by Isabel Jolie
“Aw. How cute,” Luna gushed. I found it hard to swallow.
“The oldest one is Lucy. She’s three. The baby is Lena. She’s maybe two months in that photo, but she’s six months now. They grow so fast. It’s a whirlwind. Life-changing.”
“All with an L, huh?” Luna asked as she flipped through photos on his phone with a warm smile plastered on.
“It’s a tradition in Laura’s family. All the women’s names begin with L.”
“No son? You going to keep trying for one?” she asked as she flipped through photos.
I wouldn’t put it past Gregg to be that guy, desperate for a boy to carry on the name or some bullshit like that.
“No. I love having daughters. Didn’t matter to me at first, but after we had Lucy, and we were spending time on playgrounds and with other families with kids, it didn’t take me long to see little girls have some advantages. I felt relief when we found out our second would be a girl. The more time I spend around kids, the more appreciation I have for our mom raising two boys.”
“That’s what my dad used to say, too. He loves that he has two daughters. I don’t think he would’ve minded having more kids, but Mom said no way.”
“Yeah, two is enough. I see those families now with three or four kids and…no, two works. Are you the youngest or the oldest?”
“Oldest.”
“Me too.” Gregg sent an accusatory glare my way. My tight throat and the heat from Luna in my lap had me pushing on the ground, rocking the chair back and forth.
“My sister’s my best friend. She’s still in Sanibel with my parents. Or, well, she’s in school at the University of Florida, but she spends a lot of time at home.”
“Yeah, that’s what they say about daughters. They’re more likely to stay close.”
A heavy weight sank onto my chest, and I lifted Luna off my lap.
“You ready for those chips?” I asked Gregg.
He checked the time with a quick flex of his wrist and shrugged. “Sure. I eat early these days.”
I held the screen door open for my brother to pass through, and Luna stood by my side. My right hand drifted lower and cupped the curve of her bottom, giving it a gentle, clandestine squeeze.
“I’ll see you later?” I asked her.
Gregg glanced back but moved forward into the house, giving us some privacy.
“Come by Jules if you want. Or text me later, and I’ll come over. If you decide you want to catch up with your brother, that’s cool. I can see you tomorrow.”
I nodded. She stepped forward, and I pulled her back, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I want to see you later tonight.” I said the word want, but need was more accurate. I couldn’t explain it, but my brother’s surprise visit had me off-kilter, like one side of the ship was weighted too heavily, and I needed Luna to anchor for the night.
No sooner had she pulled away in her golf cart than Gregg turned to me and asked, “So, how old is she?”
I chuckled. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask her yourself.”
“Man, I don’t give a damn how old she is. Stop acting like everything I say is a judgement.”
“Well, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Bullshit.”
Gregg let out an exasperated sigh. “Look. She’s clearly legal, she’s in college—”
“Grad school.” I glared at the sand lining his dress shoes.
“Fine. Whatever. Great. As long as she’s eighteen and you’re not at risk of being charged with statutory rape, I’m good with it. Really. She seems nice. I have nothing against her.” He flipped open the trash compactor and dropped his bottle into it with a clang, then turned around. “I have nothing against you. I came down because I think you’re in trouble. I’m worried about you. I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, but I’m your family. And I’m going to be there for you. I don’t know if you’ve been running drugs, or if you’ve got some cartel after you, or what. But if you need guns for protection, I’ll drive ’em down here. If you need lawyers, I’ll hire them. If you need security, we’ll get that for you. Gabe knows people. We’ll do whatever is needed. You’re my brother. No matter how pissed off I am at you, that doesn’t change. You can always come to me. Got it?”
My eyes fucking burned, and I rubbed them, then inhaled deeply and forced a grin. “Guns? You’ll bring me guns?”
“Whatever you need. I’m here.”
“You’ve got quite an imagination.”
“That’s what happens when you go missing for ten years. It’s a lot of time to dream up shit.”
