BEFORE THE WORLD AWOKE, I bundled myself in a blanket and sat at the end of my dock with my steaming mug, my toes barely grazing the water's surface as I finished my speech. It wasn't my best work, but I only had a little to give to the Clifton people.
Weston's house lights were off.
Drumming my pen against my lips, I pulled out my phone to look at our texts, and my heart dropped. The message I drafted yesterday before Zoe caught me smiling at my phone sat unsent. I hadn't replied to his message asking if I was okay after the kiss.
"Fuck me," I seethed, my thumbs racing over the keyboard.
Hey, I'm so sorry for not replying yesterday. I forgot to hit send, I swear. You didn't overstep, though. And RIP to your boat. We should host a charity event for lost vessels, keep the money, and purchase a yacht.
I didn't hesitate before pressing send and glancing at his house as if I could see his phone illuminate from inside his bedroom. Minutes passed, and nothing changed, and the ellipses never appeared to let me know he was typing.
The pads of my fingers dug into my eyes, and I laid back on the weathered wood.
He was probably still sleeping.
I was so caught up with Zoe yesterday that I forgot to check my texts. We spent the rest of the day inland, walking through the waterfront shops, laughing, eating good food, and telling stories about growing up. Weston was brought up only once, even though I wanted to ask about him. Although we had a wonderful time, it only made me miss Kate even more so that when Zoe dropped me off, I called my best friend, and we spoke for hours before falling asleep.
For some odd reason, I felt more lonely lying here than I had the entire trip.
My mood started spiraling before the day had begun; to distract myself, I turned on music until the house shook and cleaned until it was nearly time to get ready.
If my parents watched me from wherever they resided, I could only imagine how disturbed they were, considering I never cleaned like this when they were alive. "You're welcome," I said out loud, wiping sweat from my forehead. "You guys were really slacking."
I checked my phone periodically throughout the day, only finding texts from Kate, Zoe, and Nora. Weston still had yet to reply or read my message. When I looked out the window, his car missing from his driveway.
What on earth was going on? Were we going to play phone tag until I left Clifton?
I started typing: Are you still coming tonight? Then backspaced and changed it to Everything okay? The message was delivered before I could chicken out.
Taking my makeup bag and dress, I hiked to my parent's bathroom. Nora requested me an hour early at the park beside Cliff Beach (where the event was being held) since I was 'on the council' and needed to make sure things were in order. I told her I didn't want to intrude, to which she replied that it was nonsense and I deserved to be there. The last thing I had was the heart to tell her I did not want to be there earlier than I had to.
Pushing open the bathroom window, the strong scent of the ocean drifted in on the warm breeze, and when it grazed my cheeks, I brought my hands to my face and traced its wake. The sizzle of nerves subsided as if they were carried out with the wind, replaced by an absolute calmness.
It could be my parent's saying thank you for caring for their house.
I showered, did my makeup, and dried my hair, attempting a blow-out but settled on using the curling iron left under my mother's sink. Her hairbrush sat untouched, loose strands of caramel-colored hair still woven between the bristles.
All I had left was the yellow dress hanging on the oak-carved canopy of my parent's bed. My robe fell to the floor at the same time my phone rang with a new message, and I practically dove for it.
Hey, no worries. Glad to hear I didn't overstep. Are you ready for tonight?
I reread Weston's name repeatedly, biting my nail, which did nothing to hide my endless smile.
No, I'm about to pour myself a glass of wine. Want me to pour you one?
Removing the sleeveless and backless dress from the hanger, I slipped it over my head, avoiding my hair, and contorted my arms to zipper the back. The fabric accentuated my hips but fell loose around my legs.
Another text came through: I'll have to pass. Have one for me, though.
Disappointment settled over me. Not knowing what to reply, I closed his contact, sprayed my mother's perfume on my neck and wrists, dug through her jewelry to find her gold drop diamond necklace and earrings, and then stared at my reflection.
Tonight would go great and fast.
My speech would go smoothly.
And I would not cry.
In the kitchen, I gulped a sizable glass of red wine over the sink, making sure not to spill any, and tucked my crinkled speech into my wristlet, phone, keys, and lipstick and climbed into my car.
Before pulling out of the driveway, I stared at Weston's last message and replied: I had one for you.
Long golden rays cascaded through the trees, glinting off leaves and into my car. Through the cracked windows, I listened to the crunch of earth against my tires, the rustling of branches, and sleepy seagull songs as they readied to settle in for the evening.
My knuckles turned white against the steering wheel as I drove closer to the park near Cliff Beach. Not a single soul moved in town. Only the occasional boat rocked in the harbor, and street lamps flickered. Everyone was inside, likely getting ready for the eventful night.
When the park came into sight, people moved swiftly, setting tables and rearranging chairs, all while Nora stood on the tiny platform stage, pointing in different directions. She wore a long, navy blue dress, her black hair slick in a bun, and a clipboard in hand.
