Chasing Daniel

by Nia Arthurs

  “Thank you.” I bite down on my lip so my goofy grin doesn’t take over my face.

  Danny kneels in front of me.

  My eyes widen. “Danny, what are you doing?”

  I mean, I’ve been in love with him for years, but that doesn’t mean I want to rush to the altar. The plans that I made before Danny and I started dating are still important to me.

  “Your shoes.” He takes one foot in his hand and sets it gently in his lap. Then his hands climb over the skin of my ankle as he straps me up.

  A shiver runs up my frame.

  Oh-ho, this man is dangerous.

  Danny feels me trembling and looks up, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He knows what he’s doing to me.

  The jerk.

  I tuck my hands under my dress and sit on them, restraining myself from doing something stupid. I picture jumping out of the car, knocking him back and kissing him right in the middle of the street.

  Cool it, Gwen.

  Danny sets my foot down and then takes the other shoe, pulling the strap through the buckle. His thumb caresses my skin and my belly flops over.

  Damn, those calloused hands.

  When he’s done, he looks up and smirks, one side of his lip tilted higher than the other. “You ready to go?”

  “Come here.” I grab his tie and pull him in. Our lips collide. I waste no time opening up to him. My eyes flutter closed. His hand falls on my thigh. He rubs circles there too.

  A fire builds, starting in my lower half and flooding every inch of me.

  I pull back first because I’m very close to combustion and I don’t want my parents to see that.

  It’s crazy how attracted I am to him.

  “No more romantic gestures, Danny, or I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” I reach over to wipe my lipstick from his face.

  He brings my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it instead. “I’m counting on it.”

  Danny closes my door and then rounds the hood to jump into the driver’s side.

  We arrive at the Bellmore Hotel in record time. The place is packed. Asians. Are. Everywhere.

  Did they invite the entire Belize Asian Association or something?

  On the bright side, there are so many people waddling through the doors that Danny and I fly in undetected.

  The garden is filled with beautiful white chairs and red decorations. The scene-stealer is a wooden arch that hovers behind the pastor. It’s a stunning setup. I hope Mei An is happy.

  Danny helps me into my seat. We stare straight ahead, waiting for the ceremony to start.

  Ten minutes pass.

  Fifteen.

  Twenty.

  “You think something happened?” Danny asks, glancing at his watch. “We were supposed to start thirty minutes ago.”

  “Nah. Belizean weddings always start late.”

  “Yeah, but not Chinese weddings.” Danny cranes his neck to look behind him at the hotel doors. “I wonder what’s going on?”

  At that moment, a man in a three-piece suit runs out of the hotel and bends over to whisper in a woman’s ear. I think she’s Richie’s mother. To be honest, the elders all kind of look alike to me.

  I’m debating whether that statement is racist or not when the woman shoots to her feet and glares daggers at the messenger. “What? Where is he then?”

  Danny curses.

  I hold my breath as her words play over in my mind.

  Scandalized whispers skitter through the garden.

  The groom is missing, they say.

  Did Richie run away from his wedding?

  22 Danny

  It’s the case of the runaway groom. No one knows where Richie is. He didn’t leave a hint, a note, a text. Nothing. Aunt Dina is making a fuss in the hotel room where her son was supposed to be getting ready.

  It’s… total chaos.

  “Call the police,” she wails. “Call the Department of National Security. Just find my son!”

  “We will find him,” Dad says. He’s wearing a white shirt with black suspenders and black pants. Dad always dresses humbly. He takes after Yeye that way.

  “When? It’s been an hour already? People are leaving!”

  “We must stay calm. Has anyone tried calling him?” Dad asks.

  “It goes straight to voicemail.”

  “There must be a way to track his phone or something?” My uncle runs trembling hands over his balding head. He’s a short man with a round face and tan skin. If not for his eyes, most people wouldn’t guess he was Asian.

  A knock sounds at the door. Another one of my uncles walks in. He bows and then says, “Yeye is asking for an update. What do we tell him?”

  Aunt Dina chews on her thumbnail. “Oh, this is a disaster. What could Richie be thinking?”

