by Loretta Lost
Chapter Thirteen
Dr. Owen Phillips
The salty sea air fills my lungs as I take in a deep breath. My eyes glance up at the endless sky above, and I marvel at how many stars can be seen. Even the Milky Way is visible. At home, it’s nearly impossible to get a good look at the night sky—it’s all so sickly and grey, like a heavy, toxic, suffocating cloud. It’s so different out here on the open ocean, where the stars illuminate the horizon so clearly. Even after a few days on this cruise, I am still in constant amazement at how much easier it is to breathe here.
Caroline was right. Being thousands of miles away from my troubles really does put things in perspective. I’ve almost stopped gripping my phone so tightly when I sleep that it leaves an imprint on my hand. I’ve almost stopped waiting for Carmen to call. I have stopped calling, but part of me still hopes that maybe she will decide to reach out to me. When that happens, I want to be there for her.
My eyes drift away from the stars and look down hopefully at my phone.
Surely I’ve given her enough space by now? I am sure she will call soon. Luckily, the cruise line provides us with cell reception and Wi-Fi—albeit at expensive additional costs. It’s totally worth it; I need to talk to her. I know it’s crazy, but I need to let her know that my feelings haven’t changed, and that I want to be with her.
So why am I here in the Caribbean with Caroline?
Mainly because I was losing my mind at home. I am losing my mind just a little less out here. I know that Helen recommended that I give her sister some space, and I’ve been trying. But I couldn’t be patient for a moment longer—not with everything in me screaming to rush over to Carmen’s house and give her a giant bear hug, and never let her go.
“Owen, my boy,” says Caroline’s father, and it takes me a moment to even realize he’s addressed me. “Why don’t you tell me a little more about the medical research you mentioned earlier?”
I am snapped out of my thoughts and back to reality, and I see Caroline and her parents staring at me expectantly. We are sitting on the deck of the ship at dinner, and I need to turn on the Owen-charm and pretend that everything is great. Clearing my throat, I launch myself into an elevator pitch about my work with gene therapy for curing patients with LCA. I have done this pitch in social situations so many times that it has become routine, and I no longer have to think much about what I’m saying.
“Remarkable!” Caroline’s father says, leaning forward with interest. “Simply remarkable. Do go on.”
Oh, he wants me to go on. That’s easy. Next, I launch into a spiel about Liam and how inspiring it is to have a best friend and partner who is so capable and hardworking. I could sing Liam’s praises in my sleep, so once again, I don’t have to give much thought to what I’m saying. I do add in a note about Liam’s success in curing Helen’s vision, and I feel a lump in my throat as I think about how perfect things were when we were all together at the cabin. I miss my friends. But most of all, I miss Carmen. I miss her so much that it hurts.
I feel like I was just about to venture down the path to paradise, and a giant log—no, an entire forest fell across the road, and I was forced to make a detour back in the other direction. Something amazing was just past that roadblock, and now I might never discover what it was. I feel so confused and jaded, and uncertain of what to do with myself.
I had a few precious moments of clarity when I was together with Carmen. Now, I feel like those moments are gone forever. Was it all a lie?
Oh, Caroline’s father is responding to me. I’d better pay attention.
“That’s wonderful news, my boy,” says the older man fondly. “You know, in certain cultures, being able to cure the blind is considered a miracle worthy of sainthood.”
I try to repress a derisive snort. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but it is really important work.” Do I even like my work? Yes, I suppose I do. But it isn’t what I always dreamed of doing. I turn to Caroline, and observe her beautiful face in the moonlight. She looks somewhat sad, and I feel the need to say something positive. “You know, if it weren’t for Caroline, I never would have gotten into ophthalmology.”
She immediately smiles and touches my arm. “I’m glad you listened to my advice.”
But am I glad? I can’t remember. I was headed down another path, once, long ago. Gynecology; a field I was truly passionate about. But then, another roadblock. Another huge roadblock that I couldn’t overcome.
I love working with Liam, but… I can think of few things more rewarding than helping to bring new life into the world. I feel like that would put a smile on my face every single day, and remind me that things are good in the world. I think Carmen wanted that, too. I think that maybe I understood a tiny percent of how she felt about losing that dream. I wanted to build new dreams with her. I wanted to help us both mend. Looking up at the stars, I bleakly wonder whether I have any reasons left to smile—real smiles, not these fake, vacation-y smiles. I spend so much time and energy trying to make others laugh, but I just can’t seem to remember how to do it myself.
I’m feeling so numb these days.
I try to participate in the conversation with Caroline’s parents, but my heart simply isn’t in it. When Caroline asks me to get her a drink, I am thrilled for the opportunity to excuse myself. I nearly bound out of my chair and head toward the bar, eager for some potent liquor to slosh around in my insides.
A nod to the bartender is all it takes before he quickly throws together a strawberry daiquiri for Caroline and begins preparing an extra-strong Long Island Iced Tea for me. I watch as he turns the various bottles upside down stylishly: vodka, tequila, rum, gin, triple sec—is that all? I could probably use a few more in the mix.
