Lost to Light

by Jamie Bennett

  She looked between Iván and me. “With Toby in the pokey, I think you’re my last resort.”

  “Is that a yes?” I prompted.

  She sighed. “It’s a yes. But I’m still smoking.” Iván’s eyebrows went up. “Outside,” she concluded glumly.

  We worked for hours that morning. I wanted to introduce some adult classes right away to start bringing in more money. “One thing that would be great would be to provide childcare for moms while they’re here dancing or working out,” I said. “I noticed that the spider store moved out over the weekend.”

  “I think he got bitten,” Anouk explained, and I shuddered.

  “Maybe Joana could work here,” I suggested. “We could make sure all the spiders are gone and convert the storefront to a kids’ area. And when I say ‘we,’ please understand that I will not be involved in spider removal.”

  Anouk nodded slowly. “That might work,” she said. “Maybe.”

  Iván was nodding too. “We need to talk to my lawyer.”

  “And there’s the insurance,” I added.

  Anouk rolled her eyes more. “This is the boring stuff I never had to deal with.”

  “Yes,” Iván told her. “You did almost everything wrong.”

  Iván wanted to head to the pool and I walked him out, unlocking the glass door to the street. “I’ll be home early,” I said.

  “Why don’t you come swim…” He looked over my shoulder. “¿Qué coño haces aquí, cabrón?”

  I turned. Oh, glory. My mouth dropped open. “Robin? What are you doing here?” I asked.

  Robin looked terrible, sloppy and dirty, his eyes red-rimmed. “Hi, Maura.” He whined instead of speaking. “I left you all those messages, you never called me back. I really wanted to see you but my mom wouldn’t let me. I drove up in her car and she’s going to be really pissed. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” He screwed up his face. “For a long time, anyway.”

  I felt Iván move behind me and held my arm in front of him. “I don’t want to see you, Robin. We don’t have anything to say to each other.”

  His eyes flicked to Iván. “Can’t we talk, alone?” he whispered, as if Iván couldn’t hear him. “I made a big, big mistake, Maura. We need to discuss it.”

  Iván made a threatening noise in his throat and Robin’s eyes bugged a little. I turned to Iván. “I can handle him. Can you just give me a second?” I asked. He stepped about an inch away and I looked back at Robin. “No, I don’t want to talk,” I told him. “You did make a mistake. You made a lot of them. You treated me terribly, and I hope you’re sorry, and I hope you never do any of that again, not to anyone else. But there’s no discussion, not now, not ever. You need to get back in your mom’s car and leave.”

  “I miss you so much,” Robin told me. “I’m so lonely.” His voice dropped again. “Maura, you’re just as hot as I remember.” He was staring at my breasts. “Maybe one last time, just for old time’s sake—”

  The words hadn’t finished leaving his mouth when Iván had him by the neck. “You perverted piece of shit,” Iván hissed. “Don’t even look at her!”

  Robin was flailing his arms. He kicked his legs and knocked over a folding chair with a clatter, and Anouk came running in. “Let him go!” I said, my voice shrill. “Iván, let him go!” I grabbed his arms. His muscles were like iron. Iván dropped him and Robin fell hard to the floor.

  “You attacked me,” Robin gasped. He pointed to Anouk. “You saw him! I’m calling the police.”

  “I didn’t see shit,” Anouk answered, just as Iván made another move toward him. I wrapped my arms around his waist to try to hold him back. “No! Robin, put down that phone.”

  Robin slowly got up, dusted himself off, and pulled down his shirt over his white belly. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me, running his gaze up and down my body. “I won’t report him. But you’ll owe me, Maura. You’ll have to make it up to me.”

  Suddenly I saw him. I really saw him for what he was. “You’re so pathetic,” I said, my voice filled with disgust. “You could manipulate me when I was fifteen, and you’re still trying to do it now. I’m not going to sleep with you, Robin. Not ever again.”

  “Fifteen? You have to be fucking with me.” Anouk’s voice was pure New Jersey. “If you hold him, I’ll hit him,” she told Iván.

  “No, he’s not worth it,” I said. “I’ll tell you what, Robin. If you go to the police, I will, too.”

