by Nia Arthurs
The sunlight dances over the shabby brown carpet stained with puke and spilled beer. The ratty couches came in a set for the incredible price of zero dollars. Whoever threw these babies out is an idiot. Apart from the TV on the stand, there’s no other furniture.
“Take a shower.”
I glare at Hannah. She’s thirty-four, but she’s got the trim, pert body my dad enjoys in younger women. Hannah’s also a lawyer, which means Dad’s in heaven. He gets the brainy type in the body type he always wanted.
“Do you like me, Hannah?” I sway as I try to get to my feet. The room is spinning. I stagger to the right, struggling to find my balance before I crash. “Is that why you’re always in my business? You want to have a dirty, scandalous affair?”
“If I wanted a bum, I’d go back to my ex-husband.” She picks up the bucket and tosses empty beer cans in it. “And according to the rumors, you’re not a fun date anyway. So I’ll pass.”
I stiffen at her words. It’s not my fault that no woman can capture and keep my attention. I used to play around, having sex with any female that breathed and looked halfway decent. But all that lifestyle got me was crabs and a whole lotta emptiness.
Now I steer clear of women in general.
Hannah groans. “Your place is a pigsty, Theo. Why do you live like this?”
“What’s not to like?”
“Go. Shower.”
My head is splitting in two. When I stumble into the bathroom, I grab the toilet rim and spill my guts. I attended wild parties in college, but nothing back then wrecked me the way I’m wrecking myself right now.
My downward spiral started six years ago, the day I walked into an empty room in the basement of my father’s San Pedro hotel. It’s only gotten worse. I have to figure myself out, but I’d rather numb my heart with booze than face the pain.
“Are you showering?” Hannah knocks on the door. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
I pull myself off the floor and peel out of my clothes. They land in a heap at my feet. The water is warm over my shoulders. A miracle. Normally, my neighbors use up all the warm water and I’m left shivering in the tub.
When I step out of the bathroom with a towel over my waist, I find a pair of pressed black slacks and a white shirt on the bed in my room. Hannah has no sense of propriety. Did I give her permission to come in here?
I bite my tongue and dress. The tie is a struggle so I ball it up and toss it on the bed. I walk into my now cleaner living room that still looks shabby and raise my arms for Hannah’s inspection. “You happy?”
“Look at you,” she coos like I’m a dog in a tracksuit. “Now you seem like the heir of a hotel chain. Hold still let me take a picture.”
I run my hand over my short beard. It took me seven months to grow this thing. I’m glad Hannah isn’t riding me to cut it off. “We’ll take enough pictures at the hotel. Should we leave?”
“Wait. Where’s your tie?”
“In my room. It’s too complicated to put on.”
“I’ll do it for you.”
I sigh and trudge to my bedroom, returning with the tie. Hannah is waiting for me when I get back. She purses her red lips and concentrates as she wraps the tie around my neck and creates a knot. “Didn’t your father teach you to do this when you were younger?”
“Nope.” I could tell her that Dad was too busy wining and dining women so he had no time to pay attention to me, but Hannah’s going out of her way and the least I can do is be kind and not remind her of the long string of women before her.
She swings the end around the knot. “You’re a smart kid, Theo. What happened that turned you this way?”
Sunni’s face flashes in my mind. My heart pangs. After six years, my body still yearns for her. I hate thinking about Sunni when I’m drunk. I hate it even more when I’m sober. “We should leave. Dad’ll want you there early.”
“I’ll leave after you brush your teeth.”
I roll my eyes but trod back to the bathroom to do as she asks. My reflection in the mirror annoys me. Dressed up in this penguin suit, I look just like my father. It’s offensive. I was hoping the beard would set me apart, but all I can see in the mirror is Trevor Neives.
My mood continues to sour as Hannah leads me downstairs and we jump into her luxury sedan. My father enjoys giving his girlfriends extravagant gifts, but something tells me Hannah could have bought this truck with her own money if she wanted to.
