June 9th, 1990The airport reared its ugly gray head all too soon. I swallowed down tears as a plane soared overhead, the jets rumbling through the air. Matt parked the car in the rental station, handing the keys over to a man in a red vest. Matt carried his bag like a suitcase to the check-in line, his big biceps flexed as he moved across the shiny floor.The moments seemed to blur together, my brain refusing to accept what was going on. I turned to see Tony walking up, his arm draped protectively around Kimberly. She had tears running down her face. The tissue balled in her palm was past its usefulness, but she kept wiping her nose with it anyway.Dean squeezed my hand, letting me go for a moment, as he checked his bag and picked up his ticket. The three men were ready to head to the gate in less time than I had hoped. I wanted every moment, every step, to take twice as long as it should because that would be twice as long that I could spend with Dean.We were at the gate all too so
Two Years AgoI had to turn on the GPS guidance on my phone when I got into town. Everything was different, and even though the bar was still in the same spot, the buildings, and even the beach, were not. I finally found it, maneuvering the rental car into the quiet parking lot.What had once been the hottest disco bar in the small town was now a rundown country bar. Gravel and sand crunched under my feet as I headed up the rickety wooden steps toward the open door. It looked as though they had covered the open air portion of the bar. Bad country music blared out into the parking lot, the dim light from the bar glowing neon yellow and red.Inside, a girl with full tattoo sleeves leaned against the jukebox, feeding it quarters and singing along with the music. I could see where a fight had occurred earlier, a chair in pieces by the door. Several males were in a smoky corner, taking turns around a faded green pool table, but I wasn't there for them. I was there for the long-legged man s
June 16th, 1990I stumbled into my apartment, dropping the stack of bills on my kitchen table. They merged seamlessly with the other bills and junk mail, all waiting for me to be responsible and look at them. Nothing I was hoping for had come in the mail. I closed the door and kicked off my shoes, letting my toes stretch out and relax. I had been home for a week and was missing the beach terribly. No, I didn't miss the beach. I missed Dean. Six days, eight hours, and thirty-seven minutes since I had seen him last. And I had no idea how to fill the hole that was growing in my heart.I leaned back against the door, closing my eyes and remembering his face. Maybe a letter would come tomorrow. I had sent one off two days ago, carefully checking and then double-checking the address. It had been hard to write, not knowing where to start and then not knowing where to curb my words. I wanted to tell him that he was all I could think about, that I would wait for him to come back if he wanted.
June 20th, 1990I gripped my sketchbook tightly, making sure for the third time that I still had the designs from the night before. I had no idea what Mrs. Saunders looked like, how far along in her pregnancy she was, or what her build might be. I had sketched out a couple more maternity designs, but without meeting her, I didn't want to create too many, but I needed enough to impress.Mr. Martinez walked calmly in front of me, easily navigating the huge apartment building as we headed toward what he called "Mrs. Saunders' sun-room". The apartment was huge; bigger than what I would consider a house. I had a feeling the oil business, at least for the Saunders and DS Oil and Gas, was doing well.I was trying my very best not to be overwhelmed by everything, and I felt like I was doing a pretty good job. Mr. Martinez and I had arrived by a private plane and then drove straight into the city to the Saunders' household. I couldn't wait to go out and explore the city after my interview. The
June 20th, 1990Down at street level, I got into the waiting car and stared out the window. The driver was silent as I headed back to my hotel, and my mind was on designs rather than the giant buildings when something caught my eye. A young boy, about five or six years old, was walking resolutely along the sidewalk. He stopped, setting down a brightly-wrapped present, and pulled out an oversized map, his small face frowning as he tried to read it. The boy obviously was trying to get somewhere to deliver the gift, but I couldn't see an adult with him. I watched him for a moment as we sat at a light, wondering why he looked vaguely familiar.I gasped as it hit me where I had seen the boy before. He was the laughing child in the pictures on Mrs. Saunders' wall. His mother would be worried sick if she knew he was out on the streets of New York by himself."Stop the car!" I shouted, unbuckling my seat-belt and practically lunging for the door. The driver looked back at me in surprise, but
Present DayThe drive was just as awkward as I was afraid it was going to be. I drove carefully, heading down the highway to the small town on the Atlantic coast. The county jail was only a couple of blocks from the marina. I had, unfortunately, been there to pick Robbie up for public intoxication. Twice. The hospital was only a few streets down from that; luckily, I had never been there, but it would be easy enough to find.Dean sat comfortably in the passenger seat, his long legs crossed as he looked out the window. We had started out making polite conversation, remarking on the weather- it was supposed to rain later- and how the football season was going. Neither one of us really had the time to follow sports, so that was a short conversation. I didn't really want to discuss the current situation with Dean, and anything regarding the Saunders family was dangerous due to Daniel's condition. Our usually easy conversations, just didn't seem to flow. Our minds were elsewhere. As a resu
