CHAPTER 4: Maria

CHAPTER 4

Maria

Where are we going again?” Maria asked from the driver’s seat. She’d picked up Serena half an hour earlier on South Front Street, which ran parallel to the Cape Fear River. Serena had been standing at an intersection in an area dotted with older office buildings and occasional clusters of shacks and boathouses at the river’s edge, oblivious to the construction workers across the street who were clearly ogling her. Slowly but surely, the area was being revitalized, like the rest of the waterfront along the river, but for now it was a work in progress. “And why did I have to pick you up?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “How did you get there?”

Maria brought her lips together. “Why am I getting the sense that there’s more to this than you’re saying?”

Maria knew that Serena had something up her sleeve but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “I hope you don’t expect me to tag along.”

Maria suddenly spotted another car vacating a spot and she turned, closing in on it. It was still a block or two from the restaurant, but she doubted she’d be able to get any closer. As she parked, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Serena was being way too coy, and Serena seemed to realize it.

Maria hesitated. “Fine, but just so we’re clear… if you’re planning to have some other guy join us at the table or something crazy like that, I’m not going to be happy.”

Maria debated before finally shutting off the engine. “Deal.”

Located next to one of the piers at Wrightsville Beach, Crabby Pete’s had been around for nearly forty years. Having barely survived one hurricane after the next, the structure might have been condemned had not numerous repairs of varying quality been undertaken over the years. The building sported peeling paint, a listing rooftop, and more than a few missing or broken shutters.

Despite its appearance, the restaurant was bustling and Maria and Serena had to squeeze through the crowd waiting for tables as they made for the stairs leading to the rooftop bar. Following her sister, Maria noticed the wooden tables, mismatched chairs, and personalized graffiti on the walls. From the ceiling hung items that the original Pete—who’d passed away years ago—had supposedly found in his nets while fishing: hubcaps and tennis shoes, deflated basketballs, a woman’s bra, toys, and scores of license plates from more than ten states.

They climbed the creaking steps to the rooftop. Emerging into the sun, Maria squinted under a cloudless sky. Unlike in the restaurant downstairs, the tables up here were occupied by adults unwinding with open bottles of beer or mixed drinks in front of them. Three waitresses in shorts and black tank tops scurried among the customers, efficiently picking up empties and dropping off drinks. Half the tables had tin pails filled with crab legs, and she watched as diners cracked the shells to get to the meat.

The bar was on the far side, partially covered with a rusting tin awning and fronted by ten stools. Maria followed Serena, winding between the tables in the fierce sun. It was cooler in the shade of the bar’s awning, though, and as they took their seats, she could feel the salt-tinged breeze lifting the long hair off her neck. Over Serena’s shoulder, Maria could see the waves breaking on the shore, blue changing suddenly to white and back again. Even though it was almost dinnertime, hundreds of beachgoers still frolicked in the water or sprawled on towels. The pier was jammed with people leaning over the railing with their fishing poles, waiting for something to strike. Serena took in the scene before swiveling back to Maria.

Maria hadn’t noticed the bartender and her eyes followed Serena’s. Dressed in faded jeans and a white collared shirt rolled to the elbows, he was finishing up an order for a waitress on the far side. Maria noticed automatically that he was exceptionally fit, with well-defined shoulders tapering down to narrow hips. He wore his hair very short, almost in a buzz cut that revealed an intricate tattooed ivy design wrapping around the back of his neck. Though his back was turned, Maria was impressed by how efficiently he moved as he readied the cocktails. She leaned toward her sister.

At Serena’s answer, the bartender turned. With his face partially shadowed, his features weren’t immediately visible, and it wasn’t until he stepped closer that Maria noticed the fading bruise on his cheek and all at once, it came together. The bartender froze for a second as well, no doubt mirroring her own thoughts: You’ve got to be kidding. In the awkward moment that followed, Maria had the impression that while he wasn’t thrilled by Serena’s surprise, he wasn’t necessarily upset by it, either. He resumed his approach until he was standing right in front of them. Leaning forward, he rested his hand on the bar, revealing the sculpted, colorfully tattooed muscle of his forearm.

