Bondi Beach (18 page)

"In my mind, I kne
w that, but it really made me feel insecure. Anyway, she was miserable and just wanted to make someone feel as bad as she did."

“I’m so sorry, Martin,” I said, my hand on his leg.

“Thanks. Your turn,” he said, looking at me expectantly.

“
Okay,” I began. “Well, I have several tweaks. I don't like lying or hypocrisy. Or cruelty for that matter. All of those are kind of no-brainers. One of my specialties, however, is that I don’t like unwanted advice.”

“Good to know,” h
e smiled. “What kind of advice?"

"Any kind. I mean, if you think that I don't see a car that's about to run me down, feel free to say something. Otherwise, you might want to keep it to yourself.
” A smile crossed his face. “Working on it."

"Noted. I don't quite understand that one, but I have a feeling I will sometime down the road," he
smiled.

I said,
“It's just too much like somebody telling me what to do. Don't get me wrong – I’ve worked for a lot of people, and I can take direction very well. But when it comes to someone telling me how to live my life or what decisions to make, it comes across as condescending to me. Even if it's advice given with the best of intentions.”

I thought for a moment. "You know, there is something else. I think it's probably pretty normal, but I feel like I've become less trusting as I've gotten older. I've met a lot of people who are my age or
older who are really bitter and jaded. Maybe they've been through a terrible divorce or problems at work, and they're never going to trust anyone again. They feel like it’s naïve to trust. I remember when we first got together, that rational part of my mind kept asking me if I could really trust that this was real or that it would last. I guess it's just self-protection, but it can really get in my way. I think I have to be careful to make sure that I don't go down that road.” I paused. “Okay, your turn.”

Martin nodded
. "I can't stand injustice… or abuse."

The waiter brought our meals and reorganized the table a little bit. Martin and I waited for him to finish before resuming our discussion.

"Do you want to talk about that last one?"

“No. Not now." He looked up at me. "But I think you know what it's about."

I nodded. “I think so." We ate our dinner mostly in silence.

*****

When we returned to the house later that evening, Martin and I went up to the master bedroom and got ready for bed. After I put my nightgown on, I saw him standing out on the balcony. I wrapped myself in a blanket and went out to join him. He moved me in front of him and wrapped both arms around me so that he could keep my back warm. The wind had abated, and the stars were out. It was a chilly, beautiful night.

I turned around to face him. "Are you okay?"

His eyes looked into me deeply. “I have never been with someone who loves me as much as you do.” He slid his arm around my waist. "Last night, I think I was afraid that I wasn't good enough for you because of some of the things that I've been through. I feel like I failed in some areas of my life like my marriage.” He was quiet for a moment. "Then, you come along, and I'm convinced that you're supposed to be my wife. You had a good marriage, and you already built a successful relationship. I feel like you should be the one leading, and I should be following."

I closed my eyes and felt
the heat radiate from his body as I stood in front of him. "Martin, one of the things that I love most about you is your enthusiasm and your clarity of purpose. When I was feeling doubtful, you weren’t. I found confidence in your confidence and your enthusiasm. That helped to give me faith in our relationship. Those qualities are why I felt I could trust you in the first place when I came to stay with you. You’re warm and loving, and you have this marvelous ability to look forward and believe in a future together. That’s given me strength and made me feel like we can do anything together.”

I continued,
“When I was talking earlier this evening about being afraid of losing my trust because I'm trying to protect myself, that's exactly what I was talking about. You'll throw your cares to the wind simply because you have faith that this is going to work between us. I admire you for that. It also gives me strength. Plus, I don't believe you when you tell me that you don't know how to do a relationship. I think Melanie didn't know how to do a relationship. From what I can tell, you gave everything, and she took. Being that you're so protective of others, I can understand why you would have been attracted to someone who is as needy as she was.” Martin nodded. “But I don't think that you would ever do it again.”

"So,
” I said, “please don't ever tell me you don't know how to do a relationship. You do. It's easy. You love and you love and you love. You forgive yourself and your partner. You bend to one another. You respect one another. You do your best to not be cross with one another because, once you say something, you can never take it back. You already do all of these things.”

