by Maggie Way
The shimmering water reminded me how special life was, that its abundance was as great as the ocean. There were so many memories, great memories, with my Ethan and Phillip…and even Jake.
I glanced at Kai, he noticed and reached for my hand. I was wary of our display of affection in front of the kids. Emily and Ethan giggled while I flinched. Kai withdrew his hand. We were hyper sensitive. The kids were preoccupied, heads together, interested only in the game Ethan held in his hand. They complained about their hunger and my stomach growled in agreement. We were all starving. By the time we arrived at our destination it was nearly 11:30 AM.
Kai wedged the car into a parallel parking spot a block from the Hermosa Beach Pier. We decided on Hennessy’s Tavern located right at the base of the pier and The Strand. It had patio dining with a view. The sun had chased most of the cloud-cover away by the time we sat in our seats.
I watched as Kai considered the kids, glancing back and forth at them and me. He had something to say and shielded his mouth from their view with his menu.
“That guy’s a real prick. He’s too defensive. You’d think he’d be sympathetic. All the cop asked him was if he’d seen anything suspicious.”
I gritted my teeth. “His name’s Zack. My feeling is, it was his friend whose car got towed.”
He nodded in agreement. “Zack called you a…” he mouthed the word bitch, “and said you deserved it. That’s when I said if I found out he had anything to do with it, he’d pay. Then he got all cocky saying, What? You’re threatening me in front of the cops? And he begged for them to write that in their report. I just got in the car and left. That Carty cop knew who I was and just waved for me to get outta there.”
“I hope this is the end of it.” I said uneasily.
Chapter Ten
Kai
Two weeks later.
I hunched back behind the wheel of my car as I waited for Emily to come outside. I was a half hour early. Stacia was still fighting me. She prohibited that I step foot on her property, so every other Saturday I’d pull up and Emily would be waiting outside with her mother. As soon as Stacia spotted my car, she’d hug and kiss Emily goodbye then walk away without any gesture or look in my direction.
I watched the front of her small Pueblo-style home that sat between towering hedges. The narrow neighborhood street was located just a few blocks from the seedy Venice Beach boardwalk. I didn’t like that Emily was housed near such elements. While the property values were in the millions, it was a contrast to the people who massed it’s streets daily.
A slender man with scraggly chin length hair and a goatee emerged from the front gate. I sat up to get a better look, then immediately slumped way down in my seat. I’d parked right across the street. I didn’t want him to notice me as he peered up and down the sidewalk. He must be Stacia’s fiancé. She was getting married to some supposed award-winning movie composer. Maybe he was, but he looked like a used up roadie to me, wearing black denim jeans and a pullover black hoodie. He tucked his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and walked in the direction of the boardwalk. A car passed by slowly and stopped up the street next to him. Like a mob boss, he looked around one more time before getting into the car. “That was totally sketchy.” I said aloud. I looked at the time on my dashboard and then to Stacia’s front door. They should be coming out any minute. I quickly dialed my attorney’s number, leaving a message saying I wanted to know more about Stacia’s fiancé and for her to make it happen however she could. I also inquired about filing for fifty-fifty custody. Things were about to change. I felt it. Concern for Emily was now at the top of my mind after seeing that guy.
Soon enough Emily emerged with her red-checkered backpack slung over her shoulder. Her long dark hair was pulled into a bun. Her eyes were bright as she walked forward. She was the spitting image of me and I knew it killed Stacia, especially now that I was, “Making her life miserable.”
Sorry darlin’.
Stacia looked disheveled with her blonde hair looking ratty and dark circles under her eyes, smudged make-up, no doubt. She wore a vintage Beatles t-shirt and frayed denim shorts. Her figure looked great, but I wondered about the kind of night she’d had by the way she appeared. Everything about the way she seemed and the way Sketch Fiancé looked concerned me. I watched her as she held Emily by the shoulders, speaking to her like she was giving her orders. Emily looked almost afraid and her chin sunk to her chest.
I started my car and honked. Stacia jumped and stared. By the look on her face she was stunned I was sitting there watching them. She pecked Emily on the cheek and quickly walked inside the house. Emily waved coming out of the gate and ran across the street. She looked almost relieved to be getting in the car with me.
“Everything ok?” I asked cupping her cheek.
She shrugged saying, “Let’s just go.”
I pulled away from the curb and Emily glanced toward her house. As we drove away I felt her relax beside me.
“What’s up? You seem upset.”
Her eyes drifted to her lap. “Um, yeah. Mom and Van aren’t getting along.”
My stomach sank. “This Van guy, he’s your mom’s fiancé. They’re getting married right?”
She shook her head yes. “That’s what they tell me.”
“Does she wear a ring? Did he give her one?” As much as Stacia was a bitter pain in the ass ex, I didn’t want her taken advantage of.
She nodded, silent.
“Is he good you?”
“Yes. I really like him.”
“Really?” My voice pitched, not expecting that answer.
“Was that him that came out of the house before you? Long hair and goatee?”
“Mhmm.”
“So I hear he makes music? “Yeah. He does. He does animation music. He’s worked on all sorts of Disney Pixar films.”
