by Megyn Ward
“Oh,” she tugs me toward the pool area. “This is my first night here. I want to see the ocean.”
Do I break up with her on the ocean, under the moon’s glow, while the surf washes on shore? Far better to have this memory happen in a generic hotel room. I don’t want her to hate the beach because of this.
“Maybe later.” I stride toward the elevators and if she’s going to stay attached, she’s got to come along.
I punch in the tenth floor and the doors close. At the first lurch of the car, Erika grabs her stomach. “Oh.”
“Are you okay?” I’m alarmed because her face is suddenly pale.
She smiles, then lets out a delicate burp. “Maybe dinner....”
I consider the volume of food she packed away. “Yeah. Maybe you’re full. And the travel and everything.”
She burps again, a sheen of sweat forming on her pasty face. “Probably right. It was so good I just couldn’t stop eating.”
We make it to our floor and when the elevator jerks to settle on the floor she grabs her belly again and clamps her lips. “Errrrrrrr.”
“Erika?”
The doors open and she lunges forward, finally letting go of my arm. With both hands on her knees, she bends over and vomits at the feet of a well-dressed older couple.
Chapter 21
Lauren
I’ve had about the worst day a person could have. The only guy I’ve ever loved, and who I hoped loved me, introduced me to his fiancé.
Fabulous.
The woman I love, my stern, yet doting Gram, is so stressed she’s was whisked to the ER. But that doesn’t stop her from issuing me an eviction notice.
Fucking. Awesome.
I’m wondering if maybe she’s had a stroke somewhere along the line because her reasoning makes no sense. Why the hell would you kick me out on my ear to keep me from being kicked out and left penniless after you die?
Why not just let me continue on and if I’m going to fail, fail later? I want to argue with Gram but what’s the point? She’s made up her mind.
Ellie is like a sack of potatoes in my arms. I guess I’ll put her to bed and try to figure out my next move. There must be something besides selling my paintings or trading on my celebrity.
I make my way through the sitting room to the piazza. The crickets and other night insects aren’t clued in that this isn’t a typical happy night in paradise. They are having their usual noisy party. The tastefully placed lights cast comforting shadows in the familiar and safe compound.
I don’t want to leave this place. Ellie should grow up here, protected and watched over by people who truly love her.
“Liesa,” Simone purrs from the gazebo. “Come join us.”
Lauren. I want to shout but I don’t want to wake Ellie and I don’t have the energy to fight with my mother. In a quiet voice I say, “I’m going to put Ellie to bed.”
Jonas’s big voice bounds from the dark. “It’s early. She shouldn’t have to go to bed yet.”
Asshole.
I don’t bother to answer but keep my pace across the piazza to my bungalow.
I’m not fast enough. Jonas charges from the gazebo. Not realizing I need to run, I don’t. Stupid on my part. I should know better.
Jonas catches up to me and wrenches Ellie from my grip.
I’m so surprised I let it happen instead of holding her to me and kicking him in the balls. “What are you doing?”
He jiggles Ellie enough to wake her and she blinks several times, trying to place herself.
Jonas changes directions and races away, past the gazebo and toward Gram’s house. “Simone, get your shoes and handbag. You too, Liesa. We’re going out for dinner.”
“No.” I race after him. “It’s Ellie’s bedtime. I’ve got to work early tomorrow. We’re going home.”
And P.S., even if it was six o’clock P.M. and I was starving, I wouldn’t go to dinner with you.
Simone is already sauntering past me into the house. “There is that new French bistro in the town center. That would be a casual place we can take a child.”
Ellie brightens, not a good sign. I’m careful not to wake her when she’s had a little bit of sleep. It’s like an inoculation. A half hour sleep will fire her up and she’ll get her second wind and I won’t get her to bed until she self-destructs in a couple of hours. That will lead to her being cranky the next day.
I hold out my arms to Ellie. “Let’s go home. I’ll fix you a grilled cheese.”
