“And he did,” she confirmed. “The Dantès character was so fixated on revenge that it nearly destroyed him.”
“Don’t you think he was justified seeking revenge once he realized his best friend had not only deceived him but also, with the assistance of the chief prosecutor, had him exiled to a prison where he would spend the remainder of his life? And the love he’d felt for his fiancée, Mercédès, also died once he learned she’d married his betrayer a month after he’d been exiled.”
“I’ll admit thirteen years spent in solitary confinement, eating slop and being beaten every year on the anniversary of his imprisonment, is enough to change a man into someone subhuman,” Kayana said, rationalizing the change in Edmond Dantès’s personality.
“So you agree with his plan to enact revenge on those he deemed his enemies.”
“It’s not that I agree, Graeme, but I understand his motivation to right the wrongs. Armed with the knowledge given him by the imprisoned priest in the Château d’If and the treasure he found on the Isle of Monte Cristo, he had the resources and, more importantly, the power needed to bring those to justice.”
“He could’ve been like Michael Corleone in The Godfather, who settled all his debts with murder.”
“He could have, but Edmond Dantès as the Count of Monte Cristo was much more skillful, because he used his victim’s flaws to strip them of what they valued most. Everyone and everything had become a means to an end for Dantès once he executed his plan for revenge.
At what cost, Graeme? Do you really believe exacting revenge on his enemies brought him happiness?”
“No. But he did derive satisfaction knowing he had power over them.”
“Why are men always fixated on power?”
“Not all men, Kayana. When Dumas recognized that Dantès’s thirst for vengeance and absolute power was going to corrupt him absolutely—to the point where his moral sense threatened to destroy him—he had Mercédès admit that she had been pregnant with his child before he was imprisoned, and it was the reason she’d rushed to marry Mondego. And the instant he discovers Albert is his son and not Mondego’s, everything changes for Edmond, and he is ready to forgive even Mondego for his treachery.”
“Are you saying he redeemed himself because he was ready to offer Mondego mercy?” she questioned Graeme.
“Yes, but Mondego didn’t want mercy because he couldn’t live knowing someone he deemed beneath him when it came to social status had everything he’d always wanted. Engaging in a duel with Edmond and hopefully killing him would assuage his jealousy, but in the end, he had become the loser.”
Kayana recalled the book ending differently and knew she would have to read it again to familiarize herself with characters and scenes that did not appear in the film. “I find it amazing that plays, novels, and poems written thousands of years ago are still being read today. The Iliad is purported to have been written around the eighth century B.C.”
“There is nothing more powerful than the written word. It has imprisoned and freed men.”
Kayana shifted slightly, staring at Graeme’s profile as he focused on the road. “If Edmond Dantès hadn’t been illiterate, he wouldn’t have been imprisoned in the Château d’If for thirteen years. And slaves would’ve gained their freedom long before the Emancipation Proclamation if they hadn’t been prohibited from learning to read.”
“How true, Kayana.”
Graeme’s voice seemed to have come from a long way off, despite his sitting less than a foot away from her, and the return trip to Coates Island was completed in complete silence, with each person lost in their own thoughts. However, Kayana had to admit she’d enjoyed the time they had spent together. Graeme’s disclosure that his parents were college professors was a clear indication that he’d had a life of privilege growing up in Boston and summering in Newburyport. And he wasn’t impoverished, as evidenced by the fact that he drove a state-of-the art luxury SUV with a starting price of just under one hundred thousand dollars. Rumors swirled around the island that not only had he offered cash for the elderly widow’s house, but he had also paid a contractor to gut and update it with monies he would’ve had to save for years from his teacher’s salary.
“Which movie would you like to see next?” he asked.
“Probably Les Misérables.”
“That’s not showing for three weeks.”
“I’ll be ready for another movie by that time. Don’t forget I work every day, and I have only a week to finish reading a book before the book club meets on Sundays.”
“I won’t buy the tickets until you let me know whether you’re able to go.”
Kayana didn’t want to consciously compare Graeme to her ex-husband when it came to compromise. If she’d told James that she didn’t want to host a small gathering at the house, he’d invariably ignore her, and their home would resemble a sports bar or an airport terminal, depending on the number of invitees. All she’d wanted was at least two weekends a month when she could enjoy her home without playing hostess to a group of what she deemed strangers because they weren’t her friends and family members, but James’s.
Graeme eschewed arguments like the one he’d had with his wife before her death, while Kayana avoided verbal confrontation because of what she’d witnessed and overheard between her parents. Most times, she was able to escape between the pages of a book until they called a truce. Derrick would leave the house and shoot baskets into the hoop at the back of the house, while Jocelyn spent more time with their grandmother than she did with her mother. Even at an early age, Kayana had promised herself she would never fight with her husband, as her mother had done with hers, and the result was that James had taken her acquiescence for weakness. Early on when they were dating, she’d warned him that cheating would abruptly end their relationship; however, he must have forgotten or totally disregarded it as an idle threat when sleeping with a woman other than his wife.
