Auctioned to Him

  “Don’t worry, no one I’ve dove with has died yet.”

  He’s joking, of course, trying to put me at ease. I laugh, but I don’t find it funny.

  22

  By the time we start the long walk to the runway, I am ready to chicken out. I want to run away and cry and stomp my feet. But I am too embarrassed to quit. It was all my idea, and now, finally, Gatsby seems genuinely excited. The plane is parked on the runway, and I walk up the staircase well aware of the fact that the only reason I am still going through with this is that I’m too afraid not to. And that’s an awful reason!

  The door to the plane locks behind me, shutting out the outside world. I am sitting next to Gatsby. He takes my hand. He is so excited; his eyes are twinkling in anticipation. No one seems to notice that this airplane looks like it’s a cargo plane from a third world country. The seats are metal benches. There are no seat belts to buckle. The windows are tiny and covered in dead bugs.

  We take off. My heart starts to race. My throat closes up. Gatsby starts to push and tug on me, connecting all our straps together. He makes me sit on his lap and buckles us closer together. But I am in a daze. I barely pay attention. The world is closing in around me. I want to escape. I need someone to open the door to let in some air.

  Soon enough, at about 30,000 feet, my wish is their command.

  “Ready?” someone yells. The door opens.

  “Woo-hooo!” Wyatt screams as he and his partner jump.

  Gatsby scoots across the bench. I am helpless to resist. Now that the door is open I don’t want go. Cold air rushes in, and the sound that it makes frightens me. I don’t watch Logan go. I take a deep breath and try to focus my mind. This isn’t normal. This is crazy. Outrageous. Why the hell did I ever suggest this?

  My mind is racing so fast; it’s impossible for me to keep my breath still. I try to take a full breath of air, but my lungs contract. I try again, but even less air gets in.

  “You ready?” Gatsby asks. He is scooting toward the opening. I am sitting on his lap and have no leverage to resist.

  “No!” I scream. But he laughs.

  “C’mon, it going to be awesome!”

  * * *

  We jump.

  It’s not so much of a jump as a tumble. A gust of wind hits me like a ton of bricks. We start falling to the earth at hundreds of feet per second.

  It should feel like flying, but it doesn’t. Wind is gushing passed me, forcing my mouth open and filling my cheeks with cold air. My cheeks and the skin on my face is flapping around as if it were fabric. The air is so cold my teeth hurt.

  I feel air pushing us out toward the sky even though we are getting closer and closer to the earth.

  And then suddenly, there’s a jolt.

  We stop rushing all together. The parachute above our heads is open and filled with air. Now, we are gliding toward earth. Barely moving.

  “How was that?” Gatsby asks.

  “Awesome! Amazing!”

  “I knew you’d like it.” He laughs. He steers the parachute with his hands and hands me the controls.

  We are still falling, but it no longer feels like falling. It feels like we’re gliding. There’s no air rushing past me anymore. A wave of relief sweeps over me as blood starts to circulate within me.

  I lose all track of time as we glide above the earth. Mountains hug the horizon and frame the valleys below. A small, winding line cutting through the valley is the highway we drove on. The tiny moving spots on the line are the cars.

  The road is so insignificant from above. The cars are barely the size of ants. I find it hard to believe that there are people in them. Being so high makes me think about perspective. The people back on earth barely register as creatures, and it’s difficult to consider them as fellow creatures. Being so high makes me feel as if I am separated from them, somehow. As if I am not one of them. Like I am someone higher and more important. It’s a dangerous thought. And an irresponsible one.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Gatsby yells into my ear.

  “Yes!”

  The mountains are getting closer to us and more majestic. I can now make out the trees. The pines are thick, and many are more than seventy feet tall. From up here, they appear like matchsticks.

  * * *

  When my feet get close to the ground, the earth reaches up and pulls me in. A new wave of adrenaline surges through my veins.

  Gatsby quickly disengages our harness. We embrace before it hits the ground. He throws his arms around my shoulders and brings my face to him. I feel the warmth of the sun on my eyelids as I kiss his lips. Tears of exhilaration and relief are building behind my eyes. I kiss him harder to try to keep them at bay.

  But before we get too lost in the moment, somebody collides into us.

  I open my eyes.

  It’s Wyatt and Atticus. They are slapping us on our backs. Gatsby pulls away from me and shakes his brothers’ hands.

  But quickly, as if on a second thought, the chaste and reserved handshakes that they exchange morph into something more. They all start to laugh and hug each other.

  Everyone’s riding a high, which we carry with us into lunch. We continue to smile and laugh and joke around well into the main course. During a brief moment of reflection, while they order a third round of drinks, I realize how different these people are from the ones I met yesterday.

  Last night, I saw three brothers who did not have much in common with one another. They were strangers, but even worse than that. They knew each other and chose not to spend time together. They carried a hatred and contempt for one another, the likes of which I only saw once before.

  But today, the three men who sit before me are no longer afraid of each other. They do not have regrets, resentments, or hatred for one another. They are smiling, laughing, and joking around. Their worlds aren’t divided. Instead, they are connected.

