Chapter 12
Twelve
May 25
The villa is exceptionally nice. Not only is it updated and fitted with a full kitchen, but there’s a small covered porch facing the water where I can sit and watch the sun set. I slide open the glass door and step out. Looking up, I am hit with an overwhelming canopy of haint-blue. Doesn’t Sam know this is an ineffective color? It doesn’t ward off evil spirits. If anything, it invites them.
The water looks inviting, and I decide to take advantage and float away my worries. Stepping back inside, I slap some sunscreen on, wincing at the fragrance that reminds me of Jack’s treachery, grab a towel, and run toward the water, stripping down to my suit and leaving everything on a chaise on the way.
Jack’s swimming pool was nice, but nothing beats the warm salty ocean. I love how the waves rock me. It’s very soothing. All sounds are muffled by the crashing waves and the strong breeze. It must be what being in a womb is like, muffled, warm, and watery.
I realize I haven’t been back in the ocean since the sea urchin incident. I better keep an eye out for those nasty little porcupines.
Running all sorts of scenarios through my head, I ask myself, do I stay? Do I leave?
I’ve made friends and feel at home here. I have a job here, even though it doesn’t pay. I’ll need to find something that does—maybe on St. Thomas like Sebastian?—and then find a place to rent. I can have my baby here. And with Jack touring, I won’t run into him very much either.
I’m staying. And while I’m here, I not only need to watch out for sea urchins, but I also need to watch out for sharks posing as Olympic swimmers who aren’t paying attention to where they’re going.
My stomach starts rumbling, telling me it’s time to get out of the water and eat some dinner. I’m not arguing. Quite the contrary. After the separation and ensuing divorce, I didn’t eat for weeks. I’m not going to do that now. Jack just isn’t that important. My baby and I are more important to me. Plus, I’ve been hurt so much, I can’t feel anything anymore.
I trudge through the surf, pulling myself from the froth and onto the beach, then grab my towel and clothes and head up to the villa. At the outdoor shower, I hang my things on a hook and turn on the spray. Still in my bathing suit, I get under the water and stand there, letting the spray massage my head. Letting it wash away the past few months of ups and downs.
“Isa?”
Oh, shit!
“Isa?” The voice is louder, as if the person has moved closer.
I turn the water off and quickly wrap my towel around me. Thank goodness I kept my suit on. This might be the end villa, but that doesn’t mean it’s private.
Still dripping, I step out of the wooden stall to see Sam holding the largest bouquet of red roses I’ve ever seen.
“Sorry to interrupt you.” He keeps his gaze trained on the water. I bet he’s seen some things in his time here. “I was coming to put these in your villa when I heard you back here.” He turns away as I slip my sandals on. “I wanted to get them to you quickly before they started to wilt.”
“Those are for me?” There must be five or six dozen roses in that large blue vase.
“Yes, do you want me to put them inside for you?” Sam hitches the vase higher in his straining arms.
“Is there a card?”
“I’m not sure.”
Feeling bad for Sam and not wanting to see him struggle to hold them any longer, I make a hasty decision. “We can take them inside.”
“You got it.” He heads toward the unlocked slider, and I rush to open it for him. In the kitchen, I shift the fruit bowl to the side and he sets the vase in the middle of the table. Then he steps back to stand beside me, and we stare at the riot of roses.
Sam finally breaks the silence. “Someone really likes you. Even our couples who come here to get engaged don’t order this many flowers.”
If he really liked me, he wouldn’t have been seen kissing another woman. I can’t say that to Sam, though. It’s not his fault Jack is a lying cheater.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many cut flowers together at one time.” This is more elegant than the flower selection at Hannaford’s.
“How do you like the villa? Is there anything you need?”
“I’m fine, thank you. Everything’s great.”
“Call if you need anything.” Sam leaves through the front door, closing it behind him.
Taking a deep breath, I face the garden of red flowers on the table. Their fragrance has overtaken the villa and seems out of place here on the island. They’re beautiful, but I don’t think roses are a local flower. Jack must have had these flown in from somewhere else.
I take the card and look at it, certain I already know what it says.
I understand why you’re mad. I would be mad at me too.
Please believe I didn’t do what you think I did.
I won’t bother you.
I am here if you need me.
Love, J
Now I feel bad for two reasons.
Number one, no one has ever apologized to me, and number two, no one has ever sent me flowers, especially so many beautiful roses like these.
How can I go from being so connected to being so disconnected to feeling guilty for something I didn’t do and all in one day?
