Chapter 8
Eight
Jason
The shower has plenty of room to fit both of us. Victor lets me go first, says he wants to watch the last bit of sunset from the balcony. I wash myself quickly and only briefly luxuriate under the huge rainfall shower head with closed eyes, imagining Victor’s hard, wet body wrapped around my own.
Surely he didn’t mean anything by that comment. He can’t possibly have anything but regret for that one night, that one mistake we made.
I finish in the bathroom as quickly as possible and pull on a pair of khaki pants and a linen shirt, then vacate the bedroom.
He’s leaning on the balcony railing, looking out over the rainforest valley.
The sun has disappeared behind the tree line and twilight has descended.
His back is to me and his arms braced on the railing.
Every part of him I can see is muscle—triceps, calves, the long line of his back.
His skin is a golden light brown, with a faint dusting of hair on his legs.
His feet are bare and I’m mesmerized by his shapely ankles.
Good Lord, why am I staring at his ankles, of all things?
He must hear me approaching, since he turns around and smiles that smile at me. Christ. He's smiling at me like I've already said yes to something I haven't been asked.
“Um…shower’s free,” I say lamely. Obviously, if I’m not in it, the shower must be free.
“Great,” he says. “I showered earlier, but I want to change for dinner. I’ll be two shakes.”
I wait until he’s safely behind the closed bedroom door before taking his place on the balcony.
I do not need a repeat of seeing Victor half-naked today.
It’s only another couple of minutes before Victor appears in the living area, in navy blue pants and a pale blue guayabera that sets off his skin and light brown hair.
“Shall we?”
I follow him out the front door, where we slide our feet into shoes, and walk down the torch-lit path to the restaurant. All around us, the rainforest is loud—howler monkeys in the distance, birds settling in for the night, the constant rustle of leaves.
The restaurant is another large, open-air bamboo structure. My flight delays seem long ago now and my jet lag has lifted, or maybe I'm just distracted enough not to feel it. It’s exactly what Kelsey and Adrienne wanted for their destination wedding week.
“There they are,” Victor says, pointing at the rest of the wedding party seated at two large tables between the bar and the path to the pool.
One table is filled with a group of people—Kelsey’s college friends and some friends of Adrienne’s, I presume.
The hostess leads us to the other table, where Kelsey immediately stands to greet us.
“Dad,” she says. “I didn’t get a hug earlier. ”
I wrap my arms around my stepdaughter and let her squeeze me tight. “Hi, sweetie.”
She hugs Victor just as tight. “Hi, Daddy.”
Victor takes the empty seat next to a man about my age, with salt-and-pepper hair and a pair of reading glasses perched on his patrician nose.
I sit in the remaining chair between Kelsey and Victor and catch the scent of sandalwood and citrus.
Victor's scent, the same one from that night fifteen years ago, when rain pounded against the windows and I buried my nose in his neck while…
Mother of God, I need to stop thinking about that night.
“What did you think of yoga, Dad?” Kelsey asks. There’s a hint of something in her voice as she looks between me and Victor. I flush, even though she cannot possibly read my dirty mind.
“Your stepfather’s a natural,” Victor says, unfolding his cloth napkin and draping it across his lap.
“Hardly,” I protest.
“We ordered some appetizers for the table,” Adrienne says. Her tailored linen shirt is crisp and immaculate despite the tropical humidity. “The server said they’re resort specialities.”
“And the cocktails here are incredible,” the man on the other side of Victor says, raising a colorful drink garnished with an orchid. This must be Logan, Adrienne’s law partner. He drapes an arm around Silas’s shoulders. “Silas is already talking about ordering a second.”
“It’s a celebration!” protests Silas. His blond bangs flop over his forehead, and he pushes them back, revealing startling green eyes ringed with a hint of eyeliner. “My first Broadway show is in production, and my two favorite lawyers are getting married. What’s not to celebrate?”
He holds his cocktail glass out and looks meaningfully between Logan and Adrienne until they also lift theirs and the three of them clink their glasses. Logan leans to whisper something in Silas’s ear and Silas nods. He sets his cocktail glass down and takes a sip of water.