Pulling me closer,
Martin whispered, “Thank you.” After a moment, he said, “Come on. It’s getting cold, and I know we’re both tired.” He led me by the hand back inside the bedroom and closed the door behind us.

We took off our clothes and crawled under the covers in the master bedroom
. I felt the heat radiate off his body and was warmed quickly. “That feels better,” I told him. “Thank you.”

The moonlight shone through the window, and I watched Martin as he lay on his back and sorted through whatever was on his mind. "When I was
a kid,” he began, “I was about nine years old when my father died of a heart attack. A friend of the family, a man named David Haynes, had been widowed for a few years already. After a year, he began dating my mother. She was struggling with two kids and married David when I was eleven. The first few months, things were fine. Then, he started drinking. He'd been doing it before but had hidden it from us. It wasn't long before he would come home drunk and start fights with my mother. She learned that it was best to just try to stay out of his way. But, on a few occasions, he hit her. We were all terrified of him. She tried to leave him once, but he found out where she was staying and harassed the friends that we were staying with until she finally went home with him. It got really bad after that – more emotionally with my mom and Janine and more physically with me. He didn't stop until I was 15.”

“What made him stop?"

“I did." Martin looked over to gauge my reaction before continuing. "One night, he came home and asked my mother where dinner was. She said that we'd eaten hours before. It was nearly midnight." Martin sighed. "Anyway, when my mother suggested that David might come home earlier if he wanted to have dinner with the family, he was furious and picked a vase up off the table and was threatening her with it. I came up behind him and grabbed it out of his hand and hit him over the head with it. He was out cold. My mother didn't know what to do – she didn't want to get me in trouble – but she knew that he would come after us if she didn't do something. So, she called the police, and they came to the house. Everyone knew about my stepfather by then anyway. They also knew that he and I’d had a couple of fights when he would go after my mother or come after me or Janine. She told them that I had tried to defend her when David had threatened her. David ended up going to the hospital for stitches, but my mother didn’t want to press charges against him. She didn’t want to keep him in our lives any longer than necessary. We left Brisbane when I was 15 and came to Sydney to live with an aunt.”

"What
happened to David?"

"
He made a lot of threats but never really seemed to look hard for my mother. He was drinking too much by then. He died a few years later. Then, Mom and Janine moved back to the house in Brisbane. I was in college by then so I just stayed in Sydney."

I lay on my side while I stroked Martin's arm. "I am so sorry that you
went through all of that."

"It's okay. It made us all stronger.”

"Sometimes, I think that we’re all strong enough."

He rolled over toward me, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me on the lips
. “I think we should try to get some sleep."

"Okay. But if you can't sleep and you
need to talk, just wake me." Soon, I drifted off to sleep dreaming of windy seas, the beach, playing in the water, and Martin as a boy trying to defend his family. I awoke a few times and looked over at him to see if he was alright, but he was sound asleep.

Chapter 34

APRIL 5

The sun streamed through the windows the next morning and woke us up. I stretched and opened my eyes to see Martin watching me. He smiled, and I rolled over into his arms and fell back to sleep.

A while later, we awakened, showered, packed our things, and stripped the beds
. Then, we loaded our bags in the car and made one final visit to the beach. It was still a little chilly that morning so we sat at an indoor café drinking coffee and looking out the plate glass windows toward the ocean.

Martin reached his hand across the table to hold mine
. "I'm sorry that we've had so many serious conversations since we've been here."

"I'm not
,” I told him. “If we just had fun with one another all the time, I’d be worried. This is just part of getting to know one another. We need to know one another’s histories."

He nodded. "I know you're right.
I just feel bad about it. I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you right at bedtime last night."

"You know, Martin, the fact that we can even talk about this says a lot
. This is some painful stuff we’re dredging up, but it's important. These are things that have helped to shape us and make us who we are today. We need to know these things about one another."

He
held my hand. "You're right.” He looked down and smiled.

"What?"

Glancing up at me, he said, "I don’t think I ever told you that the malaria medication can cause depression."

“Now you tell me,”
I said, looking into his beautiful eyes. “And I thought you just wanted to have some honest and meaningful conversations about our relationship."

He chuckled, and I grinned at him.

