Cherry Blossoms

by KT Morrison

  “I’m hungry,” she said.

  GEOFF

  Odie got sun at the island, her face getting brown again, some freckles showing across her nose and cheeks that always appeared in the late summer. She lay sleeping across from him, in his bed, keeping him company. He had his phone in his hand, his body making its surfaces warm. It was clutched to his heart, at the ready, desperate to hear anything at all.

  There was a time when he lay alone in this bed, when Nia was in Montréal with Rocco, that he wondered if there would ever be a day he’d look back on that night with a fondness or an excitement. He did tonight. Longed for that night again to replace this one. Right now the pain of that night would be like a surprise birthday party compared to how he felt tonight.

  The not-knowing that night was thrilling. Gut-wrenching. Awful. But, fuck, Nia made him feel so alive. He’d lost who she was somewhere in their time together, loved her every bit the same, but that spark she had that roped him was snuffed. He coaxed it back. That night he lay here imagining all the things Rocco would do to her had been suffering. In present context, it wasn’t suffering at all. It was filled with life. Now he was filled with death. Now he wondered if there could possibly be a time in the future he’d look back and think fondly of this night.

  34

  The Bay

  Tuesday, September 5th

  NIA

  She woke with a start, her legs kicking and scissoring under the duvet. She was off the bed, out the door and standing in the dark cabin of the boat before she was fully awake.

  “What?” she cried, “What?” Looking around, wild and frightened. Her heart hammered blood up her neck, she looked left and right but the boat was empty. She didn't know what frightened her. Whatever it was, its terror was immense. She flexed her jaw, wide-eyed, pulse racing in the dark. The painkillers worked their magic and she didn't feel much of anything anymore. She was stuffed with blissful cotton. But something was after her.

  “What are you doing?” A deep and scary voice rattled the black and she saw a silhouette of a massive man laying in the bed she just fled. She took a step back and pressed herself to the closet door that faced the bedroom.

  “Nia?” It sounded angry.

  It came at her, throwing a duvet out of its way, thick legs and feet thumping down on the floor right in front of her. “Nia...”

  Her mouth opened to yell or scream—nothing happened and as it stood she felt so crazy, so stupid. She was on his boat, in his bed, this was her Rocco. She held her arms out as he came to her. He hugged her.

  “Nia?” he laughed, “What are you doing?”

  “I don't know,” she said, trying to imitate his laugh. “I had a nightmare, I guess.”

  “Come here,” he said and he rocked her in his arms.

  She felt a hard tangible awareness of her fear, held it like it was a box—metal, hollow, black-painted and chipped, poorly welded corners that were sharp—it was his care that frightened her. His consolation frightened her. It took her agency from her. She didn't call Geoff, she didn't call Odie, because she didn't have to. Rocco wouldn't let her. She let him take that from her. As quickly as she surmised the shape of her fear it was gone and the notion that she was holding it was ridiculous. She felt light-headed.

  “I have to sit down.”

  “Yeah, Nia, come on,” he said and a huge hand went to the small of her back and he guided her to sit on the bed, her bare feet still on the cabin floor. She clutched her knees.

  “Rocco, I have to call home.”

  “Nia...”

  “No, Rocco, no more tomorrows. Right now. Rocco, why haven't I called them?”

  “Okay, Nia. Call them,” he said, squatting down naked in front of her and looking up into her eyes. He caressed her thigh, his thumb rubbed her knee. “It’s time.”

  “It is, isn't it?”

  “It’s five in the morning. Let him sleep. Call when the sun comes up.”

  She jumped, grabbed his cheeks in her hands, “Oh my God, Rocco, what day is it?”

  “Tuesday.”

  “Oh fuck, Rocco, it’s her first day of school.” She grabbed at her hair and bunched it up at her temples. “What am I doing?”

  “We’ll call,” he told her, taking her wrists. “You’ll stay with me?”

  She nodded that she would.

  He said, “What if they come here?”