I turn and stare outside the window, watching Belize roll by. The differences between the mainland and the island are subtle. During lunch and after work, it feels like everyone in Belize City owns a vehicle. But at this time of day, the streets are relatively clear.
A cyclist pedals down the sidewalk. A group of teenagers chat and laugh. They’re dressed in white uniforms with colorful ties representing their classes. Taxi men lounge against a shack, some smoking and others playing dominoes.
Coconut tree leaves wave in the breeze. The trees grow uninhibited, like tall, grappling weeds. Colorful houses with zinc fences are planted in neat rows. Children play in an inflatable swimming pool. It’s a scorching day. I envy them.
“We’re here,” Hannah says. I stare straight ahead at the massive building towering over the public park next door. It boasts ten stories, a swimming pool, and plans for a casino, arcade and bowling alley.
The Belize City hotel was a massive undertaking. Dad invested millions, hoping to cash in on the thousands of tourists that visit Belize City every summer. Today the place is crawling with press and invited dignitaries.
Hannah clamps her hand on my elbow and pastes a polite smile on her face as we walk inside. She looks like a doting stepmother, but she’s just holding on to me so I don’t run.
Our shoes clack against the mosaic tiles. The foyer is large and bright, decorated in gold. Plush red chairs fill the waiting area. Workers dressed in sharp, green suits stalk past, carrying luggage on golden carts.
“It looks nice, right?” Hannah whispers.
I nod. The hotel here reminds me of the one back in San Pedro. The reason I left that island in the first place was so I could be free of Sunni’s ghost. After she left, I saw her everywhere—in my room, in the swimming pool, in the gift shop. I had to get away.
Even when I returned from college, I made my home in Belize City rather than torture myself with the memories waiting back on the island.
“Look, there’s your father.” Hannah points to a tall man shaking hands with a politician. The two pause for a picture and then laugh. The joke probably isn’t that funny, but Dad has a secret power. He can fool people into thinking he cares.
It doesn’t work on me though.
“Hannah, Theo!” Dad grins. His brown eyes glitter when Hannah reaches over and kisses his cheek. His acting is too good. I can’t tell if he’s serious about this one. He’d be a fool to let Hannah go though.
“Dad.” I dip my head.
“Nice of you to show up.” There’s steel behind his words, a hint of scolding in his gaze.
“Let’s play nice, guys.” Hannah grins and links her arms with ours, connecting the three of us. “Cameras are watching.”
We pose for a few pictures and then Dad leads us into a smaller room. There are two double doors in the wall leading to the conference room. Just beyond those doors, his employees are scurrying to make last minute arrangements before the opening ceremonies.
Dad studies me. His thick eyebrows are drawn, and the gruff expression that becomes a permanent fixture whenever we’re together descends. “What are you doing with your time, boy? You haven’t shown up to the island once in two years.”
I sink into a chair and hold my chin. The one thing I hate more than playing dress up for these ridiculous occasions is when Dad calls me ‘boy’. The word is completely devoid of affection and is just a reminder that we’re on two separate levels of power.
“Trevor,” Hannah jumps in, “the hotel looks amazing. I can’t imagine how much stress you went throug
h to get everything ready. Forget all your worries and enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”
“Thank you.” He spears me another look but lets the matter rest for now. Hannah is a miracle worker. Dad never resists an opportunity to tell me what a disappointment I am.
He holds out his elbow. “Shall we?”
“Theo?” Hannah glances over her shoulder just before they walk through the door. “You coming?”
“I’ll catch up.”
“Okay.” She smiles kindly and disappears with Dad.
I get up and run the other way. There’s a restaurant in the hotel. That means a bar is close by. If I have any chance of making it through today in one piece, it’ll be after I fix my shaky nerves with some booze.
My hands are trembling. I slip them into my pockets and walk into the lobby. The crowd is thick out here, a mixture of tourists trying to check in, locals curious about the new building, and guests of the opening ceremony.
I make a beeline for the restaurant when I stumble on someone small. A little girl’s sobs rises above the din of the crowd. I glance down and find a kid, five or six years old, sitting on the ground. She’s wearing a sleeveless white dress with flowers on it and small brown sandals.