“No.” She latches on to Jonas’s neck. “Grandfather is taking me to dinner. I want scallops, not grilled cheese.”
Simone returns. She’s changed into a short silver dress and platform sandals. Seriously, someone needs to teach that woman about age-appropriate dressing. She raises her eyebrows. “Scallops? Pretty rich fare for someone so young.”
Jonas bounces her up and down. “If scallops are what the princess wants, that’s what she’ll get.”
I reach out again to take her. “No. Ellie is going to come home with me.”
This is like one of those fights I made famous on Liesa’s Life. Jonas never acted on the show, but Mother had any number of surrogates and I fought with them all.
Gram appeared in the hallway, her lavender nightgown covered with a soft terry-cloth robe. “You’re making a racket.”
Jonas’s look of regret is so fake I can smell the perfume on it. “I’m so sorry, Mother. We’re on our way out. Can I get you anything before we leave?”
“You can get me some peace and quiet, thank you very much.” She doesn’t make eye contact, simply shuffles by us on the way to the kitchen. Probably after a glass of warm milk, her standard nighttime practice.
She stops in front of me. “You need to go out. It would do Ellie good, too. Quit being such a bother and just go.”
Simone rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to make her do anything she hasn’t planned on doing herself. I should know. I tried for 21 years until I saw the futility in it.”
She didn’t see futility. I quit being the cash cow. That’s the only reason she stepped out of my life. Now I’d love to keep her out. If I had my way, Ellie wouldn’t know either Simone or Jonas.
Gram mutters and I’m sure only I hear her. “I don’t make her do anything. She’s got free will.”
Simone isn’t ready to quit on my shortcomings. “I did everything I could for that girl and she never gave back at all.”
Gram stops. She’s not green and she’s not hunched over a cane, but something about her reminds me of Yoda. She slowly pivots toward us again. “Never gave back.” She repeats Simone’s words back to her.
Gram stares at Simone for several moments. “Hmmm,” Gram says.
Still, Simone glares at Gram with the challenge of a welterweight boxer. “Well, Jonas and I set her up in a lucrative business where she’d never have to worry about money ever again. And what did she do? Kicked us in the teeth.”
Gram looks beat. Her eyes are tired and red, and it seems as if she’s having a hard time keeping her head held high. I’ve never seen Gram slouch but she is close to it. I can’t stand to think that this stupid argument with Simone and Jonas could put more strain on her.
“Fine. Ellie and I will be happy to go to dinner. Thank you.”
“Yay!” Ellie yells in Jonas’s ear and thinking it might have hurt him, it’s the best thing that happened to me all day.
He flinches and a sour look of irritation flits across his face until he corrects and bounces Ellie up and down again. “Scallops for the princess.”
Simone eyes me up and down. “You do have something besides a swimming suit and shorts, I assume?”
I roll my eyes. At least I won’t have to take time to fix my hair. And makeup is something I’d given up along with TV. I want this event over with quickly, so I hurry home, slip into a simple sundress and flip flops and meet them at Gram’s front door.
Jonas had called a cab since his Ferrari can’t hold us all.
The b
est thing about Ellie is that she can carry a conversation. I don’t have to interact much with Jonas and Simone on the drive to the restaurant. Lucky for us, the place isn’t too crowded and we get a table fairly quickly.
Unlucky for me, it’s in the middle of the room. By now, Ellie is getting tired but instead of winding down, I see tell-tale signs of her upping the ante and entering her frantic stage. This isn’t going to be pretty.
The server is a gorgeous girl with dark eyes and a ready smile. Jonas lights up like a Fourth of July cluster rocket. Simone’s eyebrows dip inward and she sets her sights on the girl.
The server is friendly and asks the typical question. “Can I bring you something to drink while you decide on dinner?”
Jonas licks his lips. “What have you got that’s satisfying?”
Simone flattens her lips. “You know what?” she says to the server. “Bring us a bottle of this Merlot.” She points to the wine list. “We’re a close family we’ll keep it between us.”
