by Eva LeNoir
The conversation always ended the same way. He knew his daughter best and this was the way to go about it.
I begged to differ. I may not have known her as well, but one thing was clear, betrayal of trust did not bode well with Jaidyn Hughes and I, for one, did not want to be caught in her wrath.
Or her pain. God, the thought of hurting her was physically painful.
After we left Sydney, we took a short flight to Brisbane and had been visiting around Queensland for the better part of the week. The waves had been rolling in nice, so we’d decided to take a ride and try them out.
“I cannot believe how easily you rode that wave, that’s insane!” Jaidyn was gushing from the passenger seat as we drove up the Gold Coast back to our hotel in Brisbane.
The level was a bit more difficult than what Jaidyn had experienced in Hawaii, or even the couple of times we’d gone out in New Zealand. With the offshore winds kicking up, the tubes were big enough for me to position myself in the hollow part of the wave. It was fun and knowing my girl was in the water watching, made the moment even more intense.
“What can I say, your boyfriend is the big Kahuna,” I said, and as soon as the words left my mouth, I took my eyes off the road and looked over at Jaidyn, afraid she’d freak out on me.
“Boyfriend, huh?” she purred, angling her body towards mine and licking her lips.
I shrugged, trying to play off as normal. It wasn’t anywhere near the realm of normal. I hadn’t had a girlfriend since junior year of high school and got dumped for Danny Grosso because he drove a BMW. At least, that was what I told myself even though Ethan had informed me that it was mostly because I paid her little attention, my focus always on my friends and my surfing. He may have been right.
“I like it,” she murmured, reaching out to bury her hands in my hair and playing with the curls.
“Me too,” and I did. I liked the sound of Jaidyn being mine. All mine. And I’d do everything I could to keep it that way.
Robert had wanted to swim with the turtles and that wish was something easy to put into place. And that’s where we were, off the coast of Bundaberg, floating on the azure waters of the Coral Sea, watching the sea turtles live their best lives.
“It’s so beautiful here, Dad,” Jaidyn said to her father as they looked over starboard, watching schools of fish flying by and the shadows of the coral reef doing its part to feed the sea animals.
“Did you put on sunscreen?” he asked her as though she were five.
“Of course,” she answered softly, ignoring the edge in his voice. His leg was perpetually shaking, making him lose patience with himself and Jaidyn was somehow feeling guilty.
I didn’t want to get involved in that moment; it was theirs to share. A father, daughter bond that could never be broken but would be strained in the coming weeks and months.
“Look, right there, a green turtle,” Robert said, excitement and awe evident in his voice. I watched them both from the portside and basked in the knowledge that my girl was living a dream. There were still good days with Robert, his outbursts happening mostly when he was tired or depressed. With his vape pen readily available during the day, his energy levels were elevated enough for us to have a good time on our outings.
“Oh my god,” she whispered, as though afraid to chase away the turtles, “they’re majestic.”
I’d seen them many times during my three-month stint on the Gold Coast. As much as the city of Sydney was all new to me, this here was my stomping ground. This time around all I wanted was to watch Jaidyn and learn all of her quirks.
Sounds behind me in the water got my attention. When I turned around, a school of five or six bottlenose dolphins were swimming and playing, sometimes jumping out and diving back in.
“Look!” Jaidyn gasped, pulling on her dad’s shirt and pointing behind me, “Dolphins!”
They both stood beside me and I took advantage of Jaidyn’s proximity to snake an arm around her waist, pulling her in front of me so she could lean against me.
“They’re so much fun,” she said, laughing, “I’ve swum with them before, you know,” she said, folding her arms over mine on her waist, her head against my chest.
“I remember that, baby doll,” Robert said, pulling his hat a little lower and moving toward the shade. It was a hot day and the sun was unforgiving, “you said it was better than ice-cream,” he laughed, making me chuckle at the idea of a little Jaidyn comparing the comparable.
