The Do-Over(41)

“Do not forget the perfume,” Laynie marched into my bathroom, coming out with the Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue in hand. “He’s recreating the boat thing, so you’re going to help him fill in any memory gaps.”

It was fun having friends over to help me get ready for my date and cheer me on.

“How is his evil friend?” Jill raised her brows.

“From what I’ve heard, he’s over in the Far East for like a month. Wes didn’t want to go out of town with Stacy undergoing chemo.”

“Ugh, he’s still on the planet. Too close for comfort.” Laynie stretched out on my comforter.

“He’s like this black cloud hanging over me. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to tell Wes what happened and Wes to want to have nothing to do with me.” I could feel my nausea rise to a fevered pitch just verbalizing it. Rationally, I knew it was before Wes came back into my world, but the emotional part of me told me that Wes would not be happy hearing about it. I wanted to tell him, so that he would hear it from me. But I also just wanted to ignore it and maybe it would just go away.

“You guys, I have to tell him. Or it’s always going to be there weighing on me. Choking me. Plus, I’d rather he hears it from me and know I wasn’t hiding it.” I didn’t realize I’d been wringing my hands, until I noticed Jill staring at them. “And Lord knows how Julien would spin it. He could make it even worse, just to be a bastard.”

I was not in an enviable spot and I needed to come clean with Wes and accept whatever consequences ensued.

Julien. Julien. Julien. Oh, how I wish I’d never met you.





Chapter 15


With a map in hand, I navigated past gorgeous sailboats and yachts in search of Wes’ berth. Trying to walk with confidence, big purse slung over one shoulder filled with everything I might need – or not, weighty freezer bag firmly planted on the other arm, I was beyond nervous, as if the world were riding on this, a date with a man I’d waited half my life to date. Why did the stakes feel so high?

And there it was. I was wondering what the name would be. Named for his lost wife? His company? Some obscure reference? And then I was upon her. Second Wind. And I immediately loved the hope and freedom it implied. There was an optimism and that really spoke to Wes and his entrepreneurial spirit – taking his heartache and turning it into something that brought brightness into others’ lives. The possibilities were endless when you were given a second chance. A do-over, per se.

“Hey Wes,” I called out, stepping onto the deck.

He bounded up from below, full smile. “You found me.”

Oh yes I did. Again. “This boat is beautiful.” I took in the teak deck and navy blue appointments.

Laden with bags on my shoulder, I pulled off the freezer bag, thrusting it toward Wes instead of approaching him with any kind of hug.

With eyes widened, as did his surprised smile, he relieved me of the pouch. “Damn that’s heavy. A new boat anchor?” he kidded, taking it over to a built in wooden table. Unzipping the bag, he pulled out the huge, oversized pitcher of slushy frozen rum and somethings and laughed at the plastic cups I’d brought for us to drink them.

“Most excellent,” he exclaimed, that smile stealing my heart yet again. “I’ll try not to spill them on you this time.”

Biting my tongue, I just wanted to tell him to spill away as long as he licked them off my toes. But I just laughed.

Pulling out two thick royal blue reclining seat cushions, Wes placed them side-by-side on the deck, with the rum pitcher and cups between them. “Be right back.” He bounded down the stairs with lithe grace, returning a moment later with a platter of cheese, crackers, fresh fruit and dip.

Easing onto the comfortable pad chair, I fiddled with the back to get the right recline.

“Here, let me get that for you,” he offered, positioning it perfectly for relaxation while still a safe angle for eating and drinking.

With our first rum whatevers safely in plastic cups, we clinked too hard, both spilling and laughed.

“You know we had to do that,” I couldn’t contain my smile. “For old times’ sake.”

Raising his glass, his eyes crinkled, “For new times’ sake.”

New times. I liked that. A lot.

Both taking big swigs of the mixture I know I put way too much rum in, I had the feeling that we both needed a little shot of confidence. While I’d kept thinking about it as one bridge dividing us, there were multiple and we needed to cross them one by one.

“So when did you come back to New York?”

“It was probably less than a year after the windjammer trip.”

“Really. I would have thought you would have stayed out there. I think you’re one of those rare personalities that can adapt to both coasts and really thrive.”

He smiled and I could tell there were memories flooding in. “Actually, you kinda ruined that for me.”

“Me?” I choked on my drink. “How did I do that?” Sitting up in my chair, I faced him, untying the silk straps on my espadrilles and setting the shoes aside.

“Honestly?” His brows were raised and I knew he was asking if I were ready to really talk.

“Yes. Of course.” I picked up the pitcher and refilled both our glasses. We clinked again and laughed at the need for liquid confidence.