by Ashley Beale
"Black hair, messy bun, blue and white bathing suit. She's laying down about thirty feet straight forward." I probably shouldn't know all those details without looking out the window.
"You need a grand gesture."
"A what?" I turn to look over at her. She's still staring out the window. I'm not sure what she's looking for, but women can pick up on smaller details than men, so maybe she'll give me something.
Turning to look back at me, she leans against the counter, folding her arms across her chest. Her belly pokes out even more clearly this way- and although she's almost six months along, she isn't all that big and round. I expected to see more of a gut by now.
"A grand gesture," she repeats. "You know, running into a wedding when the love of your life is about to get married, and yelling out that you object to the marriage due to the love you have for the bride. Or standing outside her bedroom window with a boom box above your head proclaiming your devotion and love to her. Or showing up to the airport mere seconds before she boards the plane to Europe for a job opportunity."
"Um..." I stare blankly at Emily. I think someone has been watching too many movies lately. "Well she's not getting married, going to Europe, and she lives on the sixth floor, so I don't see any of those happening."
I swear the lust glazing over in Emily's eyes die with the glare she sends my way. "Shut up. They're examples. You need to find something that'll win her back, and this time with a hook and bait. You need to reel her in and keep her."
"You going to help me?"
"Maybe." Emily shrugs. "Maybe if you feed me."
"You just finished off a fifteen dollar bowl of fruit."
She starts to head towards the hallway, rubbing her belly as she goes. "I'll play the, I'm pregnant with your nephew and flew all alone for five hours to see you, and unpack your boxes, so you better feed me card."
Yup, definitely a younger version of Mom. I hop off the stool, peeking out the window as I head towards the bedroom to get my wallet. Brenna still lays there, this time on her stomach. Her foot moves, probably to the music in her ears, and I wonder silently to myself if there is any way I can come up with a grand gesture that'll win her forever.
I may not love her, I’m not even sure if I’m falling, but I can tell she's the kind of girl I want in my life. If I don't win her over, someone else will, and it could end up being that abusive jackass that she allowed into her life. I can't have that.
*~*~*
Another two days pass by without any word from Brenna. Emily has come up with a few ideas, none of which I've been a fan of. Maybe this whole grand gesture thing is not for me. I'm sure one of us will come up with the perfect scenario eventually- at least that is what Em keeps telling me.
Currently she's passed out in my bed, snoring so loud I can hear her from my spot on the couch. Her first night here she started making a bed on the couch, and there was no way in hell my pregnant sister was sleeping on it. She didn't argue with me when I told her this. I have a spare room, but no bed in there. In the few days that Emily has been here, she's converted it into a small office. She agrees I need more furniture, but since I'm not sure if I'll be living here once my work is done paying for it, I've decided to hold off.
Tying my sneakers, I stand to stretch my back out. I didn't sleep for shit last night. This couch may be comfortable to sit on, but to sleep on is something else. My body is sorer than it has been in a long time. I don't feel twenty six right now, more like forty, and for that, I'm going to go for a run.
The air is crisp and the sun has barely made its presence in the sky. In fact, the moon is still off in the distance, disappearing by the second. I know it'll start getting hot sooner rather than later, so I immediately break out into a light sprint, adding speed to my run once I get around the block. I continue along the beach, where there is a trail of concrete parallel to the sea. There are many boats out, and I'm left feeling a bit melancholy over the fact that I never got to take Brenna out deep sea fishing.
When I run past the marina, I spot a smaller sized yellow boat, with the words de toute beaute on the side in faded black lettering. I don't speak French, but my assumption leads to the word beautiful. I slow my pace, heading towards the boat which is tied to one of the smaller docks. I head down to it, something about the boat calls to me.
Looking it over, an older man pops his head out of the cabin- what I think is the cabin at least. I've done plenty of fishing, but never in the ocean. Not to mention, we had a pontoon growing up, that is the largest boat I've ever been on. This boat is larger than that one, with a cabin area and what looks to be an area underneath to do down into.
