by Kim Pritekel
The preacher began to speak, Jenny resting her head against her grandmother’s shoulder. Meredith could hear her oldest grandson, Alan, crying softly from behind her, Walter sitting next to the boy, the two men holding each other up. Meredith wouldn’t allow the tears- she had to remain the glue, if only for a few hours more, until she could go take her nightly bath.
* * *
Reenie felt her eyes begin to well up as one of the most dearest friends she’d ever had, other than Rachel, walked over to her, bright, beautiful blue eyes so kind and filled with compassion.
“Hey,” Beth said softly, taking the smaller woman in her warm embrace. “I’m so sorry, Reenie. So terribly sorry.” She held the editor for a long time, letting her cry. Though the stage actress didn’t know Rachel Holt personally, only meeting her briefly a couple years ago. She’d heard Reenie talk about her time and time again, about her doomed marriage, about Rachel’s immense talent, and how the editor had been after the blonde author to move to New York for years. Beth was in town for a stint on Broadway, and made Reenie’s place her first stop once she’d hit the city.
“I just can’t believe she’s gone,” Reenie said, her tears finally slowing. She truly had no idea she could produce so many. It seemed that’s all she’d done for the thirteen days since she’d heard about Rachel’s plane going down. Pulling slightly away from Beth, the editor led them over to the couch, where Beth sat close to her, their knees touching. Blue eyes gave her their full attention as the dusky-skinned woman spoke of her friend. “She had such an amazing future, Beth.” Reenie shook her head in wonder. “I’ve never seen someone with so much inside of them, just waiting to get out and make the world a better place.”
“You really cared a lot about her,” Beth said softly, seeing her friend nod.
“Yes. She was my best friend.” A new watershed began, Beth easily taking her friend in her arms.
“Loss is not easy, Reenie,” she whispered, “no matter what form it takes. But I promise it gets easier. Soon you’ll be thinking about all the good times you had together, smiling to yourself as you drive down the street, thinking about something crazy Rachel said or did.” Reenie didn’t see the faraway look, or gentle smile in Beth’s eyes. “Your heart will mend, my friend. I promise. Even so, Rachel will always occupy a special place inside you.”
“It’s such a waste, Beth. God, such a waste.” Reenie’s tears dried up once more, for now, her head resting against Beth’s strong shoulder. “I never saw this coming.”
“We never do. People don’t realize that in the blink of an eye,” Beth snapped her fingers, “it can all be gone. Rachel knew how much you cared for her, Reen. She stayed here before she left, right?” Beth felt the editor nod. “No doubt you two had the time of your lives.”
Reenie chuckled, remembering the craziness that was Rachel and her the night before the blonde’s flight. They’d decided to buy a few bottles of wine, getting completely snockered as they bashed every man they’d ever known. More than once Reenie had wondered what if. What if things had been different? What if she could have turned her deep affection towards Rachel into something physical? Maybe then the author wouldn’t of had to jump on a plane to run from her husband.
“Yeah. We always have so much fun together. Had.” Reenie’s face crumbled again, Beth holding her tighter, rocking her and cooing softly.
* * *
Beth glanced up from where she was curled up on Reenie’s couch, flipping through the channels of late night television. Due to her late nights on stage, Beth had become quiet the night owl. The editor had finally fallen asleep three hours ago.
The tall brunette uncurled her body as the knocking sounded again. Walking across the dimly lit loft, she peeked through the fisheye, noting the warped version of a man standing in the hallway.
“Who is it?” she called out, having no intentions of letting some strange man into her friend’s apartment at one-thirty in the morning.
“Matt Frazier,” he said, running a hand through his hair, strands wet from the pouring rain outside. He clarified, as he didn’t recognize the voice on the other side of the door. “Rachel’s husband.”
Beth quickly unlocked the multitude of locks on Reenie’s door, finally pulling it open to reveal the man before her. His brown hair was plastered to his head, hanging in his eyes. The suit he wore was wrinkled, and he looked like he’d slept in it for two days.
