Falling Stars (The B–Side)
Page 25
“That depends,” Hunter said.
Stepping back I licked my upper lip while cocking my head sideways.
“On what?” I laughed.
Standing up, he grabbed the keys and then my hand while walking towards the door. When he slid the glass open, a strong gust of warm ocean air rushed in. The sun had set hours ago and bright stars shined in the moonless night. Giving a gentle tug of resistance, I playfully pulled him back and demanded a response.
“If happily ever after is what you want, you must decide what that looks like to you. It is different for everyone, which is why there is no true definition of the concept. Did you ever notice that? The author always leaves it open for interpretation.”
Closing my eyes, I giggled when Hunter gave a gentle shake. I opened them slowly and stared into his emerald irises, which glistened with adoration and mischief. Knowing where he wanted to take me tonight, I stopped procrastinating and gave him a light kiss.
“Let’s go,” I whispered.
Hunter turned the ignition to the jeep and backed out slowly. The darkness was more so than I had ever experienced before. Without light pollution or the moon, it enveloped you thick and hauntingly. Jungle insects and creatures of all kinds vibrated the night air with calls and natural expressions. The road, if it could be called that was rough and precarious. We moved slowly towards the dock with our kayaks, careful to take our time.
You aren’t supposed to swim in the bay on Vieques, but it was still beautiful to see from the surface. Each slice of the paddle disturbed the plankton and caused beautiful blue light to radiate out. The kayaks left a trail, and every small and large fish beneath the surface gave up their hiding place with every slight movement. I followed Hunter into the mangroves, away from the typical traffic of tourism groups, and slowly glided through the calm waters. Above us the night was brilliantly mapped with stars, all visible because of the new moon. A few times a month we could escape to this place, bringing a small cooler and waiting for the sun to rise. We didn’t have to speak or entertain one another. If a large stingray was curious and came close to the kayaks, we would give a short, quiet signal, but we left one another to our own thoughts and experiences of the moment.
We bought the plot of land on the island called Cerro Martineau not far from the W Hotel. Building a home just large enough to house a studio, office, guest room and outdoor shower, we thought it was perfect. Our families came down often, but we largely decided to go off the grid and spend time decompressing from everything that happened. We did well in bubbles, isolated from the rest of the world, both holding the paradox of sensitivity. Our lives were spent entertaining thousands, if not millions of people, yet we preferred to stay an observer to society versus a participant.
“I think happily ever after starts when you stop chasing the dragon.”
My words broke the quiet as slow circles were carved into the water’s surface with my fingertips. Hunter sat up and paddled closer to where I was.
“What was that?” he asked.
Looking up, but continuing to brush my hand back and forth, stirring up the vibrant blue lights, I repeated myself.
“I think happily ever after starts when you stop chasing the dragon. In fairytales, the antagonist has been vanquished or overcome and the protagonist left to live free of the conflict. Some people do not grow from situations, therefore always chasing the dragon. I think some people do it for so long, they are afraid to kill it because they know nothing else.”
Hunter stirred his hand alongside mine, touching the fingertips and then playfully wiping along the top of my nose.
“That’s a very honest observation, Lila. People do get so lost in the drama of everyday life, they forget it’s a choice whether they participate in it or not. It’s good to know that your heart wasn’t hardened by what happened. For everything that you have been through, you always seem to find a light in the darkness. It’s a gift and why I love you so much.”
I laughed and made a big splash. “A gift that always gets me into trouble.”
Hunter splashed back and pulled my kayak closer to his. The sky was turning a deep shade of violet, indicating that the sun was rising quickly. I could only see the outline of shadows unless the water was disturbed. I felt his breath close to my face, and then he found my lips and gave me a deep kiss.
“Lila, did you ever think for a moment that when you find yourself in these situations, maybe it wasn’t about anything you did wrong, or about you at all? You wrote in The Little Traveler that we don’t always get to see the “why,” but that God has his reasons. How do you know God doesn’t let you go into these dark places as a punishment, but to serve as a light to others?”
“No, I haven’t thought of it that way,” I replied quietly.
It was a lot to take in. Hunter did not push and left me to watch the horizon give birth to a new day. If the creator of the universe chose me to be a guide, I couldn’t help but think why and where was I going? Some things we are not privy to, and to trust that our lives will mean something really is at the heart of human existence.
