Letting Loose

by Joanne Skerrett

  Then she’d told me about her friend who worked at some fancy schmancy boutique in New York who could get me a good deal on a designer gown. This conversation took place halfway up Mount Diablotins, at 3,000 feet, on Drew’s crackly cell phone. He finally intervened and told her that we had to get going before darkness hit us at the top of the mountain.

  “She’s gonna drive me crazy,” I told Drew. And this time he did not laugh it off. “Just tell her you’re busy when she calls,” he’d said. Was she getting on his nerves, too? Could it be possible that I was having a breakthrough here? Was the wedding planning exposing Vanessa for the nag that she was?

  But back to the present. “So, you know Vanessa’s going to make this as lavish and pretentious as possible, right?” Shauna laughed as we ate mussels marinated in white wine, another one of Mona’s culinary masterpieces. This woman could cook her behind off! She’d laughingly told me that Vanessa had called her a week ago, informing her that she might be catering my wedding reception and that she should keep her calendar clear for the month of December. That had been news to me, too.

  Sophie was sitting right there so I didn’t want to badmouth Vanessa, but there was so much I wanted to say. Vanessa had not even asked about my mother yet. They’d never even spoken. Vanessa had taken the reins, assuming that everything was going to happen on her own turf and on her own terms.

  “So, what do your folks think about all this?” Nicole asked. We’d been talking a bit lately and I liked her a lot. She was a pediatric nurse and she reminded me a lot of Whitney, very career-focused but with a quirky, offbeat personality that made her more interesting than the average corporate worker bee.

  “Well,” I paused. How to say this nicely? “My mother is still warming to the idea. She thinks it’s a bit soon.”

  “Our mothers always think they know what’s best for us.”

  Actually, no, I wanted to say. My mother had never pretended to know what was good for me. She just would never agree to anything that didn’t leave me in close proximity to her and her needs.

  “Does she know about Drew’s nomination to education secretary?” Shauna asked.

  “She knows. But it doesn’t really mean a whole lot to her. She’s in her own little world.”

  “Most Americans tend to be that way,” Shauna said, adding quickly. “Not you, of course.”

  I laughed it off. She’d get along famously with James and Kelly.

  “You’re going to become an old married woman like us,” Sophie said. “Soon, you’ll be worrying about diapers and breast-feeding.”

  Diapers and breast-feeding! I hadn’t really thought about that! I mean, I wanted kids, but I’d never, ever thought about diapers and breast-feeding. I just wanted to keep thinking about Drew and sex. And all the clothes I was going to buy at Arden B. once I got back to the States. Man, I used to hate that store! Every time I’d walk by there would be some cute top that I couldn’t wear because my boobs were too big or some hip-hugger pants that were oh so cute but oh so tiny. But I was a European 10 now, which was probably a U.S. 8. Ha! I couldn’t wait to go back and show them all. I’d be sure to pay a visit to that Lord & Taylor again and hope I run into that rude salesgirl. She’d think twice before telling my skinny butt to go to the women’s department!

  “What are you thinking about?” Sophie asked, laughing. “You just wandered off in the middle of the conversation.”

  “She must be making wedding plans in her head,” Nicole said.

  I laughed with them. “I’m just thinking about how I’m going to get my folks and my friends down here for the wedding.”

  “Oh, you won’t have a problem convincing them,” Mona said. “Who wouldn’t want to leave Boston in December? Especially for a trip to the islands.”

  “Right,” I said.

  Sophie looked at me. “Don’t let Mom bully you, Amelia. If you want to have your wedding in Boston, go ahead and do that.”

  “Oh, no!” I said. “I want it here.”

  She patted my arm. “Just don’t let her bully you. She tried to do the same thing to my sister and me. We’re always having to put her in her place.”

  “Yeah, Vanessa’s a pit bull until you stand up to her,” Shauna said.

  Sophie laughed. “See, I let them talk about my mother like that.”

