by Daya Daniels
“I get that.”
“You do?”
I give her a firm nod, looking at her eyes that are glassy either from sleepiness or from the weed she believes isn’t affecting her.
Cass laughs out loud. “I never thought anyone would understand that.”
“I went from earning a six-figure salary, having a sprawling apartment that overlooked the water in Point Shares and a fancy car, to living with my parents.” She giggles. “People think I’m innnsane.”
“Oh, fuck what people think Cass. You’re pursuing your dream. You’re living simpler. Sometimes people don’t realize how sometimes having all that shit, only weighs you down.”
“Yeah.” She breathes out. “The rent was expensive. The car payments were expensive and I spent tons of money just keeping up with my so-called friends. The designer clothes and five-star vacations. The fancy parties and dinners. The expensive bottles of wine.” She sighs.
I laugh.
“It was all total and complete bullshit.”
Cass runs a hand over my jaw, feeling the scruff that covers it.
“I hate shaving sometimes.”
“You still look handsome.”
“I need a haircut.”
“You still look handsome.” She repeats with a lazy tongue.
“Can I have another puff of that spliff thing?”
“No.” I answer softly and place a kiss on her cheek.
Cass pouts. “I’m glad I met you, Nico.”
“Why?” I whisper against the soft skin at her temple.
“I fit with you.” She breathes out. “I’ve never fit with anyone like I fit with you.”
I’m curious to know why the pretty girl cradled in my arms feels that way but when I ask the question, there’s no reply. After a closer look, I realize she’s out. I chuckle and stand, holding her against me. I head back inside to put her to bed. She’ll get a good nights sleep, while I plan to stay out on this deck until I hook the grouper that’s stalking its prey under this black water tonight.
Cassandra
When I awake in the morning, my head is pounding and my mouth feels like I’ve just eaten a leg of my Aunt Pearl’s baked chicken - dry. I groan and roll over only to find two aspirin sitting on the small table next to the bed and a glass of orange juice next to it. I sit up and toss back the tiny pink pills and listen to the the sound of Vivir Mi Vida by Marc Anthony on low volume, coming from outside.
The boat rocks softly and I hear banging around upstairs. The headache I had begins to subside. I rush to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I take the steps upstairs to find breakfast already on the table, which is a simple meal of eggs over-easy and bacon. I eye a small box on the floor, noticing that Nico bought a small television. I stifle a laugh, realizing I haven’t seen one like this before in years. Tipping the box, I see that a DVD player comes with it to play movies. A stack of DVDs are next to it, which includes everything from old to new movies like Goodfellas and Pretty Woman. I giggle at the gesture since I don’t think he ever watches television,so clearly, he bought it for me.
I hold a DVD in my hand called Wind, which I’ve never seen. I flip it over, reading the description and laugh when it tells me that the movie is centered around the America’s Cup racing in 1987, held off Fremantle, Australia. A picture of Matthew Modine and Jennifer Grey (Baby from Dirty Dancing) is on the front. A smile spreads across my face when I realize it’s a romance.
Placing it back down, I gaze out the window at the blue sky. The sound of Nico’s voice catches my attention. The remnants of the conversation are obscured by the music and his own singing between the few words he says, but I definitely hear the name Tatiana again. I take a piece of bacon between my teeth and nibble on it.
Nico laughs. It’s loud and hearty, like someone just told him the funniest joke in the world. The sound of it makes me laugh a little. I peer out the window to see him dancing to the music, bare chested and wearing those ratty yellow waders he always has on. He’s holding a very sharp, hooked knife in his hands that’s soaked in blood and his cell phone positioned between his shoulder and ear. A spliff dangles from between his full lips. The smoke occasionally drifts up in the air. He stands stiff. His chest expands with air right before he lets out another loud laugh and utters some words in French. Then he sets the spliff down. His hair is all over his head and he’s in desperate need of a shave but he still looks hella sexy. I bite my lip and scramble for my camera. I put the lens to the peep hole of the door and take a few shots of the deck from inside where I stand. It’s gives the photograph an authentic fish eye impression, which is intriguing. This man is hotness on a stick.
