by Megyn Ward
I’ve got the whole trip home tomorrow to figure out the right words. I’ll see Erika as soon as possible. That’s when I’ll tell her I can’t marry her. Even if Lauren won’t have me, I can’t go through with promising my lifetime to Erika. I don’t love her. Maybe we could have made a good marriage, being great friends and parenting our children. Buying a small house, then a bigger one. Moving up and being the respectable attorney and his wife.
But with Lauren, there’s more. The colors are brighter, the air sweeter. And, dear god, what our bodies do to each other is a religion worth fighting the Crusades to keep.
I’ll be back for Lauren and we’ll figure out our lives. Whatever she wants, I’ll do that. I can’t leave her again. She’s my forever.
Even Mother Ocean is in on the plan. I couldn’t believe it when right before we ascended for our safety stop on the last dive, I spotted something in the sand. A perfect sand dollar. Not the slightest nick or chip. I’d cradled it carefully as we boarded the boat and then stashed it in the first aid kit.
As a promise, I’m going to give Lauren the sand dollar. She’ll know exactly what it means. I’ll ask her to keep it by her bedside and wait for me to come back. I know she has no reason to trust me, but she’s got to feel how perfect we are for each other. I believe she wants me as much as I want her. Forever this time.
I’m hurrying up the dock, thinking about what I plan to do to her. I hear her singing that silly Rod Stewart song she always sang and swayed her hips while she teased me. She thinks it’s sexy. The song is bad, especially in her off-key voice, but her hips? I’d listen to fingernails on a chalkboard to watch those hips.
I push open the door to the dive shop, anticipating some surprise from Lauren because she’s stopped singing. It must mean she’s up to something and in the mood she’s in, that something will probably curl my toes in pleasure.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark of the shop but when they do I think I’ve fallen into my worst nightmare.
“Erika?”
She’s said my name at the same time I spoke and she giggles in the silence that immediately follows. In no time she hurries across the shop and launches herself into my arms. Her legs wind around my hips and her arms pull me close. “Blake!”
I’m wildly casting around to find Lauren. She’s backed up to the office door, her hand over her mouth, eyes horrified. “La—.”
Erika’s lips close on mine and she grabs the back of my head, leveraging herself to balance on my hips. I can’t do anything but make eye contact with Lauren. By instinct, because Erika is slipping, I wind a hand under her ass and prop her up.
Lauren’s eyes follow that movement and it seems to be like a hot poker to her. She jerks and shakes her head as if to clear it. Then she strides toward us.
Is she going to hit me? Kill me? Kill Erika?
No. She’s heading for the door but we’re standing in front of it and she can’t escape.
I pull my face back from Erika and whip my arm from under her, sort of shucking her to the ground where she lands and giggles again.
Lauren never giggles.
Erika grabs my hand and swings mine back and forth, way too cute for grown people. “So this is who I was looking for.” She grins at me and then Lauren. “My fiancé, Blake.”
Color drains from Lauren’s face and her mouth trembles. “Fiancé.” It sounds like a dead fish landing on the floor. To me she says, “Congratulations.”
Erika is clueless there’s an undercurrent. She tugs my arm and raises on her tiptoes to give me a smack on the lips. “I’ve missed you. And when you said you weren’t coming home and didn’t know when you would, well, I had to get on a plane that instant. Because I’m just nothing without you.”
She’s giving me her pouty lips but I can’t do anything except stare at Lauren. She clearly thinks I lied to her. I did, by not telling her about Erika. But I couldn’t and now I see what an asshole I was. I should have told Lauren I love her from the moment I saw her again at Kylie’s house. I have to say something. But Erika is my fiancé and I owe her a private breakup. “Lauren, I….”
She waits, shooting me full of holes with her eyes, while I flounder for the right words.
Erika notices the sand dollar in my hand. She lifts my wrist and gives it her full attention. “Is this for me? It’s so pretty! I love it.”
Lauren's eyes rest on the sand dollar then they slowly make their way to catch mine. There’s a deep look of pain and betrayal shining in them. She raises an eyebrow. “Please get out of my way. I have things to do.”