“If you order any more of these, I’m going to have to cut you off,” the bartender warns jokingly.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I say anxiously as I back away from him. “A little tea at bedtime never hurt anyone.”
“That ‘tea’ will knock you on your ass if you’re not careful,” he calls after me.
I shake my head dismissively as I return to Caroline, already sipping from the straw. I notice something strange that makes me pause mid-step. Caroline has grabbed an object from the table and tossed it off the side of the ship. Immediately, my heart leaps into my throat as I rush closer to confirm that it is the object I thought it was.
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “Caroline, did you just—”
“What?” she responds nervously.
“Did you just send my phone to the bottom of the ocean?”
“Telemarketers,” she explains as she comes over to take her drink from me. “Come on, Owen. You’ve been glued to your phone this whole vacation. You should relax and enjoy the experience while we’re still here.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say softly, glancing in the direction that my phone went flying. Why the hell would she do this? All my contacts—all my notes! So much information was on that phone. And worst of all, now Carmen can’t contact me. I put my cool drink to my lips and take a large gulp to try to keep my anger at bay. “I guess the battery was getting old, and I’m due for an upgrade soon, anyway. So you’re probably doing me a favor…”
“See? Perfect,” she says softly.
I search her face for information, and I find a touch of fear there. She’s hiding something from me. I am about to confront her when the sound of a man clearing his throat distracts me.
I turn to see Caroline’s father standing up and stepping toward me. “Owen, can we talk? Man to man?”
My eyebrows lift slightly. I reach down to take another long swig of my drink. “Ummm, sure,” I say hesitantly. “Excuse me for a few minutes, ladies.” I am not really in the mood for one of this guy’s speeches. If he’s going to lecture me on being a better boyfriend to Caroline, it’s a little too late. But then again, we haven’t really told her parents that we’re broken up, because we didn’t want to ruin the vacation.
Can they tell? I suppose we’ve
been a lot less affectionate than we were previously. I consider this as I follow Mr. Hoffman across the deck of the boat.
Actually, have we been less affectionate? Maybe I have been. But Caroline has been acting almost the same—it’s like she really prefers to pretend that nothing has happened. I’ve wanted to sit down and talk to her about our situation, but it’s never the right moment. Where do we go from here? Do I have to move out of the apartment? Or does Caroline want to move back to Germany with her parents? It’s all so painful to think about, and I can’t even bear to imagine the look on her face.
When we’ve gotten to the other side of the boat, Caroline’s father grasps the railing and turns to look at me with a smile on his sun-reddened cheeks.
“You love my daughter, don’t you?” he asks me at once.
My brow furrows at the question. “Of course I do,” I tell him softly.
“Then why haven’t you popped the question?” he demands in his heavy German accent.
Caroline never told him? This bothers me a little. “I did, Mr. Hoffman. Many times. Remember a few years ago, I asked you for permission?”
The older man’s smile disappears. “Well, that’s strange. I thought you just never followed through.”
“She just wasn’t ready,” I explain to him with a shrug, taking another long sip from my drink.
“It’s your job to make her ready,” he informs me.
Frowning, I shake my head. “I have no clue how I could have done that.”
“You have to be persistent,” says Caroline’s father. “Well, it doesn’t matter. She’s ready now.”
I find myself snorting and sighing at the same time. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s true. She doesn’t really want to marry me.”
“I don’t think you’re understanding me, my boy,” the man says as he moves closer. “It doesn’t matter what she wants. We’re the men, and we get to decide. Move it along. I want grandchildren.”
I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I’m not sure that’s what she wants either. She’s made it abundantly clear in the past…”
“Like I said, son. It doesn’t matter what she wants. Poke a hole in the condom or something. That’s how I got my wife pregnant the first time—if not for that little bit of manipulation, Caroline wouldn’t be here at all. And her mother might not have even married me.”
I stare at him in horror.
He seems to notice this, and gestures to his face. “Look at me, my boy. Do you think I could land a woman like that if I didn’t get a little tricky? We johns gotta stick together.
For the first time, it’s starting to make sense to me. Why Caroline wanted to leave Germany and get away from her parents. Why she complained that her mother was so unhappy and distant all the time. Anger rises in my chest. “Mr. Hoffman—” I begin with indignation, but he cuts me off.
“Women don’t want a nice guy,” he says, nearly spitting the word “They never say ‘yes’ to the responsible man with a good job. They want muscles and motorcycles and excitement. Not nerdy doctors. What do you expect? They just need a little motivation. They need to be snared.”
I feel a little bit sick. What are we, cavemen? “But Mr. Hoffman,” I say quietly. “The ladies actually have to carry the children in their bodies. It’s a big responsibility, and it should be a decision they make—one they feel good about. I could never do that to your daughter.”
“And that’s why you’re the perfect man to marry her, my boy. Luckily, Caroline likes you enough that you won’t have to go that far.”
I shake my head in disbelief at this man’s illusions. Turning away from him, I look out at the shadowy sea. Maybe I should have stayed at home, and skipped this ‘vacation.’ I only realize that Caroline’s father has still been talking when he grabs my shoulder.
