Skin Like Dawn (36 page)

What made sense anymore? Who was right? Who was wrong? What did knowing feel like? 

She got out to a sidewalk, waterside. People appeared happy as she walked past them. Brandon called her name sharply, discreetly. In only a few seconds, he’d catch up with her, like he always did, beg for forgiveness, stomp his feet like an insolent child, then find his way back to her again. The thought of the impending course of actions made her sick. She took a deep breath.  

The sky was almost completely black now, the sound of the waves nearby.  She thought of how perfect this trip could’ve been if they hadn’t brought everything with them. 

Had they ever been capable of leaving everything behind?

She got to the sand and kicked off her shoes angrily as the tears started the flow. She walked just before the water and stopped, holding herself.  

She sensed him standing behind her and she turned around. He looked pitiful, ashamed. She didn’t care.  “I don’t know what else to do.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t...this isn’t...” 

“Say it, baby.” 

“You’re so...you’re so...” 

“Fucking say it!”

“You’re so suffocating. I can’t breathe anymore. I can’t! We don’t make sense anymore. We just don’t. Something isn’t working. Can’t you feel it?” 

“What happened to the woman I married? What happened to her?” 

She crumbled into tears, knees buckling.  “She’s the woman you never should have married. But you did anyway. And now you’re stuck with this. Stuck with me.” 

“Where is this even coming from? What’s changed? Who are you?” 

She couldn’t tell him.  Too revelatory, right?  All truths to the light didn’t seem to settle very well with her right now.  

She watched him began to walk away, and some sort of panic set in.  But she couldn’t understand the sensation. It was an aching or a loss of some sort; an emptiness, exacerbated by years of what they’d built together. He wasn’t the stranger that she’d made him out to be; but a piece of her, rather.  A big piece.  The part that made her feel like herself.  

He picked up his speed. She knew that the end tarried there with them. The end. More tears erupted, clouding her vision, and she couldn’t speak. She parted her lips to call out his name but nothing...nothing.  

The end, she figured.  They’d both had enough. 

She lunged out at him, gasping for air.  This was it. The end. 

She grabbed at her Brandon Greene, whimpering, and he flung his arm back, jostling her away with just enough force, that she fell on her belly with the entire weight of her body bearing down on it.  

Struck with immediate remorse, he attempted to swivel around and catch her, but he was too late. 

Too late. 

FLIGHT

AT FIRST, IT FELT LIKE A TINGLING. Then, a little aching in her stomach.  Then, emptiness.  A giant hole right through her, rather. And silence.  Unbending silence. She could hear echoes in her head, haloing voices, and buzzing sounds.  She was back in the water, again, no older than ten, wading gracefully, gazing skyward and smiling.  She focused on that for awhile.  It seemed easier. 

But someone was yelling her name, begging her to come to. She refused to do it.  She refused to give in. 

Then, she saw her papa in her head.  He was smiling at her, hand extended toward hers, inviting her up with him, in the light somewhere.  She’d be safe, he said.  He’d look after her.  The way he’d always looked after her.

Someone yelled at her again. She felt dizzy. Then, the pain came again. A little less dull this time. Sharper. More acute. She screamed. It felt good to scream. She felt alive when she let it all go.

“Tallie! Wake up, baby. I’m here, baby, I’m here.” 

Once upon a time, she’d fallen in love with a voice very similar to that one. It melted in her ears. Made her feel like she belonged to it. She’d fallen victim to it more than she like to admit. Goddamnit. 

“Tallie!” 

“Mr. Greene, you’re going to have to let us do our job. She’ll be fine.” 

Natalie’s eyes whittled open. She caught a glimpse of her husband’s face, then closed her eyes again. 

“Tallie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, baby!” 

Baby. Where’s the baby? Harper. Harper, is the baby’s name. Harper Marie Greene.

Then, everything went dark again. 

