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Hearts Ahoy

Page 12

by Stephanie Taylor


  On the radio, Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” poured from the speakers, and Julia looked all around, listening to the music as they drove to a spot that Martin promised her would give them an incredible view.

  “Here we are,” Martin said, swinging the car into a driveway and passing beneath a Polynesian-style arch that said GARDEN OF EDEN ARBORETUM across the top.

  Julia let her hands fall into her lap. Now that they were rolling slowly, her hat wasn’t in danger of flying away. “We’re going to the Garden of Eden?” she asked, looking around. Beautiful, lush flowers dotted the patches of green all around them.

  “We are,” Martin affirmed, driving into a lot and parking. “I thought we could explore and maybe have lunch in the cafe. There’s a waterfall overlook and tons of gardens to wander.”

  They got out of the convertible and shut the doors firmly, leaving the top down. Julia walked around the back of the car and looped her arm through Martin’s, holding her hat to her head again as she looked up at the clear blue sky.

  “Perfect day for it,” she said.

  Martin paid for them to get into the Garden of Eden and they each took a map of the grounds and looked it over as they stopped in an open, grassy area to take it all in.

  “How about the Pouhokamoa Falls overlook?” Martin asked, pointing at a spot on his open map.

  “I’m game.” Julia followed him as he led the way, stopping every so often to take a sip from the water bottle she’d brought with her from the ship. They shared the bottle all the way to the top, where a round pool of turquoise water was ringed with hot orange flowers and lava colored rocks. A waterfall spilled freely into the pool of water, and they stood there, side by side, watching the natural wonder.

  “Let’s sit,” Martin said, pointing at a flat lava rock under a tree.

  The morning had been easy and amiable, and while Julia had loved the feeling of comfortable companionship between them, a part of her longed for the moment when they’d sit down and actually talk.

  It took a few minutes of watching the waterfall, but finally Martin spoke. “I have a lot to tell you.”

  Julia nodded, keeping her eyes on the water. There was no chance she was going to speak too soon and spook him now—not when he was actually ready to talk.

  Martin leaned his back against the tree trunk behind him and pulled his knees up, resting his elbows on them casually. “I was married really young,” he said.

  Julia nodded again; she’d been married fairly young herself, but she knew that this was just the beginning of the story.

  “Actually, let me back up,” he said, turning to look at her. “I had my son really young. Esmerelda and I were eighteen when he was born, and we had no idea what we were doing.”

  Julia gave a sympathetic laugh. “You never really know quite what you’re doing when it comes to raising kids, do you?” she asked softly, bumping into his shoulder with her own.

  Martin’s serious face broke momentarily. “No, you don’t,” he agreed. “But Esme and I were really flying blind. We lived with her older sister at the time, and we counted on her completely to help us get by.”

  Julia had no idea where this was going, and her puzzlement must have shown on her face because Martin turned his body fully and faced her.

  “Esme and I were both born here, Julia,” he said. “We had our papers, and our son was totally fine. But her sister…she wasn’t born here. She came from Mexico when she was only three, and she’d been in hiding for most of her life.”

  “Ohhh,” Julia said. She was starting to understand where the story was going.

  “So when Beatriz got word that her work was about to be raided by ICE, we realized that our lives were really precarious, living the way that we did.” He looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to understand. “Esme convinced me to marry her sister, Julia. I married Beatriz so that she could stay in the States and keep living the life that was already rightfully hers. She’d done nothing wrong when her parents brought her here as a baby. I had to help her—and to help us.”

  A million questions floated through Julia’s mind, but she couldn’t decide which to ask first. Luckily, Martin kept talking and filling in the blanks for her.

  “So when I told you a few days ago that I’d been married to the wrong person for the wrong reasons, that’s what I meant.” He turned his body to the water again and leaned against the tree, this time tipping his head back and resting it on the tree trunk. “Beatriz is not a nice person. I give her all the credit in the world for helping us to raise Jonathan and to give a couple of eighteen-year-old kids a chance at survival, but there was some strange sibling rivalry at work there.”

