“No. Fuck you,” I hissed, waving my hand in the air between us. I left my hand in an upright Stop position as I turned around and started walking toward the door.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” she yelled after me, clacking as fast as possible across the polished concrete floor.
“I’ll send you a postcard, Bridge,” I shouted without looking back.
“Don’t you fucking walk away from me!”
As I pushed the door open the sunlight socked me right in the face, momentarily leaving me dazzled and blind. I squinted hard and stumbled toward the driveway so I could get to my Saab. I knew I should turn around and apologize, but it was like a tide had just plucked me off the beach and carried me out to sea. There was no way available but forward, anymore.
***
When I got home, it was dark and quiet. The living room lights were on and I stalked silently through the front door and down the hall.
It’s your house, dummy. Who are you hiding from?
I stood in my studio for a few minutes, looking at the paintings that were slowly drying against the wall. Bridget would like these, I knew. Maybe she would even forgive me. Probably. Maybe not.
But probably.
Finally I walked out to the living room and looked around. Following my usual route I paced the perimeter, glancing at each photo along the way. Images of Aunt Winnie and my mother, people who were probably cousins, maybe even my father looked out of old photos.
What was I looking for? The same pictures, the same route, yet something was missing.
Even though I had seen them thousands of times, I still couldn’t quite connect to them. They were my family, yet they felt like strangers, props I had accumulated. Maybe I had seen them too often, rendering them strange and unfamiliar. Or maybe I really was as unmoored and disconnected as I felt.
I found Jackson sitting outside in the dark, by the pool. The underwater lights were on, casting him in a bluish, ethereal glow.
“Hey you,” he said as I sat down on the chaise next to him.
“Hey,” I sighed, suddenly very tired.
“Nice night.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, as the water slapped gently against the sides of the pool.
He stared past the pool toward the valley. I watched the reflection of the city lights in his eyes and every so often, a small breeze ruffled his hair. I could smell the orange blossoms and jasmine heavy on the air.
The last amber rays of the sunset melted into the violet sky as we sat, saying nothing. After a while I noticed our breathing was in sync. I smiled at his profile and he turned to me grinning, his hand hovering in mid-air.
“You’ve got something on you, there,” I teased.
“Oh yeah? Where?”
“Right… just about there. You’ve been velvet-boxed,” I cautioned him.
“Oh geez,” he sighed. “I knew I felt something.”
“Yeah,” I said sympathetically. “Those things can really sneak up on you.”
He held out the box flat on his fingertips and I stared at it. A bubble of teenagery excitement percolated in my ribcage as he reached over with his other hand and opened it. A pair of perfectly blue-white diamond drop earrings glittered like they were lit from within.
“What’s this for?” I breathed excitedly.
“Traditionally, earrings are for the ears,” he replied.
“Ha! Oh you don’t say… May I?”
He nodded. “I think you’d better. Unless you’re concerned about the consequences of being velvet-boxed, yourself.”
“Oh, I’m willing to risk it…”
I pulled the silver hoops out of my ears and reached for the box, plucking each piece from its mooring and then pushing them through my earlobes. The earrings felt solid but light, and I could feel them swaying against my skin when I shook my head.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re beautiful, Margot,” he said watching me with a happy, open smile. He leaned forward, sliding his hand behind my neck and pulling me toward him. His lips found mine and he sighed into my mouth, kissing me tenderly, deeply. I felt the tension of the day slipping away from me like sand through my fingers.
“Thank you so much,” I sighed happily.
“You’re welcome,” he said, pulling back and brushing the hair off my forehead. “I just wanted to give you something you could keep close to you, like I’m whispering right in your ear.”
“Well that sounds sort of naughty,” I murmured, wriggling in my seat.
Actually that sounds really Nice, I remarked inwardly.
“Could be,” he shrugged. His hand reached out, lacing his fingers against mine as he shifted to look up at the sky. I followed suit, staring into the blurry smudge of grey and black, illuminated by the half moon.