Book Three_A Codependent Love Story

by Paloma Meir

  My spirit guide Hani, and yes that was how I thought of him on the first holy day of back breaking work, brought me a bottle of pineapple juice and a strip of the jerky I had declined. A rich, smoky, salty flavor that I’m sure I will be craving until my dying day.

  On the dot at four, Danny showed up honking his Haolie car, waving me over. I reluctantly turned my shovel over to Hani, saying the island farewell of k’den, and a smattering of other words I picked up throughout the day, telling him I would see him the next day. He laughed, but he seemed to spend most of the day laughing, so I didn’t take it personally.

  Lots of talk on the way back to his home. My back pains grew crippling. I reached to the console and turned up the seat heater to maximum, adjusting the air conditioning directly onto my sweaty dirty body. I listened to him not offering him much in way of conversation beyond a few mmmhmms.

  I crawled, or at least it felt that way back to my cottage, rejecting his offer of joining the family in the main house for dinner. I passed out on my bed, shoes still on. I woke briefly around midnight to find a tray of pasta and a carafe of water on the bedside table. I ravenously ate it while returning Caitlin’s text asking me why I wasn’t answering my phone and fell right back to sleep. I woke up crusty and I mean that literally, the sweat and dirt on my clothes and body had congealed, hardening overnight.

  Into the shower, the hot water soothed my back that had begun to hurt upon standing up. At the gate at 5:30 dressed in khaki shorts and an undershirt. My Nikes ruined looking but suitable for hard labor.

  “Looking good, Serge.” The Golden God Danny shouted across the yard as he approached me, pink lunchbox in hand as stuffed looking as the day before. He spoke a steady stream of his theories on the way to the site. The subject that day was of the “angry little fuck” category. I nodded not really listening, eager for the peace of hard labor and my new friends who truthfully hadn’t much warmed up to me the day before.

  “You put a lot of pressures on yourself, hiding, being the golden boy. It would make anyone angry dude.” These were his words to ponder that day. I accepted it graciously not really paying attention. I even thanked him. His heart was in the right place. He was a good man, I thought as I bound out of the car searching for my magic shovel.

  And so it went. By the end of the week, the muscles in my body that had been hiding under a layer of soft flesh popped when I exerted them. My olive skin that had a sallow yellowish tinge, was dark again, as it had been in Peru, and Malibu. My expertly trimmed hair was longer, the front long enough to enable my habit of pushing it with my fingers, a habit that had always comforted me.

  The patois I picked up, easy to decipher, these were English-speaking men. It was more a sprinkling than a whole different language. I wouldn’t say I was one of them, but my company was less of a curiosity. An acceptance was offered, and acceptance was accepted.

  Hani tried to offer me a more skilled job on the crew, but no, I kept my shovel and the peace it brought to me. The ghost of my father, who was not even close to death, worked along beside me.

  By the second week I wasn’t passing out at the end of the day, and my body aches had subsided. Still I took my dinner in my cottage, talking to Caitlin, catching up on the advances, the CERN gossip. She spoke of me coming out to visit, giving me a tour, possibly an opening in her department at the intern level. Wasn’t interested I would tell her, off the phone, and to sleep at an early hour.

  …

  I would see traces of Zelda through the windows of her home while coming and going, or out at the pool with Astrid in the kids. I didn’t speak to her, preferring a wave. She would stare after me but I pretended I didn’t notice.

  “Zelda,“ I said as she walked alone towards the gate early one morning about a month into my new life as a day laborer, “Good morning, you’re up early.”

  “I made you lunch,” she handed me my pink lunch box.

  “You make it every day, and it fills me up. Excellent meal planning, all food groups represented. I’ve been meaning to thank you and Louisa too.” I held up the lunchbox showing the faded name written in a very young cursive, Louisa Goldberg.

  “I’ve been meaning to get you a new one,“ she smiled, and I saw a tenseness I hadn’t noticed before.

  “Everything okay, Zelda?” I placed my hand on her shoulder in what I hoped was a paternal way but it felt brotherly. I almost cursed Danny aloud.

  “We’re having some people over tonight, flying in from the mainland…” She looked away, and I couldn’t tell if she was nervous or tired from the early morning hour, “The cottages will be filled up. Lots to do today…” I took my hand off of her shoulder.

  “Do you need me to move? Free up my room?” I tried to catch her eye, but no such luck, “I’ve been thinking of moving in with Toma and Fred. They have a little shack just off the construction site.”

  “What?” She turned sharply to me, “No Serge…” She shook her head as if trying to wake herself up, “Oh I see… that’s not what I meant. I was inviting you in for dinner tonight, a family dinner.”

  “I don’t know Zelda, plans tonight…”

  “What plans? Where do you go?” She sighed and looked me right in the eye, holding my gaze, “I’ve only seen you in passing since that day… and now you want to move to a shack? Are you not happy here? Did you lose your money?”

  “I…” I didn’t know what to say.