“If you want to see it, then please don’t wait for me if I’m unable to go.”
“I’d rather wait for you, because if I go alone, I won’t have you to talk about it with.”
“Aren’t there other women you could ask to be your date?”
“No.”
“Why not, Graeme? You’re a decent guy, so I’m certain quite a few women would love hanging out with you.”
Throwing back his head, Graeme laughed loudly. “That’s the nicest backhanded compliment I’ve ever had.”
“I didn’t mean for it to sound backhanded. You are a nice guy.”
He inclined his head. “Well, thank you.”
“No, Graeme. Thank you for an enjoyable evening.”
“It’s not over yet. Not until you meet Barley. I’d like to ask you something, and you don’t have to answer if you choose not to.”
A shiver of apprehension nagged at Kayana; at the same time, she wondered what Graeme was going to ask her that could possibly ruin the evening, with her telling him it would be the first and last time she would agree to go out with him. She hadn’t had an actual male friend in years. The last one was a fellow grad student. Since interacting with Graeme, she had begun to think of him as a friend. And despite Derrick’s assessment that Graeme was staring at her with his tongue hanging out, not once had he demonstrated he wanted more from her than friendship.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Am I the first man you’ve gone out with since your divorce?”
The tense lines ringing her mouth relaxed at the same time she exhaled an inaudible breath. “Yes. Why did you ask?”
“I need to know if you intend to punish me for the sins of another man.”
Reaching over, Kayana covered his hand gripping the steering wheel with hers. “No. I know very little about you, and from what I’ve seen, I can honestly say you’re not anything like my ex-husband.”
She wanted to tell Graeme that he and James were as different as night and day in physical appearance and temperament. Jam
es becoming a renowned Atlanta-based trauma surgeon wasn’t enough for him. He had to surrounded himself with people who made him the center of attention, and his beautiful home and intelligent, talented wife were tangible symbols of his so-called perfect life.
“Thank, you,” Graeme said, reversing their hands and giving Kayana’s fingers a gentle squeeze.
He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he’d felt the constriction in his chest. It had taken all of his resolve to conduct himself like the quintessential perfect gentleman; he hadn’t come on to her and therefore ruined a possible relationship before it could begin. After all, he wasn’t a horny adolescent boy looking to score with a girl willing to put out. Been there. Done that. As a child and young adult, he’d traveled extensively with his parents, and as a college student, he’d sown his wild oats. As a bachelor, he continued to date different women until he woke up in bed with one whose name he could not remember. That’s when he knew he had to become more discriminating.
Decelerating, he drove down the street leading to his home and came to a stop under the carport. He’d programmed lights to come on and go off at different times of the day. A security company had installed hidden cameras and motion detectors to protect the perimeter of the property and the contents of the house. The structure was far enough from the beachfront for it not to be erected on stilts, and he’d become accustomed to waking up in the two-story, two-bedroom, two-bath bungalow with a screened-in porch and second-story verandas with unrestricted views of the beach and ocean.
Graeme got out and came around to assist Kayana down. “Are you ready to meet the boss?”
“Yes.”
A chime echoed throughout the house until he disarmed the security system, and Barley raced to the door, whining and going up on his hind legs for Graeme to pick him up. “Have you been a good boy?” he crooned. Barley barked as if he understood what he’d said. “I have a friend I’d like you to meet.” Bending slightly, he scooped up the poodle, cradling him to his chest.
* * *
Kayana could not pull her gaze away from the tiny, curly, sand-colored puppy snuggling against Graeme’s chest as he stared back at her. “What a bundle of cuteness. Will he let me hold him?”
“Hold out your hands and see if he’ll come to you.”
She extended her hands, and Barley sniffed her before her fingers closed around his chubby middle. Kayana luxuriated in his warmth and slight weight, and she lowered her head and kissed an ear. “Hey, baby boy. Do you want to come home with me tonight?”
“No, he doesn’t,” Graeme snapped.
Her head popped up. “Chill, Graeme. I was just kidding.” She glared at him until he lowered his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
“I can understand you being possessive, because this little guy is definitely precious.”
Graeme managed to look sheepish. “I suppose I overacted because he normally won’t let anyone other than myself hold him. Usually he’s squirming and nipping until they put him down.”
Kayana rocked him gently as if attempting to console a fretful child. “He knows that I’m partial to poodles. I got a poodle–bichon mix puppy for my tenth birthday, and we were inseparable. He howled every morning when I left to go to school and greeted me with somersaults once I got home. After I left for college, my sister took him for a walk, and he must have eaten something that made him sick. He didn’t survive the night, and I didn’t find out that my baby was gone until a week later when I came home for the Christmas break. Not having him there to greet me when I walked through the door ruined the entire holiday for me. That’s when I said I never wanted another pet.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Graeme’s expression grew serious. “It’s never easy losing something you love.”
Kayana wanted to ask if he meant someone and not something, and she wondered if he hadn’t gotten over the loss of his wife. “Everyone and everything with breath has an expiration date.”