Serena seemed content to act as though she hadn’t orchestrated the whole scenario. “I figured, why not? It’s a gorgeous day!” She spread her arms wide. “What a great place! You were right about the view from up here. It’s incredible. Has it been busy today?”

Colin’s gaze met hers, unreadable except for a trace of amusement somewhere in its depths. Up close, his appearance was nothing like it had been on the night he’d changed her tire; with his high cheekbones, blue-gray eyes, and long lashes, it was easy to imagine him picking up almost any woman he wanted. “Hi, Maria,” he said, extending his hand across the bar. “I’m Colin.”

She took his hand in hers, feeling a restrained strength in his grip. Letting go, she watched as his gaze flickered from her to Serena and back again.

Serena studied them both before finally propping her elbows on the bar. “How about a couple of piña coladas?”

Maria shook her head, amazed. “How did you…?”

Maria struggled to find words. “I think…” she sputtered, trying to sort through it all and experiencing the same sort of confusion she had on the night she’d first met Colin. “Can we please just have our drinks and go?”

Serena made a face. “But I’m hungry.”

Colin returned with their drinks and set the foamy glasses in front of them. “Anything else?” he asked.

Before Maria could decline, Serena raised her voice over the sound of the crowd. “Could we have a menu?”

Serena pointedly ignored Maria’s obvious discomfort all through dinner.

Still, Maria had to admit that it wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d feared, mostly because Colin was too busy to treat them as anything other than ordinary customers. He mentioned nothing about changing Maria’s tire or about his classes with Serena; because of the crowd at the bar, he had barely enough time to keep up with orders. He hustled continuously from one end of the bar to the other, taking orders and making drinks, closing out bills, and getting the waitresses what they needed. In the next hour, the rooftop only became more crowded, and despite the addition of a second bartender a few minutes after they’d arrived—a pretty blonde perhaps a year older than Serena—the wait for drinks continued to grow. If there was any indication that Colin knew Serena at all, it was that their dinner order was taken and delivered promptly, as was a second round of drinks. He cleared their plates moments after they finished and dropped off the bill, which he also closed out as soon as Maria laid down her credit card. Meanwhile, Serena kept up a steady flow of lively chatter.

There were even moments when Maria forgot about Colin entirely, though from time to time she found her gaze flickering his way. Serena hadn’t said anything more about him, but Maria thought he seemed too old to be a college student. She supposed she could ask Serena about that, but she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, since she’d dragged Maria here under false pretenses.

Despite herself, Maria had to admit that Serena was right about the fact that Colin—when he wasn’t bruised, bloody, and soaking wet on a deserted stretch of road—was seriously good-looking. Oddly clean-cut despite his tattoos and powerful build, he had a quick, almost wry grin, and as far as she could tell, all three of the waitresses had crushes on him. So did the group of women at the far end of the bar who’d shown up twenty minutes ago. She could tell by the way they smiled at him as he prepared their drinks and watched him after he’d turned away. Same thing with the other bartender; though she was as busy as Colin, she seemed to become noticeably distracted whenever he reached past her for a glass or a bottle of liquor.

Good-looking bartenders were common enough to be a cliché, as was the practice of flirting with them, but Colin’s reaction to the subtle and not-so-subtle signals surprised her. Though he was pleasant with everyone, he otherwise seemed oblivious to his admirers’ attention. Or, at least, he was acting oblivious. As she was trying to decode his motive, another, older male bartender moved behind the bar, partially blocking her view of Colin. Beside her, Serena had her phone out and was texting.

Serena drained her drink. “I figured I might as well mention it, since you’ve been sneaking peeks at him all night.”

Maria reached for her own drink, feeling slightly buoyant from the alcohol. “Okay,” she conceded, “maybe I did check him out once or twice. But twenty-eight is a little too old to still be in college, don’t you think?”

Maria opened her mouth to respond but closed it again, knowing that saying anything more would only encourage her sister further. In the silence, Serena’s phone pinged and she peered down at it.

Maria looked up; sure enough, Colin was gone.

Maria reached for her purse. “I thought you said you didn’t want me to meet Steve.”

Maria was silent. Serena, like their parents, knew how hard the last couple of years had been.

Again Maria said nothing, but as she followed Serena to the stairs, she found herself thinking that her sister was, as usual, right.

