Fighting Absolution

by Kate McCarthy

  Moving to my chair, I turn it outwards, facing the ocean, and take a seat.

  I know what I’m doing.

  Fuck. I rub a hand across my eyes, squeezing between the bridge of my nose.

  Do you really? Because I’m not a saint. Don’t expect me to do the right thing.

  I’m a fucking bastard.

  Jamie was drunk. She didn’t know what she was doing. Deep down I knew that, and yet I put my grubby hands all over her anyway.

  Dirty fucking bastard.

  I want you to be rough.

  Of course she did. Being gentle would mean something. Rough sex is simply scratching an itch, isn’t it? Jamie was scratching an itch, and I was handy. How can I blame her for that when I took advantage, ruining everything like a bull in a china shop?

  I lower the mug in my hands, my eyes on the ocean, on the two kangaroos that bound across the pristine sand. It’s a sight that would have Jamie reaching for the camera. But she’s not here to take the photo because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.

  What I thought might have been a new beginning for us has quite possibly turned out to be the end. I knew it the moment she flinched beneath my touch this morning, properly sober and in her right mind.

  My heart hammers hard with regret.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, but the curse isn’t enough. “Fuck!” I roar, throwing my mug against the tree to my right. It shatters on impact, sending coffee and porcelain shards flying.

  “Mate, everything okay?”

  I turn, chest heaving with rage. It’s our neighbouring camper. A man about fifty or so. We drove past their camp to get to ours, and I nodded an acknowledgement at the time. He waved and smiled, a small group of people behind him seated around a fold-out table as they played a board game.

  “Yeah,” I rasp, swiping a hand down my face like it’s just that easy to wipe the insidious emotion away. It’s not, but I manage to push it aside and offer an apology. “Sorry.”

  “Must have been a real shit brew,” he says, nodding towards the broken remnants of my cup.

  A huff of laughter escapes me. “Nothing worse than bad coffee.”

  “True that.” He holds out his hand. “The name’s Reg.”

  I shake it before letting go. “Kyle.”

  “Beautiful spot we got here, ay?” he asks, though it’s more a statement of fact than a question. We both look out across the beach, Reg with his hands on his hips. It’s a quiet, beautiful haven.

  “What can I do for you?” I ask when the silence drags on.

  “Thought we might invite you and the missus for a board game at ours tonight.” He winks conspiratorially. “Winner gets a bottle of our homemade whiskey.”

  “Oh, right.” I shake my head. “She’s not … We …” Fuck.

  He claps me on the shoulder. “See you about five?”

  I nod. “Sure. Five.” Maybe it might be good for us to bring other people inside our orbit. We’ve lived in such a bubble these past weeks.

  “Bring beer,” Reg calls out over his shoulder as he walks off. “We’ll cook.”

  Jamie doesn’t return until late. I pick up my phone to call her at least a thousand times, but instead I find myself flicking through our photos instead. Starting from the beginning of our road trip.

  The first one is Jamie. She’s in the passenger seat. It’s pushed back and her legs are crossed at the ankle, resting out on the open window. Mirrored aviators cover her eyes and her hair is a messy bun on top of her head. She’s grinning while she holds a cigar between her lips, smoke puffing out in a cloud.

  “What are these?” she squealed, finding them inside the glove compartment.

  I shrugged as she opened the packet. Two were missing. “I bought them for Ryan when Fin had the baby.”

  She pulled one out, running it underneath her nose, breathing deep.

  “You ever smoke one?” I asked.

  “Oh sure,” she said in a breezy tone.

  I jerked my chin towards the centre console, where a bright green lighter sat. “Go ahead,” I said. A challenge. “These are the good ones. Cost me my left nut.”

  “Oh, it’s okay. I don’t want to waste them.”

  I grabbed the lighter and flicked it. A flame appeared. Then I said the one thing guaranteed to get her back up. “Are you sure you’ve had one? Because I wouldn’t judge you if you can’t handle them. They’re pretty strong.”

