by Lorenzo, DD
Declan gave him a dismissive look.
“This is one, and the one you gave me is the second. I think I can handle that much—mother,” he said sarcastically.
Carter returned the look with one of his own and placed his hands up. It was an unspoken directive that he was watching out for him.
“Just checking,” he said.
Declan wasn’t engaging in his normal verbal sparring, which was a clear indication to Carter of the mood he was in, and that he was thinking much more seriously than he should be in such a place of relaxation. He decided to feel him out.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he nodded inquisitively.
Declan gave him a blank stare. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Carter began, “…usually you’d be bitchin at me for something—showing up unannounced, watch dogging you on your meds…something—but you’re not. You’re, pretty much, giving me one word answers, and not lectures. That’s not like you. What gives?”
Declan looked at his brother like he wanted to shut down and withdrawal, but he remembered Dr. Rhodes saying that it could help his memories if he just engaged more in conversations with people he could trust…about anything, small or large. The doctor said to make an effort to be more open.
If he couldn’t rely on Carter, or Blake, to be trustworthy, who could he trust?
“I was just thinking,” he started, “well, about…just everything.”
He was hesitant. Carter could see it was difficult for him as he continued.
“I’m glad that I was able to work today, you know?”
He looked at his brother in question.
“This is the first job I’ve taken in front of a camera since everything happened,” he confessed.
Carter was surprised at his brother’s vulnerability, and it made him feel more protective of him than he had since they were boys.
“How did you do with that?” he asked.
“Okay, I think,” Declan professed. “It was a long day on my leg—the longest I’ve had since everything happened. My physical therapist would have been proud!” He chuckled, giving Carter a snide look. “Standing all day wore me out much more than I thought it would,” he said, taking a drink, “…but it did feel good to get back to that end of the business.”
He paused for a minute. He opened up just a bit more as he gave Carter a strange, almost exposed expression that Carter hadn’t seen before.
“I’ll be honest with you, Carter,” he said, frowning. “I didn’t think they’d ever want me in shorts, or a bathing suit again. I mean, look at it”—he looked down at his limb—“even I think it’s hideous, but they were okay with it.” He looked back at Carter. “It felt, well…kind of good.”
Carter took a big gulp of his beer. It ripped him inside to hear his brother’s hurt, but it felt good that he’d opened up to him and he waited to see if Declan was going to offer anything more. He knew from overhearing the nightmares that there was more.
Declan looked like he was struggling to continue the conversation, so Carter decided to push a little more and play inquisitor.
“Thinking about anything else?” he asked.
“Like what?” Declan answered.
“Like…Aria?” his brother questioned, opening up a more personal topic.
Declan’s lips tightened, and Carter saw his hands grip the neck of the bottle with a bit more force.
“Maybe,” he answered. “Just a little.”
Carter sat back, looking away from his brother.
“Yeah,” he said. “I thought so.”
“You’re full of shit Carter!” He laughed. “How would you think so?”
Carter took his time, crossing one ankle over the other to give his brother a few minutes to regroup. Declan was staring hard at him with a smug expression.
“Well,” Carter began, “first, you’re my brother, so you think a hell of a lot like me. Since I’ve been here, on the island, I haven’t been able to stop having a thought once in a while, that I’d be enjoying this place a whole lot better if Lacey were here to enjoy it with me.”
He lifted the bottle to his lips, took a sip, and swallowed.
“That’s how I think, so…I figured you’d be feeling the same about Aria.”
Immediately, feelings of remorse fell over Declan. He didn’t feel he was always good with the right words to express himself, but he searched for the ones to apologize for his idiotic and selfish behavior. He was making this all about him again, forgetting about his brother’s pain. Although he had made progress in his counseling sessions, he still had work to do to remind himself that everyone had things they were dealing with in their own lives that were a struggle as well.
“Carter, I—I…” He struggled, but pushed himself, “You’re right. Lacey would have loved it here.”
He gave up. There were no words to apologize for being such an ass. He just decided to try and salvage the remainder of the night.
Reclining on his own chair once again, there was one thought that occurred to him that he could safely voice as they both looked out over the ocean.
“…Aria would have loved it here too,” he said as both his voice and thoughts drifted off. “I would have loved seeing Hawaii through her eyes. There’s a part of me that wishes…I just wish…”
He couldn’t finish. His vocal chords wouldn’t obey the simplicity of his thoughts.
Carter heard the struggle as his voice faded off like gravel and he knew the degree of effort it took for his brother to expose himself emotionally; he had experienced this same occurrence in conversations after Lacey’s passing. He interjected in a modest attempt to assist him.
“It’s okay. I get it. Believe me, Dec, I get it…”
Flying never excited Marisol, but first class had always made it more bearable. If she were unable to have Marchelle at her beck and call, the flight attendants would serve to cater to her needs. It was a necessity for her to have assistants at her disposal. She hadn’t attained the status of supermodel by allowing people to behave without showing her the proper respect. She craved and demanded it. Nothing less would suffice, nor would it be tolerated.