“Did you hear me Owen?” he says in annoyance. “I told the band to come over and play one of her favorite songs at the table.”
“What are you talking about?” I say in confusion.
“You’re going to propose to my daughter tonight.”
“What?”
“You’re going to ask Caroline to marry you. She’s pretty drunk, and the atmosphere is magical. Her mother will be looking on with teary eyes—she couldn’t possibly refuse on a night like this.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “No, I can’t do that.”
“You can, and you will.”
“Mr. Hoffman, you don’t understand…”
“No, my boy. I think you don’t understand. You’re going to marry my daughter, or your friend Liam is going to lose his medical license for fucking a patient.”
I blink once. I blink twice.
When I am able to speak, my voice is hoarse. “Did you just threaten me?” I ask Caroline’s father.
He smiles and claps me on the back. “Of course not. I’m just informing you of what’s going to happen if you don’t follow my instructions.”
My throat has gone suddenly very dry.
“You’re going to need a giant, expensive diamond,” the man says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a velvet box. He extends his hand to put it in my chest pocket, and pats my shirt lightly. “No woman could refuse a rock like that, my boy. I’ll pay for the wedding, too, of course. No expense spared for my Caroline’s special day.”
I find my mind racing with all the possibilities of how I can get out of this. Dammit! Why did I open my big mouth and talk about Liam at dinner? This man was just waiting to find some dirt he could use on me.
“Why the long face?” Mr. Hoffman asks with a frown. “Don’t you love my daughter?”
“Yeah,” I say again.
“Don’t you want to marry her?”
I hesitate. “Well, I did. For years, but…”
“No buts. Whatever you’re going through right now? This rough patch, or whatever? It will pass. Trust me, my boy. Marriage is forever. You and Caroline live together. You’re basically already married. Every married couple has moments when they wonder why they ever chose their partner, but then comes that special moment when you remember.”
A rough patch? Is that what this is? The man’s voice has suddenly grown tender, and I wonder if he actually wants the best for Caroline, underneath all of this. A lump forms in my throat as it occurs to me that Caroline might have shared some of her heartache with him over the past few days. She has been drinking a lot, and I thought I saw her crying yesterday. Maybe he’s just trying to make her feel better. Maybe he’s just doing the best a father can.
“Tell me, Owen,” the man says, as he steps closer to me. “Are you going to make my little girl happy, or am I going to have to throw you off this damn boat right here and now?”
I am not sure why, but I glance over the side of the cruise ship to gauge the distance, and how much it would hurt. Also, I think about his words. Isn’t this what I always wanted? Don’t I still, deep down, somehow wish that things could have worked out with Caroline? Is there a possibility that things could still work out? Did we just have to go through all this crap to get to a better place?
Staring into this old man’s eyes, I can really see that he just wants the best for Caroline. I think about Liam and Helen, and how they only met because of Richard Winters’ love for his daughter. Maybe I shouldn’t brush Mr. Hoffman off as an insane lunatic, and I should just try to make Caroline—and her family—happy. It’s not like Carmen has tried to get in touch with me lately. And even if she did, how do I know that things would ever work out with her? I’ve been with Caroline for years. I can’t just throw that away.
“Well,” he says again. “Are you going to do it?”
“Yeah,” I say, taking the velvet box out of my pocket and flicking it open. I give a low whistle at the diamond ring nestled in the white gold band. “Just give me a few minutes to prepare myself, and to finish my drink,” I tell the old man.
He beams at me, and claps my back in excitement. “I’ll go get one of the waitresses to catch the proposa
l on film, so we can show it to your grandkids someday.”
Grandkids. That could be nice. I lean over the railing and stare at the ring. Is this really happening? Am I really going to try one last time, to save my relationship with my girlfriend?
Might as well.
It’s a magical night in the Caribbean, and it seems like the right thing to do.
It even seems like the right time to do it.
Okay, it might not totally seem that way… but I think that things could work out for the best.
I mean, my life is already hell. Everything has already spiraled so far out of control. I’m already pretty damn miserable.
What do I have to lose?
Chapter Fourteen
Caroline Hoffman
I take a sip from my nearly-empty drink, listening as my father and Owen banter back and forth about their work. My father keeps trying to one-up Owen by sharing details of impressive tasks he has accomplished, but Owen doesn’t seem to be focused on the conversation. He looks like he’s far away in another land, and just conversing with us on autopilot. I have never seen him so distant and withdrawn, and I can’t stop worrying that something is terribly wrong.
It feels like I’m losing him. I feel like I’ve forced him to come here with me against his will.
If he really wants to be free, shouldn’t I just let him go? Still, it has been lovely to spend this time with him away from the city. It’s only saddening that our vacation will soon come to an end and life will return to normal. Then I’ll have to face all the facts that I’ve been running away from.
“That’s wonderful news, my boy,” Papa says to Owen. “You know, in certain cultures, being able to cure the blind is considered a miracle worthy of sainthood.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Owen replies sheepishly, “but it is really important work. You know, if it weren’t for Caroline, I never would have gotten into ophthalmology.”
