Thirty Days: Part Two

by Belle Brooks

  Mosby chortled then snorted then choked on his water upon my description of the aching butt cheeks that were resting on a donut pillow that has been given to me. Damn straight. That air filled pillow has been my saviour. Mine was pink, not orange, so I called her Sasha Fierce, in honour of my vagina damaged friend, Leza.

  Photos of baby Tully leak like liquid across a glass screen on Chatterbox. They also fill my gallery on my phone’s memory now as well. She’s pretty cute with her big round cheeks and perfect cupid’s bow above her full lips. Leza and Andrew created something beautiful that screams, poops, and vomits…apparently. Tully is like a demon possessed on upchuck.

  As the breeze whistles through structures causing them to bounce, I lie outstretched on the sun lounge, closing my eyes and enjoying the sound. Finally, able to walk and get around, I leave Marcus to sleep a much needed afternoon nap.

  So much has changed for me. I know that when I get home my life will become so much better. First task is getting my teaching job back. It’s what I’m good at and it’s the one thing I really enjoy doing. Erasing all the bad that’s happened and putting behind me the things I’ve done, I can’t imagine will be easy, but I need to go back to being Abigail the Great, the girl who once embraced life even with its downfalls.

  “Babe, why didn’t you wake me?” Marcus’ sleepy voice drifts from behind me.

  I twist my head, trying to find those dark and mesmerising eyes. There they are.

  “Because you needed to sleep.”

  “It’s five-thirty p.m. I have to cook your pre birthday dinner.” He rubs at his eyes.

  “You’re too sweet.”

  “That I am.” There’s no arrogance in his tone, only confidence, which causes me to giggle.

  “Ilish,” he says.

  Mar-Mar. What is she doing here? I stand gingerly and enter the villa slowly, but without aid.

  “Take those sweats off and Marcus’ shirt…” she says, looking me up and down before rolling her eyes. “We’re going to have a little girl time before dinner.”

  “Really?” My tone brightens.

  “Yes. Off you go…Marcus, don’t you have dinner to attend to?”

  “Yes,” he responds quickly.

  The sounds of banging pots and pans have me sniggering in the bedroom as I change into a little black dress, something I owned sometime in the last seven years. It was in the port that Marcus gave me. Slightly shorter than I remember it. I slip on a pair of thongs because heels are definitely out of the picture currently, and grab my wallet and phone.

  “Ready,” I say on re-entry.

  “Good. We’ll see you at seven,” Mar-Mar informs Marcus. “Don’t stuff this up.”

  He chuckles while wrapping a black apron around his casual attire.

  Taking his mouth to mine, I sense normalcy and picture Marcus one day in our home wearing an apron, preparing a feast. Only I picture him naked and it is so arousing.

  “Love you.”

  “Ditto.” I smirk.

  Grady waits by the SUV, and it’s then I notice Mar-Mar is dressed in her Sunday best. A floral printed dress, a touch of make-up…hang on, what’s going on here?

  “Miss Abigail.”

  “Grady.” I purse my lips. These people are creating a diversion, but why?

  Mar-Mar remains quiet, and we pull up in front of a local tavern. The sign says, The Strand.

  “Mar-Mar, I know Marcus is going to be in there. What are you up to?”

  Her smile radiates, sweet and innocent.

  Helping me over the gutter, we walk through the doors simultaneously, and I wait for the scream of surprise. There’s nothing.

  “Come on, we’ll sit at the table over there.”

  Rows of light wooden tables fill a courtyard. Dusty red bricked flooring and cast iron walls with scattered paintings hung upon them complete the structure.

  I guess I was wrong.

  “What can I get you to drink?” Lanky arms hanging out of short black sleeves are my first vision. Turning my eyes upward, a man with thick framed glasses and bleached blond hair with harsh blue tips appears.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Good evening, I’m Bruce. Can I get you ladies something to drink?”

  “Two glasses of sweet wine. On second thoughts, a bottle. You select it for us.” Mar-Mar is her usual confident self.

  “Perfect.” He turns abruptly and leaves.