"How's it going?" The old man asks. Throwing a braided rope over to the dock. "Lovely morning isn't it?" He has what appears to be a French accent, which would explain the foreign words on the side.
"Sure is. Nice boat you got here." I run my hand along the side. It may be weathered, but it's definitely built to last.
"Got that right." He climbs out from the cabin area, standing before me. He's short, with not much weight to him. A brown hat covering his head, a pair of nice slacks, and bright yellow fisherman boots on. He certainly looks the part of a fisherman. "She's my pride and joy. Built her fifty three years ago, and she's still going strong."
"You built this?" I ask, nodding towards the boat.
Taking off his hat, he rubs the sweat lining his forehead before placing it back on. Climbing from the boat, he stands next to me on the dock, staring his boat over. "Sure did. De Toute Beaute, named after my late wife. Well, her name was Anastasia, but she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."
"Sorry to hear that," I tell him- about his wife.
He chuckles mournfully. "She passed on almost a decade ago, nothing to be sorry about now. I've come to peace with it. She wanted to be cremated, her ashes spread at sea while I was on this here vessel. Took me three years to do, but I finally did. Now every time I'm out to sea, I feel her with me."
You can see the love in his eyes- for both his late wife and his boat.
"You got yourself a lady?" he asks.
I glance down at him just as he looks up to me, question in his eyes. "I'm working on that," I tell him, trying to add a hint of playfulness in my words. Running my hand through my hair, I realize that I'm covered in sweat and still have to shower before work. "Say, I got to head into work soon. I just wanted to take a look at your boat, it caught my attention as I was running past, thought I'd come in for a better view."
His smile starts to falter. "She's up for sale, you know. I'm eighty seven. Can't maintain her much longer."
I'm not sure if he is hinting for me to give him an offer, what I do know is that I've never owned a boat, nor do I know much about them. I wouldn't have the first idea the price it'd cost me to own, operate, and store the thing. "I hope you find someone worthy of it," I choose to tell him.
Looking it over, he nods his head softly, trying to smile a little more but failing at doing so. "Wish I had kids. Prostate cancer," he announces. This man sure isn't shy about discussing his life. "Took it when I was shy of thirty. Devastated Anastasia, it did, but here I am. Healthy as a horse. Well most days, but you know how it is for an old man like me." He chuckles, somehow finding humor in all his tragedies. A dead wife that couldn't bear his children, cancer he overcame, and the fact he's probably rounding the corner to his death bed. My heart actually sort of aches for him. Especially at how open and kind he is to a complete stranger, such as myself. Continuing, he says, "Well, I won't keep you. The names Corbin, by the way."
Reaching to shake his offered hand, I tell him, "Everett. Everett Burke."
"Nice to meet you Mr. Burke. Have yourself a pleasant day."
"You too, sir."
Making it back to the apartment, drenched in sweat but just in time to take a shower. Emily comes out of the bedroom, yawning as she stretches her arms over her head. "You're bed is so comfy," she states.
"Sure is. Need to use the bathroom be
fore I jump into the shower?"
"No, that's fine. Shower, I'll grab coffee." As she starts to walk past me in the hall, her nose scrunches up. "Ew, yes, shower. You reek. What did you do this morning?"
"Went for a run."
"Since when?" She questions.
"I guess since this morning." I shrug while heading into my room to grab the clothes I need for today.
I have to be quick in the shower, and with getting dressed. Once I'm finished with getting ready for the day, I head back into the kitchen. Emily hands me a coffee to go. "Thanks. You sure you'll be fine here by yourself all day?"
She lifts a brow. "Yeah, I'm positive. I'll probably go out onto the beach at some point."
I give her a pointed look, concerned with if that's healthy being pregnant. Before I'm even able to say anything, she places her hand snug on her hip, ready for me to attempt in arguing. "Yes, I can go on the beach," she states. This is how it was growing up with her, too. She knew everything I was going to say before I said it.
