Safe Harbor (Scoops Series Book 1), page 16
“C-Calvin?” she said, her voice breaking, the tears streaming down her cheeks again.
He was silent for a beat. “Where are you?”
“We went to a party,” she croaked. “And they left, and I don’t have a ride.”
“Where are you?” he asked again, his voice coming out harsher this time. She could hear movement on his end, then the muffled sound of a car door slamming shut.
“I don’t know, down a dirt road at this house on the river,” she answered. “I-I have an address.”
“I know where it is,” he said, his truck roaring to life. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Melanie nodded to herself as the call ended. She wrapped her arms around her legs and pressed her face into her knees.
Soon enough, she heard the sounds of Calvin’s truck pulling up next to her. He parked the car, not bothering to turn it off as he jumped out, kneeling down in front of her. She couldn’t stop crying as he tucked her hair behind her ears, rubbing his thumbs against her cheek to catch her tears.
Before she could say anything, he was scooping her up into his arms, lifting her into the passenger seat of his truck, and gently closing the door. When he got to his side he pulled her close to him. She rested her head on his shoulder as he shifted gears.
Chapter Fourteen
Calvin pulled his truck behind Scoops and cut the ignition, the lights going dark. He slid Melanie into his lap and wrapped an arm tightly around her. He cupped her head as she continued to cry gloopy tears, his thumb brushing against her cheek.
“I...I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice scratchy.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he murmured, squeezing her side.
“You were clearly busy.”
“Trust me,” he said, nuzzling her neck with his nose before looking up into her eyes. “It’s really okay.”
She exhaled, her breath uneven. He just sat there, stroking her gently, not pushing or prodding her about why she was so upset. She thought about the way she curled her body next to his by the bonfire just days before, how safe she felt. Even if he wasn’t asking, the time felt right to finally tell him.
So she took a deep, sobering breath, and launched into her story.
When they’d gotten the call, Melanie’s face was planted in her textbook, drooling right onto the page about Kinetic Molecular Theory. She knew she didn’t need to cram like this—she could just take her AP Chem exam and probably be just fine. But with the end of her junior year at Garrison Prep coming to a close, Melanie knew these were the last grades Yale would see on her application. She couldn’t chance at failing, not with Yale on the line.
She’d jumped as her door opened abruptly.
“Damn,” she said, craning the side of her head to stretch out the kink in her neck. She looked over at her clock and saw that it was just past midnight.
Mom was at the door, looking frantic. “Get your shoes on.”
She frowned, rising up out of her seat, feeling the air shift around her. “What’s wrong?”
“Hospital,” she said, not bothering to explain more as she stepped out of the room. “We need to go. Now.”
Melanie felt dizzy for a moment as she listened to her mom’s footsteps charging down the stairs, their car’s ignition roaring to life outside. She snatched her sneakers and followed.
The hospital was only a thirteen minute drive, but to Melanie, it felt like a lifetime—even if Dad broke every traffic law possible to get there. She shoved her bare feet into her Converse, not bothering to tie them, her leg bouncing nervously as the three of them sat there in excruciating silence.
From pitch black darkness to blinding fluorescent lights, the three of them charged for the front desk.
“Duncan Chase Albertson,” Mom asked the receptionist, her voice shrill. “Which room is he in?”
“I’m sorry, you can’t see him yet. There are doctors with him running the necessary tests.”
“Let me go in there with him then,” Mom barked. “I’m his mother, he’s still a minor.”
“I will alert them that you are here,” the receptionist said calmly, clearly used to people coming into the hospital completely panicked. “They will come find you, have a seat.”
She leaned in looking like she was ready to scream, but Dad grabbed her, guiding her toward the waiting area.
“Thank you,” Melanie mumbled to the receptionist. She sat down next to Mom who was keeled over, face in her hands.
Melanie turned to her father. “What’s going on?”
“We got a call from the hospital, they said Duncan was brought in by an ambulance. Alcohol poisoning.”
Melanie looked down at the cartoon turtles on her ratty, worn pajama pants. Ambulance. Alcohol poisoning.
“Wasn’t he supposed to be at prom?”
Dad sighed. “I don’t think he ever meant to go to prom.”
Wow, she thought, letting his words sink in and realizing what fools they all were. It was a tale as old as time. Duncan thought of every lie in the book to get out of the house. No matter how grounded he was, no matter how much he let that lion roar and create a storm of fury at home, he always seemed to find a way. And her parents fell for it every single time.
