Authors: Mika Jolie
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Women's Fiction, #Romance, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial
“It’s a deal.” Claire
slid into the vacant seat. The other women follo
wed.
“How’s Adam doing?”
“A total pita,” Lily
answered.
“Adam is a soft
flatbread,” Claire teased her friend, knowing how much Lily loved Adam.
“Pain.
In. The.
Ass.”
For added flair, Lily let out a heavy
sigh. “He hovers and now…”
“Don’t tell us. No se
x,” the three women said together.
Lily wrinkled her nose
and laughter broke around the table. Claire welcomed the silliness.
“He’s hinting we might
come to a halt. Something about the baby’s head and his you know what.” Lily
grimaced.
“That’s scientific
ally impossible,” Keely said between giggles.
“Try telling him
that.” Lily brushed her bangs away from her eyes. “He’s lucky I’m in love with
him.”
“And your parents love
him,” Minka added.
Lily rolled her eyes
and picked up the menu.
“Oh, yeah,
that too.
”
“Your brothers still
haven’t come around?” Keely asked while scanning the menu.
“I think deep down
they
like him, but they get a kick out of
giving him a hard time.”
The other three women
nodded in agreement. Claire was acquainted with Max, one of Lily’s
three brothers. From the few times their paths had crossed
and discussed his sister’s marriage to one of her closest friends, she knew
Adam had gained their trust. That of course didn’t mean he was free of Lily’s
brothers putting him through the ringer.
“Good to see
you ladies again.” Maxie, Vapor
’
s
favorite waitress, greeted them with a warm smile. “What can I get for you?”
“Hi Maxie, aren’t you supposed to be in
college?” Claire had practically watched Maxie grow up on the island. From what
she remembered she was attending Boston College.
“I came to help out
for the weekend.” She cleared her throat.
“And to attend the funer
al.”
Just as Maxie said
that, a man in plaid shirt held his beer and shouted.
“To Luc.”
Everyone rose their
glasses and repeated the chant in Luc’s honor.
Forrest’s father had been such an integral part in the
community, in her life. On the farm, Luc had a
lways
been patient with her, showing her the ropes. Raw grief swept through Claire’s
system. She loved Forrest’s father and now he was gone. Just like that. Death
often came unannounced.
“Jason appreciates you
doing this, Maxie,” Minka said in a solemn voi
ce.
“So does Adam.” Lily
added with a subdued sorrow in her voice.
“I love those guys.” Maxie smiled sadly
at them. “I’m not missing a day of class. I’ll leave first thing Monday. What
should I get for you? The French onion soup is tasty.”
“Well,” Claire
said, handing the menu back to Maxie, “French onion soup it
is, and that great warm butternut squash salad Vapor is known for.”
Once Maxie left, Lily
took a sip of her decaffeinated tea and twisted her face in disgust. “This no
caffeine thing is going to b
e the end of me.” She
turned and hit Claire with that Lily stare that sees right through you. “Word
on the street you and Forrest were kissing…again,” she added, a reminder Lily
had witnessed the kiss Claire shared with Forrest
the night of the wedding
.
Ke
ely placed her menu down and gave the conversation her full
attention. Minka shot Lily
an
I’m-going-to-kill-you look, solidifying
her role as the CEO of the rumor mill. Actually her good-looking husband Jason
must have started the gossip. Not that it matte
red.
Self-deprivation was the only reason she never confided in Lily and Minka about
Forrest. She’d convinced herself their fleeting romance was locked in the past
vault, to be glanced upon only as a point of reference. Except she returned to
face her demo
n and he’d shut her down.
She waved a dismissive
hand.
Nothing to dwell on.
Only lately, actually always, her heart
told her differently. No matter how many times she chided her heart that
feelings were impermanent, nothing lasted forever, everything was temporary,
even emotions; it never faltered.
“When I was seventeen
and Forre
st was twenty, we got drunk together,” she
said softly. “I kissed him. I wanted more, but he was sober enough to stop me.
He promised if I still wanted him when I turned eighteen, we could...
.
” Her voice trailed. This stroll down Memory Lane and
recalling
some of the happiest time of her life
sucked big time.
“The heart knows what
the heart wants,” Keely said thoughtfully.
“A year later,” Claire
continued. “On my eighteenth birthday, we made love.” She smiled, the night
still so vivid in her mind. “We were
both virgins.”
“No way,” Lily
exclaimed. “Totally swoon worthy.”
“So romantic,” Minka
added.
“He was on his way to
medical school and here I was an eighteen-year-old virgin confessing my love.”
“But the two of you
made love,” Minka whispered, “he had to fe
el
something. Forrest is not the love them and leave them type. At least based on
what I’ve seen so far.”