  “Maybe the pressure got to him. I know I couldn’t even eat a thing before my wedding.” Mom shakes her head and offers her sister-in-law a napkin. “Stop crying, Dina. You’ll ruin your makeup.”

  Aunt Dina flounces into the sofa bracketing the wall of the suite. “What does it matter if we have to call off the wedding?”

  “We won’t call off the wedding,” Dad says. “Danny?”

  I straighten. “Yes, sir?”

  “Get all your male cousins together and go search for Richie. Look in all his favorite places. Think of anywhere he would run to. He was just here an hour ago. He couldn’t have gotten far.”

  Wrong. Richie could be anywhere in Belize by now.

  Mom peers at me. “You two were close, right?”

  “Well…”

  “Keep calling. He might answer someone his own age.”

  “Ah, my son!” Aunt Dina screams and clutches her heart. The huge rock on her finger—a gift from my uncle on their twentieth wedding anniversary—glitters in the sunlight. She wrinkles the material of her golden dress as she leans forward and cries, “My son!”

  “Be quiet!” her husband hisses.

  “No!” Aunt Dina snaps. She juts a thick finger at him. Her elaborate bun comes undone as she wiggles her head. “This is your fault! I told you not to get a girl from the province, but you insisted! Now Richie rejected her and he’s bringing shame on all of us!”

  “We can blame each other later.” Dad nods at me. “Danny, go.”

  I sprint out of the room, happy to get away from Aunt Dina’s weeping. It was giving me a headache.

  My gaze catches on the door across the hall. Gwen insisted I take her to Mei An even though I warned her my sister and other female cousins were taking care of her. The steel in Gwen’s eyes told me she could handle it.

  I should check to see how she’s doing.

  I venture close to the door and knock. “Gwen?”

  The door opens a smidge and Emily pokes her head through. Surprise shines in her eyes when she sees me. “Danny? What are you doing here?” She lowers her voice and asks hopefully, “Did you find Richie?”

  I shake my head.

  “Oh.” Her shoulders hunch over like she’s a balloon about to deflate.

  “How’s she holding up?”

  Emily smirks. “Mei An or your girlfriend?”

  I cough. “Gwen told you?”

  “Yes, she did.” Emily wiggles her eyebrows. “Nice going, bro. I like her.”

  “I like her more than you.” I grin softly. “And Mei An?”

  “She’s heartbroken.” Emily’s expression shifts to a frown. “I feel so bad for her. She came all this way only to be treated like crap. I hope Richie has a good reason for doing this.”

  “I’m going out to find him now.”

  “Do you have any idea where he might be?” she asks.

  “No, but I plan on searching everywhere.” I glance over her head. Through the small space between the open door, I see the back of a long, white veil and slender, pale shoulders.

  Young women surround the bride, but there’s only one pop of brown skin amidst my cousins’ lily-white complexions.

  “Can you call Gwen for me?”r />
  “Why? Do you need a kiss before you go on your dangerous mission?”

  “Em.”

  “Sorry. I’m just happy for you. A black girl, huh? That’s brave.”

  I stick my tongue out. “Thanks for the encouragement. Could you just get, Gwen?”

  “One girlfriend coming right up!” Em closes the door.

  I turn away, one hand raking through the hair I gelled to perfection this morning. A part of me feels responsible for this.

  I knew Richie didn’t want to get married.

  I knew he was into Gwen.

  Instead of helping him break free and encouraging him to do what would make him happy, I threatened him. Forced him into following the family order. Pretty much pushed him to the edge.

  I am a horrible person.

  “Hey, Danny,” a soft voice says. “Have you found Richie yet?”

  I spin and drink in the sight of Gwen in that fitted green dress. It hugs every curve and puts those beautifully thick thighs on display. Her heels raise her right at the level of my chest. Her brown eyes are ringed with something dark that makes her look even more exotic.

  “No.” I tear my eyes away. Right now, I feel too guilty to look at her.

  Gwen walks right up to me and clutches my chin, lifting my head. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Danny…” There’s a warning in her tone.