  “Okay. Wine’s good. So how was your day?”

  “It was good, sweetheart. Yours?”

  “Yeah, good.”

  Mar-Mar stares at me peculiarly, like in a way someone would when fearing it might be the last time they get to see you for a while. A shiver creeps down my spine.

  “It’s so refreshing, you know?” Mar-Mar’s deep in thought.

  “What is?”

  “That sparkle returning to your eyes.”

  I can’t hold back a soft smile.

  “I think we might have just achieved what we set out to do here.”

  “I feel good, Mar-Mar. I really do.”

  “I know you do.” Mar-Mar brushes her hand through her hair before saying, “You have to go home tomorrow, Abigail, back to your life. But before you can, you have to make some decisions about how you return.”

  I shrug my shoulders before my nail meets my teeth and I bite down.

  “What do you plan to change?”

  “Everything,” I mumble.

  “How?”

  Taking a moment to think about the first thing I plan to do, I continue to nibble against my nail. Mar-Mar never rushes me. She just sits quietly, waiting.

  “Well, first I have to get my job back. Teaching was my grounding and without it, I’m never going to be me again.”

  “That’s good to hear—”

  “A bottle of sweet white. I think you’ll enjoy this simple Pink Moscato.” Bruce pours the pink liquid into two glasses before placing the bottle into a silver holder filled with ice. “Enjoy.”

  “Thank you.” Mar-Mar is as polite as ever.

  There’s a calm silence before Mar-Mar takes a decent mouthful of wine and points to a picture on the wall. It’s a beach view that looks just as flawless as the one we witnessed from that hilltop about a week ago.

  “Abigail, I want you to always remember that view. Whenever life gets you down, close your eyes and remember it, okay?”

  “Yeah. I think I will, Mar-Mar.” I take small and spaced sips from my glass.

  “What about Marcus?” She’s quick to the punch.

  “Slow and steady, I think. What do you think?”

  “Wise.” Her eyebrows lift high on her forehead. “I’m proud of you, Abigail, and I really love you. You’ll always be my favourite.” She winks, and I bounce one right back. “Please stop giving your mother so much crap, okay?”

  “I will.” I’ve been so silly, bratty, and self-absorbed.

  The wine bottle empties quickly. I suggest we order another, but Mar-Mar firmly states no. What Mar-Mar says goes.

  Standing to her feet, she slings a handbag I hadn’t seen her holding over her shoulder and simply states, “Time to leave.”

  Okay. “Mar-Mar, the bill?”

  “Taken care of it,” she calls back.

  When?

  I don’t catch up to her. My ankles don’t allow it, and by the time I reach the SUV nightfall is settling and Grady stands with the door open. Mar-Mar has already disappeared inside.

  “Homeward bound, Miss Abigail.”

  I smile as his sweet dimple divots inwardly.

  The road is a little bumpier than I remembered it on the way here. Mar-Mar’s eyes are closed as her chin tilts back, her head resting against the headrest.

  “Grady. Divider up, please,” she suddenly orders.

  He complies.

  “Mar-Mar—”

  She takes both my hands in hers and angles her shoulders towards me. “Abigail, I have one more lesson for you to learn.”

  “Okay.”

>   Something’s wrong with this picture, but I can’t quite figure out what.

  “Letting someone you love go…allowing them to find you in a different light is a healthy thing. When you go home, rebuild yourself first, for you. Not for a man.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “You will be with Marcus. But before you can be the woman he deserves on his arm, you have to find your true self. You should never be defined by another, only by your own doing.”

  “Mar-Mar, are you telling me to leave Marcus again?”

  “Briefly, yes.”

  “No, it will destroy him. I can’t do that. It will destroy me.”

  “I’m sorry, Abigail, but it’s what you should do. It’s what is right. Look at me.” Her eyes turn from blue entwined with green into murky grey when they connect with mine. “Abigail, you will be together again, but first you need to sort yourself out.”

  I nod, biting at my lip. Leaving Marcus now would be impossible. But I will take Mar-Mar’s advice on board and think about it, even though I know I won’t walk away.

