Safe Harbor (The Lake Trilogy, Book 3) (20 page)

We drive in silence about half way until I take over driving. Between driving and running through scenarios
of what to say or how this might go, I don’t think Will can concentrate on anything else. The good part about it is that I’ve had complete control of the satellite radio this entire time, which never happens since Will is always working to expose me to new music.

“Do you know anything about this hotel Wes said we just
had
to stay at?” I ask quietly. Caroline and Ryan are asleep. Caroline is curled up at his side, both with earbuds in their ears and iPhones clutched in their hands.

“He didn’t say much, just that it’s an old-timey place with music from our next lesson,” Will says.

“Wes knows what my next lesson is before I do? Sounds like you’re cozying up to him a little more,” I say.

“Yeah, well…he’s not going anywhere so I think I
’d better. Not that I want him to go anywhere. He’s great to my mom, and she’s crazy about him. I’ve never seen her so happy. She deserves to be happy and I’m on board with whatever it takes to keep her that way.” Will’s tone is soft and I can hear the real love he has for how happy Eliana is. I hope we’re going to find that Cheryl has found that same kind of happiness, too.

It’s 6:30 pm on the dot when we pull into the parking lot of the Old Virginian Hotel.
It’s huge and ornate, reminding me of The Plaza Hotel in New York that I’ve seen in movies and the
Eloise
books my mom used to read to me when I was little. When we check in, the stately gentleman behind the counter tells us that the rooms have already been paid for.

“I told Luke not to do that,” Will says
.

“Deal with it. Arguing with him about money is like me arguing with you
about money,” I tell him followed by a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’ve got to know when to pick your battles!”

Will makes a 7:
45 pm dinner reservation for the four of us in the hotel restaurant. I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to the life that Luke and Claire brought me into. The fancy cars and homes, the luxury hotels and unlimited funding. If they weren’t so nonchalant about it, I don’t think I could handle it at all. As it is, I’m still learning to let go and let them all take care of me.

Caroline and I request a small nap and time to freshen up before dinner, although she and Ryan
slept practically the whole way here. We kiss our men and send them to their room across the hall. Ryan gives a boisterous “Dude!” as he walks into their room first. Will raises an eyebrow at me and chuckles as he closes the door.

“I wish I was a fly on
that
wall!” Caroline says, making us both laugh.

“Between both of your accents, you’ve got your own foreign language at times,” I say, still laughing.

“Why, I don’t know
what
you’re talkin’ about!” she says with her most southern drawl.

“So
,
makes you want to jump up and slap your mamma
is common vernacular?” Of all the southernisms Caroline has ever said, this one sent me rolling the most!

“They were
really
good pancakes!”

We throw ourselves onto our beds and spread out. The queen-size beds are gorgeous with dark, cherry wood head and footboards. The bedding and all of the décor in the room is burgundy and gold and I can’t help but feel a tad bit
like royalty.

I’ve never stayed anywhere this beautiful before. I used to feel guilty about loving this new life I’ve been growing into
. Guilty because I wouldn’t have any of it if my parents hadn’t died. I used to think I had to either be happy or sad about my situation and if I was sad about my parents’ death then I couldn’t be happy about my new life. If I was happy about my new life, I wasn’t sad enough about my parents’ death. It took a long time, but I finally came to realize that I could feel both emotions. I can be sad about my parents’ death and happy about my new life – they don’t cancel each other out. It’s about accepting my past and being grateful for my future.

“Can I ask you a question?” I say to Caroline.

“Since when have you needed permission to ask me a question?” Caroline scrunches her nose at me.

“Because I want to ask you something personal…and embarrassing,” I tell her.

“Oh, this should be good! Spill it, girl!” Caroline is way too excited about this and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it out.

“Well…um…uh…have you and Ryan…you know…” I stutter.

“Have we what?”

“You know…had…you know…” I’m so embarrassed at my asking this question that I roll onto my side, leaving Caroline to stare at my back.

“I’m just givin’ you a hard time!” she giggles. “You want to know if Ryan and I have had sex?”

“You suck! You know how I am about that kind of stuff!” I toss an accent pillow at her and it misses her by an inch.

“Ok, ok! Yes, we have,” she tells me.

“Was he your first?” I ask.

Caroline hesitates for a moment before answering. “No. Chris was my first.”

“I keep forgetting you guys dated for, like, a year,” I say.
“Um…”

“What was it like?”
she asks, reading my mind. “Well…to be honest…the first time it wasn’t that great. It was kind of awkward, really. Neither one of us knew what we were doing. I mean, we knew what we were doing, we just weren’t doing very well.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Not that I want all the gross details, I’m just curious as to what makes it so awkward. I thought that when two people had sex because they really loved each other that everything just fell into place. Eww…that didn’t sound right.”

“It’s not a Julia Roberts movie, Layla
!
No one
knows how to do it the first time. You might know what goes where, but the mechanics of getting there can be weird. You don’t know what to do with your hands, or where to put your arm. And as the girl, you spend half your time trying to be all sexy that your head isn’t in it. It wasn’t until we had done it a few times that Chris and I got into a groove,” she explains. I have always appreciated how forthcoming Caroline is.

“What about you and Ryan?” I ask hesitantly. I’m usually not this intrusive, but since the reality that Will and I are getting married in less than six months started sinking in last week, I’ve been thinking about this a lot.

“With Ryan it was different. We weren’t each other’s first. But…we did have to give each other some time to understand the other one,” she says. I sigh, frustrated at my lack of knowledge on the topic. “Don’t worry, Layla.”