  “You know she ain’t lying,” Mona laughed.

  Good. Great. I didn’t feel so alone then.

  Drew had not made it home yet when I turned my key in the lock but I could hear noises inside. “Celeste?”

  “Yes, Amelia,” she said, surfacing in the living room.

  “Just wanted to make sure it was you.”

  “Who else would it be?” She put a hand on a hip.

  “Uh…no one. It was just a figure of speech.”

  “Hmmpf!” She waddled back to the kitchen.

  I’d have to stay out of her way; hopefully, she’d be finished soon. I had to make room for my new clothes so I began to move some of Drew’s things around. How many white T-shirts did one person need, I wondered as I cleared out one drawer. I stopped as I hit its oak bottom. Two passports spilled halfway out of a white envelope. U.S. passports. I opened one, curious to see his photo. On the first page Drew’s serious face stared back at me from the square, laminated box. I looked at the name next to it: Steve Harrison, it said. Born November 30, 1969. How? Drew was born in 1976! I picked up the other passport and opened it; that one looked normal. His name, his picture, his birth date, was correct, at least according to what he told me. What was going on? Why did he have two passports? I felt eyes piercing into me and looked up. Celeste stood at the door, a bag in her hand. I almost jumped out of my skin.

  “I’m finished for the day,” she said, an accusing look in her eyes.

  “Ye…Yes,” I stammered. “I was just putting my new clothes away.”

  She turned on her heel and left, not even bothering to say good-bye.

  I put the passports back at the bottom of the drawer and began replacing the T-shirts. My heart was galloping out of my chest. I didn’t want him to know that I’d been in here, in his personal things. But why? Why did he have two passports? What was going on here?

  I could hear his key turning in the lock. He was home early. I quickly put the last of the T-shirts in the drawer and slammed it shut.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” I said, almost running to meet him at the front door.

  We embraced quickly. I could ask him about it, but then I’d have to admit that I’d been snooping. But I hadn’t been! I was only looking to put away my new clothes. He would understand. But what if I was not supposed to know? Who in the world was Steve Harrison?

  “Know why I’m home early?”

  “Why?” I hoped my voice sounded normal.

  “Because I’m taking you to the flower show.”

  “Oh.” It took a minute before it sunk in. I’d begged him to take me to a flower show I’d seen advertised on TV, and he’d flat out refused at first. “Those things are kind of boring; I’d be the only guy there.” He wanted to go diving instead, again. And I’d given up, not wanting another fight. But something must have changed his mind. I thought it was sweet that he was trying to smooth things over after our big fight.

  “You do still want to go, right?”

  “Of course, I want to go.” I took a deep breath.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Celeste was just here.”

  “I saw her driving down the hill. Did you two argue?”

  “No! I’m fine. I have new clothes.” My mind was reeling and I couldn’t focus. “I’ll go get ready.”

  The show wasn’t far away, and he was in a talkative mood. He’d found another site to build on, this time a clinic, in some tiny village near the Carib Reserve. I had yet to visit it, but I’d heard it was much like a Native American Reservation. It was so ridiculous to me that even on Dominica indigenous people still got the shaft.

  “That’s so great, Drew,” I said. “Are
there enough doctors who’ll want to go all the way out there?”

  “I’m hoping there will be. We’ll have to bribe them with money….”

  He was so good-hearted. There had to be some simple explanation for this Steve Harrison passport. It was probably some gag or joke thing. Drew was too noble, too good to be up to anything nefarious. I tried to relax and take my mind off it.

  Vanessa’s car was among a few parked in a dirt lot near a gaggle of stands off a main road that showcased the most beautiful flowers and fruit I’d ever seen.

  The Giraudel-Eggleston Flower Show was a festival put on by two villages known for having relentless rainfalls, and therefore wild bursts of colorful flowers all year long. Bougainvillea and poinsettia lined the road leading into the villages, and the air smelled sweet and clean. It was not quite as hot up here, although the sun was huge and bright in the sky. The air felt clean and dewy.