This time, it was prom, obviously. Duncan had told them he was invited by one of the seniors on the girl’s lacrosse team. He was even extra convincing this time; having her come over for dinner last week, the five of them sitting at the table like a normal, polite, civil family. Even though just days earlier, he’d thrown three dinner plates across that very same kitchen in a fit of rage about how unfair his life was.
Melanie never understood it. How could her parents just keep letting it happen, keep saying yes to him? She would sit through conversation after conversation with her parents as they explained to her the newest Grand Plan to get Duncan’s life back on track. To help him focus on his schoolwork and find some kind of career that he could be passionate about. Something that would finally have him drop “this partying phase” for good.
The first few times, she really believed them with all of her heart. That their plans to take him on college visits and have him meet with Dad’s colleagues would actually work. Would excite him enough to want to change. But after each brutal attempt, they always ended up at the same place—dinner plates or cell phones or Christmas ornaments smashing on a wall.
Yet her parents still had relentless blind faith in him—that maybe someday he really would turn a corner. Glancing at the colorless faces of both of her parents under the fluorescent lights of the hospital, she wondered if this was the moment where that faith would all come crashing down.
“Mr. and Mrs. Albertson?”
A man in a white coat was standing in front of them, his face emotionless. Like he’d experienced utter devastation many times before.
Mom jumped from her seat. “How is he? Can we see him?”
“Duncan is stable,” the doctor confirmed. “We had to pump his stomach when he arrived, then ran tests to make sure none of his organs were at risk of failing. The scans thankfully show no signs of brain or liver damage. We have him hooked up with oxygen and an IV now. He’s slowly recovering.”
“Jesus Christ,” Mom said, collapsing into the seat behind her. Dad wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rubbed fiercely.
“Is he awake?” Melanie asked.
“No, not yet,” the doctor said, his eyes softening when they landed on her. “But he will be.”
She thanked the doctor as she sat down next to Mom, who was now openly sobbing in the waiting room. She curled her legs up underneath her and leaned into her side, rubbing her arm, letting the tears fall down her own cheeks as well.
Melanie wasn’t sure how long she was curled up in that seat before falling asleep, but when her father woke her up and handed her a steaming cup of hospital coffee, the sun was starting to rise over the parking lot.
“Any news?” she asked, her voice crackly from sleep.
“He woke up twenty minutes ago,” he whispered. “Mom and I were just in there. She’s still with him.”
She sighed with relief, crisscrossing her legs as she took the coffee from him. “Thanks.”
He took a seat next to her, reaching around the arm rest to pat her knee.
Melanie blew on the cup, steam rolling off of it. “Dad, what happened?”
He let out a breath. “I really should wait for your mother.”
“Just tell me,” she pleaded softly. “Please.”
His sigh sounded almost frustrated, but that didn’t stop him from angling his face so he could look directly at her. “Instead of going to prom, your brother decided to have his own party. But of course, he had nowhere to host it.”
Melanie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Then where was it?”
“He—” Dad hesitated, like he didn’t even want to voice the horrible words. “He broke into the Holsteads’ house.”
Her eyes went wide as saucers.
“They’re not due to come back from Florida for another two weeks, so Duncan decided that it would be a good idea to use their place for a party. But his plan didn’t work out so well when a teammate found him on the floor with a blue face, covered in vomit.”
Melanie pressed a hand to her face. “This is so bad.”
“It gets worse.”
Melanie looked at her father in disbelief. “How can it get worse?”
“Principal Eddy called this morning to let us know that Duncan has been expelled and should not come to school on Monday,” Dad said, his face etched with so much pain. “Your mother and I will have to go in for a full meeting about it, but…yeah. There’s that.”
She wanted to scream. She felt like her own lion was building up in her chest, ready to attack everything in its wake. This couldn’t be happening. Even though she’d come to have frequent nightmares about Duncan and his tantrums, they were never creative enough to be this horrible.
Mom approached the two of them, her face splotchy and red, her hair an absolute mess. “Melanie, come.”
She’d followed dutifully behind her parents as they walked through the double doors and down a hall to Duncan’s room. Mom gestured for Melanie to go in without them, and as much as she’d wanted to protest, she obliged. Because she knew the last thing her parents needed was another teenager causing them heartache.