Matt looked at the gorgeous woman before him, stunned into silence for a moment before remembering why he was there. “Uh, hi. I don’t think we’ve met.” He extended his hand, feeling the tall woman take it in her warm one.
“Hi, Matt. I’m Beth Sayers, a friend of Reenie’s.”
Matt nodded, looking over the brunette’s shoulder. “Is she here?”
“Yes, though she’s asleep. She’s had a rough night.” From the dark circles under Matt Frazier’s eyes and day’s beard growth, Beth surmised Matt hadn’t had a red letter day, either.
“She knew I was coming, right? We talked on the phone.”
“She didn’t mention it, but come on in. Get dry and war up. Want some coffee?” the actress asked as she walked further into the apartment, flicking the light on in the kitchen as she entered. She heard Matt’s affirmative response behind her, and set about to get the coffee maker perking to life. Refolding the bag of fresh coffee, Beth placed it into the cabinet, turning to lean back against the counter. “I’m so sorry about Rachel, Matt. I only met her once, but I know how much she meant to Reenie. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”
The detective smiled, though it was very sad. “Thank you. I appreciate that. I have to say,” he said, running a hand once again through his already disheveled hair. “This has been the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to deal with. Reenie and I are going to be meeting with Rachel’s publisher tomorrow to finalize a few things.”
Beth nodded in understanding. “You’re not from the city, are you?”
“No. We live in Oregon.” Matt cringed inside, knowing he had to stop saying ‘we’. There was no longer a ‘we’, only a very sad, lonely cop who hated himself every time he had to face his own reflection. Guilt ate at him anew each and every morning, his new constant companion.
“Beautiful state. I lived there for a year or so in my early twenties.” Beth crossed her arms over her chest, head slightly tilted as she studied her welcome company.
“Do you live in New York, then?” Matt peeled his wet jacket from his shoulders, folding it lightly over the back of a kitchen chair.
“Nope. Right now I’m in Arizona. Reenie lets me stay here when I have a show in the city,” the brunette explained, reaching behind her to grab two coffee mugs, setting them lightly on the counter.
“A show?”
“Broadway or off-Broadway, depending. Sometimes I do summer stock.” Beth shrugged, easy going. “Just depends on what I feel like doing.”
“Wow. An actress, or singer, or dancer…?” Matt questioned with a raised brow. Beth chuckled.
“I’m certainly not a singer, though don’t exactly have two left feet. I’m an actress.”
Matt nodded approvingly. “That’s great. How do you know Reenie? Are you a writer, too?”
“Oh, god no! I can barely write a decent letter let alone a masterpiece like I hear Rachel can write.” Beth tried to keep her smile, seeing Matt’s eyes darken with pain. “During the days when Reenie was a talent scout for a local agency, she and I met. Been good friends ever since.”
“Matt.”
They both turned to see Reenie enter through the dining room. Without a word, Rachel’s husband walked over to the shorter woman, taking her in a warm embrace, Reenie losing herself in the breadth of his chest and arms, feeling warm and safe. Though there was a part of her that was still angry with him for what he’d done to Rachel, he was her last link to the blonde, and felt somehow comforted by him.
Beth felt like she was encroaching upon a very private moment and decided
it was her cue to leave stage left.
* * *
Dark blonde brows drew, green eyes studying the ring before her. She smelled smoke, but saw nothing. Leaning down, Rachel tucked a stand of hair behind her ears, squinting at the small stack of twigs she’d carefully arranged. Come on, you bastard. It was her eighth try, trying every configuration she could think of. Never in her life had she felt so stupid or inept.
“Shit,” she muttered, wracking her brain for the ninth try when she saw something fluttering. “Fire! I have fire!” Hopping up to her knees, the blonde leaned over, moving a stick aside to see the tiny flame trying to lick its way over another twig. “Yesssss!” The author sat up, watching in utter fascination. It was almost like she’d never seen flame before, so exciting it was.
“What happened?” Dean asked, out of breath as he ran from the jungle, where he’d been gathering food, at Rachel’s cry.