“Hmm.” I was impressed and happy to hear he wasn’t some loser, but still wondered about his strange behavior on the street.
“Were they fighting when you left?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” She mumbled looking out her side widow.
I didn’t want to press her on the subject and have her go back to tell her mother I was grilling her about her life. As long as Emily said she was happy I wasn’t going ask any more about Stacia and Van.
My fight for Emily wasn’t easily won. I’d begun my search for her three days after I’d reconnected with Grace. Almost a year had gone by since. Inspired by what Jake went through and how he stepped up, wanting to be a father to a son he didn’t even know he had. Something in me clicked – and I never looked back.
“You feel like bacon?” I asked, glancing at her.
She smiled. “Yes, please.”
“I’m craving French toast and bacon. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds perfect.”
We drove back to Santa Monica to my house, a modern adaptation of a Cape Cod design, where I’d converted my once hopeless bachelor pad into a home. With Grace’s help, the two-story house with four bedrooms was transformed from a cluttered, gear-filled mess with bare walls, to a comfortable, appealing abode. The bedrooms were gutted and reorganized. Grace helped me realize if I was going to seek custody of my daughter, then I had to make some changes in order to turn my house into a home. So one bedroom became Emily’s room, another was converted into an office, while the third remained a usable guest room and finally my master bedroom was turned responsible with Grace’s touches.
I immediately went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. It was about 10:30 AM.
“You have homework?” I asked. She usually did.
“Yeah. Just reading. I have to do like a book report thing.”
A heavy thud sounded and I turned in the direction of the sound. It must have come from the drop of her backpack. “Whad’ya got in that thing?”
She leaned against the kitchen counter and stared, frowning at her phone. She sighed and scoffed looked up at me. “I’m sorry, what?”
“What’s in your backpack that’s so heavy?”
It sat on the floor next to the couch and she stared at it. “Um. Oh, my math book. It’s like three inches thick.” She groaned. “I have a math packet due too.”
She put her phone on the counter and went for the fridge. She stared long and hard inside, drowning in her oversized sweatpants and t-shirt. I found myself wanting to tell her to close the door if she didn’t know what she wanted, just like my mom used to tell me. Finally she grabbed the carton of orange juice. Pouring herself a glass.
“Can I help?” She asked and took a gulp of juice.
“Nope, but you can start on your homework so you don’t have to worry about it when we’re at the movies.”
“Ok.” She watched me lay the bacon into the pan. “Do I have time to shower before it’s ready?”
“Depends how long you’re planning to take.”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Go for it.”
She took her juice and went upstairs where she had everything she needed. A quacking noise sounded from her phone. She’d left it sitting on the counter. Curious I stepped to see who it was. It was a text from – MotherBoBummer.
Stacia.
I couldn’t help but pick up her phone and read it. What appeared on the screen didn’t make me happy – Please tell your dad that you don’t want to hang out with Grace and you’d like to spend quality time with just him. That’s what this whole thing is supposed to be about. Love you. See you soon. Stunned, but not really, I put her phone back down.
I wanted to send a heated reply back, but my bacon needed tending. Grabbing the tongs I stared at the frying pan, thinking. Emily would know I’d read it as soon as she picked up her phone and I stewed about what to say. As I flipped the bacon and whipped the eggs for the French toast, I supposed what Stacia wrote was technically accurate. But her request was out of line. Grace was a part of my life and no different than Van, her fiancé. If things kept going well between Grace and I, we could be married before them.
I removed the last of the bacon from the pan and blotted the pieces with a paper towel. Just as I started the French toast I could hear Emily coming down the stairs. She had a white towel wrapped around her hair and wore the same sweatpants I’d picked her up in. A fresh white t-shirt reading FEED ME replaced the one she arrived in. My heart skipped a beat when she went straight for her phone. I watched her as she tapped at its screen. Finally her eyes darted over to me. We stood silently staring at each other.
I never did figure out what to say.
“I like Grace.” She admitted softly.
“I’m sorry about reading the message.” I said, and returned flipping the toast. Then I offered more of an explanation. “It made a quacking sound I’d never heard before so, my curiosity got the best of me.”
“It’s ok.” She smiled seeming unaffected by my snooping. “I think she’s kinda jealous.”
A sorry grin bent at my lips. I flipped the toast again and stepped to her side giving her a hug. “I get a little jealous too when you’re not with me.”
Her arms bent around my waist and the warmth from her hug filled my heart with something that had been lacking – the love of my child.
Chapter Eleven
Grace
Another two weeks later.
Next time the vandals used eggs. Their white shells lay cracked at my feet in a jagged array of goopy egg yolks. I wanted to scream. At least a dozen of them lay cracked and splattered on my doorstep, in front of my garage and on my car. Not only was I cleaning up dozens of eggs the last two mornings. My car never recovered from its fish poisoning and I was fighting my insurance company about it. Things had been uneventful for a couple weeks, but as soon as I got my driveway cleaned, the vandals began to attack again.
I spent an entire Sunday morning cleaning and scrubbing yolks and shells away. There were hints of stains on the stucco surrounding the garage door. These pranks were now about to cost me some serious money to repair the damage.
