I Will Wait

“Have you heard from Isadora lately?” my grandmother asked over dinner later that evening. I pushed my mashed potatoes and peas around my plate, avoiding her questioning eyes.

“Me? No. She's been busy with school and stuff,” I said. “Can you pass the salt, please?”

My grandmother frowns, passing the salt shaker over quietly.

“So, have you thought about what you're doing, Dolores?” I sipped my lemonade, glancing over at her, confused. “'Cause, you know, I want you to stay, but if you don't feel comfortable, then it's okay if you want to leave.” She sighs. “I just don't like seeing you so unhappy.”

“I'm fine.” I smiled a little, trying to laugh, but she didn't look convinced. “Really! I want to stay. I like it here.”

“Are you sure? Because if you don't, there won't be any hard feelings.” My grandmother smiled at me and squeezed my hand, sighing. “I just want you to be happy again.”

“I am,” I said with a nod, squeezing her hand back.

Or at least, I was trying to act like I was.



About a week or so after that, I woke up wanting to take a drive around the island, which was what I used to do all the time when I was here last time. Since I'm not in school or have a job, I think that it'd be a nice way to busy myself. There are only so many cat videos I can watch before I get tired of it. So I take a shower and get dressed - it's been raining all week and so all I've been wearing are sweaters and yoga pants and jeans if I leave the house (which was only once, to walk the dog in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep) - and then make my way downstairs.

My grandmother was setting some cookies on a tray with some milk and I frowned. Was she baby sitting or something?

“What's going on?” I asked, slipping into my coat hesitantly.

“Kate's boy's fixin' the car. It's been weird lately,” she said, shrugging. “It's better than taking it to a mechanic,” she said after a slight pause. “I mean, he's a nice kid and all, I don't know—” The back door opened and there he was, wet hair clinging to his forehead. His hands were dirty and he had a little bit of grease on his cheek and sweatshirt, but his jacket was clean, red and cream with blue stitching. I watched him wipe them on his brown corduroys, almost nervous. Why was I so nervous? I didn't know him and he didn't know me.

“You just needed an oil change,” he said, laughing. “I did it, it's fine. It should run fine now but you know, just be careful, since it's so old and everything.” I was trying to hide and melt into the wall, but my grandmother wasn't having it.

“Have you met Freddie, Dolores? He lives right down the street.” Freddie waved and smiled, laughing a little. I returned his smile awkwardly, playing with the sleeves of my jacket.

“Hi,” I said shyly.

“Hey, stranger. Long time no see.” He grinned, starting to eat some of the cookies on the platter.

“Do you know each other?” my grandmother asked, raising an eyebrow. I guess that it kind of was surprising, since I wasn't exactly the kind of girl who went out of her way to make friends, especially on the island.

People liked to talk too much.

“Yeah,” he said, wiping the back of his mouth. “Somethin' like that.” Freddie glanced at me and went back to eating, laughing.

“That's wonderful. Can you drive it around, see if it's okay?” I shot her a look, wide-eyed. “I'm gonna go play bridge with the girls later and I don't want it leavin' me in the middle of the road.”

“But what if it leaves me in the middle of the road?” I asked, frowning.

“It'll be okay! You've got Freddie with you.” She smiled sweetly, turning to Freddie. “Do you mind? I'll pay you extra.”

“You don't have to pay me! I don't mind at all, actually. Let's go,” Freddie said with a smile, danging the keys. I followed him to the car. He tossed the keys at me as we got into the car. “So you're staying with Zoe?”

“For now. She's my grandmother,” I explained quietly, shutting my door. I turned the key in the ignition, pressing the gas pedal repeatedly until the car roared to life. I smiled a little and backed out of the driveway, turning onto the empty road. I felt nervous and shaky, mouth dry. I knew that Freddie wasn't going to hurt me - most guys weren't Graham after all - but I still felt on edge at the thought of what he could do.

A beep jostled me out of my thoughts. I focused on the road, turning left onto another empty road.

“So, you're from LA?” I glanced at him, surprised. “I just - um, Beth asked Isadora who you were after you left the party the other night and she told us you were a friend that was visiting from Cali. Do you miss it?”

“I like the rain and the sea, so not really. It's a nice change.” I gulp and press my fingers into the leather steering wheel, eyeing the abandoned, lonely beach in the distance. I wonder idly if Zoe still has that boat and if she'll let me take it out when the sun finally comes out.

“Can I ask you something?” I nod and he sighs, leaning into his seat a little more. “Did you leave early the other night because of Beth?” Freddie actually looks concerned as he waits for my answer. “'Cause you really can't take her seriously, you know? She's, uh, she's a little rough around the edges.”

