In This Life (2 page)

He winked at me while drying his hands before strutting to his bedroom. He was a beautiful man, with dark brown hair cut close to his head, deep-set green eyes that smiled wider than his mouth. They were framed by dense eyelashes and lighter brows that wiggled when he stressed a point. His nose was perfect for his face, a little crooked but angled just right. His thin, pouty lips were in perfect harmony with that sexy five o’clock shadow. He carried himself with so much confidence: pushy, organized and methodical. But he had such a joie de vivre and did everything with vigor. Dante loved to work out, and it showed. His arms, his chest, his abs—everything about him was sculpted to perfection. Just like the way he lived his life.

In the middle of the house was a patio filled with colorful orchids and tropical plants. As I cut across the indoor garden, winding my way through the U-shaped corridor towards my room, I called to him. “How much time do I have? I was hoping to at least wash up and catch a quick nap.”

He stuck his head out of the door as I walked past it. “Few minutes, Spark. Get on it.”

I pushed his finger away from my face. “Chill! I’ll be right there.”

He huffed impatiently as he followed right behind, gently directing me towards my bedroom with both hands firm on my shoulders. “This from the girl who showed up an hour late to her own graduation party?”

I dug my heels in to protest his attempts to push me along. “You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” I turned towards the dresser and struggled to pull open the top drawer, which had been jammed to the hilt with clothing.

And then it hit me. My life was perfect then. Those were the easy days, before my life spiraled out of control. Dante noticed the sudden twitch of my head and quietly reached for my hand as I began nervously ruffling through my things.

“Spark, are you okay? Did I say something?”

“Of course not,” I responded shakily.
I’m here to forget. Don’t let me lose sight of that.

“Have you spoken to her since we arrived?” he asked quietly.

“Nope.” I answered, my voice breaking.

“You know you’re going to have to do it eventually, right?”

“I texted. That’s enough for now.” I yanked out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts and threw them on the bed. “Give me fifteen minutes and I promise I won’t be late.”

WE SAT ON
the powdery sand as the sun was setting, lulled by the sound of crackling wood from a bonfire by the shore. I reached out to take a joint from Delmar Davignon, the guy from France. His weed was strong. I felt lightheaded and frisky. Sexy. Ready to forget.

“Do you like it, Anna?” he asked. His accent alone was an aphrodisiac. Long and drawn out, with a focus on his vowels and an exaggerated take on consonants.

“Good stuff,” I said, putting it to my lips for a third time.

“
Zut alors
, sexy girl, I am wishing my dick was that joint right now.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” I laughed, unfazed. I had never been one to shy away from overt advances.

Out of the blue, Dante muttered under his breath, “Oh, I’m sure he doesn’t.”

I scooted my body over, away from Delmar and closer to Dante in attempt to conduct this upcoming argument in private. “What?” I asked, without masking my irritation. “He doesn’t what?”

“Say that to all the girls,” he answered through lips pressed tight. “Come on, Spark. Don’t be naïve.”
Yes, I remember. You’ve told me that countless times. The dangerous red hair and blue green eyes. Contrasted with the pale angelic skin, it was beguiling to some.
This was just a routine exchange between two old friends. Everything about this was normal, even the way his eyes lingered on my face long enough for me to feel his tacit affection.

“Don’t worry, once he finds out how crazy I am, he’ll be running in the other direction,” I laughed.

“You’re a walking contradiction. For some reason, dudes are into that kind of thing,” he teased. He was just looking out for me, so I decided to let it go. I tapped my hand over his before pulling away and moving back towards Delmar. I was lost in the sound of the crashing waves. Every time they rolled in towards the shore, I felt the ground shift underneath my feet.

Nothing about this place was recognizable. The warm air, the tall palm trees and discarded coconut husks, and the silvery crabs slithering in and out with the tide reminded me that I was far away from home. I began to imagine the different scenarios that would have brought these people to the mission—who they were and what they had left behind. Paulina, one of the Russian twins, was tracing the outline of the King Kong tattoo on Dante’s arm. He chuckled as she whispered something funny in his ear. Kingston Preston, that guy from England, was in deep conversation with the other Russian girl, Milena. I tried to listen as they rattled on about nothing. Shallow conversation—I was bored to tears.

“American girl. Would you like a beer?” Kingston said as he stood up to walk towards the cooler. He was tall and lanky, his dishwater blond hair swept neatly over his sunburned face. His teeth weren’t bad. Next to the cooler was a bag filled with sports equipment—a volleyball, badminton rackets, Frisbees and a soccer ball. It didn’t seem like anyone wanted to get physically active that night. At least not in that sense.

I grinned at Dante just as he caught my eye, and he flashed me a smile back. “The lady doesn’t drink beer,” he said with authority. “It’s a good thing I brought her my stash for the trip.” He pulled out a bottle of red wine from his backpack and offered it to me.

The wine was full-bodied and dry, just the way I liked it. With an empty stomach, and some strong pot, I was feeling quite content.

Delmar leaned in, brushed his lips behind my ear, and continued to tell me what he thought we should be doing instead of sitting around the fire. I let out a whoop of laugher. This guy was pretty cute. Though not my type with the blond hair and blue eyes, the fitted jeans and pretty Hermés belt.

Dante moved away from Paulina to listen in on our conversation. His eyes darted back and forth as he observed our ongoing flirtation.

“Anna!” he finally interrupted.

“What?” I asked, offering him a swig of the wine, which he completely ignored.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He stood up and tipped his head towards the shore, signaling for me to follow him. I struggled to gain my balance, leaving the group by the bonfire. The farther we walked, the darker it got. Teeny tiny sparks of light shot up from the burning wood onto the open sky.
The birth of the stars.

