The Topsail Accord (27 page)
How can I be in love when no-one would even notice me
? she thought.
? she thought.
But Joe noticed me. In every way
, she also thought.
, she also thought.
During drinks and dinner all eyes were on Shannon. Joe could barely look away from her. Though he had seen her in surfing clothes and jogging clothes and fresh from the shower and naked beside him dozens of times he had never seen her like this. A sophisticated, bejeweled beauty who captivated everyone who came near. A presence and combination of intelligence, education, wit, beauty, and genuineness. The local press had snapped a hundred pictures hoping to have taken one that captured her presence. More than one guest at the dinner had hurriedly turned to their iPhone, Droid, or Blackberry to Google this vision of grace, beauty, and learning. Several men had quickly become engrossed in learning everything they could about Dr. Shannon Patrick. As they learned about the lab and the natural gas and oil they became even more intrigued. There were even pictures of Shannon at her Coast Guard station home and in her new park.
But Joe never left her side, frustrating those smitten few who couldn’t take their eyes off her.
“
You were wonderful all day Shannon. Thank you,” Joe says.
You were wonderful all day Shannon. Thank you,” Joe says.
“
It was my pleasure. But it was a long day,” Shannon answers.
It was my pleasure. But it was a long day,” Shannon answers.
“
Not too long I hope,” Joe says.
Not too long I hope,” Joe says.
“
Yes I’m afraid it was,” Shannon says. “And I have the race tomorrow. But after the race, I’m all yours, all day,” Shannon says.
Yes I’m afraid it was,” Shannon says. “And I have the race tomorrow. But after the race, I’m all yours, all day,” Shannon says.
She kisses him on the cheek, then tucks herself into bed.
Joe looks at her as she sleeps. As she sleeps in the bed that he and Danny had shared so recently. Shared, but without re-consummating the affair. Shared as friends. Unlike the way he had shared that very bed with Shannon earlier in the day, and then again in the early afternoon.
Outside the window the storm abates, leaving an extremely rare dusting of snow and frozen puddles. Joe turns away from Shannon and takes one last look out the window. While looking at the frozen white landscape he wonders whether there is snow and ice on the beach. Or whether the relative warmth of the ocean has kept the beach snow free.
Is that it?
he wonders.
Is it just her relative warmth? Her beauty and love in comparison to the empty years since Colleen? Does she love me? Do I love her? Or have twenty years of being essentially alone recalibrated my feelings to where even the fragments of life and love that she shares with me seem like the love of romance novels and sophomoric poetry? No. It can’t be that. I saw how everyone else responded to her. I saw how Danny responded to her. It’s not just me. She is lovely. And I love her. Though it has been decades since I have felt this emotion, I know what it is, I know that it is real.
he wonders.
Is it just her relative warmth? Her beauty and love in comparison to the empty years since Colleen? Does she love me? Do I love her? Or have twenty years of being essentially alone recalibrated my feelings to where even the fragments of life and love that she shares with me seem like the love of romance novels and sophomoric poetry? No. It can’t be that. I saw how everyone else responded to her. I saw how Danny responded to her. It’s not just me. She is lovely. And I love her. Though it has been decades since I have felt this emotion, I know what it is, I know that it is real.
He turns away from the window and then tucks himself in beside her.
He touches his hand to her shoulder, feels her move away in her sleep as though something has intruded on her solitude. He returns to his side of the bed, puts his hands behind his head, and drifts off to sleep.
Shannon
When she awakens in the morning he is asleep.
She slips into the separate bathroom, dresses in the running clothes she had prepared the night before, and grabs the extra layers she had planned in case the forecast was right, that today would be another unusually raw day in Wilmington.
For a moment she considers skipping the race, returning to bed, making love all day and night and then returning to Ohio tomorrow. But she decides to race after all.
She looks at him in the bed, sleeping soundly, snoring slightly. She decides not to wake him. He was not going to run the race anyway. She leaves a note for him, tells him that she will be back by ten, and that he should make breakfast reservations in the hotel, and then plan to spend all day in bed.
