by Mj Fields
I look at the clock. It’s only four in the afternoon, yet Mom and Babička are resting. I can’t say that I blame them. We spent the entire day there, leaving the house by seven in the morning to make the doctor’s rounds and getting back at around three-thirty.
While they rest, I clean the house. Something about being home brings out the inner domestic goddess in me.
It’s not hard to clean, since it’s a three-bedroom ranch, with a three-bay garage attached. My parents bought it when I moved to the city, after mom’s accident.
I miss my childhood home, and the gardens and trees, but this truly makes more sense for them. They didn’t need as much room, and there were no stairs to climb, which is best for Mom and Babička. Pace lives in an apartment he and Dad built above the marina, so the added bonus was they were less than ten minutes from the marina, in case Dad needed to get home quickly.
Pleased with how the house looks I decide to go to Pace’s place and tidy up for him.
I’ve been so busy with them, I haven’t even been there, but Mom assured me it’s nice and doesn’t smell like fish.
I can’t complain about my own exhaustion. Pace is running the charter boat business alone and refuses to hire help, saying he can do it just fine. When I asked him what would happen if Dad can’t come back to work, he laughed at me.
I didn’t think it was funny and told him, “You need a life outside of the marina.”
He countered with, “You’re one to talk.”
He may be right.
I call Pace to ask him what time he would be going to see Dad, and if he would like to sleep here, offering to sleep at the hospital. He doesn’t answer.
Worry overtakes me. I need to check on him, but first, I check on Mom and Babička through the home monitoring cameras on an app I installed on my phone. It’s a bit excessive—Mom is slower, not crippled, and she can certainly call if she needs to—but Dad insists she needs me here. Then I get the SUV and drive to the marina.
I don’t see Pace’s vehicle—an old Ford Bronco with a hardtop he and Dad worked on, just the marina’s truck, the white Chevy Dad drives is here. I assume Pace’s at the hospital and his phone is off, but since I’m here, I decide to go in and check it out anyway.
I try every key on the keychain until the door finally unlocks. Then I climb the stairs to Pace’s place.
It’s a mess, not dirty, just the typical bachelor pad with empty food containers and a table full of envelopes.
I walk through the open apartment to the kitchen, hoping to find a garbage bag to tidy up a bit while I’m here. They’re under the sink, where they are at home, as well.
After throwing away all the empty take-out containers, I start with the table, sorting through the junk mail and tossing away a week’s worth of flyers and junk mail.
I notice a pile of envelopes under a Playboy magazine, all with the return address of Black Financial.
Warren.
I hope to hell my family didn’t give him any money.
When I take out the contents of an open envelope, I see a red stamp reading ‘Foreclosure Notice.’ I sink into the chair and read the letter threatening to auction off my family’s business and begin to cry.
“Oh, Daddy.” I sniff.
The letter was dated over two months ago, and the ones still unopened are addressed from this past month.
Why didn’t he ask for help? Why?
When my phone chimes, I look and see it’s Melyssa’s number requesting Facetime.
I jump up and run to the bathroom, which is a mess.
Looking in the mirror, I try to convince myself to put on some makeup and unbraid my hair that Babička insists on braiding daily. But I have no makeup, and if I unbraid my hair, it will be a disaster. Instead, I wash my face with cold water, hoping to relieve the puffiness and redness from my outburst of tears when I hear my phone again.
I run out of the bathroom and answer the call, placing a big smile on my face.
“It’s wine Wednesday!” Laney, Melyssa, and Valentina say, smiling from ear to ear. Then all three of their faces drop.
“Are you okay?” Mel asks.
I smile bigger and nod. “Of course I’m okay.”
Then I start crying.
“We’ll head home immediately,” Laney says.
“No.” I bat away my tears. “I’m just exhausted and emotional,” I admit.
“And it’s shark week?” Mel smiles sadly.
“It’s what?” I ask.
“Come on; we’re all on the same cycle. Add a period to everything you’re going through and …” Laney pauses. “If you need us, we’ll be there.”
“You’re with me now.” I sniff. “I have no idea if Pace even has wine here.” I get up and move to the refrigerator, opening the door. “Oh, dear Lord.” I shut it quickly and look at the phone. “His place is a mess. I’m trying to tidy up because he works twelve hours a day, refuses to hire anyone, and goes to the hospital with Dad every night.”
“What do you do at night?” Valentina asks, clearly just trying to keep the conversation going.
“I make dinner with Mom, take the longest bath I possibly can, and hope Babička is in bed when I’m out so she—”
“Doesn’t braid your hair?” Laney laughs.
“Yes!” I laugh out loud. “My God, the next thing you know, she’ll be making me wear our old uniforms.”
“Role play.” Mel wags her eyes brows, and I immediately blush.
Valentina smirks as if she knows something and then I change the direction of the conversation quickly.
“How are things with Franco?”
“Amazing.” She smiles. “Like nine years of hell never even happened. The girls …” she pauses when they all start laughing.
“Spill it. What did they do? I need a good laugh.”