Claire knew that. He’d
never been the casual type. “Once upon a time he used to be in love with me.”
“He’s still in love
with you,” Keely said.
A smil
e touched Claire’s lips. She knew better. The physical
desire might still be there, but the emotional connection they once shared no
longer existed. “That summer, we were together. Only Jason was aware of our
relationship.”
“Where were Adam and
Blake?” Lil
y asked.
“Adam was in Italy
with his parents and Blake didn’t come back that summer. He started law
school.”
Lily and Minka nodded.
They’d been undergrads at Harvard while Blake was in law school.
“A summer fling. Did
Forrest break it off?” Minka asked wit
h a slight
frown.
“No,” Claire answered
without a beat. “The day after we got tattoos in Boston, I left without saying
goodbye. I went to New York first then L.A. He thought we were forever, but I
left. I broke the deal.”
“Oh,” Minka and Lily
whispered at
the same time.
“There’s more to the
story,” Keely added gently. She glanced at Claire, seeming to ask for
permission. When her friend didn’t stop her, she continued. “The night of her
eighteenth birthday, Claire overheard a conversation between Jason’s mot
her, Victoria, and her mother.” She stopped and looked at
Claire again. “It’s your story, you should tell it.”
And so she did. It
took her less than five minutes to summarize the conversation that changed her
life forever. In the end, she chuckled, a sad s
ound
from the back of her throat. “Yeah, I fucked up.” She lowered her gaze to her
drink. “I hurt him, I know.” Her voice choked with emotion. God, she wanted a
good cry.
“Does Jason know this
about his mother?”
Minka
asked
,
a look of concern clouded her eyes.
Claire shook her head.
She never held Victoria’s words against Jason or Charles. Actually, with time
she even learned to forgive his mother. “Jason’s gone through enough dealing
with Victoria’s mental health and everyt
hing.”
The
everything
eventually led to self-destruction.
Minka chewed her lower
lip in a way Claire knew to be an indication she was troubled by what she’d
learned.
Claire shook her head
again, this time more vehemently. “No need to tell him.”
Minka sighe
d and looked down at her hands. “He still struggles with
her death.”
“And I don’t want to
mar whatever good he has left of her,” Claire said gently. “He’s that big
brother I never had.”
Minka nodded. “One
day, you should tell him. But I’ll leave it at that
for now.”
Maxie returned with
their soups on a large tray. She placed the bowls on the table along with their
drinks and disappeared.
“But you still want
him. I saw that kiss the night of Minka’s wedding.” Lily studied her. “Is that
why you’re back?”
They
all knew she was supposed to be on a promotional tour. “I
don’t know why I came back. I guess to either say goodbye or figure out where
we go from here.” Not entirely true, her heart whispered. She took a break from
her career and headed straight to his h
ouse. She had
some kind of expectations.
Hopes.
“Crappy timing
though,” Keely suggested. “I mean, his father passed away yesterday. He’s
vulnerable.”
The words from her
friend almost sounded protective of Forrest, but Claire knew better. After
years of fr
iendship she knew Keely well enough to
admit the woman had never been anything less than fair. She had a valid point,
the timing couldn’t be more inconvenient. “I didn’t know about Luc.”
“Your heart knew,”
Lily the forever romantic, said gently. “You came
back
because you felt he needed you. Emotions are diet of the heart.”
Claire smiled.
Lily and her grand idea of love.
It might have worked for her and Adam,
but…Claire shook her head. “I came back for my own selfish reasons.” She
sighed. “Reasons that aren’t even clear to me anymore.”
Minka squeezed her
hand. “You’ll figure it out.”
“He kissed you,” Lily
pointed out. “He
has to still feel something.”
“A
momentary slip.
Lust.”
Lily nodded with a
knowing look. For a while her relationship with Adam had been purely physical.
“I’ve been there, but look at me and Adam now.”
“You’ve never hurt
Adam. If anything you saved him.”
“Are you still staying
at his place?” Keely asked after a short silence.
“No, I’m going back to
Chappy today.” Claire picked up her spoon and gave the squash soup a stir.
“Last night wasn’t the most welcome reception, which is understandable now I
know wh
at he was going through. I’ll stay for the
funeral.”
“Well, we’re glad
you’re here,” Keely said warmly. “No matter for how long.”
She shared a
connection with these women that transcended time and distance. Her career
brought many people into her life
,
som
e genuine
and some out for their best interest. But her friendship with Lily, Minka, and
Keely kept her grounded. They understood she was a frayed knot. Jason, Blake
and Adam still resided in that place labeled for family in her life, but
lately, she found
herself gravitating more toward the
women in their lives. “I’m glad to be back too.”
No matter for how
long.