  “Did Esme not like it that you’d married her sister?” Julia ventured.

  “More than that, Beatriz really used it against her. Esme had begged me to do it, but then she and Beatriz went rounds almost daily, using me as the pawn between them. Esme would assure her sister that I loved her and our son, and Beatriz would throw it back in her face that I’d readily married her.” He put his hands in his hair and closed his eyes at the memory of it all. “It was bad. And I didn’t love Beatriz, no matter what crazy things she told her sister. I never so much as touched her. Not even a kiss at our wedding beyond a peck on the cheek in front of the judge for show.”

  “Wow,” Julia said, shaking her head. She wasn’t sure what else she could say.

  “So,” Martin said, opening his eyes again and staring at the waterfall. “When it came time for us to get interviewed about our marriage, Esme ruined it all. She was jealous and I totally understand that now, but nearly two years of living a lie to help Beatriz stay in the country was for nothing. They sent her to Mexico and I spent more than two years in prison for marriage fraud. It’s a federal crime.”

  Julia reached out and put a hand on Martin’s thigh. The whole thing was crystal clear to her now, except for what had gone wrong with his son and why they no longer spoke. “And Jonathan?” she asked gently.

  “Jonathan is over thirty now,” he said, smiling at the thought of his grown son. “He’s amazing. Esme tells me everything.”

  “You did a lot for your family,” Julia whispered reassuringly. “It’s completely admirable.”

  “Well, I did what seemed right at the time,” he said, giving her a tight smile. “All Jonathan grew up knowing was that I’d left his mother to marry his aunt, and that, in the end, I couldn’t even keep the aunt who had helped to raise him here in the country. In his eyes, I was a total failure, and he grew up with that narrative in his head.”

  “And nothing you did could change that? What about Esme?” Julia implored.

  “Oh, she tried,” he assured her. “We both tried to talk to him, but he felt that he’d become the man of the house in my absence, and that it was his right to determine what made someone worthy of being the head of a household. He deemed me unworthy. And frankly, things were never the same with me and Esme after I went to prison.”

  “Martin,” Julia said, feeling breathless. She just kept shaking her head.

  “It’s alright now,” he said, giving her a long look. “It really is. Life turns out the way it’s supposed to—at least that’s what I believe. Esme got married about ten years ago and she’s happy. Jonathan has children and a wife he loves, and look at me—I’m not unhappy.”

  Julia searched his face. She hoped with all of her heart that that was true.

  Almost as if to reassure her, Martin leaned in closer so that his face was next to hers. “I’m not, Julia. I promise you. Being here in the Garden of Eden with you is amazing, and I do believe that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be right now.”

  Julia felt her smile wobble uncertainly as she heard his words, but then she moved closer and kissed him. She was about to ask him why his lips were salty when she realized that she was crying, and that it was her own tears that were making their kiss taste like the ocean.

  “Hey,” he said, pulling back and putting his hands on both s
ides of her face. “You okay?”

  Julia nodded quickly and put her hands over his so that they were both touching her face. “Yes, I’m good. So good,” she said. “I just…thank you for telling me everything.”

  “Come on,” he said, frowning gently. “You deserved the whole story—all of it. Not some sensationalized bullshit version to get people’s attention on a cruise gameshow.”

  “Why would they ever use that as something to share about a person in that stupid game?” Julia shook her head.

  “I have no idea. Maybe they think women like bad boys,” he joked.

  Julia had to laugh at that. “I guess they wouldn’t be wrong. Women do like a man they feel like they can tame.”

  “Oh?” Martin turned his head and raised an eyebrow suggestively. “You trying to tame me, Delmonico?”

  Julia leaned into him and wrapped her long arms around his neck, putting her face into the spot below his ear that she’d quickly come to realize last night was the epicenter of his comforting, spicy scent.

