I went inside and began familiarizing myself with the house and making a grocery list after a nice hot shower. By the time I settled in it was after lunch and I realized it was too quiet, so I turned on some music and pulled out my Kindle to read on the porch in my bathing suit to start working on my tan. Californian’s have tans. Maybe I’ll die my hair blonde to fit in. Nah. With my luck it’ll turn pink.
A while later I heard the doorbell ring and wondered who the hell that could be. Maybe it’s a friendly neighbor wanting to know who’s here.
I wrapped a robe around myself and opened the door. “Bret. What are you doing here?”
He pushed past me walking inside. “How do you like the place?”
“It’s nice, but you being here wasn’t part of the deal.” I closed the door and followed him inside.
“We need to talk.” He went to the fridge and pulled out a beer.
“About what?”
He took a drink as he pulled out his wallet and handed me a picture. “Recognize her?”
I took the picture and immediately sat on the closest chair. “Caroline.” It was a spitting image of me, but it wasn’t, it’s my twin. “Where is she?”
“Dead. She left me a widow two years ago. Took her own life.” He walked around the room.
“Why?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the picture.
“She had depression issues stemming from her past. I never knew the details. When I saw you in Vegas I knew I had to find out.”
“Did you lose that game on purpose?”
“No. I knew either way I’d have time to ask you what I needed to know.”
“You were her husband?”
“Yes. Married one year before she died. Overdosed on pills and Wild Turkey.”
“Shit.” I put the picture on the table unable to look at it now.
He sat across from me. “She never told me she had a sister, let alone a twin. When I saw you sitting at the Poker table I lost it. For two days I watched you wondering if she’d somehow faked her death to get away from me. Then we played and I knew it wasn’t her.”
“This is too much of a coincidence. How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
He pulled his wallet back out and set it on the table badge up. “I’m a deputy with the Nevada State police. I don’t get off on lying. When I ran your prints I found out who you both were. She lied to me and married me under a false name. I never knew my wife.”
“Wow. I’m sorry she did that, but I haven’t seen her since we were separated. I can’t help you.”
“I think you can. Tell me what happened. Why were you separated?”
“No. I’m not telling a perfect stranger that story. If she wanted you to know, she would have told you. I think you should leave. No, I’ll pack up and leave. This is just too weird.” I stood up to walk him out.
“What’s weird is walking into my usual casino, at my usual table, and finding the mirror image of my dead wife sitting there playing Poker. Sit down Carly. I’m not going to hurt you, but I will have my answers.” He sounded a little too much like Joe suddenly.
“Okay, now you’re freaking me out.” I paced.
“Why is that?”
“You sounded a lot like my…never mind.”
“Like the man who put that ring on your finger?” He asked nodding towards my hand.
I looked at the ring. “Yes.”
“Who is he? Your husband?”
“You could say that. He was called back into the military almost six months ago. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“I’m sorry. You must have loved him.”
“More than I ever thought possible.” I looked at him. “You really should go.”
“Not until I know why my wife never told me what happened to her as a child that ultimately took her life. You’re the only one with an explanation. I’m not leaving without it.” He insisted.
I sat on the couch. “If I tell you, will you leave?”
“Yes.”
I took a deep breath. “Fine.” I gave him the same story I’d told Joe, minus the part about what happened to me after we were separated.
He sat back waiting out the story before saying, “That’s one hell of a tale. The problem is, it doesn’t tell me a damn thing about what happened to her after you were separated.”
“Not my fault. I lost track of her.”
“What happened to you after?” He asked.
“Nothing I’m going to share with you. Time to leave.” I nodded towards the door.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask, doesn’t mean I’m going to oblige you.”
“I lost my wife too young. Seeing you makes me want to get to know her through you. Let me stay, like I said, no strings. I just want to talk to you, her. She kept so many things to herself.”
I sighed realizing being alone in this house was only asking for my own misery. How am I supposed to let Joe go if I’m alone with my memories of him all the time?
“You stay as a guest. I leave one year from today and we part ways. There’s not a chance in hell this will be anymore than a friendship. Got it?”
“Deal. It’s too creepy thinking of you that way. I loved my wife very much. No matter how many women I’ve had since then, none come close. I need a break, and to give myself time to mourn. I think once it sinks in that your sister has passed away, you’re going to want to mourn her too. Maybe I can help by telling you about her as I knew her.” He offered.
“Alright, you can stay, in the guest room. I did win the game after all.”
He smiled and I blinked. “Thank you Carly.”
I shook my head a little trying to clear my thoughts. Seeing Bret smile made me wonder what Joe would look like if he smiled. Would his smile consume his face like Bret’s does? I really have to stop thinking this way.
“You’re cooking.” I told him. Cooking for a man that is not Joe, is not going to happen.
“You got it.” He seemed to relax.
“What did you say?”
He repeated himself absently going to the kitchen.
I had to tell myself everybody says ‘you got it.’ Not just Joe. Stacy had said it right after he did the night we found Michelle. Then again, she was probably just echoing him.