“I never ran drugs or met up with a cartel.” I chewed on my lip, amused at his ideas.
“What’d you do?”
“I blew up a ship.”
His entire hand covered his mouth, but based on the wrinkled corners of his eyes, my guess was his palm covered a fat ass smile. When he finally dropped his hand, his lips rested in a flat line, and he dipped his head as he moved to the cart.
“All right, then. Gabe said something was up. Let’s talk about what we need to do over chips and salsa.”
We took off towards Delphina’s, both of us driving a cart since the Inn was down by the marina. We started off at a normal clip, but of course, by the time we approached the marina, we were full-on racing, our pedals flattened against the black of the cart, swerving around each other and attempting to run the other one off the road. It felt good. Like old times.
We found a seat against the back wall inside. Most everyone else was seated outside on the deck, but the temperature was dropping and the wind picking up, and I had a feeling we were going to be sitting down talking for a long time.
Gregg had me telling him my story before we’d been served our beers. Had me filling him in on where I’d been, what I’d done, and how I ended up blowing up a boat I was supposed to deliver. I didn’t share as much with him as I did with Luna. Just told him I’d had it. I couldn’t be a part of fostering those living conditions or…slavery. I couldn’t do it.
“So, are you here hiding? Is that why you came back?”
“I’m not hiding.” He gave me a look that told me he didn’t believe me. Whatever. He’d always think the worst. “No one knows what I did. But that’s what Gabe was getting at, I guess. I came back because Nana Pearl died.”
“You missed Dad’s funeral. But you came back for hers?” The accusation colored his expression and pissed me off.
“You know, I don’t know if it’s ever occurred to you, but it’s not that easy to get back to Connecticut when you’re near Antarctica. And it’s not like I was on a cruise ship that had a plan for getting a passenger off it if needed. Your text that he died came through three days before the funeral. Two days, when you consider the time change. I was on the other side of the world. You get that, right?”
He balled up a napkin and gritted his teeth.
“I know it pissed you off. But there. Was. Nothing. I. Could. Do.” I’d called him as soon as possible. I’d tried to explain. He wouldn’t listen. Didn’t matter if he listened or not. He never heard me.
“But when there’s money to be passed around, you find a way back.”
“Your logic is bullshit. You know that? I’m the one in this family who has never been hung on possessions and bank accounts.”
“Yeah, you want handouts. No way would you do something boring like get a job and work.”
“How do you figure I haven’t been working?”
“You had Nana Pearl sending you money, right?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
He leaned back in his chair, judging me. A younger version of myself would have crashed a chair against the wall, or maybe taken a fist to his head. But my older, beaten-down self took it. He’d believe what he wanted to believe. He’d go away, and we’d go another few years without speaking.
“Dad said he wired you money.”
“He did. A few times. My ATM card didn’t work in every country. For the first
few years, my bank account was in the US, and my salary was on direct deposit. Sometimes I’d have him wire me money so I could have cash. Credit cards work in some places, but not all. You can’t count on them. I wasn’t borrowing money from him. He was just helping me out.”
“And once he died, you had Nana functioning as your bank?”
“No, she never sent me money.”
“She specifically told me she sent a package to you.”
I shook my head, no idea of what he could be talking about. Then I remembered she’d asked me once about a package I never received. She’d sent candy, and I’d told her not to bother. The chances of a package making it to me were too slim.
“I think she tried to send me something once. I never got it. One of her care packages. So, you’ve been assuming I’ve been off gallivanting, living in resorts, maybe, off their money?”
“You do surf.”
“Nice, Gregg.”
“Well, I came down here to tell you that you’ve got some money waiting for you. Your inheritance.”
“That’s currently in dispute.” I raised my eyebrows.
“Not really. Not if we can come to an agreement. I’ve been growing the company, putting everything into it. It doesn’t seem fair to me that you’d show up ten years later and take half of what I’ve worked for.” He twisted the napkin in his hand, glancing back and forth between me and the table.
