The Last Exhale

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The Last Exhale Page 23

by Julia Blues


  Meowing and purring is at my feet. I look down, see Forrester in all his furriness looking up at me. “Hey, buddy.” I grunt as I pick him up, rub him on his head. “I know you don’t agree, but it’s time we put you on a diet, sir.” He yawns in my face, breath smelling like The Dead Sea. I put him down by the fireplace.

  Mr. Holmes stops tickling his grandson long enough to give me a snug hug. “This guy doesn’t stop, does he?”

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders, give him a kiss on the cheek. “Never.”

  “Come on, Grandpa. Lemme show you the fort I built in my room.”

  “EJ, let your grandfather breathe for a minute.”

  Mr. Holmes grabs EJ’s hand and winks at me. “Can’t disappoint my favorite grandson, now, can I?”

  I nod. “Be careful.”

  EJ pulls his grandfather’s hand so hard up the stairs I see my father-in-law jerk, and he looks back at me. I shrug. He was warned.

  Light chatter from the dining room trickles into the living room. Kennedy’s at the table talking with her grandmother about school. I can see Eric in the kitchen, putting slices of pizza on plates. I wink at him and quickly divert my attention to his mother. After what her son did to me upstairs, I’m willing to call it a truce. “It would be nice if we lived closer to each other. The kids love spending time with you all.”

  She glances up at me with no words coming from her lips, then diverts her attention back to Kennedy. “You get your smarts from your father. He was good in school,” she tells her granddaughter.

  “My mom is smart too,” Kennedy says in my defense. I swear, kids are a lot smarter than we give them credit for. They have a sense almost stronger than animals.

  A smirk crosses my face. I want to say, “That’s right, my daughter has my back,” but I don’t. So much for that truce.

  Eric Sr. comes out with two plates for the kids, puts them on the table. “You want juice or milk?”

  “Mom, can I have some soda?”

  My eyes are on my daughter, but I see my mother-in-law look to her son.

  “Soda’s not an option tonight, Kennedy. Juice or milk. Better yet, how about some water?”

  The little miss gets up from the table, her chair screeching against the hardwood. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Young lady, that’s not the way you talk to your father.”

  I put my hand up. Say, “I’ll handle my child.”

  “Doesn’t seem like you’ve done much handling as is.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Eric marches off back into the kitchen. Leaves his wife and mother to war between themselves. Same thing he’s done since the day he introduced us. He knew right off the bat his mother wasn’t a fan of me. He’s never tried to get us to an equal ground. Just lets us fend for ourselves. Maybe he’s waiting on one of us to reach a breaking point. I’m past that point.

  “Why do you have such a problem with me?”

  “I don’t have a problem with you. I only wish my son had made a different decision.”

  “Why? What makes me such a bad choice?”

  She reaches her hand over, pinches at my shirt. Flicks a piece of lint to the ground. “Do you even love my son?”

  I step back, run my hands down my shirt. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

  “Because everyone can see the truth but you. Or at least we’re willing to call you out on it.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  She scoots back from her chair so hard it bangs against the wall. “You want to know what’s ridiculous? I knew the day Eric first introduced you to us that he was making a bad decision. The only reason he ended up with you is because Abigail broke his heart. Had she not taken that job overseas, she would be my daughter-in-law, not you.”

  I do all I can to keep my simmering blood from boiling over. The name of the woman who Eric wanted to marry instead of me has never been mentioned in this house until now. Both he and I did our best to pretend she didn’t exist. But as much as she didn’t to us, she existed to Elaine.

  “Well, as I told you before, he chose me. It was his decision to marry me.” I point to my chest, do it so hard almost feels like my fingernail broke skin.

  The mother of my husband takes her seat, sits down with a Mona Lisa-smirk dancing across her face. She’s angered me and she knows it. “By the way, did he tell you they saw each other the night before your wedding?”

  Those words chop down my pride of being the chosen one, they quickly deflate me from the high her son inflated me with twenty minutes ago when he put something good on me in the shower.