My nose scrunches. Where are her parents? She’ll get trampled. I bend over and pick her up. As soon as I touch her, she stops crying and surveys me with a wide-eyed, curious stare. When I get a good look at her face, I nearly drop her.
This girl could be Sunni’s twin.
She has the same curly black hair, brown eyes and plump cheeks. I have an out-of-body experience as I remember running around with Sunni in the hotel, playing games and wreaking havoc in the room that was lonely before the curious little girl stumbled in.
“Leah!” A voice rumbles. “Leah!”
The little girl kicks her legs and reaches out to a large man that appears in front of me. He takes one look at her and rips her out of my grip. “What do you think you’re doing, man?”
“Daddy.” Leah places her head in the crook of the man’s neck.
I try to talk, but the lump in my throat expands the longer I stare at the kid. It’s like looking at an old photo come to life. The resemblance is uncanny. My voice is hoarse, razor thin, when I finally speak. “I-is this your daughter?”
“Yes.” He arches angry eyebrows. “Who are you?”
“I found her on the ground and picked her up so she didn’t get hurt. That’s it.”
“I saw a balloon,” Leah explains in a small voice. “I didn’t mean to get lost. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, honey.” The man rubs his hand down the little girl’s back. “Let’s go find Mommy.”
“Leah!” A feminine voice cries before he can do that. “Leah!”
“Looks like she found us first,” the guy mumbles.
We all turn as one.
A woman fights her way through the crowd, digging her elbows into people’s backs and pushing them out of the way when they don’t move fast enough. Her brown skin, curly black hair and brown eyes spark a memory.
But it can’t be…
“Leah!” The woman slams into Leah’s father and wraps her fingers around the little girl. She takes Leah into her arms and hugs her tight. “Honey, where did you go? I was so scared. You can’t let go of Mommy’s hand like that. What if something happened to you?”
“Babe, relax. She’s fine.” The guy smiles. “See?”
“Sorry,” Leah says in an adorable lisp.
I rub my eyes. The woman glances over at me, acknowledging my presence for the first time since she barreled into Leah and her dad. Horror twists her expression. She spins, hiding the little girl from view as if expecting me to pounce like the Big Bad Wolf.
Even with her back turned, she can’t disguise herself from me. I whisper her name like a sacred prayer, “Sunni?”
“Leah, let’s go home,” Sunni says, pretending she didn’t notice.
The little girl bounces in her arms. “I don’t want to go. The balloons—”
“I’ll buy you balloons on the way back,” Sunni hisses.
I ignore the muscled dude walking by their side and run to catch up to her. My hand clamps around her wrist. Sunni stiffens like I slapped her. My mind is on the fritz. It’s been six years, but she hasn’t aged a day. She looks the same. Just the sight of her wrenches my heart right out of my chest.
“Don’t leave again,” I whisper. Beg. Plead. If she’s a dream, I don’t want to wake up. “Please.”
Sunni is trembling. She pauses. Hesitates. Looks at the door and then over her shoulder at me. In the end, Sunny wrenches her arm free and walks away.
Sunni
“Who was that?” Dion asks, an eyebrow arched. He rubs his groomed beard and tosses another look at Theo. The crowd in the hotel foyer is thinning, but Theo is still there. He’s staring at me. I can feel his gaze on my back. “Guy looks like you just crushed him. Is he an ex?”
“Here. Take Leah home.” I hand the little girl over and squeeze her cheek lightly. “Be good. Dion will take you to Nana.”
“You want me to drive back for you?” Dion asks. He doesn’t know my history with Theo, but he can sense that something is wrong. Anyone could. I haven’t stopped trembling since Theo and I locked eyes.
“No. I’ll catch a taxi.”
“Alright, babe.” He bends down and kisses me on the lips.
I’m uncomfortable kissing where Theo can see me, but I force myself to return the peck. Dion’s lips are rough. He knows Theo’s watching too. This kiss is a warning to him. A marking of his territory.