Marchelle always traveled wherever Marisol was seen in a location shoot. Most times, Marisol used Marchelle as a decoy to get coffee or run errands while she slept or bathed. They were almost identical, though Marisol believed she was the more beautiful of the two, but enough alike to fool the general public. She hadn’t allowed Marchelle to learn too much English, instead picking and choosing the words she could say should paparazzi get too close to her while on an errand. This was Marisol’s safety net. Marchelle could be used effectively as a semi-mute puppet.
She and her sister had always been close when they were little girls. They suffered at the hands of their father, who hated the two of them for being yet another financial burden, but Marisol, who was named Marianna after her father’s grandmother, refused to allow him to break her. He’d give her the harshest of spankings, and she’d refuse to utter a sound. Only her sister would see the unshed tears that filled her eyes. He then decided that the most effective way to break her arrogant spirit was to punish them both, as Marchelle was very timid and was usually Marianna’s playmate. He thought it would break them both, but that only sufficed to drive them closer.
The day that he decided to put both of their little hands to the blistering hot stove, scorching and burning the pads of their fingertips, Marchelle was never the same; but neither was Marianna. Marchelle cowered around him, hiding in corners. She was no longer a happy little girl and didn’t sing or play with her sister, choosing to stand behind her when Papi came near. This infuriated Marianna because he damaged something that didn’t belong to him—it belonged to her.
How dare he interfere with her playmate! He broke her and he would pay!
What he didn’t count on was Marianna’s patience. She nursed Marchelle’s charred fingers until the blisters healed, all the while looking after her own wounds. S
he told Marchelle that they were now the same, holding up her hand, showing that both were now missing fingerprints. She made certain that the two of them ate whatever was put before them, whenever they received it, to make them as strong as possible. Marianna kept a watchful eye on Papi, knowing where he was at all times.
One night, when all was quiet in the house, her father came home drunk—very drunk. He was completely intoxicated and passed out on the couch. She watched from her bedroom as he slept to make certain he wouldn’t wake. That was the night Marianna found a very good use for her pillow, and she was proud of the strength she had developed as she watched him struggle under her hands.
The next day, she told Marchelle she didn’t like the name Marianna anymore, and that it died along with Papi. She wanted to be called Marisol.
When the opportunity presented itself for her to become a model in New York City, she took it. Soon after, she quietly brought Marchelle into the States to assist her with her needs. She told her that no one was to know that they weren’t one and the same, telling her that if anyone found out, they’d send her back and she’d never see Marisol again.
Marchelle did exactly as her sister told her. The hardest part was going out in public as Marisol. It had taken her a few times, but Marisol trained her to become an expert, expecting nothing less than perfection. Marchelle could walk directly into any crowd, head on, never faltering or disappointing Marisol in this regard.
Unfortunately, it was always necessary for them to travel separately to continue the charade. That was inconvenient for Marisol as she had trained her sister so well to serve her every need.
Marchelle had arrived in Hawaii the day prior to Marisol’s arrival. This assured that all arrangements had been made and executed, tasks that had been ordered had been completed, and Marisol’s comforts had been anticipated and catered to before her arrival.
The excitement of this trip for her was that she was looking forward to surprising Declan. She anticipated his reaction! In order to carry out her plan successfully, the element of shock could only enhance her degree of manipulation over him. He had become somewhat dependent on her as his recovery continued. He now believed that she had his best interest at heart, and she provided whatever words or deeds were necessary to reinforce that line of thinking on his part.
Currently, she was filling his head with many stories of the two of them attending parties and social events in New York with the more elite crowd. Never faltering in her efforts, she constantly twisted those tales to make each of her efforts appear to always be on his behalf or to be for his advantage. She always painted herself as someone who merely cared deeply for him and wanted to see him succeed.
Ha! He had become such a fool! Little does he know, all I truly care about is taking everything out from under him and leaving his incompetent ass out in the cold!
After all, hadn’t he done the same to her when he left her at the party in New York to go to the beach and meet up with Aria? She would never forgive him for that, but she would let him try to make it up to her.
Aria! Ugg! Just the thought of her ugly ass makes me cringe! I will never understand what attracted him to her. She looks like a dog!
She was confident that Aria was absolutely inferior to her in every way. There was never a thought in her mind that they could compete in any area. It was incomprehensible to her. Declan choosing Aria over her caused Marisol to seethe within and become drenched in rage—more than she had ever felt for her father.
Marchelle, innocently, once asked Marisol if the reason she was upset was because she was jealous of Aria. Once the beating was over, Marchelle knew never to ask again.
Hawaii would be the perfect ground to put her plan in motion. She was aware that the client would be having a party tonight at the end of the shoot; a “wrap party,” so to speak. Everyone would be there. She’d make a grand entrance, as she always did, assuring the client that she bore no ill will for his taking her off of this particular job and encouraging him to seek her services in the future. Her entrance would then serve its main purpose—to delight and surprise Declan, showing him her support. She could play the loving girlfriend role to further solidify the stories that she’d fabricated, telling him all about their wonderful relationship.