  He looked nervous. “For what? Marijuana is legal now…”

  “No, not because of drugs. I’ll go to the police and tell them about you luring me when I was a teenager. How you somehow worked the system and I ended up living with you, a predator.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Robin said. “That was a long time ago, anyway.”

  “Maybe it won’t matter to the police how long ago it happened.” My voice rose. “I know that it won’t matter when I start calling reporters. Bloggers. Everybody! How do you think your parents would like it? How do you think their friends would react if I told everyone that they knew? They knew I was living with you, and they let it happen!” My voice had risen more. “You were an adult. I thought you were helping me! I thought you saved me. All this time, I thought I owed you!” Now I was almost screaming.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Anouk told him. “I have a gun and my neighbor doesn’t have any issues about composting red meat.”

  Robin backed away. “Don’t tell, ok, Maura? Don’t tell anyone.” He bumped against the door and pulled it open. “I’ll leave you alone. Don’t tell, promise?”

  Anouk locked the door behind him and we watched him shuffle-run down the street. “What a piece of shit. I’m liking the new one even more now,” she added, pointing at Iván.

  Iván just held out his arms, and I walked into them. Anouk left us, and I cried against his chest for a long time.

  “I’m glad he came,” I said finally, trying to wipe off my face. “It was like I finally understood.”

  “I wish I had hurt him more. I wish I had killed him.” Iván looked so angry that I knew he could have.

  “No. Let’s let the authorities handle it.” I nodded. “Tonight I’m going to call the police. Maybe it’s really too late, but maybe they can do something. Something so he can’t do that to anyone else.”

  Iván nodded too. “I’m proud of you. I think it’s the right thing, what you’re doing. But I still wish I had…” His eyes went to the door. “I don’t want to leave you here, even if Anouk really has a gun.” He winced. “Do you think she does?”

  “I think we need to clean out the office very thoroughly and look. It’s a definite maybe, and that line about putting him in the compost really freaked me out.”

  We were very quiet in the car. Iván waited for me directly outside the ladies’ locker room while I changed and held my hand when we walked across to the pool, his face still wearing an angry scowl. I felt jumpy and nervous, but the water helped. It didn’t scare me anymore; it calmed me. I let it lap against me gently and I took deep breaths.

  Iván swam next to me in the lane, his long body graceful like a fish, while I slapped away at the water. Then I kicked slowly and watched him as he swam off his anger for many, many laps, until his scowl was gone. When he was done, he floated next to me for a while on his back, the way he told me he liked to do to think about things.

  He picked up his head. “Maura?”

  “Yes?”

  He stood. His eyes looked dark. “I have to tell you something. I probably should have told you a long time ago.”

  My fingers gripped the kickboard. “Ok. Go ahead.”

  Iván reached for my hands, removed them from the kickboard, and pulled me through the water to him. He put his arms around me, holding me close. “You know, I think you know, already.” He bent his head to mine. “I love you.”

  My smile bloomed across my face. “I do know that you love me. You show me in everything that you do. But I’m glad you told me, that you said
the words. Do you know how I feel about you?”

  “Maybe you could say the words too,” he suggested.

  “I trust you. I believe you. I love you, Iván.” I hugged him as hard as I could. “I love you.”

  The water lapped around us. I thought of the first time I saw the ocean, the splendor and the boundless possibility of it. I remembered feeling wonder and awe.

  I felt the same way, all over again. “I love you.”

  Epilogue

  I fanned myself. Cáceres was broiling today, hot even for me.

  “Are you all right, Maura?” Belén asked me anxiously. “Can I get you something else to drink?”

  “No, thank you.” I smiled up at her. “I’m just fine.” She nodded and went in through the glass doors to the living room.

  I was sitting in the shallow end of the pool in our back yard. Iván and I had bought a house near his parents to make it easier to visit with our family. I watched our sons race across the pool, easily out-touching their dad at the other side.

  Iván was laughing. “I can’t keep up,” he told them. “You’re too fast now.” He hadn't used his legs, and our daughter had been riding on his back, which may have slowed him down some.