“What’s up?” I asked, swaying and trying desperately to focus on his face. We stood in the shadowy darkness, the rumble of the waves more distinct as they washed up along the shore.

“I think you’ve had enough,” he scolded, both hands on his waist.

“Enough what? Jesus, Tey, it’s a weekend. I’m just trying to relax a little bit. You know how difficult that past month has been.”

He smiled in resignation. “Spark, you’re here to take a break from that shitstorm we left back home. That’s why we came all the way here. Don’t complicate it by doing things out of spite that you might regret. Remember, we’re leaving in a couple of weeks and going back to life at home.”

“Okay, boss,” I said with a tinge of sarcasm.

“You also survived four years of college without a single hangover. Don’t start now,” he cautioned, eyes still tight and squinted.

“Dude! Relax. I’m just having fun. I wo—”

The buzzing sound rudely interrupted my oncoming tirade. I slipped the phone out of my jeans pocket and glanced at the screen “I have to take this. It’s my dad,” I said, walking away from him in the opposite direction.

“Spark.” He took a step towards me, hesitated and then slowly turned around.

I took a deep breath. “Hi, Dad.”

“Annie, I tried to call you earlier.” I could hardly hear him over the waves.

“Oh, I must have still been outside with the kids. Dad, why is your voice so muffled? Are you all right?”

“Anna. Your mom collapsed at work yesterday from a severe headache. Aneurysms, they said. Close to bursting. She’s going in to surgery and has been calling, asking for you, frantically trying to reach you. You need to call her, please. Come home and make it right with her.”

I felt ill all of a sudden, my heart plummeting down to my feet, but maintained my composure, closing my eyes and willing my mouth to stay shut while a barrage of thoughts flooded my mind.
Think, Anna, think. There haven’t been any previous diagnoses. She’s been healthy until now. If found early, they could relieve the pressure and prevent any kind of rupture. Right. Yes, they can certainly nip it in the bud.

I couldn’t give in to worry. Giving in would defeat the purpose of being here. I’d be home in two weeks, and then we could get this all sorted out.

“Annie? Are you there?”

I opened my eyes and looked far out into the water. “I’m here. I’m sorry to hear that, Dad.”

“I think you have to cut your trip short and fly back. We need to figure things out, as a family. Whatever your feelings are about her, about what happened—let’s work it out together.”

“No.” I choked out that one lousy syllable. Yes to my studies. Yes to my future. Yes to my priorities. Today was a good day to say “no.”

“No? Annie, she’s your mother. She doesn’t deserve such hatred.”

“I don’t believe her, Dad. She’s a liar and a drama queen. She’s done this to us—to you, numerous times. Played on our emotions to justify her actions. How do you know she’s not just doing this to get you back?”

“She’s sick. I’ve spoken to the doctors. She’s in the hospital, and I don’t know when she’ll be getting out.”

“People with aneurysms live a long time. She should get better.” She was heartless and cold when she left us. I am her daughter after all.

“Annie. Listen to me.”

I paced back and forth, stepping in and out of the water, preoccupied by the way my feet sank into the ground like it was quicksand.

“No, Dad! You listen to me!” I shouted. “She walked out on us two months ago! She has no right to expect anything from me, from us! Why does she think she can pull this crap and have us running back to her with forgiveness?” I was irate about having to repeat myself again.

“She spent twenty-four years of her life taking care of us! She’s your mother.” He raised his voice and spoke with authority. “You need to come home.”

“She should have thought about that before she screwed around and fucked up our home. I’m here because of her. I’m not coming back. Tell her I’ll pray for her, and maybe, if I’m not as angry as I am now, I’ll visit her when I get there. And if I were you, I wouldn’t give in to her guilt trips. Have some respect for yourself.” I shook uncontrollably, reminded of the betrayal by the one I loved the most. She was my hero, the kind of woman I wanted to become. We did everything together, shared every moment of our lives until two months ago. I never imagined that she had another life.
Secrets ruin lives. And lies are born simply to protect them.

“She has her boy toy to take care of her now. Goodbye, Dad. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

I slammed my phone shut and flung it far out into the darkness, into the ocean.
Let it drown beneath the waves. A symbol of an old life gone forever. Do you know what else needs to be shredded by the force of that water? This heartache.

With my face in my hands, I leaned back until I was lying flat on the sand, ocean water lapping around my ears, my shoulders, my body. I tried to convince myself that I was filled with hatred for her, when in fact, I was hit with a longing that made me cry out. I closed my eyes, remembering the day I saw her at a restaurant on Broadway when she was supposed to be away on business. I approached her excitedly from behind, certain that this was her new editor, surely the one who called at all hours of the day with wonderful ideas about her latest article. I watched in horror as he took her hand and kissed it, and she smiled back at him, her lips parted and inviting. I clung to the chair in front of me, gasping for breath, trying to keep myself from fainting. And yet, I couldn’t train my eyes off them. I’d never seen her look so happy, so young and carefree. He slid himself into the booth to sit next to her, his paws all over her like a dog in heat. I stepped forward directly into her field of vision and waited for the look of recognition on her face. Suddenly she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him out of the way.

“Annie!” she screamed as she frantically ran out of the restaurant to chase after me. “Please, Annie! Let me explain!”

I stormed down the street, ignoring her pleas as she raced behind me. Her empty words meant nothing to me. When she caught up and tried to grab my shoulder, I smacked her arm so hard that her watch fell off. “Leave me alone, Mother. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Anna, please. I haven’t been happy for so long. Please. Let’s go somewhere and talk. I want to be able to explain what happened.”

I glared at her while holding my hands up to stop her from coming any closer. “Whatever your reasons are, save them. You lied to me and Dad. How could you? Michael is only thirteen!”