“You know damn well I don’t want anything to do with selling insurance. I don’t want to take half of Tate Insurance from you.”
“It’s Tate Financial Services now.”
“Whatever it’s called, I don’t want it.”
“I owe you some money for it. I’d like to buy your portion from you, gradually, as I can afford to without taking on debt.”
“You don’t need to. You know money has never been a driving factor for me.” If anything, I almost hated currency and what it made human beings do to each other and the planet.
“Yeah. For years, I figured you’d come back with your hand out, like a typical liberal. Wanting to go off and play and then expecting a handout. For someone else to work and then you get the—”
“I get it. But no, you can keep it.” I half-laughed and emptied my beer bottle, then set it aside so the waitress would see I needed another one.
“I was so pissed that Nana watched me work my ass off but yet didn’t change her will. When I heard you’d come back to the States, figured you…But it’s not like that with you, is it? And all these years, I assumed…” He assumed the worst. He didn’t need to say more. “But why throw your family away?”
I balled my hand into a fist, then hid the aggressive reflex beneath the table. “I didn’t. You think there’s phone service out there? And besides, when I did call, it was always contentious. Someone stole my phone, and I never bothered buying another one.” I thought back, trying to remember the why. “When I left, it wasn’t a good conversation with Dad. He wasn’t happy with my choice.”
“He’s not a fan of Greenpeace.”
“Yeah, he acted like I was joining an extremist group and headed to prison. I didn’t have a strong urge to keep in touch. And then, all that time on the ship. That kind of became my world. Everything back here felt like another planet. And time went by, and a call felt like a big deal, something I needed time for and not something to do on a borrowed phone. And then I just decided when I got back home I’d talk face to face. Email and a phone didn’t feel…adequate.”
“Why’d you turn off your GPS?”
“I didn’t turn it off. It got crushed when our ship hit a storm.” That had been one of many times I thought I’d die on monster waves.
“You didn’t think about what that would do to us? We had no idea if you were alive or dead. If we should have a memorial service or round up a search party. We had no idea where to search. The last we heard from you, you were somewhere in the Indian Ocean. Did you ever think about Dad? Or Nana?”
A wave of guilt crashed over me. I didn’t think. Not about them. I felt indestructible, and any concern by anyone felt silly. As the years went by, I didn’t feel so indestructible, but I had detached.
“You showed up maybe a month after the reading of the will. No word for so long, and then, out of nowhere.”
“You assumed the worst. Got it. Loud and clear.”
“That’s not fair.”
I gave him a look that said really?
“Who stole Dad’s car when he was fourteen and crashed it? Who snuck out of the house countless times? Who emptied half Dad’s liquor bottles and filled them with water?”
“That was high school. Look…you want to write me off, that’s fine. I don’t care. I left. You’re the one who showed up here. And, just so you know, I don’t even need that blasted inheritance. I did earn money on my own when I was gone. It’s in offshore accounts at the moment. That’s why I called Gabe, because he’s helping me transfer funds.” Gabe had set the accounts up for me a couple of years ago. I had one small account that I used for day to day, and I’d had larger payments sent to the offshore account, partially to minimize taxes, but my intention had been to put it to good use. Donate it or do something worthwhile with it. I lost all the account information when one of my phones went overboard, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Gregg. All that would do is bolster his view of me as a delinquent.
Gregg exhaled loudly and stretched while the waitress picked up our empties and delivered fresh beers.
“You know, a guy called the house looking for you. A while ago. Said he was trying to locate you. Struck me as odd. If you were in trouble and needed my help, would you tell me?”
“Probably not,” I answered. “But I’m telling you the truth. How long ago did that guy call?”
“A few weeks ago. It’s what prompted me to reach out to Gabe.”
I huffed. Traitor.
“Don’t go getting mad at him. I dug into him before he’d share anything. And even then, he didn’t share much.”