We finished our coffee and started our long drive back toward the mountains. I felt bad for Martin that we were leaving the beach behind. The water seemed to stir up a lot of memories in him, and I had a feeling that it was just the beginning. Given that he’d been sick, I wasn’t surprised that his insecurities had come up. We were, after all, still getting to know each other.

*****

On the drive back home, I began to think about what a different place I was in than where I’d been just a few years ago, even a few months ago. Before my father and Jack had gotten sick, I'd been so focused on my career and marriage that I felt like I was always running to keep up. I was happy, but there was so much to do. When my father got sick, and, then, Jack, my world became much smaller. I let a lot of my work go so that I could focus solely on caring for the people whom I loved. I quickly realized that I couldn’t get a lot of work done when I was focused on making lunch, changing bedding, doing the laundry, paying bills, and hassling with insurance companies. I had become consumed with the job of caregiving, and there was very little time left for myself.

Before all of that happened,
I'd always felt like I had a clear purpose in life. After Jack passed and I had grieved for some time, I had felt lost. I had no idea what I was supposed to do anymore. I'd been so focused on taking care of another person that I had no idea what
I
needed. What I wanted had become inconsequential in the face of so many demands that I had let the dreamer in myself go.

One of the main reasons I had wanted to go to Australia was that I was ready to turn my life on its head and start over again. What better place to reconsider my life’s direction than on the other side of the world?
I smiled.
The underside of the world.

And here, just when I felt that I had a fresh start and I could begin to
reimagine my life, I met a man who believed that I was part of his destiny because he had dreamed about me twenty-one years ago. Aside from the questions that it raised about free will, predestination, or an interesting combination of both, I was fascinated and heartened by this turn of events. I mean, here I had gone to Australia not knowing anyone, and it was there that I found a friend who had first seen me two decades before.

Martin reached over and put his hand on mine. "
What’s on your mind?"

I shook my head. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"The middle usually works great," he said with a smile.

I had to laugh
.

“What?” he began laughing, too
. “What’s so funny?”

"I was just thinking about my life."

"That's a pretty big topic. Anything in particular?"

"Yeah. Kind of. I was thinking about what I was looking for when I left the
States and came to Australia."

He chuckled to himself. "What was that?"

"Why are you laughing?"

“Because I'm sure you didn't come to Australia to get hit by a surfboard."

"Okay," I said, reaching under his arm to tickle him.

"
Hey!" A big grin stretched across his face.

"No, I was just thinking that I'd gone far away from home so that I could figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I'd become so focused on taking care of other people that I really need
ed to get to know myself again. It was almost like living in a rushing river for years and, then, you find yourself in the open ocean. Suddenly, I had lots of time on my hands, I was tired of grieving, and I just wanted to start over... but I had no idea what I was going to do."

"And now?"

I laughed. "I still have no idea what I'm going to do."

He reached over and rubbed my leg
. "Does it bother you? Having so many things up in the air? "

"No. I kind of put my life on hold for
a number of years because I was taking care of other people. Now, it’s starting to come together. My life still feels like it's a little bit uncertain only because I don't know what the next step is.” I glanced at him then back at the road. "I mean, I'd always done work that I loved but, now, I'm not as excited about it as I used to be. Maybe I need a change."

"Is that
what your art class is about… and the outdoors club?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He laid his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. Sun streamed into the car, and, as we drove through the North Carolina piedmont, I noticed new leaves unfurling on trees in their beautiful spring greens. I don't think I'll ever forget the image of Martin with his eyes closed and the sun on his face with the trees blurred in the background as we drove past.

“If you could do anything, what would it be?"
Martin asked.

I replied,
"That's where I get stuck. I have so many interests and just don't know what I want to do for a living."

Looking over at me, he asked,
"What do you love to do the most? What could you start working on in the morning and be so passionate about that you'd still be doing it at midnight and not ready to quit?"

I smiled.
"It's a great question. I’ve actually thought about that a lot. I used to love what I did, but it would require me to visit clients and travel a lot. It would be more difficult to do if we’re back and forth between the U.S. and Australia.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded. “I think so. I mean, it would be nice if I could do my work from anywhere. When you’re working with clients, sometimes, you just need to be on site with them.”

“So,” he began, “what are you thinking about?”

