Beach Glass Read online

  Then he basically drags me from the table toward the front door, his mother trailing after us.

  Just as Carson lets go of me to get an umbrella from the closet and shouts to the butler to get my bag and coat, his mother reaches me. “Please don’t let him leave the country again,” she murmurs quickly. “Make him stay, Kate.”

  “I’ll try,” I say, knowing that’s the best I can do with a man as unpredictable as the fall storm we’re heading into. The butler moves with efficient speed and a professionally blank expression as he helps me into my coat and hands me my bag.

  “Kate! Let’s go,” Carson says. He gives his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before dragging me away.

  As soon as we’re outside, I shrug off his hand. “Carson. Carson! Let go, you’re going to yank my arm out of its socket.” Instead of following him to the car, I stalk away in the driving rain, my boots sinking into the storm-soaked mud with every angry step I take.

  “Hey,” Carson says, sprinting to keep up with me and trying to shield me with his large umbrella. “What’s going on?”

  “You didn’t have to put me on the spot like that,” I growl.

  “Kate, it wasn’t your fault you were let go, it was his,” he says. He takes my arm, trying to slow me down. “He should meet the people he hurts with his actions.”

  “That wasn’t a shareholder’s meeting,” I say, coming to a halt to face him. “You embarrassed me, Carson. You just wanted to hurt your father, and you used me to do it. You weren’t thinking about me at all.”

  He looks at me with eyes that seem a darker green for the storm around us and between us. “That’s the first moment since I met you that I haven’t thought about you,” he says. He reaches to my face and wipes a drop of rain off my cheek. “That’s why I don’t come home, Kate. When I’m around him, I become like him.”

  The sadness in his voice mollifies me. “You were a jerk,” I say softly.

  “The jerk apologizes.” He kisses my forehead. “Kate, I’m so sorry.”

  “Okay.”

  He smiles down at me. “Let’s go someplace where we can just be us again.”

  A LITTLE OVER two hours later, I wake up to see my neighborhood coming into view, and I stretch out in the seat of the car. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to nap.”

  “I didn’t let you get much sleep last night,” Carson says, winking at me. He pulls smoothly into a parking space not far from my front door. “A nap sounds good. With you. In your nice, quiet apartment, with no fighting or insanity.” He turns the car off and huffs. “That’s exactly the kind of crap that makes me run away. And now that my father knows where I am, this time I’m thinking,” he ponders, mostly to himself, “Australia. The surfing’s good there.”

  I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. “That’s really far away.”

  “That’s the point,” Carson explains coldly.

  “What about me?” I ask, before I can stop myself from hearing something I don’t want to hear. “What about us?”

  Carson turns to me. “I was talking about us, Kate. From that first day I met you, every time I thought about something I wanted or somewhere I’d like to go, you were with me. There was no ‘I’ or ‘me’ anymore.” He laughs, happily mystified. “It’s all about us, Kate.”

  I can’t answer him. I’m smiling too hard.

  Carson takes my hand. “I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”

  Massively comforted by his use of the us word, I squeeze his hand back. “You already apologized for that.”

  His smile is wry. “After you reamed me.”

  “I did not ream you,” I insist, though his smile is infectious. “Okay, maybe I did, a little.” That’s so unlike me, to call someone out on bad behavior. Normally I wouldn’t have said anything, but the moment would fester inside me into a huge resentment that could, I realize, culminate in a breakup one day. Carson gets out of the car and circles around to open the passenger side door for me. He helps me out, kissing my hand as he does, gazing at me with adoration and more than a little respect. That argument was very “Kate” of me, I think as we head into the vestibule of my building.

  In the short hallway with the mailboxes between the front and main doors, Carson stands close behind me, and I fumble with the key as his hands roam over the front of my dress. “Quit it,” I murmur unconvincingly. “You’re distracting me.”

  “You’re always distracting me.” He pulls me against his body, my back to his front, and the warm swoon of impending sex comes over me like a full-body flush. “Before you ask if I’ve ever done it in this hallway,” I pant, “no, because I have an eighty-year-old landlady who walks her hundred-year-old schnauzer every day around this time.”

