Brightest

by Rochelle Allison

  By eleven, the bride and groom had left in a shower of sparklers and confetti, followed by most of their guests. The main staff was packing up to leave, and the clean-up crew Ivy’d hired especially had arrived. I had to give it to her—she really did think of everything.

  She was at the bar now, relaxing with Jude, Maggie, Ariel, and Jolie, sharing a bottle of champagne. Retrieving my bag from Jude’s office, I joined the group. I felt sticky and gross, anxious to get home and shower. It’d been a long day. Successful, but long.

  Jude tugged me close, tucking me between his legs. “You ready?”

  “So ready,” I mumbled. “Any champagne left?”

  Jolie winced, tipping over the empty bottle. “We just finished it. Do you want to open another one…?”

  I shook my head, forcing a smile. She was a nice girl, and I didn’t want to make her feel bad. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ll get you something on the way home,” said Jude, stepping off his stool. “You ready to go, ‘Lina?”

  “So ready.” I glanced at Ivy, who looked a little tipsy. “You good to drive?”

  “Damon’s picking us up,” Ariel said, scrolling leisurely through her phone. “But thanks.”

  I frowned, wondering what bug had crawled up her ass. We’d been fine for months now, never besties like Ivy and me, but more than cordial. As naïve as it sounded, part of me had hoped that one day I’d see what Jude had once seen in her, what Ivy loved about her. But she’d cooled lately, and after today’s barely concealed impatience toward me, I wasn’t sure what to think.

  Jude and I headed out, holding hands as we walked down the boardwalk. “Sometimes I really don’t get her.”

  “Ariel?”

  “Who else?”

  He shrugged. “She’s always been like that.”

  “What, bitchy?”

  “I mean…” He chuckled. “I thought you guys got along now.”

  “I thought so, too, but she was in a mood today. Condescending, even.”

  “I wouldn’t take it personally.” He glanced at me. “Ivy said she broke up with that guy she was seeing, so she’s probably in her feelings.”

  That had nothing to do with me, but we were both tired and the last thing I wanted was to bicker over Ariel. “I talked to my mom today,” I said instead.

  “Yeah? How’s she doing?”

  “She’s great. In fact…” I turned toward him in my seat. “She and my brother are still thinking about coming down for Thanksgiving. Or Christmas—it depends on when she can get the time off.”

  “Actually, I might go to Boston for Thanksgiving, to see my parents,” Jude said quietly. “I hoped maybe we could go. Together.”

  I sat back in surprise, laughing a bit. “Were you going to tell me, or…?”

  “Nothing’s decided.” He squeezed my knee, smiling ruefully. “I talked to my mom today, too. It just came up.”

  I paused, chewing my lip. I’d always wanted to visit Amelia and Salomen in Boston, but the timing sucked. Bishop, Cordelia, and I were to present our thesis right before break, and I’d been looking forward to getting through that and relaxing. Still, maybe we could figure something out.

  “My mom and Adam can probably come for Christmas then, I guess,” I said. “But what about my project?”

  “What about it?”

  “I mean, when were you thinking of flying up? You know I have to present, like, a day before break.”

  “Dad has surgery the week before, so I’d want to be there for that.”

  He’d said nothing was decided, but he sounded pretty sure to me. I rested my hand over his. “Then I think you should go as soon as you can.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll go as soon as I can, too.”

  “Is there any way Bishop and Cordelia can present on your behalf?” he asked.

  My heart thumped. I’d put so much into this project; I didn’t want to leave my team carrying my weight at such a critical time. “I don’t think so.”

  He nodded, his face neutral as he turned back to the road.

  “But I’ll be on the first flight after.”

  ~

  I woke to Jude’s voice, drifting in from the hallway. He entered the room a second later, yawning as he dropped his phone onto the bed.

  “What’s up?” I asked, reaching for him.

  He slid down next to me, warm and soft and bare-chested. “Have to go to the bar for a minute.”

  I frowned, fantasies of lazing about in our pajamas all day dissipating. “Why?”

  “That tropical depression just became a tropical storm.” He yawned again, running his hands through his hair. “Might get nasty tonight, so we’re closing up. I’m gonna help them lock up, make sure everything is secure.”

  It had been an active season, churning out storm after storm. Some evaporated out at sea or hit neighboring islands with minimal effects, but this one sounded windy and rainy enough to cause a mess. Jude had played with the idea of having a hurricane party at Larsen’s, but now that we'd upgraded from depression to storm, that idea was out. We’d have to party at home.

  “You think the power’s going to go out?” I asked.

  “Maybe not, but power outages are normal down here. Any little thing. We have a generator, but I’d prefer not to use it unless it’s an absolute emergency.”

  I nodded. “Do you want me to come with?”

