by Diane Munier
Some of the drink splashed onto Jordan's pant legs. "Shit," Jordan said under his breath, but Seth heard him.
"Shit on you," he yelled. "She's my mother."
Jordan stood up. "Hey…she may be your mother, but it's not cool to act like a baby. Go pick up that cup."
Had he thought it over he might not have said things just that way. He wasn't Seth's father and had no right to act like it, but he was used to kids and keeping order and it just came back to him before he thought it out.
Cori stood, too. "Calm down," she said to Seth. "Sit down and calm down."
Seth ignored Cori and he stalked off down the broad avenue that bordered the shops.
"I'm sorry about that," Cori said, sitting again, her eyes on Seth's retreat.
"About him? I always heard you can't apologize for what someone else does."
"It's his rage."
"His rage? Really?"
"Yes really. I told you he has PTSD."
"Okay. Whatever. He can't just be an asshole sometimes? He has to have a psychological excuse?"
"I'm not going to get pinned to the wall by you. I'm a parent, Jordan. Don't second-guess everything I do."
He thought he heard wrong. He couldn't believe it. There was a fiery look in her eyes though. Well, he had called Seth a baby. And an asshole. So be it. He wasn't taking that back.
"You think we should go after him? Or I will. You stay here," she said.
"Cori," he took her wrist, "since you asked…I've got to say, he seems intelligent. You think he's going to run away?"
"No," she said. "But…he can react. He does that."
"He already threw his shit. If he throws something else, like a rock or some old woman's dog…then he'll get in trouble with security. Maybe that's what he needs…a reality check."
"Yeah…I'm his parent Jordan. He's had plenty of reality."
Jordan put his hands up in an attitude of surrender. "Sorry to cross the line. I guess the next time he cusses me out I'll remember he's had too much reality."
"Are you going to keep being sarcastic?" She got up then and marched after her son. Her son was no longer visible, but she went in the general direction.
Jordan went after her. "Cori, wait."
She stopped and turned. "Right now? You have shown me something small in yourself…something cruel. I'm going to find my son…and then I'm going to think about my return ticket home. Right now? I don't want to look at you."
She stalked off then…just like Seth had. And Jordan did the same…in the opposite direction.
Chapter 19
The day Seth ran away, all the way back to the beach house, without telling anyone where he was going, without answering his cell phone, was the longest day in the history of Jordan's world.
He'd taken off in his own direction, then gotten frustrated at his own frustration, if such a thing were possible and he could attest that it was. Then he'd gone after Cori, balls in his hands, and asked her to forgive him, and he wasn't sure for what, but it no longer mattered. She had held onto his arm for a moment, her head down, and nodded silently. Then he helped her look for Seth.
When Seth wasn't in any of the shops they called the beach house, but Alisha had not seen him. Turns out Alisha had not seen him because Seth had returned to the house and snuck in to his room like a Ninja. On returning home and discovering this, Jordan wisely kept his mouth shut, but it was between them, and she pretty well kept her hair in the way most of the night, only looking at him on occasion and then just long enough to escape back into the curtain.
Paul and Alisha pretended not to notice the atmosphere, and proceeded to cook and lay out a great dinner of fresh scallops, macaroni and cheese for Seth and a great apple and cashew salad. They also rented a couple of movies which afforded everyone something to stare at in the ever-more stifling confines of the house. Then a storm came in and knocked out the power and Cori retreated to bed but not before Jordan heard her tell Seth he could sleep in her room if the storm upset him.
The kid was twelve years old.
Jordan was sitting on the porch with Paul, sharing a front row seat to the storm, the ocean's roil, and a beer. Paul was a great companion for someone feeling like shit. They'd shared many such sessions of easy silence over the years, particularly since the incident.
So it was blow wind, blow, and lo and behold Seth came out on the porch. "What are you doing," he asked them.
"Have a seat," Paul said, tipping his bottle toward the row of lounge chairs just waiting for a warm backside.
Seth plopped down on one of them. "It looks like the end times," he said.