“How is everyone liking the resort so far?” Victor asks. He was the one who suggested this resort to Kelsey and Adrienne and managed to negotiate a significant discount for the resort packages.
“The pool is amazing,” Silas says. “Logan and I spent the afternoon there, before I went to yoga.” I wonder again what Logan did while the rest of us were flowing from downward-facing dog to whatever the names are for the other poses Victor put us through.
“And the spa is fantastic,” Adrienne adds. “We booked couples’ massages for later this week.”
“Sounds nice,” Victor says. His arm brushes against my side, and when I glance at him, he raises an eyebrow.
She meant for the couples here. Silas and Logan. Kelsey and Adrienne. Victor and I are not a couple. I highly doubt that Adrienne booked a couple’s massage for her soon-to-be father-in-law and stepfather-in-law.
Though the thought of being in a massage room with Victor—both of us undressed, the tropical air heavy with essential oils, hands on bare skin—brings heat to my face.
“Dad? What are you drinking?” Kelsey asks, pulling me back to the table.
“I’ll take a Scotch, on the rocks,” I say. I’m too distracted to deal with the complexities of the cocktail menu. “Ardbeg, if they’ve got it; Glenfiddich, if they don’t.”
“Same,” Victor tells the server and I remember how we drank Ardbeg that night, glass after glass, until neither of us was thinking clearly enough to stop what I started.
The appetizers arrive, platters of local delicacies featuring plantains, ceviche, and tropical fruit. As everyone reaches for the food, Victor’s hand accidentally brushes against mine. I pull back like I’ve touched a hot pan.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. Fifteen years of carefully maintained distance from Victor, collapsing on day one here.
“So, Victor,” Logan says, spearing a piece of mango, “Adrienne tells me you’re a fitness celebrity. I think I’ve seen your videos advertised.”
Victor ducks his head and smiles. “The channel’s doing well. I never expected to build such a following when I started teaching.”
“Daddy’s being humble,” Kelsey interjects. “His online classes have millions of subscribers. And he’s got celebrity clients in New York and L.A.”
“It never would have happened without your mom,” Victor says quietly. His hand brushes against me again, this time the outside of my thigh, under cover of the tablecloth. “She was the one who convinced me to sign up for my first teacher training.”
The mention of Leah brings a momentary hush to the table. Even after fifteen years, the loss of my wife feels raw in certain moments.
“She said you were a natural teacher,” I tell him. My voice comes out rougher than I intended. “She always knew you’d find your place.”
Kelsey looks back and forth between me and Victor and her head cocks at me when I say that.
I wince internally. I didn’t mean to sound so pompous and judgmental.
When I married Leah, Victor was a struggling fitness instructor, picking up as many personal training sessions as he could in between shifts at Starbucks to pay the bills.
He’d been Leah’s best friend since high school, but he and I never seemed to have much in common.
Leah chastised me more than once for not being friendly enough to him.
Of course, I doubt that by “friendly,” she’d meant for me to fuck him on our living room floor the night of her funeral.
“To Mom,” Kelsey says, raising her cocktail glass, with its striped paper straw, pink umbrella, and purple orchid speared on a slice of pineapple.
“To Leah,” everyone at the table echoes, even Logan and Silas, who never knew her.
I feel a flood of complicated emotions. Gratitude for the years I had with Leah.
Grief at her loss, which has never completely gone away, though it’s duller now and I can think of her on occasions like this and wish she were here without feeling the gaping void of her absence.
And guilt, which has never dulled, over what happened with Victor when we crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.
I try to shake it all off as our entrees arrive—local fish for me, something vegetarian for Victor—and the conversation shifts to wedding details.
“The ceremony site is even more beautiful than the photos,” Kelsey says. “We did a walk-through this afternoon.”
“The resort coordinator has everything under control,” Adrienne adds. “All we have to do is show up and say ‘I do.’” She leans toward Kelsey and kisses her on the cheek. With another pang of grief, I wish desperately that Leah were here to see her daughter get married.
And then I catch a glimpse of Victor, smiling at the two of them and I remember that she does have two parents who love her to witness her wedding. Victor turns that soft smile on me and I smile back before I can stop myself.
“And party for a week in paradise with your favorite people,” Silas says, gesturing around the table.