I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean, except Simone is drunk and trying to be clever about telling the server to back off her man. As if.
I smile at the poor girl who looks confused but has probably figured out to watch out for Simone. “I’ll have a sparkling water with lime,” I say.
Before I can order, Ellie says, “I’ll have a Shirley Temple.”
Ugh. I hate that. She doesn’t know the name of Liesa Temple is taken from that childhood acting legend. “No. Bring her a small milk.”
“Chocolate milk,” Ellie says.
Jonas hoo-haws and slaps the table. “That’s my granddaughter all right. Making deals at three-years-old.” He winks at the server. “Ain’t that something?”
Simone glares at the poor server. “You don’t make deals, do you, darling?”
The server gives me a distressed look.
I roll my eyes to show her that yes, these people are nuts. “Chocolate milk is fine.”
I may not ever have had a real boyfriend, but I’m betting that any relationship that means you can’t trust your guy with a cute waitress is not a relationship worth having. But then, I’m not a desperate, aging woman clawing at some man, any man, to take care of me.
No. You’re a young woman panicked because your grandmother is pulling the plug on supporting you. Who is afraid of being in public and is generally a fucked-up mess.
Between biting remarks to the waitress, gulps of her merlot, and glimpses around the room to assess her effect on everyone, Simone urges Ellie to eat her scallops.
Ellie indeed loves scallops. It’s something we both indulge in whenever we can. I’ve learned to cook up a scrumptious batch myself. But it’s late and she’s being cantankerous.
“I’ll get a cab and we’ll go home. Ellie really needs to get to bed.” I lift my finger to signal to the poor server I need her. I wonder if it’s any good to take the scallops in a box or if they’ll be terrible reheated.
Jonas looks agitated. His eyes are flitting around the room. “Nonsense. You haven’t eaten more than a bite of your crab. Ellie will be fine.” He leans over to her. “Won’t you, princess?”
Ellie folds her arms in that way we all have. “I don’t want to go home.”
Simone nods to her. “Of course you don’t. You take after me. The life of the party.”
I give my mother a sour look. There isn’t a trait I can name that I’d want Ellie to inherit from Simone.
Can we just get out of here without a scene? “Really, it’s best—.”
“Jonas.” I’m interrupted by a booming voice from across the restaurant.
Ellie and I both turn to see a man bearing down on the table like a rhinoceros. I put my arm in front of Ellie as if we’re about to be attacked.
The man thrusts his hand at Jonas and they shake with such enthusiasm I’m afraid either, or both, of their arms might rip off. Simone is beaming.
I’m sure I smell something off. The insistence we go out to dinner. The nervous fidgeting and watching the customers. The reluctance to let me take Ellie home. I know I’m right when Jonas introduces me.
“Liesa, this is Tyrell Carson.”
I don’t put my hand out to shake. Instead, I push my chair back. I growl at Jonas while I reach to lift Ellie from her booster seat. “Lauren.”
Simone’s voice is brittle with false levity. “Tom-ay-to, tom-au-to.”
I’m surprised steam isn’t shooting from my ears. I don’t bother replying to Simone.
Jonas jumps up and puts a hand on my arm. “What’s the problem here? Let’s sit down and finish our dinner.”
I toss the napkin that had been tucked into the collar of Ellie’s shirt. “We’re leaving.”
Simone hisses at me. “Will. You. Sit. Down. People are staring.”
I don’t give a shit who is staring. I’m not letting Ellie near this shark.
Ellie starts to protest, throwing herself from side to side and when I succeed in lifting her to my arms, the booster seat flies off the chair and clatters to the floor. Ellie escalates her words well beyond the bounds of her indoor voice. “Don’t make me go. Help, Grandfather.”
Jonas pats Ellie’s back and I’m trying like hell to get out of there. People are staring and someone is bound to think they recognize the famous Liesa Temple doing what she does, causing a scene in public.
I pivot from Jonas as if he’s an opposing player and Ellie is the basketball he’s after. I shoot my words at Simone. “How could you?”