She warms up well, knows that today she will run well, despite the cold and despite the sporadic patches of ice. She has been sizing up the competition and has spied only two or three other serious runners. They are much younger, and she is unsure whether she can beat them. But she is sure that she can try, and thinks that maybe today she will make ‘the big effort’, see what she’s got, now that’s she forty, and Joe is fifty, and Joe loves her, and she is leaving tomorrow. It all starts to jumble up and threatens to confuse her carefully ordered world. She finishes her warm-up and heads to the starting line.
The race begins on time, with a smallish crowd because of the weather. She goes out under control, stays with the two younger leaders. She is near her limit, but not all the way there, knows she has something left. The pavement feels odd underfoot, unlike the sand. Her right foot barks a small complaint. She ignores it, but knows that tomorrow, and maybe for the next week, that the foot will complain. She identifies the pain, relegates it to a different part of her brain, and concentrates on the two runners just half a yard in front of her.
First one, then the other looks over.
“
Who are you?” the young man drawls. There is no hint of effort in his voice.
Who are you?” the young man drawls. There is no hint of effort in his voice.
“
I thought we knew all the good runners around here?” the young girl says to her running partner. There is a trace of effort and annoyance in her voice.
I thought we knew all the good runners around here?” the young girl says to her running partner. There is a trace of effort and annoyance in her voice.
Shannon does not answer. Knows that her voice will betray more information than she is willing to reveal. Instead of answering she ups her pace and passes them both. The young man quickly answers and joins on her right shoulder. The girl slowly drifts back, then is broken and drifts back more quickly once the rubber band holding them together has ruptured.
With a mile to go they are a hundred yards clear of the girl, four hundred yards clear of the next runner. They both know it will come down to them. A twenty one year old boy and a forty year old woman. The boy lifts the pace. Shannon answers. She is at her limit. Knows she can hold this pace but knows she can go no faster. She controls her breathing, makes no sound, reveals no information to the boy. He is working hard. She wonders if he has anything left. The twenty one year old inside her screams to throw in a burst, to leave the boy in the dust. The forty year old beach runner in her accepts that this is all she has. Maybe she has something for the last hundred yards, or the last dozen? Maybe she can surprise him in the last few steps? It is the only hope she holds onto.
They turn the final corner and the finish line is in sight. The boy does not pull away. Shannon asks, but her body does not respond. They cross the finish line the same as they have run the last mile, with the boy a half a step ahead, and Shannon attached to his shoulder.
“
Nice race,” he says. “Could you have pipped me?” he asks.
Nice race,” he says. “Could you have pipped me?” he asks.
“
When I was your age,” she answers.
When I was your age,” she answers.
The boy finally looks at her, sees that she is twice his age.
“
Dude,” he says. He shakes her hand, then walks back to the finish line to wait for his girlfriend who has been left behind while he ran with Shannon.
Dude,” he says. He shakes her hand, then walks back to the finish line to wait for his girlfriend who has been left behind while he ran with Shannon.
“
There you are,” Joe says. He is fresh from the shower, shaved, cologned, dressed in khakis that the hotel has pressed and in a blue oxford from his business. He looks like exactly what he is, a wealthy man on a meaningful weekend who has just seen the love of his life.
There you are,” Joe says. He is fresh from the shower, shaved, cologned, dressed in khakis that the hotel has pressed and in a blue oxford from his business. He looks like exactly what he is, a wealthy man on a meaningful weekend who has just seen the love of his life.
“
How was the race?” he asks.
How was the race?” he asks.
“
I lost,” she answers.
I lost,” she answers.
A follow up question forms in his mind but he stifles it.
She heads to the shower without saying another word.
While she is in the shower, room service arrives. He has ordered two of everything, and a pot of coffee. He was unsure what she would want, if anything, after running a race.
“
What’s all this?” she asks.