  “Hey, do you remember that camping trip we went on in high school?” Atticus turns to Gatsby.

  “The one you almost didn’t come back from?” Gatsby jokes. “Atticus decided to climb a giant boulder somewhere in Utah. It was perfectly smooth. Hardly a groove to hold onto.”

  “I got up there just fine,” Atticus cuts in.

  “Yeah, that was pretty impressive,” Wyatt admits. “Gatsby and I could barely get a few feet off the ground.”

  “As it turned out, that was the easy part.” Atticus shrugs.

  “Why? What happened?” I ask.

  “He got all the way to the top but then couldn’t get down,” Gatsby says.

  “He was up there for close to an hour trying to get down,” Wyatt explains. “The boulder was about twenty feet or so high.”

  “Oh my god, I can’t believe I survived that.” Atticus laughs and shakes his head. I still don’t know what happened.

  “Me too. Getting away with a broken foot was lucky,” Wyatt adds.

  “You broke your foot?” I ask.

  “Yep. I couldn’t really climb down because it was so smooth and it was getting dark. So I just grabbed onto the top and tried to ease myself down. But that didn’t work out too well. I fell and broke my foot. I thought it was a sprain at first, but the doc in the emergency room confirmed it.

  “But that’s not even the really impressive part. What was really amazing was what these two guys did for me.”

  “Oh please,” Gatsby cuts in. “What did you want us to do? Just leave you there?”

  Atticus turns to me. “I couldn’t really walk, so they basically carried me all the way back to the car. It was like ten miles up and down really steep terrain.”

  “You did?” I ask them. They smile and nod but look a bit embarrassed.

  “Man, that was fun,” Wyatt jokes. “I had no idea you were such a lard ass!”

  “Yeah, I know. He was so fucking heavy, wasn’t he?” Gatsby adds.

  They continue to make jokes, and through the laughter, I can see that they were both happy to do it. The incident tied them to each other, connecting
them in a way only adversity can. We all clink our glasses to that night. Taking a sip, I realize that this is how brothers should be.

  23

  Gatsby doesn’t know this yet, but I know what it’s like to not talk to your siblings. My sisters, and I don’t speak, and I am familiar with the distance and the wide space that it can create between you and your childhood. There are so many memories that connect these people.

  You can’t imagine your childhood without them. They are the only ones who truly understand how crazy your parents are. So when you are grown, and you don’t speak or don’t have a relationship with them, it is as if these memories and emotions and feelings are shelved. Boxed. Put away in a safe. Locked in some room without a key.

  Looking at Gatsby laughing and carrying on with his brothers, I start to really miss my sisters. I want us to have a reconciliation or, at least, a conversation. All the things that I am mad at them for, all of our arguments, now seem so insignificant. I try to remember the details, but even those are vague.

  I have two sisters. The three of us used to be very close, but then we started to grow apart in high school. When our mom got sick, we came together again. We all came to visit, and in the end, the three of us practically lived there. Our dad left when I was two, and my sisters were five and seven, so it was just the three of us in the end. But then, after the funeral, things fell apart again.

  We lead different lives in different cities. After mom’s death, we promised that we would call and email, but quickly reverted to our old ways. I called too much and got mad when they didn’t return my calls. They got mad when I didn’t send them any gifts for their birthdays and holidays.

  We all had our excuses. They said that they texted and emailed instead of called. I said that I didn’t have any money to buy groceries let alone gifts. We were all wrong.

  We promised to meet up for the holidays, but when one cancelled so did the other one. Old resentments crept in and took the place of the love that we had once felt for one another.

  But now, seeing Gatsby with his brothers, I have an overwhelming urge to call them. To try to make things right. Maybe even take them sky diving.

  Back at the lodge, Gatsby goes downstairs to the business center to get some work done. Only this place would have a business center in the middle of the wilderness! I have an hour to myself and I decide to take a bath. I haven’t taken a bath in ages, and I’ve never taken one in a bathroom like this!

  The space is bigger than my apartment back home. The toilet is sequestered to one side, and the rest of the space is taken up by the spacious two, or even three, person shower and the giant claw foot tub. There’s a floor-to-ceiling window looking outside into the setting sun. The pines look like they are hanging their heads, kneeling before the sun.

  Somewhere in the distance, I see a small round creature rolling across the horizon. I lean in closer and block my eyes from the harshness of the sun.

  It’s a bear!

  Oh my god! I can’t believe my eyes. A bear? A real bear!

  For some inexplicable reason, I turn off the water to see better. When I look up again, the bear is closer, and now I am certain. Except that it’s not just one bear. There is a little one and the big one right next to him. They are wandering across the grasses in front of the window, going from one section of the forest to another.

  The cub makes a summersault. And then another one! His mother looks back at him patiently and waits. I can almost see her rolling her eyes and laughing to herself! I can’t believe that I am privy to this! It is amazing! I’m astounded!

  When they finally disappear into the other patch of pine trees on the other side, I sit on the edge of the bathtub in awe.

  Eventually, I come back to my senses. I turn the water back on. Then I remember that my iPad is in the other room. I turn off the water again, wrap myself in my bathrobe, and head out to retrieve it. I need to take my mind off of everything that’s happened today. And there’s no better cure than to watch something mindless to space out in the bath.

