Better Late Than Never

by Ghiselle St. James

  I’m standing on the sands of the place where our first union took place, in the place that holds our most tender memories. Cape Aventura is beautiful today – the ocean glinting a crystal blue under the sunlight, the lighthouse standing tall and stark in the distance, signaling love to find its way here.

  I check my watch, the time inching slowly towards twelve. It doesn’t usually take this long for it to get to midday, but of course the Universe isn’t done dragging me and Savannah out. Nervously, I scratch the back of my head and discretely smell my armpit…just making sure I, at least, smell good. Yeah, that’s why.

  Jesus, I’m a weirdo.

  My cell phone chimes in my pocket and I fish it out eagerly, hoping it’s not Savannah bailing on today. I’m not against finding her and dragging her back here or above stalking her ass to Florida. I’d find her wherever she went and convince her of what should have been all those years ago: That we belong.

  Douchebag: Stop bein a nervous little pussy. She’s gonna show.

  My cousin always had a way with words.

  Me: Fuck u Grayson.

  Great comeback, Kyle.

  Douchebag: U look like a sap. Ur triggering my period over here.

  I’m fucking triggering my own, goddammit!

  Channeling my inner Savi, I respond: It’s “u’re”, u dipshit.

  A smile tugs at my lips when he responds swiftly with a storm of middle finger emojis. I look up to the clear sky and say a silent “thank you”, feeling blessed to have this support around me. I’ve never seen a bunch of people who want to see me and Savi get together more than our family and friends.

  Which is why it had been so easy getting them on board for this.

  Well, relatively easy…

  A month ago

  I jolt out of bed, clutching my chest. Sweat is coating my skin as if I’ve been doused with water and my heart is racing. Motherfucker, what the fuck did I just dream?

  I’d been having a nightmare before I got up that felt all too real. I’d been getting married to someone whose face I hadn’t seen. Just before I said, “I do”, I spotted the back of a purple head as the person fled and had paused mid-declaration. I chased the stranger down to the dunes of the Cape (I hope you’re singing that song now, too), in spite of the shouts and chaos my abandoning my wedding caused, but stopped short.

  The stranger had been Savannah and she was in a beautiful white gown, with her beaming smile turned to some guy who wasn’t me. I was aware that in the dream she was getting married and I reached out in horror to scream that I objected. No sound came out. I tried to get closer, but somehow the sand held me back.

  I fought in my dream, fought tooth and nail to stop what was unraveling in front of me. But I saw when her lips muttered “I do”, felt my heart shatter when whoever this guy was slipped that ring on her finger, and died completely when he kissed his bride…my bride.

  My worst nightmare, for the longest time, has been losing Savannah forever, and I’m not about to let that happen. I have seen what a life without Savi has been, and I’ve had enough of it. This dream has told me one thing: it’s time to make a move, a big one.

  “You better have a good reason to be calling me at ass-crack o’clock,” Grayson mumbles on the line when I call him moments later.

  “I’m gonna marry her,” I blurt out, unable to get my thoughts together.

  “Congratu-fucking-lations,” he says, yawning. “But who the fuck is “her”?”

  “Savi.”

  There’s silence on the other end, and I pull my cell phone away thinking he’s hung up. The screen lights up with the name “Douchebag” across the screen and the call timer still going.

  “Dude,” I call out to him, annoyed by his silence.

  “Sorry, was just wondering if I was dreaming,” he tests, sarcastic as ever. “Took you long enough, Preppy.”

  I roll my eyes. He’s been calling me that name since Junior High.

  “What’s your romantic plan to win her heart?” he asks, a rustling in the background telling me he’s getting out of bed.

  I tell him about the dream and the idea it has sparked. “It’s risky, but if I don’t take matters into my own hands like this, it’ll scare her off.”

  “Dude, while I’m happy you finally got your head out of your ass, I can’t stress how far sideways this kind of deception can go,” Grayson reasons. “What if she says no?”