  “Okay,” she said. She had to see him, had to see her daughter. The idea of going home was still so frightening. The idea that she would walk back in their home was daunting. Like she didn't belong there. Like Geoff wouldn't want her there. How mad was Geoff going to be? One day had become another, then another... The last few days were a blur. Sleeping and crying and sunbathing. She went swimming, she drank rye and wine and Rocco cooked. It felt like it was a blip in time but yet she felt like the night with Maria was a month ago.

  He stroked her legs again, looking up into her eyes. “This will be hard, Nia, but I’m here for you. C’mon, let's go back to bed.”

  “Rocco, what am I going to say?”

  “Want me to call?”

  “I don't know.” She thought of Geoff answering the phone and hearing Rocco. Her poor Geoff, so unprepared for this.

  “It's up to you, Nia. I’ll call, you can call. We can work this out today. At least get it started.”

  “Rocco...”

  “You have to, Nia.”

  She climbed up on the bed and walked on her knees to the windows edge. She curled up by the glass, drew her legs up and tucked them under her T-shirt, squashed her breasts against herself, felt the warmth of her heart against her thighs. She watched the waves, black, grey light dancing on the peaks as the sky began to lighten. Rocco climbed in behind her, curled up next to her and put his arm around her waist.

  GEOFF

  “Come on, Odie, work with me, baby. We gotta get out of here.”

  “But you're hurting me, Daddy” she said, her hands coming up to hold her hair so his vigorous brushing stopped tugging at her scalp.

  She was dressed for school in a new shirt and skirt Nia had bought her a few weeks ago. Sitting on her stool in front of her dresser mirror, her daddy brushing her hair while she watched and winced in the reflection.

  “Do I have to go to school today?”

  “You do, baby.”

  “But Mommy—”

  “You go to school and I’m going to find her. I promise.”

  “You will?”

  “I’ll find her, baby, I swear. She’s coming home.”

  “You have to be on TV.”

  “That’s just ten minutes.”

  “I want to watch you.”

  “I’ll record it.”

  “Can’t I go?”

  He wheeled her around in her swivel stool, put his hands on her shoulders, one hand still clutching her hairbrush. “We’re going to get back to normal, right? Mommy will be home tonight. Winslow will come to work, I'm going to give him so much to do. I’m going to find Mom and then tomorrow, Mommy will be home and everything will be like it's supposed to be.”

  “Are you mad at Mommy?”

  “Not at all, Odie. I love Mommy. Just like you—you can never make me mad.”

  “Yes, I can,” she smiled.

  “Well, you can, but not for real-for real. First things first: you have to go to school. Now come on, I have to take you to Sara’s.”

  He’d arranged last night to drop Odie off at Sara’s before school. Sara’s mom said she’d love to. He explained he had to be on Breakfast Television at seven in the morning and Nia was away on business. She said it was no problem, drop her off early, she'd get her breakfast and take her to school.

  He rushed over to Sara’s mom’s place and walked Odie to the door and Sara's mom hadn't an ounce of suspicion as to why he was alone. She was all smiles and happiness and he hoped she couldn't smell the dread and horror and worry off him. Nia's friends knew he was a cuckold, it would be nice if the neighbours didn't.

 
; She wished him luck on TV and he kissed Odie on her hairline and she hugged him a little too long and he whispered, “Be strong,” before he might cry, and he got the hell out of there. He drove the Volvo along Queen Street and got to the show on time. There was lot parking at the TV station and he locked up and trotted past the small crowd gathered at the window trying to show up in the background of the morning show.

  Jenny was waiting for him in the lobby. Her face was drawn but it stretched to happiness as she saw him run in. She checked her watch out of reflex but he was right on time.

  “Geoff, thank God you made it, I had this worry you weren’t going to show...”

  “Why?” he said, wondering if she somehow knew his personal tragedies.

  She shook her head abruptly, said, “You're usually so early, silly,” she got up on her toes again and she lightly kissed his cheek.

  “Oh,” he said, relieved.

  “Now, come with me,” she said, taking him by the arm and leading him past security. “They need you in makeup, we have to be quick...”

