A Beautiful Mistake

by Ashlee Price

  Chapter Two

  Dustin

  The sun beats down on my bare back as I lie face-down on top of my surfboard. Only a thin sheet of water separates my chest from the resin coating the fiberglass cloth, water that glistens all around me, splashing around my fingers as I paddle to my spot.

  When I reach it, I turn my board around. I sit on it and wait for the next wave.

  It comes. Its white tip rises out of the ocean to greet me. The race begins.

  I get back down on my surfboard and paddle with long, deep strokes. Adrenaline pumps through my veins. I don't look back. I know the wave is coming. After all my years of surfing, every fiber of my body can sense it. Every muscle is getting ready.

  With each second, the wave comes closer, rising even more. And I, too, rise.

  I place my hands on my board, palms flat against it. My wrists turn as I push my chest and knees off, my legs straight. My toes support their weight. Then I bring my back foot forward. My other foot follows like clockwork. It slides and stops between my hands. The sole of my foot comes in contact with the board and I take off. I stand with knees bent.

  The wind slaps against my skin and pastes the loose strands of my hair, the ones that have escaped from the hair tie, against my cheeks. I taste salt. Beneath me, the water rocks.

  I know I can fall at any moment, but I don't give in to fear. I catch the wave. I ride it. I become one with it. And it feels like flying.

  In that moment, everything else disappears. It's just me and my board and the ocean. All I can feel is the water spraying on me like rain and my heart hammering in my chest like it's going to break through the cage of my ribs. Excitement consumes me. And joy.

  But like every thrilling orgasm, it comes to an end. The wave breaks. I fall.

  I hit the water with a splash. The ocean swallows me whole but I swim to the surface. After a gulp of air, I get back on my board and paddle away, out of the way of the other surfers who are raring to feel the euphoria I just felt, one that is now fading along with the thrill from the adrenaline that has ceased to rush through my veins.

  I already miss the feeling.

  Still, the memory of it puts a smile on my face as I make my way back to shore. I can already see the figures on that bank of sand jumping and down, cheering from afar. The sun beats down on my back, helping the wind steal the beads of water still clinging to my skin. I paddle slowly, not so much because I have no strength left but because I'm not chasing after anything now. When I reach the shallow area, I get off my board and start swimming, then walking with my board in arm.

  "Nice work, Montgomery!"

  "That was cool surfing, dude."

  "You were amazing."

  The praises from the scantily clad women break out as soon as I get out of the water. The rest of them whistle and applaud.

  "Thanks," I answer as I run my fingers through my wet hair. "Don't worry. Drinks are on me later. Before that, get off your asses and catch your own waves. Or at least try."

  The crowd disperses. I sit on the sand and take off the leash from my board.

  "You really are a showoff," my buddy, Shawn, tells me as he pats my back.

  "Hey, this time, I wasn't showing off," I tell him. "I was just riding that wave."

  And just looking at those waves makes me want to go again and again.

  "I know. But you still got the attention anyway. The girls', especially. That Dustin Montgomery charm never fails."

  "That's why I have a patent for it. Want to have some? I'll give it to you for free."

  "Nah." He waves off his hand. "I'm fine."

  "Right. You've got a girlfriend back home in Australia." I lean back on my arms. "Sure she's not screwing anyone else?"

  "Shut up." Shawn glances at me. "Carol isn't like you."

  "Hey." I nudge his arm. "I don't sleep with every woman I see."

  "No," he agrees. "You just pick the one you like the most from those crowded around you - the prettiest one, the one with the nicest laugh, the one with the best dance moves."

  "Does Carol dance?" I ask him.

  His eyes narrow. "I hate you."

  "No, you don't. You taught me to surf and you're proud of me."

  "I wish I hadn't."

  "Because now I'm better than you?"

  "Because now you're even more of an ass than ever."

  Shawn points to my scar, which is barely more than a pink dot on my skin right over where my appendix used to be. There are two more, but they're not visible - one's inside my belly button and the other is below the garter of my board shorts.