  “Not really,” she sighed contentedly. “I kind of like you just how you are.”

  She could feel Martin chuckle appreciatively as he put his arm around her body and pulled her closer to him.

  Maui’s lush greenness merged pleasantly with the roar of the ocean, breathtaking beaches, and enough shops and restaurants to keep Julia and Martin amused. The ship was in port for two full days on Maui before turning around and cruising back to the mainland, and they took full advantage of the gorgeous island. At the end of their first day on Maui, Martin led her to a spot on the beach and unfurled a blanket he’d bought at a gift shop.

  “For you, milady.” He sank onto the blanket and patted the spot next to him, angling his body so that he was facing her, one side of his face to the ocean, the other side to the parking lot. “I’m looking for someone,” he explained as she sat.

  “Oh?”

  Before long, a man in cargo shorts with peeling lips and sun bleached hair approached uncertainly, glancing at the paper in his hand.

  “Over here,” Martin said, holding up two fingers as he jumped to his feet.

  The young man walked over and gave them a lopsided grin. “Here you go,” he said, handing Martin two heavy plastic bags and a third bag that reminded Julia of the ones she folded up in the back of her car and took to the grocery store each week.

  “What is this?” she asked, watching him as he set everything on the blanket and sank to his knees.

  “Dinner.” Looking up at her through his eyelashes, Martin got to work setting out cartons of rice, braised pork, pineapple, and other vegetables. He held up a fork in one hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other. “Preference?”

  “Both,” Julia said, reaching for the utensils.

  “Oh, interesting. A girl who goes in prepared—I like it.”

  “Always.” Julia smiled as she watched him dig through the bags for napkins. He sat down and folded his legs in the slightly uncomfortable way that most men did when they tried to sit on the ground, reaching for a bottle of prosecco that was hidden in the reusable grocery bag.

  “Can I offer you a beverage?”

  “I would love a beverage.” Julia took the paper cup he offered and waited as he worked the cork out slowly, holding the bottle to his body as it popped loudly.

  Martin slowly poured the sparkling wine into her cup, then into his own. Wedging the base of the bottle in the sand next to their blanket, he held up his glass in a toast. “To all of this,” he said, gesturing at the water and the horizon and the setting sun. “And to you.”

  “To all of this,” Julia agreed, holding her own cup aloft. “And to you,” she added softly.

  Before they each took a sip of their wine, Martin leaned over and kissed her.

  “Hey,” Julia said, “I thought we were supposed to drink for luck right after a toast! Doesn’t not taking a sip mean bad luck or something?”

  “No. Kissing before you take a sip cleanses the energy and makes the toast more powerful.”

  Julia threw her head back and laughed. “Okay,” she said. “I can buy that.” In unison, they took their first sips and she felt the bubbles slide down her throat. The sun warmed her shoulders as it made its final descent toward the horizon. “This is beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Martin shrugged easily, as if setting up a dinner on the beach was all in a day’s work. “All I needed was Uber Eats, a sunset, and a beautiful girl.”

  They ate peacefully, watching as a family with four small children played in the surf and the youngest child repeatedly filled a bucket with sand, ran to the water, and dumped it with glee. The sun sank lower, casting a pink-orange glow over the whole scene that matched the warm glow Julia was feeling on the inside from the food and wine.

  Martin’s explanation of his marriage to Beatriz had been straightforward enough; Julia was feeling totally at ease with the whole scenario, given the earnestness of a young man just trying to make the lives of his girlfriend and son easier. It had been regrettable, to be sure, and she wished that he could somehow mend fences with his son, but as she pushed her food aside and leaned into his shoulder, Julia understood that he’d done what felt right at the time. She sighed with contentment, thinking of what it must have been like to spend time in prison for doing something that felt altruistic and necessary.

  “Hey,” Martin said, nudging her gently with the shoulder that she leaned against. “What do you think of that?” He pointed at the horizon with his free hand and wrapped the arm she was leaning against around her shoulders.