  I thought that the iPad would be in the main bedroom, but it isn’t. I can’t remember the last time I used it, but it must be in my bag, which is the dining room.

  In the living room, I hear voices.

  Someone is shouting. Who can that be? I thought I was alone. I look around and see that the double doors to the porch are slightly open.

  Atticus is on the porch, talking on the phone. He is pacing, walking from one side of the porch to the other in a circle. He is waving his arms around as if he’s trying to convince someone of something. As if the person on the other end can see him.

  I’ve never seen him like this. Wyatt seemed like the more exuberant and excitable brother to me. Atticus was always calmer, more collected.

  He’s facing away from me, so I can’t really make out what he’s saying. I don’t know what comes over me, but for some unknown reason I take a few steps closer to the door.

  Suddenly, his words become clearer.

  “I don’t know what you want me to do,” he yells into the phone. “I’m only going to get the money when the IPO goes through.”

  “That’s all I can do,” he says after a moment.

  “Okay, okay, I know. Yes, I know the juice is running. But I can’t get the money from anywhere else. If you want me to pay you a few grand at a time, yes. But not if you want the whole thing. Do you want me to pay you a few grand at a time?”

  “No? I didn’t think so!

  “I don’t understand what you don’t understand. The only way I can pay is after the IPO.”

  I take a step forward, and the floorboards creak. Shit! I walk away from the double doors and grab my iPad.

  “Annabelle?” Atticus says, walking into the room.

  “Oh hey.” I avoid eye contact with him and pretend that I didn’t hear a word.

  “Agh, girlfriends, they’re impossible. Am I right?” he says. He’s as pale as a ghost.

  “What?”

  “I was just on the phone with my girlfriend, and I don’t know if you heard me. Sorry if I was shouting.”

  I stare at him. I hate it how some guys have the tendency to insult women to other women’s faces and then ask for their approval.

  “Yeah, right,” I mumble.

  Atticus shifts his weight from one foot to another and doesn’t look me in the eye. Now, I know for sure that I had no business hearing that conversation.

  “I didn’t actually hear anything, I just came out to get my iPad,” I assure him. He smiles, looks like he believes me.

  “Okay, well, I’ll see you around then.”

  I watch him leave.

  24

  Gatsby comes back right as I get out of the bath. He is wearing a new suit and looks as sharp as ever. His hair is brushed back, and his eyes are twinkling.

  “Must’ve been some meeting,” I say. I want to wrap my arms around him, but I’m soaking wet.

  “I had a video conference. I had to look presentable.” He comes closer to me, wrapping his arms around me. He’s not as concerned about his suit as I am.

  “Oh wow, if I knew I was going to miss this, I would have never gone downstairs,” he says, kissing me.

  I feel how hard he is through his pants, and he undoes my towel, dropping it to the floor.

  “Come to me,” he says, kneeling down on the floor and kissing my breasts.

  His lips start to meander down toward my belly button.

  I feel hot all over, and it’s not just the bath. But before I lose all control over my faculties, I pull away.

  “I have to ask you something,” I say.

  “Anything,” he says, kissing my collarbone. “Just talk while I keep doing this.”

  Gatsby pushes hair off my neck.

  “No, c’mon. This is serious. Please.” I pull away and pick up the towel off the floor.

  “Okay, okay.” He folds his arms across his chest. “What? What’s so important?”

  I have to wrap myself in the towel
before asking him. I have never been totally comfortable with my own nudity. Plus, I need to buy myself some time. This is very difficult to say. I can’t find the words. I don’t really know what I heard, but I know it’s not good. I know that it’s something that Gatsby should know about. Yet I am conflicted.

  Things have just started to get better between them. When we first arrived, Gatsby didn’t even acknowledge that he had brothers. And then today, everything changed. I saw him not just admit that they exist but actually have fun with them. I saw him laughing with Atticus, reminiscing about their childhood.

  Given my own experience with my sisters, I don’t want to take that away from him. I want to just pretend that everything is okay. I want them to remain brothers. Even more than that, I want them to remain friends.

  But am I willing to lie for Atticus to do this? No, I can’t. My allegiance lies with Gatsby. Atticus didn’t ask me to. And I don’t even know what it is that I am lying about.

  I have to choose my words carefully.

  “I was just wondering…” I start.

  He waits for me to finish. I can’t find the words. I don’t know how to ask about something that I’m not supposed to know anything about. I don’t want to alarm him if it’s really nothing. If this just has to do with Atticus and not the company.

  “I was just wondering why Atticus is so worried about the IPO.”

  Gatsby gives off a sigh of relief. “Oh, Christ, Annabelle. I thought you were going to say that you wanted to leave or something. Don’t scare me like that!”

  He is relieved too soon, but I just nod and wait for his reply.

  “Because we’re all going to get really rich after it goes through.”

  “Okay.” I nod. That doesn’t really explain anything.

  “Well, everyone but him, I guess,” Gatsby adds as an afterthought. I don’t trust my ears. I am not sure if I heard that correctly.