  I go into the kitchen to find Eric fumbling with an unopened bottle of apple juice. He struggles to twist the cap off with his good arm, which is his weak side. His doctor says it’ll be months before he gets full strength back on his right side, his strong side; his gun hand. I watch him struggle with the bottle out of the corner of my eye. I know he needs help, but I won’t step in unless he asks. But the way he fumbles with the jar and avoids my eyes, I know it’s more than his weakness.

  “I didn’t sleep with her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Obviously we’ve been lying to each other all these years, no point in changing things now.” I look behind me to make sure no one else is involved in this conversation. “And since we’re lying, the shower was just a fuck, right?”

  “You came in the shower with your nipples hard. I’m a man.”

  “And you’re also my husband.”

  “You weren’t thinking about that when you were laid up with another man.”

  I grab the juice from his hands, twist the cap until it loses its suction to the jar. I do that, slide the jar back over to him, and dismiss myself from the conversation. As I walk past Mrs. Holmes still sitting at the dining room table, I tell her, “Safe travels back to Denver.”

  62

  BRANDON

  My eyes are closed, head leaned back. Feel mist from the ocean spray against my face. Hear the sounds of life flowing through my ears.

  I’m on a boat with fifteen other people. We’re cruising between the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean on our way to Virgin Gorda. A tour of the British Virgin Islands arranged by the hotel resort. The Baths is our first stop. I remove my flip-flops and slip into a pair of water shoes I bought at a shop back at St. Thomas last night. It was advised when I registered for this excursion, as we would do a little bit of rock climbing in the beginning of the tour.

  “You look like you needed this trip.”

  I peer into eyes the color of the ocean at sunrise. “You just don’t know.”

  She points her thumb to the boat behind us, says, “Didn’t want to interrupt your moment back there.”

  “Was just enjoying the ride. Never been to the islands before.”

  “Same here. My girls and I take a trip every year. Last year was London. This time we wanted bikini weather.”

  I eye her without eyeing her. She has on a fuchsia top moderately covering above-average breasts, bright green shorts lowered slightly to see the top of her bikini bottom. Colors to assure she’d be seen if lost at sea. “You ladies enjoying yourself so far?”

  “Minus these mosquitoes, I’m having a blast.”

  I laugh. “They are aggressive out here.” I reach my hand out to help her down a rock as the group travels the path of Devil’s Bay.

  “Hilda,” one of the girls ahead calls out.

  My companion for the moment yells, “I’m coming.”

  I say, “You don’t look like a Hilda.”

  She stops walking, turns around with a hand on her hip. “And exactly what does a Hilda look like?”

  I throw my hands up, throw in the towel before this battle even gets started. “No offense.”

  She laughs. “No offense taken. I actually get that all the time. Thought about changing my name to Kendra or something, but then I’d be denying half of my roots. My mom’s German; it was her grandmother’s name.”

  “Interesting.�
��

  “My dad hated it, but had a lot of love for my mother and her mother, so that’s what went down on my birth certificate.”

  I say, “I’m Brandon, by the way.”

  An older couple from the boat catches up to us. Lets us know our chatter has slowed us down.

  “You better catch up to your friends,” I tell her. “This is a girls’ trip after all.”

  She smiles and moves with a quickness to catch her friends.

  The Baths is unlike anything I’ve seen before. Feels like I’m in another world after being hidden behind trees for the seven-minute hike. Makes me think of the movie The Goonies at the end as they watch the pirate ship of One-Eyed Willie drift to the unknown in awe. That’s how it feels now. Life’s perfect perfection.

  “Hey, Brandon.” Hilda calls me over, hands me a camera. “Can you take a picture of us?”

  All five of them stand inside what looks like a lovers’ cave, an upside-down V formed by volcanic rock cooled by the ocean. The tour guide mentions something about Tyra Banks taking a picture here for Sports Illustrated many years back.