“I’ll call you,” I whisper, frustrated with myself for being annoyed with Dion. He’s my man now. I cut off all ties with Theo. There’s no reason to act shy or ashamed in front of him.
Dion nods. “I’ll be waiting.”
Leah waves at me. Her sweet eyes lock on my face as Dion carries her to the parking lot. I force myself to turn around. My heart is thudding crazily. I’m glad Dion didn’t ask too many questions about Theo, but I know he’ll be curious later.
I push Dion from my mind. Theo’s the bigger problem. I had no idea he’d be in the city today. Last I checked, he was in the States, doing… whatever rich hotel heirs do.
“Pull it together, Sunni.” I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. Over five years have passed. Theo and I are different people now. It’s not like I have lingering feelings for him. I dealt with those pesky things years ago.
Theo is still standing where I left him when I walked out with Dion and Leah. His eyes brighten as I draw near. Since we parted, I discovered the scientific color of his not-quite-hazel and not-quite-amber eyes—tawny. It’s a perfect description.
What are you doing drooling over him? I shake my head. The last thing I should think about is the color of my ex’s eyes, as deep and soulful as they may be.
Theo and I need to have this conversation, but the only way we’ll part amicably is if we avoid thinking of the good old days. And of how I ended things.
Which leads to questions of why I ended things.
And why I can’t answer any of those questions.
“You came back,” Theo says, his voice full of wonder. I don’t know if he’s referring to my return to Belize or my return to the hotel foyer but I pretend it’s the latter.
“We should talk.”
“Yeah.” He glances around, his eyes flicking from left to right. “This place is crazy. The park next door is quieter.”
I nod. Our discussion should be done in private. There are too many cameras here, too many opportunities for interruption. Besides we wouldn’t be able to hear one another over the noise if we stay at the hotel.
As we walk outside, a flood of people stop to greet Theo. I stand back and watch. I’d forgotten how influential the Neives men were. Growing up, Trevor Neives would leave on frequent trips to the mainland for a conference or a dinner.
Mom would babysit Theo, and he’d sleep over in our dorm. We would watch movies,
eat popcorn and stay up all night… until we conked out at eleven like wimps.
As we grew older, we forced ourselves to make it past midnight. Our best record was at seventeen when we did a Marvel movie marathon till dawn.
“You… haven’t changed a bit,” Theo says.
Despite my best intentions not to, I study him as well. He seems… older, not just in his face but in his gaze. The bright-eyed, optimistic boy from my youth is gone. Someone else is in his place. Theo’s still handsome though. A fact that I choose not to linger on.
“You’ve changed,” I say.
“Yeah.” He rubs his chin as if I’m talking exclusively about his beard. “I guess I have.”
We step off the sidewalk and amble into the park. The grassy lawn stretches about the size of a football field with swing sets on both ends. I watch the paved courtyard in front of the stage built for concerts. Leah would love to ride her little scooter on that cement.
Colorful huts circle the park. The scent of frying sausages, garnaches, tacos and other Belizean street side delicacies fill the air. Couples walk hand-in-hand, enjoying the sights and the food. Children play on the slide and swings, their gleeful chuckles echoing all around.
My baby would enjoy this place. I make a mental note to bring Leah out here this weekend.
“So… what do you do?” Theo asks. His hand bumps against mine. Tingles of awareness spread through my arm to my chest. I hate that he still stirs me up. I’m with Dion now. I want Dion now.
Remember that, Sunni.
“Me? I work at the Statistical Institute. It’s my… first day Monday.” I don’t know why I tack on that last part. Theo wasn’t asking, but the more time we spend on small talk the more I can draw out the inevitable topic of what happened six years ago.
“Cool. You always were good at Math. It makes sense.”
A strong wind blows from the Caribbean Sea. The waves are restless, a perfect representation of my heart. Puffy clouds drift in the blue sky, but the way the sea is acting, there might as well be rain.
“What about you?” I ask, sneaking a quick look at him. “You managing your dad’s hotels?”