The next couple weeks I got to know Bret pretty well. He’s kind of a comedian. Okay, he thinks he’s a comedian, and therefore makes me laugh, even when I think he’s an idiot.
He doesn’t hover, and leaves me alone when I go out every night to watch the sunset on the beach. I talk to Joe, pray for him, and mourn him. I need this time every day to purge the sadness, anger at him, and fear of what my life is going to be like without him. Even though I don’t know if he’s dead or alive, I still mourn him.
I heard Bret pull up so I went to open the door for him knowing he’d have groceries. “What did you do? Buy out the store?”
He smiled like he does, “I tried. They were out of your favorite wine, I think you drank it all.”
“Probably. I’ll live. What the hell did you get?”
He set the bags down and I saw the paper bag moving before he stuck his hand in and pulled out a flailing lobster, “Want to boil shellfish alive? You can pretend it’s Joe.” He knows I’m dealing with anger as much as the sadness.
I laughed, “Yes!!”
He dropped the lobster in the sink before it got him. “Tell me about Joe. Do you have a picture of him?” This is the first time he’s really asked. I didn’t think much of it because we’ve kind of run out of other subjects.
“He’s a good man. Big like you, but dark hair and long beard. I miss that beard. He used to wake me up tickling my neck with it every morning.” I took the bottle of wine he’d bought and opened it. “He loves fiercely, like he does everything.” I told him about the night we saved Michelle.
“Wow. Poor kid. Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. I turned my phone off the day I left.”
“How is Joe supposed
to find you?”
“He has GPS on the Mercedes. If…when he wants to find me, he will.”
“Are you giving up on him?” He asked setting the second lobster in the sink. It had escaped and was halfway across the stove.
“No. But I am giving up on ever being happy again without him.”
“That’s too bad. Did you say he was a biker?” He asked casually.
“Yeah. His brother is the highest ranked President west of the Mississippi. Joe had just retired from the service when he came back to the club. He used to sit in on council meetings and stuff, but he didn’t seem to have a rank to speak of. I was still learning how all that shit worked when he was taken away.”
“Taken away?”
I described the helicopter and how I had to say goodbye to him.
“Sounds like something out of a movie.”
“I thought that too. Anyway, I tried to stick around for a couple weeks, but everything and everyone brought me to tears reminding me of him. So, I went to the noisiest city I could think of. The rest is history.” I sat with my wine to watch Bret cook, again. He’s quite good. He has good taste in wine too.
He held a lobster up over boiling water and looked at me, “Joe? Or Caroline?”
“You bought, you go first.” I laughed.
He lowered the lobster in and looked at it, “This is for the pain you caused me by not being strong enough to live for me.”
I got up and picked up the other lobster, “And this is for the pain you caused me, by leaving and not making me your first priority.” I dropped the poor guy in quickly.
“If Joe is alive, and I hope he is, he’s a stupid man for leaving you.”
I tapped my glass to his beer bottle. “Won’t argue that.”
We laughed and ate talking about anything but Caroline and Joe. It was nice.
11
Another couple weeks went by and I started thinking about leaving. I need more commotion to drown my brain. Bret is cool, and he’s been a great friend, but I’m getting close to using him to try and forget Joe. That would be wrong, and probably wouldn’t work anyway.
I decided it was only fair to be honest with Bret. He’s flipping burgers on the grill outside.
“I need to leave Bret.”
“Why?”
“It’s too quiet here. I wanted to thank you for talking to me about Charlotte. I feel like I know her a little better now, as an adult, not just as a kid.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry you’re leaving, but I understand.” He put a burger on a bun and handed it to me. “Do me a favor and keep in touch. We don’t have to talk every day, but it would be nice to hear from you now and then to know you’re okay.”
“I can do that.” We enjoyed our last meal together. He surprised me by packing up and leaving that night. He said goodbye and kissed me on the forehead with what seemed to be a slightly defeated look on his face.
I walked down to the beach and sat in the sand for what was likely my last night here. Without Bret this place is way too quiet.
I cried into my wine until I couldn’t cry anymore. I set my glass down and walked out into the water. Fuck it. No city will ever be busy enough to forget Joe. I can’t go home, not even to my life before Joe. He’d broken me. What’s the point of living now? If my sister can take her own life, then maybe the ocean can take mine if I give it freely.
I swam as hard and as far as I could. If I get out far enough I should be able to drown. Maybe I’ll see Joe as I die. It would be nice to see him one last time.
I floated on my back and looked at the stars. “I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for loving me. You stole everything from me when you left.” I cried again not feeling the tears past the sea water.
I couldn’t drown and it pissed me off so I slapped the water and righted myself to try for another swim. Maybe I’ll get a cramp this time.
“Are you done?” Bret’s voice asked in the dark.
“Shit! What are you doing here?”
“I had a bad feeling you’d try something like this. I’ve seen that look before. Come on, let’s go in.” He swam towards me.
I swam backwards, “No!! Just…go away!!”
