s the new job treating you?”

“It’s great, I guess. Just hectic right now because I’m still teaching classes and all. Been running around like a crazy person, trying to adjust to all this public image shit.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that? Dean said you were on The Daily Fill this morning? Crazy stuff right there.”

“It’s just something my publicist and agent want me to do. They have this whole plan to turn me into some pin-up boy, thinking it’ll sell more books and make the movie execs happy. Crazy indeed.”

Carter handed me a beer and dropped into a chair across from me, shrugging. “So you get to play celebrity, ay? Doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

“You wanna take it off my hands? Be my guest. I just wanna write, man.”

“Wow, not too thrilled about all of this, are you?”

“The whole thing’s just out of my element, that’s all. And I’ve had other shit on my mind, so I have a short fuse with it right now.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nuh-uh,” I swallowed a swig of my beer, “you are not the one interrogating me today, my friend. My turn to ask the questions.”

Carter sighed and lounged back, eyes finding the ceiling. “Ryan...”

“Come on, man. I know I can’t talk you out of anything. Shit, I don’t even know what it is you’re trying to do, exactly. Only heard the gist of it. But you know you gotta give me
something
. Kate and Dean won’t rest until I pry at least a few details from you. I can’t report back empty handed. Throw me a bone, will you?”

“There’s nothing I can tell you that I haven’t already explained to them.”

I turned to face him. I wasn’t an expert in psychology or anything, but I was a writer, and that meant I was naturally curious about human behavior. I observed people. Studied them. Watched their mannerisms, explored possible reasons that might explain why they do what they do. And right now, I could tell by the way Carter was sitting—with his arms loose at his sides, his blank stare, and fists relaxed—that he was tired.

Might’ve been even more tired than I was.

The dark circles under his eyes gave away a lack of sleep, and his clothes were full of wrinkles, like he’d just rolled out of bed in the middle of the afternoon. He was a musician and often worked evening shifts at the market or played late-night gigs, so he probably
did
just roll out of bed. Still, he was looking rougher than usual.

“What are you not saying, Carter?”

He blinked, maintaining that lifeless stare at the ceiling. “I’m just tired, dude. Depressed maybe, I dunno. All I know is I got back from St. Lucia and I’m just in some kind of funk. Being there made me realize I’m ready for a change, but Kate and Dean don’t get it. I don’t expect them to, but it’s exhausting trying to get through to them, when I really
need
to get through to them, know what I’m sayin’? I need their support. But they just think I’m nuts.”

“Are you?”

“Huh?”

“Nuts.”

“No,” he said defensively, finally looking at me. “Just tired. Tired of explaining something they don’t seem to understand.”

“And what is it they need to understand?”

“Maybe they don’t need to understand. Maybe me knowing what I need is enough and I just need to accept that. Huh.” He smiled to himself, as if calling on a memory. “I remember Kate saying something like that, actually. Right before she took off for St. Lucia. That girl knows her shit.”

“Sorry, still lost here.”

“I’m in a rut and I need to get out of it.”

“How is going to Florida going to fix that?”

“It won’t fix anything.”

“Then why go? And why Florida, anyway?”

“Don’t tell Kate, but I picked Florida...because of her mother’s atlas.”

I grinned. Oh, now this was interesting. Carter was the one who told me about how Kate had chosen to take a temp job in St. Lucia on a whim by flipping open her mom’s atlas and going to the first place her finger landed. It was impulsive, brave, and totally fucking brilliant.

It was so Kate.

Now, here was Carter, doing the same damn thing, using Kate’s atlas—her mother’s last gift to her before she died—to randomly pick a place to visit.

Carter shot me a side glance and a small grin, as if reading my mind. “Yes, I do see the irony in this. And no, I haven’t lost my marbles.”

“So, Florida was the winner?”

“Yup. Some island off the West Coast...Sanibel. I guess there’s not much there except retirees, rich people, and gorgeous beaches. Couldn’t be more perfect, actually. It sounds like it has everything I’m looking for. A slower pace, smaller community, and since it’s an island, it means a lot of boats. I can get work there for sure. Plus I saw it on some travel show a while back. Looked nice.”

“Work on an island of loaded retirees? Come again?”

“I grew up around boats.” He shrugged, as if I should know this already. I knew quite a bit about Carter, but nothing of his past. “My dad loved sailing the Sound. Still does. He taught me how to handle boats when I was a kid, and I used to work at this marine service shop downtown for extra cash in between jobs, would help the owner order parts for the store and stuff. He taught me a lot, too, helped me pick up some maintenance skills while I was there—mostly sail boat stuff, but I learned a little bit of everything, even dabbled in sales. The owner took a lot of pride in his shop and ran everything himself for the most part. He was kind of a jack of all trades, sort of took me on as an apprentice. Anyway, I haven’t done that sort of work here in Seattle in a while because the hours usually clash with my gigs and classes. But I know enough to hopefully get some work on this island. It’s a start.”