“Tat, you know you’re my baby.” He mumbles, then laughs again. “Oh, my!”
My forehead furrows at his comical reactions. I’m sure he’s high. The loud splash of water across the deck is followed by the sound of a few buckets falling over. It suddenly occurs to me that Nico has probably been up all night fishing.
The music changes to Dark Clouds by C’daynger. Nico starts to sing along and he’s dancing like a fool. I take a few more shots and twist the handle, pushing the door open.
I freeze when I see all the blood on the deck. Nico quickly hangs up the phone.
“Bom dia. Good morning.”
A sixty-pound grouper is lifeless on the deck. He’d caught it. And the plank over to my right is covered in cut up fish and fish parts.
“You might want to put these on.” He suggests, handing me a pair of rubber boots.
I gingerly take them out of his hands and put them on my feet. Nico nudges me to sit in a chair. I look over the dead fish curiously.
“You caught it.”
Nico gives me a glance over his shoulder and a wink. “I told you I would.”
I laugh and sit forward, fiddling with the edge of my T-shirt. I keep my head low, debating if I really want to get into it but the suspense is killing me.
“Who is Tatiana?” I ask without any emotion in my voice.
Nico arches his back towards the sky and takes another puff of the spliff. A strange expression colors his face before he meets my eyes. An amused chuckle leaves his throat.
“I was going to explain this. It isn’t what you think.”
“And what is that?” I ask, pursing my lips and looking away from him.
Nico drops the knife and approaches me leisurely, placing his hands on the arms of the chair I’m sitting in, caging me in. He brings his face close to mine. His thick brows crash together and his eyes narrow before a sexy smirk plays across his features.
“The only woman in my life Cass is you, I promise you that.”
I let out a small chuckle.
“But, I do have a little girl in my life that blows up my phone at all hours of the day and night and forces me to make promises that eventually will be the death of me.” He laughs.
I smirk when I think I understand what he’s getting at. “She’s your daughter.” I breathe out.
Nico gives me a harsh nod and a kiss on the lips. “She’s seven. And she already thinks you’re great.” He says touching the tip of my nose.
He dances across the deck back to the wooden plank, where he cuts up more fish.
“Tatiana.” I repeat to myself, realizing how pretty the name is.
Nico’s a father. A father to a little girl, who likes him to sing to her. I can see how he’d be a good one. He dances to the music, rocking from side to side and swaying to the beat, with moves that are seductive and comical all at the same time and I giggle at the show going on in front of me.
He holds up his index finger. “I’ll explain at the rest later but I want to finish this, go for a swim and then make you lunch.”
“Okay.” I whisper, putting my legs up on the side of the boat. “I should probably eat breakfast first.” I laugh.
He smiles. “Yes, you should. Then we’re going out there.” He says pointing to the blue sea around us.
CHAPTER FOUR
&n
bsp; Cassandra
“So, you brought your Hot Hobo along with you.” Symone teases, sidling up next to me.
I roll my eyes and inch away from her.
“He’s nice – like really, really, nice. Stupidly perfect.” I defend.
“I told you not to fuck him and I can tell you have.” She hisses.
It’s Good Friday. We stand in my parent’s backyard, readying to pitch the kite that Nico and I made this morning. It’s dark green with a large yellow diamond in the middle and a blue globe in positioned in the center of the diamond – same as the Brazilian flag. DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince’s Summertime blares from the speakers out on the grass.
Joseph stands next to Nico making conversation, while the two men have a beer together. My father’s elated that Nico speaks Portuguese, of course. The house is filled with family and children that are scattered everywhere, driving Ayana up a wall. Good Friday was a huge deal for my mother. She always cooked for millions, making fishcakes, hot cross buns, malasadas and decorating Easter eggs for the children.
