Undertow (Dragonfly)

by Moore, Leigh Talbert

  The fireworks testing seemed to have ended, and we’d circled back around to where my car was waiting. “Can I get a rain-check?” I said, stretching up to kiss his cheek. “I’ve got some work to finish.”

  “But we’re on break.” He smiled and I studied his lips. If I went back with him to his studio, we would most definitely end up making out, and I really wanted to do that again very soon.

  But I shook my head, stepping out of his arms. “I can’t. I have to finish this project this weekend.”

  “Is it for school?” He caught my hand.

  “No… it’s for the paper. Research. Historical stuff.”

  “Wow,” he laughed, “am I that boring?”

  “Of course not,” I said, squeezing his hand that now held mine. “It’s actually really fascinating stuff.”

  “Then bring it over. You can read it to me while I work.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I mean, I can’t. It’s… not really something you can read aloud.”

  I pulled my hand back and fished in my pocket for my key. Julian watched me for a second then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. His lips were warm against my skin in the cool night, and his breath whispered against my lashes. An involuntary shiver moved through me, and my eyes blinked to his. I thought of New Year’s Eve and midnight and kisses.

  “Tomorrow’s the big night,” he said. “Want to come back and watch the fireworks show with me?”

  I smiled and blinked down again. Then I nodded. “I’ll call you.”

  * * *

  The quiet in my empty house was like a presence. The last journal waited for me upstairs, and it was almost as if Mr. Kyser stood up there waiting with it, waiting to tell me his side of the story.

  I poured a glass of water and took a few sips before going to the stairs. My phone lit up with a text from Lucy, telling me about a New Year’s Eve party tomorrow night. I nodded, but didn’t reply to it. Instead, I turned my phone off and dropped it in my bag. I was almost finished here. One journal left.

  I walked slowly to my room, not sure if I was ready for more intensity, but I had to know the final side. Maybe it would help me understand the end, where we were today.

  I shut my door even though I was home alone and reached under the bed to retrieve Mr. Kyser’s leather-bound journal. As I held it in my hands, I thought about what I knew of him. Cold, distant, rude at times, completely withdrawn from his children. Well, except for Jack.

  Yet, there had been moments when I’d seen a flash of something. I wanted to say vulnerability, but it was more than that. It was desperation, like he couldn’t keep waiting. Something had to change for him. I’d seen him with Julian’s mom, and the feelings he had for her were still so strong.

  I opened the cover, and a letter dropped out. It was old, and I recognized the handwriting as Ms. LaSalle’s. Pulling the sides of the envelope apart, I saw inside was a folded note along with the small slip of paper on which she’d written she was pregnant. I slid it under my pillow to read at the end.

  First I had to take my last trip down this dark memory lane.

  Book 3 – Bill

  May 31, 19--

  Getting married right out of high school was not in the plan.

  Meg gave me this journal for graduation. She said I should document my journey to success. I like that—the idea that one day I can look back and remember our story, how we made it.

  I think it’s important to start there, with that fact. I did not plan to get married at nineteen.

  Bryant and I had our whole career path mapped out. We even ran it past the retired veterans at the small business center in Newhope. They were impressed. Said if we could convince farmers south of Fairview to stop planting sweet potatoes and cotton in the sand and sell us their land, it could work.

  It was all coming together. And then Meg told me she was pregnant.

  I couldn’t believe my luck, and after how careful I’d always been.

  Mardi Gras. That was when it happened. We’d all been drinking, and Meg was dancing around in that little short dress. We got back to Dad’s truck, and I couldn’t wait to pull her on my lap. It’s not easy to remember protection every single time when your girlfriend looks like Meg—and when she’s always so ready to go. I kept trying to get her on the pill, but she said it would make her fat. So it was up to me.

  And I’d been careless. Lost focus.

  Bryant is going to flip, and after two years of planning.