Erika seems to get an inkling of hostility. Her little-girl cutesy expression shifts to a frown. She looks up at me. “I’m sorry. Is there something wrong?”
“No. Nothing wrong. Blake and I were just reminiscing about old times.” Lauren waves her hand in the air. But now you’re here, you can keep him company. “This is a romantic place for people in love.”
She’s breaking apart in front of me. I am certain she loves me with as much depth as I love her. She said she was only fucking me because it felt good, but my heart knew the lie. And now, she thinks I betrayed her again. I’ll never be able to fix this.
But I have to try.
She waits one second longer, then plants a hand on my shoulder and shoves me aside, making me crash against Erika.
Erika squeaks like a frightened mouse. “Well. That’s rude.”
Lauren doesn’t hesitate. She flounces past me, head high, that Liesa Temple regal posture holding her upright.
Erika gasps. “Oh my god! It’s her. It’s you! I can’t believe it! I’ve been a fan of yours since high school!”
Lauren’s head snaps around and she pins Erika with a wilting gaze. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not that girl.” Lauren glares at me. “I was never that girl.”
“Lock up when you’re done.” She grabs the doorknob and wrenches it open. “And clean up after yourselves.”
Chapter 19
Lauren
Damnit. I’d done it again. What’s that old saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Why had I trusted Blake?
A fiancé? That hadn’t occurred to me. If I’d been looking to be hurt, I’d have bet on him bugging out. In fact, I did bet on that. I hoped maybe he realized, as I thought I had, that we were meant to be together. I really thought it was possible he’d be mine. That was stupid, of course.
I knew all along even thinking he’d changed was only going to get me hurt. But, I’d opened the door for hope. Am I never going to learn?
The practical part of me planned on Blake and I being together tonight but I’d tried to convince myself that’s all I expected and I’d be satisfied making good use of his body while he was here. After that, I’d force myself to put Blake out of my heart forever and no matter what, try to find someone knew.
But the dreamer part of me, the one with hopes and fantasies, believed Blake felt the same love for me that I did for him. That’s the part I’d kept warning to remember that Blake was heading back to New York. So she at least knew he’d probably leave no matter how much she wanted him to stay.
I’d never considered he’d have someone else. Never would have believed he’d come to Cayman and hooked up with me while he was engaged to be married to someone else. I tease Blake about being a good boy. But I really thought he was. This just proves what a total asshole he is. It shows how deluded I am about him.
Thank god I didn’t tell him about Ellie. I never want her to meet him. She can’t be close to a man who would do this to a woman. To me.
I’m glad Kylie doesn’t lock her Tacoma. I’d never be able to fit my key into the door to turn it. On the island, if a vehicle is locked, it’s likely to get broken into. Tourists are dumb and leave all kinds of valuable stuff in their gloveboxes, trunks, and even, for the love of god, on their backseats. We don’t leave anything worthwhile in the truck and don’t bother locking it. Much safer that way.
I
struggle to get inside and calm my breathing enough to slide the key into the ignition. I have to get out of here before Blake and little Miss Too Cute to Be True come out.
I finally succeed in getting the pickup into gear and backing out. When I get on the road and the wind whips in the open window, I feel the cool of tears evaporating on my face. Fuck him. I swore I wouldn’t cry anymore for that prick. And here I am, wiping them off my face again. He’s not worth it.
I’ve given him four years of my life. That’s too many already. I need to be a good mother to Ellie, but that doesn’t mean I have to stay home every night reliving the fantasies of a guy I obviously never knew.
Now thrumming with anger, I slam the side gate when I enter the piazza. Ellie is playing by the gazebo. She pops up when she sees me. “Mommy!”
She races across the bricks and I squat to catch her in my arms. I bury my face in her sweaty little neck, breathing in the toddler scent of soap, dirt, orange juice, and that trusting love.
She squirms and pushes away. “You missed me.”