  "You just went under the knife, Dustin," he says.

  "Actually, I'm not sure it was a knife," I say.

  "You had surgery, anyway, and that usually changes people," Shawn goes on. "That usually makes people think that their bodies are not perfect, that their lives can end at any moment. That usually makes them better."

  "Are you saying I should stop sleeping around?" I ask him.

  I'm not used to him being so serious, and frankly, it's making me uncomfortable.

  "I'm saying you just had surgery," Shawn answers.

  I nod. I know I did. Well, I know I was in hellish pain before they gave me morphine. Frankly, I don't remember any of what came after. Then I was in a hospital bed and the procedure was over. Should I change my life because of that?

  I know what Shawn is trying to say, but I never, even for one moment, felt I was going to die. Even when I was in pain, I didn't feel like I was dying. Maybe that's why I'm still the same Dustin, just without an appendix.

  "You've had surgery before?" I ask Shawn.

  We may have been friends for almost a year now, but there's still some things I don't know about him.

  "Yeah. I was in a motorcycle accident when I was fifteen. Also, I had a scare with a jellyfish four years ago."

  "Wow. You're a legend, dude. You've cheated death twice."

  "I was given second chances," he says. "I've decided not to waste them."

  "Right." I nod and pat his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm not wasting mine. I'm still living life to the fullest."

  "Because you're chasing after every thrill?" He looks at me. "Dude, maybe that's living, but I'm not sure if it's living life to the fullest. Remember, when you're chasing something, you always leave something behind."

  I scratch the back of my head. "Wow. I didn't know you had a philosopher in you."

  "Shut up." He throws some sand on me before getting on his feet. "I'm going to go catch a wave."

  "About time."

  Shawn stretches his arms and legs, then grabs his board.

  "I'll be right behind you," I add.

  He stops. "Oh. I almost forgot. There's someone looking for you. A woman. She said she'd wait for you at the restaurant in that fancy hotel."

  He glances in the direction of the building.

  "Is she hot?" I ask him curiously.

  "She was wearing expensive looking sunglasses," Shawn answers. "And a scarf. And a ring on her finger, you know, shiny golden band with lots of diamonds on the fourth finger of the left hand."

  I frown. "Well, that's a disappointment."

  "Plus I think she's older than you. But she still has this nice figure and long dark brown hair. Not that that matters, because she's married."

  I nod. "I think I know who she is."

  I've met a lot of women with dark brown hair, but I know only one with a shiny, diamond-studded, golden band on her finger who likes to wear expensive things and go to fancy hotels.

  Candace Montgomery. My sister-in-law. The one I used to have the hots for before I found out she and my oldest brother, Sidney, were totally in love with each other. She also has a strong maternal instinct, and since she and Sidney have no kids, she's decided to direct that towards me. In short, she likes to check on me and butt into my life.

  "Did she say what she wanted?" I ask Shawn.

  "No." He shakes his head. "So go to her and find out. I'll be at the usual shack."
>
  He heads off into the water. I pick myself up and let out a sigh as I walk in the opposite direction.

  I wonder what Candace wants this time.

  ~

  "There he is." Candace gets up from her chair as soon as she sees me approaching.

  She no longer has her sunglasses on. Instead, they're hanging from between the second two buttons of her peach blouse, the first being undone. Her blue eyes gleam as she smiles. Her mahogany hair cascades past her shoulders.

  "Candace." I let her give me a hug before pulling out a chair to sit on. "You look gorgeous as ever."

  "Stop it." She waves a manicured hand as she sits down. "You know your tricks don't work on me."

  "Do I know it." I clasp my hands on the table.

  "How's the surf?" Candace asks.

  "Great."

  "Can I get you anything? Wine?" She lifts her glass. "Or wait, are you allowed to drink? You just had surgery ten days ago, right?"

  So she knows about the appendectomy I had. Why am I not surprised?