Jordan realized Seth was afraid.
"Nah," he said, taking a sip of his beer. "No trumpets."
Paul snickered, but it could barely be heard. He loved to call Jordan 'the warped theologian.'
Next Jordan knew Seth moved to the empty chair right beside him. There was lightning over the ocean. Jordan's arms suddenly ached to hold Cori. Why had they let anything come between him? Even this crap with Seth. It was no big deal, so why had he let it become one?
"What if they're blasting and we can't hear them," Seth said.
"Hear what?" Jordan asked taking another long drink.
"The trumpets," Seth said sternly.
"No door open in the sky, no man on a white horse," Paul went on.
"Is that what it will be like? When the world ends?" Seth's voice grew more intense.
"Maybe," Jordan answered. Was Seth serious about this?
"You think it's true? You think there's hell?"
"Yes," Jordan answered. "Seth…enjoy the show, man. We're safe here."
"Like…when will he end it?" Seth said.
"Not for a long time," Jordan said back. "It's not our worry. We're at the beach. You should have tried those scallops." He smiled at Seth, but that one only swallowed and looked back at the black angry water and the rips of lightning.
"What if you were out there right now? What if you were on a little boat?" Seth asked.
"Better than no boat," Paul said lazily. "Jaws, man."
Jordan looked sharply at his brother-in-law. Paul didn't realize how serious this kid was. Jaws? Not now.
"I'm never going in the ocean," Seth announced.
"Yes you are," Paul said.
"No I'm not," Seth got louder.
"We're going out there tomorrow," Paul continued.
"We are?" Jordan said. First he'd heard about it.
"I've got a call in to Dave. If he gets back to me early enough we're going fishing."
"Not me," Seth repeated.
"What?" Paul said. "You can't miss a chance to fish on the ocean, man."
"He doesn't have to go," Jordan said. "But…I hope you will." He looked straight at Seth, feeling the manipulation in his blood, the family DNA.
"Why? You don't need me along," Seth said.
"It'd be cool. Just us guys. Bringing home the bacon."
"If pigs could swim," Paul sang.
Seth smiled. "How long are we out there?"
"Four hours," Paul said.
"What if I get sick out there?" Seth.
Oh, he'd actually put himself in the boat now. Paul smiled at Jordan.
"You hurl over the side and the ocean gets a little bigger," Paul said.
Jordan knew he'd had a few.
"Yeah, no big deal out there," Jordan said.
"Feed the gulls," Paul again.
Seth laughed a little. "Gross."
They were quiet for a while, the lights flickering as the storm moved off, then coming on for real sending bright patches onto the porch.
"I don't know," Seth said, bird-dogging on it.
"Well," Jordan said casually, "the world don't end…one way or another. You decide. No biggie."
"Nothing like the feel of a big fish on the line," Paul sighed.
"Oh yeah," Jordan said, and they clinked bottles.
"Can I have a beer?" Seth asked.
They snickered some, bu
t were noncommittal. Hell no he couldn't have one.
In bed that night Jordan stared at the ceiling, hands cradling his head. He thought of Cori and Seth, how it must have been for her, the long days and nights at the hospital, leaving only to attend her dad's funeral.
A husband who was nothing. He thought of her…alone, how scared she must have been. The bond those two had, he wondered…she had come for him. She picked him.
It was a privilege…and a damn big job…to be allowed here…and possibly resented at the same time.
But he was willing. That was the thing. He had that commitment thing. James Carson had committed. But so had he. And his kind of commitment went on forever.
His kind of commitment…endured.
When she came to him, and he knew she would, wrong as it was, right as it felt, he rolled toward her and pulled her close. There were only so many words…that would help. But this, lying together, his arms around her, her holding on, it was the thing that might get them through.
He kissed the side of her face and tasted the salty damp. She'd been crying and came to him...like Seth might to her. They were three bowling pins in a basket, being shaken by life and wobbling into one another. He'd have to allow it. He'd have to remind himself to let it be, let it shake out.