  “Maybe just grab a few supplies from Pueblo. Snacks, water, whatever,” he said. “The power'll probably go out up here, too, so make sure you get extra batteries.”

  My tummy swirled, anxious but a little excited, too. We’d seen some major hurricanes in Miami over the years, and while they could be scary, there was something fascinating, too. Sitting up, I swept my mess of bed-hair into a ponytail. “I can do that.”

  Jude tugged me back down, caging me beneath him. “Ey, where you goin’?”

  “We need to get ready for the hurricane,” I said with a laugh, shrieking when his grabby hands turned tickly. “Or whatever it is…”

  “Only hurricane you need to worry about right now is me.”

  It was half past three by the time I got back to the house. Midnight jetted out the front door the second I opened it, having been holding down the fort all day. Being a big, spoiled baby, he usually either accompanied Jude to the bar or went hiking with Nora and the kids, who liked having him come along on some of their adventures.

  “We have kids; we don’t need pets of our own,” Nora liked to say. “And I definitely don’t need any more poop to clean up.”

  Or pee—that was my job it seemed, judging by the ever-present puddle in the kitchen. Rolling my eyes, I tossed a paper towel onto it and got started with dinner, wanting to have something hot to eat before we lost electricity.

  By the time Jude made it home, the skies were heavy and grey, and in the distance, the ocean churned angrily, capped with white as far as the eye could see.

  “Was the traffic awful?” I asked, glancing at the time as he kissed my cheek.

  “Not really,” he said, dropping his keys on the counter. “Kind of quiet, actually.”

  “It was a little hectic at the store earlier.”

  “I’m sure it was. Everyone’s home now, though.”

  He washed his hands and grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, popping them open as I spooned soup and salad into bowls. Outside, the wind picked up, howling and whistling through the eaves.

  “You shower yet?” Jude asked around a mouthful of food. “Probably should.”

  I nodded, swallowing. “You go first; I'll clean up.”

  He chuckled, wiping his face. “God forbid this place isn’t spotless.” Jude liked to tease me but, just like my mom, I was a tad obsessive when it came to cleanliness.

  “You’ll be thanking me if we lose power,” I said, grimacing at the thought of rooting around a grimy kitchen in the dark.

  In bed later, after a shower, and the expected power outage, and a ro
und of slow, lazy sex (nothing else to do), we sprawled out above the covers, listening to the wind batter the house outside. Inside, things were cozy and sweet, the air fragrant with the scent of just-blown-out candles.

  “I kinda like this,” I said, grinning in the dark. “Being all hunkered down in the middle of a storm. It’s romantic.”

  “Yeah, I liked it when I was a kid.” His found hand mine. “Still do, I guess. Never really thought about it.”

  We were quiet, then. The wind roared, seeming to shake the roof. I thought about the heavy crossbeams supporting that roof, and how many storms this house had weathered in its old age.

  “I saw a couple getting married today.”

  “Hell of a day to do that.”

  “No kidding.” I smiled in the dark, remembering. After grabbing supplies earlier, I’d stopped at Pelican Cove, wanting to see the ocean during the beginning stages of a storm. Except for a small group of people huddled near the shore, the beach was empty. The wind was whipping everyone’s hair, and the man officiating had to yell to be heard, but there was something timelessly beautiful about it. I’d watched for a moment, impressed they’d gone ahead with it despite the weather. “When I get married, I want to get married on the beach.”

  “Of course, you do.” There was a smile in his voice, too.

  “Most guys would freak out…”

  “Nah, I like the beach.”

  I snorted, poking his arm. “About marriage talk.”

  “Yeah?” He ran his hand over my belly.

  “I’d want all of my friends to come,” I said. “Even Theo.”

  Jude sucked his teeth. “Please...not that guy.”

  “He’s still my friend,” I said, even though we hadn’t spoken in a month or two. Sometimes I got the impression he was waiting to see if I’d break things off with Jude, but otherwise, he was supportive. “I know things went to shit between you two, but I feel like if it wasn’t for him…you and me might not be together.”

  “We would’ve met somehow, some way.”

  “Oh, really?” I rolled toward him. “How?”

  “I believe in fate.”

  “Very mystical. You been hanging with Eli in the rainforest again?” I teased.

  He chuckled. “You don’t believe some things are meant to happen?”

  I paused. Maybe I did. In my field of study, it was all about numbers and facts and things we could track and chart, but maybe some things were just… “Magic.”

  “Call it what you want.” He ran his hand over my thigh. We were a little sweaty, but I liked it. “But if Theo comes down here again, he needs to stay far the fuck from me. Like…East End. Point Udall.”

  “Okay, okay.” Laughing, I nuzzled our faces together until our lips met.

  “So, which beach?” he asked after a moment.

  My heart stuttered. Was he for real? “I—I don’t know?”