ASHA 

GUILT.  She felt nothing but guilt. For years, she’d buried her nose in the affairs of the ridiculously handsome Brandon Greene and his obsession Natalie Chandler, to the point where she couldn’t see straight.  And what exactly did it bring her?  Nothing that she could call her own.   She’d spent a good number of months focusing on other things. With her friends clear across the country, married, pregnant and so on, she had time to get her shit together: starting with her fucked up relationship with Scotland Lee Kelly. Dear God, she loved him. Even from the beginning. Their chemistry far surpassed anything she ever realized she could feel for another human being.  And it only grew with time. Once she actually admitted her feelings toward him, the rest seemed easy. No longer did she have to worry about playing the field or talking shit just to get a rise out of men; she could go home to the same man each night, content, in love, and well-fucked.  She and Scotty were easy once everything came to the light. She couldn’t see herself wanting anyone else. 

But now she was thrust back into everything. In a cold ass hospital lobby in California, no less. Sitting crossed legged, looking up at Scotty pacing to and fro, she selfishly thought of a number of ways she could’ve spent the six hundred dollars round trip ticket to San Jose. Then, she immediately recanted her thoughts, realizing that they were nothing more than the archaic manifestation of her jealousy toward Natalie Chandler. 

Yes, jealousy. 

She could send her mind through all of the repressed issues she had toward her, but she needn’t bother.  Natalie needed her right now. Brandon needed her more. She and Scotty were there for a reason.

“What the hell’s taking so long? And where is Brandon?” Scotty stopped just long enough to look at her, drop his arms at his sides and push his eyes outward like a bug. 

“Scotland, come sit down, baby. Your pacing isn’t helping matters.” 

“I can’t, Ash. Our best friend is in a hospital bed. Why aren’t you more concerned.”

“You don’t think I’m concerned?” Maybe the lack of sleep sucked all of the consideration out of her face. Maybe she should try harder to show that she gave a damn. 

“I don’t know.  You’ve been acting weird since we got here.” 

“I’m fine. Why do you go get some coffee and I’ll go try to find Brandon? I’ll be back.” 

Scotty didn’t respond. In all honesty, she hadn’t seen Brandon Greene since he had he was running to his car to grab a phone charger.  That was almost an hour ago.  Perhaps he didn’t want to admit what was happening to his wife, or what his two best friends had flown all the way across the country for. 

This was the end. Of something. 

Asha pondered this as she sauntered down a quiet corridor in the obstetrics wing. 

“I wanted to come here to deliver our baby,” Brandon’d said over the phone.  “Not this soon. Not for this. Not now.” 

That thought alone made her ache. 

And she was just reaching into her pocket for her cell phone to dial him again when someone caught her eye. Someone that looked familiar. She wrinkled her nose in his direction, squinting her eyes for a better view.  Then, she parted her lips, momentarily speechless, as the audacity of such a visitor seemed otherworldly.  “Bellamy?” 

BRANDON

“I’M SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS, MR. GREENE.” 

What exactly did that mean? And how was he supposed to feel?  And what about Natalie? His wife? How was she supposed to feel? 

“We did everything we could to try and save the baby. But your wife lost a lot of blood. We had to do what was necessary.”

What was necessary.  He pondered this for awhile, sitting at his wife’s bedside, watching her sleep.  The doctor’s had given her something to manage the pain, sedate her a little.  All the while, he was trying to come up with ways to apologize...or show remorse without crumbling completely.  How in the hell could they recover from this? What could they say to one another to make everything okay again? 

He sloppily wiped a couple of tears away. Natalie stirred softly. She didn’t know yet, and he’d have to be the one to tell her. How could he bring himself to say something like that to her? He’d start by explaining how he’d been feeling the past few weeks: abandoned, angry, disillusioned, suspicious.  

Something was different about his wife.  She wasn’t the same Natalie Chandler who’d given him the ride of his life.  

Something was different.  And now it was all gone. Every little bit of it. Everything they’d built. 

Another tear slid down his cheek, and he enveloped himself in the tragedy of it all.  Their lives could’ve taken a different path - somewhere along the lines.  Separately, maybe. 

But they crossed somewhere, interwoven almost perfectly, seamlessly, faultlessly.  And his obsession grew much bigger than he had the will to control.  

He formulated the words in his head. And he made a vow to stand by his wife and his marriage no matter what. 

He was a fighter, goddamnit. And he was in love. Still. Every fucking ounce of him. 

Natalie stirred a little more, then she whimpered something.  “B...B...B...” 

