Eli wasn’t more than three steps into the quiet, sleeping house when Lily appeared at his side, her arms crossed over her favorite, pastel pink, Nike crewneck that she always slept in, “Sailor pooped his bed, Eli. His bed! Where were you?”
“Out,” He shook his head, giving Lily a rushed side hug, “I’m home now though, alright? Why don’t you go back to sleep?” He plopped a kiss onto her blonde hair, “I love you. I’ll be up in a couple to say goodnight.”
Whenever either of the kids got sick, they always ended up in Eli’s bed, so, he grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from the pantry, a puke bucket and a bag of pretzels for himself, and then hurried down the steps to his bedroom where Nora and Sailor were cuddled up in his bed half-watching Cheaper By The Dozen and half-sleeping. “Hi, I’m so sorry…” Eli mouthed to Nora, watching as she maneuvered herself off the bed, all while Sailor stayed snoring with his mouth open next to her. After a billion years of being a mom, she was good at stuff like that, but it still amazed Eli. She gave him a big hug, told him not to worry and that Sailor had been sleeping for about thirty minutes. She told him that he was due for Tylenol again in two hours, and then Nora told Eli to shower because he smelled like sex, and with a somewhat disappointed yet amused shake of her head, she went back upstairs to sleep.
Eli didn’t listen to Nora, and instead hopped right into bed and got a few hours of weird, restless sleep before Sailor was poking him in the arm and asking for something to eat. With his eyes barely open, and the house still as quiet as could be for a Saturday morning, Eli went to the kitchen to make Sailor something light. He decided on oatmeal and as he stirred a spoon around in it, hoping that it was heated somewhat evenly from their old microwave, Eli caught a glimpse of Cal and his heart dropped to his knees. His red hair was ruffled as if he was startled awake, and though rushing, he’d still somehow managed to go back to his garden and pick a fresh bouquet of flowers. Eli knew in his heart of hearts that Cal was going to go be with Maisie, and while the young man wasn’t racing through the kitchen as he heated up some old coffee, Eli still felt a sense of urgency. So, Maisie needed him. Why though, and why him? She hadn’t called or even bothered to shoot Eli a text to see how Sailor was doing, and now, her main man was going back to her side, ass-kissing flowers in his hand. It made Eli sick, and as he nodded in Cal’s general direction to acknowledge him, he got a headache. He wasn’t sure if it was stress or hangover related, but it was there, and all Eli wanted to do was crawl back into bed next to his sick son.
Watching Cal and Maisie frolic with the kids on the beach was Eli’s last straw. The last knife to dig into his ribs. The last nail of his coffin. His skin itched with something new. It wasn’t sunburn, but jealousy, and though he was trying his best to let the night they had together escape his mind (as it obviously had hers), he couldn’t help but feel like there was more to their story. She was in every song he’d listened to and in every movie he’d watched since then. She was in every breakfast he shared laughing with Lily and Sailor and in every cute, romantic couple they’d seen so far on the island. He wouldn’t accept an ending of their relationship like this. It was too hollow. Too cold. Hell, even their friendship deserved so much better.
Sometimes I’m like a child, that’s somethin’ I can’t release
Dreams of her comin’ home, sweet home
And I’m tellin’ you home is so sweet
Said you reminded me of the summertime, and I still mean that
It was after Eli had checked on Sailor and Lily one last time when he decided to text Maisie. He truly had nothing to lose, and he just needed some answers. It would either be texting her or finding that girl from the bar their first night there, and quite honestly, Eli wasn’t in the mood to entertain a random girl and probably end up hooking-up in the back of a random SUV. He couldn’t even really think about another girl without Maisie floating around in his mind too. For a moment he realized Devon’s image hadn’t been taking up as much space in his head as Maisie had been and that made him feel…something. So, though his Mom would’ve yelled at him for drinking as a coping mechanism, Eli took just a single shot of liquid courage and then picked up his iPhone.
Hi - He was too impatient, so he sent another text.
Would you want to talk?
And then one last one - At the shore in a few minutes?
In a full room, I’m the only one she’s smilin’ at
So wouldn’t you let me know if you were thinkin’ less of me?
He waited five minutes, then ten, and finally Eli’s phone vibrated and Maisie had answered with a simple, “Okay.”
Eli took a breath - it was as equally calming as it was nerve-wracking, and then he pulled on a pair of shorts and made sure that his green, stereotypical, tourist t-shirt that he’d bought wasn’t too wrinkled or stained with any shaved ice from earlier. Smiling and waving at Caiden and Britton who were cuddled up on the couch in the living room, Eli decided against wearing any shoes and then headed out to the back porch and down into the cool sand. Within just a few feet, it got much darker and colder, and that’s when he first noticed Maisie standing near the shore. A lump formed in his throat. He had so much to say and silently prayed that he’d get it all out the right way. It was just Maisie, after all, but after the night they’d spent together, she didn’t feel like just Maisie to him anymore. Eli wasn’t sure what that meant, but he knew that he regretted calling Devon earlier in the day and leaving her a stupid, needy voicemail.
And I was talkin’ with you earlier
We were open and vulnerable, it was wonderful
I, I used to dream that you would talk to me
I used to dream that you would talk to me
Finally, Eli was face-to-face with Maisie, and he wished so dearly to pull her in for a hug. He didn’t, and that’s when she first spoke.