“I got it started.” She grinned at him, turning her full attention back to the budding flame. The attorney fell to his knees beside her.
”If only I could add a little of my flame to give it a boost,” he joked. The blonde chuckled beside him. “I never thought I’d be so thrilled to hear someone yell fire before.”
“Yeah, me, either.” Together they watched in silence as the flame grew, chewing up the kindling it was given, Rachel slowly adding more as the flame’s hunger grew.
“It’s beautiful, Rachel.”
“Thanks.”
“Here- have some nuts for your troubles.”
The blonde accepted the small handful, freshly picked, chewing contentedly. Dean leaned back on his elbows, stretching long legs out in front of him and crossing his ankles. He looked up into the seamless blue sky, eyes closing at the radiant light that shone down on him.
“I wonder what Will is doing right now,” he said, voice soft. Rachel glanced over at him, tossing another nut into her mouth.
“Who’s Will?”
“My partner.” Dean sighed, though it was heavy and sad. “It kills me, thinking what he must be going through right now, thinking I’m dead.”
“I’m really sorry, Dean. I bet you miss him.”
“Like my own breath.”
Rachel studied Dean’s profile, the growth on his chin and upper lip giving him a more rugged, handsome look to the baby-faced man who had crawled up onto shore. “How long have you been together?” As the blonde listened to Dean’s story of him and Will, she felt herself grow wistful. She couldn’t imagine being with someone for more than ten years and yet still talk so highly about that person. Hell, she and Matt had only been together for four years all told, and she had little to no respect left for the detective. What was that kind of love like?
“What does he do?”
Dean smiled up at the sky, eyes still closed. “He’s the best damn architect in Manhattan.”
Rachel also smiled, then she snorted. “I hope you don’t mind the questions. I love to ask them.”
Dean cracked an eye open, glancing over at his beach-mate. He looked at her profile, the delicate features, soft, full lips. Rachel truly was a beautiful woman. No, not quite. Yes, she was beautiful, but it was more than that. She was… cute? Dean wasn’t sure that was the word, either. She had a gentleness about her, yet was aloof. He hadn’t quite been able to get a handle on her over the past week they’d been on the island. Usually he was good at reading people, nailing down what made them tick. Not this one; the petit blonde was an enigma. It was easy to see the intelligence behind her green eyes, and her mind was always turning, but she never revealed what she was thinking about. She’d be a great poker player.
“Are you a reporter or a shrink?” he asked warily. The blonde chuckled, shaking her head.
“Neither. Just a curious person.”
“Okay. But turn about….” He raised a brow, Rachel nodding in acknowledgement.
As they sat in companionable silence, Rachel thought about the man sitting next to her- opinionated, selfish and somewhat childish at times, as well as flamboyant. She knew Pam wasn’t fond of him, and Mia just didn’t quite know what to make of him. Michael, who was finally recovering from his ordeal as well as the loss of his wife, Melissa, avoided him. No doubt Michael sensed something different in the gay man, considering the tall Texan was a man’s man, deep voice, gruff and crude, everything Dean wasn’t. Even so, the author had noticed Dean checking out Michael’s ass, in his tight Wranglers, on more than one occasion. If Michael ever caught him, no doubt there’d be hell for Dean to pay. They were a motley crew, everyone trying to find their place among the dysfunctional family, including the blonde.
Rachel, a natural loner, was finding it difficult to find the inner peace she so craved. Every hour of the day something that lent to their survival, had to be accomplished. The blonde author certainly had a new appreciation for her life back home. She was hungry, she opened the fridge or kitchen cabinets. Nothing there, fine, she jumped into her car and headed to the nearest Burger King. She had to go to the bathroom, great, tug her pants down, do her thing and clean up. Simple one, two, three. She was tired or cold, she simply curled up in her soft bed, covered by an even softer comforter.