  It would have been so perfect had it not been for her, dressed in her trademark all white, this time a pantsuit, and huge silver jewelry. She was haggling loudly with a flower vendor. Drew called out to her, and I cringed. Why couldn’t we have this beauty to enjoy by ourselves? Did she know about Steve Harrison? Was there anything to know? I had to get my mind off this. She waved us over, and I went reluctantly.

  “I’m so glad you could make it.” Her Chanel No. 5 was at its most blossomy, competing with the aromas of the other flowers.

  “You’re losing too much weight,” she said, suddenly pushing me at arm’s length. “What are you doing?”

  “Hiking in the hills behind the house,” I said.

  She looked at Drew disapprovingly. “You make her go out there in the hot sun?”

  “I don’t make her go. She goes on her own while I’m at work!”

  “Don’t let him turn you into some adventuring type like himself,” she said. “You don’t want to become like those sweating tourists…It’s so unladylike.”

  Okaaaay. “Vanessa, everyone sweats here; it’s so hot.”

  She looked at me surprised. “I don’t. I never perspire.”

  And it occurred to me that she didn’t. I’d never seen even a sheen of liquid on her forehead on the hottest days. Her face was always a matte mask of makeup and serenity. Scary, I thought. Is she even human?

  “These flowers are beautiful.” I was dying to change the subject. She relaxed again and said something to the vendor in the French patois spoken by older Dominicans and those who lived in the villages. The woman nodded and handed her a huge bouquet of flowers. Vanessa passed the woman twenty dollars.

  “These are torch lilies, my favorite,” she said, caressing the pink, hardy-looking petals. I remembered seeing several in her home. “And these are anthurium.”

  An older couple approached and immediately began to congratulate Drew on his nomination. Vanessa beamed widely and insinuated herself into the conversation. Then she introduced me as “Amelia, Drew’s bride-to-be.” I smiled and did the four-kiss thing with the couple. But I was pissed. It was as if Drew had forgotten me again. He had gotten so caught up in those people’s adulation that Vanessa had to step in and remind him that I was standing there! And that was just the beginning. It happened again and again as we ran into more and more people who wanted to shake his hand.

  I should have been enjoying this outing, but it was so difficult. Steve Harrison was on my mind and we were stopping every five minutes to greet more people. Between those meetings, Vanessa acted as a chatty guide, pointing out heliconias, bird of paradise, orchids, yellow allamandas, pink chenille, and lavender morning glory. I took pictures, hoping I’d get to observe them more closely when I was in a better mood.

  When she grew tired of walking we sat down to eat in a makeshift outdoor restaurant. Drew ordered beer and fish and chips. I drank sorrel juice, which tasted and looked like fruit punch—but with more fruit than punch. I decided to go out on a limb and try the fried bread-fruit with smoked herring. It tasted delicious, but Vanessa wrinkled her nose with distaste, and I began to feel self-conscious.

  “That smell is going to stick to your clothes all day,” she said.

  “Mom, leave her alone!”

  I was shocked, both by Vanessa’s statement and Drew’s retort. He shook his head and walked away with his beer in hand.

  “It’s okay. I wasn’t offended,” I lied.

  “Why would you be?” Her eyebrows shot up. “I don’t know what his problem is, but herring stinks. I wasn’t telling a lie.”

  I sighed. “I just wanted to taste it.”

  “You could have asked about it first.”

  “Vanessa, it really isn’t any of your business what I eat.”

  She put down her glass of water and looked hard at me. I glared right back. I would not lower my eyes, and I was ready to go at it if she said just another word. This staredown lasted for a minute or so, and she blinked.