“I stand by that statement,” she said, shrugging, “even if it’s Rocky Road.”
We stayed out on the water for an hour before Robert showed serious signs of fatigue, so we decided to pull up the anchor, say goodbye to the sea animals and head back to Bundaberg for dinner. I let Jaidyn take the helm, sitting behind her and enjoying the heat from her sun-kissed skin as we glided over the tranquil waters of the sea.
This time around, we’d opted for a bed and breakfast, getting two rooms instead of three, I’d already paid for Jaidyn’s and mine without her knowing, feeling it wasn’t professional to use a room that was paid for by a client.
It was quaint and different from the luxury living we’d been doing since the beginning of the world tour. For a reason I couldn’t understand, when we were planning this leg of the trip, he’d insisted on staying at this particular bed and breakfast, adamant he wouldn’t stay anywhere else.
When we’d arrived last night, I understood why.
Mrs. Penny Hallows and Mr. Robert Hughes were not strangers. As soon as he walked in the door, her eyes had gone misty and his grin told a thousand personal stories. They hugged, whispering to each other and looking at each other as though they couldn’t believe the moment was happening.
“You’re really here,” she’d said, and Jaidyn froze, her curiosity a living thing. I squeezed her hand to remind her I was there if she needed me. She squeezed back in answer. She knew. It was all good.
“I am, yes,” he said, “you haven’t changed a bit in fifteen years, you know that? Just as beautiful as always. Probably just as much of a pain in the ass as always, too,” Jaidyn reared back, I chuckled but we said nothing until a young woman, about Jaidyn’s age, maybe older walked out with clean towels stacked up on her arms.
“Mum, room three for the clean towels, yeah?”
“Yes, Kirra, make sure to get the sheets too, luv,” Mrs. Hallows said to her daughter.
“My how you’ve grown, it’s good to see you again, Kirra,” Robert said, accepting Kirra’s hug and beautiful grin. She looked to be aboriginal from her father’s side considering her mother was as white as the stereotypical Brit.
When she turned her attention back from Robert, she shook her head and extended her hand, “I’m so sorry, I’m being rude. Penny Hallows, I’m the owner of the Hallows Bed and Breakfast. Welcome, welcome,” she smiled warmly at us and then turned to Robert, “You always did say your daughter was lovely, for once you weren’t exaggerating,” she joked, slightly pushing his arm as she laughed. Being the closest, I quickly shot out an arm to make sure he kept his balance without embarrassing him.
“Yes, Penny, this is my daughter, Jaidyn and her boyfriend, Marlon,” he introduced us and then led her by the arm and headed to the living room without a backward look.
Jaidyn and I looked at each other and shrugged, we’d been dismissed. At the front desk, Kirra, Penny’s daughter gave us our keys and said she’d give us a call when their parents had finished reminiscing.
“She’s been talking about this for weeks,” she said, a fond smile on her face as she watched her mother and Robert talking adamantly.
“What’s the story, do you know?” Jaidyn asked Kirra, worry and curiosity blending into one.
“They met fifteen years ago when your father came here on business, she got him out of a negotiation mess by giving him the ins and outs of the land.”
That made sense, he’d been here on business and must have stayed here at every occasion.
“That’s why he
’d insisted on me booking this particular bed and breakfast in this particular town,” I mused, putting the puzzle pieces together.
“Ah, yes, he’s been here a couple of times,” she added, “always on business. Knew my dad, too. They used to drink on the porch and talk shop and history.” The fondness in her voice said a lot. I figured her dad was gone and those memories were as precious as life itself.
“I’m sorry about your father,” Jaidyn said, understanding the past tense of Kirra’s words, “I’m so very happy to meet you.”
“Likewise, come on, I’ll show you to your room,” Kirra said, flipping her chestnut colored hair behind her shoulder and gifting us with a smile that could light up the night.
