Secret Shopper

by Tanya Taimanglo

  Rachel pulled her Gucci sunglasses off her face and squinted at the car. The lone occupant was a Caucasian man with dark sunglasses. “Yeah, that car has a rental sticker.”

  “What?” I was shocked. My Korean family rented a large van, so that should have been the only rental car in the caravan. Rachel and I strained our eyes in the bright sun. As the rest of our party gathered around the fringes of the canopy sweating in the afternoon heat, Rachel and I watched the blue Prius. The unknown visitor parked at the last spot away from the cluster of cars. He didn’t come out and the priest started prayer. Between “Lords” and “Jesus Christ” Rachel and I would glance at the little blue car. No movement. Maybe it was just some random person visiting a relative’s grave. Mom pinched my shoulder when she realized I was staring off into the parking lot and I didn’t rise with the rest of the mourners. That was it. I wasn’t going to dwell on the mystery person who might or might not be Thomas.

  The funeral director, name tag-Hector, passed out white roses to all the mourners. He offered red ones to my family, including Rachel. She glanced at the red rose and then to me and then to the funeral director like he made a mistake. I smiled in confirmation at my one and only sister and Rachel squeezed my hand.

  Before dad’s casket was lowered into the red earth, my mom and I cried a fresh round of tears. Mom was presented with the American flag. She clutched the triangular symbol of my father’s service in the Army and we approached dad’s casket to place our red roses. I plucked a petal from the rose and placed it in my jacket pocket. The pallbearers took their turns in removing their black arm bands. They tied it to the bars of the coffin which was customary. As soft church piano music played on an antiquated tape player, dad was lowered into the shade of his plot. Pharaoh rested his large arm around me and Rachel, with his other arm being used as a brace for my grieving mom.

  The cemetery hands began shoveling dirt onto my dad’s casket, as several mourners walked towards the parking lot to smoke cigarettes. Others conversed quietly in the sun, offering us privacy. It was like someone hit the play button on the remote control and everyone resumed their lives.

  The four of us stood quietly and when we finally sat down, a stream of relatives and family friends approached to console us. I glanced again at the blue Prius and in the time we took to say our final goodbyes, the lone occupant was no longer there. I scanned the green grass peppered with headstones discreetly, between hugs and kisses from relatives. I didn’t see anyone wandering or standing over the other graves. I drew my sights closer to the perimeter around me and then I saw Bradley in the shadow of a man head and shoulders above him. This stranger wore a sky blue cotton long sleeved shirt. The only male here in long sleeves. It was tucked into a pair of black slacks. I scanned to the shoes and saw black leather shoes. It couldn’t be Thomas. I hit Rachel with my elbow and directed her attention towards my ex-husband. She had only seen Thomas in the dark at Pass the Mic back in San Diego. Rachel was mesmerized and I willed this mystery man to turn around.

  “I guess that’s not him, he isn’t sparkling in the Guam sun.” Rachel whispered in to my ear.

  Could it be? My gut told me that I knew this man. I knew in my heart it was Thomas.

  Chapter 17

  A Phoenix is Forever

  When the crowd grew thin and cars began to file out of the cemetery parking lot, Bradley walked over to kiss my mom. My mom showed grace despite her hatred for my ex-husband. Bradley shook his former brother-in-law’s hand cautiously and I was glad Pharaoh kept his bearings. As Bradley took in the sight of my very large brother, his face was comical with a mixture of fear and awe. Bradley used to be the bigger one of the two.

  I looked back at the man Bradley was talking to before. He watched the ocean, his lean back still to me. I stood alone with my ex-husband.

  “How are you, Nix?” Bradley asked. He wore his formal Army uniform and looked like he aged another five years since we divorced.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” I looked back again and Rachel strolled away with the not so-mysterious man. Rachel turned to me, and gave me a huge smile and a wink. I should have chased after them instead of standing here in front of Bradley.

  “I guess you’ve seen who Rachel’s talking to.” Bradley continued. I was relieved that he didn’t want to hash up old memories of dad. I nodded, still not fully grasping the idea that Thomas was on Guam for the second time in his life. The second time in a year. “You know, Thomas is sad for you, but also, I don’t know. I guess he should explain it to you. Needless to say, he’s disappointed.”