  Jamie stuck the cigar between her lips, holding it towards the flame. The end burned red. It was all I could do not to bust out laughing when she inhaled. A deep, hacking cough burst from her lungs.

  “You’re such a fucker,” she said, waving a hand through the smoke as she choked, tears streaming from her eyes.

  I laughed. “I need a photo to document this moment.”

  “I’ll do it. You’re driving.” Jamie took my phone and held it out, chomping down on the cigar between her two fingers, a smirking grin on her face as she clicked the picture.

  I swipe through a few scenic ones until I get to the one of Jamie as she went over the edge of the jetty in Broome. It’s blurred because I was taking a photo of the water and turned when I heard her shout. I managed to capture the image mid-fall. The one after that is Jamie fully-clothed as she treads water, glaring up at me.

  “Are you going to help me out or are you going to just stand there like a big stupid lump and take photos?” she growled.

  “Take photos,” I said, trying not to piss myself from laughing so hard.

  “Kyle!” She spun around in the water, frantic. “What was that? Something just brushed against me. Oh my god. Sharks! Kyle, you bastard.” She freestyled towards me and it only made me laugh harder. The water was crystal clear. There was nothing but a few little fish flittering about.

  “You watched Jaws as a child, didn’t you?”

  “Stop trying to psychoanalyse me and help me out of the damn water.”

  I slid into my bed that night and got spiked and scratched. Jamie had filled my bed with a thousand gum tree seeds.

  It makes me chuckle even now as I swipe through more of my camera roll, memories hitting me like bricks, one after the other.

  I stop on another one. We’re at one of the wineries, and Jamie was eyeing off a giant wheel of cheese. I never knew she was a fanatic until this trip. I’ve even caught her eating it for breakfast.

  “I’m buying it,” she said.

  “How much would you like, love?” the lady behind the windowed display asked her.

  “All of it. The whole wheel, please.”

  My brows almost flew off my face. It weighed at least ten pounds, which meant it would cost her around a hundred and sixty bucks. “You can’t buy the whole thing.”

  An odd expression crossed her face. “There’s no such thing as can’t.”

  “You’ll never eat it all,” I warned her when we returned to camp.

  “Watch me.” She poured a wine, cut that damn wheel in half, held it up to her face as if it were a hunk of watermelon, and took a huge bite.

  “You’re an animal.”

  She stuck out of her tongue, her cheeks bulging with cheese. “Takes one to know one.”

  I got my phone out and took a photo, showing her the image while she chewed. “Oh my god. I am an animal.” She swallowed her mouthful. “But guess what?”

  “What?”

  She tore off another hunk with her teeth and grinned. “I don’t care.”

  I set my phone aside and grab the snorkel gear, knowing I need to do something. Anything is better than sitting here torturing myself with all the ways I fucked up.

  Shrugging the mesh bag over my shoulder, I go for a long walk until I find a great spot, spending hours in the water. It’s not until I get out that I remember the sunscreen. My back and shoulders feel tender and hot. I shrug my shirt on for the long walk back to camp.

  Jamie’s there when I return.

  “Hey,” I say and wince because it sounds lame.

  “Hey,” she says b
ack.

  I set the snorkel gear down. “Did you get the—”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you take—”

  “Yes. All done.”

  Then why don’t I feel relieved? Jamie doesn’t want me. Not the same way I want her. And it’s not the right environment to bring a child into. Call me old-fashioned, but I want the girl I love beside me where I can take care of her, not pregnant and on the other side of the country, so I should be grateful. Jamie’s a practical girl. And she’s done the practical thing, which is more than I can say for myself. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  How fucking polite of us.

  “Reg invited us to board game night,” I tell her, waving a hand towards the cluster of tents a little way down from us.

  “Reg, huh?”

  “I said we’d go. Is that okay?”

  Jamie nods, the gesture a little stilted. “That sounds good. What time?”

  “Five.”

  “Okay. I’ll go shower.”

