Well, I’d been burned by that before, and I wasn’t going to allow it again. So I walked away. And masturbated all night long.
And today Iwasn’tgoing to bring him up.
I was really quite proud of my self-control.
All morning, I helped Kesha and Milo move stuff from her car into her new home. Well, to be honest, Korrad did all the heavy lifting in like three trips total, and I admired the way he kept his expression carefully blank—and didn’t ask questions—about why they had so few belongings.
It was my job to keep Milo and Jay distracted as Kesha did her best to set up her stuff. I could tell she was flustered with this new beginning, but that’s why I was there; to be a fifth wheel and keep conversation moving, because the whole situation was awkward as hell.
By noon, Korrad offered to take us out for lunch, and before Kesha and I could do more than glance at each other—neither of us had money to spare—Milo had begun to bounce around screaming,“Yes! Chicken strips! Yes!”
And seeing the way Korrad had grinned and agreed? Well, I knew Kesha had made the right choice, even if she didn’t see it yet.
So we ate at Debbie’s Diner—again,adorable. Korrad picked up the check with a stern, “You’re my family now,” which caused Kesha to blush and pretend to fuss over Milo’s table manners.
Afterward, Jay asked if he could show Milo the school, which was a great idea, and that led to a tour of his favorite park and then the nature reserve. After that, Korrad drove us around, giving us a tour of the island, and we finished out the afternoon with a stroll down Main Street, meeting all the proprietors and letting the boys try samples.
The bubbly woman behind the counter at the bakery, Meli, snuck them a bearclaw pastry, which reminded me of the way Brakkor had threatened to slice through my panties with his fierce claws. The boys ate it while they peered in the big window of the tattoo parlor, which reminded me of the ink swirling up Brakkor’s arm and neck. The bookstore, hardware store, and surf shop allhad something which reminded me of him, until I decided I was being stupid and put him out of my mind.
Or at least tried to.
I tried to give Kesha time alone with her new husband, and it was easy to allow myself to be distracted. Eastshore Isle was just all-around distractable, you know? People were friendly and outgoing and seemed to honestly care about each other.
There were so many orcs around too, and they weren’t too much of a hardship to look at. Yeah, most of them were married with their human ladies at their side. We even saw a few babies that were clearly half-human, half-orc!
I hadn’t realized that was even possible, but Korrad explained it only happened when the couple was Mated. Whatever that meant.
Korrad introduced us to a male named Aswan, who had his arm around—shoot, what was her name?Hannah! They were keeping an eye on their three kids, the oldest of whom was Jay’s age. The three boys promptly began comparing stories about teachers and the school, and I could see Kesha relax as she realized her son was going to fit in here.
At Milo’s request, she made us all pizza for dinner. I was really going to miss her and promised myself I’d save up as much PTO as possible to come visit her before the end of the year. Not like I was interested in seeing anyone else on the island—no, sirree, just Kesha and Milo…but everyone I’d met that day had been kind and welcoming, the type of people I could be happy living amongst.
I was falling asleep in that big bed Saturday night when I realized I was sad; not just because I was leaving her, but because I was leaving Eastshore.
You didn’t see him.
No. I hadn’t seen Brakkor again, and I told myself that was a good thing.
I fell asleep believing it.
The next morning was check-out morning, which is always depressing. Mrs. Edith chatted all the way through breakfast: a homemade waffle piled high with berries and whipped cream, and a huge stack of bacon on the side.
You ever meet someone who makes you feel like family? That’s how Mrs. Edith treated everyone, and I was predictably sad to leave her. I had a perfectly fine relationship with my mother, but we weren’t particularly close or anything—most of our conversations involved her or Dad bringing up my student debt and how I wasn’t using either of my degrees. But Mrs. Edith was like a mom from a Hallmark movie, and when she hugged me good-bye, I felt like I was leaving home.
Great, now I was going to have to not only save up my PTO, but my money as well, to be able to afford to stay here when I came back for a visit.
So I was a little bummed when I dragged my suitcase and backpack down the front steps of The Rose Inn and began to load them into my crappy old sedan. This thing had been with me for at least a decade, and I’d bought it used then. Chad had given me so much shit about mypiece of trash, but not all of us had trust funds.
I was slamming the trunk when I decided I needed a pep talk.
You are checking out of the B&B, not leaving Eastshore yet. You still have most of the day to explore.
This was very true. I’d had a huge breakfast, so I didn’t need to worry about lunch, and the The Rose Inn was located in the historic district, so I could leave my sedan here and walk.
I only got a thousand steps that first hour, since I kept stopping to learn stuff—study the architecture, or look up something on my phone, or ask a question. One of the owners was even there, and gave me a personal tour!
Patti Larue ran a historic venue appropriately namedPatti’s, which was a combination museum and tea shop. This morning, however, she was perfectly delighted to welcome me into the large main room to walk around the exhibits of Eastshore history.
The collection of black and white photos was amazing, and I think she was just thrilled to find someone who could exclaim in delight over the records of the 1956 corn-husking competition. The pair of us spent a while standing near the quilt display as she talked about her mother, and then I discovered the photos of Eastshore Lighthouse.