  He let her lead the way and she got him past the security guard and down a busy hall lined with posters for some of the station’s original programming. This wasn’t his first time doing the morning show but his heart was pounding. Not excitement, but dread. He felt very alone, very unsupported. His mind was drawn far away from where it was supposed to be. It was off with Nia, off with poor Odie who had to live in this upset, start her first day of school feeling so unsupported just like he was. He thumped a fist on the smiling celebrity face printed on a poster as he passed.

  “Geoff, this is Logan,” Jenny said, extending a hand out to a skinny girl with glasses and blue-tinted pigtails. She stood smiling at him with both her tattooed hands draped over the back of a makeup chair. “She's going to do your makeup. Can I get you something? Do you need a coffee? Water, Geoff...anything?”

  He sat down in the chair and Logan swivelled him to face the mirror dotted with soft glow light bulbs. “Uh, a water, Jenny, that'd be great, thanks.”

  She rested her hand on his shoulder and was about to say something when his phone rang. “Sorry, Jenny,” he said, holding a finger up to pause her as he rifled through the pocket of his khakis, frantic to get his phone. The pocket turned inside out, a white dog ear hanging at his hip as he yanked his phone free, his hand shaking. It was a number he didn't recognize. Every bit of his being had been dying to see his Nia's name on the screen. Still, an unknown name could at least bear some news. He answered.

  A deep voice said, “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Rocco.”

  He jumped out of the seat, bumping Logan's hand as she powdered his face. He pulled off the bib she put around his collar. “Do you know where she is?” he blurted.

  “She’s with me.”

  He scrambled away from Jenny and Logan, bumping some others who'd gathered with coffee cups, waiting for their own turn to be made TV ready.

  “Geoff,” Jenny said, “don't—you're on soon...”

  He waved her off and stumbled into the busy hall just outside the makeup room.

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s okay.”

  “Is she hurt?”

  “She’s healing.”

  “She is?” he cried. “She was hurt?”

  “She was, yeah,” he grumbled.

  “Can I talk to her?” he said, his voice high and warbling as he tried not to sob.

  “She wants you to come and see her.”

  “Oh my God,” he gasped. “Anything. Anything...where?”

  “Marina on Cook’s Bay,” he growled. There was muffled scratches as the phone brushed his stubble as he moved around wherever he was with his Nia. “I'm sending you a map. Call this number when you get there.”

  “Okay, Rocco. Can I please talk to her? Is she there? Rocco?” But he was gone. The line blank.

  He gripped his phone to his chest and he tried not to cry tears. This was something. He'd see her today. This would be over soon.

  GEOFF

  The segment had gone horribly. There was no way to tell for sure, but he felt it was awful. His mind was so far away, the cameras froze him. He asked the host, the nice lady who'd called him eye-candy last time he was on, to repeat her questions three times. He felt sallow and waxen, and that no amount of makeup could have hidden the fear in his expression. His hands shook uncontrollably as the camera focused on him turning the pages and talking about the trains in the book. He cleared his throat too many times. He stuttered. He felt like he let Jenny down. Everything was shit and it sure was piling up. Any mom watching that escapade while they got their kids ready for school would think Geoff J. Kane was on something. Think he was some kind of pill head.

  When it was over and the cameras were off the host thanked him profusely, tried to sweet talk him about how her niece loved his book on divorce. He'd extricated himself. Nodding, saying Thanks and cocking his head, smiling. Inside he was screaming Shut the fuck up, I have to get out of here, you dumb bitch! But he smiled and he walked backwards while she talked, getting himself out of the studio. Jenny was on the other side of the tall black room, across from him, blocked by paunchy key grips, sandwiched in a narrow gap between two sets of metal stadium seating holding the small studio audience. She was trying to get his attention. He pretended not to see her. He darted out to the lobby, saw Jenny then coming out a doorway down a long hall and he turned and ran. Barged through the doors to the outside and into the sunlight. He bustled through the crowd gathered against the glass trying to wave at the cameras.