“My parents thought it would be a good idea to give him a change of scene,” Melanie said, her voice scraggly and raw. “But I don’t know, after tonight, seeing him like that…I just don’t feel like anything is ever going to change.”
Calvin was silent as he kissed her on the cheek, his lips lingering for a moment as her breathing slowed, squeezing his hand that was still tightly wrapped around her side.
“Thanks for trusting me with that,” he whispered.
She nodded, leaning into him, realizing how heavy all of it pressed on her. And how relieved she felt to finally let it out.
“Come on,” he said sweetly, opening up the door. He lifted her out of the car and set her down, reaching for her pinkie and leading her toward Scoops. She remained quiet as he unlocked the door with the set of keys clipped to his belt loop, pulling her through the back door. He lifted her once more as though she weighed nothing and placed her down on the desk, brushing his lips against hers. “Stay,” he whispered.
She smiled wearily as he left her, flicking on the lights out front. She heard him placing cups down on the counter as he slid open the ice cream freezer, the tinkering sound of a scooper against metal, and the whirr of the milkshake machine as it roared to life.
Calvin finally came back to The War Room, flicking the lights back off, holding two large paper cups with straws. She handed her one.
“What is it?” she asked softly.
He smirked. “Strawberry Oreo milkshake.”
She smiled. “That’s…really cute.”
Calvin leaned into her, curling an arm around her waist, and kissing her nose. “You’re really cute.”
She followed him as they left Scoops, her leg brushing against a large canvas bag on the floor when she slid into the passenger seat. She glanced down, noticing the bag was completely full of used, pocket-sized paperback novels.
“Did you just buy all of these?” Melanie asked curiously, picking up a copy of Catcher In The Rye as Calvin clicked his seatbelt into place.
He sighed heavily. “It’s been a long day.”
She felt overwhelmed with guilt, realizing her mess of an evening probably didn’t help with whatever Calvin was going through at the moment. Because he was going through something, if her instincts were anything to go by.
“Hey,” he said, sensing her shift in demeanor. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I won’t let go, remember?”
Tears welled up in her eyes as he pulled the truck around Scoops and drove it past Hillside Park. They drove in silence, Calvin brushing his thumb across the top of Melanie’s hand as he turned into a tiny beach community, parking in a dirt lot next to a worn-out wooden sign for Scallop Shell Beach.
Calvin reached underneath Melanie’s seat, his hand brushing against her thighs as he grabbed a neatly folded blanket. She followed him out of the truck and down toward a set of docks to the left of the beach where a few sailboats were tied up and bobbing in the shallow water. When they finally reached the end of the docks, he spread the blanket down on the wood and motioned for her to sit next to him.
The two of them sat there silently for a beat, legs dangling down over the water as they sipped on milkshakes and watched the lighthouse flashing in the distance.
“How’d you know where I was?” Melanie asked.
“That’s Carl’s place,” he said. “He throws a party every Saturday.”
“Every Saturday?”
He nodded. “Kind of a known thing in town.”
She took a tentative sip. “Have you ever gone to one?”
“Nope,” he said. “I don’t drink.”
Melanie exhaled, not realizing how relieved she would feel by that statement. “Why does it taste so bad?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never had it.”
“Oh,” she said, her chest falling slightly. She wasn’t sure why she felt like she failed in some way, but Calvin didn’t seem to notice as he played with the straw on his cup.
He sighed. “My parents…they’re addicts,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “My dad’s an alcoholic. I don’t have a single memory of him sober. He left my mom when I was five.”
His voice cracked slightly as he spoke. He placed his cup down and loosed a breath, submitting to whatever he was about to reveal to her. “When my Mom had me…her recovery was rough. They gave her these pills for the pain. And she…” He hesitated, looking up at the cloudy night sky. “She sort of didn’t stop taking them. Found ways to get more.”
She felt her throat go dry as he told his story, not sure what to even say to him. She wanted to be reassuring, but by the way he was sitting there, his body language militant and straightforward as he spoke, she could sense that he didn’t need her reassurance. That he seemed resigned to his reality after so many years.
“That’s what I was doing today,” he continued. “She has this…habit of just showing up when it’s convenient. Says it’s to see me but it’s really to try and squeeze money out of Gram.”
Melanie felt her heart breaking at the mere thought of it, the horrors he must have experienced, having a mother show up and be so close, yet still so far away.
“The books?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
His lips curled into a timid smile. “They help keep my mind off things. An escape when I need one.”