“You don't have to apologize for your girlfriend.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder, smiling a little. “I didn't leave because of her. I just - I was tired. I was only stopping by to say hi to Isadora.” I shrugged, biting my lip. “I'm really not the partying type.”

Freddie smiled, laughing a little as I pressed forward - the beach was so lovely this time of year, even if it was lonely, glancing out the window.

“Somehow I doubt that.” I bit the inside of my lip, sighing. If only he knew. I know he doesn't, so I try not to take his words to heart, but they still manage to dig under my skin anyway. “So how long are you staying?”

“I'm not sure yet. I was thinking about going to UMaine but I don't know yet.”

“I go there. I start up again in like, a week. It's not bad.” After a beat, he says, “I'm a physics major.” He shrugs, pushing the sleeves of his sweater up. I don't reply, even though my lips do quirk up in a small smile because I wanted to be a physics major too, before it happened. “So...” he laughed awkwardly. “You hungry? We can get lunch or brunch or whatever you guys call it in SoCal.”

“We just call it lunch?” I half-ask, glancing at him. “But, okay, sure. If your girlfriend doesn't mind.”

“Beth'll be okay. There's a pretty cool pizzeria a few blocks away from the ferry on the mainland, if you wanna check it out? You'll love it.”



Freddie makes me smile. And that's definitely not something I'm used to doing, not lately, anyway. He seems so free spirited and uninhibited, a happy guy with an easy grin stretching his cheeks wide no matter what I said. He doesn't seem deterred by my quiet, half-hearted responses, and keeps poking and prodding until he finally gets me out of my shell, a little. He drags me out with him onto the deck, salt and spray not bothering him at all as he laughs and talks about Parker and Isadora, his pet bunny, Periscope, and helps me get my mind off of my own troubles for a little while.

It's refreshing, to put it lightly.

However, once we reach the mainland, we're soaked, and the torrential rain doesn't help dry us off one little bit. He throws his jacket on me, flipping the cream hood over my head as he smiles and takes my hand, leading me down the busy street. The pizzeria reads Fratelli's in big red letters on a white awing. His eyes light up when we walk in. It smells like pizza, it's loud, warm, and there are people everywhere.

The booth is roomy, but I still feel a little awkward. He has a girlfriend, after all, who seems not to like me too much (or anyone), and I don't even know him (he's a stranger and I know better) but I'm here anyway. He's practically drooling over the menu while I simply stare down at mine, mind elsewhere. (Thousands and thousands of miles away.) I look up and around at my surroundings, eyeing the nearest exits like I've done every time I went out for the last few months. My fingers toy with the wrapped silverware at my right as I gnaw on the inside of my lip as I remind myself that this is a simple, normal situation and that I'm not in any danger of any kind. Freddie isn't capable of hurting me or anyone else. Not really.

I catch him staring at me. Not glancing, not casually looking, but staring. I meet his eyes as I sit up, reminding myself that I don't have to back down (not anymore). He smiles a little and when I ask him what he's staring at, he tells me he's staring at me because he likes to (so simple and easy) and we find ourselves in another moment of contemplative silence.

“What can I get you's to drink?” I look up at the girl, big, curly brown hair and heavily done up, chewing a pink piece of bubblegum obnoxiously. She glances at me before looking back at Freddie, raising an eyebrow. "Ain't you, uh..." Freddie looks at her and smiles as she snaps her fingers. "Bethy Fields' boyfriend, right?"

“Yeah,” he nods. “How are you, Carla? I didn't recognize you without the baby bump.”

“Cute,” she says sarcastically. “You and Bethy doin' okay?”

“We're great,” he says, but something about how he says it makes me wonder if he's lying or not. “I think I'm just gonna have some iced tea or something. What about you, Dolores?” I wonder how this girl knows Beth (but it seems like Beth knows everyone within five square miles of the island to be honest) and why she keeps looking at me that way.

“Um, do you have any natural fruit smoothies, or anything organic, maybe?” Carla looks down at me, raising a heavily penciled in eyebrow.

“You’re not from around these parts, huh?” I shake my head, sinking down in my seat a little. “We got cola, cherry cola, cranberry juice, lemon-lime, orange, pineapple, and I think we might just have a little bit of margarita mix from last Saturday night. None of that silly organic nonsense.”

“Oh, okay. I think I'll just have some iced tea too then, please.” She tittered, scribbling it down.

“I'll be back with your drinks, guys. Sit tight.” She walks away, hips swaying. I look back at my menu, appetite lost because of her odd attitude. Freddie leans in conspiratorially, a small, muted smile on his lips.