  “Good girl.” She kisses the back of my hand so gently. I barely feel her lips.

  The car stops. The engine turns off. The door opens. Grady helps me out. My mouth draws slack when I see Mar-Mar’s beach cottage. Hang on.

  “Come on.” Mar-Mar takes my hand in hers. The combination of soft and warmth radiates from her hold, but strangely my fingertips freeze cold as we reach the door.

  “SURPRISE!”

  “Holy Crap!” is my response when all the faces of the people who have never given up on me and who have stood by my side, rush towards me huddled together.

  “Mum, Sammy, Mosby. What the heck? Leza, Andrew, Ange, Sophie…” There are no more words.

  Evan and Marcus stand shoulder to shoulder as all the balloons and streamers become evident. My body is passed around, like a pass the parcel in embrace and it’s safe to say Marcus does deliver a mighty surprise, one I wasn’t expecting once nobody was at the bar.

  “Here, say hello.”

  My arms cradle a newly birthed infant…Tully. She smells so fresh and not poopy like I expected she would. I stare at her perfect face and kiss her head. “She’s beautiful, Leza.”

  “We think she’s something special.” She beams eternal happiness as Andrew’s arms wrap around Leza’s waist. Shortly followed by Marcus, wrapping his own around mine.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” His breath is soft against my neck.

  “Yeah.” I tilt my chin and I’m instantly captured by milky eyes that swirl into dark chocolate. Eyes made for my viewing.

  Everyone disperses to the table with one single clap of Mar-Mar’s hands.

  Is someone going to take this baby?

  Looking for Ginger, I don’t have to look far because she’s walking towards me. Sammy.

  Forehead to forehead, she breathes against my face. Her hand holds the back of my head firmly and she says, “Girl, you have so much to come. Don’t give up. You are strong, you held brave, and now is the time to live.”

  Why did she just say that?

  “I love you, Dorothy.”

  “I love you, Ginger.”

  Something’s not right.

  Sammy takes Tully from my arms and walks towards the table…I follow closely behind.

  Laughter, so much laughter. Storytelling to the extreme and a delicious spread of heated foods, ones I know Marcus could have never prepared because it all tastes too much like Mar-Mar’s cooking.

  Ting…Ting…Ting.

  Marcus stands tall. He’s dressed in a tailored black suit. His face is clean-shaven, his hair well groomed. The corners of his lips arch as he looks me directly in the eyes.

  “Abigail, I would be lying if I didn’t say how pleased I am to be here celebrating your twenty-fifth birthday. If someone had told me this day would come, I wouldn’t have believed a word. Time stole so much from us, but now we have the chance to make amends. I love you and always have. Thank you for remembering, there is no gift I can give you that will exceed the one you’ve just given me. Abigail, there is no puddle in our way, not even a single drop of water. You’re forever mine.”

  My eyes begin to well. I’m speechless and can’t find words. His lips slowly approach mine and he tastefully kisses me in front of our company. Once we’ve parted, I look around the table. All eyes are glazed by tears. I don’t want to cry anymore.

  Standing up, I raise my glass and take a large sip. “No crying, people. Happy birthday to me. One more sleep until the big two…five.”

  “Here…here,” they chant loudly, raising their glasses sky-high.

  Dark chocolate cake with cream filling completes dessert and before long the night draws to an end. The clock on the wall reads 11:30 p.m. Thirty more minutes and it will officially be my birthday.

  The exchange of hugs and kisses on the way out has me wondering where the hell everyone is staying, but I don’t ask as I watch them all climb into a convoy of black SUVs. I’m guessing they were provided by Mr. Moneybags, who still insists he’s comfortable, not wealthy. Hmm.

  The last one of our guests to wrap their arms around me is my mother. Her soft blue eyes are smiling, so I know her lips are, too. “You’re still my baby, Abigail. Always will be. My chubby cheeked little girl, in that pink dress, with her hair plaited perfectly falling far down her back. You’ll always be her.”

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning. I have a present I know you will want.”

  “Tell me now,” I demand in a brat like tone.