  “It’s just… Richie, in his own way, told me how much he didn’t want this marriage, but I didn’t listen. I threatened him instead. Now he’s missing. He might even be in trouble and—” My throat closes up as I remember my sister.

  Cam felt undone by the pressure, and she came to me. I brushed her anxiety off to moodiness and hormones. Mental illness is only whispered about in our culture. I didn’t know what depression looked like. I didn’t care.

  I didn’t care.

  I made the same mistake again.

  “It’s not your fault.” Gwen’s gaze is as firm as her voice. “Where there’s life, there’s hope, remember? I believe Richie’s alive. He has to be. Now turn all that guilt into action and find him.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “Go. I’ll be fine.”

  “You sure?” I wince. “If anyone says anything…”

  “I’ve got thick skin.” She reaches up and kisses my cheek. “Tell Richie he owes his bride an apology.”

  “I will.” I squeeze her hand. “Thanks, Gwen.”

  She gives me a smile that leaves my mouth dry. “I’ll see you later.”

  I take one last look at her and then stride down the hallway. Drew and Jackson meet me the moment I burst into the hotel lobby. Their faces are pale and screwed in worry.

  Jackson reaches out and clamps a hand on my shoulder. “What is the family saying?”

  “Will the wedding be cancelled?” Drew wipes his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief.

  “We need to find him. That’s our priority.”

  “Where do we look?”

  I rub my temple. “I doubt he’d go back home. That’s the first place anyone would think to check, but let’s make sure anyway. There’s his favorite bar. The park. We’ll scour the entire city if we have to.”

  “I’m in.” Drew slips his car keys from his pants pocket.

  Jackson nods. “I’ll take the bar.”

  Drew starts running. “I’ll take the house.”

  “I’ll drive around,” I add.

  With no real destination in mind, I elbow my way through the confused wedding guests milling in the lobby and race to my car. My fingers curve around the steering wheel and I take a shuddering breath.

  I push the guilt away. Gwen was right. All that matters is finding my cousin. Alive.

  It’s Saturday afternoon, so the traffic is thick. I tap my thumb against the steering wheel and focus on the scenery creeping past my window.

  Downtown Belize City is filled with coconut trees and colorful buildings. Cyclists pedal their bikes, weaving through traffic like they own the street. Pedestrians dressed in shorts and cool tank tops peruse the shops lining the boulevard.

  I wait impatiently until I can make a turn and take the back street to the park downtown. There, I press on the gas while sweeping my gaze across the expanse of the city.

  Unless Richie checked into a hotel or bought a ticket out of the country, his choices for refuge are limited. I’m almost confident he didn’t leave.

  Wherever he is, we’ll find him.

  My phone rings while I’m trying to fit my car into a parking space in front of the Belize City Park. I let the call go to voicemail and then pick up my phone when I’ve shut the engine. A text notification bounces on my screen.

  JACKSON: Bartender hasn’t seen Richie all day

  Drew calls me again. I pick up. “Hey, any luck?”

  “Nothing. He’s not at his house. I asked the neighbors if they saw anything. It was a dead end. Where should I go next?”

  “Try other bars, parks, landmarks, anywhere that would look appealing to a man who ran away from his wedding.”

  Drew snorts. “You say that like I should have an idea how that feels.”

  “Put yourself in his shoes.”

  “Fine.” Drew sighs. “I’ll call you if I find anything.”

  I hang up and keep on going. Soon, the Caribbean Sea appears. Huge rocks and a sea wall painted a bright shade of blue hold the sea back. Cobblestones litter the path, making the stretch a popular place for tourists to take pictures.

  I slow my car down as I cruise past the Baron Bliss Lighthouse. A black gate and a sign detailing the benefactor’s contributions to the country surround the large structure. Locals mingling and drinking around the landmark stop and eye me suspiciously.

  I must look like some kind of Asian mafia boss.

  Nervously, I wind my window up and press on the gas.