I sat up now, elbows resting on my thighs. Dean was right. Carter was seriously considering Florida, and not just for a vacation. “What about your music? And writing? Where will you play on an island? You can’t beat Seattle’s music scene. You realize what you’ll be giving up?”

“Of course I do. It’s not that I don’t want to play shows anymore. I mean, I still want to write music and play here and there, but I’m not looking to play or write for a career. Never was. That was always Dean’s dream, and I supported it. We have fun playing together. But I’m happy as long as I can do it for myself, you know, keep it fun instead of turning it into a full-time job. I just took those writing classes and workshops because I love creative writing. It helps with my songwriting. But I never committed to a major or anything. After this semester, I’m throwing in the towel. If I decide to go back to school someday, then I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

“So you want to give up school, too? You’d be happy tinkering around with boats on some island in the Gulf of Mexico?”

He shrugged, moving to sit up with me. “Maybe, maybe not. I’m not saying I want to work on boats for the rest of my life or anything, I’m just talking about making some cash right now. And I feel at home in that environment. I grew up near the water here, so I know I’d like being near the water there. It’s tropical. Would be a nice change. It would suit me, give me some time to think about what I really want to do...for a living, I mean. I’ve been drifting the past few years, and for a while, I was cool with that, but now...I have absolutely no clue what the hell I want to do with my life, and for the first time ever, it scares the shit out of me.”

Well I’ll be damned, the times they were a changin’.

“You’ve really given this some thought.”

“Yup.”

“And you know what question’s coming next.”

“Yup.” He flopped back again, sinking into the chair’s cushions with a heavy sigh.

“So are you gonna tell me what started all this or am I’m gonna have to sit here all afternoon and pry it out of you?”

“I told you why I chose Florida.”

“Why did you choose at all?”

He remained still.

“I’m going to have to drag it out of you, aren’t I?”

What he said next surprised and relieved me. Truth was, I didn’t have the energy for coaxing Carter to talk tonight.

“Everyone’s moved on, entered new seasons in life. And I’m still me. Still here. Still...
still
.”

“What are you saying?”

“I felt the change when you started seeing Kate.” He glanced at me. “Before you go getting your knickers in a twist, no, it wasn’t just because I’m in love with her.”

I stilled at the present tense of his statement. I didn’t feel like I could make eye contact with him, so I stared at my feet.

“I do...love her, you know.”

“Yeah. I know.” And I did know, but holy shit, hearing him admit it to my face was a whole different matter.

“But I let her go. Not that I ever had her in the first place. I know I didn’t. I just...I noticed it then, that she was moving on in more ways than one. Not just with you, but with her career and all. Life just happened. But then Dean met Crystal and he started taking the band really seriously, trying to make it a full-time job and all, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t tell him, because I didn’t want to disappoint him. I want him happy. But I could feel the shift there, too. Things kept changing over the past few months, but it was like...I was the only one who could see the change, like I was looking in from the outside, and everyone was just present and going about their business, but not really seeing it as it was unfolding. But I could see ahead, could see the change that was coming. For some reason, going to St. Lucia cemented all of that, and now I just know.”

“Know what?”

“That it’s time for me to move on, too.”

I released a breath, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. What Carter was going through was much bigger than anything I could contend with, and I wasn’t about to try. His mind was made up, and he knew what he had to do.

“Then go for it,” I said simply.

He sat up so fast, I jumped. He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You think?”

“Kate will never forgive me for saying it, but yeah, man, you have to do what you think you need to do. You know yourself better than anyone else. Trust that and don’t look back.”

The tired lines around Carter’s face seemed to soften, his eyes gleaming as his lips turned up into a grateful smile. “Damn, Ryan...thanks, man.”

I stood and and set my beer down on the coffee table. “Thanks for being honest. About Kate.”

He averted his gaze. “Don’t worry about her being pissed at you, she’ll be fine.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“She can’t be mad at you for long. It’s me making the decision to leave. She’ll realize that soon enough.”

I started for the door. “Keep me posted, man. Good luck with everything.”

“You, too. Don’t forget us little people.”

“If I do, you and Dean have permission to kick my ass.”

Carter laughed, pausing when he opened the door for me. He suddenly grew serious. “Hey...take care of her. You know, since I won’t be in the wings to watch out for her anymore. One less set of eyes.” He still couldn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the doorknob. “She’s my best friend.”

Standing in the doorway, I made sure to look at him anyway. “I know what she means to you. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she’s taken care of, I promise you that.”