Chapter Eight
“Love-On
c
e
rooted in the heart, it never dies.”
Marjorie Desvareaux
To enter the cemetery
Claire had to skirt around a pile of
brown,
frosted leaves. Small white ice crystals covering the
ground crunched with every footstep, echoing every person’s pain. Today, the
island had come to a halt to mourn one of their own. Even t
hose who escaped the grim winter had return to bid farewell
before being permanently separated with their friend by six feet of earth.
Grief
covered
the entire congregation
like a black shroud.
Claire blew out a breath and slipped one hand in the crook
of
her mother’s arm, a desperate attempt to stabilize
the wobbly nerves roiling in the pit of her stomach. Instead a fresh chill ran
along her spine. Shadows of ghosts lurked in the open space, watching,
whispering. She shivered. Cemeteries were places to kee
p the dead, held them prisoners, entombed in cement and dirt. The last
time she stepped foot on this barren and shallow place was six years ago to bid
farewell to Jason’s mother. It felt like yesterday.
“You okay?” Her mother
asked as they headed toward th
e site where Luc was to
be buried.
Under the wintry air,
her breath rose in visible puffs. She glanced at her mother. Long braids
sprinkled with gray streaks pulled back into a bun away from her barely
wrinkled face. As always, her mother’s skin had a glow
,
despite the heartbreak from her first love, left alone pregnant at twenty-four,
the financial hardship she faced growing up dirt-poor,
she’d
always maintained a positive outlook on
life. And for that, Claire always found herself in awe of her mother.
“I’
m fine.” She looked up to the sky. Overhead, dark clouds
blotted out the sun, hanging over the stones of the dead like a heavy,
suffocating sheath. Yet, the air smelled clean and crisp, nothing at all like
rain.
Snow.
A storm was brewing. The gods were eit
her happy to welcome Luc home or upset over their tragic
error.
She scanned the
graveyard, hundreds of tombstones around her, each one bearing the name of
someone who once lived on the island. Now, as the myth said, their souls roamed
these lands, right wh
ere she stood. “I feel like I’m
being watched by thousands of restless souls.”
“We think graveyards
are spooky because we fear death,” her mother said in a reflective voice. “Why
not think of it as a resting place?” She glanced at Claire and smiled.
“A pea
ceful
place to recall good memories.”
“Everything here
screams final.”
“You think so?”
“I do.” Her gaze
stayed on the six men carrying the mahogany coffin–Forrest
,
his
lifelong friends
,
his godfather, Charles
,
and Adam’s father, Christiano–all
dressed in
black. Six strong men, yet, from time to
time they had to stop and garner their strengths.
Claire’s gaze followed
the multitude of mourners turned out to bid adieu to Luc. All around were
tear-stained faces, shoulders slumped under the weight of death’s
ha
nd.
Some chatted in a hushed tone, nodding
with a smile over words spoken amongst them.
Once the coffin was
placed by the dug-up soil, Charles and Forrest trudged over to Marjorie.
Claire’s heart clenched at the sight of Forrest’s mother. Her eyes swollen
with saturated grief, acknowledging the finality of death,
never to look upon her husband’s face again, feel his embrace, or surrounded by
his love. Charles said something to Forrest then wrapped Marjorie in the
comfort of his arm. Pain etched the older ma
n’s face.
He’d been down this road
before
,
this was his second time burying a loved one.
His wife and now his best friend.
Claire peeked at
Forrest–shoulders
squared,
face still and serious as he stared
straight ahead into nothingness. The only thing that
gave
a hint of his agony was the few days old scruff he neglected to shave. Still,
he looked perfectly put together. He always had a way of maintaining full
control of any situation. She’d known him all of her life and could count on
one hand the few times
he’d lost control, most of
them with her.
Along with her mother,
Claire huddled by the tombstone next to Adam, Jason, Blake, and their wives.
Greetings and hugs were already exchanged at the church, now as they stood by
the cold earth where Luc was to be
laid, silence
prevailed.
“Would anyone like to
say something before the final farewell?” the pastor asked.
Without a word,
Charles released Marjorie to Forrest and walked up to the coffin. His fingers
lingered on the casket. After a short pause, he looked
up at the noiseless crowd. “Over thirty years ago while touring France
with my beautiful fiancée, I met a big, goofy, French-American man who would
become my best friend, my brother. I loved him.” He chuckled, a painful sound
really and rubbed his temple.
“Correction, I love
him. Luc will always be the brother I never had. Today I say to you,
a
bientôt
.”
Charles paused and looked up into the heavens. “I’ll see you soon.” He touched
the coffin one last time then walked over where Forrest and Marjorie stood.
“Forrest?” the pastor
called.