“It feels like a double-edged sword, you know? On the one hand, I’m glad I’ve waited, and that Will is going to be my first, and me his. On the other hand, I feel like I’m not bringing any experience to the table
…or the bed. As much as I don’t like to think about it, at least Will’s
done stuff
with other girls and has some idea of what he’s doing. Will has been my first
everything
.”

“It won’t matter how many girls
Will has
done stuff
with, or even if he ever had sex with anyone before you. It’ll be his first time with the woman he’s madly in love with. The woman he’s moved hell and high water to be with. The woman he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. It’ll be all new, because it’s you.” Caroline moves from her bed to mine.

“Thanks.
” I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. She’s used her logic and love to once again talk me down off the ledge. “I’m so glad I have you.”

Caroline and I exit the elevator in the lobby and make our way towar
d the hotel restaurant and I hear music crooning. It’s old and melodic, different than the current popular stuff made now. It’s lovely…and familiar.

Will and Ryan are waiting for us outside the restaurant with
huge smiles across their faces. Caroline teasingly questions them about what they talked about during our little rest time and I feel my face flush at the thought that they might have had a similar conversation to Caroline and me. I get over it quickly knowing that Will isn’t that free with information about us, and he barely knows Ryan. That, and Ryan says they had a
“whose woman is better
contest”. Will says they went back and forth for a while and decided to call it a draw.

I take Will’s hand and we all begin to move into the restaurant when I realize the origins of the familiar music I heard just moments ago. The memory is brought rushing back into my mind when the signage announcing tonight’s music will be a tribute to Nat King Cole.
Orange Colored Sky
is beginning to play and I immediately stop and turn around, making a beeline for the front door to get some fresh air.

I’m outside only seconds before
I hear Will calling my name. I’m starting to hyperventilate when I feel Will’s arms cover me.

“Layla? Honey? What’s the matter? Are
you sick? Do you want me to take you back to your room? I can have them bring up some soup or something. Maybe some ginger ale and crackers?” He’s so attentive that I hate to tell him that this episode has nothing to do with being physically ill. Although, in the past, the memories flooding my mind have made me want to throw up.

“I’m not sick, Will,” I tell him as I begin to calm. I take a few deep breath
s to regain control of my lungs. “The music…” I begin.

“Yeah, it’s our next music lesson. I happened to mention it to Wes and he said he knew of this great hotel that ha
s a restaurant where they frequently do tributes to the Greats. He checked and they happened to be doing Nat King Cole tonight. It’s perfect timing, don’t you think?” Will’s idea of perfect timing and mine are proving to be two different things in this situation.

“I can’t go in there, Will,” I say.

“Why not?” Will is obviously confused by my refusal, and rightly so. Who can’t go into a restaurant playing music by the great Nat King Cole?

“I…I can’t listen to Nat King Cole.”

“That’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me. Why on earth can you not listen to Nat King Cole? He’s one of the greatest artists in history! In fact, I want
L-O-V-E
to be the song we walk back down the aisle to at our wedding,” he tells me.

It takes me a moment but I gather my
self, and the words to tell him, “
Orange Colored Sky
was playing on the radio the night of the accident…the moment of the accident.” I close my eyes, thinking of that tragic night, remembering things I haven’t thought of in a really long time. “I don’t just hear Nat King Cole…I hear tires screeching and horns blaring and my mother screaming. I can’t go in there. I’m sorry.”

Will looks at me, his eyes
confused, then softening, and then seeming to resolve. “Yes…you can…and you will.”

“I can’t, W
ill. The memory is too much. I hear his music, any of it, and all I want to do is cry,” I say.

“We’re not running from our past anymore. Neither of us! We have to go back in there so you can create a new memory to go with the g
reatness of this music. We won’t let it be the sad symphony to that tragic scene in the movie of your life. We’ll turn it into something new.” Will has my hands in his and I want to believe what he’s telling me is possible. I want to believe that I can create a new memory, but I just don’t know how. “Let’s make it the soundtrack to the night we settled on our honeymoon, or talked about how many kids we want and what we want to name them.
Anything
that is about our future and not our past.”

“You’ve thought about how many kids we’re going to have?” I ask softly
after a moment of letting his words begin to sink in. I haven’t even thought about that. Then again, I’m just now really used to the idea that I’m going to have a future that includes a husband and a family who would literally do
anything
for me.

“Of course I have,” he says, smiling. He looks a little surprised, too, realizing that I haven’t.
“I think about our future all the time.”

“That’s really wonderful, Will, but…” I begin.

“No buts, Layla. We’re going back in there. I’m not going to let this control you. I love you too much to let this continue to hurt you, and keep us from something that is so special about our relationship.”

I don’t want to go back in there and listen to the last music my parents heard before they died. I want to avoid it like the plague. I want to pretend t
hat Nat King Cole never existed. But…I can’t pretend that Will isn’t right, which is why I’m so happy to have him. He’s shed a shining light on all the things I’ve kept in the dark, all the things I haven’t wanted to face.  Now it seems like the last thing I’ve been afraid of, the last thing I’ve been hiding from Will, is finally being unearthed.

“I want to, Will, really,” I say, unsure of my ability to connect what I want with what I’m capable of doing.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I mean we’ve been doing music lessons since we met. You had to have thought that this was going to come up,” Will says. He’s confused and I can’t blame him. I’d be confused, too.