  “Then we move things up and make sure we get her to the Cape,” I respond, shaking my head against the doubt he’s planting inside of my confidence. “Planning the wedding shit isn’t the important part any way.”

  “What happened to dating her like a normal fucking person? Jesus. How are you even sure she’ll want to be with you after putting her through all of that?” he asks.

  “She’ll love that actually,” I hear Becky agree in the background. I guess he has me on speaker.

  “Becky, go back to bed,” Grayson tells her.

  “No fucking way. I’m invested now,” Becky argues. “Do it, Kyle. She’s impulsive and thinks shit like this is romantic. I’ll help.”

  My heart lifts with hope. I know with Becky on my side, Grayson will have no choice but to be as well; even though I know he’s all for Savi and me being together. He just likes to give me a hard time.

  I tell them about the conversation Savi and I had a few months ago, about her wanting to get married to the person immediately after their engagement.

  “But that’s after courtship, Kyle,” Gray notes. “How are you certain she’ll say yes?”

  “I’m not,” I provide honestly. “But with our history, I can’t not try.”

  “So why not just go to her straight up?” he asks.

  “Because that would give her reason to doubt and run,” Becky answers for me. “And, besides, didn’t she do the same to him?”

  She makes a fair point.

  “Tit for tat, is that it?” he contends.

  “No, Grayson.” I shake my head, knowing it’s not even about her deception with Cam. It’s all about me and her. “But if that’s how you see it, fine. It’s fight versus flight for me,” I argue. “We’ve been fleeing what’s meant to be for years. Running away from a love that found us long ago. It’s time to fight for it, for her, even if I have to fight dirty.”

  “I love it!” Becky sighs dreamily.

  After a long moment, Grayson mutters, “You’ve lost your fucking mind…but I’m in.” Thank God. “Now, let’s see you get everyone else on board.”

  Now

  It proved a little more difficult to win the others, but once I did, we set the plans in motion. My parents wanted me to do things the old-fashioned way and court her, date, get engaged and then get married. Eventually, they agreed to help when I insisted on sticking to my plan. Joy had been on board from the beginning.

  “Goddamn finally,” Mr. Carpenter had exclaimed when I asked him for his daughter’s hand. “Honey, he finally grew some balls!”

  The Carpenters were behind me one hundred percent and within a week, so was everyone else, though they had their own reservations.

  Now, here we are.

  Checking my watch again, I notice that it’s ten minutes after twelve. I refuse to believe that she’d stand me up. She’s probably torturing me. Not that I don’t deserve it.

  “You think she’s still coming?” Mr. Carpenter calls out to me.

  “Yeah, she’ll show,” I answer confidently.

  After twenty more minutes, though, the confidence I spoke with before is gone. I try calling her, as do Grayson and her parents. No answer. I take in all the pitiful stares and shake my head, denial trying to worm its way into my spirit. She wouldn’t do this to me, she wouldn’t bail. Unlike me, she’s not a coward.

  Well, that whole Cam episode was pretty cowardly.

  “Her phone isn’t turned off,” her mother acknowledges. “So at least we know she didn’t hop a flight back to Miami.”

  I chuckle to ease away the nerves;
but just to be sure…

  “You check the airport,” I direct at Grayson and Becky. “You guys try Prism,” I tell her parents. “I’ll go to her place. Everyone else, you can either try doing your own search or you can go home until we find her.”

  “I’ll go back to the house, just in case she feels like hiding out there,” her grandmother suggests.

  “We’ll find her, son,” my dad assures me as he pats me on the back. I stare at him. His eyes are warm and sure as he regards me.

  We’ve come a far way from where we were when I was in high school. The Dad then would’ve dissuaded me; would’ve told me that I had better things to do with my life, that there were other fish in the sea; would’ve made it known how disappointed he was that I was throwing my future away on a girl.

  But this Dad, this changed man – courtesy of a few spoken words from Savi – is staring at me as though he would move heaven and earth for me, if that’s what I wanted, and it’s a gift.

