by Zana Bell
Cressa stared. “My family is everything.” She spoke slowly, as if weighing the veracity of the words for the first time.
“There you are,” said Alicia, as she bent and pulled out a weed. “To plant a garden, to grow a family, needs constant care and stability.” She was meddling, she knew, but for Adam’s sake she decided to give getting through to Cressa one last try. “The life you describe is wonderful if you’re doing it for the right reasons and not using it to run away. Pain has to be felt at some point, Cressa. It, too, is an integral part of life.”
Cressa brushed her hair off her face, brushed Alicia’s words away. “There’s nothing I’m running away from now. Sure, I ran away from my wedding and Brian, but that was two years ago. Now I’m happy. Everything’s fine, okay. As to pain—frankly, Alicia, I don’t know what you’re on about.”
Once again, Cressa dodged acknowledging her baby, just picked up her spade and began digging.
Alicia followed suit, feeling she had failed. As long as Cressa remained locked in denial, it would erode her life as surely as alcohol had eroded Alicia’s own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“THIS IS CRAZY,” said Adam, “but kinda fun. I’ve never been to a sandbank party.”
He was rowing with his own particular blend of elegance and economy of movement, the oars barely splashing in the waters stained yellow with the setting sun. The sky was clear and the moon hung low between two small mountains. His black hair was swept back off his face and Cressa wished she’d brought her camera as she tried to imprint his image on her mind. Hard to believe that in a few days this flesh-and-blood man before her would be reduced to a couple of photos and some memories. Good memories.
Filming for Cressa was over. The last action scenes with her character were completed. The location shoot was done, too. The community had invited the cast and crew to a farewell party on the sandbank. The locals had enjoyed the excitement of having actors in the midst, enjoyed the lift to the economy. Besides, any excuse for a party.
“You’ll love it.” She tried to sound enthusiastic. Usually she adored socializing, but, tonight, she wasn’t in a party mood. “I can’t believe everything is ending all at once. The filming, you going.”
“And you off to sail the seven seas. Well, the Pacific at any rate.”
“Yeah.” She just didn’t have any of her normal anticipation for the next phase of her life. “I’ll miss you.”
There were three words she’d never uttered before.
Adam smiled but didn’t say anything. He’d been preoccupied all day. Maybe his thoughts were already slipping forward a few days, forward seven thousand miles. It would be understandable if they were. What she couldn’t understand was why it pained her to acknowledge this. He was only playing by her rules. Why did she resent him for that?
As they drew close to the sandbank, they could see people silhouetted against the dying light of the sun. A bonfire had been built and the generator hummed as the technicians set up the sound system. Motorboats, rowboats and kayaks were pulled up into a small bay tucked into the wide sweep of sand, and people were busy unloading ice chests, unfolding chairs and greeting old friends. Kids darted around, and farther down the beach a few teenagers were throwing a luminous Frisbee. The air was lively with chatter and laughter, but all sounds were still mellow and muted in the vast theater of the bay.
Their boat scraped sand. Adam shipped the oars and leaped into the water. Cressa moved to help him, but he said, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” so she sat back to enjoy watching him draw them ashore. There was something almost primeval in the act, plugging into the early days when a man always made land first. It felt ridiculously good, though she shot him a you-gotta-be-kidding-me look when he held out a hand to help her from the boat. He grinned as she jumped unaided onto the sand, and dropped a kiss on her head.
There was a shriek. “Cressa!”
Sam bounded forward and hugged her. “Bring your stuff and set up camp with us.”
She led them to the circle of firelight, where Bridget was laying out cheeses and crackers on a wobbly table, while Jeremy and Hank sorted out the portable barbecue. Adam cracked a beer and went to join the guys, and Cressa took the plastic cup of wine Bridget held out to her.
“This is great!” said Sam, gesturing at the wide sky. “I’ll miss this place. It gets under the skin, doesn’t it?”
“Northland’s special,” said Cressa through a mouthful of cracker. “I’ve had some brilliant times in Aroha Bay.”
