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Stacey's cheeks go pink, and she nudges the joker in the group, but he pushes on. "You have a woman, Tommy?"
I pause, considering. Does a lover who's fled from her family count? "Uh yeah, actually."
Stacey gathers her courage. "Is it serious?"
"Pretty serious. We're engaged," I blurt out, instantly regretting the lie. It's as if I'm compelled to add to my own misery, but the idea of someone new fawning over me is the last thing I want.
"Congratulations," she says, while the others laugh again. A twinge of guilt hits me, realizing I've embarrassed her with my lie.
"I'm gonna go get a snack. Keep it real, guys," I say, distancing myself from the teasing crowd around Stacey. Shaking my head as I walk away, I figure she won't have any trouble finding a new source for her affections. With all the joking, it's likely one of the guys will catch her interest eventually.
Below deck at the snack table, I grab a protein bar. I take a seat on one of the long white leather couches. The boat is one of the finer ones I’ve been on. It’s sleek and modern, with accents and luxury I’m not really comfortable with. Really, it just reminds me of how far I am from home.
But I do enjoy the way the waves roll beneath the hull, and let it lull me into a state of calm. Flying home in the morning feels like a relief, though I'm not even considering going back to San Diego. Costa Rica is calling me; I need to try to move on with my life. But fabricating stories about my relationship status to colleagues? That's just a surefire way to keep me anchored in the past.
I'm not ready for anything new, not yet anyway. There will inevitably come a day when I welcome attention from other women. At least I hope. Right now, it feels impossible. But I've managed to move past my feelings for Tilly before.
That's a lie, too. When she stopped speaking to me, it stung deeply, leading me to isolation. Perhaps not to the extent I'm experiencing now, but enough to remind me that moving on from her this time will be significantly harder.
Settling on one of the bench seats, still damp from my surf session, I gaze out at the setting sun. Getting over Tilly isn’t impossible, but it's clear to me that if it does ever happen, it’s a long time down the road.
***
The next morning at my hotel, I'm jolted awake by the ringing of my phone. Groggily reaching out, I pull it to my ear and answer, "Yeah?"
"Hey Tommy, it's Phil."
I'm instantly alert, sitting up in bed. “What’s up?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm.
"We have three possible locations. Kansas City, Burlington, and Colorado Springs. All cold, places with antique carousels, new age spas, and with minor league baseball games where someone got injured on April 24th."
"Can't you narrow it down any further?"
"Not without more data, sorry. Look, I'm gonna stop searching. I'd suggest calling around the motels in those cities and asking for her."
"Yeah, I'll start doing that right away. Thanks, Phil."
"No problem." Phil offers a quick goodbye before we hang up. I open an internet tab on my phone, already looking at flights to Kansas City. Knowing Tilly, she'd instruct people not to divulge her information to callers. No, I'd have to visit every motel in those cities to find her.
It could take weeks, but I'm undeterred. If I find her and she tells me to my face that she doesn't want to be with me, then I can start to move on. Yet, deep down, I harbor a hope that once she sees me, I'll be able to persuade her to come home.
Chapter twenty-nine
Tilly
It's been three weeks since I found out about the pregnancy. The news was a shock at first, but now, talking to little Tommy after work has become my favorite way to unwind. It feels like a small hint of peace in the midst of everything. My little peanut is a great listener, even if he does like to still make me sick occasionally.
Living in the motel isn't ideal, but that's about to change. I've been picking up every shift possible at the motel and started bartending at the town's only bar, luckily within walking distance of the motel. Every penny is being saved, and in two months, I should have enough for a deposit on a modest apartment.
After finishing my last room cleaning for the day, I'm hurrying back to my room to change into some jeans. The little Tommy bump is starting to make its presence known, making buttoning my jeans a bit of a struggle. It seems quick. When Sam found out she was pregnant, it felt like forever before I could see any change in her body.
But at least I'm not as sick. At what I figure to be eight weeks along, the nausea and exhaustion are starting to lessen. According to the books Jemma brought me, I should feel more or less normal until the last trimester. That's why I'm pushing myself to work as much as I can now, while I still have the energy.
After pulling on a clean shirt, I grab a coconut milk and a power bar from the minifridge – not exactly the dinner I'm craving, but it'll have to do for now.
"Dinner of champs, little man,” I say aloud. For some reason, I picture the baby rolling his eyes at me. The thought makes me smile. My first ‘dad joke.’ Outside, the spring air is warming up, hinting that summer might finally be arriving in Burlington. And thank God. I can’t stand the cold.
Crossing the street to the bar, I find it bustling. Thursdays are bowling night and the leagues usually come in for a drink or two. It means loud debates over bowling technique but also great tips. I've dressed strategically in a low-cut top, taking Jemma's advice to "flaunt it if you've got it."