He finally sat up straight, looking Melanie in the eyes. “Some people might turn to substances for an escape, but I don’t even want to chance it. I’m afraid of what I’ll become, that I’ll be just like them. So, I read. A lot.”
She just moved in closer to him, hugging his waist. “Thanks for trusting me with that,” she repeated, not sure what else to say.
He stretched an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly, like a lifeline. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m no stranger to addiction, Mel. I get what you’re going through.”
She pulled away from him slightly, looking up at his solemn face. “I—I don’t think…”
But she did. Deep down in her gut, she knew.
Addict. Duncan was addicted to alcohol. If what happened to him that spring didn’t scare him enough to put down the bottle, then there clearly was a bigger problem. And even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself, Melanie knew it was true.
Her silence was telling as Calvin squeezed her tight, the two of them looking out across the bay, letting a comfortable lull settle between them. At some point, he shifted his body toward hers, cupping Melanie’s face with his hands as he kissed her deeply. His hands and his touch were so tender, she didn’t realize she was crying until he pulled away, kissing away the tears on her cheeks.
“I have a present for you,” he whispered.
She chuckled, her voice gurgling from all of the emotion built up in her throat. Calvin reached into his pocket and revealed a light blue elastic headband.
She laughed out loud, the sound of her voice rolling off the waves. “Oh my god,” she said as he stretched the headband around her neck, then shimmied it into place at the top of her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“The nickname doesn’t exactly work if you’re not wearing one anymore,” he bantered. “And I couldn’t help myself.”
She shook her head, a big goofy grin on her face. Sure, things felt like an absolute mess, and the truth she finally admitted to herself about Duncan scared her down to her core. But looking up at Calvin grinning back at her, his expression just as sweet and gooey as her own, part of her really did feel safe with him by her side. And relieved that she wasn’t so alone in it all.
Chapter Fifteen
Melanie brought her yellow sunshine mug full of coffee back up to bed the following morning, peeling open a paperback that she swiped from Calvin’s canvas bag—a copy of The Sun Also Rises that was missing the bottom corner of its cover. He said he got all of them from the 50-cent bin at the bookstore in town, full of paperbacks that had seen better days. It was how he was able to afford handfuls of them at a time.
He was silent for a beat. “Where are you?”
“We went to a party,” she croaked. “And they left, and I don’t have a ride.”
“Where are you?” he asked again, his voice coming out harsher this time. She could hear movement on his end, then the muffled sound of a car door slamming shut.
“I don’t know, down a dirt road at this house on the river,” she answered. “I-I have an address.”
“I know where it is,” he said, his truck roaring to life. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Melanie nodded to herself as the call ended. She wrapped her arms around her legs and pressed her face into her knees.
Soon enough, she heard the sounds of Calvin’s truck pulling up next to her. He parked the car, not bothering to turn it off as he jumped out, kneeling down in front of her. She couldn’t stop crying as he tucked her hair behind her ears, rubbing his thumbs against her cheek to catch her tears.
Before she could say anything, he was scooping her up into his arms, lifting her into the passenger seat of his truck, and gently closing the door. When he got to his side he pulled her close to him. She rested her head on his shoulder as he shifted gears.
Chapter Fourteen
Calvin pulled his truck behind Scoops and cut the ignition, the lights going dark. He slid Melanie into his lap and wrapped an arm tightly around her. He cupped her head as she continued to cry gloopy tears, his thumb brushing against her cheek.
“I...I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice scratchy.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he murmured, squeezing her side.
“You were clearly busy.”
“Trust me,” he said, nuzzling her neck with his nose before looking up into her eyes. “It’s really okay.”
She exhaled, her breath uneven. He just sat there, stroking her gently, not pushing or prodding her about why she was so upset. She thought about the way she curled her body next to his by the bonfire just days before, how safe she felt. Even if he wasn’t asking, the time felt right to finally tell him.
So she took a deep, sobering breath, and launched into her story.
When they’d gotten the call, Melanie’s face was planted in her textbook, drooling right onto the page about Kinetic Molecular Theory. She knew she didn’t need to cram like this—she could just take her AP Chem exam and probably be just fine. But with the end of her junior year at Garrison Prep coming to a close, Melanie knew these were the last grades Yale would see on her application. She couldn’t chance at failing, not with Yale on the line.