  We got our big idea one summer in Florida. We’d spent the first two months working on my uncle’s farm in Corona, driving combines and stacking hay bales. It was hard work and in the South County heat, I hated it. I swore to Bryant we were going to get the farms out of here if it was the last thing we did. He laughed, but Bryant’s a good guy. We’ve been friends since we were kids.

  Bryant’s grandparents own a house in South Walton, and for ten years developers have been going down there, taking forgotten beachfronts and finding investors to purchase lots for luxury resort communities. Some are full-time residents and some are rentals.

  I decided we could do the same in South County. We’d turn those swaths of open sand around East End Beach and Hidden Pass into tourist dollars with our names stamped on every one. It was going to work, and it was going to work big.

  Now it felt like it was all slipping away.

  Meg said nothing has to change, but I know she doesn’t understand how much I’m going to be working.

  Meg.

  I’d never seen a girl like her when I started at Fairview High School. She caught my eye the first day with her long blonde hair and long, tanned legs. She walked right up to me and introduced herself, and we’ve been together ever since.

  She’ll make the perfect wife for what I’m planning, and even better, she believes in it as much as I do. So maybe she’s right. Her mom can help with the baby while I’m at school, and we can keep moving forward.

  But she has to understand, until we make it, work has to come first.

  Bryant and I decided since I’m more of the salesman, I’ll get the business degree at the university in Sterling, the county over. I’m hoping with summer school and intersession courses to finish in less than three years.

  Bryant’s dad is in construction, so Bryant will handle the site research and finding the best engineers and contractors. Then, when I finish school, we’ll travel to Atlanta to start courting investors. And even though she claims to be against the whole thing, Miss Alexandra LaSalle is drawing up the elevations and landscape plans for us.

  Lexy. That’s a whole other story.

  I’d also never met anyone like her before Meg introduced us. She’s like some of the horses on my dad’s ranch, wild and skittish and stubborn and beautiful all at the same time. She’s a painter, and she likes to go out on the beach and close her eyes and just sit there. She says she’s meditating, drawing inspiration from nature. I always thought she was crazy like her mom, but she’s Meg’s best friend. The two of them are inseparable, and that’s a good thing. Lexy’s part of the plan, even though I haven’t told her yet.

  She leaves for art school in the fall—the big one in Savannah—and I’m glad. She’ll get the credentials she needs, and then I’ll convince her to come back and join my team.

  She might always try to fight with me about what we’re doing, claiming she’s against our ideas, but she drew up the first elevations for us for free. Said she just wanted to see if she could do it.

  I don’t know about that. All I know is when she unveiled those sketches for Bryant and me, it was incredible. There it was—the whole thing on paper. It was real, and I was so excited, I almost kissed her.

  So let her go to Savannah. I’ll finish up in Sterling, and once everything is in place, we’ll have a first-rate team ready to bring it all home.

  In two weeks, I’ll be a married man with a baby on the way. That’s a lot to swallow, but I don’t plan to mess up again. We’re going to do this just like we planned
it, one step at a time.

  It’s going to work. I’ve made myself that promise.

  June 11, 19--

  I’ve never done this, just so you know. Kept a journal, I mean. I’m not sure how to start this. I guess where we are now: Two months, and we start.

  Bryant and I are so ready, it’s hard to keep our focus on following the steps.

  I’ll do the wedding, get settled in the house Dr. Weaver is giving us in Fairview, and then I’ll hit school running.

  I signed up for twenty-one hours first semester, and if I’m able to handle that, I’ll up it to twenty-four in the spring. Summer school max is eighteen, but I don’t expect that to keep me from finishing in three years or less. They’ll let me take up to six hours during intersession. That’s how we mapped it all out.

  It’s going to be a lot of work, but I’m not afraid of work. I’ve been studying every book I could get my hands on for two years, starting with Warren Buffet’s autobiography and working my way down. Accounting will be key, economics. We’ll have all the details ready when we make our first board meeting in Atlanta. We might look like kids, but those suits won’t know what hit them. Sledgehammer.