  I squared my shoulders, upset that Bradley would try to get involved with a relationship that didn’t exist. “Well, that’s between me and him.” I kept my eyes on the sweaty men filling in my father’s grave. I wondered, irritatingly why they didn’t wait until the family left.

  “You’re right.” I looked up at my ex-husband. I wasn’t used to hearing those words from him and my eyes met his. Bradley rested his hand on my arm. “You’re eulogy was very, um, touching. Take care, Nix.” Bradley’s eyes darted over to Thomas who was now facing us standing in the sun, several yards away. “You’re in good hands.”

  “Thanks, Bradley.” I wanted to hug him one last time, but decided not to. I had been such a jerk to Thomas so far, this would just be another kick in his stomach. I felt Rachel and Thomas’s eyes on me. Dad’s too in a sense. Bradley shook Thomas’s hand and dove into Rachel for a hug. She shoved him roughly and I bit my lips to keep a smile from spreading on my face. Bradley trotted to his parents and Rachel smiled at me and shook Thomas’s hand before leaving. I waved feebly at her.

  Thomas waited outside of the canopy. His profile was tragic as he slumped forward, hands in his pocket. His wild wind-whipped hair looked almost golden in the sun. His dark blue tie was peppered with white designs and it waved rhythmically in the Guam breeze. I approached him slowly, keeping in the shade. He stood in the sun, watching the ocean again. God, he was so beautiful. What did he want with me? What could I offer him but misery? He was this rare exotic bird and I didn’t want him to fly away, so I remained behind my border in the shade.

  “Hello, Thomas.” My voice cracked with emotion. I feared that Thomas would be angry with me. He angled his body towards me, but did not look up. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses. His beautiful lips were downturned. “Thomas, I’m so sorry I didn’t contact you during all this, it’s just that when my dad, uh,” I looked over my shoulder and the men were conveniently on a break, eyes on me. I continued in a whisper, “I was overcome by so much that I didn’t think it was right to drag you into my world.”

  “Phoenix.” Thomas looked at me completely now, my name sounding so odd in his pained voice. Shame overwhelmed me and I hid behind my sunglasses. Finally, Thomas moved into the shade inches from my body. He slowly removed the funeral program and my clutch purse from my hands and placed the items on a chair. He took my hands in his and didn’t say anything for a few minutes. His hands were warm, his body emanated heat and a delicious musk mingled with his cologne. I became heady and I swear the ground shifted beneath me. I continuously kept Thomas on the outside, and even now, after he traveled on a whim to be with me in my time of grief—I couldn’t just say what he longed for. I want you.

  I began to sob despite myself. How I wished my dad was still alive to meet Thomas. He wrapped me with his body, lightly and maintaining a small distance between us. He let me cry as he rocked me side to side slowly.

  My head and arms rested on his chest and my hands were balled into fist maintaining the barrier between us. Why couldn’t I just let him in? Even now? As I watched the last car leave, with Pharaoh and mom and Rachel, I thought of my father and the many things he didn’t get to experience. That family trip to South Korea we were always talking about but never took. The unfinished projects around the house that dad stockpiled materials for. The family tree album he started, but left incomplete for the last ten years mostly because Pharaoh and I didn’t s
how enough interest.

  I finally reached both arms around Thomas and held on tight. Now was all I had. Now was all anyone ever had. My dad had a career, a wife and children. He got to see retirement. He walked his daughter down the aisle, for the wrong guy unfortunately. He saw his son finally find his calling. But, he didn’t see his grandchildren, and he didn’t see his daughter happy, truly fulfilled. As I held Thomas, I wasn’t sure if my words could make up for the self-made rift I created over these last three months. I moved my ear to the left side of his chest. I wanted to find solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat. Thomas jerked backward like I burned him. In an instant we were apart again. He stood out in the sun and I remained in the cool of the shade alone. He looked down at his chest, hand wavering over his heart. I heard the cemetery workers shuffle away behind me, finally giving us privacy. I was about to be dumped even before I had Thomas’s heart.