  She walks away, grabbing her things before heading towards the shower block. I heave a deep sigh. Yep. That was uncomfortable. She returns a half hour later, towel over her shoulder, toiletry bag in one hand, the other running a comb through her long hair. It snags on a knot and she yelps.

  “Let me,” I say quietly.

  “I’ve got it.”

  Frustration rises and she must sense it because she drops her arms, turning her head so I can reach the knotted mass. “Okay. Thank you.”

  I work at untangling the wet strands. “Jamie?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I’m sorry about last night,” I tell her, trying to put things right. “I shouldn’t have put my hands on you the way I did. It was … a mistake.” Though it didn’t feel like one. It felt like the best goddamn thing ever. “We should try and move past it. You’re the most important person in my life.” I take a deep breath, working the comb free. “And I can’t lose you.”

  Jamie turns and I put it in her hand. “Please don’t apologise. I’m the one who’s sorry. This is on me.”

  “It’s on both of us.”

  Her eyes drop to my mouth for a long moment before she looks away. “Do you think we can go back to how we were before?”

  No. But it’s Jamie. For her I’d do anything. “We can try.”

  Reg introduces us to his wife, Beverley. “Just call me Bev,” she says, sucking on a cigarette as she pours drinks, waving us into their camp. We walk over, Jamie carrying a bowl of salad and me resting a case of beer on my shoulder.

  “These are our two boys, Graham and Wil.”

  Jamie jerks next to me. I shake their hands while Graham sends Jamie a familiar smile. “We know each other.”

  “You do?” I ask as she shakes Wil’s hand.

  “We met today.”

  “Today?” I echo.

  “She rented a kayak,” Graham explains.

  “Oh!” Bev trills, walking over with a glass of wine for Jamie while I set the beer down by the table they have set up. “Both our boys live here, which is why we’re visiting. We try and get here at least once a year to see them.”

  I turn to Jamie. “You rented a kayak?”

  She shrugs. “You went snorkelling.”

  Another two couples join us. Camping neighbours on the other side of Reg and Bev. One is a couple in their early thirties, the other a little older, maybe mid-forties.

  Alcohol flows and old seventies tunes play in the background as we team up on a game of Monopoly, me and Jamie buying up Boardwalk and Park Place in quick succession. She sips slowly on her wine as we take each turn, limiting herself to one glass. I take her aside when there’s a lull. “Is it okay to drink with the pill?”

  She nods. “It’s fine.”

  But she doesn’t look so good. “You don’t look so good.”

  She rubs her belly. “I don’t feel so good.”

  I set my beer down. “Let me take you back to camp.”

  “No, you stay here. I can walk back on my own.”

  My nostrils flare. “For fuck’s sake.”

  “Fine,” she hisses and looks around, seeing Bev watching us. She forces a smile. “But you can come back after, if you want.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re not feeling well.”

  “Fine,” she says again, and we say our goodbyes to the group, thanking them for the invite and promising to stop by another night before we leave.

  Jamie disappears inside the tent while I get her a water. She steps out a few minutes later in her sleep shorts and tank top. I try really hard to forget what she looks like out of them, but it doesn’t work. I focus somewhere over her shoulder when I crack the lid on the bottle and hand it over.

  She thanks me and pops a pill in her mouth, taking a swallow.

  “How many of those do you have to take?”

  “Just two.”

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, I’m good. I’m gonna go to sleep,” she says, jerking her thumb towards the tent behind her.

  “Okay. I’ll be in in a minute,” I reply and wince—because that makes it sound like I’m expecting something more.

  I clean up around camp, wiping down cups, putting stuff back inside containers, switching off Jamie’s string lights. It’s dark when I step inside the tent. I make out her form in the airbed. She’s on the left side, on her belly, facing the canvas wall. Her old bed is rolled up in the corner. I never got around to fixing it. Maybe I should do that tomorrow.

  Shrugging off my shirt, I slide in beside her, careful not to jar the mattress too much. I roll to my back with an audible hiss.