  I snap a few pictures of the ladies in different spots before we make our trek back through nature-made pools, dirt paths, and trees to our open-air safari bus taking us to our next destination. Somehow, I’ve become the designated carrier of Hilda’s camera. I make sure I’m relieved of the responsibilities once we’re all situated on the taxi, though it does feel good to have a camera back in my hand.

  “Oh, I’m sorry about that.”

  “No problem.”

  She takes the camera from my hand, letting her fingers linger on my skin a little longer than her eyes in mine.

  • • •

  Climbing through The Baths, snorkeling in Diamond Reef, eating at Marina Cay, swimming to Soggy Dollar Bar at Jost Van Dyke Island, an all-day adventure that left me drained. Had to come back to my room, shower and climb in the bed for a few hours. My stomach woke me up a few minutes ago. I ate a lot from the treats they had on the excursion and at Pusser’s for lunch, but I burned just as much calories in all the water and land activities.

  I rinse my face off and mouth out with water, gargle some Scope, and head downstairs. Take hotel transportation over to the adjoining resort for dinner at Havana Blue.

  All their drinks sound appetizing. I’ve been in a coconut mood since I’ve been here. I stick with the theme and order up a Lychee Heaven: Cruzan Coconut Rum, lychee juice, lychee fruit, toasted coconut rim. For starters, I munch on shrimp and lobster tostadas and finish my meal off with mojito skirt steak.

  I pay my tab and head down to the beach, order another drink at the bar. I roll up the legs of my khakis to my knees, sit my shoes next to a lounge chair. Drink in hand, I walk the edge of the shore. Without much control, my thoughts drift to the dream I had with Rene the night she passed. Feel my heart sink. I would give anything to make love to her in the waves of the ocean right now. Would love to hold her in my hands and hear her whisper in my ear how much she loves me. I shake away the thoughts. No matter how hard I try, that’s one wish that will never come true.

  The night’s sky is crystal clear, a billion stars glisten above me. Looks like a million pairs of eyes looking down on me. For a moment, I wonder if a set belongs to Rene. Wonder if she’s up there having the same thoughts about my dream that she starred in.

  “Brandon.”

  The glass falls from my hand. I turn in every direction in search of my late wife. She’s nowhere to be found. I pick the glass up from the sand. Maybe it’s a good thing I dropped it, because it’s got me hearing voices I don’t need to be hearing.

  “Brandon.”

  There it is again.

  I pick up my pace, grab my shoes. When I take the glass back to the bar, I see a woman running toward me with more waves in her hair than the sea. “I thought that was you,” Hilda says nearly out of breath.

  I tell her, “You almost had me looking for the nearest psych ward.”

  That goes over her head. I can tell when she takes a quick pause. “My girls and I were eating upstairs and I thought I saw you walking out.”

  I say, “Your friends are gonna have a bone to pick with you if you keep ditching them for me.”

  She lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “I, umm, told them I’d catch up with them.”

  “Where are you heading?”

  “Came to see what you were up to.” Her eyes do that lingering thing again.

  “Just walking the beach.”

  Her tone is bold. “Let’s walk.”

  I put my shoes back down. Hilda flings hers in the dirt on top of mine.

  Soon as we begin walking on wet sand, she says, “Okay, so I have to ask. Why every time I see you, you’re alone?”

  “Came alone.”

  “Where’s your wife?”

  “What makes you think I’m married?”

  Her eyes travel down to my left hand.

  I touch my gold band. Haven’t taken my ring off my finger since the day Rene put it on. Guess I’m not ready to part with it just yet. “She couldn’t come,” I say and stuff my hand in my pocket.

  “If you want to talk about it…” She leaves the door open.

  I don’t walk in. Instead I spin the wheel in her direction. “Are you married?”

  She runs her hands through her hair, fluffs it until it starts to frizz a little. “Yesterday was my wedding day. He called the wedding off a few days ago, said he wasn’t ready to make such a commitment.”