"I love you," he whispered, and that brought new, quiet tears. He reached behind him for a Kleenex from the box on the nightstand, and he handed her this, and she whispered thank you.
And that was all for now. That was enough.
Chapter 20
"Give me some time to blow the man down," Paul sang.
Seth had to laugh, even as he refused to fish, but sat pouting on the white leather bench behind the boat's small cabin.
"I'm sick," he said when Jordan looked at him.
Jordan nodded, a look of sympathy. He was sorry the kid was motion sick, but he'd get over it if he kept sipping that ginger ale. The Dramamine had kicked in by now. They'd all taken some before they went out. It was helping him and he was a little hung over. He suspected more than anything Seth didn't like the lack of control.
Dave had offered to let Seth drive on the way out, but Seth had quickly shaken his head and kept his skinny jacket clad arms folded and his butt cheeks, no doubt, in a tight clench. Anyway they were anchored now and their lines were in. Jordan and Paul were keeping an eye on Seth's pole. Paul had had a bite, but he lost it quickly. Now they were waiting.
Dave was a good guy and he knew his stuff and to top it all he'd brought them out here on his day off. They threw him a lot of business in return, well the real estate people did, not Jordan. And he was having a hard time with Dave's colorful speech, as if a young kid wasn't sitting there big-earring every word. It's not like Seth had anywhere else to go.
Speaking of, said kid was dry-heaving over the side again.
"Whoa bro. Getting those sea legs," Paul said, interrupting Dave's story about a 'broad who was spilling out of the top of her suit' last season and how he'd seen more ass crack….
"Hey Dave," Jordan found himself saying, he pointed at Seth.
"Oh, he's okay. This boat has been thrown up on more times…."
"No," Jordan interrupted, "watch the stories, man."
"PG-13," Paul said in his singsong. He slapped Dave's hand but Jordan could see Dave thought he was a bitch. And he was. He wanted PG. Possibly G. Yeah, G.
Just to be safe. Why the hell not…heck not?
Cori had snuck out of his room that morning before the sun was up. They had marinated in each other for several hours. Not sex. Not sex…less either. But it had been some kind of thing…bonding. He hated that word, but yeah, a gluing process might just be what it was. A silent acknowledgment….
"Seth, you've got something buddy," Paul called out.
"I don't care," Seth moaned, his hands having vanished into his armpits just in case they expected him to reach out and touch his fishing pole.
"Oh shit," Jordan yelled, straddling Seth's pole, his hands poised to grab it. It had gone still, but then it looped over the side.
Paul yelled, and Jordan had it in his hands. He felt like the old man in the sea. This thing was huge.
Seth was next to him now. "Holy shit," he yelled seeing what it took for Jordan to keep a hold of the pole.
For a fleeting second Jordan felt some regret over the language, but the next big yank on the pole almost sent him slamming into the boat's side so all guilt went the hell out of his head.
"Don't let go," Seth yelled.
Jordan, trying to keep silent, shook his head. The pull on his line was unbelievable.
"Moby and his big Dick," Paul yelled.
"For sure," Dave said, and Jordan admired the man could get it up when he must have seen this a thousand times.
At the end of the day Seth got his picture taken with his big-ass triggerfish. Jordan had Dave take measurements so he could order a replica to be made for Seth's wall. On the way home Paul suggested they turn the replica in to a singing fish like Billy Bass who was popular years back. It could open a whole new industry for Dave. So they joked about that and it was pretty silly.
Once home they set the cooler on the porch and Paul went for the fish-cleaning tools he kept in the garage. He and Seth set up a fish cleaning station on a patch of grass that grew in the sandy yard. They had the big fish on a card table and Paul was sharpening his fillet knife. Cori and Alisha were not there, much to Jordan and Seth's disappointment. But Jordan had just cracked a Pepsi open when he heard them pull up in front of the house. Pretty soon the lights came on in the kitchen, and the women came out on the porch. Seth yelled, "Mom," and proceeded to tell her about the fish. Cori and Alisha seemed pretty impressed, well Cori was promising sex with the look she gave Jordan. That's how he took it. And my God. She and Alisha had gone to a spa. There were no words to describe the level of awe he felt. It rivaled his baptism. She was perfect.
