THE TRIANGLE
Jennifer Victores
& Debbie Viguié
Published by JIV Publishing
The Triangle
Copyright © 2019 by Jennifer Victores
Published by JIV Publishing
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
To Valentina and Izabella. You are my inspiration. Never be afraid to chase your dreams. - JV
To Scott, the man I have loved through all time. - DV
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TABLE OF CONTENTS
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
Epilogue
1
Miami, 2015
Calamity always strikes when things are perfect. The answer is to never be too happy so that you can never be too miserable.
Sally White realized she had dozed off for just a moment and had dreamed of her grandmother, a wretched woman who had spent her entire life alone. She’d never understood true happiness, not the kind Sally had. As thoughts of her evaporated, Sally forced her eyes open.
She found herself staring into her husband Mark’s deep, emerald green gaze. He smiled at her.
“There you are. I thought I was boring you,” he teased. “Usually afterward you’re the talkative one and I’m the one falling asleep.”
Sally smiled and stretched. Her arms and legs were intertwined with his in the most delicious way. “You don’t usually surprise me with breakfast in bed first.”
“We’re alone in the house. We’ve got to take advantage of these things while we can,” he said, nuzzling her ear.
“I thought we took plenty of advantage last night.” She grinned.
“With you, there’s no such thing.”
“I’ll have to let the girls spend the weekend with my parents more often,” she said, thinking of Emma and Jayne.
“Maybe it’s time you and I considered going on a second honeymoon,” he said, kissing her neck.
“I think we should start right now and just stay in bed all day.”
He sighed as he pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “As wonderful as that sounds, I can’t just leave Dave hanging.”
“He knows how to steer the boat.”
“Yeah, but it’s my boat,” Mark said. “And I’m the one who planned the fishing trip three months ago. It’d be a little rude if I didn’t show up.”
She gave him a lingering kiss. “You’re right. I just--I don’t want you to go.”
“Believe me, I’m regretting it myself,” he said. “Of course, you’ve got big plans, too. All week you’ve been talking about being able to go shopping without the girls. You’ve been saying a day all by yourself would be--what was the word?”
“Heavenly,” she murmured as he nuzzled her neck again. “You’re right. Let’s just promise each other this won’t be the last morning we get to spend together like this in the next twenty years.”
“They’ll be in college before that,” he teased.
“Yeah. With our luck they’ll be going local and we still won’t have any privacy.”
He kissed her. “I promise, more of this for us. Just as soon as I get back.”
Reluctantly, Sally got up and dressed. The morning did remind her of the early days of their marriage, before kids and jobs and responsibilities piled up. With all of that had come some successes and a lot of joy, but sometimes she longed for the simple life they used to have.
She watched him dress, admiring the ripple of the muscles in his shoulders as he slipped on his shirt. They’d been married nearly a decade, and he was far more handsome now than he had been back then. They’d married just out of college and he’d still been a skinny, gangly kid. The broad shoulders and lean, tight muscles he had now had been nowhere in evidence.
“I love you,” she said.
He turned and gave her a slow, sexy smile. “That’s good, because you’re never getting rid of me. It would be seriously awkward for you if you had to spend the rest of your life with someone you didn’t like.”
She laughed and threw a pillow at him, which he easily caught. His physique might be that of a man, but he had the same boyish smile which had first caught her attention back in ninth grade.
“I love you, too,” he said. “Always and forever.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
It was a ritual they’d had for years which always made her feel happy and safe.
~
They both finished dressing, and twenty minutes later they regrouped at the front door. Mark grabbed his fishing hat, a beat-up tan bucket hat dotted with fishing lures.
It was his lucky fishing hat. Mostly, it was lucky for him because Sally had bought it for him when he got the boat. He knew it was her way of supporting his fishing mania even if she didn’t share it. He didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky as to get a wife who was smart, beautiful, and supportive.
Sally was wearing a brilliant blue dress that matched her eyes. It was one of the ones she usually saved for special occasions.
“Wow, you look awfully fancy just to go shopping,” he noted.
“Today, I’m not wearing any mom clothes. I’m just a grown woman out on the town,” she said with a smirk.
He felt a sudden swift pang of jealousy and reached out, pulling her into his arms. “Promise you won’t even glance at any other man while I’m gone.”
“I promise,” she said, a little breathlessly. “You know you’re my favorite husband.”
He smiled. Whenever she wanted to tease him, she’d say that. He kissed her. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
“I’ll be waiting.” She pulled away and flicked his hat. “This one’s getting a little worn. I should probably get you a new one.”
