The Blame (17 page)

The cotton floral curtains were no match for the early morning rays of sunshine that rudely forced their way into the bedroom, striking Laura in the face and bringing her to wakefulness. She squinted towards the window, wondering why she’d forgotten to close the shutters the night before.

It took her a couple of seconds to realize where she was. A weekend away at the coast—and it was going to be a lovely sunny day to boot! A feeling of pleasant anticipation washed over her. She indulged in a luxuriant stretch, flexing her muscles until she felt the knots in her back loosen.

She turned on her side to look at David. In sleep he looked more relaxed and youthful; the tension that had lined his face seemed to have slipped away. As if aware of her scrutiny, his eyes fluttered open.

He smiled sleepily and placed his arm over her waist.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Yes, there’s plenty of that today. Let’s have breakfast out on the terrace.”

“Sounds good, but let’s have our run first.”

“David! Not today. I don’t feel like it. I just want to laze around,” she protested.

“Laura,” he replied patiently. “Don’t forget exercise is the best way to fight stress. Don’t start skipping your workout sessions.”

He tactfully avoided mentioning that doing so increased the danger of her falling back on her alternative method. And while she was no alcoholic, she was certainly moving toward a slippery slope.

His words reminded her why they were there in first place. She sighed, sat up and swung her legs out of bed. On the up side, she’d been awake for a good ten minutes before “The Secret” had insinuated its way into her thoughts.

That was progress indeed.

***

“You were right. Nothing better to relax the muscles than exhaustion,” panted Laura as she threw herself down on the sand.

David leaned over her, hands on his knees, breathing hard.

He nodded in agreement, too winded to talk, and plonked himself down next to her. They both stared out over the ocean as they stretched to get rid of the excess lactic acid in their muscles.

The seawater sparkled and glistened as though it had been liberally sprinkled with rhinestones. Laura watched as the successive waves curled and broke on the shore, accompanied by a gentle swoosh.  She took off her shoes and socks and wiggled her toes in the wet sand, enjoying the feel of the salty spray on her lips and hair.

She sighed pleasurably. Nothing was more therapeutic than losing oneself in the sights, sounds and taste of a beautiful deserted beach.  She squinted upwards at a squawking yellow-legged gull. She loved their familiar call although she found it somewhat haunting and disturbing—like the cry of a lost, lonely child.  

Child.

She reached for the cell phone in her bum bag.

David frowned. “Who are you going to call at this hour?”

“I want to check up on Vanessa, just to make sure that she slept all right.”

“You’ll do no such thing. Sara promised she’d call if anything happened. We have to learn to let go, Laura. We can’t chain her to us all the time; we have to sever the umbilical cord.”

She put her phone back and smiled at him. “Well, I don’t know about severing it, but maybe I could try to lengthen it a bit…”

David chuckled. “It’s Mariana’s birthday—they’ll be having a ball. She probably won’t spare us a thought.”

Laura smiled. “That’s good. I guess.”

***

Laura drained her glass of orange juice and, using her heels to pause the garden swing, set it down on the terrace. She leaned her head back against the padded cushion and closed her eyes as they swung gently to and fro. “I wish we could just stay here forever and forget about our other life.”

“But we can’t. And anyhow, you love our home. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Silence.

He nudged her leg with his knee.

“It was, but now…. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel comfortable there again. But I’m too scared to sell it, so basically we’re shackled to that property for the rest of our lives,” she said, her voice cracking.

“It’s early days yet, Laura. We don’t know how we’ll feel in a couple of years’ time. Let’s just take it one day at a time.”

“Maybe,” said Laura doubtfully.

“We have to create new memories that will supersede all the others,” he said emphatically. Then out of left field, he grabbed her hands and asked: “Do you still love me, Laura? I mean really love me?”

Hot tears sprang to her eyes. Did she love him? How could she not? He was part of her; he completed her. She couldn’t imagine not having him in her life. He’d seen her at her best and at her worst, and accepted her as she was. She’d been silly to hanker after adrenalin rushes when those fizzled out so quickly.

As she looked into his eyes, the love she felt for him was deep and solid and enduring. And yes, he could still make her pulse race, and more. Much more, because no one knew her like he did; no one knew what she liked like he did.

She nodded at him through her tears.

Leaning over sideways, David picked up his iPad off the end table, tapped it a few times and then put it down on the seat next to him. Familiar harmonica notes floated up to them, followed by Springsteen’s gruff voice:

I come from down in the valley

Where, mister, when you’re young

They bring you up to do like your daddy done…

Their song. Their cottage. Fifteen years on. So much that was different, and yet so much that was exactly the same.

“Tell me, Laura. I want to hear you say it.”

She gripped his hands tightly and met his gaze, “I love you, David. I always have and I always will.”

He took her in his arms and crushed her to his chest. After a moment he released her, his emotions more under control.

They listened to the rest of the song in silence, eyes glistening and hands tightly clasped.

When the last note had died away, David leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. He drew back and held her face between his hands.

“It doesn’t have to be like that for us,” he said. “It’s not too late. I think we can still make it.”

She looked deep into his eyes.

“I
know
we can.”

She got up and led him inside.

THE END