  “Yeah, we will,” I echo with surety. “Even if I have to drag her back by her purple hair, kicking and screaming.”

  “That’s the only way to do it for these stubborn ass Carpenter/Rollings women,” Mr. Carpenter mutters, coming up next to me.

  A chorus goes up from Mrs. Carpenter, Aunt Reggie and Savi’s grandmother at his words. “I resent that!”

  Chuckling, we all make the commitment to call each other once we’ve found her. I set off moments later, determination thrumming through my veins.

  I’m going to find my girl.

  I pull up to her apartment building, noticing her car is already there. Slamming the brakes, I park and jerk out of the vehicle. She has some explaining to do. Her mom had called to tell me that her assistant had told her that she didn’t show up at work today and that they were on their way to meet me here. She’d better be deathly ill.

  Just as I am about to ring Grayson to let them know that I’ve found her, I hear a crash from somewhere in the building. A frisson of unease trickles down my spine, and my legs are moving before I can even think about it.

  “Hey Mr.!” a kid calls out to me. I turn to see a little blonde girl on her bicycle. “You left your door open.”

  “Close it for me, would ya?” I return, smiling.

  “Not on your life, dude,” she sasses before riding away in the opposite direction. “You’re not gonna kidnap me that easily! I’ve seen Dateline NBC!”

  I’d laugh had it not been something serious. Smart kid.

  Turning back to my car, I lock up before running back toward Savi’s building. My very soul calls out to her and my legs pick up speed. I need to make sure she’s okay and isn’t running away, so when I see her coming, I stop in my tracks, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

  Thank God.

  A weight rolls off my shoulders at seeing her. Every bone in my body is telling me to run to her and eat up this distance between us because we’ve been apart for too damn long, but I wait.

  I’ve waited this long. I can wait a few more seconds.

  I feel sucker punched. A breath leaves my mouth and my dick twitches in my tan, slim fit pants. I should probably conceal the fact that I have a hard on, but I’m done hiding how she makes me feel.

  She is closer now. She looks up and I can practically see the relief in her body as she spots me. I’m shifting from foot to foot waiting for the moment that I can see just how beautiful she is, but something is off. Her movements are slow and unbalanced, but she’s determined as she walks to where I am.

  Savannah is wearing one of her famous funky dresses – a purple and yellow knee length dress, the yellow top twisted in some kind of bow – but it’s torn and her hair is a mess. She stumbles as she tries to walk faster and I sprint to her, catching her before she falls. She’s breathing in ragged bursts, groaning as I hold her close. My heart is beating an erratic rhythm, terror rocking my very bones. Savi’s all bruised up, her lip cut open and bleeding.

  The crash I heard…

  “Savi?” I hear a voice question behind me, and I realize her parents are here.

  They’re at my side in seconds. Her mother shoves her husband aside with strength so intense that he has no choice but to stay out of her way. She drops next to us, running her hands over her daughter without touching her.

  “My baby,” she cries, her voice quivering. “What happened?”

  Savi tries to smile but winces as it widens the split in her lip. “If you think I look bad, you should see the other guy,” she jokes, but it falls flat.

  “Baby, talk to me,” I demand softly, my voice catching. “What happened to you?”

  She tries to sit up, but I quiet her, keeping her still. She coughs, holding her mid-section as the force of the action makes her gripe in pain.

  She answers mine and all of our questions, a crowd now surrounding us. The answer she gives has me plotting murder instantly. I don’t hit women, not unless it was while we’re in the doggy style position and her ass is right there for the slapping. My mom raised me to be a gentleman. This time, though, I’m sure she’d forgive me.

  “Claire,” she chokes out. “Claire.”

  Chapter Twenty Nine – Like a Not-So-Cliché Plot Twist

  Savi – Present

  I’VE ONLY EVER had two interactions with Claire, Kyle’s ex-girlfriend. The first was when we met after Kyle’s first game at Duchannes. It was brief and shouldn’t have been anything I remembered. I only did because she had had the distinct pleasure of having something I’ve wanted since I was fifteen years old. I hated her because he chose her; hated her because she was so sweet; hated her because I couldn’t really hate her. I just didn’t have it in me.