“Nope. I’m wearing this hat forever,” he said.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Have fun, and tell Dave I said hello.”
“Will do.”
He gave her another quick kiss and then headed out the door. As he was driving away he put down the window and winked at her with a smile. This was his way of letting Sally know he loved her. A minute later, he was on his way to the marina. It was a beautiful morning. He was sure Dave was already there, prepping the boat and wondering what was taking him so long. That was okay. Dave wasn’t married. He didn’t have the same morning distractions Mark did.
He thought of Sally, and before he knew it he was calling her. She picked up quickly.
“I didn’t expect to be hearing from you quite this soon. Everything okay?” she asked.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. Of course, you’ve only been gone for ten minutes. Maybe you should rethink the trip.”
“Believe me, I would if
I could.”
“I know. This is the only bonding time you and Dave get. I understand. Of course, with no one here to supervise me I may just decide to do something crazy, like buy new appliances, redo the living room…who knows what could happen.”
He laughed, knowing she wouldn’t do anything that extravagant out of the blue. “Tell you what. I don’t care if you buy a new oven, as long as you make lasagna in it tomorrow night.”
“Sure, I can pick up a frozen one at the store.”
He shook his head. She always teased that she was going to do that. Her made-from-scratch lasagna was his favorite thing to eat. Usually she only made it on special occasions, but he had his fingers crossed.
“So, second honeymoon. I hear Paris is magical,” he said.
“I thought that St. Augustine was magical,” she said.
“It was a great honeymoon. If we went back there, though, we’d have to see if we couldn’t convince whoever owned that mansion you loved with those amazing gardens to let us stay there for the night.”
He could hear her laughing. “Yeah, we’ll just stroll up, ring the doorbell, and say, ‘Pardon us, but we’ve admired your house for years. Care to give us the tour?’ I’m sure that will go over real well.”
“I was thinking more of along the lines of, ‘Hello, I’m an award-winning architect and I’d like to study your house for a day or two as an example of nineteenth century Floridian architecture’ approach might work.”
“That is a good angle. Clever,” she praised him.
“Your husband can be pretty smart sometimes.”
“Which one?”
“Your favorite one.”
‘I see. And when is my favorite husband coming home tomorrow?”
“I’ll be home before dark,” he assured her. “We can talk all about the second honeymoon then.”
“In that case, I’ll make the lasagna.”
He arrived at the marina and slowly drove until his boat was in sight. He could see Dave aboard, clearly raring to go.
“You are the best,” he told her. “I’m at the boat. Looks like Dave’s about to burst.”
“Have fun.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He hung up as he got out of the car. He blew a kiss in the direction of their house, another little tradition from the days when they’d only had one car and she’d had to drop him off at whatever boat he had rented space on for the day.
He grabbed his duffle bag from the trunk and watched as a teenage boy with a sharp, hawkish nose climbed out of the car next to his. Moments later, Mark was boarding his boat. It was a fifty-five foot yacht named The Guardians.
“Hey, Dave, I saw another one of your kids in the parking lot. Had your nose. Same cheekbones, too.”
Dave turned to look at him, eyes narrowing over that same large, hawkish nose as the kid in the parking lot. He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, very good. By your count I’m up to how many progeny at this point?”
“Gee, I’m not sure I’ve kept count, but I’d say at least a hundred and twelve.”
Dave smirked. “Wherever do I find the time?”
“Wow, cracking a joke like that and we’re not even out of the marina! Careful, someone might hear you,” Mark said, only half-teasing. Dave was a Catholic priest, and while he didn’t wear the collar on fishing trips, there was always the risk that someone would recognize him and gossip about whatever he was doing or saying on his down time. Mark would never want to live with the kind of scrutiny his friend was constantly under.
“Well, then let’s get out of here. I’ve got some real colorful things to say today.”
“You’re the captain.”
“Be a good first mate and toss off the ropes,” Dave instructed.
“Aye-aye,” Mark said, saluting him and then untying the boat from the dock. “All clear, Captain.”
He liked to give Dave crap, but on the boat, his friend really was the Captain. He was the one with all the navigation skills. He’d spent four years in the navy right after high school before going to seminary.
Moments later, they were leaving Miami behind and heading for their favorite fishing spot in the Keys. As soon as they were out of the marina, Mark felt the weight of stress he usually carried slip from his shoulders, and he could tell by the change in his posture that Dave felt the same way.