  “Te ayudé, Papá,” she told him, patting his cheek. They had the same beautiful brown eyes. “I kicked so hard!”

  “Muchas gracias, Mariana.” He gave her a kiss. “We’ll get them next time. Let’s help your mom go swim.”

  I levered my pregnant body off the step. My sons took their little sister and Iván guided me gently into the deep end, then stood behind me, his arms supporting my stomach. This baby, our second daughter, would be born in Spain like her siblings.

  We watched our kids splash each other. Our oldest son, Santiago, carefully wiped the water out of his sister’s eyes. He was so careful of her—he reminded me a lot of his father. But both of Mariana’s brothers loved and protected her. I sighed, thinking of Mikey. He had been in and out of trouble, but the last few years had been better. I kept hoping. I always had hope. “All right?” Iván asked me, his hands moving in gentle circles over my stomach.

  “I’m good. Just a little tired.” I had spent the morning working on things for the dance studio. We had a good manager to run things in my absence, and since having Alejandro, our second son, I was working part-time, so my presence wasn’t as essential. But I liked to stay in touch and keep up with it all. The business was so much larger than when Anouk had been in charge, and so much more legal. She had retired to Reno years ago, and we had bought her out. Although we missed her, I had to admit the drama had scaled back considerably.

  Joana came outside. “Lunch, niños.” They hopped out of the water. Thank goodness for Joana. She was their second grandma, and my best friend. I wouldn’t have been able to have three, almost four, kids without her.

  “Benji called,” I told Iván. “He’s loving his internship.” Benji, who still wanted me to call him Ben, had gotten his degree in the spring after only three years. He was starting graduate school soon, back in California, so we would see him more. “Did you see the pictures of his girlfriend?”

  “She seems like a nice girl.” He kissed the top of my head. “I have the nicest girl.”

  “Your girl is a whale,” I told him, sighing. I was at that part of pregnancy.

  “A beautiful, perfect whale.”

  “Iván!”

  He laughed and I did too. We spent a lot of our days laughing. “Te quiero, Maura.”

  “I love you, Iván.”

  The baby kicked under his hands and Iván and I smiled at each other. I rested my head against my husband, and we watched the bright Spanish sun play off the water. It couldn’t compare to the light I felt inside myself.

  About the Author

  Jamie Bennett is a reader turned writer (but still a reader). She enjoys formulating excuses to avoid going for a run and coming up with new ideas for books, sometimes simultaneously. Her other novels, The Moon Garden, Equinox, Tuck, Stroke by Stroke, and Peaked, are available on Amazon. You can reach her via Facebook @jamiebennettbooks.

  Thanks for reading!

  And if you enjoyed this book, please leave a review!

  See Iván Again in Stroke by Stroke

  At the pool the next morning, Coach Peter looked like the cat who’d eaten the canary, as my grandma used to say.

  “What’s up?” I asked suspiciously. I wasn’t a huge fan of surprises.

  “Good news this time,” Peter told me.

  So far that spring/summer, the head coach of the Shark group, and head coach of our whole team, had gotten fired for accepting bribes and for having an affair with a parent. Then a car—driven by the same George Whitaker who built our George Whitaker Athletic Complex—had some kind of mechanical failure, jumped the curb, and hit the aunt of one of the Shark group swimmers, a nice little guy named Charlie whom I had coached when he came through my groups. His aunt was ok, but it had all been pretty terrible. And on the personal side, I had already gotten an email that morning that I was no longer being considered for the position at the newspaper. We—I—could have used some good news.

  “Yes? What’s going on?” I asked again. But Peter just grinned and kept his mouth shut after telling me to trust him and that I’d like it. Peter had been my coach as an age-group swimmer when he was just starting out as an assistant like I now was. We went way back, and I did trust him. But I still wanted to know.

  Our swimmers had gathered behind the blocks, but when Peter called them they all dropped their kickboards and trotted over.

  “I have some great news,” he announced, when everyone had settled down and stopped poking each other. “Raise your hand if you know who Dylan McKenzie is.”

  Almost every hand shot up. Including mine.

  “Keep your hand up if you can tell me one fact about him. Just one,” he warned.