“Something creative maybe.” I paused. “I don’t know.” Then, I motioned to Martin. “What about you? You haven't exactly said it, but I can tell that you're burned out at work. Wouldn’t you rather be doing something else?"

He looked out the window and back
at me. “Yeah. I would. I’ve been at this for about thirteen years. As meaningful as the work is, there are too many politics. I'm ready for a change.”

"Do you know
what you want to do?"

“Yeah.”
A broad smile crossed his face. "A want to be a SCUBA and surf instructor."

I smiled. "Are y
ou serious?"

He
shrugged. “It’s what I love to do.”

“
Then, do it!"

"It's not that easy," he
laughed.

"
What do you mean it's not that easy? I know you surf. You already dive don't you?"

“Yeah.”

“So, why not do it for a living?"

He turned to face me. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying t
o solidify a relationship with the woman that I love. It's a long-distance relationship. We’re talking about going back and forth between Sydney and Charlotte. I haven't seen much of the area, but I don't think there's much good surfing or diving up on your hill."

"Well," I was still laughing
, "can't you teach it half the year, when you’re in Sydney?"

He smiled. "Maybe." Then, he shook his head. "Why are we talking about me
? You're the one who's trying to figure out what she wants to do."

“It sounds like you need a change, too.”
I reached over and patted his knee. "I just want you to be happy."

*****

"What is it that keeps couples together?" the host of a popular evening talk show asked Edem Smith. Ms. Smith was one of those relationship counselors who are always being interviewed on talk shows. She’d just written a new book called
Variety for Hum Drum Couples.
I'd turned on the TV for a few minutes while Martin was in the shower.

"Variety,
" she answered.

“We have that,” I muttered.

"Can you tell us what you mean?" the host asked.

"
Couples come together for many different reasons – chemistry, great sex, similar values. But what
keeps
them together is variety. Unless they find a way to spice up their relationship in the early stages, couples will invariably become bored with each other. That's usually when infidelity starts. Ladies, if you're not out challenging yourselves and learning new things, your husband will start looking for someone who does."

"What
are you watching?" asked Martin as he entered the room and toweled off his hair.

"A relationship counselor,
" I answered, and he sat down beside me.

"Your man will leave if you
don’t keep things interesting enough. And believe me, there are plenty of career women out there who will find ways to keep him interested if you don't.” Martin shook his head. “Long gone are the days of the man who declares his love for you. He’ll stick around only if you do something to keep him there."

“What a crock
….” He looked at me then reached for the remote control and turned off the TV. “Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath and let it out then looked over at him
. “I hope I don’t bore you.”

His brows furrowed
. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I have no idea where I’m going right now.”

“Do you mean us?” he asked.

“No,” I shook my head
. “I mean my entire life. I don’t know what’s coming next. I don’t know what I should be doing. I feel like I’m behind.”

He
turned to face me and took my hands in his. “Behind what?”

“Where I’m supposed to be.”

His eyes closed. “According to whom?”

I shook my head again
. “You don’t understand.”

Still holding my hands, h
e sighed and looked down for a moment. Then, he looked back up at me, stood up, and pulled me up into his arms and held me against him. “What’s really bothering you?” he whispered.

“I don’t know.
” I closed my eyes. “I think I’m afraid of you leaving.”

“I thought we agreed that we’
re going to make this work.”

I could only nod
.

“
Eva, I’ll never leave you.” He pulled back a little and lifted my chin so that he could look into my eyes. “I’m not leaving.”

“You’ll leave when you
go back to Sydney. Then, I’ll come visit you. Then, I’ll have to leave.”

He shook his head
. “I’m trying to understand.”

I sighed. “I’m just so tired.”

He pulled me close to him. “Is this about loss?”

That made sense.
Whatever it was felt deeply familiar. I nodded. “I think so. And feeling lost at the same time.”

“Come on,” he said,
taking my hand in his. “I think I know what’ll make you feel better.”

We walked down the hallway toward the master bedroom and into the bathroom
. He went over to the tub and started a warm bath. He looked through the nearby basket of bubble baths and, choosing mango, poured some into the tub. I sat on the toilet lid and watched him so caringly fill the tub and find a towel, bath sponge, and chair, which he set beside the tub.