“Cass.” Symone repeats, bring my attention back to her.
I stare in her direction and sip the fruit punch in my hand. “Why don’t you mind your own business.” I suggest. “You’ve always had trouble doing that.”
Symone huffs. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Well, you’re not.”
Her eyes narrow on Nico in the distance as he stands next to my father, towering over him.
“He could be a model.”
I moan into the cup in my hand.
“God, he really is hot. Hot Hobo. That’s my name for him.”
“You’re such an ass.”
“I bumped into Zoey the other day at the airport. She promised she’d come to see you when she makes it back at the end of the month.”
“Yeah, she said.”
“Have you seen her? I mean it’s like you’ve pulled away from everyone Cass that used to be a part of your old life.”
I widen my eyes at Symone’s accusation. “I haven’t.”
Zoey’s one of my best friends. She remained in London while I returned to the island to work. I see her every now and again but we still text and talk. I just don’t actually see her much.
Symone gives me a skeptical look, still taking occasional glances at Nico across the yard.
“Jesus Christ.” She hisses watching Nico’s shirt edge up when he holds the large kite over his head in a movement that reveals his chiseled abs.
“If Mama heard you say that, she’d pop you in the mouth.”
Symone groans. “I’m not worried about her, Cass.”
I face her head on and smirk at her brave words. She’ll still staring at Nico so I punch her in the arm hard.
“I don’t know.” She says biting the end of her index finger. “I have mixed
feelings about him. He seems nice.”
“Because he is.”
“And those eyes, wow.
“I don’t know, maybe if he wasn’t a fisherman, he’d be a better catch.” She laughs. “Get it? Better catch!”
I roll my eyes. “You’re so corny. And for the record once again, I really don’t care what you think.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I think Stefan is going to ask me to marry him.”
“Wow, really?”
“Yes, really.”
Stefan and Symone had been dating on and off for the last five years. Stefan was an asshole but Symone loved him. To make matters worse, my future brother-in-law was good friends with Rupert, which made him a double asshole in my eyes. I kept my feelings to myself but Symone must have known that this entire set up gave me a migraine.
“You would say yes?” I ask, my top lip curling up into a snarl.
“Of course.”
“Wow.” I mumble turning away from her.
She doesn’t respond to my three-letter statement, only looks around at the group in the distance that are fiddling around with kite string and strips of torn bed sheets that serve as kite tail.
“I’m getting drunk today.” She blabs out.
“You?” I ask, as if she told me the biggest lie in history.
“Yes, me. I’m getting drunk today.”
I purse my lips and lift my brows, not believing a word that falls from her crimson-red lips.
“If you say so.”
I take in the clear sky above, appreciating the weather that’s pleasant enough to fly kites in. Symone disappears some place.
Nico and Joseph get the massive kite up in the air. As soon as it goes up, the wind takes it away. A few family members clap and cheer at the sight. Joseph looks back and gives me a huge toothy grin. I head over and stand next to Nico, watching him let out the string. I place my arm around his back, holding on to his side. He glances down at me and smirks.
“Are you having fun?” I ask.
“Yeah, yeah this is fun. I haven’t flown a kite since I was a kid.” He laughs.
“We do it every year.”
“What’s the significance? There has so be some legend or story behind it.” He smiles.
“Of course.” I say sweetly. “Do you see the cross on the kite?”
“Yeah.” Nico says softly.
“When we fly kites on Good Friday, it symbolizes the ascension of Jesus into heaven.”
“Interesting.” Nico says, taking a long sip of beer and squinting his eyes against the sun.
“Are you both going to stay for dinner?” Joseph asks, reaching in the cooler to grab another Sagres.
Nico shrugs and meets my eyes. “Yes, I think we will. Obrigado. Thank you.”
“Okay.” I whisper.