What’s all this?” she asks.
“
It’s breakfast,” he answers.
It’s breakfast,” he answers.
She lifts the lids, looks at everything, finds the coffee, and pours a large cup.
“
Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.
Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.
“
I’m forty. He was twenty one. Twenty years ago I’d have won.”
I’m forty. He was twenty one. Twenty years ago I’d have won.”
“
I hope so. Because if he’s twenty one now he would have been one back then and you damn well better have beat him, or whoever would have been pushing his stroller. Did they have jogging strollers back then?”
I hope so. Because if he’s twenty one now he would have been one back then and you damn well better have beat him, or whoever would have been pushing his stroller. Did they have jogging strollers back then?”
Shannon looks at him. Astounded and angered at his smart ass answer. A sharp rebuke forms in her mind, and like he had previously, she stifles it. She tries not to laugh, but then is unable to stop herself as he continues to make funny faces and pantomimes pushing a stroller while pretending to be confused with trying to answer his own question about the baby stroller.
“
You bastard,” she says. She bursts into a belly laugh and before they know it they are both laughing so hard that tears are running from their eyes. While she laughs her night gown falls open and he drinks in her nakedness. He responds and they rush to the bed. Their lovemaking is short, energetic, nearly primal and desperate in its intensity.
You bastard,” she says. She bursts into a belly laugh and before they know it they are both laughing so hard that tears are running from their eyes. While she laughs her night gown falls open and he drinks in her nakedness. He responds and they rush to the bed. Their lovemaking is short, energetic, nearly primal and desperate in its intensity.
“
I am leaving this afternoon,” she says.
I am leaving this afternoon,” she says.
“
Not tomorrow?” he asks. “It’ll be dark when you get home.”
Not tomorrow?” he asks. “It’ll be dark when you get home.”
“
I’m going to drive half way, or until it looks like it’s getting dark. Then I’ll stop. And I’m going to drive the rest of the way tomorrow.”
I’m going to drive half way, or until it looks like it’s getting dark. Then I’ll stop. And I’m going to drive the rest of the way tomorrow.”
“
Oh,” he says. He knows she has never split up the drive before. Wonders why she is leaving a day early, if it has anything to do with the race she ‘lost’. He has learned she came second to a local twenty one year old college runner who finished in the top ten in the NCAA cross country championships. He wonders if she is leaving because she didn’t win.
Oh,” he says. He knows she has never split up the drive before. Wonders why she is leaving a day early, if it has anything to do with the race she ‘lost’. He has learned she came second to a local twenty one year old college runner who finished in the top ten in the NCAA cross country championships. He wonders if she is leaving because she didn’t win.
“
And I’ve made up my mind about surfing and lighthouses,” she says.
And I’ve made up my mind about surfing and lighthouses,” she says.
He waits. Dreads the answers.
“
I’m sorry but the answer is no,” she says.
I’m sorry but the answer is no,” she says.
He takes it like a man, clenches his jaw, narrows his eyes, refuses to show any more reaction than this to his profound disappointment.
“
Can I ask why?” he asks.
Can I ask why?” he asks.
“
Because I like you and I like us just the way we are,” she answers. “I don’t want anything else.”
Because I like you and I like us just the way we are,” she answers. “I don’t want anything else.”
“
Is this how it’s going to be then? You and me in July and January, two months every year? If that’s all I can have, I’ll take it,” he says. “I agree to the deal.”
Is this how it’s going to be then? You and me in July and January, two months every year? If that’s all I can have, I’ll take it,” he says. “I agree to the deal.”
“
That’s not fair to you,” she says.
That’s not fair to you,” she says.
“
Isn’t that for me to decide?”
Isn’t that for me to decide?”
“
Yes I suppose it is,” she says.
Yes I suppose it is,” she says.
He waits. Fears the answer to the question he is about to ask. Tries to stop himself from asking but cannot.
“
Is there someone else? Someone in Ohio?”