I open my embrace and let her dance away. Blake may be back at his hotel falling into bed with his little doll, but I’ve got someone to love, too. “I absolutely did. What did you and Gram do today?”
She scrunches up her face and thinks. “We had Nutella for lunch.”
Huh. That doesn’t sound like Gram. I studiously turn my thoughts away from Blake and what he liked to spread with Nutella. “What did you have along with it?”
“Salami.”
Yuck. “Well, some people think dark chocolate and bacon is a good combo. If you like salami and Nutella, I won’t argue.”
“Grandfather didn’t want me to eat it. He said the salami is for the crackers and the apple is for the Nutella.”
Cold fingers squeezed my heart. “Grandfather? You had lunch with Jonas?”
She frowned. “Gram had to go someplace.”
I don’t like this at all. Ellie is good with Gram. Deborah and Jacob are trusted, though they don’t work every day. But Jonas, who has the audacity to have Ellie call him Grandfather, is not someone Ellie can be around unsupervised.
I try to keep my voice light. Ellie is good at reading my moods. “Where did Gram have to go?”
Ellie pirouettes in front of me. “I can’t ‘member. Hopice?”
My heart stops. “Hospital?”
Ellie catches the alarm in my voice. “What?”
I grab her under her arms and heft her to my hip and take off for Gram’s house. “Jonas? Simone?”
Mother appears from the entry of a hallway leading to the bedrooms. She’s wearing a flowing, see-through chiffon robe with nothing underneath.
I can’t help muttering at her. “Jesus, put something on.”
She’s holding a sweating glass of clear liquid with a lime slice swimming in melting ice cubes. Her third? Fourth? More? Gin and tonic or vodka or whatever. “What crawled up your ass?” she asks.
I want to clamp my hands over Ellie’s ears but then realize my choice of vocabulary hadn’t been much better. Speaking that carelessly shows me how stressed I am. I’m usually much more careful about what I say in front of Ellie.
Damn Blake. And that miniature human he calls a fiancé.
“Where’s Gram?” I try to keep my voice calm.
Simone blinks. “Oh. That’s Mrs. Knightly to me.” Her laughter is as bitter as twice-brewed coffee. “She had a spell and they took her to the hospital.”
I want to throttle Simone. “Spell? What spell? What happened? Are you here alone? You’re drunk and hiding in here while Ellie is outside doing god knows what?” I can’t tell what I’m more upset about.
Simone blows a raspberry. “The walls are high. She’s safe. And, yes, Jonas went with his mother.” She stops to take a sip. “Honestly, I don’t know why you’re so twisted up.”
She’s worse than I’ve ever seen her. At some point, I should sit down with her and find out what’s happening to make her this bad. Is it alcoholism? Or is she self-medicating because of some other bad situation? I’m not as concerned as a daughter should be.
Frankly, I’m more worried about Gram and heartbroken over Blake to have much left over for Simone.
I’ve still got Ellie on my hip. She’s upset by the way Simone and I are acting or she’d never hug me so tight and stay so quiet. “What hospital?”
Simone waves her hand. “It’s a small island. How many can there be?”
She might have a point. I only know the one on the north side where Diana had been taken after she’d been beaten up. I’d bet there’s a fancier one for the well-heeled of our section.
A clattering sounds in the foyer and the front door swings open. No one appears and I set Ellie on the floor and rush over. I grab the edge of the door and fling it wider to see Gram leaning on a cane, with her arm draped over Jonas’s shoulder.
He encircles her with his arm and helps her hobble in. I want to shove him away from her but know that would do more harm than good. “Gram! Are you okay?”
She brings her head up to look at me. “I’ve been better, dear.” She quits struggling and addresses Jonas. “Let go of me, please. I need Lauren to help me into my bedroom.”
Jonas keeps tugging her forward. “Now, Mother. I’ve got you. We’ll get you tucked in and taken care of.”
I hate the gray strain on her face. Dark circles ring her eyes as if someone punched her in the nose. She labors for breath. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
He frowns but moves back for me to replace him. Gram leans into me, a surprising weight for someone so frail. “Okay, Gram. Slow and easy.”
