The Kiss on Castle Road (A Lavender Island Novel) (21 page)

“You’re a strong girl,” Paige said quietly. She sounded almost apologetic. “I want to see you stand on your own. I’m impressed with everything you’ve done here so far—the jobs you’ve taken on. You’re taking great care of Lily. You’re committing to a lot of impressive things with the seniors. But I want you to take this mancation seriously. Prove to yourself that you can be a whole person by yourself. No boyfriend. Three months.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I’m serious. Olivia and I are worried about you. We don’t want you to be forty someday and realize you have nothing—no serious job, no serious man, no savings, no home.”

Natalie looked away. She had to admit that she, too, had this worry sometimes, much more often as she neared thirty. She knew she had a lot of time, but she was shocked at how fast her twenties were going by—she might slide right into her thirties, playing these same runaway games, and be caught on the end of that decade with nothing to show. She certainly had nothing to show for her twenties.

She shook out her arms and took a deep breath, putting on her new mature, relaxed face. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m very determined.”

Paige reached out her hand. “Okay, then. Double or nothing. All three months.”

Natalie stared at her hand for a second, wondering again if this was the right thing to do, but then shook. It was. She needed to show her sisters the truth. The new Natalie. She was taking on responsibility, commitment, and making good decisions. She was independent. She’d be fine on her own.

“I need to talk to Elliott today, though—just warning you,” she said.

“I don’t mind if you
talk
to him—just no kissing and no sex. Can you do that?”

“Of
course
.”

Natalie decided not to analyze how close to a lie that was. After the last three toe-curling kisses and the sexy new way he looked at her from under his eyebrows, she knew it might very well be a problem. But she’d just have to lie to herself, stay out of his radius, and avoid falling any further to prove she was as independent as she kept saying she was.

“Then talk away.” Paige shrugged.

Natalie could hear the smile—or maybe the taunt—in Paige’s voice, and she simply ground her teeth in response.

“C’mon,” Paige said, lifting from her chair. “Let’s build Lily a sand castle before I have to catch the ferry home.”

By the time Natalie ended the day, she felt like a real grown-up. She’d owned up to all her mistakes; arranged to pay for them as best she could; had been through several phone trees to talk to insurance agents; found a temporary replacement cart for Olivia; said her apologies; walked Paige and her luggage to the ferry; and even managed to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for Lily and play five excruciating rounds of Candy Land. If this wasn’t being an adult, she didn’t know what was.

One thing remained, though: she still needed to talk to Elliott. And she knew another apology was in order. It was rude of her to run away from him the way she had, especially when he’d become freaking Superman last night. It was time to face the music. She would call on her greatest maturity and refuse to fall for him any further. She could do this.

“Elliott? It’s me, Natalie,” she said into the phone, staring at the sun starting to set out the slider door. “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Uh . . . yeah. Let’s talk in person. I’ll head down your way.”

She smoothed her hair back into its braid and went outside to wait for him.

He looked really good today. He had on beach shorts and a button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. His hair was a mess as usual, being blown about by the wind, but that was one of the things she was starting to love about him. He had on his glasses today, but he must have gotten transition lenses because they’d darkened into shades in front of the setting sun. She watched him coming up the dune with his hands in his pockets, silhouetted against the sherbet-orange sky, and wondered how she’d ever missed how hot Dr. Sherman was.

“Let’s go down,” he said, nodding back toward the ocean.

They wandered along the water’s edge, the ocean splashing their bare feet, as Natalie assured him everything was taken care of regarding the golf cart and that she didn’t need any help.

“But mostly I wanted to apologize,” she said in a whoosh.

A small wave overtook their calves. “Apologize?”

“For running away from you last night. I should have left the evening expressing my thanks that you got us through something that was so scary, but instead I ran away and said nothing.”

“Why were you running away?”

“I was just . . .”

It was hard for Natalie to admit this. She didn’t want to let her feelings out of Pandora’s box and let them fly all willy-nilly. She needed to keep them controlled, with names she could handle. It wasn’t just the bet money. It was because she didn’t know what these particular emotions were. She didn’t know what this fear was; she didn’t know what that relief was when she fell into Elliott’s arms last night; she didn’t know what drove her to kiss him when they weren’t even dating. She’d had rushes of lust toward many men, but this was something deeper and scarier. It was soft and soothing and vulnerable and raw all at the same time.

She took a deep breath. “It was just an emotional night, and my emotions were all over the place, and then I kissed you, but I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean it in a . . . you know, in an
attracted
kind of way. I meant it in an
emotional
kind of way. But then I worried that I was giving the completely wrong message. And I’m on a mancation, and I have to win this bet with Paige, so I can’t have feelings for you.”

He did a double take. “Feelings?”

