by Belle Brooks
Finding a Way
I stretch my limbs after we’re both woken by a call from Mar-Mar asking why we have not turned up for dinner. I didn’t have a clue we were expected to be there, but you never argue with Mar-Mar. You just do as you’re told. Marcus grumbles as, he too, makes his way from the bed. It’s safe to say we are both drained, emotionally and physically. We fell asleep clutched in each other’s embrace with the ultrasound picture of our baby girl the only thing separating our chests. I guess maybe one day I do want to have a baby, even if it does turn me into a monster that quite possibly wants to devour the soul of another. Marcus slinks his arms around my waist from behind. His hands slide across my empty womb as his chin rests on my shoulder. He says not a word…he just holds me in a way that lets me know I’m going to be okay now. I don’t want to believe I’m cursed anymore. Maybe I am just inheritably clumsy, always in the wrong place at the wrong time…where shit happens. Undoubtedly, I do have slow reflexes, but all these things make me special. The Captain might have just unlocked all the answers.
I wonder if he is okay and if Grace was mad when she went to the hospital. I should get Marcus to take me to him. After all, they’ve known each other for a long time…well, according to Grady, they have.
“Come on, let’s wash up. Ilish will come and knock down this door if we don’t get a move on.”
The word Ilish from his lips is bitter sweet now, our baby named after my grandmother. I wonder if Mar-Mar knows she existed.
***
Hand in hand, I quickly fall into stride with Marcus. The path meets the sidewalk and I’m surprised to see Grady standing in a suit by the black SUV. The street lights glow orange above us as he opens the back door and offers me assistance. I take it because my body feels bruised and weak.
“Mr. Klein.” He tips his head before Marcus pats his shoulder as he strides past him.
Opening the opposite door to the one I entered, Marcus flashes me his perfectly straight white teeth and whispers, “Forever mine.”
I sure hope so.
“How did you know we needed a lift and were too tired to walk, Grady?” I ask politely.
“ESP,” he replies before following with, “Marcus messaged me.”
“Did he?”
“I’m way too tired to walk,” he confesses with a hint of embarrassment.
“Superheroes never get tired.” I’m caught off guard by the intense stare I receive in return. He’s not angry. He’s honoured. I reach out, brushing the hair from those familiar eyes.
“Come here.” He unclicks my seatbelt, pulling me across his lap. “I love you,” he confesses before he kisses me like our lives depend on this very action at this specific moment.
A soft moan emanates from my throat as his tongue shows me how very much he does love me. Shifting my body from across his lap to a straddling position, I rotate my hips against him.
His hands hurry to the thick straps of the black dress I’m wearing, sliding them down my arms. His lips leave mine and he says with a higher pitch, “Grady, take a scenic route and be a good man and slide that divider up.”
“Yes, sir.” You can hear the humour in his tone.
“I love you,” I confess before joining our lips once more. Marcus presses his mouth so hard to mine that I moan loudly. I never want him to stop kissing me like this.
Two hands knead at my breasts as my hips begin rocking against him. “Oh, I fucking love you.”
Burying my hands into his thick locks, I intensify my movements, which causes Marcus to run his fingertips down each side of my body until he stops at the hem of my dress. One hand slips under the material, kneading at my inner thigh. As he gets closer to the place that makes me all woman, he groans loudly against my mouth. Placing his finger in the crevice between my leg and pelvic bone, he stops, flinging his head back.
I freeze.
“Abigail, where is your underwear?”
A wicked smile touches my own lips in response.
“Oh, you’re naughty,” he says with burning eyes. As he thrusts his finger inside me, I suck in a forced breath of surprise before dropping my head into the crook of his neck, my lips kissing every part of skin they can reach.
“Show me what you want,” he whispers against my just brushed hair.
I comply, lifting my bottom up slightly before dropping down hard.
“Where have you been?”