She’d jumped as her door opened abruptly.
“Damn,” she said, craning the side of her head to stretch out the kink in her neck. She looked over at her clock and saw that it was just past midnight.
Mom was at the door, looking frantic. “Get your shoes on.”
She frowned, rising up out of her seat, feeling the air shift around her. “What’s wrong?”
“Hospital,” she said, not bothering to explain more as she stepped out of the room. “We need to go. Now.”
Melanie felt dizzy for a moment as she listened to her mom’s footsteps charging down the stairs, their car’s ignition roaring to life outside. She snatched her sneakers and followed.
The hospital was only a thirteen minute drive, but to Melanie, it felt like a lifetime—even if Dad broke every traffic law possible to get there. She shoved her bare feet into her Converse, not bothering to tie them, her leg bouncing nervously as the three of them sat there in excruciating silence.
From pitch black darkness to blinding fluorescent lights, the three of them charged for the front desk.
“Duncan Chase Albertson,” Mom asked the receptionist, her voice shrill. “Which room is he in?”
“I’m sorry, you can’t see him yet. There are doctors with him running the necessary tests.”
“Let me go in there with him then,” Mom barked. “I’m his mother, he’s still a minor.”
“I will alert them that you are here,” the receptionist said calmly, clearly used to people coming into the hospital completely panicked. “They will come find you, have a seat.”
She leaned in looking like she was ready to scream, but Dad grabbed her, guiding her toward the waiting area.
“Thank you,” Melanie mumbled to the receptionist. She sat down next to Mom who was keeled over, face in her hands.
Melanie turned to her father. “What’s going on?”
“We got a call from the hospital, they said Duncan was brought in by an ambulance. Alcohol poisoning.”
Melanie looked down at the cartoon turtles on her ratty, worn pajama pants. Ambulance. Alcohol poisoning.
“Wasn’t he supposed to be at prom?”
Dad sighed. “I don’t think he ever meant to go to prom.”
Wow, she thought, letting his words sink in and realizing what fools they all were. It was a tale as old as time. Duncan thought of every lie in the book to get out of the house. No matter how grounded he was, no matter how much he let that lion roar and create a storm of fury at home, he always seemed to find a way. And her parents fell for it every single time.
This time, it was prom, obviously. Duncan had told them he was invited by one of the seniors on the girl’s lacrosse team. He was even extra convincing this time; having her come over for dinner last week, the five of them sitting at the table like a normal, polite, civil family. Even though just days earlier, he’d thrown three dinner plates across that very same kitchen in a fit of rage about how unfair his life was.
Melanie never understood it. How could her parents just keep letting it happen, keep saying yes to him? She would sit through conversation after conversation with her parents as they explained to her the newest Grand Plan to get Duncan’s life back on track. To help him focus on his schoolwork and find some kind of career that he could be passionate about. Something that would finally have him drop “this partying phase” for good.
The first few times, she really believed them with all of her heart. That their plans to take him on college visits and have him meet with Dad’s colleagues would actually work. Would excite him enough to want to change. But after each brutal attempt, they always ended up at the same place—dinner plates or cell phones or Christmas ornaments smashing on a wall.
Yet her parents still had relentless blind faith in him—that maybe someday he really would turn a corner. Glancing at the colorless faces of both of her parents under the fluorescent lights of the hospital, she wondered if this was the moment where that faith would all come crashing down.
“Mr. and Mrs. Albertson?”
A man in a white coat was standing in front of them, his face emotionless. Like he’d experienced utter devastation many times before.
Mom jumped from her seat. “How is he? Can we see him?”
“Duncan is stable,” the doctor confirmed. “We had to pump his stomach when he arrived, then ran tests to make sure none of his organs were at risk of failing. The scans thankfully show no signs of brain or liver damage. We have him hooked up with oxygen and an IV now. He’s slowly recovering.”
“Jesus Christ,” Mom said, collapsing into the seat behind her. Dad wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rubbed fiercely.
“Is he awake?” Melanie asked.
“No, not yet,” the doctor said, his eyes softening when they landed on her. “But he will be.”
She thanked the doctor as she sat down next to Mom, who was now openly sobbing in the waiting room. She curled her legs up underneath her and leaned into her side, rubbing her arm, letting the tears fall down her own cheeks as well.
Melanie wasn’t sure how long she was curled up in that seat before falling asleep, but when her father woke her up and handed her a steaming cup of hospital coffee, the sun was starting to rise over the parking lot.