He got to his feet, looming over her bed, reaching for her hand, watching her eyes open slowly.  “I’m here,” he said. “I’m here, Tallie.” 

She squeezed his hand a little, gazing up at him vacantly.  “Hey, you.” 

Another tear escaped his eye. “Hey, baby.” 

Visibly swallowing, she cleared her throat and muttered, “You remembered that time I showed up at your twenty-first birthday party? I had no idea who you were.”

“Yea, I remember, baby.” 

“You remember hitting me over the head with a beer bottle?” 

He nodded, sniffling. “Of course I remember, Tal.” 

“Don’t cry, Brandy, I’m fine.” 

“Natalie...”

“I woke up that night and I saw your face. Your eyes. And I fell in love with you, Brandy. Did you know that?” 

He shook his head, dumbfounded by her weakened elegance.  “No, I didn’t, actually.” 

She nodded meekly.  “Mmm-hmm. That was the best day of my life, Brandon David Greene. And you never knew.” 

NATALIE

IT ERUPTED OUT OF HER, the moment she set foot in their house in Portland. She even dropped to her knees, grasping at her belly to quell the emptiness.  

Brandon grabbed at her as she howled and they both fell to the floor together. Reduced to a ball of entwined limbs and such, he held her there on the floor and rocked her back and forth, tightening around her, as the shrill of her mournful shrieks filled the quiet house. 

She tried to wrap her mind around her husband’s words in the hospital. 

“I wanted to be the one to tell you,” he’d said. “When you fell...you ruptured something...and the baby...it was a girl...our little girl...you...you lost a lot of blood...and the baby’s oxygen...I’m so sorry, Natalie...for all of it...I’m hurting, too...it just wasn’t meant to be.” 

Wasn’t meant to be? 

She carved out a cavern in her brain as her husband held her there on the floor, and crawled into it quietly.  She would succumb to the distance again, embrace the vacancy, and try not to feel. She didn’t want to blame anything on anyone; they’d both done their dirt.  And the tragedy of it all was that the death meant something so much more - she simply couldn’t bring herself to verbalize the words in the bounty of her tears.  Shamelessly enough, she’d never really accepted her pregnancy.  Sure, she looked in the mirror every morning and witnessed her protruding belly. Sure, she felt the baby kick ever so gently with anticipation of emancipation.  Sure, she attended every doctor appointment, lamaze class and so on. 

But...what conclusion was she trying to draw? 

The illusion of the baby’s arrival miraculously saving her and her marriage had shattered with the strong flick of Brandon’s arm rejecting her affection.  

What the hell did that mean?  

One day, she imagined seeing Brandon’s eyes slapped on Harper Marie’s face and realize her purpose all along.  

But it was all gone now.  Gone.  

“We’ll make it through, baby,” Brandon whispered against her face. He was crying harder now. Soft, reluctant tears.  “I promise you, we’ll make it through.” 

She’d stopped crying. She simply stared into the gaping, empty space ahead of her, searching aimlessly for deeper emotion.  The tangibility of feeling dangled right in front of her, taunting her, but she couldn’t reach it. It’d disappeared somewhere.  

She’d never know what the baby looked like.  She’d never know her laugh, or what made her tick, or whose personality she’d mimic.  

She imagined that Harper would’ve fallen in love with her daddy - Brandon Greene was an easy person to love.  And he would’ve protected her. Obsessively so. 

And her mama and grandma would’ve spoiled her rotten. Harper would’ve been almost intolerable.  

And Harper’s aunts would’ve bought her all of the latest gadgets and clothes, talked boys and kissing inappropriately, taken her to movies or skating or something her mama wouldn’t dare know about.  

Perhaps these wishful memories had been stored in her head all along.  Desirous nostalgia too far out to be real. 

Harper Marie Greene would never exist, now.  

And why? Why did she have to be the one? How did she deserve such an involuntary fate? 

She gazed up at Brandon through tear-smeared eyes. And he gazed back. She studied his face, shifting her eyes from one side to the next.  They loved each other once, didn’t they? 

It was an unexpected, amorous occurrence, that she quickly realized in retrospect had been written in the stars all along.