Chapter 11
Eleven
May 25
Ever since Jack arrived in Nashville, his texts have been sporadic. Not surprising. I know he’s in a lot of meetings. Every few hours, I get an XOXO or XXX text, reminding me of him tracing my tan line and giving me that amazing orgasm. I respond with multiple kissing-lip emojis or pictures of Ringo in his shark life jacket swimming in the pool.
Ramone or Gabrielle would take me into town, I’m sure, but I’m enjoying their company, and I’m not yet ready to leave this cocoon with its evidence of Jack everywhere. Instead, I shoot a text to Suzanne:
How cold is Maine? Bet it’s freezing!
She replies immediately.
I found him
I’ve been tailing him off and on for a few days
Over
Me: Ben?
Suzanne: Yes, silly! That’s who you want me to follow and feed you information about. Right?
Me: Yes! Does he know you’re following him?
Suzanne: No, He’s really dumb.
I can’t see you 2 together
Me: Me either
Suzanne: Call you later? In hot pursuit!
Me: Yezzz! Be SAFE!
Suzanne: 10-4
I giggle at Suzanne’s trucker lingo. She’s really getting into this spy business!
The dolphin statues around the pool are spitting water, making a serene background sound as I eat my eggs and toast at the dining table on the Lido Deck. How nice it is to be wearing only a swimsuit with a towel for a skirt. Try doing that in Maine during the month of May.
Gabrielle walks out of the house, carrying a FedEx box. “Miss Isa, this just came for you.”
“For me?” It’s the first mail or parcel delivery I’ve received during my vacation here. Who would send me a package? How would they know where to send it? I take the box from Gabrielle. “Thank you.”
The Nashville return address answers my questions. Jack.
Using my butter knife, I break the tape and open the box. The card on top says Isa and has a hand-drawn heart. A feeling of euphoria sweeps through me, leaving me giddy.
I carefully tear open the envelope and remove the card. The front shows two olives holding hands, with a caption Olive You .
Inside, Jack scrawled, I love you! Happy Birthday Isa XOXOOO ~Jack 3
I look at the date on my phone; it’s my birthday. I’ve completely forgotten.
Jack’s so sweet! But then I’m struck with a horrible thought. How does he know today is my birthday? I don’t recall ever telling him when it was. Did he go through my things again? What was he doing in my wallet? All giddiness has fled, and I’m left with suspicion churning in my stomach with my eggs and toast.
My phone chimes, and I pick it up out of habit.
SUZANNE: Did you see this?
A People magazine article is linked. “In the Mood for Love” is a collage of celebrities with their significant others. Why did she send me this? I’m ready to toss my phone aside, but the flash of familiar sun-bleached hair grabs my eye.
It’s Jack, in a restaurant, kissing a woman in a skimpy red dress. She’s sitting on his lap, the arms that cradled me in the shower the day he left now wrapped around her svelte body. The caption says this is Lila Sharp, Jack’s producer.
My blood runs cold. This photo has to be an old one, from before he met me, right? It can’t be recent. Jack said he had to have a face-to-face conversation with his producer. I thought he meant a formal business meeting in a conference room somewhere. Not this—I grasp for words, my chest tight as I get my thoughts together—funny business. Is this what he meant? They’re certainly face to face!
My eyes burn with impending tears as I read the accompanying article. It’s dated today.
“Jack Kendall getting cozy out and about in Nashville with his new love interest… as he plans for his new tour.”
My throat tightens, and it’s hard to swallow as I examine the picture closely. Jack said he was going to Nashville to retire. To tell his team he’s cutting back. Why is he out with Lila? I thought he didn’t want to leave me and the island and that he would be back in only a few short days. But they’re celebrating his new tour?
I rub my chest, where my heart has been ripped into a million pieces. I can’t believe I believed him. I can’t believe I fell for another man who can’t stay faithful to me.
I screenshot the picture.
Me: What is this?
Suzanne: I’m sorry Isa 3
Me: He said he loved me
Suzanne: I know. If you need me I’m here.
I wipe at my eyes, where the tears have begun to run silently down my cheeks. The movement jostles the shipping carton on my lap, and I’m reminded that I was unpacking it. I wonder whether Jack sent it before or after he cheated on me.