Present DayI pulled into the parking lot attached to an old wooden building with small windows that looked exactly like a small town police station in the movies. Dean sat quietly for a moment, as if debating saying something. Inside the darkened glass door with white lettering, I could see a man in a grayish tan uniform sitting at a desk filling out paperwork."I'll get the paperwork started while you're at the hospital. I'll call if we finish before you," Dean said. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something more, but instead changed his mind, pushing his lips together and opening the car door. I watched him walk into the station, his movements full of an unconscious deadly grace that can only come with years of practice. His hands opened the door, and I remembered how they had felt on my cheek. I took a deep breath. I couldn't think about that kiss right now, the way his hand cupped my jaw, the sweetness of his tongue... Stop it! You have work to do! I chided myself.T
Present DayI parked carefully in front of the police station, making sure I was evenly between the two lines. Just because Dean said he knew the sheriff, I didn't want to push my luck. I just wanted to get Robbie out with as little fanfare as possible and get him home to see his father.The door chimed softly as I walked in. It was a small building, barely more than a room and an office, with two barred cells along the back wall. Sitting in one of them was a very dejected-looking Robbie. He glanced up as I came in, and then put his head back in his hands to stare at the floor. Dean was leaning up against the chest-high wooden monstrosity of a desk, talking with a man in a crisp tan uniform."How were things at the hospital?" Dean asked, and all three men looked up to hear my answer."Samantha's doing fine. She's agreed not to press charges," I stated. I heard a low sigh of relief come from the cell. "May I talk with Robbie?""Yes, ma'am, you may. Dean and I here just have a few more
I never thought this day would come.Maybe when I was a little girl, I had hoped that someday it would. But I never actually believed it. It feels like a dream, but I know it’s not because it’s even better than anything I could have dreamt up.I’m marrying Gabe Honors. In just a few moments, I’ll be wed to the love of my life.I’m beyond nervous, but also ready. I’ve spent the last twenty minutes looking at myself in the mirror, making sure that my hair and makeup look absolutely perfect for him.“Hey, it’s almost time,” Cora says, as she steps beside me. “You look perfect, Harper. Seriously, you look gorgeous. Gabe is going to melt.”I hope she’s right.“Well, let’s do this,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m ready.”Just outside, my mom is standing there, holding my little nephew’s hand. He breaks away and runs up to give me a quick hug before she tells him to go take his seat. Mom looks almost more nervous than I am. She can’t keep her hands still and she’s tapping her t
The following week I finally sat down to prepare for my final blog post. My decision was made. It was time to say goodbye and pass the reigns onto a new owner. It made sense and it felt right.Gabe had told me to sleep on the decision, and for most of the week I had made my home at his house, which made sleeping really easy. But the truth was that it really hadn’t taken much deliberation; the blog seemed like a thing of the past, something that opened the door to new writing feats, and I was ready to walk through that door.During our time together I had allowed the blog to slip even further off my mind, which was entirely okay with me. I had checked in periodically and had found a quick selection for Worst Wednesday. But besides that, and for the first time in a long time, I hadn’t paid it much attention. It seemed that the blog and I had finally begun to outgrow each other. At one time it had been my baby, but now it was moving out, and Cora was the perfect guide.If there was anyth
I had been fairly sure that I would never see the inside of Gabe's house ever again, but now I was standing on the deck watching the ocean once more. Not that I was complaining, though. I was happy to be there. In fact, the view of the ocean with the sun overhead never looked so good.“I’m glad you came over today. We need to talk. I’m ready to work through this and make things right again. But first, we both have to come clean with each other,” Gabe said, leaning against the railing of his deck.“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” I agreed. My palms were sweating, but I felt calmer than I had in weeks.His surprise visit at the restaurant had happened just the night before and this was the first time we had really had a chance to hash things out. This conversation needed to happen. It had been a long time coming.“Where should we start?” he asked. The breeze from the ocean ruffled his dark hair.“I guess what I really don’t understand is why you hid it from me?” I asked, starting th
