Fire In The Water

by Janice Ross

  I initially sat across from the table in silence. One by one, her words drifted through my mind. I wasn’t sure how to react because Zach was gone. Yet, a part of him remained, not for me but for the stranger sitting across from me and his parents who might've never wanted me in their son's life. Having grown up to believe I would always hold a part of him, an odd kind of emotion swept through me. In this moment, I was flooded with anger. And no, Zachary wasn't the receiver, neither this poor woman bawling her eyes out in front of me, and certainly not the child.

  I was pissed beyond anything else in this world because my mother's words had been proven. If only I'd listened back then. I should've found myself outside of Zachary Marlowe a long time ago.

  LI.

  Rhys

  ~

  I was not above proving myself, even when there was nothing to prove. Ever since the day Chanel met Maggie and found out she’d had a child with Zach, the past week had been unbearable. Sure, I'd allowed her space, but no way in hell was I about to allow the past to overshadow this thing we had going on.

  At midday, sitting outside of Chanel’s office, I noticed a pair of toned, caramel legs extending from the doorway. My insides sunk. She was seriously wearing a full, bone-colored suit with matching stilettos and a hint of red accessory. As she drew her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose, our eyes connected.

  "You're killing me," I mouthed. No need to speak up. She knew damn well what she was capable of doing to me.

  My fierce princess sashayed over, taking the time to step around anyone who my lingered in her path. And it felt like a lifetime. I wanted to throw the door open, rush to her, and fall to my knees.

  "You didn't have to come by," she said. I sensed somewhat of a distant ring to her words.

  "Baby, the last time I touched you was one week ago." Stepping out of the back seat, I stretched my feet and removed the sunglasses. "One week."

  "I'm sorry," she replied just above a whisper before leaning forward to rest the side of her forehead to my chest. I even made note of the way her fingers cascaded along the shadows of her face.

  "I don't like where this is going." I wanted to take her by the shoulders and force her to accept the past. Hell, the entire line of bullshit was only meant to rattle our world...only if we let it.

  "I don't either, Rhys. I felt that I needed to confront the past in order to move forward with you." Her fingers tightly squeezed my wrists like she was begging me to save her from an unknown abuser. "This joker made an ass out of me for God knows how long. You can't imagine how irrelevant I feel. I flaunted a relationship that was one-sided. Do you know what that does to a woman?"

  "To a woman? Dammit, Chanel, to a person." Redirecting my fingers to grip her wrists, I held on. "To hell with the past. That shit should mean nothing to you because it means even less to me."

  "How about we keep those as reference points? They've become lessons in how to live. " As the sentence ended, she puckered up into a mischievous grin. "That shit has nothing on you, not a damn thing." She wiggled just enough to loosen the connection.

  Along the sidewalk, shadows whisked by. Though I wasn’t entirely sure if we were drawing attention, I shut off any distraction beyond the one in front of me. She made every area of my twisted world seem relevant once more. There was nothing in the world that could turn me off from us.

  We'd gone through highs and fought up from the lows. We’d challenged the elements individually to eventually form a union. I didn't give a damn what else lay ahead. As long as she was there with me, the journey we took would always be worthwhile.

  LII.

  Chanel

  ~

  A faint breeze rode the empty area where Rhys had been sleeping. I ran my fingers alone the pillow. It helped to imagine him there because this spot was now legitimately his.

  Since we'd finally allowed our emotions to follow the path of a real relationship, I've been moving on a natural high. As I rolled from one end of the queen-sized bed to the other, my lips twitched. I smiled. By the time I stopped, every muscle in my face tingled.

  I. Was. Happy.

  I'm not talking about the kind of feeling where things seem just okay. My new type of happiness was sparked by contentment. So, I cupped my hands over my face and inhaled.

  Three seconds later, I exhaled.

  I've always had a thing for Egyptian cotton sheets. The soft coral fabric hugged my body in a way that reminded me of Rhys' tight hold. Light golden drapes kept just enough sunlight from bursting into the room. The effects warmed my soul.

  I spun my legs off of the bed to sit up. A folded piece of paper caught my attention. Reaching for the wooden end table, I flipped open a scribbled note.

  Wear something nice. I'll be back by two.

  I tipped up onto my toes and twirled around. Once again, I inhaled through my nose and exhaled from my mouth. The room was cozy. Earth tone throws, decorative pillows and a cream colored Victorian chair settled my soul. My favorite item, however, happened to be a goddess chaise made for a queen. Between the easy thoughts of satisfaction and the outer peace surrounding me, I couldn't help but smile.

  My cellphone buzzed from the opposite side of the room. I raced over, while my hair flew out of a knotted bun.

  "Hellooo," I sang.

  "Hello beautiful," Rhys blew into the line. "I went for a run, but I have some business to take care of."

  "Okay," I replied.

  "Baby, I realized something this morning."

  "What's that?"

  "Chanel, our lives have exploded and cooled out. In the midst of the hurt, we've managed to find comfort in one another."

  I hung onto his words. My head pumped up and down, repeatedly. "Yes," I proclaimed, just above a whisper.