  The sun was a fiery orb, sinking slowly and dipping below the horizon as people splashed in and out of the water, shouting and frolicking as if magic like this occurred every day. The fact that it did occur every day for them made Julia feel like she’d chosen to call the wrong state home for all these years. She was about to tell Martin something to that effect when his phone began to buzz on the blanket between them.

  He frowned as he released his grip on Julia and then checked the screen.

  “Everything okay?” Julia asked, smiling at him lazily. She wouldn’t go so far as to call herself drunk or even buzzed, but the Prosecco had left her feeling loose and relaxed.

  It took a beat longer for him to answer than it should have. “Great,” Martin said, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Everything is good.” He put his arm back around her shoulder and pulled her close as they watched the last rays of sunlight casting a glow over the sky and ocean. “Everything is more than good,” he whispered reassuringly. “Better than I ever could have hoped for.”

  16

  Julia woke up the next morning in Martin’s bed, as she had the morning before. She’d been tempted to invite him to her room, but the idea of Arthur catching her kissing her overnight guest goodbye at her door as he slunk out in the same clothes he’d worn the day before was too much for her. Her sense of propriety encouraged her to act as if Arthur were her own grandfather, and as such, she didn’t want to put either of them in an uncomfortable position.

  “Martin?” Julia pulled the sheet up over her chest and sat up in bed. She’d just realized that he wasn’t laying next to her, and in her sleepy haze she felt totally displaced. “Hello?”

  She tugged the sheet free of the bed, wrapping it around her naked body as she stood up and walked over to the balcony door. It was closed and locked; there was no sign of Martin outside sipping coffee in one of the lounge chairs.

  “Hey,” Julia called, rapping lightly on the bathroom door with her knuckles. “Martin?” No sound came from within. A cold chill ran down her spine, prickling at her skin and leaving her with a sense of dread. She switched on the lamp, found her purse, and dug for her phone. No messages from Martin.

  The heat of the night before came back to her in fleeting flashes: the way he’d pulled her close on the balcony after their long day on Maui, slipping his hands under her shirt and cupping her breasts in his warm hands while he kissed her; the feel of the cold balco
ny railing against her thighs as he pushed up her dress and pressed into her body with his. They’d finally ended up in his bed and had a repeat of Night One, much to Julia’s pleasure and relief. Had their first night of passion been a one-off, she might have been forced to excuse the whole thing as some sort of vacation fling, or as her own over-eager response to being touched after so many months and years of being alone, but if anything, the second night had sealed the deal for her, filling her with comfort and happiness as they’d enjoyed each other without the nerve-wracking feeling of two strangers embarking on an unfamiliar journey.

  But now, standing alone in the middle of his room, she began to wonder. In a sudden burst of inspiration, she flung open his closet: empty. She pulled the drawers out one by one: empty. She spun around, searching for a suitcase or bag of any sort: nothing. Julia felt her blood pressure rising in tempo with her racing heart, and she flung the sheet onto the bed as she grabbed her clothes from the chair she’d draped them over. With shaking hands, she dressed and picked up her purse, not giving the room even a backwards glance as she slammed the door behind her.

  All morning Julia fumed. She’d gone back to her room and showered and re-dressed, unsure about whether or not she should disembark angrily and spend a miserable second day roaming around Maui without Martin. By eleven o’clock, she was still feeling sick to her stomach and filled with worry, so she made her way to the concierge for the floor she was staying on.

  “Hi,” she said, slipping into the small office as the glass door whispered shut behind her. “I was wondering if there was any way to find out about a guest who…kind of disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” The woman looked up from her keyboard with alarm.

  “Well, no, not exactly,” Julia qualified, pulling her phone from her purse as if it were some sort of proof. “See, we had been together all day yesterday and last night, but then I woke up in his room and all of his things were gone, and he hasn’t called or messaged me.” A deep flush of mortification swept over her as she realized how this sounded.

 

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