Джерри Хилл - Gulf Breeze

She dropped Mrs. Davenport off at her bayside house, just across from Fulton beach. She thanked her again, a bit grudgingly, and headed back to the island. If there was one person in the birding community that she hated being indebted to, it was Mrs. Davenport. She would never live it down.

But she didn't make it to her house. She stopped at The Brown Pelican instead. Beer and pool. Sounded like just the thing she needed to unwind after spending the entire day with Mrs. Davenport.

"Pat."

"Hey, Shorty," she called. "Where's your partner?"

"Oh, his wife made him go to some birthday party," he said as she pulled up a barstool next to his.

"And you? Your wife run you out again?" She nodded at Sam as he placed a draft beer in front of her.

"No, she's in Corpus shopping. I'm a free man today."

"Hell, Shorty, you spend more time here than at home anyway."

"And where were you last night? We had a tournament. Me and Davey came in second."

"Yeah? I drove by but it was packed. I went to the Shack instead."

"You should have come in. Had some biker chicks in here. Looked kinda dangerous. Right up your alley."

Pat snorted. She wanted no part of the biker chicks. She'd tried that last year and had woken up in a hotel room with three naked women in bed with her, not recalling what had transpired. She did, however, remember the empty tequila bottle.

"No, no, Shorty. Did that last year. Had a hangover for three days."

Shorty laughed. "I remember. Four of them, right?"

"Three."

"Damn, woman, you have all the fun."

Pat let a ghost of a smile cross her face. Fun? Well, maybe at the time. She couldn't recall. It was after that episode that she started to realize how empty her life really was. Three women in bed with her and she didn't even know their names.

"Fun. Right. That's me," she said dryly.

"You want to get up a game?" he asked, motioning to the pool table.

"One game," she nodded. "I've got to go to Corpus. Then an early date over in Rockport tomorrow." An early date with old Dr. Cambridge. She could hardly wait.

Carly laughed when she bit down on the lime wedge, the tartness nearly bringing tears to her eyes.

"God, I can't remember the last time I've done tequila shots." She placed the lime wedge inside the empty shot glass and reached for her beer mug instead.

"Me, either. College?"

They were sitting on the floor of Carly's crowded apartment, catching up. Elsa Sanchez had gotten there early that morning and Carly had helped move her things to the apartment next door. Elsa was nowhere near settled in but they had called it a day and ordered pizza instead. Now, empty beer bottles and a half-eaten pizza lay scattered on the floor around them.

Maybe it was the tequila or maybe it was just being around Elsa after all this time, but the mention of college brought back a flood of unpleasant memories.

"Jesus, Carly, that still get to you?"

Carly nodded.

"I'm sorry, chica. But it's been nearly ten years."

"And it could be a hundred years and it would still get to me."

"But the last time we talked about it, in Austin, you said you didn't even think about it anymore."

"I don't think about it, Elsa, but that doesn't mean that it's not still there. It'll always be there."

Elsa shook her head sadly. After all these years, her friend still couldn't let go of the pain and betrayal.

"She's taken so much of your life, Carly. Why can't you just let it go?"

"I have let it go, I just haven't forgotten."

"And that's why there's been no one else?"

"There'll never be anyone else." Carly sighed. Yes, Carol had taken so much of her life, nearly all of it, she remembered. She looked up and met Elsa's eyes. "Did you know I almost killed myself?" she asked in a whisper.

"Over her?"

Carly nodded. "A few months after she left, I had a bottle…I hadn't been sleeping…I had a prescription…and I had all the pills in my hand, a bottle of whiskey and I just wanted it to be over," she said quietly.

"Mi Dios," Elsa whispered.

"She had already taken everything else. My money, my love, my dignity, not to mention a car, furniture and jewelry, why not my life?"

"What happened?"

Carly smiled. "My mother called."

Elsa squeezed her hand.

"Mom could always make me feel better, no matter what. That time was no different." Carly leaned back against the sofa and brushed her hair away from her face. "But I decided that night that I would never, ever give myself to someone again. I will never be used like that again. She took every last shred of dignity I had, Elsa. And she laughed about it. God, I remember how she laughed. I was so stupid. So naïve. No, I'll never do that again."

"You'll meet someone," Elsa insisted.

"No. I won't. I don't want to. My life is full. Especially now. I've got this wonderful project here, I'm close to my family again. They've included me in everything. I don't need anyone else in my life. I know that, I've accepted that. Any love I have to give, I give to my nieces and nephews. I'm happy with that."

"Carly, everyone needs someone."

"You're single," Carly stated.

"Yes, but only because I haven't found Mr. Right. It's not because I've decided there is no Mr. Right and I've quit looking. He's out there somewhere. I just know it."

"Well, I hope you find him. But for me, no. I just can't take that chance again. I lost too much the first time."

Elsa nodded and patted Carly's hand lightly.

"Enough of that. Let's have one more, then I'll flip you for the last piece of pizza," Elsa suggested.

"Oh, no. No more. I'll feel like hell the way it is. I'm meeting a photographer in the morning. Remember I was telling you about Rachel Yearwood, she's one of our major donors. Well, she said that her niece has volunteered to shoot the promotional material we need, as well as some photos for the Visitor's Center."

"Is she a real photographer or just your weekend variety?"

"I think she's real. Rachel said she does it for a living," Carly said as she began cleaning up their mess.

"That's wonderful, then. I think it's great that so many people are volunteering for this project."

"Yes. It is coming together, isn't it?"

"Do you need me to come with you?"

"No, no. You have plenty to do here. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll take you on the grand tour. Martin will have all the blueprints. They've run cables and all, but you'll need to take a look and see if there's anything we missed."

"Okay," Elsa said as she reached for the last piece of pizza. "You weren't going to eat this, were you?"

"My God, we ate a large pizza," Carly stated. Then she looked at the tequila bottle, nearly half gone. "You're a very bad influence, Elsa Sanchez."

"Be quiet," she said and shoved the rest of the pizza in Carly's mouth.

Pat stopped her Jeep at the gate, wondering if she was at the right place. There were no signs. She stepped out, pulling her cap more firmly on her head and walked to inspect the gate. The chain hung loosely, but it was unlocked.

She shrugged, then opened it. If she were at the wrong place, she would find out soon enough.

The dirt road wound through oak motes and open fields before leading her to an obvious construction site. Most of the activity was centered around a new building but several vehicles surrounded an old ranch house. After a moments hesitation, she drove to the ranch house, parking well out of the way.

She slipped one camera around her neck, then slung the camera bag over a shoulder. Her sunglasses shielded her from the bright sunshine and she looked around, looking for anyone that might be looking for her.

She finally found the one person that looked out of place. A small blonde woman wearing tan shorts and a white blouse tucked inside. She was talking to one of the construction workers. Perhaps she knew where Dr. Cambridge might be.