Brightest

by Rochelle Allison

  “I didn't grow up here,” I whispered, tangling our fingers together as we stepped closer. A soft breeze blew my hair around my face.

  “But our kids will, and what will you tell them when they ask?” he said, elbowing me.

  My stomach flipped, and I gazed up at him, grinning, goofy. Play dough. Putty. That’s what I was in this man’s hands. He always knew exactly what to say. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  I nodded.

  We took a couple of steps back and then made a run for it, jumping into the great blue beyond.

  ~

  The night before the wedding, we decided to play it traditional, allowing our friends and family to split us up. Jude went off with our fathers and his boys while I headed to Carambola early with our mothers and the girls.

  “Have fun,” he said, leaning down to kiss me in the driver’s seat. I’d finally upgraded to a new car, an SUV perfect for the potholes and dirt roads of St. Croix. Jude had insisted upon it months back when the junker I’d been driving died, leaving me stranded in a supermarket parking lot.

  “You too,” I said, kissing him back.

  His eyes twinkled, and he was about to lean in for more when Bodhi yanked him back by the t-shirt.

  “Enough, dude. Let’s go.”

  I stuck my tongue out at them and started the car. “Behave yourselves.”

  “Don't worry...we won’t let the strippers touch him,” Bodhi promised, waggling his eyebrows. “Much.”

  I made a face, hoping they were joking about strippers, and rolled up my window.

  “We should get strippers,” Jen huffed from the backseat. “And take pictures.”

  “I’m down,” said Caroline.

  I snorted, turning around in the driveway. “I'm good, thanks.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little fun,” Mom said, eyeing me. “Aunt Gina got me strippers for my bachelorette party.”

  “Gross. Mom, please.”

  “No, go on, Sharon,” Caroline said. “I want to hear this.”

  We did not, in fact, get strippers (and neither did the boys, as evidenced from Jude's increasingly drunk confessional texts as the night went on), but we did party it up at the hotel bar before going to my villa, where we had a bachelorette slumber party.

  It started with margaritas and went downhill from there, when Ivy whipped out a penis-shaped piñata. I lost it, laughing so hard I started crying. And then we were all giggle-crying, mainly because we were three sheets to the wind, even Amelia and my mom. I was getting married, for God's sake.

  Married.

  ~

  “Alina, wake up! Wake up!” Nora called, shaking me.

  “What time is it?” I mumbled, rubbing my face. I’d fallen asleep in an armchair, in my clothes from the night before, and my neck hurt. Around me, in a sea of ripped wrapping paper, empty glasses, and leftover cake, the girls were waking up, looking as out of it as I felt. In the corner hung the penis piñata, ironically the only un-battered thing in the room, a trophy from our night of debauchery.

  I giggled at it, covering my mouth.

  “Ten. But your hair appointment is at eleven, right?” Nora had been with us for a little while the night before, but she’d gone home early to be with the kids. Good thing, too, because God knew when we’d have gotten up without her.

  “Shit,” I said, struggling to my feet. I was slightly hung over, but hopefully that was nothing a greasy breakfast wouldn't fix. “Lemme just...take a quick shower.”

  Caroline followed me in to the bathroom. “I'm so sorry, girl. I was supposed to be the one keeping things together!”

  “Shh, it's fine, Caroline,” I said, waving her away. Loud noises and voices were painful, at this point. “We'll be fine. Let’s do this.”

  I ended up being five minutes late for my appointment, stuffing an Egg McMuffin down as I walked through the door, but it didn't matter because the hairdresser was running behind, too. Typical for St. Croix; it was called island time for a reason. We went with an elegant, side fishtail braid, with tiny white flowers woven in to it. It was just the look I wanted, and I loved it.

  Afterward, I picked my dress up from Mrs. Hodge, who’d kept it for safekeeping, and then headed back to Carambola, where I met up with the girls for a light lunch at the restaurant. Jen gave me a French mani-pedi while Caroline and Nora did my makeup, and then we all got dressed.

  Something borrowed: diamond stud earrings that had been my grandmother’s. Something blue: my garter, compliments of Caroline.

  Mom, of course, cried when she saw me in my dress while Amelia stood back, taking pictures. The professional photographer had arrived a little while before, to capture behind-the-scenes type moments, but Amelia had been at it since the night before. I cringed, thinking of what last night’s pictures looked like, to be honest.

  And then it was four o’clock. Show time.

  My nerves were at a slow simmer, keeping me in a constant state of butterflies. There was a quiet knock at the door, and then my father walked in, his face pink at the overload of femininity in the room, while we all gushed over his handsomeness.

  “Woah, Mitch!” cried Caroline. “You clean up something fierce.”

  He really did, too. Something like pride crept up and squeezed my heart.

  “Alina,” he said, coming closer. He took my hand, and I kissed his cheek, making sure to rub away the smudge of lipstick.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “You look...” He shook his head, overcome.