  "I'm allowed everything," I tell her. "But I'll have the steak instead."

  She grins. "Steak it is."

  I suddenly feel hungry after all that surfing.

  She calls the waiter and places our orders before turning back to me.

  "So, how are you?"

  I shrug. "As you can see, I'm doing good."

  "Hmm." She takes a sip of wine. "Why didn't you call to let us know about your appendectomy?"

  I let out a deep breath as I sit back. Here it comes.

  "We don't expect you to call about every woman you sleep with or about every trip you make, or your string of exciting activities," Candace goes on as she puts her glass down. "But Dustin, this was a surgery. You were in a hospital. You should have called."

  "So you could come to the hospital room and weep over the possibility that I might die?"

  Her eyes narrow. "Dustin..."

  "It was a minor surgery," I tell her. "One they do all the time. I needed it, I had it, and now I'm fine."

  "Oh, so you can promise me, then, that if you ever have to go through a heart bypass, have your stomach sliced, or have your skull split open, you'll give us a call?"

  I shake my head. "Not gonna happen. The surgeries, I mean."

  Candace sighs. "We're your family, Dustin."

  "I know that."

  "We worry for you."

  "You mean you worry for me because you have nothing better to do than play big sister or mother or whatever role it is you think God sent you to play here."

  The way she purses her lips and the sad look in her eyes lets me know I've gone too far.

  I sigh. "Sorry."

  She didn't deserve that. I know she means well. She always does. And she's always been there to help me out of whatever bind I get myself into, sometimes without telling Sidney.

  She nods. "Sidney and I worry about you. So does Mom."

  By Mom, she means my mother, who's been mostly in bed after her stroke.

  I tap my fingers on the table. "Because I don't have a job and I'm squandering my fortune? Or because I sleep with a bunch of girls I barely know?"

  "Because we're your family," Candace answers.

  I say nothing.

  "And maybe because ever since you struck gold with one amazing invention, you haven't been doing much with your life except risking it. And sleeping around, of course," she adds.

  Ah. There's the truth.

  "Dustin, you're wasting your life."

  "Funny. My friend said the same thing earlier."

  "The one I spoke to? I should have invited him to dinner, too."

  "It's not too late," I tell her. "I can leave and call him. You can have dinner with him instead."

  "Dustin."

  "I'm not wasting my life, Candace. I'm living it the way I want to."

  "Irresponsibly. Recklessly."

  "I'm perfectly fine, Candace. I've got everything under control."

  "Your appendix blew," she points out.

  "And I got it under control," I argue. "Besides, if I clean up my act, who are you going to watch over and worry about?"

  She pouts as she crosses her arms over her chest. Her fingers tap her elbow.

  "So you have everything under control, do you?"

  My hand rises from my lap. "Yes."

  "And your life is going according to plan?" she asks.

  "That's the thing. I don't have a plan."

  "Right." She nods. "So your getting married was just - what? A spur of the moment thing? An experiment? Just another thrill you were chasing after?"

  My eyes grow wide. My back straightens.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that. Did you say I got married?"

  To my surprise, she chuckles and then breaks into full-blown laughter. And she keeps going, so much so that some heads turn.

  I lean across the table. "Candace, you're not going crazy, are you?"

  She meets my gaze. "You're the one who's crazy, Dustin. You're married and you don't even know it. What? Were you too drunk?"

  My eyebrows furrow. I'm married?

  "Wow." Candace grins as she shakes her head. "I know you've done a lot of stupid, irresponsible things. But getting married without knowing it?"

  I sit back. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Clearly."

  "I'm not married."

  She grabs her purse from the chair next to her and takes her phone out. After a few seconds, she hands it to me and I see the document on her screen.

  A marriage certificate issued by Durham County with my name on it. And another.

  Marian Elizabeth Carver.

  Who the hell is that?

  I hand Candace her phone back and shake my head. "It's a mistake."