He lunged and caught my foot.
I spit water when I came up caught in his arm, “Sorry Carly. I lost one beautiful redhead, I’m not losing another.” He swam me back in, dropped me on the sand and yelled, “Are you fucking stupid?!! Did you think I wouldn’t find out my wife’s twin sister committed suicide just outside my beach house??!!!” He’s really mad reminding me of how Joe got when he was mad the night before he left.
I sank to the sand and cried harder than I’ve ever cried in my life.
Bret scooped me up and carried me inside. “I’m going to put you in the shower and leave again, but I will be watching you. You want to be alone, fine, but I’m never taking my eyes off you.”
He set me down on the bathroom counter and left slamming the door behind him.
I took a shower and crashed out from physical exhaustion.
For the next two days I was a zombie. Too fucked up in the head to drive, too depressed to go back to Vegas. I knew Bret was watching me so I didn’t try anything stupid again. I guess I’m doomed to my misery.
Tonight the sunset did nothing for me as I sat in the sand watching it. I laid on my back to watch the stars come out.
“Who’s house is this?”
I jumped up thinking I heard Joe’s voice. It took me a minute to focus. “Joe?”
“Answer the question.” He ordered.
I jumped him. “Is it really you? Am I dreaming again?!”
He pulled me off and set me down. “What are you doing here?” He’s mad.
I grabbed his beard and hunted for his eyes. “It is you.”
“Answer the fucking question Carly!!”
I let go and felt my heart crack. “Don’t you dare yell at me!”
“Who’s house is this?” His voice is deeper now.
“It’s a long story. What took you so long?!” I felt the tears overflowing again. This crying shit is really getting old.
“You better start explaining right now.” He ordered.
I closed my eyes wondering if I’d fallen asleep on the beach again and maybe this was a dream…nightmare. I opened my eyes to find my very angry man staring me down.
“I won it for a year in Vegas. Turns out the guy I won it from was my twin sister’s husband, now widow because she killed herself. He said it was an accident running into me there.” I waved it off. “It doesn’t matter. I only stayed here to take a break from Vegas.”
“You left the club.” He’s really mad.
“I had to!! I kept seeing you everywhere! It was making me insane. Although moving didn’t do much to help.” I admitted.
“What ‘guy’ did you win this from?”
“His name is Bret. Trust me, nothing happened. In fact, you should thank him for saving my life the other night.”
“Bret who?” He asked suddenly suspicious.
“St. Clair. Why?”
He spun around and yelled, “You son of a fucking bitch!!! GET OUT HERE!!”
“Joe, he’s not here.”
“The hell he’s not.” He argued taking me by the arm.
“You know him? Ow, you’re hurting me.”
“Did you fuck him?” He shoved me in front of him to step up onto the patio.
“Of course not! What the hell?!” I turned only to get backed up into the house.
“I should have known he’d pull something like this.” He complained. “Pack your shit, we’re leaving now.”
“You know what, bite me.” I stopped and put my hands on my hips. “How dare you fucking leave me for six months and walk in here like this!”
He bore down on me. “How dare you fuck my brother.”
“I didn’t fuck anybody you jerk!!”
“Yeah right. I know Bret, you’ve probably been rolling around in bed with him for months.”
“You son of a bitch.” My temper hit a new high.
He grabbed my purse to find my phone and tapped the screen. He tossed it on the table as it rang three times. “Glad you made it back alive brother.” Bret’s voice purred.
I was speechless.
“You have balls fucking with my wife while I’m gone.” Joe said all to calmly.
“You’re the idiot who left her.” Bret accused.
“Where are you so I can finally kill you?”
I found my voice through anger. “Wait! Bret is your brother?!” I looked into Joe’s very angry eyes.
Bret laughed on the other end. “Don’t worry Bro, she’s as loyal as they come. She wanted to take her own life for you.”
“Bret?” I picked up the phone.
“Yes Darlin”?”
“Were you really my sister’s husband?”
“No. I know your whole story. Charlotte did take her own life, but she never knew me.”
“What do you mean whole story?” I have a bad feeling.
“The only part of the last month that wasn’t a lie, was how much I like you. When my brother fucks up, and I assure you he will. I’ll be waiting to give you the life you deserve.” He disconnected.
I closed my eyes. Everything about Bret was a lie. Joe is here, and he hates me. Now I really regret not drowning. I found the chair and sat. “Go ahead. Get it over with.”
“Did you sleep with him?” I can tell he’s pacing.
“No.” I almost said yes just to get this over with. I figure it would serve him right to find out he killed me for no reason. I couldn’t do it though.
“Did you want to?”
“I thought about it, to forget you. But I realized that wouldn’t be fair and decided to move instead.” I found some inner strength and stood up to find vodka. It’s amazing how your attitude changes when you stop giving a shit about everything.
He followed me. “You haven’t been with him?”
“Fuck off Joe.” I drank from the bottle. No sense in leaving dishes.
“Look at me.”
Down & Dirty Page 12