It was a beautiful day without a cloud in the sky and yet it wasn’t too hot, as it oftentimes got. There was a light breeze which helped keep things cool. Mark breathed in deeply of the salty air. Out here on the water, it was easy to let the stress of modern life go.
That was one of the things he loved about fishing. It was simple. Fundamental. When he was out on the water fishing, he had a connection to thousands of years of ancestors who had done the same. Not a whole lot had changed, except for the boats. He had a fishing pole and the company of a friend.
“Sometimes when we’re out I feel as if it’s the eighteenth century,” he told Dave.
The other man rolled his eyes. “I don’t think either of us would want to live in the seventeen-hundreds.”
“I don’t know. Simpler time. Something to be said for that.”
“I’ve got three words for you,” Dave chimed back at him. “No. Internal. Plumbing.”
Mark chuckled. “You would have made a terrible explorer.”
“Know yourself and know your enemy and you’ll be victorious in a thousand battles.”
“Sun Tzu would be so proud. How did you ever survive in the navy?”
“Modern conveniences.”
“So, you never had the desire to become an old-time sailor?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Okay, so maybe not the eighteenth century.”
A shiver suddenly danced up Mark’s spine. For just a moment, the air around him felt electric, like the build-up before a storm. The skies remained clear and the seas were calm.
It’s just your imagination, he lectured himself. On such a perfect day as this, nothing could possibly go wrong.
2
Sally had decided to put off the grocery shopping until the next morning. It was too glorious a day to waste on such a mundane activity. Instead, she decided to stroll along the shops down by South Beach. The bright colors, outrageous outfits and sparkling jewelry matched her mood. She briefly thought about calling one of her friends to come join her, but Mark was right. She’d been dreaming about alone time all week. Might as well take advantage of it.
She loved being a mom, and she loved her girls more than anything, but sometimes it was nice to have grown-up time with her husband and friends. It was also nice to occasionally be alone with her own thoughts and just be able to be, without having to carry on a conversation or think about the other person.
Today, the only person she had to please was herself.
She strolled leisurely, nodding and smiling to people, but that was the extent of the interaction required of her. At one point as she was shopping she found a ridiculously loud aloha-style shirt with fish all over it and briefly thought about buying it for Mark. It suited his style, and the crazy thing was, he would no doubt wear it somewhere inappropriate just to embarrass her.
At least she’d known what she was getting herself into from Day One. He was an avid fisherman when they’d met. His grandfather used to take him all the time when he was a little kid. Mark had fished all up and down the coast of Florida. When they started dating in eleventh grade, he’d told her she was the only thing he liked more than fishing. A year later, when he blew off a fishing tournament to take her to prom, she’d finally believed him. If that wasn’t true love, nothing was.
She decided against purchasing the shirt and kept walking. She walked into a funky little bookshop that had practically become an institution in the area. They were famous for having speakers and writers coming in to visit on a weekly basis. An easel up front had a poster with a l
arge picture of a dark-haired woman posed in that thoughtful, chin-on-hand pose in which so many authors seemed to like to be photographed. The lighting shining on her was dramatic, giving rise to a sense of shadow and mystery. The name Janis Coleman was splashed across the middle of the poster. There was more, but Sally didn’t pay attention. Mystery wasn’t really her genre, and besides, it wasn’t as if she had time to read with her busy life.
She perused a couple of the tables up front, fantasizing about what it would be like to have time to read again. She used to love it. There was a reprint of an old book written about the early days of Florida which they stocked mostly for tourists. She picked up a romance novel and glanced at it for a moment, quickly perusing the back cover before putting it down again. Who needed to read about other couples’ happily-ever-afters when she already had the most romantic husband in the world?
Real life beat fairy tales every day of the week.
~
It was early evening and all Mark’s cares seemed to have melted away in the twilight. He wasn’t worried about the complicated redesign he was in the middle of for the new bank building downtown, nor was he concerned over the two deals his company had been working to close for the last month. Instead, he was simply relaxing, watching the sun slowly sinking toward the horizon and daydreaming about Sally.
“What are you thinking about?” Dave asked with a curious smile.
“My wife.”
His grin widened. “Must be nice to be married.”
“It is, and not only for the particular reason currently on my mind.”
“Pervert.”
“Prude.”
The easy banter came from years of close friendship. Dave had once told him Mark was the only one of his friends who hadn’t started treating him differently once he’d become a priest. He knew the other man valued that. A priest needed a close friend as much as the next man, someone with whom he could just blow off steam and not worry that he’d be judged.
The Triangle Page 1