  I feel Carson laughing against my back. “Okay, no vestibule sex. But I’m not letting go of you,” he says. “Ever.” He hugs me to him tightly, leaving only my arms free to unlock the main door. And so we march like one body the few steps to my front door.

  Carson nuzzles my neck as I put the key in the lock, though it refuses to turn, because it’s already open. I can totally see how I did something like that. I was so surprised to see him yesterday, and he was rushing me out, and I must have forgotten to lock the door. “Stop it,” I say through a giggle as he starts nibbling my ear. I turn around, meaning to push him away, but instead I seek his mouth and kiss him with undisguised hunger. I reach behind me to open the door, and we practically fall into my apartment, tugging at each other’s clothes.

  Then a voice cuts through our heat like an ice pick. “Katy, what the hell is going on?” asks an incredulous Daniel.

  26.

  “DANIEL!” I SAY stupidly, though there is nothing else to say. The only thing worse would be It’s not what you think, but with Carson’s hands on my breasts and mine on his belt buckle, that would be kind of insulting. I pull my hands away, and Carson does, too, though much more slowly as he eyes Daniel.

  “Katy,” Daniel exhales, wide-eyed, “who the hell is this?”

  Carson composes himself with lightning speed. “Carson Richardson Wakefield,” he says, extending his hand to shake, “the third.” Even in this incredibly awkward moment, I remember how disdainfully Carson used his father’s full name when he introduced me, and now he’s lording his over Daniel.

  For his part, Daniel breaks from his shock to look at Carson’s extended hand. “You’re either kidding or you’re on crack,” he snarls.

  “Just trying to be polite,” Carson says with a shrug.

  “Polite, when you just had your hands all over my girlfriend?” Daniel charges. He turns to me. “Katy, will you please tell whoever this is, the third, to get the hell out of here?”

  Carson folds his arms. “I don’t think I’m the one she wants to leave. And if you don’t know who I am, you don’t know who you are in this equation. Look, I get it, I’m guessing you two have history, yadda yadda,” Carson says, as though this is a small matter of inconvenience. “It’s over now, so just leave. You’re making Kate uncomfortable.”

  My gentle Daniel, who won’t eat animals, who rescues wayward dogs, who always backs down from arguments, flushes with anger and pulls himself up taller. Even though this brings him almost to Carson’s height, Daniel’s wiry frame looks thinner, and his vintage button-front shirt, black hoodie, drainpipe jeans and Converse sneakers seem like weak armor against Carson’s disdainful gaze. It’s the same withering look Carson’s father gave him, yet somehow, Daniel withstands it.

  “You’re so full of crap I don’t know what you’re saying,” he seethes at Carson. “And you don’t even know her name. It’s Katy,” he snaps. “And I’m not leaving.”

  “Fine. We can do this the hard way,” Carson says dismissively. “We’ll let Kate decide who should go.” He turns to me with a set jaw. “Tell him.”

  My chest starts to ache because I’ve forgotten to breathe, or even how to. I’m caught in the middle of a man standoff, one looking at me with expectant impatience, the other beco
ming more wounded with every painful second that I do nothing.

  Finally, Daniel breaks the silence with a single word. “Katy!”

  The tremor in it slashes my heart open. “Carson,” I say, “let me talk to Daniel for a while, please.”

  Carson blinks, surprised by my choice. Then he tartly mutters, “Fine. Whatever,” and abruptly turns to leave.

  “Wait, Carson,” I say, rushing after him as he stalks into the hallway. “Let me explain!” My words hit the vestibule door, where moments before he was distracting me with loving, playful caresses, as it slams shut.

  I go back inside my apartment and close the door and lean my head against it, wanting just a moment’s peace. Daniel gives it to me, though I hear him turning away. As if things could get any worse, he’s now facing my wall of family photos, from which any evidence of us is conspicuously missing.