  "Outside of the drama of our past, I need you to know..." His words faded to a breeze I could almost taste through the line. "I'm not about to lose you. Chanel, please know this."

  "I'm not going anywhere either," I quickly assured. My fingers gripped the phone.

  "Everything and everyone I've ever cared about has come back around to disappoint me. I don't want that for us."

  I tossed my head left to right. I knew he couldn't see this, but I felt what he was laying out.

  "Baby, I realized something."

  "What's that?" I asked without hesitating, although I swiped at a single teardrop on my cheek.

  "We haven't truly taken the time to build a foundation. We haven't worked on us. I'm talking about the us outside of the drama."

  "And we can."

  "We will. To hell with Maggie and Zach and their twisted existence in our lives. Baby, I'm going to sort out some things, and then pick you up."

  "Okay," I mouthed right before we ended the call.

  As I busied myself with tidying up and making the bed, Rhys' words replayed in my mind. I wanted and needed to step outside of the darkness. For as long as I can remember, I'd nestled myself into the stormy embrace of a fictitious world. I was now over every bit of that past.

  ~

  "Mal!" I called out from my threshold. The hallways lit up and Brutus' quick steps grew closer.

  "What's going on?" she asked, reaching down to unhook the straps from her sandals. Her hair formed the most adorable chignon. A gray skirt suit reminded me that she was about more than celebrity parties and fun.

  "You had to work today, on a Saturday?" Although work was common, professional gear wasn't always.

  "Oh my goodness, Chanel!" She flopped against the wall. Brutus sniffed at her feet, then nudged her legs. "Who schedules an interview with a politician on a Saturday? I had to be there first thing this morning, and he wanted to have brunch."

  "That's the job you chose, Mal."

  "I don't think so, hun. My specialty happens to be ballers and musicians."

  "So why did they set this up?"

  "My boss wants me to broaden my scope. Seriously, those were her exact words."

  I turned away from the door. Mal followed. Brutus
raced into the room to leap onto my bed.

  "You're going out?" Mal strolled over to a red dress I'd laid out on a chair next to the window. "Is this new?"

  "Yes and no." I winked. "Rhys is taking me out."

  "It's about time."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Other than him screwing your brains out, have you guys gone out on an official date yet?"

  Before I could answer her question, the doorbell went off. Brutus took off. Mal now followed her nosey dog.

  In all honesty, I hadn't given much thought to this dating thing. It almost seemed like the countless encounters with Rhys were our moments to connect and learn. I'd seen his vulnerable side before the normal parts ever appeared. I knew his hurt before his pleasures ever came to life.

  After racing over to the chair, I rushed into the dress. It kinda felt like I wasn't me at all. My inner self somehow stepped outside to stare down at me. I could almost imagine the silly grin across my face and the hopeful lines that were probably displayed on my forehead.

  "This is you, baby." I knew the voice. The words were in line with his usual compliments.

  I spun around to see him, my Rhys. He wore a classic khaki with white button down. I ran into his arms.

  "Where are we going?"

  "You'll see."

  "Mal said something I hadn't thought about before."

  "What's that?"

  I stepped back. With the added space between up, I got a better view of his profile. Those stunning gray eyes and kissable lips called out to me. I trailed my fingers along his collarbone and arm, aware of the tattoo I was growing accustomed to.

  "We haven't officially gone out on our first date yet." I fake pouted.

  Rhys let out a hefty laugh. Within a second, he'd forced me to his chest again. For several seconds, we stood in silence. The only words to penetrate our space were the inner thoughts neither revealed. While I focused on the man breathing down heavily onto the top of my head, I captured the steady flow of his cologne.

  "You know, I was thinking the same thing earlier, so I planned something."

  "But aren't you going to ask me to go out with you, or is chivalry dead?" I batted my eyelashes. From behind us, paw-steps filled the hallway once more.

  "Chanel Bissett, will you go out with me?" he asked, taking hold of my fingers. His lips rested in the center of my hand.

  I nodded. "You have this way of doing things to me outside of the bed that make me think of us inside of the bed."

  "Only in the bed?" he quickly came for me.

  "You guys are too much!" Mal screeched from behind us. This gave Brutus the opportunity to run wild. "I don't know why I picked him up. He's too much." She commented on the wild and free-spirited Brutus.

  "Kinda like someone I know," I quickly threw out.

  "In any case, you guys have fun." She nodded at us. "And Chanel, you deserve this." Mal then winked at Rhys before heading down the hallway.

  "Am I missing something?" I glanced up into his eyes. He fed on me with a fierce stare. God, I knew that look too well.

  "Baby, it's all about you. Let's go."

  "Wait a second, Rhys. Did you and Mallory plan something?"

  "Come on, sexy. Clear your mind and focus on all this good loving coming your way." Those words, coming from his mouth had me convinced. Wherever we were going, Mallory was at the center of things.

  So I gathered up a pair of golden sandals and matching purse, turned off the bedroom light and proceeded to shoot a death stare at Mal. My girl stood in her doorway with the biggest grin across her face.

  LIII.