“So, how did you two meet?” I ask Silas. Admittedly, I’m desperate to focus on anything but the man beside me, but I'm also genuinely curious how this young man ended up with someone obviously old enough to be his father.
Silas and Logan exchange a glance that can only be described as guilty, then Logan sighs and nods at Silas. “Go ahead. You can tell them.”
Silas folds his hands primly in front of him and looks down at them. Then he blinks his ludicrously long eyelashes, looks up at the table under the fall of his blond bangs, and says, “Well, my now ex-boyfriend cheated on me and so I decided to seduce his dad for revenge.”
My mouth drops open and I look between the two of them. “Wait, Logan is…?”
“My ex-boyfriend’s dad,” Silas repeats with a glint in his eye.
“And you…?” Victor asks, a note of laughter in his voice.
“Revenge-fucked him to spite my ex,” Silas confirms with a self-satisfied nod. “And then fell in love with him, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I echo weakly.
Kelsey breaks out in giggles. “I never get tired of hearing this story,” she says. “It’s like the set-up for a romance novel.”
“A very dirty romance novel,” Silas says, grinning at her. “Complete with—”
“Silas.” Logan’s tone is mild, but the effect on Silas is instantaneous. He sits up straighter and puts on a serious face, even though his eyes still dance with mischief.
“Yes, Da—Logan.”
Kelsey dissolves into giggles again and Silas joins her.
Logan rolls his eyes at his young paramour, but he’s got an indulgent expression on his face that I bet lives there most of the time.
He rubs Silas’s back affectionately, and the casual intimacy of the gesture lands somewhere in my chest. How long has it been since I've had that kind of connection?
I risk a glance at Victor and he’s watching Logan and Silas, too. Am I imagining that his expression mirrors my own feelings? I must be. Victor is hot, fit, and a celebrity yoga and fitness instructor. He could have a different man in his bed every night, from Silas’s age to his own.
I, on the other hand, don’t do casual sex and the last date I went on was with Leah.
When the dessert menu arrives, Victor declines the chocolate offering.
“Don’t like chocolate anymore?” I ask.
“You and Mom used to fight over the last piece of any chocolate dessert,” Kelsey points out.
Our eyes meet, and I know we’re both remembering demolishing the last half of a chocolate torte in my kitchen at three in the morning, both of us wrung out from the funeral, from crying, from everything.
Victor had a smudge of chocolate on his lip that I wiped away with my thumb before kissing him for the first time.
Kelsey glances between us again, her brow furrowing slightly.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I need to quit exchanging looks with Victor.
I can’t even imagine how upset Kelsey would be to know what happened between her stepfather and her father, her mother’s best friend.
The thought has haunted me for a decade and a half.
As dinner winds down, the conversation among the others turns to plans for the week ahead.
“Tomorrow is our group trip to the volcano, then the hot springs, where we can also have lunch,” Adrienne tells us.
I make a mental note to bring my binoculars and the laminated trifold brochure with illustrations of the most common Costa Rican birds.
When dinner ends and we all stand to leave, the close quarters around the table force me to step nearer to Victor than I intend. Victor’s hand comes to rest briefly on my lower back, a steadying gesture that I feel all the way down my spine. His touch lingers a moment before falling away.
Outside the restaurant, the night air is thick with tropical scents and the sounds of nocturnal creatures coming to life in the surrounding rainforest. The pathway is lit with soft lanterns casting golden pools of light among the foliage.
“Anyone up for a nightcap?” Adrienne suggests. “I’ve got a great bottle of Scotch from a grateful client and our balcony has a fantastic view of the rainforest valley.”
I’m tempted but suddenly exhausted by the emotional weight of the evening. “I think I’ll turn in. Still adjusting to the time difference.”
“I should probably go to bed too,” Victor says. “I’m leading the sunrise yoga session for anyone who’s interested.”
Logan and Silas agree to the nightcap and head off with Adrienne in the direction of their casita. Kelsey hangs back a moment, looking between me and Victor with her eyes narrowed.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” I ask.
She hesitates, then steps forward to hug me, then Victor. “I’m glad you’re both here,” she says, then adds quietly, “Mom would be, too.”