All joy gone, I pick up one of the two small giftwrapped boxes and peel back the starfish-printed paper. A bottle of perfume. Bobbi Brown’s Beach. I take the bottle out of its packaging and spray some on my wrist. It smells like sunscreen, my favorite scent. I won’t be able to smell it and think happy thoughts again.
The second box is small and square. The wrapping paper reveals a haint-blue jewelry box. Inside it rests a white-gold chain with a starfish dangling from it. I pick up the necklace and let the delicate chain dangle from my hand, watching sunlight glint off the tiny links.
Ben never gave me birthday gifts—or Christmas gifts, for that matter. After we married, he never once made me feel special. I stopped remembering my birthday because no one else did.
I pick up all the giftwrap and the boxes and pack everything into the FedEx carton. I’ll give it to Gabrielle, and she can dispose of its contents. Now what do I do? How did I not see that Jack was just like Ben?
Flipping through my phone, I reread all of Jack’s texts. They’re sweet and caring, kind and solicitous. And funny! I’ve laughed more with Jack during these last few weeks than I have in years. I never knew I could feel so connected to a man. Especially someone as gentlemanly as Jack.
Did I think that way about Ben? There were warning signs I should’ve noticed, signs I ignored. Granted, I haven’t seen any of those warning signs with Jack, but we’ve only been together for a short time. Better that the truth about his character comes out now before I’m too involved. I made bad decisions in my first relationship; I’m not going to make the same mistakes again.
At the bottom of the list, after the last series of X’s and O’s, I attach the screenshot of him and Lila. Take a deep breath. Send.
Celebrating? I type, then quickly erase it. I don’t need to caption the picture. It’s self-explanatory.
“Well, it was fun while it lasted” and “This fairy tale romance was just a fairy tale” are the lines I repeat in my head as I prepare myself for the inevitable. Damn it, I enjoyed the fairy tale. There’s nothing wrong with that. But once again, I chose the villain. I wasted my time. I allowed myself to think this relationship was different, but it isn’t, other than I’m in a warmer place. Happy birthday to me.
I have to get out of here. Maybe the villa is vacant so I can go there until I can arrange where to go next. I head into the bedroom to pack my things. I’ll be gone before he comes home.
“We’ll be fine.” I put my hands on my belly and give it a rub as I look for a pair of cutoffs and a shirt to pull on over my suit.
My phone chimes with a text.
JACK: Isa, it’s not what ya think.
Yeah, I’ve watched that movie. Not even worthy of a response.
“You send chills, a sweet suspense. Our beginning, I don't want this to end, can't be caught.” Jack’s voice sings from my phone in his special ringtone.
Not gonna answer.
I’m angrier at myself than at Jack. I knew this was going to happen eventually. Oh, I thought I was growing, with all my library research and self-help reading. But in the end, I just couldn’t resist the allure of romance, of being wooed, of being important to someone.
I open his contact and block him. I’m not falling for it anymore.
I’ll be gone when he gets back. He can compliment whomever he wants, it just isn’t going to be me. I should have listened to Sarah. I should have paid attention to the red flags.
I throw all my things into my old duffel bags and set them by the door.
Oh, one more thing. I go into the kitchen and open the junk drawer, grab a Sharpie, and head back to the bedroom.
The hot pink silicone dildo seems to laugh at me in the drawer next to the bed. I pull it out of its package and write “For you to fuck yourself with –– I. C.” across its length and stick it under his pillow.
So, this is what empowerment feels like.
Ringo barks, startling me. I crouch down and look at his furry face. At least dogs don’t lie. I give him a little scratch. “Wish I could bring you with me.”
Picking up my bags, I step outside and look up at the haint-blue roof of the porch. So much for warding off negative spirits. I head down the stairs toward the big gates. Haint-blue is no longer my favorite color.
“Isa! Isa, wait!” I stop and turn back toward the house. Ramone comes running over to me. “Please, let me take you where you need to go.”
“You know what? I would appreciate that.” I allow him to take my bags from my hands and carry them over to the Expedition. It would be much more dramatic if I walked several miles carrying all my belongings, but I don’t need any more drama today.
Once Ramone loads my bags in the rear of the SUV, we climb into the front seats.