“Any news?” she asked, her voice crackly from sleep.
“He woke up twenty minutes ago,” he whispered. “Mom and I were just in there. She’s still with him.”
She sighed with relief, crisscrossing her legs as she took the coffee from him. “Thanks.”
He took a seat next to her, reaching around the arm rest to pat her knee.
Melanie blew on the cup, steam rolling off of it. “Dad, what happened?”
He let out a breath. “I really should wait for your mother.”
“Just tell me,” she pleaded softly. “Please.”
His sigh sounded almost frustrated, but that didn’t stop him from angling his face so he could look directly at her. “Instead of going to prom, your brother decided to have his own party. But of course, he had nowhere to host it.”
Melanie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Then where was it?”
“He—” Dad hesitated, like he didn’t even want to voice the horrible words. “He broke into the Holsteads’ house.”
Her eyes went wide as saucers.
“They’re not due to come back from Florida for another two weeks, so Duncan decided that it would be a good idea to use their place for a party. But his plan didn’t work out so well when a teammate found him on the floor with a blue face, covered in vomit.”
Melanie pressed a hand to her face. “This is so bad.”
“It gets worse.”
Melanie looked at her father in disbelief. “How can it get worse?”
“Principal Eddy called this morning to let us know that Duncan has been expelled and should not come to school on Monday,” Dad said, his face etched with so much pain. “Your mother and I will have to go in for a full meeting about it, but…yeah. There’s that.”
She wanted to scream. She felt like her own lion was building up in her chest, ready to attack everything in its wake. This couldn’t be happening. Even though she’d come to have frequent nightmares about Duncan and his tantrums, they were never creative enough to be this horrible.
Mom approached the two of them, her face splotchy and red, her hair an absolute mess. “Melanie, come.”
She’d followed dutifully behind her parents as they walked through the double doors and down a hall to Duncan’s room. Mom gestured for Melanie to go in without them, and as much as she’d wanted to protest, she obliged. Because she knew the last thing her parents needed was another teenager causing them heartache.
“My parents thought it would be a good idea to give him a change of scene,” Melanie said, her voice scraggly and raw. “But I don’t know, after tonight, seeing him like that…I just don’t feel like anything is ever going to change.”
Calvin was silent as he kissed her on the cheek, his lips lingering for a moment as her breathing slowed, squeezing his hand that was still tightly wrapped around her side.
“Thanks for trusting me with that,” he whispered.
She nodded, leaning into him, realizing how heavy all of it pressed on her. And how relieved she felt to finally let it out.
“Come on,” he said sweetly, opening up the door. He lifted her out of the car and set her down, reaching for her pinkie and leading her toward Scoops. She remained quiet as he unlocked the door with the set of keys clipped to his belt loop, pulling her through the back door. He lifted her once more as though she weighed nothing and placed her down on the desk, brushing his lips against hers. “Stay,” he whispered.
She smiled wearily as he left her, flicking on the lights out front. She heard him placing cups down on the counter as he slid open the ice cream freezer, the tinkering sound of a scooper against metal, and the whirr of the milkshake machine as it roared to life.
Calvin finally came back to The War Room, flicking the lights back off, holding two large paper cups with straws. She handed her one.
“What is it?” she asked softly.
He smirked. “Strawberry Oreo milkshake.”
She smiled. “That’s…really cute.”
Calvin leaned into her, curling an arm around her waist, and kissing her nose. “You’re really cute.”
She followed him as they left Scoops, her leg brushing against a large canvas bag on the floor when she slid into the passenger seat. She glanced down, noticing the bag was completely full of used, pocket-sized paperback novels.
“Did you just buy all of these?” Melanie asked curiously, picking up a copy of Catcher In The Rye as Calvin clicked his seatbelt into place.
He sighed heavily. “It’s been a long day.”
She felt overwhelmed with guilt, realizing her mess of an evening probably didn’t help with whatever Calvin was going through at the moment. Because he was going through something, if her instincts were anything to go by.
“Hey,” he said, sensing her shift in demeanor. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I won’t let go, remember?”
Tears welled up in her eyes as he pulled the truck around Scoops and drove it past Hillside Park. They drove in silence, Calvin brushing his thumb across the top of Melanie’s hand as he turned into a tiny beach community, parking in a dirt lot next to a worn-out wooden sign for Scallop Shell Beach.