  “I don’t do well without you either… and now you’re drifting away again… and the worst part is you’re right here.”

  I saw Danny bounding the stairs of the deck talking in a low voice on his phone, not seeing Zelda and myself.

  “I’m not going to drift away,” I took her hand in mine and gave her a kiss on the cheek, manning myself. I would be strong for her. “I’m just settling into the island, meeting new people… And I’ll be here for dinner. Okay? Best friends, right Zelda?”

  “Hey babe,” he came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her, very territorial. “Tell me you didn’t ruin the surprise.”

  “No,” she said with a touch of falseness in her voice, as if she were forcing herself to be happy. So perplexed was I with her I did not contemplate Danny’s surprise. “A little chilly this morning,” She pulled the sweater I bought for her back in L.A. tightly around her night-gowned figure, “You two have a good day.” She lightly released herself from Danny’s hold and made her ethereal way back into the house, a ghost in the morning fog.

  “Is she all right Danny?” I asked as we headed off to the construction site.

  “Yes,” he nodded his head as if he were trying to convince himself, “She has a busy day today, and David didn’t sleep well last night, so you know, we didn’t sleep well last night.” He said with a lot of pride.

  “Sex talk dude,” he said in a very serious voice as he adjusted his seat belt.

  “Only if we can talk about my sex with Zelda,” I held up my hand laughing, “Joke, dude.” I relaxed back into my seat as a smile crossed his face, “I get it Danny, You’re right about all of it. I was an angry kid, but I channeled it into sports, academics, into sex. Productive, channeled well.”

  “I did want talk about you and Zelda…”

  “No need Danny… These weren’t things I liked to consider throughout my life… but coming to the island, being with the two of you, it is what it was. It’s peaceful here. Hard work, good life.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, and thank you Danny.” I leaned his way, taking in his profile, the glow of a man with a life well lived. I glanced in the mirror to see in my reflection the same qualities.

  “Can’t pick you up tonight.” he said after a long silence as we pulled up to the construction site, “Hani or Toma will bring you back, and Serge take a shower, clean yourself before you come into the main house.” He smiled, looking me directly in the eyes, and of course nodding his head in the sage like way he did sometimes.

  “What’s the occasion?’ I asked as I op
ened the door to the car.

  “Zelda’s birthday, 35… Your birthday too, buddy.” He leaned over, pulled the door tightly shut and drove off before I could form a question in my perplexed mind. Was it really the end of August? Exactly how long had I been on the island?

  Twenty-Eight

  I walked the path towards the main house clutching a bouquet of pink, red and white roses, not an easy find on a tropical island. I heard the sounds of a live band, very percussion heavy, but playing at a low enough level for conversation.

  I glanced down at my outfit of black cotton slim cut pants that were a little loose on me, and a white short sleeve button down. I wore it a little more unbuttoned than I would have back home in LA. I hadn’t worn real clothes in over two months. If it weren’t for the black flip flops on my feet, I would have felt like an imposter. I didn't know if sandals were up to the dress code of the evening, but it was the best I could do.

  “Astrid, you don’t have to do this… We have help… Join the others outside.” Zelda said as the kitchen door swing open to her beauty. Like a work of art she was, Madonna and Child, her son asleep across her chest. His arms wrapped her, a carbon copy of his pearlescent mother.

  “Serge…” she glanced away from Astrid, who had not changed or aged one day since I last saw her, “Come meet David,” she whispered loudly as she angled her body to reveal his cherubic face. “Astrid… go.”

  She retreated through the kitchen, out the side door as I stood dumbly holding out flowers to the one who did not have the hands available to take them from me.

  “Thank you, Serge. How ever did you find them? So perfect… such full blossoms.”

  “Toma… We left work early. He knows a florist…” I stopped speaking, the insanity of the conversation too much, “You look beautiful, and your son, so handsome, sleeps like a baby.” I laughed at my own rather dumb joke.

  “Come upstairs with me. We’ll put him down in his bed. I hoped he would stay awake for the evening…”

  I handed the flowers off to a server who reached out to take them from me and followed her up the stairs. I noticed as we walked down the long hallway on the second floor that the framed pictures of my drawings were no longer there. I expected a pang, but did not feel one.

  “I don’t know if the surprise is one you should go into without any warning…” She said as she lay her son down upon his dark wooden bed, better fit for a king than a boy not even two years old, “Our parents are here… Carolina, and even Brendan… also…”

  “That is a surprise… a good one Zelda.” I held out my hand, “Come on, let's go downstairs. It’s out by the pool from the sound of it, right?” She took my hand and held it tight as if nervous.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve never liked sitting away from you, but you know that.” I slowed our pace and tried to make eye contact with her, to calm whatever was upsetting her, “And as the excellent hostess you have always been aware, I’m sure that this will not be a problem.”

  “I’m on your right, and Carolina is on your left.” I felt her hand relax in mine. I had no idea what was going on, but I felt good that my patter had settled her down.

