“Tessa! We still have the Karaoke you sent us! Do you still sing?”
She sang?
“Tessa, remember the time you broke your front tooth doing a wheelie on your skateboard?”
“Jem, it wasn’t a wheelie.”
He learned more about her at this one lunch than he had over the entire time he’d known her.
“What about your Miss Cheerful award in high school?”
“Okay, enough, guys!” Tessa laughed. “You’re going to make Simon regret this!”
“On the contrary,” Simon said, reaching out to rub her back. “I’m totally absorbed.”
The sound of a crying baby silenced the group. Tessa looked toward the stairs. “The baby’s here?”
Nana nodded. “She was taking a nap.”
Tessa stood up quickly and made her way up the stairs. “Be right back, Simon!”
The family quickly dispersed, some following Tessa, others retreating to the kitchen. Nana stood up to retrieve a large glass bowl filled with oddly shaped condiments, crushed ice and topped with purple ice cream. “Halo-halo,” she said. “You will like it. And this time you can use a spoon.”
Simon obliged and began to dig into the glass bowl. Some of the mushy delicacies were sweet, all decadent. Crushed ice and milk were mixed with coco and crunchy bits of caramel, beans, pineapple and sweet plantains.
“She’s a very special girl,” Nana began. “Not so good with relationships. Afraid of loss.”
“I’ve never met anyone like her,” Simon replied.
“She looks happy for the first time in her adult life,” Nana said. “It must be you?”
“Tessa is extraordinary. Her life is coming together, and she deserves it,” he said.
“She looks at you different. You make her happy.”
Simon was speechless. He wanted to say so many things, ask a multitude of questions. But he wanted to ask them of Tessa. He wanted to go back to their little hut, to their little world. He wanted her to weave him some stories, and it was her voice he wanted to hear.
“Don’t stay if you’re just going to leave,” Nana said. It was an order, not a request.
He remained silent, finishing off the last of the purple ice cream.
Tessa descended from the stairs with a baby girl no more than three months old in her arms. Tiny with a head full of hair, dressed in nothing but a onesie. Tessa took a seat back down on the bench with her back to Simon, leaning the baby’s head on her shoulder.
“I just fed her,” she said, addressing Nana. “She looks just like Leny!”
The baby’s wide eyes stared right at Simon, a little trickle of milk slowly slipping down her chin. Simon lifted the edge of the blanket and wiped the baby’s mouth. Tessa cooed and swayed until Leny came over to take the baby back upstairs.
Tessa stood, circled the table and placed her arms around the old lady. “I think we have to get going,” she said.
Nana tilted her body toward Tessa, who lovingly caressed the top of her head. “Take care of yourself. I’ll come visit again soon, okay? Don’t cry. I’m okay.”
“Are you, Tessa?” Nana asked. “I just want you to be happy. You and your brother. I love you both so much.”
Tessa turned to Simon and smiled.
“Are you using the computer I sent you? I’ll email you again and you can ask Leny to teach you how to Skype, okay?”
“Okay,” Nana said, sniffling.
“And here,” Tessa said, reaching into her purse. “Use it to get Papa’s medicines. And I think you need an air conditioner upstairs for baby Shirley.”
Nana shook her head. “No, Tessa, this is too much, please, I don’t want anything from you.”
“This is hardly anything,” she said, pushing the large wad of bills into Nana’s hand. “And this.” Another large envelope. “This is for the school I told you about. Jem said he already had the architect submit some plans. Two classrooms. Math and reading, okay, Nana?”
“Okay, Tessa. God bless you, my baby. I will miss you.”
Simon watched as the women spent a moment of silence. He wished he knew what Tessa was thinking. She became composed, almost too impassive. He felt like she had rehearsed this scene before she’d gotten there. It wasn’t the same person he saw just a few minutes ago. This was more the woman he met in New York months ago, guarded.
“I’ll miss you too, Nana. I’ll be back soon.”
Tessa offered Simon her hand, and together they bid goodbye before hailing another tricycle to take them back to the resort.
The rented villa was too quiet. Simon began to miss her again, when he returned from the gym to find it empty. He walked out to the balcony and saw her on the beach. Wearing a white cover up and a black bathing suit underneath, her eyes were closed, toes pointing towards the water. Lying on her back with her arms stretched to the side, she looked like she was doing snow angels, only on sand. Quickly, he made his way to where she was, running down the spiral staircase from the balcony to the beach.
There was no one in sight for what seemed like miles.
“Hey,” he greeted. “Have you been here all this time?”
She looked at him and smiled. “Why do you have your shoes on?”
“Because I always do.”
“Lay on the sand with me,” she instructed, arm outstretched, fingers reaching out to him. “The stars are out in full force tonight.” She tapped his knee and laughed as he crouched. “Lose the shoes, dude. And the clothes.”
She sat up and peeled her cover up off and lay back down in her bikini.
“Tessa,” he uttered, amused. He’d never lain on a beach before, never felt the sand between his toes, never allowed himself to be so out of control. Except with her.
