Empty Chairs and Empty Promises

Chapter Thirteen

My hand trembles as I twist the doorknob. Anxiety about my children meeting this special man has the palms of my hands covered with sweat. My lips stretch tightly with my smile — a smile I'm certain is too nervous, too crazy in appearance. As the door swings open, his eyes lock on mine and the reassurance I glimpse within them washes over me in relaxing waves. The knots in my stomach fade and my mouth slackens into a slight grin. He knows without me saying a word what I'm going through.

"Hi." The word emerges in a soft, breathy sigh.

Griff moves forward grasping my free hand and pulls me close to him.

"Hey, Libs. Don't worry about a thing," he says with a smile as his thumb brushes my cheek and moves past me into my condo. With confident strides, he extends his hand to Nate. The two of them shake and introduce themselves.

I'm so engrossed in the scene before me I don't realize I'm holding onto the open door until a prancing Mia barks at me after dropping her leash at my feet. While I attach it to her collar, Nate and Griff head back downstairs to retrieve the kennel and Carrie's bags. I follow with Mia tugging me forward as we progress downstairs.

I move through the sand towards the ocean keeping pace with my furry companion. I let Mia off of the leash knowing she won't stray very far as I lower myself down into a sitting position with my knees bent and my arms around them pulling them into my chest. The wind caresses my face pushing my hair back over my shoulders.

The water surges with a roaring announcement toward the shore over and over; and then, it recedes stealing back away from the shore without the drama of its beginning. Mia chases each wave running back and forth with it barking with excitement at her new game.

I feel his presence before I see him approach. He's removed his shoes and his toes sink into the sand beside me. I look up squinting my eyes against the sun and gesture for him to sit beside me.

Griff grunts as he lowers himself. We sit without speaking for a minute, maybe more. He breaks the silence.

"Was it a rough reunion?"

I shrug. "I wasn't expecting Carrie to be with Nate, but it's alright. They're only here for a few days and not nearly long enough for years of issues to be resolved." My words die off and I shake my head.

"Give them time, Libby. They're young and losing their dad was probably the worst thing that they've had to go through. Now, I think they worry about losing you."

I lay my forehead on my knees and I feel his warm fingers on the back of my neck. My body hums with the need for human touch, his touch. "When will I see you again?" Will he sense my desperation?

"I don't know. I've got to finish this job first," Griff says in a quiet tone. "I really need to get back to my place."

I twist my face towards him. "Okay. I understand. You have a guest as do I." I whistle for Mia who runs towards us.

"This is a job, Libby. Nothing more. I can't tell you anything else right now, but I will fill you in." Griff brushes the sand off as he stands, pats Mia's head and trudges across the sand.

What sort of job requires him to spend time with a beautiful pregnant woman in his home? Why can't he tell me something about what he does? I'm torn with wanting to believe him but fear that all I'm doing is putting my head in the sand and ignoring what is right in front of me. Josh fooled me for years and if I'm honest with myself I knew things between us had changed over time.

Puerto Rico is about finding me and putting myself first. I won't lose sight of the promises I made to Libby Crenshaw. I matter and my heart matters and I won't throw it away in a desperate attempt to relive a long-ago youth.

Getting up off of the sandy beach, my feet carry me forward with a purpose. My children wait for me. I want to show them why I fell in love with Puerto Rico.

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After some persuasion, I convince Carrie to venture out and explore with Nate and I. Our first destination is the Punta Borinquen Lighthouse. The lighthouse was built in the late 1880s. In 1918, a 7.5 magnitude earthquake struck the area leaving the lighthouse in ruins. Another lighthouse was built in a different location and the Punta Borinquen Lighthouse was never repaired and no efforts have been made to preserve it.

I pull my car off of the paved road taking a packed dirt road towards the ruins. With each step, we take the sound of the ocean strengthens. I pause and gaze at the reddish-orange brick facade of the old structure. The gaps where windows were located frame the soothing blue of the ocean.

I raise my camera clicking away at the beautiful contrast of the rough irregularity of the wall against the fluidity of the sea. Nate and Carrie enter through what was the entrance. Only two walls remain. A rounded area in the center of the building delineates the location of the lighthouse tower.

I'd seen an old photo of the lighthouse taken after it had been built. It was a single-story classical design with Moorish influence and its lighthouse had towered over the structure.

Carrie runs her fingers over the bricks and gazes out over the rocky shore towards the ocean. Cooling breezes blow her light-brown hair around her face. Except for the color of her eyes, she is so like Joshua as is Nate. They are a constant reminder of my deceased husband from their mannerisms to their good looks.

I search for myself in their appearances and find very little except for the hazel of my daughter's eyes. I focus instead on capturing each of them at this moment through the lens of my camera.

I'd forgotten how much they both appreciated the history of a place. It was part of the reason they'd protested when I had told them that I'd sold the house. It was over a century old and there was something comfortable about making a home where so many other families had laughed, cried and loved.

I link my arm through Carrie's and receive an unguarded smile. Progress. Slow, but still progress.

"The water is so beautiful and clear near the shore. I wish they still operated a base here," Nate says as he gazes out over the Atlantic. "I guess the island suffered when the military bases were closed. A master chief in our command had been stationed here when he met his wife."

"Well, you are welcome to vacation here as long as I live here."

"Are you already thinking of leaving?" Carrie stiffens beside me. Damn, that was short-lived.

"No, I'm content for now, but I want options for my life. Situations change and I may as well." I pat her arm and suggest we head back to my place for the evening and dinner.

As I follow my daughter and son to the car, I realize one pleasant afternoon will not eradicate the issue of taking control of my life. For too many years, my late husband and my children came first; and despite my rebellious actions, my kids' opinions influence me.

The challenge will be having my opinions matter to them as much. It would take time.