“Someone must really hate you.” A male voice startled me from my crouched position at the front of my garage. Zack’s friend (the guy whose car got towed) walked past my driveway with his trashy girlfriend in tow. I stared at her lips, I recognized that pink shade of lipstick. She was the one who’d been flicking cigarettes on my driveway.I fantasized them bursting into flames right in front of my eyes and turned my back on them. Their jeering laughter roiled my gut and I prayed Zack would move sooner rather than later. Hosing down my driveway one last time, I thought of Kai. It’d been several weeks since we’d spent any quality time together and I grew tingly inside at the thought of being alone with him.
Making one final swoop through the house, I tidied up the living room, carrying Ethan’s shoes, toys and books into his room. Walking the upstairs hallway, I looked at the walls strewn with frameless pictures stretched over various canvas sizes. All of them were newly produced black and white or sepia toned nature shots. I’d taken them myself with a camera Phillip had given me as a birthday present one year. The process had been cathartic. The wall beneath them was formally a light tan color, now painted white.
Strolling into my bedroom, I recalled how Jake had inspired me to find the courage to move on, to grow, to memorialize where appropriate. I’d changed the paint when I’d finally emptied out Phillip’s closet in the master bedroom. The entire interior of the house was repainted. After two and half years of grieving, I’d felt reborn. Large hanging family portraits were replaced with smaller picture frames placed in special areas of the living room and Ethan’s bedroom. A lot about the house had changed since I stopped grieving. I’d made sure to take the steps necessary to move on from my husband’s death, Jake had been a stepping stone to a new healthy relationship with Kai – who happened to be my first love.
Life certainly had a way about it, unpredictably crushing yet gloriously healing.
Kai arrived with two brown paper bags, one with a bushel of red roses sticking out.
“Gracie, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
I stepped to his side and plucked the heap of roses from the bag. Breathing in their fragrance, I pecked him on the lips. “I love them. Thank you.”
“Ok, I’ve got two surprises.” A wicked glint flashed in his eyes. He reached into the other bag and took out a box. “It’s another camera. I’m gonna install it and we’re gonna catch the mother fuckers who’re doing this to you.”
I sighed and felt embarrassed to tell him it happened again last night. Reaching under the sink, I took out a vase for the roses. “I cleaned up at least three dozen eggs before you got here.”
Kai’s jaw hung open. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help clean it up. You should have left it for me.”
“Don’t be silly. Eggs need to be dealt with as soon as possible. Friday night’s ambush left lines of yolk above the garage door. I thought I got it all. The stucco is ruined.”
“We’re gonna catch’em with this.” He shimmied the box at me. “I’ve got someone coming over to help me install it.”
Kai’s green eyes grew a shade darker as he took the box in both hands reading it. I clipped each rose stem and arranged them just so in the vase as I watched Kai. He’d become a man that I was proud to call mine. The same as his younger self, but mature in ways that I could have only dreamed of back when we were young. Placing the vase on the kitchen table, I admired them for a moment while Kai removed food items from the bags.
“What do you got there?” I strode to the fridge where he was putting stuff away.
“I’m gonna make you dinner and we’re gonna drink that wine over there. Then we’re gonna watch the live camera feed and hope to catch someone tonight.”
I rubbed his back. “You’re my savior.”
He gave me a seductive stare and he tugged me into his arms. “I’ve been dreaming about you.”
I grinned. “Oh really? And what about?”
He kissed me full on the lips, luscious and long, before sayi
ng, “Making you scream my name.”
Kai’s voice was deep and rapt with passion as he whispered his fantasies in my ear. A yearning radiated down my thighs. We swayed our way into the living room lip-locked where we collapsed on the sofa, hot and heavy like teenagers trying to get our romp in before the parents got home.
We snuggled under fuzzy throw blankets and watched TV, some expose on the most notorious mob bosses of the twentieth century. It felt strange lying on my couch naked. We’d just christened the sofa. I’d never had sex anywhere in the house but my bed, my old bed. I thought about Kai walking the halls upstairs and lying in my new bed but in the room I’d once shared with my husband. I wasn’t ready for him to share that space with me, not yet.
Kai’s friend Andrew, an electrician, arrived just past 2:30 PM and they began the arduous task of installing the little dome camera to the awning just over the west side of the garage. Andrew explained to me he wanted to hardwire it in instead of using a more convenient wireless one. “It provides a clearer image than the wireless types. It has high-resolution, playback, night vision infrared technology. Don’t let the size fool ’ya. This little puppy is the king of residential surveillance,” he explained.
Every time I went out to check on their progress, I observed the streets and who might be next door. I didn’t want anyone to know we were installing a camera. Andrew was pretty fast at getting the discreet camera mounted. Kai held a drill in his hand as he switched places with Andrew on the ladder. A deep humming sound began and pitched higher as shards of stucco flew every which way. He drilled a small hole into the side of my house and stuffed the thin wires through it. Andrew gently tugged them through to the inside of the garage, running them through his hands to smooth out the kinks. When the hole was filled with clear sealant the door was ready to come down.