“They’re monsters, beautiful monsters, but monsters nonetheless. It’s almost like they’ve never had boundaries or rules,” she explains.
“And no one is safe. Poor Vincent had the inquisition from hell about why you were running across the yard in his shirt the morning you left.” Melyssa smirks.
“Do you need something?” It’s Vincent’s voice.
When they all start laughing, he sighs and scolds them. “Clearly, you’ve had enough.”
“But have you … had enough?” Mel hits the screen, and then I see him. And worse, he sees me.
His eyes widen in almost fear, and I want to die. I’m sure I look like death.
He rolls his eyes and looks at them. “Question?”
“Answer,” Mel smarts back.
“Do you truly wonder why the girls are acting the way they are? The three of you are no better.”
“Four. The four of us.” Laney giggles.
“Yep, Paige is with us. Say hi to Vincent, Paige.”
Now I roll my eyes, and his scowls lessens.
“We fucked.”
His jaw drops, and they start laughing harder.
“We’re grown-ass adults, and we did what two single, grown-ass adults do when they’re around a bunch of sex fiends like the three of you.”
“Some grown-ass adults don’t discuss their private affairs.” Vincent is now scowling again.
“I didn’t give details.”
“And you best not,” he warns.
“Or what?” I ask, kind of enjoying this bickering with him.
When his eyebrows arch, I can’t help smiling.
His look softens, and then he shakes his head. “You need sleep.”
“You should go rock her bed. I mean, rock her to sleep,” Mel jokes.
“Where is your husband?” he snaps at her.
“Never far away.”
I see Sabato walking across the patio. He looks at the phone. “Yeah, you should go rock her to sleep. Paige, in a former life, the braids would have been a huge turn on, but—”
“Watch it,” Vincent growls at him, and everyone but him laughs.
“Don’t worry, Vincen
t; Sabato has secrets, too.” Mel giggles.
“Is that so?” Sabato smirks at her.
“Yeah, he still likes the school girl skirt.” Mel laughs now. “But prefers me to be all tied up when I wear it.”
“Because you can’t keep still.” He points at her.
“Because I know what I’m getting,” she tells him.
“You all need to grow up,” Vincent says as he storms toward the house.
Mel flips the camera around so I see them all.
“You look beautiful, Paige. But seriously, get some sleep.”
I yawn at the thought, and they all laugh again.
“I love you all. Chat later?” I ask.
“Count on it.” Laney grins, holding up her water bottle.
“Why aren’t you drinking wine?” I ask.
Her smile broadens as Dominic comes up behind her and kisses her head while placing his hands on her belly.
“Blessing number three will be here in five months.”
Tears spring to my eyes again. “Aw … congratulations.”
“Thank you,” they both say in unison.
“Okay, I’m going to speed clean this place and get back to the house. Talk soon.”
I blow them kisses, and they blow them back.
Sinking deeper in the wooden chair, I then open the letter dated from yesterday. When I see the date for two days from now, I crinkle it up in my hands and scream into it.
I get another Facetime request but hit decline as I read over the document again.
“Why, Dad? Why didn’t you ask for help?” I ask no one in particular. “And Pace, what the fuck? God, what is wrong with them?”
I read farther down and see it signed by none other than Warren Black.
“You, Warren Black, are a motherfucker. And now, now I will give you exactly what you have coming to you. Running for mayor? You’ll win over my dead, too fat for you, body. Fucking cattle call.”
I stand up and pace the floor, trying to come up with a solution.
“One day, Paige. Be nice and ask for one day. Then you put your tail between your legs and ask that bitch to help speed along the process of draining your retirement account.”
I sit back down and cry softly into my hands. “I am so sorry I haven’t been here to help. But I promise I’m here now.” I say the words I want to tell them.
When I get everything I need together for tomorrow and clean the damn bathroom, I grab the three trash bags and carry them down the stairs with me. I walk to the dumpster, throw them in, and then go back to lock the door.
I look out over the ocean and feel horribly sad that there’s a possibility that everything, not only my father and mother but Pace, and in a way Babička, have spent their lives building is about to be gone. Then I walk out on the dock and step onto The Arnesen One. I sit on one of the built-in coolers that houses the fish and look out over the ocean.
My phone rings again, another Facetime request. I don’t ignore it this time.
When I see his face, I sigh.
He looks around me, not at me. I don’t blame him. I look like shit.
“Are you calling to scold me on being immature?”
“Would it make you any less?”
“What?” I laugh.
“If I scold you, will you change and become less so?” he asks, still looking around.
“No, probably not. It’s one of my joys in life—the ability to make light of any situation that may or may not be because I was drunk.”
He’s still looking around me. “Don’t blame the alcohol. You wanted to fuck me for many years.”
“That’s pretty conceited.” I laugh again.
Now he looks at me and shakes his head. “It’s the truth. No sense in pretending otherwise. I’ve wanted to fuck you, too. You just have a knack for passing out every time you offered me your cunt.”
“Cunt?” I gasp.
“Fucking delicious cunt.” As he licks his lips, all the butterflies in the world dance in my lower half.