The bubbles in my fresh beer floated to the top.
“My old boss knew about the inheritance. Was there an article or something?”
“Little snippet in the Hartford paper, I think. Laura mentioned it.”
“Do you know if dollar amounts were specified?”
“No. Wouldn’t take you long, though, to Google and read whatever he found.”
I gulped my beer, aiming to down it quickly, pay for dinner, and say goodbye.
“Hey, it’s late. What do you say we pay here and pick this up tomorrow? I’m here through Sunday. Besides, I’m sure your girlfriend is sitting at that bar getting hit on.”
I chuckled. “If we were anywhere else, that would be true. On this island, this time of year, it’s all married people or old people. I’m pretty safe.”
“I like her.”
“I do, too.”
“So, you say she’s in grad school?”
I couldn’t hold back my grin as I shook my head at him. “I have to give it to you. It took you hours before you got that question back in for round two.”
He held his hands out and lifted his shoulders in his classic you-got-me move.
“She’s twenty-two.”
“I would’ve guessed twenty.”
“You think I’m wrong to date her, right? She’s too young for me?”
“Nah. You remember my buddy, Dalton? He came around some. He was on my lacrosse team?”
“Yeah, kind of. Big guy, brown hair?”
“Yep. He lives in our neighborhood, on my street, actually. My age, thirty-seven or eight. Guy just left his wife and young twins for his twenty-two-year-old assistant. Now, he’s a total schmuck. His wife gained weight after having twins, and he said he was no longer attracted to her. To me, he’s despicable. Curls my stomach. Laura’s good friends with his wife, so I know a lot.”
I sat back, waiting for him to get to his point.
“In that case, age plays a part. It just adds to the whole sordid picture. I
n your case, you’re not married, no kids, in some ways you’re starting a new life just like she is. Age is just a number. Fourteen, fifteen years isn’t that much. And you guys are both environmentalists. You’ll both spend your weekends picking up litter and planting trees.”
“You are such a fucker.” He laughed. “She can do better than me. You’re right about me starting over.” He nailed that one. “But…she’s me when I was twenty-two. Optimistic, believes she can better the world. I’ve lost that. And I don’t want to dampen her…everything. She’s pretty incredible, and I feel…”
“Hey, maybe you’ll balance her. She’ll inspire you. Show you that you can plant enough trees to improve the oxygen count or whatever…or, what does she do?”
“Right now, she’s focusing on sea turtle conservation.”
“Perfect. You guys can save hundreds of sea turtles together. You’ll help her see that shipping across the world might not be the best choice for a young woman, and thereby save her from the ocean underworld. And she’ll maybe inspire you to get a job. It’s a win-win.”
“It’s amazing how you can annoy me even when you are trying in your own way to be supportive.”
“Nah, seriously, you’ve never met Laura. You’ve missed a lot.” He paused, giving me a pointed stare, casting blame. “But I do believe finding a partnership is a good thing. Laura…she’s my world. And you and Luna, I could see her being that for you.”
I didn’t argue. We paid and headed out. While I agreed she could be great for me, I failed to see me being anything for her long term. Not that it was an issue. Luna wasn’t worried about the long term. At twenty-two, she was all about the now and life experiences. As she should be.
In the morning, I woke with Luna sprawled out over the bed like a starfish. The sheet fell around our feet where she’d no doubt kicked it. She’d been up several times during the night getting water. She and Poppy had had quite a bit to drink by the time we met up with her at Jules. When we got home, we’d had drunken, sloppy, loud sex. I had every intention of encouraging her to go out with Poppy more often.
I kissed her shoulder and caressed her bare buttocks. The rough pads of my fingers against her smooth skin caused her to stir. She groaned and pressed a hand against her head. She wasn’t so young that she was impervious to the after-effects of alcohol. I found her some Advil and refreshed her water, then went downstairs to get the coffee started.