Is there someone else? Someone in Ohio?”
“
No.”
No.”
“
Do you want there to be? Is that why we can’t have anything else?”
Do you want there to be? Is that why we can’t have anything else?”
“
No, there’s no-one else, and I don’t want anyone else, and I don’t want anything else. I’ve told you what happened with my ex. He wanted what he thought he ‘should’ have. But ‘should’ isn’t real, it isn’t what is. You and I are Topsail in July and Topsail in January. We don’t even work in Wilmington. What would happen somewhere even farther away?”
No, there’s no-one else, and I don’t want anyone else, and I don’t want anything else. I’ve told you what happened with my ex. He wanted what he thought he ‘should’ have. But ‘should’ isn’t real, it isn’t what is. You and I are Topsail in July and Topsail in January. We don’t even work in Wilmington. What would happen somewhere even farther away?”
He has no answer. He feels the pain begin, the pain that will grow and grow through February and March and threaten to overwhelm him until April and May give way to June and then finally hope that July will arrive shortly and he could be whole for the minutes and hours she will give.
“
Won’t you just try it?” he asks. “Try it once. One April, one October. Or even just one April? If you don’t like me in April in Costa Rica you can ditch me. I’ll make sure you can have your own place. And why don’t you make the reservations for the October lighthouse? Just tell me what airport to arrive at and when. You can make reservations for separate places. So if it isn’t working, if we don’t have there what we’ve had here or something worthwhile then you can ditch me. But I really do want to try. And I want you to try.”
Won’t you just try it?” he asks. “Try it once. One April, one October. Or even just one April? If you don’t like me in April in Costa Rica you can ditch me. I’ll make sure you can have your own place. And why don’t you make the reservations for the October lighthouse? Just tell me what airport to arrive at and when. You can make reservations for separate places. So if it isn’t working, if we don’t have there what we’ve had here or something worthwhile then you can ditch me. But I really do want to try. And I want you to try.”
“
We won’t have there what we have here. We won’t have anywhere what we have here. Don’t you get it? Here is here. There is there. Even here isn’t here. Here is Wilmington and sick kids and Danny and losing races and over-solicitous hotel people and not knowing what you want for dinner or breakfast and not making love at night because we don’t know how. We know who we are at Topsail. Individually and together. Maybe it’s the island, the beach, the ocean. I don’t know. But we don’t even know who we are here in Wilmington. It’s only thirty miles away and we don’t work.”
We won’t have there what we have here. We won’t have anywhere what we have here. Don’t you get it? Here is here. There is there. Even here isn’t here. Here is Wilmington and sick kids and Danny and losing races and over-solicitous hotel people and not knowing what you want for dinner or breakfast and not making love at night because we don’t know how. We know who we are at Topsail. Individually and together. Maybe it’s the island, the beach, the ocean. I don’t know. But we don’t even know who we are here in Wilmington. It’s only thirty miles away and we don’t work.”
“
I know who we are here,” he says.
I know who we are here,” he says.
“
Who are we?” she asks.
Who are we?” she asks.
“
I’m a man in love with a woman who’s in love with a man but can’t accept it.”
I’m a man in love with a woman who’s in love with a man but can’t accept it.”
“
Is that what you think? That I love you and I can’t accept it?”
Is that what you think? That I love you and I can’t accept it?”
“
Yes. Because you’re not even willing to entertain the possibility that maybe we can have something somewhere else.”
Yes. Because you’re not even willing to entertain the possibility that maybe we can have something somewhere else.”
Other books
Grass by Sheri S. Tepper
Kernel of Truth by Kristi Abbott
Suicide Squad by Marv Wolfman
Benchley, Peter by The Deep [txt]
SovereignsChoice by Evangeline Anderson
03 Mary Wakefield by Mazo de La Roche
Pieces of it All by Tracy Krimmer
The Amber Keeper by Freda Lightfoot
One True Thing by Piper Vaughn
Elizabeth Thornton by Whisper His Name