I ran down into the surf. My foot slipped out from under me and I went down. I screamed in anger as the water soaked into my clothes, but I was cut off when a wave smacked me in the face and pulled me under. My mouth was full of salt and I remember thinking this was one of the dumbest ways to die - caught off guard by the ocean surf while having a shitfit. I had no air in my lungs before I went down. The next wave turned me over in the dark and I didn't know which way was up or down or anything.
Then somehow just before the panic took over I was pulled up. He had a hold of the back of my shirt. The weight of me must have knocked him off balance because he fell, but when the next wave came we were lying with our feet to it and he was on top of me, pinning me to the sand.
"Are you okay?"
I coughed salt water out of the back of my throat, but he stayed put, almost crushing the breath out of me. As the waves crashed again I could feel them tug at our bodies, but he held me firm against them. "You lunatic," he said. "You little fucking psychobitch."
"I'm sorry." I was so ashamed. I'd made such a fool of myself. I knew what was coming next. A cold, wet ride home. A goodbye. An 'I'll call you' that never materialized.
He held me pinned. "You love me, lunatic?" he said. "Do I drive you this crazy?"
I nodded and sputtered and sobbed. I'd never said it before. I was so afraid I'd scare him off - it had only been three weeks, after all. I couldn't breathe all that well, but it didn't matter. I was cold and wet and afraid but it didn't matter, because he crushed his mouth on mine and said, "I love your crazy. I love you. I never loved anyone like you before."
Chapter Seven
Jaime
I'm just about to head out from the gatehouse when Beca calls. "You busy?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Nothing. I was just wondering if you were free this evening. I got a sitter and I thought we could out to eat - bring Emily. Make it a double date."
I barely stifle my groan. This means she's already told Emily that I'm interested. "Don't you want a little alone time with Marcus?" I say. "You don't see enough of each other."
"Since when were you a marriage guidance counselor? Me and Marcus are fine. I just thought it would be fun is all."
Yeah right. I'm not going to let myself get railroaded into this. I know what she wants. She's playing matchmaker and she's got it all set up perfectly in her head. She's probably already figuring out what to wear for the christening of mine and Emily's firstborn. "I can't," I say.
"Jaime..."
"No, I'm serious. I've got to stay late."
"How come? How much security do these people need? They've got dogs, fences, cameras - I've seen those places up on Laurel. They're like Guantanamo."
I sigh and turn around, coincidentally into the face of the security camera over the gate. It winks a lazy red eye at me. Time to come clean. I can't keep letting her construct this little fantasy in her head. It's not fair on any of us. "Listen," I say. "It's not that I don't like Emily..."
Beca hisses like a pot boiling over.
"...don't make that noise. It's not my fault I don't love her even half as much as you do. She's very nice, very pretty, but I'm kind of...I don't know. My mind's elsewhere lately."
I hear her exhale. It sounds a little like she might even be giving up. "What are you saying?" she says. "You're seeing someone else?"
"No. Not seeing. Not exactly. It's complicated. Besides, it's none of your business."
"You don't have to be rude."
"I have to go, Beca. It's time for my rounds."
I'd like to think we were done, but I know it's wishful thinking. My sister has a way of moving heaven and earth in order to get exactly what she wants. She didn't want to go into hospital to have Chuy, even though she was a first time mom and the doctors recommended it. Beca was adamant - it was too expensive, she said. Which is why she kept the lid on her contractions until the baby was practically crowning. She had him right there on the living room floor. What she saved on hospital bills she ended up spending having the carpet torn up, but that had also been on her to-do list - for several years she'd been on at Marcus to get rid of the old carpet and put in hardwood floors.
The wind is hot and dry as I make my way up the hillside. The summer is nearly done - hurricane season on the Gulf coast, brushfire season here in California. Another year older and still no wiser. By the time they were my age my parents had been married for eighteen months; it seems insane to imagine that they were ever that young, or that stupid.
When I reach the pool I nearly turn back. I don't know how I'm going to stand being there. Amber is stretched out on one of the sun-loungers, wearing a little black bikini and giant sunglasses. Her skin is so pale it almost glows. Her legs seem to go on forever. She lies motionless, her fingers carefully spread to catch the sun. If it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of her chest you'd swear she'd been carved out of marble.