Yes, she would be GLORIOUS! Tonight would be a great night. One that Declan wouldn’t soon forget…
The shopping excursion proved to be a success. Paige was exhausted, but she was extremely happy with her purchases. Aria, too, felt she’d had a successful day. She bought several things with Jeannie in mind, knowing that her mother would love the light and airy fabrics to wear at home, in the summer months.
Having had the opportunity to explore on their own, the girls marveled as they discovered a few waterfalls amongst the lush flora and tropical greens. They simply loved the idea that you could just pull your car over on the road and sink your toes in the sand, just about anywhere on the island.
Aimee had arranged for lunch to be served to them when they arrived back at the suite. They weren’t used to such catering, but commented that it was something to which they could easily become accustomed, and that it was so nice to be pampered.
After lunch, the girls changed into their swimsuits and ventured out to the beach. The sun felt sinful as its warmth crept into muscles that were weary from all of their walking.
They could see decorations, tables, and chairs being set up for a party. It looked Hawaiian in theme, but both ladies took notice of the plush flowers and ornate bandstand.
“Looks like somebody’s going to have a nice party,” Paige commented.
“Hmm,” Aria contemplated. “Do you think that it could be for the party we’re going to tonight? I mean, Aimee did say it was going to be a Luau.”
“You’re right. It could be,” Paige answered. “That would be really fun! Especially with all those island guys…”
Aria finished applying lotion and lay back on the lounge chair.
“I’m up for a little fun,” she said. “How about you?”
Paige, still sitting up, nudged her arm. “I think the island guys are already noticing the mainland girls…”
Aria peeked out from under her hat and saw two, hot and buff, guys at the water’s edge that appeared to be looking in their direction.
“Looks like it might be a fun night!” she said with a smile, pulling her hat down over her eyes.
“Hey girls! Anybody here?” Aimee bounced through the doors of the suite.
She didn’t look as though she had been working all day. She seemed the definition of perfection, wearing designer swimwear, with absolutely perfect make-up and hair.
Paige was the first to come out of her bedroom.
“Hi, honey. How was your day?” she said as she approached Aimee.
Aimee made a sweeping motion with her hand, drawing attention to Paige’s outfit.
“Nice!” she said. “You’re looking hot! Is that something new from your shopping trip?”
Paige twirled in her dress. Her eyes were sparkling and her dimples were in full view along with her smile.
“I love it!” she said as she twirled. “It’s so pretty. I feel like I’m a tropical princess.”
Aimee nodded in agreement. “It looks good on you! You won’t be able to keep the local boys away tonight!” Aimee teased. “Where’s Aria?”
Paige pointed toward the bedroom. “Still primping.”
“Aria! Come out!” Aimee yelled, making Paige laugh.
Aria came out in her robe, puzzling both girls.
“Aren’t you going to get ready?” Aimee asked. “The party’s in an hour,” she said, looking at the clock.
Aria seemed edgy and pulled at the sleeves on the oversized robe.
“I’m not sure,” she said, hesitantly. “I don’t know if I’m really up for this.”
It was the first that they had seen Aria down since she’d arrived on vacation.
Aimee refused to take a negative response.
&nb
sp; “Oh, yes you are!” she stated. “You didn’t come to one of the most beautiful places in the world so that you could miss out on a traditional luau. You’re going to have fun tonight—even if I have to make you!”
She gave her a look that Aria knew indicated that she meant business, and Paige stood with arms crossed to show her solidarity with Aimee.
Resigned to what she knew would be a losing battle, Aria gave them both an evil eye.
“You know, you’re pushy—both of you,” she accused.
Stomping her feet, she returned to the bedroom, resigning herself to have a night—fun or otherwise—with Aimee and Paige.
Returning forty-five minutes later, her appearance caused Aimee to be flabbergasted.
“Well, Aria, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that you were the model—not me,” she said, walking all around her to inspect hair, make-up, and outfit.
Aria appeared in an ankle length, strapless sundress.
She looked wonderful—dazzling would best describe her look. With sun kissed skin and sparkling blue eyes, she’d attract her fair share of men. Initially reserved, once she had put on her new dress, her confidence returned. Her reservation about attending the luau had been short-lived, due in part to having such pushy, but good, friends who’d made her face reality. Meeting so many new strangers tonight would be a bit intimidating, but in truth, one man was still the only one who occupied her thoughts. No one else she’d meet could equal the way he made her heart race, so no one else could truly make her feel nervous.
Perhaps Aimee and Paige were right; tonight she should let loose and simply have some fun.
“It is a pretty dress, isn’t it?” she asked, looking down.
Paige, ever the thoughtful one of the group, was the first to comment.
“You make the dress pretty, Aria. You’re beautiful. You just don’t see it sometimes,” she said, comforting any insecurities she might have. “Now, come on,” she continued, grabbing her hand. “We have drinks, food, and dancing waiting for us!”
