When she exhales, I pull the curling white smoke into my mouth.
Her eyes dart to my lips. I trace small circles on the soft, damp nape of her neck. She sighs and a wide smile spreads on her face, her eyelids droop as the joint starts to take effect.
I take her hands in mine and lift them to press a kiss to each of her palms.
What started as a casual caress turns into a genuinely interested inspection. Her nails are short and painted in a glossy color that reminds me of Marble Slab’s sweet cream ice cream. They’re elegant and with not a single chip in sight. But her fingers and the back of her hands have faint scars that are completely at odds with the rest of her.
“Don’t look at my hands,” she says and pulls them out my grasp and tries to tuck them under the sheets. I grab her wrists and pull them back up and after a few seconds she stops resisting and lets me look at them.
“Why not?” I ask.
“They’re terrible. My kids are picky eaters, and most nights I make three different meals, and my hands take a beating, nicks and cuts, oil splatters, whatever. I draw as little attention to them as possible. Nude nails, no extravagant rings.”
She curls her fingers inward and I lower my head to press kisses to her knuckles as I uncurl them one at a time so that I can press our palms together. My hands dwarf hers.
“They’re beautiful. And your kids are lucky. Even before I went to Blackwell, I don’t remember my mother cooking a single meal.”
She turns our joined hands over and examines mine. “Tell me about her. Where is she?”
“Right now? In College Station. Hayes came back to town and she scampered. She doesn’t need money since my stepfather left her an annuity. We’ve all been estranged from her for years, except Dare – my youngest brother.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.” The pity in her eyes makes my skin feel one size too small.
“Don’t be. I’m not. Like you said, family isn’t for everyone.” My mother didn’t completely abdicate her role. But she didn’t do much more than was required to keep Child Protective Services off her back.
All the things a parent is supposed to guide you through— friendships, falling in love, learning to drive, getting applications in on time —I taught myself, and then tried to teach my younger brothers. I did the best I could, but it wasn’t always enough.
“Yeah, but still, I’m sorry,” she repeats, her expression not at all what it should be. I don’t want to talk about my mother and tarnish the shine off this last night with the bitterness just talking about her evokes.
“Come here and I’ll show you how you can make it feel better,” I say with a lascivious grin and a waggle of my brows. She laughs, and glides through the water toward me.
Adieu
Regan
We’ve been quiet most of the morning. Stone’s family has already arrived, and we’ve agreed that when we get back to the resort, he’ll drop me off and go drop off the rental. We won’t see each other again until the night before we’re both set to leave.
I’m bereft of him already.
This trip has been like finding my way home. I was a planet on the verge of extinction, saved by this man’s divine light. I may not get to keep him, but that light, the perspective, the feeling that I can do the hard things I’ve been avoiding – I’m taking those home with me. It’s time to figure out who I am. But God, I wish we had more time.
“I don’t want to go back.” I give up trying to hold it in and sit on the bed, the T-shirt I was folding gripped in my hands.
He joins me, sitting so our thighs touch, but he doesn’t put his arm around me. And I need him to, so desperately.
“I know,” he says, his voice is as hollow as my heart feels.
“Are you okay?” I ask, running my fingers along the soft scruff on his jaw.
He nods. “For now,” he whispers. He leans in and my eyes flutter closed. My lips tingle in anticipation of his touch. Instead of his mouth, the firm pads of his fingers stroke my lips.
My eyes pop open in surprise, and the conflict and misery in his eyes make me want to scream and cry at the same time.