“Especially recently.” Sam nudged her, then looked over at Hank. “I’ve had a lot of fun, too.”
“Yeah,” said Bridget, smiling across at Jeremy. “Happy memories.”
“Are you going to stay in touch?” asked Cressa.
“Of course!” said Sam.
Cressa smiled. “I wasn’t talking about us, stupid. Of course we will. I was talking about them.” She motioned with her chin to the men around the barbecue. The glow from the flames lit their faces, and Adam’s skin looked almost gold. He stood with beer in one hand, barbecue fork in the other, turning sausages. All three men were chatting, but Steve and Jeremy were angled toward Adam. Strange, how Adam never pushed himself forward yet somehow became the center.
“Nah,” said Sam. “Hank’s going to Australia. Still, it’s been fun while it lasted. Says he’ll give me a call if he’s back this way. Oh, look, garlic bread. I’ll get the guys to start toasting this.”
She stepped away and Cressa turned to Bridget. “What about Jeremy?”
“He’s going to move down to Wellington to be with me,” Bridget said. “He’s fairly confident he’ll get a job.” Dropping her voice, she added, “He’s talking marriage. I told him rubbish, that we’ve only known each other a few months and been going out a few weeks, but he says he’s sure and is just waiting for me to make up my mind.”
“Marriage?” Cressa was taken aback. “That’s fast.”
“Shh, keep your voice down. I don’t want Sam to hear. She’ll just make jokes—you know how she is.”
“So what’ll you do?” Cressa asked in lowered tones.
“I don’t know. I keep thinking I’ll say yes, but then I get scared. What if he’s the wrong guy? Except, I imagine life without him and that terrifies me even more.” Seeing Sam return, she spoke in a normal tone. “And you, about to sail away. How wonderful is that?”
“I know. Fate must have had my name written all over the job.”
“When does Adam fly out?” Sam asked.
“Tuesday.”
“So soon?” Sam glanced at Adam, her head to one side. “I’ll say this for you, Cressa. You’re a stronger woman than I am, being able to walk away from a glorious specimen of manhood like that. Come on, let’s join the guys.”
“You go. I’ll just sort things out here.” Cressa held back while Bridget and Sam went over to the men. She busied herself tidying the small table, but watched her two friends. Both were so alive in the moment, one with scant regard for imminent separation and the other on the verge of something both wonderful and terrifying.
Cressa ought to be excited, too. The Maria Louisa was the chance of the lifetime. But the joy of the evening was clouded with the forthcoming farewells. She so didn’t want this clinging fear of saying goodbye.
“Cressa,” Bridget called. “Bring the marshmallows. They should be dessert, but why delay wondrous joy, I always say.”
And why let it go?
ADAM WAS ENJOYING the evening. Life was always fun with Cressa. They’d eaten burned sausages wrapped in bread and smothered in onions, tomato sauce and mustard. She’d said he couldn’t leave New Zealand without experiencing the finest Kiwi cuisine. There’d also been steaks and salad, great wine, lots of talking, lots of laughter.
All the time, though, he was aware of the envelope in his inside jacket pocket. He’d acted on impulse, and a stupid one at that. Cressa had already chosen her path. Still, he owed it to Des. She’d taken the risk; he had to, t
oo.
When the eating finished, the sound system was cranked way up and dancing began. He could see Cressa swaying to the music, ready to be drawn into the press of bodies, but he grabbed her hand. “Hey, let’s go exploring.”
He was kidding, of course. Nothing but a big sandbank stretched into the darkness.
“Sure.”
As they headed away from the fire, their feet crunching on the shell-strewn beach, they suddenly saw shards of light shooting away under them. From the delighted yells of the teenagers, they’d just noticed, also.
“Phosphorescence!” Cressa exclaimed. “Man, we’re lucky. It doesn’t often happen in the bay.”
It was like walking on a disco floor. Under the thin crust of shells, lightning jags raced away from each footstep. Adam tossed a big shell into the water, where it splintered the surface with brilliant sparks and sank, a fireball in the blackness.