I had to give Nora credit. She outdid herself this year.
On top of the white table cloths, candles glowed under hurricane holders, bouquets of lavender, baby's breath, and eucalyptus sat in the center alongside the tableware, and strung above the dining area and around trees were twinkle lights. The best part of the entire scene was the perfect backdrop of the lapping ocean.
Before leaving my car, I scanned the area for Zoe, but she was nowhere to be found. I texted asking if she was there, but she and her fiancé ran behind. With a groan, I climbed out of my car and made my way over to the stage.
"Ivey," Nora gasped. "You look absolutely stunning, sweetheart."
She engulfed me in a pitiful hug, clearly not wanting to ruin her hair or makeup.
"You look amazing, and so does this." I motioned to the surrounding area.
After thanking me, we walked to a tent housing tables of food and drinks. She handed me a champagne flute. "How is the speech? Are you ready?"
"It's good, and yes, I'm ready."
She rubbed my bare arm. "Your parents are here in spirit." Her smile was dismal, while mine didn't meet my eyes. I needed a couple more glasses of champagne to numb me from the emotions that would be dredged up tonight.
"Your neighbor didn't come?"
I almost choked on my drink. "You mean Weston? He's coming."
She tilted her chin upwards slowly. Considering we never really talked about him, I did not expect her to bring Wes up so casually. Thankfully, Nora has pulled away, and I had a moment to myself, which I spent checking my texts for the one-hundredth time today.
There were no new messages.
Seconds turned to minutes and those minutes slowly added up before I realized Nora did not need my help, and I came early for nothing, just as I thought I would. With my second glass of champagne, I stood at the park's edge, staring into the blue-gray water shimmering in the fading light.
Guests trickled in over the hour, and the noise of glasses clinking and the conversation grew louder. Eventually, I joined the crowd searching for Zoe or Weston, and I spotted Zoe in a baby blue gown with only her engagement ring on her finger. We kissed each other's cheeks and hugged—a real hug.
"I knew that dress was perfect for you," she looked me up and down, gawking.
"Thanks to you," I nudged her arm, feeling slightly off-kilter. "You look magnificent."
"Why, thank you, Ivey. I want to introduce you to my fiancé, Ben."
A handsome, dark-haired man greeted me, even more, handsome than Zoe explained, and I extended my hand. We three small talked for some time until they were quickly swept away by Nora, and I was left to fend for myself.
Standing in the corner of the party, I crossed my feet, uncrossed them, and moved my glass from one hand to the other to seem casual despite feeling more uncomfortable than ever before. Most guests walked right past me. Some who recognized me greeted me like I was a skittish baby deer, too scared to bring up the reason why we were all here. Others whispered while staring as if I couldn't see them.
Waiters made their rounds with serving trays, which was how I got my third drink. From the heaviness in my eyes and numb lips, I knew I needed to slow down, or else I would be plastered by speech time. The buzz I had was enough to make me feel like I belonged but not enough to blend in.
The problem wasn't the party, the crowd, or even my speech. It was who this party was made up of, and the faint whispering of how ungrateful I was or how parents were glad I wasn't their child because, God for bid, I wasn't honoring Logan and Ester to their unattainable standards.
If my parents were here, their eyes would be so far backward in their skulls from disappointment, and I would not be in this situation.
Someone walked in my direction, smaller in stature with short grey hair. I placed both feet square on the ground and straightened my back, preparing for the interaction. "Hello, Ivey. It's lovely to see you." Lisa, Weston's secretary at the office, embraced me, and my nerves sizzled like water on a hot surface. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Lisa. I'm Weston's secretary."
"Hi, Lisa," I greeted her warmly. "Of course, I remember you."
We talked pleasantries for some time which kept my anxiety at bay. After some time and continuously scanning the party, Weston was nowhere to be found. "Have you seen Weston tonight?" I asked, figuring it was shot in the dark.
"No..." She scratched her head and looked around. "I haven't."
A 'hmm' sound came from me, and I tried to hide my disappointment.
"I assumed he would be here since he showed me a picture of his tuxedo at the office yesterday," she added.
My stomach knotted, and I shifted my weight. What if something had happened to Wes? I reached for my phone but forgot I had placed it in my car. "He told me that he would be here, too."
Likely sensing my concern, her forehead softened, and the corner of her mouth lifted—a motherly look. "Don't worry, hun." Her soft hands stroked my arm. "He's probably just running late."
An hour had passed since our conversation, and Weston was still nowhere to be found.
Everyone took their seats for dinner, with me seated at The Lincoln's table. Mayor Wallaby sat between his wife and Nora on the opposite side of the table, belly-laughing at something Mr. Lincoln said. Thankfully I was beside Zoe, who kept glancing at me from her periphery.
