Jettie Woodruff - Underestimated

“Lauren!”

“Look, Riley. I don’t know what your story is, and I am not going to pry. If you ever need to talk I am here, and you never have to worry about me saying anything to anyone. Even if you never tell me your story, you still need a phone. It’s pretty clear that you are afraid of having a phone in your name, so I put it on my plan. I am not giving you anything. The phone was free to add a line, and you can pay me the monthly thirty five dollar payment. Okay?”

How could I argue with that? Why was she, so hell bent on being nice to me? Not that I was complaining, it just felt sort of superficial. No. Stop it, Morg, I mean, Ry, not everyone has a motive.

“Thank you, Lauren. Would you like to stay for supper?”

“No, but I want leftovers tomorrow. I kind of have a visitor that I need to get back to. I put my number in your phone already, in case you need anything. I’m leaving before you hug me again.”

I laughed and watched her walk back to her house. There was a guy building a fire off to the side of her house. I watched as he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. I wondered who he was and if he was her boyfriend.

I finally sat down to enjoy my spaghetti and the movie ‘Wanderlust with Jennifer Aniston.’ I couldn’t contain my nosiness and peeked through the crack in the curtains across the yard every now and then. I watched Lauren lead her friend into her house by the hand around eleven. She probably wouldn’t tell me about him unless I asked. I wouldn’t, I mean, it wasn’t like I was sharing any part of my life with her.

I slept like a baby in my new bed but woke a little too early, thanks to Lauren. I reached for my new cellphone on the nightstand and read the new text.

“You up?”

“I am now,” I answered.

“Make coffee, I’m on my way over.”

Okay. I said out loud, forcing myself out of bed. I didn’t even have time to completely finish peeing before she was knocking on my door.

“Good morning,” she said, way too happy. I glanced at the clock, and it was only eight. I wasn’t sure I liked her much anymore. She walked past me and started the coffee herself.

“I’m going to brush my teeth,” I said and left her alone. When I returned she was in my refrigerator, retrieving the leftover spaghetti.

“Want some?”

“No. Help yourself.” I sarcastically replied.

I sat on my new sofa, and she talked. Not about anything particular, she was just rattling on about this and that. I sleepily listened and wished I had slept another hour while she warmed up my leftovers.

“What are you doing today?” she asked, pushing my feet off the couch so that she could sit.

There is a chair right there.

“I want to walk down to the beach. Other than that, I guess I don’t have any. Why?”

“I bowl on Sunday afternoon. Wanna come?” she asked, sucking spaghetti through her lips.

“No. I don’t think so, but thanks.”

“Come on, Riley, it’s fun. I will introduce you to some of my friends.”

“I will, Lauren, just not today.”

“Okay.” she replied, and I was glad that she didn’t insist. I certainly wasn’t up for meeting new people yet.

I dressed in a pair of dark blue wind pants with two small white stripes, and a white cotton shirt, unbuttoned overtop of a red t-shirt. I was definitely going shopping for new clothes. Yes. I did once wear worse than what I had now, but I had gotten used to the designer clothing that was a vital part of my life for the past six years. Somewhere in-between this and that would be good, I decided as I tied the also used sneakers. I felt ashamed of myself. I shook my head in disbelief of wearing someone else’s shoes. There was a time in my life that my toes cramped, curled in the only shoes that I had to wear, probably two sizes too small.

I started down the path, holding onto the boulders as I made my way to the beach. This was surely not what I had pictured when I thought about living by the beach. From what I had seen so far, there was no beach. I climbed and maneuvered my way through the sarsens. Some of the spaces between the rocks were barely wide enough to squeeze through. It was probably a good thing that I was required to keep in shape. Finally, I was in the clearing. I moaned a disgusted breath when I saw that the large peak that I had been looking at from my deck, didn’t allow room for walking. The only way I would be able to walk north was sprint while the tide gave maybe a foot of wet sand. I would do it, just not that day. I chose instead to walk south. The beach was nice, and I decided that I had found my new favorite place when in a distance I witnessed a pirate ship. I knew that it wasn’t a real pirate ship, but with the many sails, it could have passed as one. The windjammer was moving away from the lighthouse on a peak in the distance.

I sat on a hard rock and pulled my knees to my chest. The air was crisp, but the sun warmed my face, and felt invigorating as I contemplated living there. I closed my eyes and breathed the sea air and the suns heat into my lungs. I was here. I did it, and I was never looking back. My meditation was interrupted when a friendly yellow lab barked and placed his paws on the rock that I was perched on.

“Hello there,” I said, petting him. I looked up to see where his owner was. There was an older gentleman walking toward me with a smile and a crooked stick in one hand.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he approached lifting his walking stick and poking it into the sand with every step. I noticed that he walked with a limp and assumed the stick was for support.

“Oh, it’s okay. I think he just wanted to say hi,” I said, sliding from the rock.

“I’m John Hunter. I live about a mile north of here,” he explained pointing to the peak with his stick.

“I’m Riley,” I offered, omitting my last name. I forgot it again, but just for a second. “I live right up there,” I pointed, kind of in the right direction. He didn’t need to know which house. You live on the other side of the peak?” I asked, wondering how he got around it.

“Yup, you have about three hours of sand before the ocean takes it back. This hour and two more,” he smiled.

“Thanks. I will remember that.” I bent to pick up a piece of sea glass that the sun had radiated on, catching my eye. I wiped it with my thumb, feeling the smooth surface.

“Purple,” John said, admiring the sea glass, “extremely uncommon. May I?” he asked, reaching for my sea glass find.

I handed it over to him and asked, “Why is purple uncommon?”

“Well, believe it or not, it started out as clear glass, used in a variety of applications from beverage bottles, food containers, decorative tableware, door knobs, and more. It could have even come from an old car windshield,” he explained and handed it back. “Wanna know something else?”

“Sure,” I replied.

“A purple sea glass find is considered to bring good luck. You should make a necklace or bracelet out of it,” he added.

Good luck? I could use that.

“Come on boy,” he called to his wandering dog. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Riley,” he nodded and went about his walk.

I spent two hours on the beach, looking for more sea glass. I didn’t find any more. My stomach began to remind me that it needed fed, and I walked back up the path. Going down was a lot easier than getting back up.

I didn’t see Lauren again that day. I was starting to get a little antsy about starting my new job the next day. I made myself hotdogs and french-fries for supper and felt a little sneaky about it. Drew would have never eaten a hotdog. I also watched reality T.V, something else that Drew refused to watch. I seriously needed to stop doing things just because Drew would hate them, but it did make me feel like I was twisting the knife just a little, which made me smile.