Claire watched Forrest
as he took steps on the hallowed ground and walked over to the coffin. He
abruptly turned his face in her direction. Gray eyes locked onto hers and for a
moment the whole world ceased to move. She wanted
to
touch him, caress his face, look into his eyes and tell him time had a way of
healing all wounds. Eventually, even this great pain would become bearable, but
she knew that was not entirely true. All she had to do was look deep into her
heart, time fail
ed to dim her memory. Lost under his
spell, she smiled a little, to reassure him she was here, would always be here
for him, no matter the distance.
With a slight nod her
direction, as if he heard her unspoken words, Forrest squared his shoulders and
addre
ssed the crowd. “My father taught me everything
I know. Everything I am is because of my parents. I love them.” He exhaled,
gulped down his sorrow as his fingers skimmed along the coffin, his attention
solely for the man who shaped him. “For the rest of my
life, I will search for moments of you.” His breath came in a gasp and his lips
tightened,
then
he spoke again. “Goodbye, Dad.”
Claire continued to
stare up at Forrest. His chin trembled as he lowered his lips to the casket and
bid his father a safe journ
ey. Her chest constricted.
Sadness welled in her throat, ready to overcome its wall.
“Today,” the pastor
said, “we bid farewell to our dear friend Lu
c.
F
ather
, husband, and friend.”
That’s when the empty
heartache seeped in. Forrest’s mother screamed her
husband’s
name as the coffin slowly lowered in the ground
,
mouth of Mother Earth swallowing her child. Through blurred
vision, she watched Forrest. He clenched his jaw, struggling to hold back his
grief, but hot torrents of grief coursed down his immobile
face.
Her stomach twisted at
the sight.
A piece of Forrest’s
life was gone forever.
Sick in the gut and
unable to continue looking at him, so hurt and broken, a feeling of
helplessness washed over her. Knowing she couldn’t take away his pain, she gave
him
the only thing within her grasp. She stepped away
from her mother, walked up to Forrest and squeezed his hand tightly in hers.
* * * *
About one hour later,
Forrest stood in the large but cozy sitting room in Martha’s Way. He scanned
the many faces in
the crowd, voices talking over one
another. Some carried a note of sorrow, while others filled with joy as they
shared fond memories of his father.
His heart rankled and
filled with emptiness. Needing an escape, he strode over to the large fireplace
and ga
zed out of the window. Snowflakes floated from
the heavens, covering bare branches and sticking to the remaining oak and beech
leaves still clinging to the trees.
“Four months ago, I
stood at this exact spot and couldn’t tell Liliana I loved her.”
Forrest
pulled his gaze away from the window and glanced at Adam.
“You were a fool.”
“But I was in love
with her, you know. I was too arrogant and overwhelmed with fear.”
Claire walked by. She
stopped to talk to Adam’s parents, then Charles before walking over to
join Keely and Blake. Adam followed her movement. Forrest
had no choice. Her presence—in the room, in his life—was a tornado swallowing
him whole. His eyes swept over her, taking in every detail. She looked
classically elegant in a form-fitting black dress
,
her thick hair pulled back in a bun
, giving him full view of her face. She
looked beautiful.
“When is she leaving?”
Adam asked.
Forrest peeled his
gaze away and shrugged. “Who
knows.
”
“I watched the two of
you today and realized something.”
“What’s th
at?”
“The two of you slept
together at some point.”
Forrest lifted his
glasses from his nose, and rubbed his eyes. “Dude, this is not the time.”
“I’m trying to make a
point.”
“You should get to it.
This is a repass.”
“You have a thing for
her and she has a
thing for you.”
Forrest peered at
Claire again. She had moved and was talking to his mother and hers. “What’s
your point?”
“Ever thought about
giving in to whatever you two had once more?”
He stared at his
friend.
Adam raked a hand
through his hair. “We
are family. Whatever the
outcome is, nothing will break us.”
Forrest glanced at
Claire talking to his mother. Charles walked over and joined them, said
something to his mother and the two walked out of the room together. For the
first time in the evening,
Claire stood alone. Across
the room, she looked up and held his gaze for a beat. Her eyes flickered in
silent interrogation,
then
she treaded to where Jason, Minka, and
Lily stood talking.
Disappointment rattled
through him. What did he expect? Deep down,
he knew
the answer–for her to come to him. Dismissing the thought, he turned his
attention back to the fallen snow. The last person he wanted to think about was
Claire. Although if he cared to admit, truth was, she’d been occupying his mind
all his life
.
“
What do you have to lose?” Adam pushed.
His
heart.
“My sanity.”
“I hate to tell you
this but I think when it comes to Claire, you lost your sanity a long time
ago.” He slapped Forrest back. “Think about it.”