Later that night, after I feasted on Jaidyn’s pussy and then fucked her until she was too tired to talk, I lay there content, moonlight streaming in through the crack of the curtains. Playing with a strand of her hair as she rested her head on my shoulder, her arm strewn across my chest, I decided it was time to share.
“My parents were like a bad version of Bonnie and Clyde,” I started, startling her but not giving her time to ask questions. I wanted to say it all and then hopefully, it would go away. “They would rob people’s homes, take whatever they could get their hands on and then come home and party like they were horny teens.”
I had to be the adult, take care of myself when it came to school and food. My neighbors were either drug dealers or gang members except for the old man across the street. Nobody ever fucked with him, though. He was a loner and knew how to use a gun.
“One night, they came home as usual, started having sex on the kitchen counter after stealing something or other, I don’t know,” God, I hated this story. I could feel my throat tightening at the memory.
“You don’t have to, Marlon. I was being a brat,” Jaidyn said, looking up at me and kissing my cheek, “You don’t have to,” she repeated for good measure.
“It’s fine, really,” it wasn’t, but for Jaidyn I could get past this. “When they came home, I was in the pantry, door closed, looking for anything I could use to make myself dinner. I figured I’d wait it out, my hands on my ears, if it meant not getting the shit beat out of me for interrupting.”
Jaidyn gasped and I rose up to kiss the top of her head letting her know it was okay.
“They never had time to finish,” I paused, trying to get the words out without choking on them, “They’d apparently robbed a member of the local gang, like someone important or something. A bunch of guys, I don’t know how many, like I said I was hiding, they burst into the house guns firing like the wild west,” my voice lowered, the memory too painful to recount. “There was blood everywhere, seeping under the pantry door, they kept shooting even though my parents were already dead.”
Jaidyn hiked up on her elbow and started caressing my temple, her eyes holding no pity, only concern and I appreciated that. I didn’t need pity. I’d survived through it all because I was a fighter.
“My parents fell against the door, trapping me inside. I didn’t dare move or make any noise; afraid the gang would shoot me too.” I paused, smiling awkwardly, “I stayed there, trapped inside the pantry, blood leaking further and further inside, for hours. I tried to make myself as small as possible which was when a family sized can fell on my eye. I stayed there until the police came and my neighbour, Joseph Sanchez, came searching for me, worried I’d been hurt.”
Without a word, Jaidyn ran her index finger on my left brow and kissed my lips, giving me strength and allowing me to compose myself after that confession.
“Head trauma,” she said softly, “that’s how you got the heterochromia.” It wasn’t a question and she was absolutely right. The can had slammed onto my face from the top shelf, causing damage to my eye. Their deaths a permanent reminder every time I looked in the mirror.
“Thank you, Marlon,” she whispered against my lips, her breath like oxygen to my soul, “for trusting me.”
And just like that, a moment that should have brought us together only reminded me that all the while trusting her with my most vulnerable moment, I was breaking her trust with secrets.
Chapter 39
Jaidyn
"Y-you need to s-s-top this. Just stop with the mothering and leave me alone. Get out!" I tried not to let Dad's outbursts get to me, I really did. I would take in deep breaths, let them back out slowly though my nose and bite my lip to keep the tears from falling.
It wasn’t so much about me; I could handle the unintended abuse. It was about him. About how he felt afterwards, the guilt and the regrets. About the constant reminder that he was dying, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop the disease from taking him away from me.
It was about watching him physically regress into a person who needed help all the while his mind being conscious of his descent into hell.
It was hard and it was heartbreaking.
The only semblance of respite in the sea of uncertainty, was Marlon. He was there for me, no questions asked. As my sounding board, as a shoulder to lean on, as my lover and my comfort.
"I'll be back later," I whispered, mostly to myself as I quietly shut the door to our Melbourne apartment. I could feel Marlon's presence behind me, his worry like a coat of armor.
"You okay?" he asked softly, hands in his pockets and leaning against the wall.
