Her Best Man

Chapter 23: Toxic Feelings

Chapter 23: Toxic Feelings

*Thought I'd start off this chapter with a Tarzan quote for some inspiration...

"The power to be strong, and the wisdom to be wise...all these things will come to you in time." -Phil Collins

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The following hour was an uneasy attempt of receiving some needed shut eye. I kept tossing and turning, and throwing off my blankets, only to cover up again. I knew the reason for my unrest, as ridiculous as it sounded. The image of Cody and Drew would not escape my warped mind. Something in Cody's eyes made it so hard for me to hate his guts. But I had to. There was no other way.

As I stared up at the dark ceiling, I thought back to the sea turtles and the ocean. As much as I wanted to stay here, I knew I would eventually have to go back to my unattended apartment and wallow there. But what would I do? I quit my job, so I would have to find work. But where? I was starting to regret my decision of quitting, thinking of all the hard work I put in to attending Columbia University and going through the grueling interview process for a spot at Chicago Weekly. I knew those days were now over, and I couldn't bare the thought of working for that devil of a woman as a boss any longer.

For the next few days, I relaxed and helped my mom around the house. The weather was perfect, with constant sun, and I spent hours upon hours soaking in some well needed vitamin D. The small stretch of beach they owned became my own private oasis. I enjoyed closing my eyes, and feeling the sun's omniscient warmth upon my exposed skin. Every night, I video chatted with Drew, talking about random matters. That was the best part of my day.

I also learned to windsurf, as Nick was an avid windsurfer himself. It look me several hours before I even came close to balancing on the waves, but once I did, I made an oath to never do it again, as to not mess up the good juju I had going on.

I also tried all humanly possible combinations of smoothies that existed. My mom acquired many hobbies as a result of being alone a lot, and smoothie making was one of them. Most of them were good, but the coconut peach combination required me to take a trip to the "bathroom" where I discretely disposed of it down the toilet.

For the first time in what seemed liked a millennium, I felt relaxed. Like all the stresses and toxic feelings that were bottled up inside had washed away with the waves. But somehow, whether it was watching a romantic comedy with my mom, or seeing a couple holding hands on the side of the road, those toxic feelings would find a way of creeping back.

It was the sixth night of my stay, and mom and I sat out on the dock around sunset, sitting in the Adirondack chairs and drinking wine. There was a slight breeze in the air, and we set up a radio that played Nick's favorite band.

"With Nick working all the time, doesn't that bother you?" I asked, taking a sip of wine. She never told me much about the reasons for her first divorce, but I knew the part of him never being there as a factor why.

She took a long gulp of wine, before placing it on the arm rest. Her eyes scanned over the spanning ocean, gathering thoughts.

"When I was with your father." She started, and I knew she was talking about my biological one, Frank. He was my father. Nick was my dad. Two similar words took on two very different meanings. Even though they weren't married, it seemed only fitting to refer to Nick as dad. "He would work the nine to five, Mondays through Fridays. This gave him time to be with us during the evenings, on the weekends. Now, I'd understand if he needed some alone time, but he chose to spend that time gambling and drinking. And talking to his buddies about what a horrible wife he had." Her innocent, aged eyes were full of something I rarely saw in her. Hurt.