“Where can I take you?” Ramone starts the engine.
“Does Jack know you’re driving me?”
“Yes.” Ramone pauses and looks straight out the windshield. “He wants you to stay.”
“Well, I can’t.” I look straight ahead too as Ramone puts the Expedition into Drive and the air-conditioning starts to blow in my face. “Please take me to Jammin’.”
Ramone steers us toward the opening gate, then once through it, down the steep hill. “He told me to tell you he loves you and he understands why you’re mad, but he says it’s not what you think.”
“He doesn’t know what I think.”
“Please, let him explain,” Ramone begs.
“A picture says a thousand words.” I smile over at Ramone to let him know I’m not upset at him.
A few minutes later, we pull into the dusty lot of We Be Jammin’. Ramone opens the back and hands me my bags. “I wish you’d stay. Me and Gabrielle liked having you in the house. You’re good for Jack.”
“But he wasn’t good for me.” And I walk away, not looking back.
Sarah is behind the bar, and I’m so glad to see a friend. I drop my bags and break down. I can’t be strong anymore.
She stops what she’s doing and rushes over to me, giving me a big hug.
“How could I be so stupid?” I cry on her shoulder, my tears not making a difference on her sweat-soaked T-shirt.
“Suzanne sent the picture to me too.” Sarah squeezes me harder. “I’m so sorry.”
“What am I going to do?” I’m not really asking Sarah; I’m asking myself.
“Do you want to stay with me? I have a couch.”
“I’ll be an inconvenience.” My stomach clenches and I feel weak. “I’m gonna go over to see if there are any vacancies at the villas.” I need some time to myself to process and plan.
“Well, my door is open.” Sarah gives me one last squeeze, then lets me go. “Leave your bags here. I’ll watch them.”
“Thanks so much, friend.”
“For you, always.”
I walk over to the villas on the same path that Jack and I took that first night just over a month ago. When I pass villa 8, bathing suits drying on the porch railing signal someone else is staying there. The bell above the door rings as I enter the office, and Sam, the manager, comes out from the back room.
“Hey, stranger. What can we do for you?”
“Would it be possible to rent a villa again?”
“You’re in luck. I had a cancelation. It’s yours if you want it.”
“I’ll take it,” I say, not caring which villa it is. I’m just glad he can accommodate me.
“Do you know how long you’ll be staying?”
I didn’t even think about that. How much cash do I have left? Jack wouldn’t let me pay for anything while I stayed with him. “I’m not sure. Maybe a week? I need to make some plans.”
“Well, let me know.” He hands me a key attached to an aqua keychain. “Number 18. It’s one of our nicest ones, but it’s all the way at the end of the row. If you can wait about fifteen minutes until Hannah gets back, she can take you there in the golf cart.”
“Nah, I don’t need a ride.” I let out a grateful sigh. “Thank you, Sam. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Not a problem.” Sam walks around the counter and opens the door for me. “Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will, thank you.”
On my way back to the bar, the white-capped waves capture my attention. I love it here. I love being on the island. Leaving isn’t an option. I’ll figure things out; I have to.
While I was gone, Sarah moved my bags to the storage room so no one would trip on them.
“Do you want anything to eat?” she calls from where she’s sweeping sand out of the building, a Sisyphean task. “You can take your meal with you and have it for dinner later.”
“That’s actually a great idea. Thanks.” I take a seat on the stool I used to sit on when Jack flirted with me, trying to guess my middle name. I give Sarah my food order, then request a juice to sip on while I wait.
“So you’re still gonna stay?”
“Well, I can’t let my tutoring clients down. They’re depending on me.”
“I’m glad you’re not going.” Sarah sets the juicy concoction down in front of me. “Wanna get together tonight?”
“How about tomorrow?” I take a sip. “I just need some time right now. I’m looking forward to a quiet evening alone.”
“Yeah, tomorrow’s fine. I start at four.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“If Jack calls or shows up and asks if you saw me, please don’t tell him where I am.”
Sarah pinches the invisible zipper on her lips and pulls it shut.
“Thanks.”
“Your meal should be out soon.”
I finish my juice and carry my bags and dinner back to the villa. I don’t even bother to unpack, just put my meal in the fridge, fall face-first onto the bed, and sob.