“Yeah,” Eli agreed to a walk, trying to unsuccessfully find Maisie’s eyes for a moment before she turned and they began walking down the beach. He cleared his throat. The waves beating angrily against the shore felt a lot like Maisie’s energy. Her arms folded tightly across her chest and as their bodies gave off heat from being near each other, she took a step more off to the side so she wasn’t as close to Eli. “Listen…Maisie…” He so desperately wanted to reach for her, but knew he shouldn’t, “Sailor was sick. Genuinely sick. I’d…I wouldn’t…the last thing I wanted to do was leave you that night, alright? It was one of the best nights of my life. You’re…geez…you’re amazing.” He’d stopped dead in his tracks and though she was still refusing to find his eyes, his big, bluey-green ones never stopped searching for hers, “The next morning I was in the kitchen and I saw Cal with flowers and I was like–fuck it! Fuck her!…I knew he was going to see you. I just didn’t know why, but I didn’t care. I was pissed. And, I’m sorry,” He understood words were just words, but Eli said them again anyways, his brow pulled down into an endearing, yet painful frown, “I’m sorry.”
And I couldn’t tell you enough that I’m sorry
And no, you couldn’t tell me enough that you love me
But she’s bringin’ the moon and stars to me
Damn permanent reverie
And even though this life, this love is brief
I’ve got some people who carry me
Maisie’s anxiety was high for real this time. As he approached her, she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath. Her mouth went dry. Like cotton. Her palms were sweaty and her eyes stung with tears. Her toes wiggled further into the sand, and as badly as she wanted to reach out to him, to hug him, to hold him, to nuzzle into his neck, to kiss him, she knew she couldn’t. Not there at least. Not without the threat of someone seeing, and while she didn’t care about PDA, she was still with Cal. She was sharing a bed with Cal that entire vacation. They practically lived together, raising kids and chickens and goats and dogs and cats and a small little food garden together. They were little versions of Maisie’s own parents, down to the garden with fresh foods and flowers. But Maisie knew, and ironically Caiden knew too, that she wasn’t happy with him. Not really at least. She couldn’t break up with him. Not yet. So she couldn’t get caught with Eli. Not by anyone. Not Caiden. Not Ree. Not even Bryce and Ryder’s twins. So she offered a walk, and before she could look him in his eyes, before he could reach out to hug her or hold her hand, she had turned. Arms folded. Eyebrows furrowed. Fighting off every last tear as they tried to make their way up and out.
They hadn’t walked far, just past Nora’s house when Eli stopped. So Maisie did too. She kept a distance from him. Not too far to feel like they weren’t having a private conversation, but just far enough so that it was a little awkward. So that if he tried to reach out for her, as she figured he would, he’d really have to reach for it. Eli rattled on about how Sailor really was sick, how he had to get home, how he saw Cal the next morning. That made Maisie’s stomach ache. She knew she had fucked up too. She wasn’t getting out of that scot-free. She could’ve called Eli. She could’ve texted him. She could’ve gone over to the house. But the fact of the matter was, Eli was the boy who cried wolf and the wolf was leaving whenever he got his fill. That’s how their relationship had been. Maisie yearned for him. She longed for him. He played the field until he was in over his head and he dipped. They went months without talking before, and when Maisie couldn’t find him that next morning, that was the anxiety that was triggered.
Maisie burst into tears. She tried to fight it off as long as she could, but there she trembled. Covering her mouth with her sweatshirt sleeve. She blinked hard and cried quietly for a moment. She really didn’t know what to say or where to begin. Her mind just kept juggling Eli and Cal and the kids - hers and Eli’s. After about thirty seconds, thirty long seconds, she wiped her eyes with her sleeves and dropped a hushed, “Sorry,” in reference to the tears. He waited patiently, though. And that was better than what probably would’ve happened a year or so ago. “I don’t know why I called Cal,” Maisie hummed, with her eyes still fixated at a spot in the sand. The wind whipped by and her baby hairs flew into her face and away from her forehead and back into her eyes. They still hadn’t made eye contact. They still hadn’t touched.
“I know Sailor was sick. Nora told me. I’m sorry I never called to check on him or on you. I just...” Maisie’s heart was beating out of her chest. “I was just expecting you to be there and when I couldn’t find you...” Now that she was talking about it, maybe her PTSD had been triggered that morning too. Having someone here one minute and gone the next, feeling completely blindsided and confused... it left Maisie feeling a lot. “When I couldn’t find you,” she repeated, finding hiccup-y breaths between phrases, “I was hurt. I thought you weren’t going to come back around. I thought it was an easy excuse to leave. You could’ve woken me up, you could’ve told me. You could’ve texted me too or something...
“I know I could’ve called. I could’ve texted. I just... I needed you to be there the next morning. I needed you, and you know me, Eli Bates, I don’t need people. And that’s scary, that’s a really scary feeling.” Finally, as if it was written that way, Maisie’s breathing steadied and she found her eyes wandering from the spot in the sand, over his t-shirt, up his neck to his jaw and his lips and his nose then to his eyes. And man, those eyes even sparkled at night. She didn’t know how he did it. “I needed you, I wanted you, but I didn’t think you wanted me. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself, not even the phone call from Nora later that day could tell me that I was wrong about that.”