Part 2 (1/2)

I smiled at her. ”How the h.e.l.l am I supposed to get down to the beach from here?” I asked, wanting off of the subject of me.

”There's a path. I'll show you, but right now we have floors to clean.” She stood and patted my knee.

By eleven o'clock, we were finished. I couldn't sit still. I was noticeably hyper and wanted my delivery, now.

Lauren showed me the path to get to the beach. It was rather steep and rocky, but nothing that I couldn't handle. I should have my house all together by the next day, and planned to venture down there and explore my new surroundings.

Lauren never left me. She stayed until five in the evening until the last picture was hung on the wall. I loved it, and I loved her. My house was complete, and I only needed to go shopping for a few odds and ends that I had forgotten. Food! Yes. I had to do that. If I forgot to get food one more day, I was going to turn myself into a crazy house.

I hugged Lauren before she left and thanked her again.

”I don't like mushy friends,” she teased with a warning look. ”You are more than welcome. Oh yeah, what's your cell number?” she asked, pulling hers from her back jeans pocket.

”I don't have one,” I said, and she c.o.c.ked her head.

”There is a Radio Shack right beside 'Reminiscent,' where you will be working. You should probably have a phone.”

”I am not sure I want one just yet. I think that I should wait a while.”

”Afraid of being found?” she asked. I wasn't about to answer that one. She left shaking her head as she skipped across my yard. My yard, I smiled.

I showered and was bouncing off the walls as I entered my new living room. I couldn't wait to lie on the black comfy leather sofa and watch a movie. That was my plans for that Sat.u.r.day night. I was going to the grocery store first, not about to get sidetracked or forget that again.

Then I was going to rent a movie or two and come back, lie on my couch and eat spaghetti. I loved spaghetti and Drew had hated it. The only time I would get it was when he took me to 'Trattoria da Cesare,' a famous Italian restaurant on Las Vegas Boulevard, I mean Carson Boulevard. I giggled to myself and felt like a giddy little teenager.

I was home by eight, listening to my new radio and country music as I chopped the needed ingredients for my spaghetti. I wondered what Lauren was doing. I should invite her over for spaghetti. I wished I could call her. I looked out the front door, and there were no lights on. She wasn't home. I went out to the back deck and gazed out at the moon over the ocean. For the first time in an awful long time I felt light-hearted and had a new sense of calm.

I would never again worry about what kind of mood Drew was going to be in when he got home. I would never again worry about focusing on what I could do to improve myself so that I didn't set him off. I would focus on me for the first time in my life. I clasped my hands together and pressed them to my lips, almost as if I were praying and thanking G.o.d for my courage to do what I had done, and be where I was standing. I truly was grateful.

My new sense of being was shattered once again when I heard the loud knock on the door. Would I ever get used to this? Would I ever be able to breathe and not think that it was someone there to get me?

I looked out and saw Lauren. She pushed herself in carrying a bag and busily started talking as she removed its contents.

”So, I figured I might as well get this myself. It was pretty obvious that you were not going to,” she said handing me the new cellphone. ”You have to have a phone, Riley,” she a.s.sured me.

”Lauren, I can't accept this.” I tried to hand it back.

”Hmm, this looks good,” she said, sticking her finger in my homemade sauce, ignoring me.

”Lauren!”

”Look, Riley. I don't know what your story is, and I am not going to pry. If you ever need to talk I am here, and you never have to worry about me saying anything to anyone. Even if you never tell me your story, you still need a phone. It's pretty clear that you are afraid of having a phone in your name, so I put it on my plan. I am not giving you anything. The phone was free to add a line, and you can pay me the monthly thirty five dollar payment. Okay?”

How could I argue with that? Why was she, so h.e.l.l bent on being nice to me? Not that I was complaining, it just felt sort of superficial. No. Stop it, Morg, I mean, Ry, not everyone has a motive.

”Thank you, Lauren. Would you like to stay for supper?”

”No, but I want leftovers tomorrow. I kind of have a visitor that I need to get back to. I put my number in your phone already, in case you need anything. I'm leaving before you hug me again.”

I laughed and watched her walk back to her house.

There was a guy building a fire off to the side of her house. I watched as he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. I wondered who he was and if he was her boyfriend.

I finally sat down to enjoy my spaghetti and the movie 'Wanderl.u.s.t with Jennifer Aniston.' I couldn't contain my nosiness and peeked through the crack in the curtains across the yard every now and then. I watched Lauren lead her friend into her house by the hand around eleven. She probably wouldn't tell me about him unless I asked. I wouldn't, I mean, it wasn't like I was sharing any part of my life with her.

I slept like a baby in my new bed but woke a little too early, thanks to Lauren. I reached for my new cellphone on the nightstand and read the new text.

”You up?”

”I am now,” I answered.

”Make coffee, I'm on my way over.”

Okay. I said out loud, forcing myself out of bed. I didn't even have time to completely finish peeing before she was knocking on my door.

”Good morning,” she said, way too happy. I glanced at the clock, and it was only eight. I wasn't sure I liked her much anymore. She walked past me and started the coffee herself.

”I'm going to brush my teeth,” I said and left her alone. When I returned she was in my refrigerator, retrieving the leftover spaghetti.

”Want some?”

”No. Help yourself.” I sarcastically replied.

I sat on my new sofa, and she talked. Not about anything particular, she was just rattling on about this and that. I sleepily listened and wished I had slept another hour while she warmed up my leftovers.

”What are you doing today?” she asked, pus.h.i.+ng my feet off the couch so that she could sit.

There is a chair right there.

”I want to walk down to the beach. Other than that, I guess I don't have any. Why?”

”I bowl on Sunday afternoon. Wanna come?” she asked, sucking spaghetti through her lips.

”No. I don't think so, but thanks.”

”Come on, Riley, it's fun. I will introduce you to some of my friends.”

”I will, Lauren, just not today.”

”Okay.” she replied, and I was glad that she didn't insist. I certainly wasn't up for meeting new people yet.

I dressed in a pair of dark blue wind pants with two small white stripes, and a white cotton s.h.i.+rt, unb.u.t.toned overtop of a red t-s.h.i.+rt. I was definitely going shopping for new clothes. Yes. I did once wear worse than what I had now, but I had gotten used to the designer clothing that was a vital part of my life for the past six years. Somewhere in-between this and that would be good, I decided as I tied the also used sneakers. I felt ashamed of myself. I shook my head in disbelief of wearing someone else's shoes. There was a time in my life that my toes cramped, curled in the only shoes that I had to wear, probably two sizes too small.

I started down the path, holding onto the boulders as I made my way to the beach. This was surely not what I had pictured when I thought about living by the beach.

From what I had seen so far, there was no beach. I climbed and maneuvered my way through the sa.r.s.ens.

Some of the s.p.a.ces between the rocks were barely wide enough to squeeze through. It was probably a good thing that I was required to keep in shape. Finally, I was in the clearing. I moaned a disgusted breath when I saw that the large peak that I had been looking at from my deck, didn't allow room for walking. The only way I would be able to walk north was sprint while the tide gave maybe a foot of wet sand. I would do it, just not that day. I chose instead to walk south. The beach was nice, and I decided that I had found my new favorite place when in a distance I witnessed a pirate s.h.i.+p. I knew that it wasn't a real pirate s.h.i.+p, but with the many sails, it could have pa.s.sed as one.

The windjammer was moving away from the lighthouse on a peak in the distance.