  “Ouch.”

  “My thoughts exactly. You’d think he would’ve figured that before putting a ring on my finger or investing thousands in a destination wedding.”

  “That’s why you’re here?”

  She sighs. “Yeah, this was where we were to pledge our lifetime to loving one another.”

  I try to add a little positivity to the air. “Well, at least all the money wasn’t lost.”

  “That is the only, I repeat, the only reason I’m not totally pissed. My girls had already bought their tickets, so we just used this as our yearly trip. I would’ve hated for them to waste their money. I couldn’t care less about his.”

  “Understandable,” I say.

  She waves her hands in the air. “Enough of that. This weekend is supposed to be—” She stops moving forward and takes big steps back. “What the heck is that?”

  I follow her eyes, see a huge something walking out of the water. “Whoa, I think it’s an iguana.”

  It stops moving when it senses us. Not sure if it wants to hide back under the water or continue with its plan of walking the land.

  I take a few steps back as well, grab Hilda’s hand. “That thing’s the size of the Incredible Hulk on his hands and knees.”

  “I didn’t know those things could swim.” Her hand trembles in mine. “I’m so not a creature person.”

  “That makes two of us. Let’s head back to the restaurant.”

  We continue walking backward, but turn around when we realize there could be another oversized lizard walking behind us. Gotta stay focused on what’s in front, not behind.

  When I feel we’re in the clear, I release her hand.

  She doesn’t let mine go.

  • • •

  We’re in my room.

  Hilda’s standing on the balcony looking out at the pool. “This was supposed to be my honeymoon.”

  I walk up behind her, hand her a glass of water. “I’m sure you don’t see it now, but it was probably for the best. I once heard rejection is God’s protection.”

  She sips nature’s best gift. “Thanks.” Puts it on the table.

  I stand next to her, take in the moment. Hear light splashes and flirty giggles coming from the pool. Says, “Sounds like a private party.”

  Both of us stand on the balcony, watching and listening. Voyeurs in the dark.

  All of a sudden, I feel eyes on me, someone’s trying to peep in on my thoughts. I turn and look over at the Peeping Tom. Hilda’s eyes are i
ntense, sends me a message I’m not sure I want to or am ready to decipher. Her hand grazes mine, intertwines her fingers with mine. Leads me back inside.

  We’re standing steps away from the bed. Neither of us are prepared to make the first move, but we’re here and a move has to be made.

  In the darkness of the room, for the first time in ten years, I remove my wedding band. It doesn’t come off easy. I close my eyes and picture Rene standing in front of me, her fingers pressed against my band keeping it from budging. I open my eyes, see she’s not in this room, only in my conscience. I ask her to forgive me as the ring comes off and I place it on the table next to the TV. My hand feels lighter and that makes my conscience feel even lighter.

  I step forward, gently place my hands on her face.

  She puts her hands on top of mine and steps forward until our lips touch.

  63

  SYDNEY

  “You know you’ve made my life hell, right?”

  “Stand in line.”

  “I’m here now.”

  The woman I once considered my best friend stands in front of me with no intention of stepping down anytime soon. I’ll stand here with her all night if I have to. “Rachel, you need to take this up with your husband. Michael was the one driving the car.”

  “You just had to do it, huh? Just had to cross the line.”

  I was wrong. I won’t stand out here all night and defend my actions. I chirp the alarm to my car, reach for the door. Rachel shoves her body in front of the handle, makes it hard for me to go anywhere. “Really now?”

  She folds her arms across her chest. “Why’d you do it?”

  I toss my portfolio and purse on top of the car. Since she’s determined to get in my business, I do the same to her. “Why did you?”

  “This isn’t about me right now, but since you want to know. It’s as I told you. I cheated on Michael long before we got married.”

  “Cheating is cheating.”

  “Gosh, Sydney.” She pushes herself off my car, leans on hers. “Don’t you see you’ve messed up my life?”

 

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