“Live a little, Simon. Look, there’s no one here but us. And the moon and the stars.”
He looked around again and realized their only light was the one from the sky. He stripped down to his underwear and laid down next to her. She reached out her hand, and he took it. And then he followed her lead and stared at the sky.
Little lights twinkled all over, shimmering like droplets of gold spreading like fireworks exploding in unison. The sand felt good on his back, the rolling of the waves mesmerized him. The rush of the tide against his skin made him feel invincible. Like it would wash his sickness away, so he could spend an eternity holding her hand.
There they lay for seconds, minutes, almost an hour. In silence. He was dying to break it. To tell her that if that night were his last, he didn’t leave this world without touching the sand.
“Is that the Big Dipper?” she asked, still gazing into the sky.
“No, just a group of stars.”
“The moon looks huge tonight.”
“Well, that’s not the moon. That’s Jupiter.” He turned his head and smiled at her. She flashed a grin before squeezing his hand. They stayed as they were, supine on their backs, chins pointed toward the heavens.
They lost themselves in the music all around them. He could see the sounds clearly, despite being ensconced in the darkness. He wondered if she was pondering the events of the day. He had so much to ask her, but that was not the right time.
“Simon?” she said, lifting her head up to untie the straps of her top.
“Yeah.” Her voice catapulted him to the moon. He turned on his side to face her.
“Take me to the stars with you.”
Tessa moved around quietly, careful not to wake Simon, who slept soundly with his feet sticking out of the covers. She’d learned he didn’t like to be bundled up at night, the comforter constantly bunched up and piled on her side of the bed. She’d also learned that he always gravitated to the middle no matter the size of the bed. And that he kept jetlag pills on the corner of the bathroom counter, but she never saw him take them. She liked to think it was because he never needed help falling asleep.
She wrapped his present in the bathroom, intent on surprising
him first thing that morning. Like clockwork, his alarm would go off at 7 a.m. and he’d get dressed and go for his daily run. She had ten minutes before then.
They had one whole day left together. His disposition was concerning. He hadn’t spoken much the afternoon they returned from visiting her family the day before. He seemed pensive, deep in thought. Tessa was sure he was just worrying about work. She knew he’d never taken that many days off before. Even the extra night in Vegas had him taking the first flight out the next day.
Many times, on the beach that night, she’d caught his stare. And when she smiled back at him, he returned it with a grin so wide, so warm and bright.
“What?” she’d asked when he’d reached to touch her face.
“Nothing. You’re ace.”
“I’m what?”
“Awesome.”
Touchy. That was the best description she could find for the way he’d acted that night. He couldn’t get enough of her, he wanted her close to him, even while he worked on his computer, made phone calls, confirmed his returning flight.
They’d made love three times, his movements gentle but urgent. She’d seen him like this before, but that night, she felt like he’d wanted to tell her something. And she was sure it would be something sad. A goodbye, perhaps. Maybe he’d decided to marry Maxine in the end. He was pushing thirty. She knew that eventually men like him would choose to settle down. Was it time to ask where this was going?
Tessa wasn’t sure she wanted to yet. She’d committed to too much that year. It was only September and she still had four more tours to complete before Christmas. Lionel and Carissa were beginning to take shape and their voices filled her head more often than not. She really needed the time to finish their story.
Beep, beep, beep.
Tessa placed the finishing touches on his final gift. She removed her robe and wrapped an enormous velvet ribbon around herself. Then she grabbed his present off the floor, silently stepped into the room, and settled herself on his side of the bed. She turned the alarm off and kissed the back of his head.
“Morning,” she said. “Happy birthday.”
He turned to face her. “Hi.”
She leaned down to kiss his lips. They were warm and soft.
“My birthday was last week,” he mumbled. “And you greeted me over the phone, remember?” He smiled at her while vigorously rubbing his eyes. “Complete with virtual hugs and kisses.” He deliberately changed his tone, low and gruff. “And pictures.”
“Yes, and you better not have stored those on the cloud!” she laughed. “But here you are in the flesh! And I got you something.”
He sat up and turned on the lamp next to him. “Wow.” He saw what she wore, the red ribbon placed exactly over her chest. He tugged at the ends until she became exposed. “Get under the covers with me,” he instructed, sliding over so she could scoot next to him.
“What about your run?” she asked.
“My what?”
“I have a real present.”
“Why? What’s wrong with this one?” he asked, chin on her shoulder, his front pressing against her bare back.
She laughed, turning to face him, arms in front, hands together, her knees folded between his.
“Tess?” He looked at her, searching for something.
She stared back, silently urging him to see through her. She had nothing to hide.
“What’s wrong, Simon? You seem so troubled.” She traced along his cheek. “I’ve put you over the edge, haven’t I? All this traveling is just too much for you.”
“What?” He growled. “No!”
“What, then?”
“Yesterday, I learned more about you than ever before.”
“Is that good or bad?” she asked.
“It’s great!” he answered. “But I want to know more. Yesterday was the first time you introduced me to the people who love you, and it showed me so much about who you are. I want more. I wonder… would you tell me about your mom and dad? What really happened?”