“Yes, feelings.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“No. I
can’t
have feelings for you. That’s what I’m saying. We can be friends. But that’s it. And you should date Becky. You said you might want something long-term, and you’re a long-term kind of guy, and Becky’s probably right for that, and I might be a commitment-phobe, and . . . I’m just making a mess of all of this. I’m so sorry I kissed you like that, and I should apologize to her, too.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not dating.”

“What?”

“I went over last night and told her we probably shouldn’t go out anymore.”

Natalie stopped in the sand. The ocean roared behind her. “What?
Why?
”

The wind whipped his hair about his head as he glanced out into the water, then back at her. “Because maybe I’m having feelings for you, too.”

She sucked in her breath and backed away slightly. “No, Elliott. You can’t have feelings for me. I’m not—I’m on a
mancation
, and I have to win this bet. And if you have feelings for me, then . . . Please, you
can’t
call things off with her.”

She closed her eyes. This couldn’t be happening. This was not a mancation. This was falling right back into a relationship. She didn’t want to lose the bet money, of course, but mostly she needed to prove to herself that she was strong enough to be by herself for three friggin’ months out of her very long life. Elliott was handsome and sexy and smart—he fascinated her on an intellectual level and was starting to make her heart pound every time he looked at her. And he made her feel strong and worthwhile. But she needed to feel worthwhile on her own.

“I truly can’t see you, Elliott.”

“How about if we wait until the mancation ends—then I’ll ask you out?”

She told herself not to look at how cute his smile was when he asked that. Instead, she focused on the misery falling down through her stomach.

“I’m not sure that’s how mancations work. If I know you’re on the horizon, I’m not legitimately taking a break, now am I? And besides, Paige doubled down and extended it for my whole stay.”

He dropped his head. A long silence followed in which he probably realized what she was saying.

“Okay, I can take a hint. Or not so much a hint—a direct request. I’ll leave you alone.” He started to walk away.

“Wait! You don’t have to leave altogether. I mean, we can be friends, right?”

His smile turned wry. “I . . . I don’t really know if that’s possible, Natalie.”

“Let’s try. You’re such a nice guy. Really. And I like having you as a friend.”

“Nice?”

“Of course.”

Natalie felt as if she’d lost him. She joked with him the rest of the walk, and he laughed at all the right places, but he seemed distant, as though he’d already moved on, moved his heart out of playing range and into a safe place.

She didn’t blame him.

But she’d make this work.

Even if she had to lie to herself the whole time.

CHAPTER 19

On Monday morning, Natalie got up and began her workweek, excited about her more mature life and ready to keep turning over new leaves.

She, Lily, and Olivia fell into their morning routine over the next two weeks, and work at Casas del Sur kept her busy. The only thing she avoided at all costs was driving to the Friends of the Sea Lion center. Being only friends with Elliott—and keeping her heart from pounding like a giddy schoolgirl’s every time she saw him—was going to take some working up to. Being a strong, independent woman was harder than she thought.

“Why don’t you take us this week instead of John-O?” Doris asked over a bridge hand on the Casas del Sur poolside patio.

“John-O and I have a pretty good system set up,” Natalie said, looking at her new hand. “Besides, I like going on the harbor walks with all of you.”

Katherine, Marie, and Helen all bobbed their sun hats in understanding.

“Of course, dear, but we miss having you at the center,” Doris said. “No trump.”

Natalie noticed that Doris didn’t mention another certain someone who might miss having her at the center, so she remained silent on that matter.

“John-O and I have worked out a good system,” Natalie repeated. “Pass.”

“They’re going to need lots of volunteers,” Doris said. “They’re already seeing a crazy onslaught this week. Dr. Sherman seems distraught.”

“Distraught?” Natalie snapped her head up.

“He’s been very stressed out.”

A pang of sadness shot through Natalie. She hated to think of Elliott getting more stressed out about his sea lions. “Are they surviving?” she asked hesitantly.

“The sea lions are doing surprisingly well, although they’re getting crowded now. They had their first few releases this week and were able to send fifteen back into the wild. But the numbers keep increasing, and some of the sea lions are getting sicker again. I think they’re getting close to a hundred now.”

“
A hundred?
All there at once?”

“They could really use your help, dear.” Doris swept up the hand she’d just won. “Of course, I told Dr. Sherman and Dr. Stout they need some downtime. They can’t keep working at that level of intensity and last all spring. Dr. Sherman said he runs in the mornings.”