  Getting out of the parking was easy, but within three minutes he was backed up in standstill street traffic. He roared, and shook himself against the wheel. His breaths came panicked and he calculated the time til he was north. What, an hour and a half? She was so fucking far away. He grabbed his phone and he called Sara’s mom. A little update on Odie might calm him. He caught her before they’d left, and he asked her how the morning was going. She was chipper for so early, but of course he doubted the person she loved was off with another, hiding out, hating her for not defending her when they’d had their head bashed in for sleeping with someone else's spouse. No, Geoff’s problems were quite specific and as a result quite intense. His mind raced, gauging if he should do what he wanted to do here...

  He did it. He had no friend, just his wife and his daughter. He asked Sara’s mom if she could put Odie on the phone.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hey, baby. Can you do me a favour?”

  “Sure.”

  “I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise me you won't let Sara's mom see you react. Can you do that?”

  “What is it, Daddy?”

  She wasn't going to comply, he could sense it.

  “Baby, I found Mommy, okay? Don't tell Sara’s mom she was missing, okay? Remember what I said before...”

  He heard a whimpering.

  “Odie. Don't cry, baby. O, I'm going to get her right now. I'm driving to get her right now, you hear me?”

  “Okay, Daddy,” she said, her voice stilted and tight.

  “Odie?”

  “Yes, Dad?”

  “Oh, baby, are you being a strong girl for me?”

  “I am,” she said, but he could hear the emotion in her voice.

  “God,” he said, a tear streaming down his cheek. “Baby, you're stronger than I am. Odie,” he sniffed wetly, “Mommy will be home tonight, okay? I gotta go, baby. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  He closed the call and watched the streets through his wet and blurry vision. He wiped his eyes and laughed and sniffed again, holding his phone tight in his grip while he tried not to bump into the car ahead of him. There was something shining in him. Something bright, like a ray of sun breaking through a cloud. A sign of his first happiness in a week.

  GEOFF

  It was on the 400 highway that he thought he might have someone
following him. It was a man on a motorcycle with a black helmet and he knew what that meant. Knew who it must be. The farther north he got, and could still see this guy slung over an old fat-tire bike, the more his imagination worked and the more frightened he became. He’d sometimes even imagine he heard the bike’s haunting rumble even though it was never close enough.

  Far north, when he slid along the rolling highway exit into the tall pine trees and he watched the sun glint off the bike as it tilted to bank and follow him along the curve he feared he was heading into a trap. Now he heard its motor—a deadly threatening sound, the closer it got the more the apprehension built in him.

  The Dragonieri brothers were going to kill him. He fell for it. We have your wife. Come and get her. And like a dummy he’d show up at some waterfront edge and now the brutal Dino would smash him over the head, maybe crush it to a pulp with a cinder block and weight his body down at the bottom of Lake Simcoe. Or would Rocco do it? They both had feelings for Nia, and love and lust and passion drove men to do disastrous bloodthirsty things. Nia was a woman that would drive a man to murder. Even Geoff.

  With that in his mind he drove on. Drove under the tall trees that lined the country road, the sun bright, the sky the happiest shade of blue he could imagine. He had no choice. He would walk into a trap for his wife.

  He was on County Line Nine, whisking past low ramshackle homes, little pre-war bungalows in various shades of dilapidation. Overgrown and desolate. Yet, ahead at the end of the road, he saw the brilliant navy lake, twinkling light on its easy waves. Such beauty amongst human decrepitude. As he got closer, the tall sign of the Amore-Bento Marina became clear enough to read. He glanced at his phone, face up on the passenger seat of the Volvo, saw the red pinging dot right where it should be, he looked up again, dead ahead. The bike was still behind him.

  The houses in the immediate vicinity of the lake were nicer. Small, but they had German vehicles in the driveways, boats on trailers. The Volvo slowed to a creep as he got to the wide gravel entrance of the marina. It was a big open yard, well-kept, with weathered wooden fencing separating it from the road. He drove under a rustling birch tree and Canadian flags, and pulled into the parking. The marina itself was a low tin roof building, one story, long, maybe two hundred feet with a twenty foot tall tower in the centre done in brick. It held the logo and some sponsorship signage, names of boat companies.