  The hardest part was coming up with the name. We tossed around ideas for what to call the set of nine monster complexes, complete with a massive conference center, for almost two years before settling on Phoenician. We went Greek because it was smart, but tough. That was the image we wanted to convey. A force to be reckoned with. Solid towers, clean lines, and unmovable.

  After Hurricane Frederick wiped everything out down here, Bryant and I agreed that in addition to economics, making these complexes strong enough to face down any storm was our top priority.

  We also decided on the name of our company: Kyser-Brennan. I was worried my name first might ruffle feathers, but Bryant didn’t mind. Like I said, he was a good guy. He and I were meant to do this together. Bryant was dependable and a worker, and he wasn’t bothered by insignificant details like whose name was first on a piece of paper. All that mattered was making it to the end and coming out on top.

  Everything starts in August. Until then, I plan to give Meg as much attention as possible. She says she understands what’s coming, and she says she’s fine with how hard it’s going to be, with how much I’ll be working. But I don’t believe her. And if it all starts coming undone later, I want to be able to say I tried. I want her to have something happy to look back and remember.

  I suggested we all go sailing last night because I knew she liked being with Lexy, and I was still planning to get The Artist onboard to lead our design team in a few years. It’d just be her to start, but Lexy’s very good, and she knows us well enough to translate our ideas into images we can sell. Once we all finish undergrad, I’ll convince her to come back here and join us. She might not get paid right away, but we’ll take care of her once everything’s up and running.

  Bryant brought Donna Albriton. He’s been talking about her a lot lately, and I’m pretty sure they’re getting serious. I’ve never heard that guy say more than two words to any girl, so I expect him to pop the question before it’s all over. It’s cool with me. I like Donna. She’s sweet, and she’ll make him happy.

  Some girls are crazy. Always getting into trouble or pulling stunts to get attention or make guys do what they want. Neither Meg nor Donna are like that. And Lexy’s so focused on her art, I’ve never even seen her date.

  Heck, one summer she set up an easel down at the marina, and she must’ve made five thousand bucks in three months. People would come down and watch her sit there quietly painting boats and pelicans, and she was making money hand over fist.

  Yep. That’s what we need on our team.

  The girls arrived for the cruise about the same time. I couldn’t take my eyes off Meg, she was so fine. I helped her onboard and gave her a kiss. She smelled like candy, and I was thinking about later, when we’d be alone. One good thing about getting my girlfriend pregnant, I could forget all the safety precautions and just enjoy myself for a few months.

  Lexy looked pretty. I’m not sure why she’s always pissed when I’m around, but I’ll win her over soon enough. When Meg and I are married, Meg can help with that. And I’m sure she’ll be glad to help if only to get her best friend back home. Meg’s funny about having all the people she loves in the same place.

  Lex likes to accuse me of wanting to destroy the beauty of our hometown. She just doesn’t get it. It’s not about destroying anything. It’s about enhancing what we already have, and it’s about getting in on the ground floor of what’s coming. She’ll understand soon enough. You can’t stop progress.

  Meg also told Lexy I knocked her up. Whatever. I’m glad. I was ready to tell Meg’s parents the minute she told me. She’s already three months along, not that you can tell it. She’s hid that pregnancy well.

  I don’t like hiding, but she says we needed to wait until after our honeymoon.

  I understood keeping quiet until after graduation. School officials were pretty uptight about stuff like that, and I wasn’t jeopardizing my diploma. But now that we’re out, she needs to let her parents know. With her dad’s connections, he can probably pull strings or whatever and get her special treatment. But Meg wants to wait, so I agreed. It’s her deal anyway.

  Lexy looked at me with those brown eagle eyes of hers and made some crack about being nervous. I just shrugged her off. I’d worked this all out in my head. The baby was Meg’s project. The plan was mine. Maybe it’d even be good for Meg to have a baby to occupy her time while I’m at school. And her parents will help her. She doesn’t have to work or anything. Just stay home and play Mama while I take care of the rest.