“So all of your readers think you’re out with Brian right now?” Cora asked.I nodded. “Yep, I’ve duped them all into thinking Brian is a real person that loves me just the way I should be loved. It’s too bad I had to make all that up, though, isn’t it.”“Whatever. I think it’s fine.” Cora just shrugged. “But I have to ask you an important question, Harper.”“What is it?” I asked, a little nervous.Cora turned to the side and set her jaw, making a serious face. “Do I look like a Brian to you?”I busted out laughing. Her goofy antics got me every time.“You know, you actually do!” I exclaimed. “You make a perfect Brian! Wow, I’m one lucky girl to be on a date with such a handsome man.”“Aw, thanks!” she said, as she turned back to face me and grinned. “If I talk like this does it make me sound like a Brian, too?”She lowered her voice as much as possible and crinkled her eyebrows together. I was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face. The good kind of tears, though, not
I sat down at my computer and clicked on the Internet. It was always the first step in starting a new blog post and I could almost feel the writer’s block start to set in as a blank window popped up on the screen and began loading.It had been just over two months since the breakup and about a month and a half since I had introduced Brian.Brian was a tall guy with a toned body, dark hair and eyes bluer than an open sky on a summer’s day. He was funny, smart, a hard worker in his career as a physical trainer, a huge sports fan and… completely fake.I had decided to create Brian in order to appease my Mother and to use as a marketing tool for the blog. After my readers had obsessed over my relationship with Gabe, Brian was designed to be Gabe 2.0 and to carry the burden of a new and passionate relationship. And completely fabricating a fake relationship was much easier than actually getting consumed by one.Brian took me on elaborate dates to all the exciting places around town without
I took a break from watching my blog to make some belated dinner. I heated up some left over lasagna and made a milkshake with some of the ice cream still left in the fridge as post-breakup comfort food. I couldn’t help but make fun of myself and my current state of affairs. It felt only fitting to throw on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix.After about a half hour I heard the phone ring.Immediately my heart skipped a beat. I had posted my blog late at night and had done so purposefully to avoid an instant reaction from Rosie or my Mom. But with as late as it was, realistically they were the only ones that would be calling.I checked the caller I.D. on the phone before answering. It was Rosie, which was better than Mom. I took a deep breath and clicked to accept the call.“Hey, Rosie,” I attempted cheerfully.“Hey, Big Sis!” she exclaimed.“What are you doing up so late?” I asked.“I fell asleep kind of early, and then the baby woke me up. My sleep schedule is so crazy now, thi
Well, the time has come. Every beginning has an end, and my relationship has found its end. Two weeks ago, Mr. Perfect Match and I broke up and it is time for the corresponding blog post (because blogging about breakups is the best way to move on, right??)It’s not the typical kind of post I’m used to writing. My life is filled with many more bad dates than bad breakups, and maybe that’s a good thing. But it also means that I’m entering new territory without the right map to guide me. They say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have lovedI stopped writing and glared at the screen. I highlighted the last sentence and hit delete as if the force of my click would hurt the words as they left the page. Love. It was like a bad word, something I had been conditioned not to say. And Gabe deserved no exception, even if it would appease an old stupid cliché about breakups.After a few moments of contemplation I picked up again where I left off.Time is a weird thing. It has the a
The plane ride to Orlando only took less than an hour, but it felt like an eternity. I spent the entire trip trying to hide my sobs, but of course it was impossible. Luckily, I had sat in the window seat and was able to face away from everyone while I cried, but I still knew that people were looking at me. The older lady sitting next to me even asked if there was anything she could do to help. I responded with, “If you can make men honest, that would help.” She just laughed and said, “I don’t think there’s anything I can do about that one.”My makeup was ruined, my hair was a mess and the clothes I had on were a day old. Needless to say, I wasn’t looking like I was ready to hit the town when I crawled off of the plane. It didn’t matter, though. Cora didn’t care what I looked like. She wouldn’t judge me. That was why I had come to see her in the first place.I had only taken a few steps out of the front doors of the airport before I heard Cora calling out my name. I hadn’t even gotten
After storming out of Gabe’s office, I went back to the bedroom and got dressed as quickly as possible. I was teeming with emotion, but I didn’t want to let out a single sob. I could save that for later, when I could enjoy a pint if ice cream and a few days of binge watching my favorite TV show. But for now, I needed to keep it together and act tough.So once I was dressed, I gathered my makeup from his countertop in his bathroom and tossed everything into my overnight bag. To think, I was considering what it would be like to spend my life with the guy and now I was doing everything possible to speed up the process of leaving his house for good.I can’t believe this. I should have known that it would only be a matter of time before something like this would happen to me, I thought. Why did I fool myself into thinking I could actually meet a decent guy?I zipped up my bag and tossed it over my shoulder. Before leaving the bedroom, I took one last look at the bed, where the blankets wer