“It’s supposed to be a happy time.” She snaked her hand between his legs. “I want to give you your birthday nookie.”
“Tessa, please.” His face was so serious, eyebrows in a straight line, eyes slightly crossed.
“Ugh, okay. Where should I start? As you know, my dad was a urologist, a surgeon. My mom was a pediatrician. We lived a normal life. My mom gave up her career early on when I was born and stayed home to take care of me and my brother. I had everything I could ever ask for—a nanny, ballet, hula, piano lessons. My parents held hands when they walked through the grocery store. They kissed and cuddled openly in front of us. We had a home filled with love, Jake and I.”
“When did they pass away?” He took both hands in his.
“Fourteen years ago. And do you know, I still haven’t remembered everything? The principal pulled me out of class and then asked me to walk with her to get Jacob. And then as she led us to the office, I saw my aunts and uncles waiting by the door. That’s when they told us my dad had crashed his plane. He’d just bought a little six-seater; a Beechcraft, I think. He named it Aurora after my mother, and he was ecstatic about completing his flying lessons. He took her to Wisconsin for the weekend.”
Simon’s face filled with dread. He wasn’t sure whether this was just too much for Tessa. But she pressed on.
“I remember asking them to get my nana, and then chaos ensued because my relatives started fighting about who would be taking us home.”
“Where did you live after that?” he asked, his voice in an almost whisper. He continued to caress her fingers.
“This is the first time anyone has asked me about this.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“No one has cared enough,” she whispered sadly, “to ask me about my life.”
“I,” he leaned over to kiss her forehead, “find that hard to believe. Everywhere I look, you have people telling you how much they love you. You’re surrounded by followers, fans, people who idolize you. You have a solid family here and they all adore you.”
“Oh, Simon!” she laughed. “Yes, I have a family here but they’re so far away from me and Jake. As for the fans, they’re not real friends. If I was in a bind today, tomorrow, none of them would come to my aid. It’s not their fault, but they’ve got their hands full with their own lives. I’m an abstraction to them, that’s all I am. People are fickle, life is fickle.”
He nodded his head and waited for her to continue.
“Let’s see. I was twelve and Jake was two years older. I was just getting out of middle school and he was in eighth grade. So, we finished the school year with my aunt who lived in Chicago, and then moved in with relatives—four places in four years. By the time I went to college, Jake moved in with an older cousin and I stayed at a dorm. And the rest,” she concluded, her voice strong and even, “is history.”
“Did they take good care of you? Your aunts and uncles?”
“They had a fund from my dad’s estate and a salary to take care of us. In other words, they got paid to love us.” She smiled weakly. “Nana had to leave to take care of her sick husband. As soon as Jake finished school, he bought an apartment downtown and moved me in with him. He graduated with honors from Northwestern and went straight into medicine.”
And that was when things between them had shifted.
Tessa closed her eyes, vowing to remember this moment. Because Simon sat up, placed two pillows against the headboard and leaned against it, pulling Tessa close to him so that her head rested on his shoulder. He locked her in an embrace so tight she felt her skin mold into his and whispered. “You’ll never be alone again.”
Tessa raised her head up and leaned the palm of her hand on his chest. “No promises. Just one day at a time.”
They talked about everything. She filled him with stories about her childhood, about her mom and dad. Simon loved listening to her voice, loved watching her express hersel
f. With her hands waving, her fingers spreading out and then closing in, her voice inflecting at certain points she animatedly recounted parts of her life when she’d been happy. She was so open, so honest. Her laughter was infectious.
Simon had so many questions for her before they said their goodbyes again.
“When we left, why didn’t you tell Nana that you loved her?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” She looked stumped. She lilted slightly to the side.
“It’s just that you’re so genuine with your actions, but you’re short on words.”
“Are you kidding me, Simon? Why do I have to verbalize it? She knows I love her.”
“But it helps to hear it,” he argued.
By then she was sitting up, still facing him, her legs crossed under her and her back straight and rigid. Before he could say another word, she straightened her legs, sprang off the bed and stomped out the open door onto the veranda. The concierge had dropped off a continental breakfast—a pot of coffee and a tray of assorted breads waited on the glass table next to the rattan couches. By the time he followed her outside, she was pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Did you cry when you heard about your parents?” he kept on.
“What’s with the third degree, here? You meet my family and now you have the right to cross examine me?”
He was indignant. He leaned his back against the balcony. “Pretty much.”
“I don’t remember,” she answered.
“Come on, I think you’d remember if you did.”
“Then I didn’t! Jesus, what is this?” The porcelain cup clattered as she laid it on the plate and stood.
For the past two days, he hadn’t been able to bear having her out of sight. He was sure she’d noticed. He’d had to have her close, no matter what it was they were doing. And he realized he wanted—needed—to hear her say how she felt about him.
But he also realized he was out of line. Slowly, he walked toward her and reached out to hold her.
Eight Goodbyes Page 11