My face is on fire. I look away.
“Look at me,” he demands, so I don’t. “Please.”
I look at him. He’s so damn sexy.
“Where are you?”
“On one of my family’s fishing boats.”
“They own more than one?”
I nod, wanting to say, “for now,” but I instead hold up two fingers.
His jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “Are you trying to remind me of what you owe me?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I try not to smile.
“Shall I remind you?”
I say, “No,” yet I nod my head yes.
His voice drops an octave when he says, “I can’t wait to fuck your ass. Your perfect fucking ass.”
I shake my head, and he again demands, “Look at me.”
I look up.
“Your tits are what I think about when I get hard. The taste of your cunt is what I jerk off to in the shower. Your body—all of it—will be mine again. You promised me that ass, and you better be prepared to make good on that promise, Paige Arnesen.”
I swallow back desire.
“How wet is your pussy right now?’
“Why?”
“Because I need to know.”
“Dry as a bone,” I lie.
He smirks. It’s so sexy that I smirk back.
“Until we meet again,” he says then licks his lips.
“Until we meet again,” I say then hit end.
Oh. My. God.
After Mom and Babička are in bed, I drive back to the hospital, prepared to face my brother.
When I walk through the door, he is sitting with his head in his hands. He looks up when I rap lightly on the door.
I quickly put my finger over my lips and wave him into the hallway.
“Is everything okay?” he asks immediately.
“Yep, they’re in bed.”
“You can’t leave them,” he reprimands me.
I pull out the foreclosure letter and hand it to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You wanna see that man six feet in the ground? Let his Viking warrior princess, hot shot marketing executive know we’re struggling?” he huffs.
“Wanna see me kick your ass for not asking me for some advice at very least?” I shoot back.
He shakes his head. “Stow the badass, Paige. I know you.”
I hold up the letter. “Then you know I’m going to fix this.”
“I’m not sure either of us wants you, too,” he admits. “He’s getting older, I’m going nowhere, and there is no way in hell to make more money on this island so that either he or I can take a fucking break and live a little.” He sits down in a chair and sighs.
“Tell me how this happened; how it got so bad, Pace.”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t even told him my theory. I think this is my fault.”
“How?”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Pace, it will all come out eventually, so let me help you.”
He eyes me skeptically.
“Okay, at very least let me listen to you. Talking about it may help. And Pace, if you don’t, you may end up just like him.”
“Remember when I was dating Carnie?” he asks.
I nod. “Of course I do. She was great … up until she wasn’t.”
He sighs. “Yeah. That’s how those things usually work out.”
“Go on.”
“She was pregnant. We were going to have a baby. I told her that I’d do whatever it took so she could go to college still. Hell I was finally on my way too. I knew Mom and Babička would be on board to help out with a baby, so I got excited.”
I nod. “Of course they would’ve been on board.”
“She started talking about a kid ruining her life, about me never being around, about the fact she wanted more, and then, finally, that she wanted to have an abortion.”
My heart aches from watching him relive an obvious hur
t. One that I wasn’t here to help him through, which makes me feel incredibly guilty.
“It all came out of left field. I mean, we sold the house. I was going away to college, but not far. We would have been fine.”
I remember the time frame. Everything was changing after Dědeček’s death.
“One night, she told me that it was her body, that she didn’t want to get fat.” He pauses and huffs. “Then she told me that I wouldn’t be enough, no matter what, I’d always be a fisherman. That I’d never be able to give her what she deserved.”
I rub his back as he continues, “The fucking day of Mom and my accident, on our way home from registering at Beaufort college, she had an abortion. I get that it’s the woman’s body, Paige, I do, but she could have handed me that baby, signed off and left, never looked back. It was part of me, too.” He swallows hard.
“It shouldn’t stop you from trying again, Pace. Someone will—”
“I crushed my pelvic bone. Yeah, it healed, but …” He grips the arms of the chair and takes several hard, deep breaths. “I can’t have kids, Paige. I’m fucking ruined. The day she took away that baby is the day I got fucked up so I can never have that chance again.”
My heart breaks into a million pieces for him.
I hug him so tightly and cry for him, while he doesn’t shed a tear, not one.
“I’m not done yet,” he finally says, sitting back.
“Go on.” I want him to allow himself to feel the weight of all he has hidden rise off his shoulders. I want him to allow himself to feel, but he won’t. All I can do is hope that, in revealing his pain, he can feel slightly better.
“Warren Black is the one who got in her ear. He’s the one who came home from college and fucked with her head. When I found out, I went after him.”
My stomach turns over, and I want to throw up. In fact, I’m about to.
I jump up from the chair and run into the nearby bathroom and throw up repeatedly. Pace is behind me, pulling my hair back, just like he did when I was home from my freshman year of college and drank for the first time. And yes, Warren Black had everything to do with that night, too.
I wipe my mouth then run to the sink, drinking from it.
“Go on,” I finally pant out when I can.
“Are you okay?”
“I’ll explain later. Go on.” I may have just yelled a little.