Steve was cute in a preppy kind of way, right down to the plaid shorts and light blue polo that matched his Topsiders. He came across as nice enough, though it was apparent within minutes that he was a lot more interested in Serena than she was in him, since she spent most of her time talking to Melissa. Though Maria chided herself for it as she started in the direction of her car, she found herself envying the ease with which her younger sister seemed to navigate every facet of her life.

Then again, how hard was life for a twenty-one-year-old student? College was a bubble that kept the rest of the world at bay. There was an abundance of free time, friends who lived either with you or right next door, and an overwhelming sense of optimism about the future, even if you had no idea as to the specifics of what that might mean. In college, everyone accepted the fact that their lives would turn out exactly as planned, buoying them from one good memory to the next in a cascade of carefree three-day weekends.

She hesitated, changing her mind. Well, for people like Serena, anyway. Maria’s own experience had been different because she’d taken her education more seriously than most—she could remember being way too stressed way too often. In retrospect, she realized that she’d probably spent too much time studying and worrying about exams. She recalled working on papers until the wee hours of the morning, editing them over and over until every word was just right. At the time, it seemed like the most important thing in the world, but in the last few years, she’d begun to wonder why she’d taken it all so seriously. Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Michael Dell, and Mark Zuckerberg had dropped out of college, and they’d done okay, right? They intuitively understood that the world didn’t care about grades or even graduating, at least not in the long run, especially when compared to traits like creativity or persistence. Sure, her grades had likely helped her land her very first job with the district attorney’s office, but had anyone cared since then? When she’d been hired at the firm, they’d been interested only in her work experience and seemed to regard the first twenty-four years of her life as inconsequential. These days, Barney’s conversations were centered on her current work product, and Ken’s interests were of a different nature entirely.

Thinking back, she regretted not taking a year off after graduation and going backpacking through Europe, or volunteering for Teach for America or whatever. Frankly, it didn’t matter what she did as long as it was something interesting, but she’d been in such a headlong rush to grow up and become an adult that those thoughts had never even entered her mind. She didn’t always feel like she was really living, though, and she sometimes found herself regretting the choices she’d made. And on that subject, wasn’t she too young to have these kinds of regrets, anyway? Weren’t those supposed to start in middle age? Lord knows, her mom and dad didn’t seem to have any and they were middle-aged. Meanwhile, Serena acted as though she didn’t have a care in the world, either—so where had Maria gone wrong?

She blamed her melancholy thoughts on the piña coladas, whose effects she was still feeling a bit. Deciding to give herself a little more time before she got behind the wheel, she squinted at the pier and decided, Why not? Dusk was coming on, but she still had another hour or so before it was dark.

Turning around, she started that way, watching the chaotic activity as families began to depart the beach en masse. Sunburned kids, overtired and whining, trailed their equally sunburned and overtired parents, who were hauling boogie boards, coolers, umbrellas, and towels.

At the beach, she stopped to slip off her sandals, wondering if she’d recognize anyone from high school or whether they’d recognize her, but she spotted no one familiar. She trudged through the sand and when she reached the pier, she made her way up the steps just as the sun was beginning its slow descent. Through the slats beneath her feet, she watched as sand gave way to shallow water, then finally to waves cascading toward the shore. In either direction, surfers were still catching swells. Admiring their graceful movements, she passed people fishing; men and women, young and old, all of them lost in their own worlds. She remembered that when she had been a teenager, a boy she’d liked had once talked her into giving it a try. It was a blazing-hot day and casting was more difficult than she thought it would be. They eventually left the pier empty-handed, and she later realized that she liked the boy a lot more than she’d ever like fishing.

The crowds grew sparser the farther out she got, and by the time she reached the end of the pier she noticed only a lone fisherman, his back toward her. He was dressed in faded jeans and a baseball cap, but from her cursory glance she could tell that he was put together just right. Shrugging off the thought, she turned her gaze to the horizon, catching sight of the moon rising from the sea. In the distance, a catamaran glided over the surface, and she idly wondered whether Serena might be persuaded to join her on a sailing trip one weekend.

