Birthday Girl

My heart is pounding in my ears, and I can’t swallow. I peer around the corner at Pike, and he’s looking around like he’s not sure what to do, but he finally grabs the hose, still running water, and continues washing off his already clean arms and hands.

“Yeah, out here!” he calls, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

I hear the screen door creak open, and I slink back, making sure I’m out of sight.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I hear Cole ask.

I hurriedly re-hook my bra and pull on my damp T-shirt again.

“Just cleaning off,” Pike answers. “The river nearly flooded the harbor today. I tried to call you.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

There’s a moment of silence, and all I can hear is the running water spilling onto the now-flooded grass.

“Where’s Jordan?” Cole says.

“I don’t know…inside?”

My eyes fall and guilt hits me like a stab. He’d had to lie to him.

I mean, of course he would. I would’ve, as well. But the reality sinks in that I can leave Cole and walk away and life will go on. Pike can’t do that. That’s his son.

“You staying?” Pike asks him.

“Just picking up some stuff,” Cole explains, sounding solemn. “I don’t think she’ll want me around for a while yet. Thanks for letting her stay here.”

Pike’s voice is barely above a whisper. “It’s not a problem.”

There’s more silence, and then I hear the water shut off and some shuffling.

“She really took care of me when …” Cole trails off and then continues, “when I couldn’t stand to have anyone else around. I never wanted to hurt her.”

Needles prick my throat. Everything is so messed up, because I don’t know how angry I’m allowed to be.

He did it right under my nose. For weeks.

But in my heart, I wasn’t faithful to him, either.

Somewhere down deep, we always knew this was finite.

“You can come home,” his father says quietly, almost pleading.

But Cole doesn’t respond, and I wish I could see his face. Is he looking at his father? He can’t meet peoples’ eyes when he’s upset or sad.

“What are you doing?” Pike asks him, so much sadness in his voice. “What are you doing with yourself, huh?”

I hear a sigh and then Cole says, “I’ll talk to her. Eventually.”

And then the screen door falls shut, flapping against the frame, and I slowly peek around the corner, seeing Pike standing alone in the spot where I left him.

His brow is etched in pain, and he’s staring at the ground. His head turns slightly toward me, though.

“He doesn’t treat you right, and he should,” Pike says, his face ridden with guilt. “But this can’t happen, Jordan.”

I press my teeth together, tears lodged in the back of my throat.

I know.