Shades of magenta and tangerine gave way to brilliant golden beams shooting in every direction. Thin gold lines danced across the ocean surface with each ripple and small wave in the bay. Laying back, hand in hand, we watched as the yellow orb lifted out of the depths and claimed its place in the sky. Turning his head and giving a soft smile, Hunter squinted and stated we needed to head back. As we paddled towards the dock, I turned and looked at the mangroves one last time. Although he was being figurative, I was thinking literally.
We would always have this place, it was ours, and nothing could change that. However our lives were not best served living away from where it could make a difference. Hunter and I may never earn a Nobel Prize for sharing our gifts with the world, but that did not make them unimportant. Each of us is blessed with a talent, our inner light that makes us unique, which must be nurtured on a consistent basis. And although it may not be in words, I do believe everyone has a story to tell. I sincerely hope you tell yours . . .
I know a lot of people use this as an opportunity to sound like they won a Golden Globe. I am no exception. The B Side almost never happened. If not for the encouragement of my tribe, it would have sat unfinished, taken out of publication, never to be seen again. But, I am thankful for the events that have transpired until these words were typed.
“Part of your story is missing” was true in real life. I had to grow as a person in order to give Lila and Hunter, and you the reader, what I thought was a beautiful ending. If you are reading this, thank you for being a part of this story. Now about that speech . . .
Carlos, I could have not written a more perfect match to who I am, much less who I could be as an artist, woman, and human being. You lift me up daily, and continue to blow me away with your own talent. Thank you for encouraging me to finish this story, and being a part of it. I love you!
Jodie Stipetich—you were the first to suggest I write this story, and I was just as stubborn about telling it. I love your face and every moment we have shared.
Donna Sabino, Erin Knaus, Melanie Hazard and Tammy Hanson—you have been with me since almost the beginning. If anyone recognizes your names in the stories, it’s because each one of you ladies have earned immortality in my heart and on the pages I write.
Audrey Harte—you rescued me (literally) on many occasions, and this was no exception. Thank you for being an honest voice when things were not right and encouraging me to press onward. You have a beautiful soul, and I am honored we are friends.
Tami Norman from Integrity Formatting—you started out as someone who first read Distractions, and since have been entrusted with each of my works to ensure they are something spectacular. Your early words of affirmation made me realize I had something special, thank you for being a part of this journey.
Letitia Hasser from RBA Designs—what can I say besides WOW! I know we had been waiting a while to collaborate, and you blew this cover
out of the ballpark. Your work is incredible and I cannot wait to watch our babies grow and continue fun projects together.
Photographer extraordinaire Scott Hoover and Model Jase Dean for the amazing photo used to create the cover, a dream come true from two fantastic men!
Stephanie Phillips from Stephanie’s Book Reports and Natasha Bennett from Scandalous Book Blog in the UK, your support and belief in my talent over the years have been the fuel that helped me to type the ending. You help so many Indie writers find an audience, and for that I wish you many blessings. Thank you a million times over for what you do for me!
For all of the DJs and friends from the scene who are the reason this story even happened and let me include them in these pages, including my brother Jason Brooks aka Nautigroove, Trip Turlington, Justin Simpson, Jack Sheets aka Mr.Shifter, Troll, Sinister, Twilight Sleep, Seth Nichols with Love Vinyl Records, Michael Nunnery, Corey Chaos, Matty, my girls Lisa, Jenny and Kelly, and so many more, thank you for giving me something so special and unique it was worth writing about. For everyone else, you know the drill. Don’t be butt hurt. Just write your name in the space below and take some credit!
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(Your name here)
Love,
JL Brooks
JL Brooks is a bestselling novelist and motivational entrepreneur. A former women’s health columnist, she infuses her passion for story telling with philanthropic endeavors. Her writings have been used to support The Amanda Todd Legacy, Books for Heroes, the Avon Breast Cancer Walk and the research of Dr. Vincent Tuohy, the creator of the breast cancer vaccine. In 2015 she was the Program Director for the RT Readers and Writers Roundup, and co-hosted the “Business of Self-Publishing” seminar at the RT Book Lovers Convention in Dallas, TX. Her latest project with Storybook Makeup raises money to purchase personal cosmetic kits for women going through chemotherapy and partnering with other beauty industry professionals to offer free sessions.
Find JL Brooks at:
Authorjlbrooks@gmail.com
www.amazon.com/author/jlbrooks
www.goodreads.com/AuthorJLBrooks