When she turned, it took a few seconds for her to register that it was Colin. The fisherman in the baseball cap, she suddenly realized. She felt heat rise in her cheeks. Had Serena set this up, too? No, coming out here had been her idea. Hadn’t it? Serena hadn’t talked about Colin or the pier… which meant this had to be a coincidence, like the night he’d pulled over and changed her tire. What were the odds of meeting him here? Too low to be plausible, and yet… he was here and she was here, and she could tell he was waiting for an answer.

He seemed to weigh her answer. “And?”

Flustered, she had to process his question before she could answer. “It’s beautiful,” she finally said.

Somehow, hearing him say her name out here felt more intimate than it had in the bar, and she absently watched as he began reeling in his line. He cast again, the line unspooling into the distance, and she wondered whether she should stay or go. He seemed content to give her space, just as he’d done the night they’d first met. Which reminded her…

He turned his head. “Yes?”

Maria could feel his gaze lingering on her before he finally turned away. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond, and for a while, the two of them simply stood there in silence. Colin seemed perfectly relaxed and self-contained, while Maria tried to immerse herself in the view once again. A shrimp boat trawled the darker waters in the distance, and over her shoulder, the lights flickered on at Crabby Pete’s. The faint strains of classic rock began to drift out of one of the restaurants, signaling the beginning of the evening festivities.

She studied Colin from the corner of her eye, trying to figure out why he seemed so different than other men. In her experience, men her age generally fell into one of five categories: arrogant types who believed themselves to be one of God’s favorite creations; friendly guys who might become keepers except for the fact that they often weren’t interested in relationships; shy guys who could barely speak; men who weren’t interested in her at all for one reason or another; and really good ones—genuine keepers—who were almost always taken, in her experience. Colin didn’t seem like the first kind, and based on what she’d observed at the bar, he didn’t seem like the second or third kinds, either. Which meant, obviously, that he was either the fourth or fifth kind. He wasn’t interested in her… and yet, deep down, she suspected that she might be wrong about that, though she wasn’t sure why. Which left the possibility that he was in the fifth category, but unfortunately, she’d pretty much ended the conversation earlier, so maybe his silence was a reaction to her perceived standoffishness.

After he’d changed her tire. After his friendly efficiency at the bar. After Serena had assured her that he was a nice guy. And after he’d initiated a conversation just a few moments earlier. She felt her shoulders slump. No wonder she spent her weekends alone.

He was still leaning over the railing, and when he turned after a moment, she detected the same trace of amusement she’d noticed in the bar. “Yes?”

He reached up, tilting his hat back slightly. “I guess I don’t, really. And I’m not very good at it, either. I hardly ever catch anything.”

She registered the soft precision of his speech. “Then why do you do it?”

She flushed, feeling too tongue-tied to answer. Despite herself, she couldn’t help agreeing with Serena: Colin was seriously… hot. She shook the thought away, not wanting to go there.

His suggestion caught her off guard. “Uh, yeah… sure. But if you’re not very good at fishing, I can’t promise this spot will be any better.”

Unlike her, he seemed perfectly relaxed, and she watched as he reeled in his line and recast in a new location. He leaned forward, jerking the pole slightly.

Maria grinned, thinking that sounded exactly like Serena. “She’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.”

His answer suggested he didn’t really want to discuss it further. “Serena said that you and she are in class together?” she asked, venturing on to safer ground.

He nodded. “She caught up with me on the way to the library. I guess you must have told her how I looked that night and she put it all together. Which wasn’t too hard, what with the hurt face and all.”

She nodded. “Thank you again.”

She wrinkled her forehead. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Yeah, she thought, I know. “And you go to college parties?”

He shrugged. “Depends on the club and who I’m with. Usually, no. Every now and then, yes.”

She puzzled over his answer before finally turning toward the horizon again. The moon glowed against the backdrop of a sky that was beginning its slow progression from gray to black. Colin followed her gaze, neither of them speaking for a moment.

He lifted the tip of his reel, jerking the line, before answering. “Fights,” he said.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “You used to fight in bars?”

She blinked. “You were in over a hundred bar fights?”

She wasn’t sure what to say. “Why are you telling me this?”

She inhaled, thrown by the sudden change in subject. “Did Serena tell you that?”

She squinted at him. “Is MMA the one in the cage? Where anything goes?”