Shiny hair, skin like china, lips…eyes…ears…body. He could smell her sweetness over the ocean. That took something. Over the fish. She was a human flower. She was sumptuous.
And he was pretty much her hero. Now this he could get used to.
Seth was speaking rapid-fire, telling Cori all about how Jordan had held the big fish, and he'd taken over cause Jordan had bruised his groin.
Cori's eyebrows shot way up.
"I said it felt like it," Jordan corrected.
"My," Cori said.
"He'll be fine," Alisha interjected. She wanted to know how they were cooking the fat fillets Paul was cutting from the carcass.
"The grill," Paul said, studying his cuts like a surgeon, barely able to spare them a glance so intent was he on his operation.
Cori and Alisha went in the house to start the side dishes, and Jordan followed her and that scent right in.
"Wow," he said standing close to her as she washed her hands.
His eyes darted to Alisha who was doing that smirk at him. Smirk away big sis.
"You got some sun," Cori said. Yeah she was admiring him, too. "Thanks for…he's…just thanks."
Jordan took a big drink of his beer…to buy time. He was pretty choked up. He wondered if everything would ever just be normal and not such a big deal. But then…it was a big deal. She was…a big deal.
"What's that Seth said about Moby's dick?" Alisha asked.
"Um…that was…is the name of his fish," Jordan said softly. It was nearly on the plague that was coming with the cast, but he took charge and said they could just put "Moby."
Cori gave him a look, but she was trying not to laugh.
“Sounds like Mr. Paul," Alisha said.
Jordan smiled. "Hey, I'm not a rat."
Sometimes the name finds the fish.
It was a better night than the one before, the best meal, the best company at the meal.
Seth ate Moby. He got in trouble for saying, "I ate dick."
Paul laughed so hard he fell off his chair. Jordan could only smile…in terror.
Cori d
idn't think it was funny at all. She whispered, "I can't believe you would say something like that."
Alisha just shook her head and said, "If they give me a shower we need books on parenting."
After that they played Monopoly. Paul and his games. Cori emerged as a competitor. Jordan was surprised. She was pretty ruthless. It made Jordan care more, pay more attention. At one point he was winning. Then he landed on Cori's green properties and the slow bleeding of his fortune began. It ended being Paul and Cori. Jordan fell asleep on the couch watching Seth play some game on his iPad.
He was awakened in the most perfect way, Cori's lips on his own. She was pulling back whispering hello, but the kiss was on his mouth like nectar.
"Hey," he said back, not quick enough to catch her. She was on her way to bed.
He got up and noticed everyone was long gone and the lights were out. He followed Cori as was becoming his very good habit.
She went directly in to his room. As he passed Seth's door he noticed the lights were off.
He was in last, shutting the door behind him. She stood, much like another night, other nights, disrobing. She said she wasn't this woman but he wanted to fall to his knees in gratitude that she apparently was.
Oh, there was that skin, that body, those breasts, that dip in at the waist, that swell out at the hips, and those legs. He literally sucked spit.
He was bare when he reached her, on the bed. It's like his clothes evaporated, he really had no realization he was stripping. Peer pressure, he thought. He was a follower.
So there they were on his bed at last, not a thing between them but good will. He wanted to get all serious, right away, and it poured out of him, "You're the most beautiful thing…say you'll marry me. You're mine. Say you are."
Things like that, just a steady rant of things he couldn't believe, but he meant. She laughed and kissed him. She laughed at his heart. But he wasn't mad. Just…whatever, as long as she kept kissing him that way, moving on him.
That scent was all over him, he was drunk with it, with her, and thank God he had showered, well all three of the males had been banished to the showers before they were allowed at the table as the women had insisted they reeked of fish. Paul had tried to persuade Alisha they'd brought the ocean in and it was natural and beautiful, but aluminum foil had held dinner and they'd all cleaned up.