"Fine, there is sunscreen... uh..." I try to think where I unpacked it.
"In the bathroom. I put it under the sink. Now get to work, stop being such a big brother."
As I reach the door to head out, I tell her, "I am your big brother." She chuckles as the door latches closed.
Jeff is sitting in my office when I get in there. "Tomorrow is the big day," he announces- like I didn't already know.
I give out a grunt in response before taking a seat. Turning on the computer, I look at the packet of paperwork placed on my desk. "What's this?" I ask him, opening the folder at the same time.
"I had some extra time to spare yesterday while you took the day off, so I put together our info we gathered last weekend in Tampa."
"Have you given it to Chief yet?"
"Not yet, figured you could go over it, add any notes you had."
"I can get that done after I check my emails. I need to prep for tomorrow with Mona."
Grabbing for his cowboy hat, he stands to leave. "If you need me, I'll be down at the station doing more interviews. You know the number."
"Sure do, thanks man."
After lunch, I head into Chief’s office. He had asked me to come into brief over the details for tomorrow. He stands when I walk in- his mustache shaved. I'm not sure if it looks better or not, to be honest. I smirk when he runs his hand over his face out of habit for the facial hair he had there.
"Loose a bet?" I ask with humor.
"The wife said all or nothing, and to be honest, I can grow a damn good mustache but beard? Not for the life of me."
"Damn, that sucks." I can grow a beard well- I only know this because I've had to twice for investigations. Otherwise I only leave a hint of hair on my face. I can't stand the itch of anything more.
"It is what it is. Now, about tomorrow. Re-brief me."
"Mona will already be in the room at Coral View Hotel. I'll suggest drinks, act like I've already had a few, then I'll break down about the break up I had recently with Mandy, whom I have been dating- and planned on marrying- for nearly three years. I need a companion, rather than someone to score with. Before my hour is up, I'll ask questions about her past relationships, try to compare things with her, see what is consistent in her stories, see if she hints towards anything that is evidential."
"What time will you be meeting her?"
"Six sharp."
"I expect notes on my desk Thursday morning. Is your second date already scheduled?"
"Not yet, Kandy wanted me to wait until after, in case Mona wasn't the one for me."
He nods, accepting my answers. "Maybe you should deny that she was, that you would like someone that looked more like Mandy. She had brown hair, correct?" He flips open the folder to see the details about my fake girlfriend. "What color hair does Mona have?"
"Red," I snarl. I have nothing against redheads, I simply don't find them attractive. Which will make it easy for me to not be turned on by anything she attempts to do- not that I except to be anyways. She is an overused whore in my opinion, which is all I'll be able to envision with her- all the chicks that work for Kandy actually. "Mandy has dark brown hair. There is one other woman that works for Kandy with brown hair, and one with black, according to everyone we've interviewed so far. Kandy didn't go into as much details as that, but I can easily let her know that red isn't my choice of hair color after tomorrow."
"Then once you finish up your notes, you're good to go."
Standing, I tell Chief to have a good evening, then head back into my office.
Arriving home, I'm shocked to see how much different the condo looks than when I left this morning. I'm certain every box is unpacked. The home is clean, smells delicious, and is even pretty well organized. Along with being impressed and appreciative, I'm a bit pissed off that Emily over exerted herself the way she obviously did.
Walking through the place, I land in the bedroom to see she isn't passed out like I had assumed, in fact, she isn't even in here. Nor is she in the spare room, which has a small cot folded out, and her bags next to it. How in the hell did she have the time today to do everything she did? A power that women seem to possess.
When I realize she is nowhere in here, I look out the kitchen window. It's after four, but being mid-summer the sun is bright in the sky, sending its ray straight for the shore line. I spot her walking along the edge of the water in her bikini, spite the fact that her stomach is round. I'm glad she has confidence to not care what people think- plus, truth be told, she is probably the most beautiful pregnant person on the face of the earth.