  I always loved how close Daniel and I were. Now I realize what a hard thing it is to know someone so well you can feel his pain. Daniel’s self-esteem is so fragile. I want to go to him, but I look at the passion-mussed bed where Carson and I made love yesterday, and I know I can’t. He won’t want me near him, even though he clearly came here last night to make sure I was okay, and he waited for me. Tears come to my eyes.

  Daniel waited for me, and he got me and Carson. He got us.

  When Daniel turns around, I look away from his wounded eyes. My gaze flicks down to his hands, which are shaking from holding in rage and pain. He sees me looking at his trembling hands, and he shoves one in a pocket as the other rakes his floppy dark hair out of his eyes, and then they both wrap around him, and then they give up and fall helplessly to his sides.

  “I don’t want to know,” he mumbles nervously. “He can’t mean anything to you. He’s too new.” A horrified look pulls the color from his face. “Unless he’s not new.”

  “What? No, Daniel, you know I’d never cheat on you. I met him when I went away.” I don’t know why I can’t say Carson’s name right now, except that it seems as though it would hurt Daniel even more.

  “You met him two weeks ago?” he asks.

  “Almost three,” I murmur.

  “Three weeks,” Daniel repeats. “But to you, his three weeks matches my five years.”

  When I’m with Carson, the intensity of our relationship just seems part of the way he moves in the world, with everything on ten. Daniel’s words sting, making what I have with Carson sound flimsy. For a moment, his statement throws me. I loved Daniel enough to want to spend the rest of my life with him. How can I feel as much for Carson as I do? How does three weeks with one man, who I barely know, match against five years with a man I know so well?

  Because I know Daniel so well. Only breaking up with him was enough to bring him here with whatever he so desperately needed to say to me. Carson flew here all the way from Costa Rica, leaving behind a life that’s perfect for him, to tell me that he’s in love with me and never wants to be apart from me. That’s how three weeks equals more than five years.

  “Fine, Daniel, you wanted to talk, let’s talk. Even though I told you what I wanted, and you said no, and that, as far as I’m concerned, was the end of our discussion. What was so important that you needed to say to me?”

  I bite my lips as he stares at me in hurt surprise. I’ve never spoken to him this way before, knowing how his parents’ acid arguments traumatized him. Then he walks over to his backpack, reaches inside it, and takes out a small blue box. Oh, God.

  Daniel walks back to me. “I didn’t really have that much to say.” He looks down at the box. “I just wanted to ask you to marry me.” He opens the lid and lifts his dark brown eyes to mine.

  The heart-shaped diamond twinkles brilliantly at me from a band of gracefully engraved silver and a bed of black velvet. The ring is beautiful. I couldn’t have chosen it better myself. My hand rises to my face to stifle a sob.

  Daniel’s voice trembles when he says, “I’m too late, aren’t I?”

  “Yes!” I cry. “Yes, you’re too late! Why now, damn it? I wasn’t good enough for you to stay with before, so why am I good enough now?”

  “Jesus, Katy, don’t you get it?” Daniel says. “There was no way I could marry you before! I shouldn’t even be asking you now!”

  “Why the hell not, you bastard?” I say, my hands curling into fists.

  “Because I’m not good enough!” Daniel shouts. “I’m nothing! I’m nobody, I have nothing, and I’m worthless, and how can I possibly marry you when I don’t even deserve you?!”

  Everything goes quiet as I look at my shattered Daniel, with every ugly thought he ever believed about himself all out in the open, a raw wound. I remember Daniel telling me a story from his childhood. His parents were fighting so viciously, screaming, even getting physical with each other, though they knew Daniel could hear it all as he cowered alone and terrified in his bedroom. They didn’t care, he told me. It was like I wasn’t even worth caring about.

  Now I understand why Daniel never asked for a raise or a promotion at work, why he’s so shy and has only a few close friends, and why he never proposed to me. His parents’ divorce didn’t make Daniel hate the idea of marriage. It made him hate himself.

  Tears spill from my eyes at the sight of him so broken. I don’t know how to put him back together or if I even can. Just as I start to go to him, his cell phone rings from his back pocket.