“If it wasn’t so cold, we could swim,” said Cressa. “It looks fabulous being covered in green fire.”
“Yeah?”
His tone must have given his thoughts away. She stopped short. “Oh, no way!”
“There are a couple of towels and a blanket in the boat.”
“Tell me you’re joking.”
“If I hadn’t seen you a month ago swimming at midnight, I’d think you were chicken.”
It was too dark to see, but he felt the look she cast at him. “Chicken?”
He made a clucking sound. That got her. “You have the count of three to fetch the damn towels.”
With a laugh he ran down to the boats. When he returned, she was hopping on one bare foot and swearing as she wrestled off her second sock. “We have to go to the island or our clothes will be soaked. The water comes up through the sand.”
Phosphorescence lit their steps all the way to the tiny island at the far end. There they stripped, then put clothes, towels and blanket on the rocks to keep them dry. The moon was high in the sky now, pearl-white in the blackness; the stars stood out in sharp definition.
“This is bloody crazy,” said Cressa as she tossed her jeans onto the rocks.
Adam would have agreed, but at that moment she yanked off her T-shirt, then her bra. The moonlight on her breasts made him catch his breath. The cold, two seconds later, stole it completely as he threw off his clothes.
“The only way to do this is fast.”
“Agreed,” said Cressa, shivering.
“On the count of three. One—”
Both ridiculously competitive, they leaped together two counts early. When Adam surfaced, he could hardly hear Cressa’s expletives; his mind was flash-frozen. His body, unfortunately, was not. Could one die of cold in Northland? Cressa’s leap had been shallower because she’d tried to keep her braid, twisted into a knot on top of her head, dry. Now she floundered in the water, vigorously moving arms and legs, attempting to get warm. Liquid fire surrounded her and she looked exotic, a mythological maiden in fairy water.
“We gotta swim.” The cold strangled his voice.
Their strokes were jerky as they began making their way around the island.
“It’s really hard not to curl into a fetal position.” Cressa’s words came in gasps, as though turning to icicles in her throat.
Adam concurred. His whole body protested violently, but determined to push through, he concentrated on the beauty of the waters breaking bright around him, the sparkling bubbles that frothed on his limbs. As they got halfway around, the agony began to ease. His body was either becoming accustomed to the water or was completely numb. Cressa’s breathing smoothed out from short gasps to something approaching normal, and by the time they were three-quarters around the island, they were able to exchange smug comments.
“This is fantastic,” said Cressa, pulling up and treading water as she turned slowly, gazing at the moon and stars.
“It is,” said Adam, looking at the illuminated lines of her body. Unable to resist, he tugged her to him. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, and he cursed his numbness. Their lips were not so cold, however, and the warmth of Cressa’s mouth was extraordinarily erotic in contrast with the freezing water. He kissed her deeply, the underlying pain of imminent parting added poignancy to the moment. The water was too cold for them to stay still long, though. With a sigh she broke off and leaned back, legs still wrapped around his waist, bathed in phosphorescence, with sparks of light caught on her cheeks. Adam groaned.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I have never desired a woman quite so much and have never been so completely handicapped.”
She laughed and kissed him again. “I’m hot inside,” she whispered against his lips.
He groaned anew, more theatrically this time. “I doubt I’ll be able to find that out.”
“Let’s see,” she said.
They swam back to shore and hobbled on numbed feet to their towels. As they rubbed off hard, they laughed, but still had to don all their clothes to stop their teeth chattering and quell the violent shivers that rocked their bodies. Then Adam spread out the blanket and they lay down, entwined, to continue the kiss. Cressa tasted of salt with a lingering touch of wine, and Adam thought how well that combination suited her personality. The ground was hard and lumpy, so he swung her onto him, and she sighed as she stretched her length against his, her hands buried in his hair as their kiss deepened. He wriggled his hands under her jacket, her sweater, her T-shirt until they found the satin of her skin. His fingers had already learned her body and they roamed now to the points that he loved, to the places he knew would drive her wild. As she gave a little moan of pleasure and snuggled her hips closer to his, Adam discovered that his mind and body were back in communication.