Calvin reached underneath Melanie’s seat, his hand brushing against her thighs as he grabbed a neatly folded blanket. She followed him out of the truck and down toward a set of docks to the left of the beach where a few sailboats were tied up and bobbing in the shallow water. When they finally reached the end of the docks, he spread the blanket down on the wood and motioned for her to sit next to him.
The two of them sat there silently for a beat, legs dangling down over the water as they sipped on milkshakes and watched the lighthouse flashing in the distance.
“How’d you know where I was?” Melanie asked.
“That’s Carl’s place,” he said. “He throws a party every Saturday.”
“Every Saturday?”
He nodded. “Kind of a known thing in town.”
She took a tentative sip. “Have you ever gone to one?”
“Nope,” he said. “I don’t drink.”
Melanie exhaled, not realizing how relieved she would feel by that statement. “Why does it taste so bad?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never had it.”
“Oh,” she said, her chest falling slightly. She wasn’t sure why she felt like she failed in some way, but Calvin didn’t seem to notice as he played with the straw on his cup.
He sighed. “My parents…they’re addicts,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “My dad’s an alcoholic. I don’t have a single memory of him sober. He left my mom when I was five.”
His voice cracked slightly as he spoke. He placed his cup down and loosed a breath, submitting to whatever he was about to reveal to her. “When my Mom had me…her recovery was rough. They gave her these pills for the pain. And she…” He hesitated, looking up at the cloudy night sky. “She sort of didn’t stop taking them. Found ways to get more.”
She felt her throat go dry as he told his story, not sure what to even say to him. She wanted to be reassuring, but by the way he was sitting there, his body language militant and straightforward as he spoke, she could sense that he didn’t need her reassurance. That he seemed resigned to his reality after so many years.
“That’s what I was doing today,” he continued. “She has this…habit of just showing up when it’s convenient. Says it’s to see me but it’s really to try and squeeze money out of Gram.”
Melanie felt her heart breaking at the mere thought of it, the horrors he must have experienced, having a mother show up and be so close, yet still so far away.
“The books?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
His lips curled into a timid smile. “They help keep my mind off things. An escape when I need one.”
He finally sat up straight, looking Melanie in the eyes. “Some people might turn to substances for an escape, but I don’t even want to chance it. I’m afraid of what I’ll become, that I’ll be just like them. So, I read. A lot.”
She just moved in closer to him, hugging his waist. “Thanks for trusting me with that,” she repeated, not sure what else to say.
He stretched an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly, like a lifeline. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m no stranger to addiction, Mel. I get what you’re going through.”
She pulled away from him slightly, looking up at his solemn face. “I—I don’t think…”
But she did. Deep down in her gut, she knew.
Addict. Duncan was addicted to alcohol. If what happened to him that spring didn’t scare him enough to put down the bottle, then there clearly was a bigger problem. And even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself, Melanie knew it was true.
Her silence was telling as Calvin squeezed her tight, the two of them looking out across the bay, letting a comfortable lull settle between them. At some point, he shifted his body toward hers, cupping Melanie’s face with his hands as he kissed her deeply. His hands and his touch were so tender, she didn’t realize she was crying until he pulled away, kissing away the tears on her cheeks.
“I have a present for you,” he whispered.
She chuckled, her voice gurgling from all of the emotion built up in her throat. Calvin reached into his pocket and revealed a light blue elastic headband.
She laughed out loud, the sound of her voice rolling off the waves. “Oh my god,” she said as he stretched the headband around her neck, then shimmied it into place at the top of her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“The nickname doesn’t exactly work if you’re not wearing one anymore,” he bantered. “And I couldn’t help myself.”
She shook her head, a big goofy grin on her face. Sure, things felt like an absolute mess, and the truth she finally admitted to herself about Duncan scared her down to her core. But looking up at Calvin grinning back at her, his expression just as sweet and gooey as her own, part of her really did feel safe with him by her side. And relieved that she wasn’t so alone in it all.
Chapter Fifteen
Melanie brought her yellow sunshine mug full of coffee back up to bed the following morning, peeling open a paperback that she swiped from Calvin’s canvas bag—a copy of The Sun Also Rises that was missing the bottom corner of its cover. He said he got all of them from the 50-cent bin at the bookstore in town, full of paperbacks that had seen better days. It was how he was able to afford handfuls of them at a time.