“Don't pay attention to her, okay? She's Beth's dorm mate and no one can really stand her.” He shrugs and goes back to his menu. “I think I'm going to have the deep fried meatball sub and a slice of pizza. What about you?”

“I don't know. I'm not really hungry.”

“Dolores, relax,” I laughed. “It's just me. Are you one of those girls who thinks she has to, like, eat salad in front of guys or something? 'Cause Beth does that. I don't think I've ever seen her actually eat a full meal.”

“No,” I say, laughing a little. “I just, I don't know... I don't know what to get.”

“Well, everything here is pretty good, and they have this fried ice cream thing that's pretty much the most amazing thing I've ever eaten in my whole life. Just, like, eat something, okay? Or I'm going to feel bad, 'cause I'm going to get all this food and you're just going to be sitting there with your tea and - ”

“Okay, okay,” I sigh. “I guess I'll get lasagna or something?”

“Sounds good.”

When Carla came back again, he ordered for the both of us and let her take our menus. She shot me a look over her shoulder as she walked away and I felt like sinking down further into my seat. What had I done wrong?

“So...” he trails off. “Guess your boyfriend must miss you a lot.” I almost choke on my drink, coughing as I wipe my mouth. He looks at me with concern clouding his eyes as I get myself back together.

“I'm, uh, I'm not the dating type, Freddie.”

“So you don't date?”

“No.” I smile at him before looking away, biting my lip. This isn't something I really like talking about.

“Never?”

“I just, um - I don't - I'm not ready right now. I just got out of a serious relationship and I'm still, um, figuring myself out and all. That's kind of why I came out here.” I hope he'll drop it after that, but he doesn't.

“Dolores?” I glance at him, not wanting to hear about Beth (because for some reason I think he's going to tell me about how perfect his relationship is with Beth and about how in love they are). “I think he missed out on a great girl. You're kind of a catch.”

“Only kind of?” I ask, chuckling.

“Only kind of.” Freddie smiles and I do too. His phone vibrates, like it's been doing every couple of minutes on the table top. He's ignored it, but now he looks at it and pales a little before sighing and rolling his eyes. I wonder what's going on. “This is ridiculous,” he mumbles.

“What's wrong?” I ask, knitting my eyebrows together. “Everything okay?” I hear the door chime, like it does whenever someone enters or exits, and sink into my seat even further. It's Beth, and she looks like she's out for blood as she stalks to our table, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Yeah,” he replies flatly, reaching for his drink. “Beth's just - ”

“I'm just what?” she sneers, standing in front of our table. "Huh?"

“Babe,” he says, standing up. I know it shouldn't bother me - he's her boyfriend, after all, and just some boy who has a disarming smile - but it still does. He's unhappy, but it's not any of my business, so I stare at my tea instead. “Seriously? This is getting out of hand,” he groans.

“Oh, is it?” She raises an eyebrow, annoyed. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting your little date?”

“It's not a date,” he points out. "We're just two friends getting lunch. Am I not allowed to get lunch with my friends now?"

"Friends?!" she exclaims, and some people start looking over at us. "She's only been here for a week, Freddie! Not even." She seethes as she looks down at me. "Jesus Christ. She's just a kid, you sick pervert."

“Bethanny.”

“What?” she hisses. “I can't believe you. You blew me off today because you had something to do or whatever, and then Carla calls me about how you've got some dumb lil' girl drooling after you here? Do you know how that looks? Do you even care? Do you live to embarrass me or something?”

“Don't talk about her like that,” Freddie says sternly, staring down at his girlfriend. “Maybe I just didn't want to deal with you today - ”

“Oh, you don't wanna deal with me now?” she asks, head moving from side to side to emphasize her point. “But you'll deal with some ugly little girl you don't even know? And you gave her your varsity jacket too?!”

“That's not what I meant. And it was raining, okay? I'm just being nice,” he says, sighing deeply. I grab my bag as I try to slide out of the booth. I slide two dollars underneath my half-empty glass, pulling some of my hair behind my ear. "You need to start trusting me."

"Trust you? How can I, when you go out behind my back with some bucktoothed California dreamer with all her good vibes and ironic sense of detachment and all her gluten-free nonsense?" She looks at me with disdain and groans. "Jesus, Freddie. You could've done a lot better. She's just some stupid little hipster. Look at her. What the hell?!"

"I think I should go," I say awkwardly, trying to sneak past her.

"That's the best idea you've ever had," she says, not looking at me. "Get going."

"Bye, Freddie."

"Dolores, wait!" But I'm already walking out the door, pulling the hood over my head as I try not to cry as the rain pounds on me relentlessly. I fail miserably.