  I took a deep breath, and Caroline appeared at my side, delicately dabbing at my eyes so I wouldn’t mess up my makeup.

  “You're beautiful. More than that, but, you know,” he said, clearing his throat. “You ready?”

  “As I'll ever be,” I said, accepting his offered arm.

  We stepped outside, taking our place at the back of the line as the music started. Being so near the ocean had its advantages, like the breeze blowing in off the water, keeping the warmth at bay. I watched, swallowing back the lump in my throat repeatedly, as my best friends walked ahead in matching dresses.

  Then Sydney and Sadie Taylor forged a path for us in petals, and my father and I walked down the aisle, a bamboo runner laid down over the sand.

  And Jude. God, he was gorgeous. Our eyes met, as they had so many times before, and in that second, images from our past flooded me. The first night we’d met, in a busy bar. Exchanging words at the Full Moon party, when he’d tried to scare me off. The countless looks we’d shared when we’d both belonged to someone else, and then the shift when that began to not matter anymore. The look on his face when he’d kissed me for the first time...loved me for the first time...told me he’d loved me, for the first time.

  My father and I paused, and he squeezed my hand tight before giving it over to Jude.

  We stared, caught in each other’s gazes, weighed by the gravity of what we were about to do. His eyes flickered over my dress, and I smiled, which triggered a smile from him, and then we turned to Big Beard, the captain and minister presiding over our wedding.

  ~

  The reception was a whirlwind.

  We danced until our feet hurt. Bubbled over in champagne, toasts, and laughter. Shared a creamy, tiered cake adorned in white chocolate seashells. Jude made me melt when he slow danced with Sadie, only to scandalize me minutes later when he copped a feel during the garter search.

  Caroline and Ivy fought playfully over the bouquet, only to be bested by one of Jude’s cousins, who snatched it right out of their hands.

  By the time Jude and I retired to our villa, a special honeymoon suite right on the water, Jude’s shirt was partly unbuttoned, and I was barefoot, my hair halfway loose. We shared a shower, and drank champagne straight from the bottle, and fell in to bed lightheaded, naked and happy.

  “As much as I liked that dress, I like this better,” he said, dropping wet kisses down the length of my body.

  I shivered, smiling. “I bet you do.”

  He p
aused. “When I saw you today, when you came out with your dad...it was like an out-of-body experience.”

  “Good. That’s what I was going for.” Closing my eyes, I went back to that moment. “I know what you mean, though. When I saw you at the altar, all I could think was…he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

  Our eyes met. He kissed one hipbone, and then the other. I ran my fingers through his damp hair, letting the happy ache in my heart effloresce into a giddy sort of need. He kissed between my legs until I came, and then entered me in a quick thrust, searing my mouth with his.

  “I'm glad you chose me,” he whispered.

  “You were the only choice,” I whispered back, holding his face between my hands.

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  Jude

  I pulled into the gas station and cut the engine, lost in thought.

  Gas...six pack...card...

  Nope. Not enough. She was hurt, yeah, but she was also pissed off, I could tell. Alina was super low key, the opposite of high maintenance, but I’d have to pull out the big guns for this one.

  Sighing heavily, I left the Jeep and went inside to pay, racking my brain. I paid for the gas, grabbed the six pack, and, on a whim, a couple of Snickers bars. I had a feeling she’d want one of those, if nothing else.

  A guy I knew nodded at me as we passed each other, back out by the pumps. I wondered if he’d ever messed up like this. Leaning against the truck, I absently started pumping gas, mind still elsewhere.

  Damn.

  I hadn’t meant to, but...I’d forgotten our first anniversary.

  Two days ago

  Gritting my teeth, I stared down at the mess Midnight had made. Technically, he was no longer a puppy, but sometimes he still acted like one.

  Shit like this really tempted me to just leave him in the backyard overnight, to teach him a lesson. He was Alina’s big, spoiled baby, though. Even if I did punish him, she’d sneak him back inside at some point. Kneeling, I shoveled trash back into the garbage bin. It was everywhere. What the hell had he been looking for?

  Ah, of course. We were eating in bed the other night; the trash smelled like food. You’d swear we never fed this damn dog. I was just about done when something caught my eye, something that had nearly gotten lost beneath the fast food wrappers.

  My breath left me as I pulled out the pregnancy test. What the hell did these lines even mean? Was it two of two or two of three? Why couldn’t they make these things simpler, like a happy face or a thumbs-up or something? I shook my head, going back to the trash ban.

  Yup, there it was. A pink box: First Response.

  My heart was really going full force now. Wiping sweaty palms down my jeans, I looked inside the box, at the balled-up directions. There was another test jammed in there, too, with matching double pink lines.

  Okay. So, unless someone else had been pissing in our bathroom, according to the two of these, Alina was...pregnant.