She grimaces. “Of course, slow and easy. I’m not Florence Griffith-Joyner. Never could sprint.”
I have to laugh. “I don’t know who that is.”
She lets a smile slip onto her face before it fades in her ashy complexion. “An Olympic star. Only the fastest woman in the world. Way before your time.”
Jonas fidgets behind us as we stagger down the hall. Ellie scurries in front of us, half turned to Gram. I figure she’ll bounce off the hallway wall and flatten herself on the tile soon. We’re not likely to trip over her, though. We’re moving at the Speed of Sloth.
Ellie’s on the verge of tears. “Are you sick, Gram?”
Through breath as heavy as if she’d done that sprint of the Griffith-Joyner chick, Gram says, “I’m tired. Once I rest up I’ll be good as new.”
Jonas speaks over my shoulder. “You know what the doctor said, Mother. Bed rest. No excitement. Take your meds.”
I feel her tense. “I was right there. I ought to know what he said.”
Jonas doesn’t respond.
Ellie grasps the glass doorknob of Gram’s bedroom. She pushes the door in and bounds away to the other side of the bed.
I manage to get Gram through the threshold and she throws her chin over her shoulder. “That’s far enough, Jonas. Go have a cocktail with That Woman or something. I don’t need you.”
“I can help Lauren get you settled,” he starts with that overly solicitous voice.
Gram’s eyes close briefly then flutter open. “Thank you, son, for getting me to the emergency room and staying with me. But I’d rather have my granddaughter help me into my nightgown.”
“If you’re sure….”
From somewhere, my exhausted grandmother finds her firm voice. “I’m sure. Good night.”
Jonas tiptoes out and clicks the door closed.
Gram exhales and sinks to the side of her bed. “I thought he’d never leave.”
I allow a smile. “Her name is Simone, not That Woman.”
Gram’s eyes twinkle. “Some people might even call her Mother, instead of Simone.”
“Touche.”
Ellie climbs up on the bed and snuggles close to Gram. “I hope you feel better.”
“Ellie, get off the bed.” I reach for her to direct her to the fainting couch Gram keeps in the corner of her room. Ellie loves to play on that
.
Gram puts a hand on Ellie’s knee. “Let her stay. I love my great-granddaughter.”
Ellie basks in that and says, “I love my Gram.”
Okay, all that love settled, I go to Gram’s bureau to find her a nightgown. “What’s going on?”
Gram packs a metric ton of disdain in her words. “Not a darned thing.”
“And that’s why you ended up in ER?” I open a top drawer and marvel at the contents. My drawers are generally a jumble of folded clothes. Not in any order or pile, but at least folded. So, I half expect Gram’s lingerie to be in a jumble, like mine.
Instead, the silks and satins are laid out with tissue paper in between, as if arranged in an exclusive boutique. Old school. Old money. Lots of it.
“We were sitting in the gazebo having our afternoon cocktail. I felt a little indigestion.”
That alarms me. “Indigestion? That’s the sign of a heart attack.”
She growls at me. “Indigestion. For heaven’s sake, I had pepperoncini on my salad at luncheon and then followed it up with spicy wasabi peanuts with my sangria.”
I laugh. “I’m surprised you haven’t worn a hole in your stomach by now.”
She guffaws. “It’s always been like this for me. The more stressed I get, the spicier I like my food.” She points to the nightgown I hold. “Not that one. The lavender one, please.”
I know she’s changing the subject. “What has you stressed?”
Ellie crawls like a tiger across the king size bed and arranges the pillows to make a cage. She roars and rakes her claws in the air.
Gram watches her with an affectionate smile. “She has such an imagination.”
I walk toward Gram and hand her the gown. “What has you stressed?” I repeat with emphasis.
She takes the gown and lets her hand drop to her lap. “Much as I love my son, having him move in with me is the last thing I want. Especially with That Woman.”
“Funny you should say that. I was going to ask if you want me to get rid of them. I have no problem sending them packing.”