  “I’m sorry, Thomas.” I guess this was his chance to let me have it. He never really lost his cool with me, but I knew I deserved it. I mean, his physical reaction now was to push me away. How could I be the great love of his life, if I wasn’t even a good friend to him? I raised my face to Thomas expecting him to be glowering at me. I squinted my eyes in preparation for the onslaught of hateful words. Instead, Thomas was loosening his tie. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt. What the hell was he doing? We were at a cemetery and my dad, rest in peace, was technically in the area.

  Thomas, looking like a hotter Clark Kent, stepped towards me again and pulled his shirt open to reveal the left side of his chest. There was an eight by eight white gauze loosely taped on his flawless ivory skin.

  “What happened?” I asked frantically. “Don’t tell me you were saving another damsel in distress.” I joked. Was he shot? Stabbed?

  Thomas pushed his sunglasses off his face finally. His beautiful iridescent eyes looked weary, maybe from the traveling and jet lag—but I suspected it was because of me. He shook his head no and gingerly peeled off the tape. I’m not sure what compelled me to take over, but I stepped up to Thomas, his chest level with my eyes.

  “May I?” I asked Thomas. He removed my sunglasses carefully before allowing me to be Nurse Betty. It was like I was in the Twilight Zone. What kind of injury could he have under this gauze? The sci-fi part of my brain fantasized that Thomas was from an alien planet and now that he declared his love for me, this thing was going to bust out of his chest and take over my body. That would explain his otherworldly beauty, I mused.

  As I peeled back the bandage, the skin underneath was shiny. Was it a burn? I continued to unveil what looked like blood. But this wound had a distinct pattern, an art to it. I dare say, it looked like his skin was aflame. Thomas did not move, his eyes remained on my face. It was like he awaited my reaction. On Thomas’s chest, right over his heart was a vibrant Phoenix. My mouth dropped open as I gazed at this fresh tattoo.

  “When? Why?” I looked at Thomas like he was crazy. Did the airlines have a tattoo parlor on the plane that I didn’t know about? My eyes returned to the beautiful red firebird.

  “Well, when? The day before Rachel called me. Why? Because. Phoenix Rose Lizama.” Thomas lifted my chin so I could meet his gray eyes. “I love you.” I let his words sink into my brain and travel through my body. He stood there looking both beautiful and vulnerable. He just branded himself for me and I was hesitating like an idiot, yet again.

  The warm breeze whipped around me and it felt like the forces that be were nudging me forward. I took a hesitant step towards this glorious man. Thomas’s hands remained relaxed by his side. His palms faced towards me, begging me, reassuring me that it was okay to make that leap of faith. I looked up into his eyes and the tears that rolled down his beautiful face was enough confirmation for me.

  I bridged the small gap between us quickly and took Thomas’s tragic angelic face in my hands. I pressed my lips tentatively to his. Thomas’s desire surged and he swept me up off the ground and pulled me into him. He seemed unaware of the pain on his chest now. Our lips, hungry, continued to discover each other in the balmy paradise weather. My senses were heightened and I took in the heat of his face, the warmth of his tongue and his flavor mingled with the salty ocean air made me light-headed. We came up for air twice before reality got the better of me. I felt like jelly as we continued to embrace. Finally, was my only thought. At last, I opened up and Thomas was true. That kiss was a fantasy turn reality.

  “Finally.” Thomas whispered, echoing my thoughts. “So, Phoenix,” his voice was husky and dripping with desire. “Did I have to fly all the way to Guam to make you realize that I love you?”

  “No, Thomas. The tattoo helps though.” I joked. “And, just so you know my mom almost named me Piranha.”

  He chuckled, “Glad she chose wisely.”

  I kept off Thomas’s freshly scarred chest this time. I turned to face him again. He deserved to hear what I was about to say, instead of just having my kiss, a damn good kiss admittedly, declare my feelings. I made a space between us to look up into his eyes. “I, I love you too, Thomas. It was always there, but I was too chicken shit to tell you. I’m sorry.”

  “Hey,” Thomas soothed me with his voice. “You don’t have to apologize. I was all ready to offer my condolences, then chew you out like a jilted lover. But, after the way you just kissed me?” Thomas teased, and I smiled despite myself.

  “You did some in return too mister, but we should get going.” I had to remind myself that we were in a cemetery and dad was only several feet away from us. I also didn’t want my mom to think I was kidnapped or something. “Nice touch on renting the blue Prius, by the way.”