Simone doesn’t look the least contrite. In fact, she looks angry her plan was thwarted. “How could I do what? Help you out? Find us all a way back into money. Into the spotlight? She’s perfect for this.”
Tyrell Carson stares at this, a look of irritation on his face. “I’m not sure I’m understanding this.” He addresses Jonas. “Did I get something wrong? I hope this isn’t what you have planned for Saturday.”
Jonas laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Tyrell. I assure you, this little princess is perfect. She’s so much more adorable than any Honey Boo-Boo brat.”
I’ve seen billboards and ads all over the island for months. Some new talent show to replace America’s Got Talent or The Voice or something. Auditions must be Saturday and Jonas thinks he’s going to get me to agree to take Ellie. No fucking way.
Ellie is kicking and crying. Part of me is so angry at her for behaving poorly that I’m tempted to shove her into Jonas’s arms and let him have her.
But that’s not even a flitting temptation. I’d protect Ellie from that life if I have to fight everyone in here armed only with a butter knife.
Simone is still sitting, with her drink in her diamond-riddled hand. “Oh, stop being a drama queen. Ellie would love being the center of attention. You did. The only reason you ended it all is because you got knocked up and didn’t want to be fat on TV.”
I have no words for that bullshit. For any of this. Fuck them. Fuck all the people at all the tables with their jaws gaping. Fuck this reality TV director and his smarmy ambition. And if I didn’t have Ellie in my arms and I wasn’t so afraid of being recognized, I would scream FUCK YOU so loud they’d hear me at the beach.
But I’ve got Ellie. That’s all that matters.
Holding her as tightly as I can without hurting her, I plunge through the tables, banging into people. Ellie’s legs kick a glass over and red wine splatters across the tile floor as the glass shatters.
Our server holds the front door for me as I run out. She quietly says, “I’m really sorry,” as I sprint out and start looking for a taxi.
Just before I thrust Ellie into the back seat and climb in after her, the server calls after me. “I really like your hair like that.”
Chapter 22
Blake
I get Erika into the room and call the front desk to alert them to the mess by the elevator. After that, there’s not much to do except help her to the bathroom and hold her hair while she pukes. And pukes. And pukes.
Then, while
she cries and whimpers, I help her back to bed. In another ten minutes, she’s back at it.
Nothing worse than food poisoning. I blame the shrimp. But damn, she’d packed away so much food and it is all coming up.
I can’t break up with her tonight. I am an asshole, but not that big of one.
Around midnight, she finally seems to wind down. A few bouts of that super-gross bile vomit and then she falls into bed.
Tears stream down her face in a tar-like river of mascara. “I’m so sorry Blake. This isn’t what I planned for our reunion.”
I bring her a cool washcloth for her face. “We’ve only been apart for three days. It’s not like we haven’t seen each other for a month.”
Instead of taking the cloth herself, she lays back and sort of commands me to dab her face. She never says a word and yet I feel like her pool boy.
“I know. I just love you so much. I hate being apart from you even when you’re in class. It’s doubly hard at night. I can’t wait until we’re married and we’ll be together all the time.”
I know I sound like a grumbling guy but I’m really sick of her sweet, little girl schtick. “I don’t see how being married would let us be together any more than we are.” I wonder if maybe the reason my grades were so high is because I avoided Erika by hiding in the stacks and studying.
Is that even fair? Until I showed up at Paradise Found, I didn’t know how much I love Lauren and how much I miss everything about her.
That’s not true. You missed her every day. You tried to fill the hole with Erika but you knew she wasn’t right. You didn’t admit to yourself what a mistake you made when you walked away.
Erika begins to cry with tiny sobs. “You’re mad at me. I’m sorry I ate so much and got sick. Please forgive me.”
Oh god. She’s driving me crazy. But she didn’t fake all that ralphing. She’s got to be feeling like crap. “I’m not mad at you. Try to get some rest and we’ll talk in the morning.”