  “I’m going to buy some more flowers,” she sniffed and walked away. I happily ate the rest of my stinky herring. But she was right. I did need to wash up a few times and brush my teeth for a good five minutes before the stench went away. Still, I’d like to think that the balance had finally begun to tip between Vanessa and me. She didn’t linger much after that, so Drew and I hung back for a couple of hours enjoying the sights of the small village as more and more people drove up to see the show, to buy and sell flowers, fruits, and vegetables. With Vanessa gone, everything looked prettier, smelled so much purer.

  I clicked through my photos in the camera as we drove back. “Thanks for sticking up for me, husband.”

  “I really wasn’t. It’s like she’s become another person since this wedding thing came about. I think I need to find her a boyfriend.”

  “That’s a great idea! Do you know anyone?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “That would be the best thing that could happen to me. I mean to us. I mean to her.”

  “It’s okay. I know what you mean.”

  “I can’t wait till Whitney gets here.”

  “Yeah? Try not to end up on Girls Gone Wild.”

  “Who? Me? Sweet, innocent me?”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “When have I ever acted wild?”

  “It’s not you. It’s your friend and what you’ve told me about her I’m worried about.”

  “I was just trying to be entertaining. Whitney’s not half as bad as I make her out to be.”

  “I hope not.”

  “I’ll defend my virginal reputation. I promise.”

  “Virginal reputation? That went out the door a long time ago.”

  “Thanks to you,” I said.

  “You forced me….”

  “Of course, I did.”

  And as we joked around I put Steve Harrison and all those questions out of my mind. Whitney would be here soon and we’d find Vanessa a boyfriend. Everything would work out just fine.

  Two SUVs were parked in front of the house when we arrived. “Who’s that?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Looks like my lawyers.”

  “What are they doing here so late?” It was almost dark.

  “Something must have come up.”

  Two men were waiting for us on the porch. One I recognized. He was the ex-New Yorker Drew had introduced me to my very first week on Dominica. The other was a white guy in his thirties. They both wore shorts and golf shirts.

  “What up, dude,” the white guy said, and I immediately recognized his voice. He’d called my cell phone while Drew was visiting me in Boston.

  “What’s up?” Drew asked as he opened the door. He introduced me to the white guy, Jason.

  “You’re from Boston?” he said. “I spent some time there in the nineties.” Jason was from Atlanta; he and Drew did business together while Drew lived in the States. The other guy, Phillip, was serious and unfriendly and only said a curt hello. Was something wrong?

  “You remember Phillip, right?” I held out my hand and Phillip shook it noncommittally. Ther
e was something a bit too familiar about him.

  I decided to make myself busy in the kitchen; they obviously wanted me out of the room. I asked if they wanted drinks but they all declined. Fine. I’d go sit on the back porch and hassle Sonny.

  Ten minutes later, I could hear engines pulling away. Drew was sitting on the couch in the living room, a troubled look on his face. “What’s wrong, babe?”

  He looked at me intently for a long few seconds, then said, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Are you sure? Is your golfing trip still on?”

  “Yup. Let’s go to bed. I need to be up early for my flight tomorrow.”

  “Drew, there’s something really weird about that Phillip guy.”

  “Weird?”

  “Not weird. Familiar.”

  “You mean the fact that he looks just like Celeste?”

  “Oh, yeah! That’s what it is!” It finally made sense. They had the same eyes, taciturn expression, and grimacing lips.

  “That’s her son. I thought I told you that.”

  “You didn’t. Wow. Everything’s so six degrees down here.”

  “Right. You should be careful. You never know who’s who.”

  I thought he was joking.

  Chapter 28

  I sat in the airport waiting for Whitney’s plane to land. Drew had left earlier in the morning with three of his friends. He’d been acting strange since his two lawyer friends visited, but I chalked that up to his relief about getting away from me for three days. We’d been in each other’s faces constantly for the past two months and it had begun to get claustrophobic in the house. Hopefully, when he came back from playing golf at Sandy Lane in Barbados, we’d both be in a better mood.