walked around a flea market at Lalille Pier. One booth had the perfect little silver box for Kees’s ashes. Sleek and handsome and simple. When the vendor learned what it was for, she pressed it into Daisy’s hands and wouldn’t take their money.
“Que Dieu vous bénisse,” she said, kissing their cheeks.
Her blessing on their faces, they turned down Palace Avenue. The sleek black awning of Ink & Think, the tattoo parlor, beckoned from across the street. Not a glance or a word was exchanged as they crossed over.
Just a K, they decided. The artist copied the letter’s style straight out of Daisy’s fish tattoo and inked it into them in black. Erik’s on the inside of his right wrist. Daisy’s in the hollow of her left hip bone.
She came to him that night. The tiniest green flicker in her eyes as she wound her arms around his neck and found his mouth with hers. He slid his hands up the back of her sweater and unclipped her bra. His touch was careful, knowing her breasts were still sore. Their sorrowful weight filled his palms but they stayed dry.
Her hands trembled as she pulled his shirt off and pushed his jeans down. She eased him to the bed and lay on top of him, the full length of her body all along his. Her head on his chest, her toes against his ankles. Naked save for her jewelry. Every bit of adornment she wore was something Erik had given her. On her finger. At her ears. Nestled in her throat.
He held her, thinking he was in no mood for sex, but then he was growing hard under her empty belly and filling up with a hungry and desperate mood to connect.
“Can we?” he asked, his hands buried in her hair. Wanting to be inside her skin and her body and her heat.
“Not yet,” she said, sliding down the mattress. “Soon.”
“You don’t have—”
“Shh. I want to.”
Her hair fell over his chest and stomach and her arms curved like wings over his legs. He hadn’t the strength to savor her touch, instead he gave in, gave over and she quickly brought him around with her soft hands and her warm mouth. He came with a thunderous shiver through his chest and a wet hiss of air through his teeth.
“Dais,” he whispered, another shiver going across both shoulders. Then one more out his ears and he was still.
She pulled the covers over them. They fell asleep side-by-side. Shoulders nestled, his right arm along her left flank, the tattooed K’s pressed tight together.
“COME HERE,” CHRISTINE SAID from Key West. “It’s beautiful. You can take the studio apartment and live on the beach. Come here and be in the sunshine. Fall into the ocean. Do nothing. You can come here.”
“Come,” Francine said. “It’s beautiful here. It’s apple blossom time. We’re rolling in eggs and strawberries. You can be in the carriage house. Come here, darlings.”
“I guess we could,” Daisy said, washing dishes.
“If you want to,” Erik said absently.
“I don’t know. I mean— Shit…”
A wine goblet slipped out of her soapy fingers and smashed in pieces on the tile floor. She jumped away, screwing up her face. “God dammit, I hate that sound,” she said.
Erik froze, staring at the glistening shards.
He was remembering another time. Another broken sound. A plate flung against the wall. A jagged rubble falling at his feet. His first marriage in pieces.
“You don’t fight for anything you love,” Melanie cried. “I can’t stand your complacency anymore. I plan our vacations. I plan our time and you just show up. Without an impassioned opinion, you just go where I tell you.”
Erik stared with a dawning realization.
She’s waiting for you.
Make a decision. Do something.
Lead your life, don’t just follow it around.
“Let’s go,” he said, opening the cleaning closet door and reaching for broom and dustpan. “We’re going. We’re getting out of here.”
She looked at him, her eyes brimming as he crouched down and started sweeping up the mess.
“Let’s just get in the car and drive,” he said. “Drive down the coast. We’ll stop in Maine, we’ll stop in Boston, we’ll stop in New York. We can make it up as we go along. Let’s head for La Tarasque and take it from there.”
“All right,” she said. “I want to take Kees with us.”
“So do I.”
“I can’t leave him alone in the empty h—”
“We’ll take him with us,” Erik said. “Not everything has to be a thing.”
The dustpan filled with broken glass, he stood up. He