Last night Rachel had lain on the hard ground, a layer of palm fronds her mattress, the cold air coming off the ocean to caress and chill flesh. She had curled up onto her side, bringing her knees as close to her chest as she could, feeling like she was about to be born again. The other sleeping bodies around her had all been so temping, their body heat a beacon to the blonde, who just couldn’t bring herself to give in to her desire for warmth. By nature Rachel wasn’t a touchy, feely kind of girl. She accepted hugs from friends, and in fact loved physical affection, but something inside her- irrational fear of rejection perhaps- wouldn’t allow her to initiate physical contact, unless the other person was under duress, or the person had managed to enter into Rachel’s tiny inner circle of trust. It was childish and crazy, both of which she knew, but true all the same. So, instead she had tried to curl up even tighter and sleep.
Rachel felt herself becoming suffused with guilt. Over the past week, she’d watched her fellow islanders go through a myriad of emotions: anger, grief, profound sadness and frustration, just to name a few. She’d watched them fight with each other and go off by themselves, crying when they thought no one was looking.
The blonde found herself looking forward to each day, wondering what new adventures and circumstances it would bring. She was actively filing away every sight, every sound and scent, which would later be taken out and dusted off for future story fodder and reference. Did that make her a horrible person? She didn’t regret their situation, other than those who had lost their lives, and those were being torn apart back home. This brought her meandering thoughts to her husband. What was Matt thinking of all this? Was he relieved? Now he could have his mistress, a woman Rachel had no idea of the identity. All she knew was that the woman had rather large breasts, and apparently thought a lightning bolt shaved into her pubic hair was fun for the whole family. Was Matt sad? Rachel couldn’t even allow herself to think about Reenie, who she knew would be devastated. The dark-haired editor was the one person in the world, next to Daisy, who the blonde trusted with her every emotion.
Sighing, the author looked into the growing flames.
* * *
Whipping her head back, Denny felt the long, wet strands slap against her mostly naked back. After that first day, her shirt had been ruined and torn as they’d used it for a food container. She wasn’t keen on walking around in her jeans and bra, but it did keep her cooler, in all truth. She just pretended that the slight belly she had didn’t exist.
Reaching behind her, the brunette grabbed the thick rope of her wet hair, squeezing out the excess water, gasping as the cold stream slid down her back and into the waistband of her panties. Looking around, she realized she was still alone, and slid the panties down her legs and allowing them to dry on a rock next to the small, fresh water pond set at the back o
f the island, surrounded by high rock walls and moss covered ledges. An incredible waterfall served nicely for a shower, even if they had no soap. They’d had another drenching rain the night before, so the waterfall was running strong. As the day continued on, it was peeter out until the next rain.
Denny had spent the past couple days exploring as much of the island as she could. She figured it was anywhere from three to five miles across, most dense foliage, three separate beaches, though two were smaller, one, where Rachel, Mia and Pam had landed, very rocky. She had found her bathing spot the day before- secluded, beautiful and the only fresh water waterfall on the island. It wasn’t long before guilt made her show Pam and Mia, who had been taking their own tour of the island.
The water was cold, reaching to just below Denny’s naked breasts, which had become one giant roadmap of goosebumps ending in painfully erect nipples. A shiver passed through her body as she dunked her entire body, spitting water out as she rubbed it out of her eyes. She used some torn material from her shirt, trying her best to wash off the sweat from her pits, under her breasts and between her legs. Denny had a huge phobia of being responsible for body odor, so this was all a great big test in patience and tolerance for her. She was doing her best, washing the best she could daily, in the pond, and in the ocean before that, but she still felt sticky and gross. Denny wasn’t a particularly vein person physically, but she was vein about her hair- thick and glorious- and clean! It was near killing her to not be able to wash or brush it. It was almost an obsession for her. Hannah always teased her about it.
Hannah.
Denny continued the mindless work of rinsing off, her chilled skin quickly getting used to the chill. Though she was in almost perfect shade from the surrounding trees, the air was still hot. Her mind veered to her partner and the woman who had been haunting her dreams. If she closed her eyes for even a moment, Hannah’s dark eyes came back to her, twinkling mischievously as they did, even if the brunette were being good as gold. That had been one of the things that had made Denny fall in love with her in the first place.