Natalie stared at her cards. Yeah, she knew that. She’d been setting her alarm a half hour earlier so she could go out on the balcony in the peaceful beach silence and sit with her coffee to catch glimpses of Elliott running along the beach. She never in a million years thought she’d be the type of person to get up every morning at five thirty, of her own volition, but there she was, day after day, sitting on the patio, peering through the bougainvillea. When Paige came in on the weekends, Natalie skipped the ritual, but come Monday morning she was out there again. She told herself she didn’t
need
to. She told herself she just liked getting a jump-start on her day. Some days the fog rolled in and she could barely see him—just a rhythmic, lithe form, moving to the sound of the ocean waves roaring in and hissing out—and it gave her peace: the ocean, Elliott’s movement, knowing he was still out there, knowing they were the only two on the beach at that exact moment.

“I’m also giving Dr. Sherman dance lessons starting on Tuesday,” Doris said.

Natalie looked up again from her cards. “
Dance
lessons?”

“The Colonel and I are giving him a dating makeover.”

Natalie ignored the pang of jealousy that shot through her and reorganized her cards in her hand. This would be good. If she was going to be a true friend, she should be happy he was dating. He deserved to meet someone nice and long-term. She’d chosen to bow out of that plan. She could barely commit to a phone plan. And she’d never wanted to stay on the island—the idea made her claustrophobic as soon as she thought about it.

She just needed to stay out of Elliott’s way for a little while and get her independence established. Then she could possibly reenter his life as a true friend.

“Why don’t you come to the center with us this week and maybe lend an extra hand?” Doris pressed.

“No trump,” Natalie said. “What can I help with?”

“They definitely need help cleaning the ICU rooms.”

The other women nodded over their cards in agreement.

“One spade,” said Katherine.

“And they could use more towels, and help washing the towels they have,” Doris added.

“Definitely,” Marie said. “Pass.”

“Actually, that’s a great idea,” Doris said. “If we all get together, we can probably help with the towels. We have a lot of washing machines here at the apartments—many more than they do. Maybe we can start a rotation.”

Natalie nodded. That would have to do. She wanted to help, but she didn’t trust herself to see Elliott right now.

“So, did we find a band for the prom?” Katherine asked, laying down one of her cards.

“We found a great big band on the mainland, and they even said they’d let Trummy play along with them,” Doris said.

“That’s perfect,” Natalie said. “Do you need me to arrange anything or take the ferry over?”

“No, you’ve been doing a terrific job with all your ideas so far—I love everything you’ve added.”

“Thanks.” Natalie had been having fun with the planning. She realized she’d absorbed more from her mother than she’d thought, and the organization came easily for her. She was able to find plenty of low-cost decorations, arrange numerous vendors, and coordinate entire teams to take care of things.

“We do need to get the favors we ordered,” Doris said. “They’re coming on the five o’clock ferry tomorrow night. Can you pick them up for us?”

“Sure.” Natalie punched the details into her phone calendar.

“Who are you bringing to the prom, Natalie?” Katherine asked.

“I’m not bringing anyone. I’m on a mancation.”

Doris looked at her quizzically. “A mancation?”

“A vacation from men.”

“Why are you running away from men, dear?”

“I’m not running away.”

Doris and Marie seemed to pass heavy glances at each other.

“That sounds like a good thing then,” Doris said. “I would just hate to think you were running away from men altogether. Like Dr. Sherman, for instance.”

Natalie’s heart pounded ridiculously when Doris said that—she hadn’t realized her feelings might be that transparent—but she ignored her heart and moved her aces together.

Doris smiled. “Your mancation sounds like a fine idea, if it’s to find your strength as a woman. That’s always a good thing. But I would think that a mancation is supposed to be taking a
self-imposed
vacation from men to build that strength, not running away from certain men. I’d say you should spend time with men plenty. Like Dr. Sherman. But simply resist the idea of hooking up with him.”

“Doris!”

“Oh, I know you young people move things fast these days. I probably would, too, if I’d been born in your decade. I’m just saying, resist the hanky-panky. Just spend time as an independent woman. He won’t bite. If you don’t want him to.” She giggled with Marie.

“Doris!”

“Anyway, quite frankly, I think he needs a friend.”

A slice of panic went through Natalie. “What’s wrong?”

Doris glanced up at her and gave her a small, knowing grin. “Nothing’s wrong, per se, but you’re such a kind girl, and he seems adrift, and I think you could be a good friend to him. You seem to understand and boost him.”

“
Boost
him?”

“You boost his confidence instead of tearing it down. The other women on the island—including his sister—seem to want him to change, to be something he’s not. More debonair, more outgoing, more mainstream, more this, more that. But you allow him to be himself. I think he needs someone like you right now. He’s a lovely man. A true
gentleman
, as we used to say. And he needs someone who will let him be the man he needs to be. Anyway, trump for me. We’d better get these cards put away so we can get to swimming aerobics.”

Natalie pushed her cards toward Doris and sat in the chair long after the ladies shuffled away.