  “Serge…” she said as we stepped out on to the porch, only to be cut off by, well, everyone. An enormous “surprise” was yelled out to us as we stood together.

  Brendan bounded up the steps and pulled my head down into a locked position, rubbing it hard. I felt as if my scalp were on fire.

  “Duuude,” he yelled in my ear, the scent of alcohol heavy on his breath, “You’re here, real buddy.”

  I made the expected conversation, genuinely happy to see him, but was overall distracted not by the sight of my parents chatting away with Zelda’s parents, but to where Zelda had wandered off to while I stood with an inebriated Brendan. On the edge of the pool, and it was a magnificent pool with jets of water shooting up from the side creating a wave like tunnel which Louisa and her sister were swimming through with one of their many nannies, stood Zelda talking with her oldest friends Theodora and Veronica.

  My head felt light, and my body strong as I gazed upon the beauty of the one who thought of me as her mortal enemy. Didn’t matter, I thought with a surprisingly Neanderthal force of thought. It was pretty clear to me that the one who was a mere thirty feet away from in a plunging, silky floral dress with the highest of olive colored patent leather sling back heels would be mine.

  She may have come in under the pretense of celebrating Zelda’s birthday, and I had no doubt that she had not been told about Zelda sharing the occasion with me, but again, didn’t matter. My friend, who fancied himself a Master of the Universe with all of his plans had set this up. Maybe more for Zelda’s sake than mine, but the end result would be the same. She never had a chance.

  “Dude,” Brendan slurred, “What are you staring at?” His line of vision followed my eye line, “Better not be Zelda… Still can’t believe you fucked her.“ He laughed, and I didn’t mind his vulgarity. It was Brendan after all, the heart of an angel from above filled his chest.

  “Yeah… me too,” I put my hand on his shoulder and led him to the bar not far from where the three of them stood, “I’m going to catch up with you. What are you drinking?” A touch of liquid courage would help my game.

  “You’re going to drink? Fuck yeah, get it on.” He wobbled and yelled out as we walked down the small set of steps down to the grass.

  “Yes I am, Brendan.” I said loudly hoping to get Veronica’s attention. It did not work.

  “The three of them are still hot… Even with Theodora doing her natural aging thing.”

  I hadn’t done more than glance at Theodora, but yes my good friend was correct. I wouldn’t say the dress she wore was matronly in any way, only high fashion for the three of them. However hers was the most subdued in earthy colors and a loose fit, longer, much longer than the dresses Veronica and Zelda wore. Her hair pulled back tight showing streaks of gray, and her painterly face was free of make-up. She looked older than her two friends, but had a serene quality I was happy to see, even though I had never been particularly close with her.

  We were stopped several times on the way to the bar. First, by my parents, who I was happy to see, but I hadn’t done a disappearing act on them. They knew I had been staying here. I spoke to them every Sunday as I had done most of my adult life. My father awkwardly hugged me. I returned his stilted affection with warmth, surprising myself with the force of my embrace. My mother, a gentle kiss on the cheek and some mild chitchat.

  Danny, my sister and his parents sat on the end of the long white linen covered table where we would all be dining were a little harder to shake off. Brendan and his jovial mood covered most of the conversation. Danny caught my eye, and with a gesture of his head pointed me to the three muses who still stood in repose by the side of the pool. Veronica did notice me, and made her displeasure clear by taking off her shoes, holding them up above her head with a most artificial smile and throwing them backwards into the Plumeria bushes.

  “I’ve got it covered,” I said to Danny as I winked at the indignant goddess that was Veronica.

  “Don’t let me down man,” his voice trailed as Brendan and I finally made it to the bar. It had a small line of people ahead of us, one of who was Larkin. Brendan was impressed and had apparently memorized his complete filmography. I quieted him down. The only problem I could see with this party was there were entirely too many people.

  Our drinks in hand, also the bottle of a Tanqueray, the two of us sat on a lounge off from the crowd of people. A lot of “I love you, man’s” were exchanged as we partially caught up on the lost years. I didn’t go deep with conversation. Brendan would be staying for the week. A more meaningful conversation could be had the next day, as we nursed our hangovers, hopefully in the place we sat at that moment.

  A dinner bell was rung by a chef in an all white outfit, a fanciful creased hat upon his head. Zelda, the master of all things visual had created the perfect evening, all thi
ngs genuine with a slight theatrical edge. Good job, Ms. Moreau.

  Brendan and I parted ways at the table upon reading the calligraphy seating cards. I was as Zelda promised seated between her and my sister. Brendan was to the right of Danny, and Danny’s father to his left. The table was long, with plumeria blossoms strewn about creating a sweet scent. Bottles of Champagne in silver buckets every two or three pace settings, a glint of crystal from the flutes in front of us.

  I garishly placed my bottle of gin in front of me, causing Zelda to laugh as she down next to me. Veronica unhappily sat down across me, rolling her eyes, and tossing gamma rays Zelda’s way as if it had just dawned on her the subtext of the evening. A smart one she was. I smiled leeringly her way. She sneered.