  “Lucky you, saved by the bell,” he mumbles as he takes it out to ignore the call. But when he sees the caller’s ID, he answers it. “Hello? Yeah, she’s right here. Oh, uh, sure.” His eyes go wide with alarm as he hands me the phone. “It’s your sister. She says your phone goes right to voicemail, and she has to speak with you, right now.”

  My throat goes dry, and I barely get out a hello before Bethy’s trembling voice cuts me off. “Katy, Mom’s in the hospital,” she cries. “She’s had a heart attack.”

  27.

  “EVERYTHING WILL be all right,” Daniel says as he practically carries me down the street. I’m sobbing so hysterically I can’t even see, but Daniel’s voice is a lifeline. “Don’t worry, Katy. It will all be okay. Taxi!” he shouts, leaving me for a second to run into the street and nearly get hit by the off-duty cab he flags down.

  As the car speeds toward the city hospital, where my mother is in intensive care, Daniel holds me close and takes my shaking hands in his. Mom’s boyfriend Vic and Bethy have been calling me all morning to tell me that Mom was having chest pains and collapsed. I turned off my cell phone last night after I called Daniel from Carson’s room, pretending to call my mother. The irony of my lie stabs me. Innocently, I forgot to turn my phone back on again, but while I was making love with Carson this morning, my mother was . . . I sob so hard it hurts, and Daniel holds me tighter, repeating his soothing mantra of “It’s okay, it’s okay, shhh, shhh.”

  At the hospital, Daniel strides quickly to the receptionist. “Rebecca McNamara. Came in this morning with a heart attack. Where is she?”

  The receptionist quickly scans her computer and looks up. “Are you family?”

  Oh God, does that mean she’s dead? I’d hit the floor if Daniel wasn’t supporting me, and he’s the one who answers, “This is her daughter.”

  “Mrs. McNamara is in ICU, so family only. You can go up, third floor. You,” she says to Daniel, “have to stay here.”

  I run for the elevators. Daniel is beside me, telling the receptionist okay, okay, he’ll stay where he is. He presses the button for me. “I’ll be right here,” he says as the doors close.

  “I’VE TOLD YOU a hundred times, I’m fine,” my mother says, fixing her stern I’m the teacher, you’re the student look on her young doctor. Even lying in a hospital bed with a breathing tube in her nose, she’s formidable.

  “And I’m telling you for the last time, Mrs. McNamara, we’re keeping you overnight so we can make sure you’re okay,” the doctor says before adjusting her IV and leaving.

  “They just want to keep you arou
nd for your charming personality,” Vic says, squeezing my mother’s hand. Amazingly, she gives him a smile instead of one of her usual sharp comments. “Give us all a break and relax for a while, would you, Rebecca?” Vic asks her. “You gave us quite a scare. Look at poor Katy. She’s ready for the next available bed.”

  “Are you all right, Katy?” my mother asks, looking at me with worry.

  “No I’m not all right,” I say. “I mean, I am now that I know you’re okay. But Vic’s right, Mom, this was scary. Thank God he was with you.” I don’t want to think about what might have happened if she’d been alone. I should have visited her sooner, checked in on her.

  I silently curse myself for running away with Carson. I know none of this is his fault, but I can’t help thinking that his hundred-mile-an-hour surprises don’t leave room for calling people, preparing for overnight stays, or much of anything else. It’s jarring, the results speaking for themselves. I know I should call him and tell him what’s going on, especially in light of the way we parted, when I told him to leave so I could talk to Daniel. But after what happened today and what might have happened, I just need some time to slow down and catch my breath. I take my mother’s hand to reassure myself that she’s still solid and here. I know I must look really worried, because her mouth tightens.

  “I don’t understand why everyone is making a big deal about this,” she says. “Your sister doesn’t have to fly all the way here from California. It wasn’t that bad. I would have been fine.”

  I’m about to tell my mother just how bad it was when I see Vic shake his head slightly at me. Then he gazes tenderly at my mother, though her eyes remain defiant and steely. And then her lips start to tremble, and she hides her face as she weeps. Vic moves closer to cuddle her. “Becky, you’re okay. I know it was scary. But we have each other. Everything’s fine.”