"You okay?" she finally whispered. "If you're worrying about the speech, don't. It'll go great."
"Have you heard from Weston?" I blurted
Her mouth opened, surmised by my question, then closed. "Uh, no, we haven't spoken today. Is Everything alright?"
"It's not a big deal. He was supposed to be here, and I haven't seen him."
"Have you texted or called?"
"I did earlier, but I don't have my phone now."
She materialized hers, holding it under the table, out of sight, as if we were texting someone we weren't allowed to. Her thumbs raced over the screen. "There," she put it down. "I'll let you know if he replies. I wouldn't let this worry you, though. He may have backed out, considering how many people here are assholes to him."
I told myself she was right.
We looked up from under the table and caught Nora watching, her expression quizzical. Zoe's eye contact with her mother was un-breaking as she lifted her wine glass, toasted her, and took a long gulp. I did not want to be apart or in the middle of whatever silent exchange they had.
The night sky was illuminated by the bright light of the moon. As it shone down, it warmed the party, glittering off cheerful, tipsy faces. After dessert and coffee were served, Nora and Mayor Wallaby took the stage and began one of their many speeches.
"Everyone knows tonight's event is very near and dear to our hearts. We raised money for Searching For A Saint, a non-profit organization devoted to helping locate missing people. Everyone in our community has been touched profoundly by the passing of Logan and Ester Pierce, whom tonight is in honor. And we're lucky to have Ivey Pierce, their only daughter, here to celebrate this wonderful evening with us."
Applause ensued, and people broke their necks to find me in the crowd.
I smiled and lifted a hand, not sure of how to react.
Nora introduced some of the board members of Searching For A Saint next who made it here for tonight's celebration and invited them on stage to speak. In between their talking, Zoe held up her phone and shook her head.
Where the hell was Weston?
I was going up any moment.
"Please give them a round of applause." Nora took the microphone back. "If you have a moment to thank them for their service, please do so. I would like to welcome a special guest onto the stage, Ivey Pierce."
Standing, I wrung my hands, ignoring my pounding heart. My dress trailed behind me as I ascended the platform and stood with my fingers interlaced. Public speaking was familiar to me, except for speaking in front of Clifton.
Zoe nodded, and I heard Kate's voice telling me everything would be fine. But as I scanned the area, Weston was still nowhere to be found.
Nora embraced me—giving a better hug in front of everyone than she had in private—and handed me the microphone.
Too late, I realized the paper with my speech was in my car, alongside my phone. Fuck, Ivey. I couldn't leave the stage. Keeping my gaze fixed on the ocean behind everyone, I avoided eye contact with the crowd because that would only make my anxiety worse.
I cleared my throat. "Hello, I hope everyone is doing well this beautiful evening." Wracking my brain for any memory of my speech, I said, "Tonight is a very special night, and I'm glad to share it with you all. Uh, as most of you know, my parents, Ester, and Logan Pierce went missing two years ago off the coast of Maryland. For five days, first responders searched until they were found—" My throat closed as the words tried coming out. "Found deceased."
"Uhm—My life changed profoundly after losing my parents. I know grief takes a different form for everyone, and I'm still learning to navigate mine, but in our sadness, we must remember their love will always stay with us."
The tang of iron filled my mouth before I noticed my teeth gnawing on my cheek. "So, to that, I say, honor the memories of loved ones lost and keep them close. Thank you, Searching For A Saint, for all the work you do to bring family home."
Everyone raised a glass at the end of my speech.
My body moved on autopilot—like someone had seized my control center and kept me functioning despite my emotions trying to take over. Somehow, I shook hands and accepted my condolences. This was it. The funeral they always wanted but never got.
"You alright? You look really pale." Zoe held my back.
"I just need a moment."
My legs carried me out of the park toward Cliff Beach, and my heels wobbled against the dirt and sand, sinking into the earth and ruining the satin fabric. I yanked them off and started running once I was out of the party's sight.
I clutched at my chest and throat, tears spilling down my cheeks.
My dress felt too tight, and so did my skin.
In the distance, something glinted in the moonlight. My pace slowed, and so did my breathing. I squinted through watery eyes and saw a silver statue standing tall.
Unhurriedly, I made my way toward what I believed was my parent's memorial.
A tiny boat carved out of stone, replicated to look like the one my parents lost, sat atop a pillar, and underneath was a plaque labeled in their honor. Bouquets surrounded the sculpture on all sides, so fresh that they were likely put here today.
I sank to my knees, bowing my head.
I missed them so much that it hurt.
"You alright?" A voice called, and I wiped my tears away, knowing who was behind me.
Weston stood in his tuxedo with his jacket draped over his arm and no shoes. His chest heaved as if he had been running. His gaze softened when our eyes locked, and he tilted his head gently, noticing my current state.
He was on the sand beside me in a heartbeat, drawing me into his embrace, and I could not stop new tears from falling.
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