He blinked as if coming out of a trance. “You’re right.” He forced a smile. “It’s getting late, and I know you usually get up early, so I’d better take you home.”
She set Barley on the shiny wood floor. The entryway with a staircase leading to the second story opened out into an open continuous floor plan with living/family/dining rooms and a spacious stainless-steel kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances. She wondered if Graeme had selected the furnishings or had hired a professional decorator.
“The next time you come over, I promise to give you a tour of the house,” he said, as if he had read her mind.
She smiled. “I’m going to hold you to that promise.”
It took less than three minutes for Graeme to drive from his house to the restaurant. He got out and waited with her as she unlocked the rear door and disabled the alarm. An overhead light at the bottom of the staircase threw shadows over his face.
Kayana extended her hand. “Thank you for a most enjoyable evening.”
Graeme stared at her hand before taking it, bringing it to his mouth, and pressing a kiss on her inner wrist. “The pleasure has been all mine. Good night, Kay.”
She felt a shiver of awareness snake up her arm with the slight pressure of his mouth on her skin. “Good night, Graeme.”
He released her hand, and she closed the door, shutting out the image of the man who had her wanting to see him again because of their shared passion: books.
* * *
Graeme returned home and walked Barley for the final time that day. The puppy trotted after him as he walked into his bedroom and changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. “I’m not ready to go to bed,” he said when the dog looked up at him. “I’m going to do a little writing before I turn in for the night. By the way, should I be concerned that you have something going with Miss Johnson?” He smiled when Barley tilted his head from side to side. “I know she’s pretty and smells good, but I want you to remember that I saw her first.”
Graeme knew if someone had overheard him talking to his dog, they would’ve thought he’d taken leave of his senses. But he would be the first one to admit that there was something about Kayana that kept him slightly off balance, although she hadn’t given him the slightest indication she wanted more than friendship, while he was more interested in her because at this time in his life he craved companionship more than sex. He wanted to have a relationship with a woman with whom he could share similar interests and have spirited but intelligent conversations about a myriad of topics.
The year he’d summered on Coates Island, Graeme felt as if he’d come home. There was something about the quaint seaside town that offered him the peace he’d sought the year he celebrated his eighth birthday, when Patrick and Lauren Ogden revealed they weren’t his biological parents. Unable to have children of their own, they’d gotten him through a private adoption. His birth mother was a linguistics major at Boston College who’d been sleeping with a married man. When she told Lauren about the affair and her plan to give birth and leave the baby in the hospital, Lauren offered to adopt the baby.
Graeme had spent years wondering about the woman who could carry him to term, then hand him over to someone else to raise, but as he matured, he knew she had done the right thing because Patrick and Lauren were the best parents a child could wish for. His mother tended to be overindulgent, while his father was more the disciplinarian who’d insisted on setting up boundaries he was forbidden to cross. The few times he did challenge Patrick, he was forced to give up his car for a month and take public transportation to and from the campus.
Coates Island also permitted him distance from Newburyport—where the good, and some bad, memories of what he’d shared with Jillian still lingered. She reminded him of a cat who would permit him to stroke her and then, without warning, would turn on him, hissing, spitting, her luminous green eyes giving off angry sparks that left him wondering why he had fallen in love with and married her.
Within his
first two weeks on the island, he’d stopped wondering who his birth mother was, and why he’d married Jillian. Walking along the sand while inhaling the distinctive smell of saltwater and returning to the bungalow to write were better than sitting on a therapist’s couch and baring his soul.
Fast-forward a year; he’d retired from teaching and had become a permanent resident, and he now had the option of staying on the island once the vacationers left when the summer season ended. By that time, he would’ve completed his current manuscript, the Seaside Café would resume their regular off-season hours, and hopefully he and Kayana would be able to spend more time together.
Chapter 10
Kayana had just finished chopping the ingredients for the trays of potato, macaroni, and pasta salads when the rear door opened and Derrick walked into the kitchen. He attempted to conceal a yawn with his hand. “Late night, brother love?” she teased.
“Yeah. The game was in San Francisco and went into extra innings.”
“What time did it finally end?”
“It was after three on the East Coast.”
“Why didn’t you DVR the game and watch it later?”
Derrick washed his hands in one of the prep sinks, dried them on a bar towel, and covered his head with the cap he only wore when cooking. “That’s no fun because I’d already know the score. I need to see it live.”
“I can’t believe you’re still a sports junkie.”
Derrick narrowed his eyes at her as he slipped a bibbed apron over his head and secured the ties around his waist. “I could be addicted to worse things.”
“True.” Some of the boys she’d gone to high school with on the mainland had dabbled in drugs before becoming full-blown addicts. A few had overdosed, and others had resorted to a life of crime to support their habit, while the lucky ones went into treatment to regain control of their lives.
“By the way, how was your date with Graeme last night?”
Kayana wasn’t going to debate with Derrick whether her going to the movies with Graeme was a date, because he’d spotted her coming down the staircase wearing a dress and makeup. His expression was impassive when he mentioned Graeme’s name, and she nodded.
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