Joseph stumbles away to speak to a few uncles. In the distance, Ambrose arrives with a few of his friends stuffed in the back seat of his blue Mazda 323, that his daughter drives in. The sight is almost comical.
“Happy Easter!” Ambrose shouts, stumbling to the party like there’s an earthquake beneath his feet, holding a few baskets of candies for the kids.
They go crazy when they see him.
Hot Hot Hot by Arrow blares from the speakers set outside in the yard. A few aunts, uncles and cousins stand and begin to dance, doing their best soca moves.
Nico chuckles at the sight. “Is this how you spend Easter here?” He giggles. “This is fun. Drinking. Flying kites. Eating. Talking. Drinking some more...it’s fucking mwah.”
I laugh with him. “What do they do in Brazil for Easter?”
“In Brazil, Easter is a part of Semana Santa or Holy Week. It’s big.” He explains wrapping an arm around my waist.
Nico pulls me to his firm chest. I blush at the affection and lift my eyes only to find my entire family watching us and mumbling. Staring into Nico’s eyes, I spot something I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. He looks at me like I’m the most adorable thing in the world. My cheeks heat when he runs his fingers over my cheek.
“Is he from here?” I hear a woman’s voice ask in the distance.
I roll my eyes and try my best to ignore the nosey voices.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen him before. Doesn’t he look like one of the Michelson’s? Or one the Bentley boys? I think I know his mother.” She says referring to Nico. “I swear I used to work with a woman maybe fifteen years ago that looks like she could be his mother.”
I pay the group no mind.
“No, no Francine. I think he’s from the Sorren family. I don’t know. He looks like a Sorren, doesn’t he? I bet he’s from the Sorren family.
“He’s tall and gorgeous.” Muriel gushes. “I think I know his father!”
I groan, meeting Nico’s eyes. “Do you see what I mean? They think they know everyone. Oh, my God. I guess you’re the topic of the day.”
Nico smiles and gives me a blank look. Then he laughs when he sees how annoyed I am.
I twist around and spot my mother through the kitchen window, vigorously washing more dishes. She looks angry – maybe even close to exploding.<
br />
“I’m going to go and help my mother, okay.” I tell Nico, tapping him on the shoulder.
“Do you know his last name?” Francine asks Muriel, taking a sip of the rum swizzle in her hand.
I roll my eyes and head back inside the house, wishing I could dump the entire thing in the old bag’s lap.
Cassandra
“Are you okay, Mama?”
Ayana spins around and gives me a forced smile. Then she groans.
“I don’t know why you do this every Easter. I know it’s tradition but it isn’t fair that you do everything, Mama.”
Ayana sighs, scrubbing a pot in the sink like she’s dishing out vengeance on it. I nudge her aside and take over the scrubbing. She wipes her hands on her apron.
“I do it for the family, Cass. You know dat.”
“Yeah, yeah but you’re taking on too much.”
“I know.” She sighs.
“You look pretty today.” I compliment when I see that her long thick hair is up in a fancy twist and a bright pink shade is painted on her lips.
“Thanks, Cass.”
I give her a smirk and return to washing. The kitchen is stuffed with food and coolers full of liquor.
Ayana mumbles a few things under her breath and steps away from me. “I want you to take these malasadas outside for everyone, when you finished with dat.”
“Okay, Mama.”
Ayana leans against the counter scanning me over blatantly. She’s always had a strange way of looking at the people she loves, as if she smells shit. Her face is twisted and her big eyes bulge out at me. Up, down. Up, down – her eyes rove over me. She takes a sip of her hot tea, even though sweat already sheens her forehead.
“Has dat man out there told you he loves you?” She asks, lifting a brow.
I continue to scrub the pot beneath the water and laugh. Like really laugh.
“What? Nooo. We’ve just met. It isn’t like that.”
“Well, what is it like then?” She asks inching closer to me. She tips my head with her thumb and index finger, still holding her tea cup in the other hand. She examines my face for the answer to the question she’d just asked.