Trump, indeed.

The following Wednesday, Natalie realized Doris was right. She couldn’t run away from Elliott forever. When Steve Stegner asked for a volunteer to drive the cart to the center, she accepted.

As she pulled up the Concierge cart in front of the Friends of the Sea Lion center, she took a deep breath, adjusted her cap, and reminded herself to stay strong.

She dropped each of the volunteers off at their respective jobs, guiding some by the elbow. Her eyes widened at the sheer numbers of new sea lions. Little pups were all over the floors in every ICU room, some in baby playpens, some on towels on the cement. Varying levels of barks came from all corners of the hallways—some strong and sure, some weak and needy. Outside at the pools, there wasn’t enough room either, and a few blowup pools had been set up to handle the overflow.

More volunteers than usual moved from one room to another, handling group feedings, medication, weighing, checkups, and “fishing for food” training at the pools.

Natalie glimpsed Elliott outside a propped-open back door waiting on a new rescue. He and Jim were motioning a golf cart in with gloved hands. They both leaped onto the cart bed to haul another cage off, handing it off one to another.

“This is a heavier one,” Jim grunted.

“Good news, overall,” Elliott said.

“Parasite infection,” young Garrett said as he hopped out of the driver’s seat, clipboard in hand.

Elliott hauled the cage in one deft movement toward the gurney he and Jim had waiting and glanced up at Natalie, almost dropping the cage.

“Natalie!”

“Hi, Elliott.”

Jim came up behind him and grabbed the cage out of Elliott’s seemingly frozen hand. “I’ve got this. You should take a break, Sherm. You’ve been at this all morning.
Garrett!
Come help me get this guy into check-in.”

Elliott pulled his gloves off and plopped down on a stair stoop.

“Good to see you,” he said. “I haven’t seen you around in a while.” He motioned toward a wooden barrel that was next to the staircase.

Natalie took the barrel and sat beside him. “You’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, it’s been a little crazy.”

“Doris says you’re stressed out.”

Elliott gave a tired half smile. “Doris always exaggerates. But I am worried about this epidemic.”

“Is it worse than other years?”

“Yeah. I’m in touch with some scientists on the mainland, and they’re seeing an influx, too. It’s definitely dehydration for the pups. We think the mama sea lions are having to swim too far to get fish to feed their young, and by the time they’re getting back, the pups are scrambling toward shore and getting washed up, already dehydrated.”

He looked tired. Natalie had an urge to sit by him on the stoop and put her arm around him, but she didn’t think they had that kind of friendship yet. With Elliott’s admission that he might have feelings for her, and her own libido starting to go into overdrive just seeing him and his tanned forearms again, she didn’t know if that would be wise just yet.

“How’re Larry, Curly, and Moe?” she asked instead.

“Larry and Curly are doing okay. Moe took a bad turn five days ago and started losing weight. I’m keeping my eye on him.”

“Oh no! Lily will be upset.”

“Yeah, you might not want to bring her for a few days. Although . . . I mean, I noticed you haven’t.”

“Elliott . . .”

“Anyway, Moe looks bad, and the whole center looks crazy besides, so I wouldn’t bring her this week. We’re supposed to get some help from the mainland on Monday, so maybe after that things will look better.”

“Can I see Moe?”

“Of course.”

He walked her back into the center, popping his head in from room to room, until—amid the hundreds of brown-shaded sea lions in every corner—he somehow spotted Moe across a hall.

“There he is.”

Moe was in one of the little playpens in the fourth ICU room, plopped lethargically into the corner on the pink-and-blue play mat, his head down. His large brown eyes peered up at them.

“Oh! He looks terrible.”

“I think he may have contracted one of the viruses. Jim’s been checking him out. He was sent back here to ICU, where they can feed him intravenously. He’ll be okay, though. He’s a fighter.”

Natalie was pretty uncertain. Moe looked bad. His color had turned grayish again, and his ribs were showing. “Is there anything I can do right now?”

“Do you want to feed him?”

“Yes, I can do that.”

Elliott spoke with the volunteer who was handling the feedings and pointed back at Natalie.

Then he returned to her. “Feeding time is in fifteen minutes. Can you wait?”

“Definitely.”

“I have to get back to work.” He pointed in the opposite direction.

“Yes. Of course.”

He lingered in the doorway for a moment.

“It’s good to see you, Natalie,” he said before finally turning to leave.

Natalie felt her chest fall. He looked disappointed. Maybe he’d felt she abandoned him. Maybe he thought she didn’t want to be friends. Maybe he thought she was like all the others Doris had described who wanted him to change first. Or maybe . . . maybe she just didn’t know what she was doing, and she really didn’t know how to be friends with a man.