  I studied the five of us as I steered the boat. It’s a good group. I imagine at some point there’ll be six of us. Hopefully, Lexy’ll hook up with someone we like. Maybe Meg could set her up with Rain Hawkins. His dad owns some prime farmland we could use for a base of operations, and maybe he’d throw in some capital.

  It doesn’t matter right now. Those details are the least of my concern. The girls are talking about the wedding, but I’m looking ahead to our future.

  June 30, 19--

  Wedding, done. Honeymoon, done.

  Honeymoon. That was a nice surprise.

  I’d suggested we wait until after college to get married, but Meg wouldn’t hear that. Then after she got pregnant, she was all, “Why create a scandal that would just turn into a reason for some uptight investor to vote against us?” She had a good point.

  After our honeymoon, I was pretty happy I caved. If those seven days were any indication, our home life promises to be… pretty damn hot. I’d always heard guys joke about pregnant women being horny, but Meg surprised the shit out of me. First, she’d bought this underwear—crotchless and whatever—I expected that, but then she took it a step further by knowing exactly how to work it in her sexy panties. It was like I’d married an undercover porn star. She said she’d been studying some of her daddy’s old magazines, and I started wondering what the hell Dr. Weaver was reading and shouldn’t he be worrying about having another heart attack.

  Sure, I already knew she was comfortable with the standards, her on my lap, doggy style, dining at the Y (I take care of my girl), but then she turned it around. She put on one of her little garter outfits and then wiggled her perfect ass against my fly. Working it backwards, shaking her long blonde hair, and winking at me over her shoulder. I almost blew it on the spot.

  Naturally, I suggested we practice all her new tricks several times so I’d be sure she was enjoying it as much as I was. I was glad she hadn’t started that behavior in high school. You’d be looking at one sweaty horse-rancher for sure if she had. We wouldn’t have made it to senior year without her getting pregnant. Maybe twice.

  You see, Dad had offered to let me take over the ranch when we announced the wedding. It was a good offer, but it would just be more working in the heat all summer long. And ranches were going the way of the dinosaur. No
, I was going to college and Bryant and I would carry this ball all the way to the goal. I’d never have to work outside an air-conditioned office again.

  Anyway, back to the honeymoon. One night after we’d followed Meg’s preferred method—me on top, a little higher to hit the angle right… Okay, I confess, it was one of my favorite ways to go, too, because I could watch her beautiful face go all pink and her smooth brow crease when it happened for her. Anyway, after that I’d cuddled her in my arms and started thinking about August and how much I’d be gone. I wished again I’d had more self-control at Mardi Gras, but she just insisted she wasn’t worried about it.

  Actually, for the first time she suggested she was worried about me. Me? Something about me getting involved with another woman. That was when I knew she didn’t have a clue how busy I’d be. I’d be lucky if I could muster the energy to sleep with her much less have time to worry about keeping some extra woman satisfied. Or under wraps. The thought of how much added time and labor that would require almost made me laugh out loud, but I didn’t. I tried to be sensitive to her fears. I kissed her and assured her it would never happen.

  I never thought someone like Meg would be insecure about anything. She was gorgeous, and her parents always took good care of her. Now they were expecting me to do the same. Marriage might not have been in the plan, but I wasn’t going to let anybody down.

  Not being around for my kid was going to suck. My dad was always there for me. He taught me to care for the horses, and I remembered being a little guy riding the tractor with him. I knew he loved me. Mom took off before I started kindergarten. She wanted to be a singer and moved to Branson. I barely even remember her. All I remember was being with Dad. Just the two of us. I hated that I wouldn’t be around much for my little guy. I’d always thought I’d be a good dad like my own…

  But that’s spilt milk. No use crying over it now. My kids will learn who I am when they never had to worry about money or their future.