  "That's what I thought." She drops her phone back inside her purse. "After all, you're not the marrying kind. Only adults marry, and you're not an adult."

  I let that insult go because I have bigger things to worry about.

  "Who else knows?"

  "Apart from the one who married you and the employees at the County Clerk's office, just me," Candace answers.

  "So Sidney doesn't know."

  "Not yet, but I can't keep this a secret from him for long, which means if you're going to get a divorce, you have to do it quietly and quickly."

  She grabs a folder from beneath her purse and hands it to me. I open it and find divorce papers inside.

  I grin. "Candace, you're a lifesaver."

  "I know," she says. "Saving your ass gives my life meaning."

  I frown at the sarcastic remark.

  "Anyway, are you sure you can handle this?" she asks.

  I close the folder. "I've climbed mountains. I've surfed fifteen-foot waves. I've gone swimming with sharks. I've survived an appendectomy. I can do this."

  "Really? Because setting a mistake right is kind of responsible, and I know you don't do responsible."

  "Are you done insulting me?"

  She says nothing.

  Finally, the waiter arrives. He sets my steak platter in front of me and Candace's fragrant chicken pilaf in front of her.

  "About time," I say.

  "Thank you," Candace tells the waiter.

  After he leaves, she picks up her spoon. Without a word or a glance at me, she starts to eat. And her silence bothers me even more.

  I put my knife down. "I can do this, Candace," I assure her.

  "If you say so." She lifts the spoon to her lips.

  "I say so."

  I pick up my knife again and slice into my steak. As I do, I start planning my next move.

  All I have to do is get a divorce, right? That should be easy, given the fact that we don't have kids or any mutual property. Heck, we don't even know each other. At least, I don't know her. Does she know me? I doubt it. And I doubt she knows we're married. If she did, she'd have already come looking for me, right? Women care about that sort of thing.

  At any rate, I have to find Maria
n Carver, I think as I pop the piece of juicy steak inside my mouth. I have to find my wife.

  Hopefully, she has a Facebook page.

  Chapter Three

  Marian

  "Work, sweet work," I mutter to myself as I stand in the park across from the hospital.

  From here, I don't see any of the chaos that goes on inside. I can't hear my name being called over the PA or any of the yelling and wailing. The hospital looks like an ordinary building, peaceful, beautiful even with its azure and gold octagonal glass pieces gleaming under the early rays of the sun.

  But I know better. I know that when I step through those sliding doors there will be people for me to help, cases for me to solve, lives for me to improve and save. The battlefield awaits.

  I draw a deep breath before taking the first step forward.

  Why did I become a doctor? I must have been mad. I never was the smartest kid in class, so no one ever encouraged me to be a doctor or even said I could be one. I've never had much confidence. I was even shy growing up. And I never dreamed of being some kind of hero. I guess I just wanted to make something of myself. Plus, I wasn't scared of blood. The neighbor who used to babysit me liked watching horror movies, and I had no choice but to watch them with her, so I guess I got used to all the blood and guts. I figured I might as well use it for some good.

  Then of course, there was my mother's old fiance, Hal Stevens, who I spot on a bench a few feet away, wearing his green Celtics cap and drinking his cup of coffee. He's a renowned cardiothoracic surgeon, and I guess he was a bit of an inspiration.

  When he sees me, he smiles.

  "Coffee?" He picks up the other cup beside him.

  I scratch the back of my head. "What are you doing here, Hal? Again?"

  "Checking on you, of course," Hal answers as he holds both cups on his lap. "Again."

  I sigh. "I thought I'd told you that you don't have to take care of me anymore."

  "I'm a doctor," he points out. "I can't help but take care of people."

  "I'm not your patient."

  "No," he agrees. "You're someone more important. You're family."

  I'd protest like I used to, but I know it's no use. It may not be true, but it's what Hal thinks, and he's one of the most persistent men I know. He's also intelligent and difficult to argue with. So I stay quiet.