Throwing me against the seat in one swift motion, the sound of his zipper pulling down has my breath stuttering. Opening my legs wide with his hands, he hovers, teasing me before wrapping his fingers around my thighs. Reefing me to him, he says, “Ready?”
“Yes.” I throw my hands back, grabbing at the inner door handle just before he leans above me and forces himself inside me.
“Forever,” I breathe with the force, biting my lip with my teeth.
“Abigail, you’re mine,” he declares, slipping his hand under my head and planting his mouth upon mine.
All air leaves my body. All the worries of the world follow and I stare into eyes that I want to see for the remainder of my life…every day and every night.
My Marcus.
The car launches over what I believe to be a speed bump as Marcus slightly loses his balance on a thrust. He doesn’t stop. This only makes him work harder.
“Marcus, please,” I beg, knowing I’m so close to losing my equilibrium with an earth-shattering release.
“Stay with me,” he says, never taking his eyes from mine.
“I can’t!” I scream out just as a million stars explode behind my closed eyelids. My body tremors uncontrollably as a wild groan hums from his throat.
We still…we pant…we’re perfect.
When my eyes flick open, Marcus is shirtless. How the hell did that happen? He withdraws from me and then instructs me to wait. Wait for what?
Eyes so dark sit an inch from my face as he kisses the tip of my nose.
“Let me help you.” He cradles my head and casually helps me upright as he fans out the bottom of my dress.
I’m sitting on something.
“Marcus.”
“Yes,” he replies, pulling the middle seat belt across my chest.
“Where’s your shirt?”
His head tips back. “Cleaning up a little mess.” He sniggers.
“Oh.”
A knock rings loudly from the tinted divider that separates us from the driver.
“We’ve reached your destination.” The sound is loud, like Grady is in the back seat with us.
“Speakers.” Marcus points out.
“Oh. I hope he didn’t have them turned on before.”
Marcus grins before pushing a button beside his head, telling Grady we are ready.
“Oh my goodness.” I know I’m blushing due to the embarrassment of knowing that another person was in the car when we were lost in the throes of our passion. I wonder if this is something we did when we were younger—public sexual escapades.
The door opens on Marcus’ side first. “Hope you enjoyed your trip, sir.”
“It was pleasant, Grady. I’ll help Abigail. While I do, please take off your shirt.”
“What?” My mouth draws slack, gaping wide-open.
“Watch your step.”
Grady stands at the front of Mar-Mar’s house, unbuttoning his business shirt as Marcus’ ripped chest remains naked.
“Grady, you don’t have to give him your shirt. Marcus, stop.” I fear my skin has changed from a blush pink to a tomato red.
Grady doesn’t halt his action and with a final slip of his arm he too is now shirtless.
“Oh my God! You two.”
“You look away.” Marcus snickers as he turns my head.
“Have a good evening, sir.”
“I intend to. Please await pick-up.”
“No,” I say defiantly. “Please come in and join us for dinner.”
“Yes. That’s a good idea. Grady, you will be joining us.”
“Of c
ourse, sir.”
I can’t hold back the laughter that I try so hard to contain behind pinched lips when I see Marcus in Grady’s shirt. It’s skin-tight to his body.
“Stop laughing. It suits me,” Marcus says.
“Yes. If you say so, He-Man.”
Marcus’ head tips back as Grady slips inside the car.
“You can’t make Grady come to dinner with no shirt on.”
Marcus doesn’t reply.
Stepping out from behind the closed driver side door, Grady appears as he previously was, dressed fully in a suit.
“Hang on. What?”
“I keep a spare, Miss Abigail.”
“Well, why the heck didn’t you just give Marcus that one?”
Marcus laughs loudly as he takes my hand in his because he’s worried that I might end up on the pavement on my bottom again.
Oh, he thinks he’s funny, doesn’t he? I’ll show him funny.
A soft sound of heckling spews out from behind me as we walk to the door of Mar-Mar’s cottage. Grady thinks this is funny, too.