  “The Buccaneer does beach weddings. I went to one once.”

  “But you wouldn’t choose it,” I guessed, reading his tone.

  “I’d want something smaller. Less tourists.”

  “I used to be a tourist.”

  “That didn’t last long.” He licked his tongue over my neck, sucking the skin.

  “While we’re talking friends,” I said shakily, already aroused, “I’d hire Ivy, but not Ariel.”

  Now, he was the one snorting. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” I kissed him, pulling down on top of me. Teasing kisses grew intense, and I wrapped my legs around him, even though I could still feel him from just a little while before.

  He grabbed my butt and squeezed. “You going for round two?”

  “What else is there to do?”

  Chapter Seven

  Jude stared blankly down at me, an empty water bottle in his hand. He’d just returned from errands and a workout at Bodhi’s, and here I was, in the same tank top and underwear I’d been in all day.

  “Just give me one minute,” I murmured, scribbling desperately into my notebook. My class had been spending time a lot at the mangroves again, and I was behind on some of my work. “And then we can chill…”

  “You said that last night,” he said, chuckling, but he wasn’t amused. Not really. Jude worked hard, but he wasn’t balancing work and school the way I was. “Take a break, Alina.”

  I sighed, finishing my notes and clapping my laptop and notebook shut. “Okay, okay.”

  But he’d already left the room. The shower went on. Standing, I stretched the kinks out and joined him in the bathroom.

  “Don’t be mad,” I said, peeling my clothes off.

  “I thought we were doing lunch,” he said.

  I cringed, belatedly remembering the soup and salad I’d promised to make. And the muffins…if I didn’t use those blueberries soon they’d rot. Shit. When I got going, I tended to lose track of time. “Sorry. I was in—”

  “The zone. I know.”

  “Hey.” Whipping the bathroom door open, I stepped into the steam with him. “I told you it’d be like this.”

  He eyed me for a second before tilting his head back, letting water run over his hair. I soaped up in silence, waiting. He couldn’t be that pissed. But when it looked like he wasn’t going to say anything, I huffed, nudging him aside so I could rinse. “Jude.”

  “I thought the point of you going to grad school here was so we could see each other, but these days…shit. You might as well still be gone,” he said.

  “This is why I wasn’t sure about moving in,” I said, touching his arm. “I want to be with you, but this is important to me. I have to focus, or I’ll fall behind.”

  “I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose,” he said, running his hand over my wet hair. “Just keep your promises. Don’t break plans.”

  I nodded, chastened. He was right. “I’m sorry.”

  Smiling a little, he kissed my cheek. “I’ll start the salad, as long as you make those muffins.”

  The days of November flew by. I worked steadily on my thesis with Cordelia and Bishop, having them up to the house for dinner a couple times so we could hash out our project. Jude tried to be supportive, giving me space even when I could tell he wanted my time, and I tried my best to maintain a sense of balance, making time for him. For us. No one made me feel the way he did. No one lit up my heart.

  Jude and I attended the Nature Conservancy’s annual charity gala at the Botanical Gardens, the event I’d been looking forward to for months. It was a beautiful, elegant evening, but bittersweet without Jude’s parents, who’d attended every year for at least a decade. The Larsens were known and loved among these circles, and everyone wanted to know how Salomen was doing.

  Meanwhile, up in Boston, Salomen was still recovering from surgery. Post-surgery chemo was scheduled to start in a month, so he was excited to see Jude before then. They spoke on Facetime several nights a week, which, while a comfort to them both, was also difficult. Salomen was often tired, and thinner than we’d seen him. I couldn’t imagine what chemo would do.

  The night before Jude left for Boston, we had dinner at a new restaurant in Frederiksted. Seemingly lost in thought, Jude ate more than he talked, and after a quiet meal, I took his hand and squeezed. “You worried about tomorrow? Your dad?”

  He glanced at me, and then away. “A little.”

  I waited for him to go on, and when he didn’t, I squeezed again. “Talk to me.”

  He exhaled slowly, and I got the impression he was tasting his words before spitting them out. “I wish you’d just fly up with me.”

  This was an on-going conversation. We both wanted me to be with him in Boston for Thanksgiving, but my professor had denied my request for an extension…and I wasn’t willing to take a lesser grade by letting Cordelia and Bishop present without me. Besides, maybe some one-on-one with his parents was a good thing. “You know I can’t. But I’ll be there as soon as my class wraps up. The very next day.”

  “It’s just not something I feel like doing
alone right now,” he said, rubbing his hand over his face.

  “I know. But…you won’t be alone.” I swallowed, searching for the words to say. “By this time tomorrow, you’ll be with your dad—and your mom.”

  It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, and now I felt torn. I wanted to be there, but I’d worked so hard on my thesis. Was I wrong to let him go alone? Especially since I’d be following a day later?