  Rhys

  ~

  I'd forgotten how to do the romance thing. When your relationships consisted of mild hook ups, at best, romance wasn't something to aspire to. When I'd woken up this morning with Chanel in my arms, I wanted more. This was different. Always had been from the day we'd first met. As I'd prepared to leave out, her friend gave me some pointers.

  Mallory had said that Chanel had a thing for high fashion and art. She'd insisted I take her to a historic exhibit at the Guggenheim, followed by dinner at Grazie, off of Madison Avenue. The museum wasn't really my thing, although my mom had a habit of getting lost in there on occasion. All the same, Mal insisted on this specific spot and that exhibit.

  I'd decided to have Jeff drive us. Rupert hadn't reached out to me since the big blow up. Lisle had shut off communication as well. Part of me wanted to feel badly, while the other part felt like detaching altogether. They were still family.

  As we rolled to the front of the Guggenheim, Chanel gasped. "Am I dressed enough? Or am I overdressed? Rhys, why didn't you tell me?" Her eyes twinkled like a kid in the candy store.

  "Your first time here?"

  "Yeah," she replied in what was meant to be a calmer tone. "They always have these amazing displays, but no one ever wanted to come with me."

  "Never thought about getting away by yourself?" As soon as the words came out, the glistening light from her pupils dulled. I squeezed her palm with one hand and laid my other hand on her thigh. "Let's go and take a look."

  Since this was her day, I stood back and allowed Chanel to get lost. When she needed me, I was there. Truthfully, I've never seen someone so moved by the simple things most took for granted. Images of life and the space we'd occupied never held substance, until her excitement gave meaning.

  "Rhys, do you see this?" Chanel turned on her heels. Although we weren't the only ones in the bright white space with neatly positioned displays, she owned the room.

  God, she moved me unlike anything else in this world.

  "Baby," I blew next to her ear, where a few tendrils had spun out of her updo. "I only see you."

  In the usual way, she drew into my chest. We were a perfect match, standing in front of a large picture frame with a bright white canvas and a small, multicolored photo. She rambled on about the warmth radiating from the image, and how this piece represented a fresh way of experiencing the struggles of life. Directly behind it stood a similar colored object, about three feet away. What I saw as nothing more than a distorted object, possibly made of brass, she saw as life. Every object before us was just that, a material thing.

  "You're not listening to me, Rhys," she whined.

  "I am, I promise."

  "Then what did I just say?" She pushed a leg off to the side. This changed persona took me back to the day she'd slapped me.

  "Do you remember the first time we met?"

  "No way, you're not getting off that easy." Before she could protest further, I adjusted her in front of the picture.

  "Don't move... Don't say a word..." I tapped my pointer and middle fingers to my lips.

  She batted her eyes, moving only her neck along a quick line. Although the building had many others in circulation, I wanted to believe we mattered the most. Every inch of me yearned for this bronze beauty standing in front of me. I took a wide step backwards to examine her, similar to how she'd been studying the picture only moments ago.

  She giggled.

  My goddess...empress...giver of life and lover of my soul shifted her body to the side. From this angle, the light fixtures from above and the white walls made Chanel a work of art. Her lips held a puffy sensuality forged in Heaven. With just a touch of an almost earth tone gloss to match her eyelids, she wore perfection well.

  As I prepared to run my fingers along every part of her not covered by the red dress, I found my aha moment. The stunning, upright object in the photo had to be no more than six inches tall, but it was perfect. An object similar to the one from the picture seemed to crawl from behind the column holding the artwork. Several feet away, the same image posed. It was nearly triple the size, with defined ridges. This staging continued on for about a half dozen manifestations.

  "Do you get it, Rhys?" she cried out. Her hands squeezed my cheeks. She yanked me down to meet her, and her lips pressed into mine. Five seconds later, we pulled apart. "Do you get it?"

  The museum wa
sn't necessarily the best place to have a moment like this, with the exception of the artistic epiphany. I didn't give a damn about anyone else browsing through the exhibitions. For me, this time with Chanel was all I needed to be complete.

  "The picture will always show what's perfect. Away from that, reality only becomes more distorted and flawed," I stated, grinning down at her.

  "And?"

  "I think it might also represent those things we shed in the process, but in reverse."

  "You were listening," she whispered.

  Chanel's fire had taken hold of me. And although life had made every attempt to drown my spirit and fight, the connection between us was too powerful. I saw us in the artist's take on this work. A tag rested just above the canvas: Fire in the Water.

  The image was of a flame refusing to die while moving from one spot to the next - through the journey of life. The top portion of the flame hung sideways like wet hair. The fight became real to me. The struggle of a determined person will never fully die. Sure, there will be trying forces similar to the water. It's life. And though your fire might dwindle along the way, your core will remain strong.

  THE END!

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  Janice G. Ross’ Bio

  Janice was born in Guyana, South America and migrated to the USA in 1980. Although her citizenship certificate now reads the United States of America, she considers herself a citizen of the world. Sure, she has not physically been around the world and back, but she’s traveled in her mind and dreams.

  Janice enjoys reading and is drawn to stories with distinct characters that she can love or hate, characters she can form alliances with or characters that she can swear off and despise. She is also weak for a good cultural tale, preferably in the form of historical fiction. Janice loves to be taken off guard by clever language and settings.