  The second time was when she dismissed me when I called Kyle to tell him about Becky. The moment, too, was brief, but I remembered it because it was the moment I figured out how evil she was.

  The Southern belle was a bully. Well, if that wasn’t a cliché, I didn’t know what was.

  Staring at her now, in the living room of my apartment, I should be scared. Let’s be honest, I am, but no way am I letting this bitch get an inkling of that.

  I shouldn’t have come back to my apartment. I am cutting it close as it is. I have fifteen minutes to get back across town and to Cape Aventura where I will fight for Kyle. I’d woken up late this morning. My alarm clock hadn’t gone off at seven like it normally would, which was strange. I have never forgotten to set it, ever. Regardless, I’d had two hours to get myself ready for Kyle, so it had meant that I couldn’t go into the office.

  After putting myself together, I had gone to the coffee shop down the street from me, wanting some liquid focus. I didn’t want to lose my nerve and back out at the last minute. I’d gone up to the cashier and dug into my designer handbag – a splurge for my frugal ass – in search of my purse. It wasn’t there.

  Thankfully, the cashier, Sarah, did me a solid and said she’d let me pay for it another time. Confused, I decided to double back to my apartment. I never take my purse out of my bag unless I was paying for something. So gingerly, I drove back. No purse meant no driver’s license. I wasn’t too keen on getting pulled over and getting slapped with a ticket and my car being impounded.

  I’d parked my car and left my cell phone in it, intending to be in and out in under a minute. Nothing was going to stop me from going to get my guy.

  Not even his cute, albeit psychotic, ex-girlfriend.

  “Holy Schwarzenegger!” I scream, clutching my chest, after that ungodly toot made its way past my butt cheeks.

  Claire, clad in full black with her hair covered in a beanie, smirks evilly at me. “Well, well, I thought you’d never notice yer lil’ purse was missin’.”

  Her Southern accent is thicker than when I last heard it. Her “smile” reflects a nasty snarl and her eyes promise retribution. She waves my black and purple graffiti purse in the air between her gloved fingers. My heart pounds as I silently seethe. It’s obvious she had this all planned out. My only curiosity is how she got in u
ndetected and a smaller curiosity is how she planned on getting away with this.

  “I see the wheels turnin’ in yer ugly purple head,” she purrs, her Southern tone grating on my nerves.

  The clock above her head tells me that it’s ten minutes to noon. At this rate, getting to Kyle is going to take me a little longer than I’d planned. I just hope he is willing to wait for me.

  Like he waited on you to get married to someone else?

  I stifle my conscience, wanting to strangle it as much as I want to strangle this crazy bitch standing in my living room. Reminding myself that I don’t look good in orange or in a jumpsuit, I cross my arms, tapping my foot impatiently as I await her explanation.

  “I’ve been here for a li’l while, bidin’ my time,” she says, prowling in front of me. “I had my plans for you, but when I heard what Kyle had planned for you, I decided to speed things up.”

  “What Kyle has planned for me? What’re you talking about, psycho Barbie?”

  She smirks, not answering my question, but says instead, “Didja like my gift? That spur in yer door?”

  Realization dawns on me then. She’s the one who’s been terrorizing me little by little. The spur in my door, the phone calls, the shattered window I had to fix two weeks ago, the alarm clock this morning…

  “The destroyed aquarium I had to pay for at the Charlton hotel?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  I’d gone there to do a site visit for a wedding I was hired to do eight months ago. There was a whole wall aquarium in the room we were slated to use. I’d noticed a hairline crack but decided to clean the aquarium glass anyway. I really shouldn’t have been there, but it was the fucking Charlton! I had gotten the most expensive hotel in North Carolina for this wedding, even though it was booked up for months. The wedding was in two days and I wanted everything to be perfect.