  We were pregnant.

  Holy Shit.

  My breath came faster and faster, and I kind of freaked out. Not because I didn’t want kids, because I did. What a way to find out, though. I couldn’t understand why she hadn’t told me yet. Back when Nora got pregnant for the first time, she’d texted Eli a picture of her test. I remembered—he’d showed me.

  Had Alina just taken these last night? I thought back to how she’d been acting then, and this morning...nothing had seemed off. But then again, I hadn’t been looking for anything.

  Either way, I was caught off guard. All I could think about was Alina possibly, probably, being pregnant, and not telling me. She wanted to tell me, right? Was she overwhelmed? Did she not want this yet? I’d have hated for her to feel resentful. My head spun.

  I went through most of the day in a daze, operating on autopilot. Our lives were about to change, big time. It was time to buckle down, get ready for this next stage. I wanted to be a Dad…Alina and I had often discussed one day having kids. This was a little earlier than we’d planned for, but that was okay.

  And the more I thought about it, the less worried I was. It would be okay.

  We’d be okay. We’d be great.

  One day ago

  She still hadn’t said anything.

  I was on pins and needles, waiting for her. This wasn’t our style. We didn’t keep things bottled up, play games. Never had. Was she waiting to surprise me?

  Or was she nervous?

  I was off in la-la land, scrubbing down the bar...again...thinking. Endlessly thinking. I’d headed to Larsen’s earlier than usual; neither Maggie nor Ivy could open, so it was kind of a last-minute thing. Alina was scheduled to come in later for her usual shift, so...maybe she’d tell me then.

  Tell me something. Anything.

  She’d been in a funny mood when I’d left today, quiet. No morning sex when I tried to initiate. Said she was tired, which was code for PMS…or...pregnant. Not that I was supposed to know that. I doubt I would have noticed any of this had I not been watching her so closely. And the fact that I wouldn’t have even known had Midnight not trashed the bathroom...it made me a little ill. I felt like Alina was lying to me, lying by omission.

  But she was my wife. My girl. My best friend. She had to have a reason.

  She didn’t notice me notice her sticking to water later, when everyone else was having a beer.

  Today

  I awoke to Alina’s smiling face. It made my stomach feel funny. Excited.

  This is it. She’s gonna tell me.

  “Hey,” I rasped, voice thick with sleep.

  “Hey,” she said, touching my face.

  We gazed at each other, smiling. Then, I noticed the scent of bacon. I glanced down at the breakfast tray, remembering right as she said, “Happy Anniversary, Jude.”

  Panic clutched my heart. Shit, shit, shit! All my stressing and over-thinking and stupidity for the past two days had completely taken my mind off our anniversary. Oh no. No.

  “What’s wrong?” Alina’s face fell. She sat back on her knees. “Did you forget?”

  I paused, shaking my head. I hadn’t forgotten, not really. I’d remembered up until a couple of days ago, when this baby thing threw me for a loop. “No, I…” But I was prevaricating, and we both knew it.

  “You totally did,” she said softly, looking down.

  “Alina...”

  She shook her head and moved away, sliding off the bed. I followed her, right up to the bathroom door, which she closed quietly, but firmly, in my face.

  “Babe, I'm sorry. I didn’t really forget...I’ve had a load of stuff on my mind lately.” I pressed my ear to the door, trying to hear. “Please let me in?"

  Nothing.

  God, what an idiot. Originally, I’d planned to bring her back to the Waves, where we had our first date. Nothing over the top, just special to the two of us. But in the wake of the tidal wave that was Our Baby, I’d forgotten all about making a reservation. I’d been so, so distracted. And that wasn’t like me.

  I knocked softly, antsy with anxiety. We rarely fought. On the other side of the door, the shower went on.

  I scrubbed my hand over my face and turned back to our bed, looking at the food. Alina had made me bacon and eggs, bagels and cut up fruit. I should’ve done this for her, not the other way around. But that was my girl, always taking care of me. I sat down, taking a piece of cantaloupe, wondering if I should just leave, or if I should eat and wait her out. On one hand, I was feeling a little too sheepish and guilty to eat it, but on the other, it would be rude and ungrateful to leave it.

  Eventually, I picked it up and brought it back to the kitchen, where I polished it off. I pulled on a t-shirt, switched sweatpants for jeans, and hit the road.

  And so now there I was, shuffling around a dusty gas station like the clueless asshole that I was, trying to figure out how I could possibly make things up to Alina. A woman across the street was selling fresh fruit, and I loved that, so after looking both ways I jogged ov
er to see what she had.

  Avocado, mango, and little fig bananas.

  “Morning,” I said.

  “Mahnin’,” she replied. “What can I get ya?”

  I pointed out what I wanted, chatting with her while she bagged it. A plastic container sat on the corner of her table, nearly hidden by produce.