“Glad to see you’ve recovered from the cold,” Cressa murmured, and for the second time, they removed their clothes, this time slowly, layer after layer, savoring each stage, until they were flesh on flesh, Cressa’s hair loose and warming them both. She was indeed as hot as she’d promised, and as they moved together, generating their own heat, Adam held on in sweet, delicious agony until Cressa let go that small wild cry she always gave just before climaxing then he let himself go and when they came together, it was as though the phosphorescence was splintering all around and inside them.
Both were breathing hard, and Adam held her tight against him. She clung to him.
“Really going to miss you, mate.”
The hoarse catch in her voice made him ask, “Will you?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve got a birthday present for you.”
“Oh, Adam, what is it? A Stetson? I’ve always wanted one.”
“No.”
He reached over and pulled the envelope out of his jacket pocket. She took it with a quizzical expression.
“What’s this? A gift voucher? Scared of buying the wrong thing?”
Very. But he had, all the same.
He watched her face as she drew the piece of paper out of the envelope. She had to squint as she tried to read in the dark. Then her face went blank. “Is this a plane ticket?”
“Yeah. An open return, leaving on my flight.”
“Oh, Adam, this is way too much. A box of chocolates would have been just fine.”
“You don’t eat chocolates. You’re too disciplined. Besides, I wanted to get you something memorable.”
“This is memorable, all right. But I can’t accept it. It’s too much. It’ll have cost you a bomb.”
“You’re worth it.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “Besides, it’s not as generous as you might think. It’s also my present to me. You’re my reward for all my hard study.”
A smile flickered, but her eyes remained glued to the ticket. “Wow, I can’t believe you’re asking me to go to the States.”
“Why not? Just for a few weeks, before flying back to catch your boat.” He tried to sound casual, tried not to show that he scarcely dared breathe. “It’ll be fun.”
Various emotions crossed he
r face. Doubt, excitement, happiness—the beginning of fear. She started to shake her head, so he added quickly, “Only for a holiday. Come hang out for a few weeks. You’ll love Texas.”
She pushed herself up, shivered and began pulling on clothes. Without her warmth, he shivered, too, and followed suit. That kept them busy while she made up her mind.
This was crazy. What had he been thinking? She was all set to say goodbye. He was crazy to have gotten involved, knowing she’d break his heart at some stage.
“What about your MCAT?” she asked.
“I can study during the day and you can go sightseeing.”
“I guess.”
She still sounded dubious. Clearly, the idea had been a dumb one. They put on socks and shoes and rose together. Finish it now, he told himself. Give her an out and yourself a break. Neither of us needs this.
“Look,” he began, “just forget—”
At the same time she said, “Okay, for a month.”
She didn’t fling her arms around his neck the way he’d hoped, but she hadn’t refused, as he’d feared. Execution temporarily stayed. He pulled her back into his arms. “A month? That would be great.”
Anything could happen in a month.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE UNITED STATES WAS VAST. Cressa found it hard to conceive how huge as she peered out the window of the airplane to see land stretching to the horizon. “Is that the Grand Canyon?” she breathed.
“Sure is,” said Adam, craning to look over her shoulder. “It’s real good to see America again.”
The airports were vast and teeming with people. The Texas countryside was vast and flat.
“My stuff’s in storage,” said Adam. “I gave up my apartment when I went to New Zealand. A friend is lending me his home in Galveston while he’s away in Europe for a couple of months. He left a car at the airport for us. We’ll get my bike tomorrow.”
They found the big SUV and drove down to Galveston. Everything was both the same and different. There were freeways, but they were broad and concrete and looked more like giant, never-ending driveways than roads. Everyone drove on the wrong side. Traffic lights were strung across the roads on wires. Despite being light-headed with fatigue, Cressa couldn’t bear to close her eyes. When they drove across a massive spanned bridge to Galveston, the sense of unreality expanded.