All the decisions I’ve made have put me in the position I’m in now.
“Well, I’m not going to allow myself to feel guilty about any of this,” I announce to the empty room. After opening the front door to the villa, I turn to my attention to the roses. Grunting as I pick up the vase, I remember Zeus yelling at Jack to lift with your legs, not with your back and I follow his instruction. I carry the huge bouquet outside and set it on the small front porch. Back inside, I shut the door behind me and on Jack’s apology.
My stomach grumbles. I’m going to eat my dinner in peace, and I hope the iguanas do too. Opening the refrigerator, I pull out the meal I brought over from the bar. I hope the kitchen packed me something yummy.
Jerk chicken salad, with orange slices and a side of french fries. Thank you, Sarah!
Dinner is wonderful, even if the fries are a little chewy, but that’s my fault for not taking the time to reheat them properly. Guess it’s another opportunity to practice rejecting guilt. I grab a pen and dig my journal out of my pack, then sit out on the haint-blue-covered porch to write a long-overdue entry.
Here I am facing freedom again. This time, I’m the one who left the relationship.
I’m not going to let myself be distracted by pretty words. I won’t put up with being treated poorly.
Self-discovery? Who knows if that is even a thing? The only discovery I have made is that I am good at making huge mistakes and then trying to correct them by making even bigger mistakes.
I think the term should be “people-discovery.” I’m discovering more and more about people. I want to think people are more like me, and I’m shocked when they aren’t. When people like Ben or Jack don’t treat me the way I treat them, I get hurt—shocker! Lesson learned.
I need to realize that people are different, and that people don’t always treat me the way I treat them.
In preschool, I learned life lesson #1: “Treat others how you want to be treated.” But it took me twenty-nine years to learn not to expect that other people learned the same lesson.
I was once a girl who rushed into warmth and companionship without considering compatibility or stability, assuming my needs would be looked at as important enough to be met. And now, I’m a woman who needs to realize that my needs are important and need to be met, and I will do that. I will find my own stability.
Glass breaking on the other side of the villa makes me jump. It sounds like someone threw a bottle at my door and then picked up the broken pieces of glass and threw those at the door too. Running inside, I peek through the front window. Three iguanas are feasting on the roses, the vase in pieces around them. I didn’t expect the roses to attract the iguanas so fast or that the iguanas would be so noisy and destructive about their meal.
Well, I’m glad someone enjoyed the flowers. Guilt threatens to invade, but I push it away. I’m feeding Jack’s apology to the iguanas. The thought tickles my funny bone. What a surreal day.
Note to self: Sweep up the glass in the morning when it’s light out and the iguanas are back up in the trees. I don’t want anyone stepping on the glass in bare feet.
I return to my seat on the beach-side porch. Watching the sun sink down over the ocean never gets old. It’s a sunset I can watch over and over every day of my life, with someone or without.
The bugs emerge and the bats come out to eat the bugs, and I take cover inside.
I brush my teeth and pull on my old T-shirt, then shut off the lights and climb into bed, taking my phone from the nightstand to check my messages before I fall asleep.
Nothing from anyone. If I feel a pang at not having heard from Jack, I ignore it. I blocked his number for just this reason. I don’t want to resort to messaging him in a moment of weakness. Instead, I decide to check on Suzanne.
Me: Hey, how are you doing? Everything OK?
Suzanne: Everything’s good with Henry. It’s you I’m worried about. Are you OK?
Me: I’m doing great. I’m staying back at the Villas. I’m gonna stay on the island.
Suzanne: That’s great! Where’s Jack?
Me: Don’t know. Don’t care.
Suzanne: Really? Don’t care?
Me: Really
Suzanne: Wow! I thought you two had something.
Me: Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have expected better from a music star.
Suzanne: How are you feeling? Baby and everything?
Me: Good, I’m hungry a lot. Eating tons.
Suzanne: Have you seen a doctor yet?
Me: Funny you should ask. I’m seeing Simon tomorrow.
Suzanne: Who’s Simon?
Me: Dr Easton, the doc at the clinic. He pulled out the spines after my accident.
Suzanne: You call him by his first name?
Me: Yeah, I work with him at the library. We’re tutors.
Suzanne: Oh that’s cool. Message me tomorrow and tell me about the baby.
Me: Will do. Night
I’m hungry again. Tomorrow I need to stock the refrigerator, so I make a shopping list on my phone of everything I could eat right now. I drift off to sleep thinking about food and for once in a long time, not thinking about the men in my life.