  “In the morning.” Her finger points in authority.

  “Fine.” My arms flail to the air before slapping against my outer thighs.

  Mar-Mar gently strokes my arm as we stand together waving. All doors close and my heart begins to ache. It’s a raw and intense pain.

  “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” My fingers grab the coattails of Marcus’ jacket as he passes by me.

  “Home, Abigail.”

  “Oh, we’re going now, too. Hang on, I’ll grab my things.” I go to turn.

  “No, I’ll see you soon. Grady will come collect you.”

  “No. It’s fine. I’ll come with you now.”

  “Soon,” he says softly before he lays his mouth upon mine.

  Confused.

  Reaching into his pant pocket, he retrieves something, keeping it tucked protectively into his palm.

  “Abigail, I’ve got something I want to give you.” His fingers curl back and in the middle of his hand sits a velvet red box. The same box he opened in presentation to me as he dropped to his knee on the day I fell from a cliff and forgot him.

  “You could have wrapped my present, Marcus.” I’m nervous and deflection seems like the only thing I can do to stop myself from dropping down.

  “It’s not for your birthday. I just want you to hold onto this for me. Keep it safe. When the time is right I will get down on bended knee and ask you to marry me again. I can tell you remember every minute of that day just from the look in your eyes when I just now showed you this box. Here, take it everywhere with you, because if it is with you then you will find me everywhere.”

  What the hell is he talking about? He’s not making sense.

  “You keep it,” I spit.

  “It’s safer with you.”

  Before I can say another word, his mouth crashes hard to mine. He pulls my body so tightly against his, my lungs constrict. The taste of mint chills my throat before my lips are left naked once more.

  “I love you, Abigail.” He turns and strolls down the path.

  “Hey, stop!” I yell.

  Mar-Mar takes my hand, holding me in place.

  Marcus glances back over his shoulder and his lips curl before he leaves me with his million-dollar smile.

  “Marcus.” My tone is desperate.

  The car door opens and he enters.

  “Mar-Mar, why is Marcus leaving? Did you tell him to leave me, too?”
Instant panic courses through my blood as the convoy of SUVs pull out one after the other. Marcus is the first to leave.

  “No!” I scream.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Mar-Mar whispers in my ear. “Don’t be frightened. You’re safe.”

  My head whirls, my breathing quickens, and I begin to cry. Just as the first tear rolls down my face, the blue mixed with black night sky lightens. It’s not a gradual occurrence, but sudden. A light blue horizon with no fluffy clouds, not a dirty speck nor a bird flying freely against it, takes its place. My perfect image recreated in Mar-Mar’s driveway.

  I take only one breath before it flashes four times and disappears…replaced by a strong punitive white. All that exists in this white is Mar-Mar and me.

  “Seriously. What the actual fuck is going on, Mar-Mar?”

  “Abigail, honey, it’s okay.”

  She’s smiling. My batshit crazy grandmother is smiling like the whole world turning white is nothing. Brush it off, we don’t need houses or living organisms, let’s just all reside in a land of nothingness. Why isn’t she panicking?

  “Abigail, calm down. The world still exists. It hasn’t gone anywhere.”

  “Umm...” My mouth gapes open and my hands flail every which way. The box, it’s still in my hand. I stop moving. I study Mar-Mar’s soft expression. “I’m asleep and I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

  “Exactly.” She nods.

  “So I’m in my bed. I just have to wake up and that’s all.”

  “You’re in a bed.” She emphasises the A.

  “Not mine.”

  “No.” She shakes her head.

  I feel my eyes widen and then I realise I can no longer hear my heart beating in my inner ear. Placing my hand to my chest, I wait for the timed thuds. Nothing. Lifting two fingers, while containing the velvet box between my thumb and the other two fingers, I place them to my wrist. No pulse.

  “Mar-Mar, am I dead?” My tone is robotic as my limbs numb.

  The corners of her lips curl upwards. “No, you’re not dead, but you are visiting.”

  “Visiting. What?” My arms begin flailing like a crazed maniac, as I try really hard to figure out what the hell is happening.