  “He was in the Olympics! Twice!”

  “He won seven gold medals! And some other colors, too.”

  “He swims butterfly. Like me.” [“Not like you, dummy. He remembers to kick.”]

  That was all accurate. Dylan held the world record in 200 butterfly and the American record in the 100. But he also excelled in the 200 individual medley, 400 IM, and backstroke, too. And yes, Harrison never remembered to kick.

  “He does the commercial for the car.”

  “And also toothpaste. And that drink that tastes so bad.”

  Yes. NRG+Lyfe was disgusting in any flavor.

  I kept my hand up. “Coach Peter? I also know that Dylan used to swim for this team.”

  Little swim cap covered heads were nodding in agreement. “He was a Shark Pup, like us!”

  “That’s right,” Peter agreed. “He grew up near here, just like you guys. And he worked really, really hard, and became a Shark, then he went to college and studied really hard, and went to the Olympics.”

  Way to sum it up.

  “How would you guys like to meet him?” Peter asked the crowd. We all looked at each other.

  “Dylan McKenzie is back home and he’s going to come here!”

  My heart stuttered as the swimmers erupted in cheers, jumping up and down.

  “He’s going to swim with us!” Peter continued.

  They all went nuts again. I thought I should sit down. I looked at Peter, smiling broadly, looking at all the little kids. He cut through the crowd to talk to me. “Can you believe it? Isn’t it great?” He had to yell to be heard over their happiness.

  I was kind of speechless. “Are you serious that he’s coming? When?” I got out.

  “What time is it now?” He glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “Peter! He’s coming here, at this moment?”

  He looked at me strangely, and I realized that I was gripping his arm. Hard. I let him go.

  “At about ten. He didn’t want anyone to know beforehand, so I had to wait to make the announcement. Do you remember swimming with him?” he asked me, rubbing his bicep where I had g
rabbed him. I was pretty strong.

  “A little,” I lied. A lot. “We weren’t ever in the same group. I think maybe we went to a few of the same meets, when he was younger. It was so long ago.”

  I remembered every second of every moment that I had seen Dylan McKenzie. I had lingered around after my own practices to watch him. One time I had volunteered to clean out the disgusting lost goggles’ bucket so that I could hang out and see him. Even back then, his strokes were a thing of beauty. He didn’t swim in the water; he flew.

  Not to mention that he was just about the hottest thing to walk the earth, which became a much bigger deal when I hit about 12. If you’d never seen him in his Speedo, you were truly missing out. Thick, blonde hair that fell over his forehead, hazel-green eyes, cheekbones—the guy could have been on the cover of cheesy romance novels.

  It was no wonder that he had so many endorsements. And unlike so many other famous athletes, Dylan kept his nose clean. He never got arrested—he never even got a traffic ticket. He didn’t get drunk in public, or take compromising selfies. Between his swimming and his looks and his good reputation, he was the perfect package.

  And not only that, but he was actually nice. He was nice to the other swimmers on the team when we were kids, especially the little ones who followed him around like he was the Pied Piper. He would toss them in the water when the coaches weren’t looking, which they found to be absolutely hilarious. He was nice to swimmers on the other teams, even when he had to hang out in the water in his lane for about half an hour to wait for them to finish the race so he could shake their hands.

  By the time I was in my teens and he was heading to college, the coaches had to close the pool and not allow spectators. That’s how popular he was in our area. People would drive in to watch him practice and wait in the parking lot to say hi. We all thought he was going somewhere.

  And he did, to the University of Michigan—that’s Division 1 swimming—but he left early to train for the Olympics, where he won his first two golds, three silvers, and a bronze (in freestyle, which wasn’t even his specialty). Then he got famous world-wide, and picked up a ton of endorsements, which meant that college swimming was over. The kids had named a few of the products with his name/face on them, but there were a lot more. His mom and his sister went from living in, well, kind of a shack, to a super nice house right on the lake. His sister Daisy was my age and we had been at school together, but we hadn’t been friends (this was no insult to her, because to make friends you had to be able to speak to people, which had never really been my forte). I had left for college, but I didn’t think that Daisy had gone.