"I'll be fine, I promise," I told him on a sigh, "I just hate this disease, I hate what it's doing to him." Extending his hand, I automatically went to him, needing the comfort he willingly offered inside the safety of his arms.
It was difficult to know how long we stayed there, my head on his shoulder and arms around his waist while one of his hands soothed my anxiety with every caress on my head. All the while, my disparate thoughts jumped from one scenario to the next. Would he need to cut his trip short? Should I call in a doctor? Why was it happening now, so soon? Nothing made sense to me anymore.
All I knew was that oftentimes, the next day, after sleeping it off, he would feel a little more like himself.
"As you know, as part of the program, each leg of the trip has a nurse or doctor on standby. Should I call her in?" Marlon asked, clearly trying to make himself useful, trying to fix the problem because that's who he was, a fixer.
"You're sweet but no. Not yet."
"Well, they're there for a reason so don't hesitate to get help, Jaybird. You are a lot of things but not all things at once," he said softly, One arm around my back, the other caressing the back of my head.
"I know, I know. I just keep thinking this is an anomaly. He shouldn't be deteriorating all of a sudden like this. I mean, his mood swings, yes, but he's declining ever since we left Queensland," I trailed off, thinking maybe it had something to do with Penny Hallows.
"What?" Marlon asked, clearly sensing something different in my demeanor.
"Penny Hallows. I think he misses her." I said, thinking the idea through in my mind. His mood had taken a turn for the worse shortly after we left her bed and breakfast. He had spent the better part of our stay there catching up with her, talking late into the night. Sometimes, I'd catch little snippets of their conversations, her husband’s name, jokes they shared. I felt like I was discovering a side of my father I didn't know existed. These close friends that he'd never even mentioned.
"That makes sense, they spent a lot of time together," Marlon agreed, his fingers playing with my hair.
"I didn't get the feeling it was romantic, though, did you?" I lifted my head from his shoulder so I could read his eyes, "Did you get that vibe, at all?" I repeated, making sure he understood the question.
"Nah, I think he just enjoyed talking about his past," he explained, his perception lining up with my own, "They were two friends wandering down memory lane before..." he let his words trail off but I knew the ending and I hated it.
Before he dies.
For awhile there, I had convinced myself that he could beat this. The first month of this journey he looked better but lat
ely I'd been constantly reminded that time wasn’t on our side.
"He still has about two years, he could come back, right?" I asked him rhetorically, resting my head back on his shoulder. His entire body stiffened, his breath stopping for a moment. It was nearly imperceptible, and I probably wouldn't have noticed had I not been touching him.
"What's wrong?" I asked him, concerned that maybe talking about the death of a parent could bring back painful memories of his own.
"Nothing," he said, relaxing a bit under my cheek, "nothing at all." His arms squeezed me a little more and his chin rested on top of my head, a long exhale rustling my hair.
"Thank you for being here for me."
"Always, little bird."
In the week we'd spent in Melbourne, we'd done our fair share of visiting. Between the State Library's La Trobe reading room that made me miss med school, to Luna Park where it was easy to remember I was a twenty-one-year-old who needed to enjoy life, our days were filled with laughter. The entire experience was perfection.
Except for the weather.
Knowing how to dress could be anyone’s guess.
"Why are you bringing an umbrella?" Marlon asked me, his eyes darting from me to the cloudless azure sky that painted a picture of the perfect day.
"I'm not being had by this crazy weather. Remember two days ago? All that was missing was snow and we had the four seasons, Vivaldi-style, live and in stereo sound." One minute I'd been sweating enough to fill buckets, an hour later I was buying a jacket to ward off the wind.
"Fair enough," he said putting a sweatshirt in his backpack along with three bottles of water and a cap that could serve as protection from the sun or the rain, whichever this city decided to gift us, "Maybe it won't be so crazy in the Yarra Valley," he picked up the two carry on sized suitcases and waited for us at the front entrance of the apartment.
"Hmm, doubtful, not far enough, methinks," I answered, sorting out my dad's medication for the next three days.