The door opens with Mar-Mar waiting for us. “What took you two so long?”
“A little detour,” Marcus replies as smooth as butter. He really is a magician.
“Ilish, Grady.” He passes by her, still holding my hand.
“Yes, Grady, nice to see you again.”
“Seriously, does everybody in this world know Mar-Mar?” I flick my hand from Marcus’ grip and walk towards a dining room table set for three.
“She can be a brat,” Mar-Mar says, following behind me. “I’ll set you a place, Grady, please take a seat.”
When a hot roast pork dinner with crackle and dark brown gravy is placed on the table, I realise I’m so starving that I’m bordering hangry. The first bite results in a dribble of gravy skirting my chin and marking my dress. “Say nothing.” I glare before trying again, this time succeeding on the second attempt.
Mar-Mar and the boys play catch-up on what’s been happening since they last headed to the Cap Coast. I take in bits and pieces, but mainly I scoff my face like a ravenous wolf.
“Mum! I forgot to call Mum.” Dropping the cutlery, I push back the chair and stumble trying to get up.
“Slow down, Abigail. Your mother is fine and home. Finish your dinner and then you can call her.”
“Oh.” I breathe, clutching my chest. I really am a pathetic excuse for a daughter. I have to get my head on straight and pull my finger out of my arse.
“Yes, you do.” Mar-Mar glances at me, a ghost of a smile at her lips.
Did Mar-Mar just read my thoughts?
“So, Ilish, how was your day?” Grady asks before complimenting her on an amazing home cooked meal.
“It was relaxing. I took Abigail’s car to the car wash. The roads can be quite dusty with all the construction that’s taking place on the highways currently. My daily stroll through the hilltops was superb. Then I came home and had some lunch before I returned to this interesting novel about the American Civil War, which took place between 1861 and 1865, a fantastic read.”
Hearing Mar-Mar share her knowledge of this war has me listening intently. She never wasted a second of her life wishing for anything. She has always chased after everything she’s ever wanted.
“I think I might head over to the States next year. I’d like to see it one more time.”
“I could go with you,” I blurt out.
“Not a chance.” She laughs. “I like to adventure on my own, see the things I want to see.”
I guess she’s used to being on her own now, since so much has been taken away from her. Sadness slumps my shoulders.
Grady and Marcus clear the table, while Mar-Mar drinks a glass of port on the deck. Retrieving the keys from Grady for the SUV, I locate my phone and immediately dial Mum.
Her tone sounds glum when she replies.
“Hey, petal.”
“Mumma, I love you and I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.” These words escape my mouth even before my mind registers I needed to say them.
“I love you, too. Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I’m remembering so much now. I think it’s helping.”
“Good.”
“Mum?”
“Yes.”
“How are you?”
She pauses before lying to me. I know she’s lying because her tone tells me so much more than her words. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not, don’t lie.”
“Okay, I’m okay, but worried.” I hear the smile in her voice.
“Better,” I sing.
“You are one in a million, child.”
“And you are one in a billion, Mum.” There’s silence before we both find ourselves reconnecting miles away in different towns through a handheld device.
Tucking the phone to the crook of my neck, I listen for the first time in ages. My fingers trace around the steering wheel as Mum explains the procedure she will undergo on Wednesday.
“Mum, it will be okay, yeah?”
“I hope so.”
“Is Evan taking good care of you?”
“He is. Abigail, I’m tired, sweetheart. I think I’m going to lie down.”
“Mum, are you sure you’re okay on your own? Because if you’re not, I’ll drive home.”
“I’m not alone, petal.”
A soft giggle escapes me, causing Mum to join in through the line. “Well, you just tell Evan to keep his hands to himself. You’re a respectable lady, Mum.”
“Okay.” She laughs.
“Mum.” I draw out the word.
“Night, Abigail.”
“Night, Mum.”
“Bye, sweetheart, I’ll ring you tomorrow. I love you.”
“Dit—” I stop. “I love you, too.”