  A few miles ahead, I spot a man sitting on the edge of the sea wall. The wind buffets his shirt so it billows like a white flag. The familiar shape of his head and the color of his hair make me slam on the brakes.

  Richie?

  I throw my door open and climb out, jogging up the slight incline to the sea wall. The blue horizon blends into the sea. The waves flow peacefully, in no hurry to get to any particular place.

  My gaze skims the beer bottles next to Richie. Most of them are empty.

  My shoes crunch against loose pebbles. Richie stiffens and turns his head slightly. Our eyes don’t meet, but he recognizes me.

  “You came quicker than I thought,” he says, putting the bottle to his lips and drinking deeply.

  “Richie, we can talk later. First, let’s get in the car and I’ll take you back—”

  “Are you crazy?” Richie spins, swaying so deeply I rush to the sea wall to steady him.

  “You okay?”

  Richie yanks his arm away. His elbow saws through the beer bottles. They teeter and hurtle to the rocky outcropping below, shattering into a hundred pieces.

  “I can’t do it, Danny. I can’t get married to her.”

  “Is this about Gwen?” I step back, afraid of his answer.

  “Yesterday,” Richie slurs, “when that gun went off, my life flashed before my eyes. I didn’t like what I saw. I can’t get married like this.” He sobs. “I don’t want to.”

  “Okay.”

  Richie hiccups. “O-kay?”

  “Let’s go back to the hotel. We’ll talk to the elders together.”

  “They’ll disown me.”

  “Then at least you’ll be free.”

  Richie studies my face for a long moment. At last, he swings his legs around and hops away from the wall. “I guess. I have nothing left to lose.”

  23 Gwen

  Mei An sniffs as Danny’s cousins urge her to change out of her wedding dress. The gown is a lovely white creation with delicate beading on the hem and a bell-shaped bottom. It fits her like a glove. With her big brown eyes and slim figure, she looks more like a doll than a human.
>
  “He’s not coming,” Lisa—a beautiful girl with a short bob and gorgeous eyes—rubs Mei An’s back.

  Lisa’s sister—I forgot her name but she’s just as beautiful and exotic as everyone else in this room—translates in Chinese.

  I’m grateful for the pops of English in their sentences since the Chinese words fly way over my head.

  The atmosphere in the bridal suite is subdued. Hope was a thread as fragile as the string of beads on Mei An’s dress, but all the girls held on to it desperately. Now, two hours later, reality has made its mark.

  Richie’s not coming.

  Even if he shows up in the next few minutes, most of the guests are gone and the elders are furious.

  The wedding is off.

  I put my hand over Mei An’s as she passes me by. “It’ll be okay.”

  She responds with a nod, her long veil bobbing behind her head.

  “Come on, honey,” Lisa says.

  Mei An slips into the connecting suite, surrounded by a swarm of Danny’s cousins. I hear their mournful murmurs until the last one enters and closes the door.

  Alone for a minute, I plop into the sofa and shuck my shoes off. They plod to the floor. Anger zips through me. I can’t believe Richie skipped out on the wedding like this.

  If he’d been having second thoughts, he should have told his family right away instead of dragging Mei An into this mess.

  I groan and fling an arm over my eyes. “I have a headache.”

  “Here you go.” A water bottle is shoved under my nose.

  I glance up and find Emily—Danny’s sister—in front of me. “Thanks.” I accept the water from her and crack the lid. It opens with a snap.

  Emily sinks into the chair across from me. She’s a gorgeous woman with silky black hair, trim eyebrows and dainty facial features. While Danny screams ‘manly man’, his sister is the definition of a ‘lady’.

  Emily’s sharp, almond-shaped eyes study me. “Did you ever think Chinese weddings could be so exciting?”

  “I was looking forward to a jam-packed day, but no… I didn’t imagine anything like this.”

  Emily dangles her water bottle between her fingers. “Were you nervous?”

  “About what?”

  “Coming to the wedding. Introducing yourself to the elders.” She grins, a hint of mischief in her expression. When she smiles like that, I start to see the family resemblance. Danny does the same thing when he thinks he’s being sly.