I can picture my mother pregnant with one of us, looking just as elegant and blessed. She had told us once that I made her deathly ill for over half her pregnancy, throwing up day in and day out, to the point she lost more weight than she had gained. She would tell stories about attempts of washing dishes, where she'd project everything she ate the previous two days, or how she'd try to empty the trash while Dad was at work, only to start crying because it took too much effort to get past the smell, no matter if it actually stunk or not. After she hit the five month mark, it all went away, and she said she had never appreciated anything more than when I kept her up until midnight kicking away at her stomach, Dad curled up to her, singing songs to the womb.
I loved hearing those stories, and I've always wanted something like that with someone else. I want to feel the connection and love that two parents share over a child. I'm happy that Emily has that with Sebastian- there is no person more deserving of any of it than her.
Putting on a pair of board shorts, I head out the door to join my sister in the gorgeous Florida evening. She grins when I walk her way, and I immediately hug her, thanking her for all her hard work today. "Not a problem," she mentions.
"I don't see how you did any of it. You're not exhausted?"
"I took a nap," she says, shrugging her shoulders. Playing off the fact she busted her ass today. "I'm fine."
"When the hell did you find the time to nap? I didn't even think you'd have the time to get everything done that you did."
Ignoring everything, she points out to where a few others are swimming, a good distance from the shore. "I want to swim, but don't you think there are sharks? I keep picturing them being gobbled alive."
I look to where she is talking about, and now that she mentioned it, I feel the same way. I try to play it off, like the idea doesn't terrify me, but honestly it kind of does. I'm supposed to be the man, so I don't say that part out loud. "I'm sure they've lived around here long enough to know. I can't imagine they'd be that far out if it were too dangerous."
She nods, agreeing silently. "Maybe I could take a dip then. I've never swam in the ocean before."
"Just... don't go out that far. You know, in case."
"You're not coming with me? You've never been in the ocean either. It'll be a first for the both of us."
"That's okay," I tell her. "I'll walk in a ways, but I'm not swimming."
"Scared?" S
he calls me out.
Shaking my head back and forth, I tell her, "Nope. Don't feel like swimming, that's all."
"You're scared." Emily breaks out in a smile while she teases me.
"No, don't feel like swimming."
"Scaredy-cat."
"I'm not fucking scared."
She backs up, walking slowly without looking, further into the sea. She wants me to admit that I'm scared- basic banter between the two of us. Basically since we were toddlers. "Fine," I say, stopping her. "Fine, I don't like the idea of being shredded apart by sharks."
I no more than say this when a child starts screaming and crying. "Daddy, the man said there were sharks!" He cries. "He said they're going to shred us apart."
Emily covers her mouth, more to keep her laughing silenced. I turn quickly to face the father. "No, sir, that isn't what I was saying at all."
The man comes strutting over, reaching for his son. "No, Stanley, there aren't any sharks around." The snarl he gives me while turning to head back to the sand is probably more threatening than a shark roaming the waters. The boy continues to cry against his dad's shoulders, leaving me feeling three inches tall.
Facing Emily, I narrow my eyes. "See what you made me do?"
She falls back into the water, ignoring my remark as she cools off. I stand sort of close by- in case anything does lurk in the water, ready to attack- but I don't swim. I've always had a protectiveness over her, even more so since our parents passed.
An hour or more later, she finally descends from the water. By then I'm sitting at the shore line, cooled off and ready to head in. She grabs for a towel that is covered in sand, wiping herself off. "I'm starving," she mentions. When I stand to head inside with her, she mentions in passing. "Oh, and I came up with the perfect grand gesture."
"You couldn't have mentioned that when I first came out here? You know, rather than getting me in trouble with some kid's dad."
She grins. "Oops." Laughing, she walks ahead of me towards the building.
Chapter Eleven
Brenna