Pressing the red phone icon, we disconnect.
A call to Sammy to check in is not fraught with the previous tension we’ve been displaying. It’s more relaxed and filled with a carefree nature.
“I’m thinking Jackson and I might take a holiday,” she informs me. “Spain is at the top of my list. I’m looking through travel magazines right now, and I really want to see Antoni Gaudí’s buildings. You should see the pictures. I can’t imagine standing right in front of them. They have flamenco shows, and guess what, Abi? They have free tapas. How yum.”
“Sounds great.”
“Jackson wants to see a bullfight, but the looney also wants to run with the bulls, so I’m just checking out when they do that and I’ll make sure we don’t travel then. A horn to my intestines is not appealing at all.”
“Ouch. No.” I love listening to Sammy talk. I miss her.
“Abs, Jackson says hi.”
“Tell him hi back.”
“She said hi back, baby.”
“Sammy, I’m going to go. I want to check up on Leza. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Hey, Abs?”
“Yes.”
“I’m happy you’re getting space.”
“Thanks, Ginger.”
“Tomorrow, yeah?”
“Tomorrow,” I reply.
“Adiós.”
“Adiós, Samigo. Do you get it? Sam-i-go.”
“You’re a dork.”
“Takes one to know one.”
With that, the line goes dead.
I make the final call to Leza, offering my late but sincere congratulations to her on the birth of Tully. I’m so wrapped up in making the necessary phone calls I don’t realise at first that over an hour has passed with me sitting in the front seat of the car. The time on my phone reads 9:45 p.m.
Sammy wasn’t joking. Leza really had a rough time through delivery, so rough she ended up needing a blood transfusion. Honestly, I don’t understand half of the terminologies she uses while explaining what happened, but from what I can gather, the baby split her open from arsehole to breakfast and decided that trying to remove all her mother’s internal organs on the way out was very necessary. If and w
hen I marry and decide to allow a helpless child into my life, I think I might opt for a C-section. Actually that thought causes me to cringe. Both sound horrible. Here’s hoping when I make that decision, men can do the baby carrying and delivering.
Two waving hands I spy in the distance have me waving in return.
Slipping down off the step, I land heavily on my knees as a gust of wind has my dress lifting and my bare arse exposed. You have got to be kidding.
“You could have saved me from such a sight, Abigail,” Mar-Mar grunts on approach.
I know I’m blushing when I jump up, dusting my hands on the material that just betrayed me.
“Where are your knickers?” Mar-Mar’s appalled.
I don’t answer because what the hell does one say to that question. Marcus tips his head back and laughs loudly. I suppress the need to punch him square in the balls. This is his fault. Lucky for me it was only the two of them and Grady wasn’t outside. He appears just as this thought crosses my mind.
“Ready to go?” Marcus asks, wiping at his eyes.
I just glare at him while kissing Mar-Mar lightly on the lips.
“I have Bridge tomorrow night. The ladies will be around. It will be nibbly type of foods. Everybody supplies a dish.”
“Bridge. I might give that a miss.” My nose scrunches tightly.
“No, you will be here. I want them to meet you. Seven p.m.”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady.” How she saw is beyond me. I should know better… Mar-Mar sees everything.
Grady and Marcus both give Mar-Mar a squeeze and say their goodbyes and before long we’re on our way back to the villa. Tonight I must sleep, but the intense and wicked gaze Marcus is projecting right now tells me he has other ideas.
Rediscovery
Monday and Tuesday see the two of us holed up in the villa. We don’t leave for anything. Well, except to have dinner with my grandmother. Bridge was interesting with the ladies. They were foul-mouthed and batshit crazy. Who knew old people could speak in such a way? I’m sure they are much sweeter and pure in the daytime, but come Bridge night, they are dirty.
More memories have returned over the last two days and I am slowly starting to remember my pregnancy with our baby, Ilish. Mar-Mar knew about her. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. So many secrets were kept to protect me.