  “I can be dramatic too.” He smiled.

  Thomas buttoned up his shirt after I reapplied his bandage, which he made tough between kisses. I helped him with his tie and after a few more kisses, I gathered my things and invited Thomas back to the church social hall.

  “Phoenix. Your eulogy was beautiful.” I hadn’t realized that Thomas was in the crowd. “Would you mind if I pay my respects to your dad?” I smiled at my new man. Why was he so perfect? Did I really get to keep him? I nodded and Thomas handed me the car keys. I walked slowly, willing myself to keep moving forward and give my dad and Thomas their privacy. I sat in the warm car and immediately blasted the air conditioner. I saw Thomas in the distance, kneeling with his head down. A new bittersweet bud blossomed in my chest and my eyes teared up. If I had just opened my heart faster, Thomas would have met my father properly. I guess things have to work out in their own time. But, I felt like my dad lost out somehow in knowing such a good hearted man. Someone like him.

  As Thomas made his way back to the car, I took my hair down, which was now in nice waves. I reapplied all my make-up. The humidity on Guam was a killer. I made up my mind that before I left Guam, I was going to make my commitment to Thomas more permanent. I didn’t have the energy to figure out how yet. The blackness of the day had shifted to bright white. I wondered if it was possible for my heart to suffer whiplash. It was all so melodramatic for me that the day I buried my father, was the day I admitted my love for Thomas.

  Chapter 18

  He Loves Me, He Really Loves Me

  My eyes flickered from Thomas’s wonderful profile to his chest. I didn’t know where to start, how to ask. As usual, Thomas made it easy for me. He turned up the cold air, held my hand and drove slowly back to the church.

  “How are you doing with all this Phoenix?”

  “I’m okay, I guess. I’m sorry, Thomas. Sorry for being a terrible friend.”

  “Stop that!” His raised voice surprised me and I wanted to pull my hand away, but he held it firm. “Please, Phoenix. You are my best friend. You are everything. No more apologies. Let’s just be.”

  I leaned into Thomas, which was easy in the tiny hybrid. “Just be?”

  “Yes, Phoenix. And we don’t have to make any official announcements about us. Not today. I don’t want you stressing about that.” He kissed my forehead as we pull
ed into the packed parking lot. There was still a good number of people at the church. Thomas hopped out of the car and opened my door. If he was jetlagged he hid it well. We walked hand in hand to the social hall for the reception. Thomas’s released my hand as we reached the double doors. A rush of longing overcame me and I gave Thomas a quick kiss. Energized by his presence, we opened the doors together. I targeted my mom right away and made a bee line for her table.

  Thomas was concerned that Bradley and his family might be put off or feel disrespected if I walked into the merienda with him, hand in hand. Thomas told me that Rachel would have explained to Pharaoh and my mom about him.

  Thomas walked with me. All eyes in the room were on us. I didn’t realize that I held my breath until we finally reached my family and I exhaled.

  “Mom, Pharaoh, Imo, this is my, um, this is Thomas Roberts. He came in from San Diego to be here.” I kept my hands crossed in front of me like I was about to get scolded by my mom. I could already feel the eyes of my Korean aunt, my Imo, burning into me.

  “Oh, Thomas! Nice to meet you. Thank you so much for coming today.” My mom was absolutely polite, her grammar flawless this time. And was she swaying as she spoke? Rachel dwarfed by Pharaoh’s bigness looked ridiculous with her giant smile. She was practically dancing in her seat. Pharaoh looked like he was ready to pounce on Thomas. He stood slowly and walked towards us. Tension rippled around the table. Thomas remained relaxed and as handsome as ever.

  Pharaoh extended his large tan, tatted arm to Thomas. My brother’s white shirt rested on the chair and he was in a white wife beater—always hated that term for the tank top. He leaned in and asked, “Thomas Roberts, as in T.P.R.?” Thomas smiled and nodded to affirm that he was indeed T.P.R. Pharaoh then pulled Thomas to his body and they did the man hug. “Nice to meet you bro.” And I saw Thomas flinch when my brother made contact with his new tattoo, his first tattoo.