The Other Side of Blue(10)

I start walking. “Next time, wear them. Something with grip.”

She doesn’t answer, but she starts to place her feet more carefully as we walk. She won’t slip again.

The path widens to a shell driveway, and suddenly a lawn spreads out in front of us. It is lined by rocks and irrigated green. The Bindases aren’t into native flora, like the Dutch owner of our house. He asks the gardener to plant only indigenous plants, the hearty ones that don’t need extra watering from the cistern. Martia says he is “respectful” of Curaçao. Whenever Mother mentions the lovely calla lilies in the Bindases’ yard, Martia doesn’t say anything about the neighbors. She hides her opinions behind her apron.

In the Bindases’ yard, the gardeners are working, digging up piping, moving whole rows of lilies still in bloom. The blossoms have wilted, collapsed into the texture of wet paper. Only the birds of paradise remain stubbornly upright.

Mrs. Bindas waves from the deck along the pool. She’s dressed in flowing yellow palazzo pants—an unsuccessful attempt by overweight women to hide their thighs, my mother would say. I say Mrs. Bindas isn’t heavy. The billowy pants make her look even thinner, slender and light as a swallowtail butterfly. She calls into the shadows of the house. “Mayur, come, please. Your guests are here.”

By the time Kammi and I reach the deck, Mayur is stalking out of the house.

I introduce Kammi to Mrs. Bindas. Kammi shakes her hand like a grown-up.

“I’m very glad you’re staying next door this month. So nice for Cyan and her mother to have some company.” She pauses, maybe thinking how Kammi might help us forget last year. Of course, she doesn’t say any more about that. “And for Mayur, too. He craves having other children of his—you know—age. Before his cousins come, he gets—how do you say? Bored?”

When Mayur saunters forward, Kammi even holds out her hand to him, but he just says hi to her over his shoulder and heads to the pool. He doesn’t even look at me. Short, with dark eyes that might look cute on anyone else, he snaps on goggles and flings himself into the pool, splashing water our way.

Mrs. Bindas titters like a bananaquit. “Oh, Mayur, he is showing off. Just a little for his guests.” She looks at Mayur’s back as he paddles across the pool, and I see a frown furrow her brow. “I’ll send out some refreshments.”

I give Kammi a look. Mayur showing off—as if that’s something new.

Kammi shrugs and scoots a lounge chair into the shade. She slips her sunglasses on, steps out of her shoes, and settles them under the chair, toes pointing away from the pool, heels touching. So perfectly placed. Balanced. Just the way Mother would do it. For a second, I wonder if Kammi is really the daughter and I am the stepdaughter-to-be. Is that what Mother wants?

I toss my flip-flops. One lands upside down in the puddle created by Mayur’s dive.

Kammi retrieves a horse club mystery from her beach bag.

“Aren’t you too old for those?” I ask.

She looks a little embarrassed. “My grandmother sent them to me for the trip. I have to tell her I’ve read them. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

I laugh. “Why don’t you just memorize the blurb on the back, in case she asks?”

“They’re not that bad.”

“If you don’t mind the dumb dialogue and the stupid endings, and how everyone always learns something about themselves. I hate books like that.” Because life isn’t like that. Sometimes, people disappear and there aren’t any lessons to be learned. Only questions left unanswered.

“I just can’t lie,” she says. She acts as if I’ve asked her to lie about something important.

“Suit yourself.” Closing my eyes, I settle back in the lounge chair, ignoring Mayur as he does the butterfly down the length of the pool. Leave it to him to choose the splashiest swim stroke. The one that says “Look at me.”

A few minutes later, water droplets land on my ankles.

“Stop that, Mayur.” I know it’s him before I open my eyes.

“It’s my pool,” he says, splashing from the middle of the pool.

“They’re my legs.”

“My chair.”

“They’re still my legs.” I can’t believe I’m saying this.

Beside me, Kammi dog-ears the page she’s reading. She closes the paperback and tosses it on top of her beach bag.

She actually asks Mayur a question. “Are you on a swim team?”

He stops splashing. He can’t help himself. Someone’s interested in him. He swims to the edge of the pool and plants his head on his folded arms while the rest of him floats in the water. His mouth reaches just out of the water. His goggles add to the idea that he could be a space alien or something.