  “What?” Jamie half-turns. My eyes adjust to the dark, and I make out the little furrow in her brow. “What is it?”

  “Sunburn,” I reply, my skin throbbing like a little bitch.

  “You should have used sunscreen.”

  “No shit? Why didn’t I think to do that? Oh yeah, because I forgot.”

  “God, you’re such a baby when you’re injured.”

  “I am not.”

  “You are.” Jamie rises from the bed and rustles around inside her bag. “Remember your elbow?” She comes back with a tube of something. “You bitched so much back home they banned you from card night.”

  “That’s because they’re a whiney bunch of losers that can’t handle losing,” I point out.

  “Roll over.”

  I eye the blue bottle with wary eyes. “What’s that?”

  “It’s an aloe vera lotion that contains lidocaine.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously,” she says as I roll over, giving her my back.

  Jamie squeezes the tube, and icy splodges drip their way across my heated skin. I hold back the urge to squeal like a little girl. She’s right. I can be a real baby, not that I’d ever cop to it.

  “You’re the best,” I say as she rubs it on. It’s instant relief. Jamie always has the best stuff. A veritable wizard of the healing world, her first aid kit full of wondrous, magical things.

  I hear the lid of the tube snick closed, and she folds herself back in bed. “There. All done.” Jamie gives my back a light pat before her palm moves down my spine in what feels like a long, sensual caress. She snatches her hand free. “Now be quiet. I’m trying to sleep.”

  We settle back to our respective sides and when her breathing starts to even out, I allow myself to drift off. A heavy thump jolts me awake in the early hours. I grab my torch, half-rising as I flick it on. It outlines a kangaroo sniffing out our campsite.

  “What is it?” Jamie mutters, lifting her head, her arm sliding from beneath her pillow, knife in hand.

  “Put that damn thing away.” I shake my head. “It’s just a roo.”

  It slides back beneath the pillow, and she turns to her side, facing me.

  I flick the torch off and settle back in.

  “Kyle?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How’s your back?” />
  “Sore.”

  “Want me to rub some more aloe in?”

  “Yes please.” As if I’d say no.

  I roll to my belly, and she climbs over me this time, straddling my backside. My skin is an inferno, and I hiss when the cool gel hits. She massages it in with slow, gentle strokes this time. My cock hardens beneath me with each swipe of her hands. A groan of pleasure escapes.

  “Does that feel good?” she whispers in the dark.

  “Yes. So good.”

  “Roll over.”

  I hesitate. “Jamie?”

  “I can’t get your shoulders properly from here.”

  She shifts up on her knees, and I roll over. She sits back down, straddling me, rubbing herself against my erection as if she can’t help it. My groin tightens. “Can you reach them now?” I croak.

  Jamie grabs the bottle and squeezes a blob into her palm. She rubs them together and looms over me, her hands working the lotion into the skin of my shoulders. They slide down slowly, her nails scraping the wall of my chest. Delicious shivers erupt. “That feels so damn good.”

  Her fingers drift lower and lower, and my cock jerks inside my underwear. I know she feels it because she lets out a shaky breath. “What are we doing?”

  My voice is hoarse. “I don’t know, but I want to keep doing it.”

  “Me too,” she says quietly, and her fingers find the edge of my shorts.

  Jamie flicks open the button and slides my zipper down. She shifts down my legs, tugging my shorts and underwear with her. My hard dick surges upward, throbbing and heavy.

  “You want this?” I ask, needing her to be sure.

  “Yes,” she breathes. “I want one more night. Then we can go back to the way everything was before,” she says in a desperate tone, as if she’s trying to convince herself of the impossible all over again. It didn’t work today. It won’t work tomorrow. But I can’t say no. I’m not strong enough, and I want her too fucking much.

  Her head dips down and her tongue snakes out, licking the entire length of my cock. I feel her hot, wet mouth wrap around it, sucking me inside, and my head tips back with a groan. My fingers go to her hair, gripping the strands as she slides down and sucks upward. Just like that, I’m ready to come.