Chapter 42
Capri
Brady
The pool is on the roof of the former cinema, so the view catches the edge of the preserved signage with a sweeping expanse of sea beyond.
Individual cabanas are cut into the cliff with white furniture and emerald striped cushions.
One is reserved for us. Two bottles of sparkling water chill in a bucket of ice next to a charcuterie plate with bright orange melon wrapped in prosciutto, a variety of marbled cheeses, supple almonds and red berries.
I drop my bag and take out my peach kimono made out of a gauzy-silky cotton to put over my lemon-yellow tank top and white jeans.
The Italian sun is intense even in late afternoon.
Hayes strips off his t-shirt so he’s only wearing his red square cut swim brief with racing stripes.
“I’m going to do some laps,” Hayes says and starts looking for his goggles.
“See, I told you they were a real couple,” a chubby, middle-aged man with balding grey hair in a mint green matching short set says to another man about his age but trimmer and with blond hair.
The blond man squints and looks at both of us before the other one says, “Hi, I’m Phil.
This is my husband, Will. Yes, we know. Phil and Will.
We’re on vacation from Doylestown, Pennsylvania and we’ve been following you on social media this summer.
Well, I have. Will says he doesn’t have social media but I always catch him watching funny videos. ”
“I’m not proud of it but it makes me laugh when people fall down,” Will says with his hands in his pockets. He’s handsome in a distinguished, professorial sort of way.
Phil gives him a judgmental look and shakes his head. “My husband is going to hell for that, I’m sure. But we’ve been together for twenty-eight years so you learn to put up with things.” Will rests his head on Phil’s shoulder.
“I’m Brady and this is…” I pause. There isn’t anyone else around, so I don’t have to say it, but I want to.
I wonder how Hayes will react. “This is my boyfriend, Hayes.” I turn to watch his face.
Hayes puts his arm over my shoulder and kisses me on the cheek before grabbing my hand.
There’s a fifty-fifty chance I might explode from happiness right there in the cabana.
“Oh, we know,” Phil says. “Anyway, we don’t want to bother you boys but I thought I recognized you. Will thought maybe you were models the hotel hired but I told him when you love someone, really love them, it just comes through.”
Phil takes Will’s hand. Could that be us in the future? Still playful with each other and obviously in love? I squeeze Hayes’ hand more tightly.
“Come on, Phil. I want to get back to that jewelry store near the port before someone snatches that ring I have my eye on. Let’s leave these two alone.” They put their arms around each other and head out.
“Well, I guess we fooled them on socials,” I say once they’re out of earshot.
“I don’t think we did,” Hayes says. “When we started, we said we were faking it, but I think I was faking faking it,” Hayes says.
“So does that mean it was real?”
“You do the math.” With that he puts his goggles on and walks to the edge of the pool.
He bends his knees, stretches his arms in front before swinging them back about to dive.
A split-second before the takeoff, he stops.
He pulls down his goggles and walks back over to me.
His eyes connect with mine. Then he kisses me on the mouth and says, “Brady, I love you.”
Then without missing a beat, he walks back and dives into the pool like a gull seeking a fish.
What just happened? For a second I think about jumping in the pool with everything I have on and asking him to repeat what he said.
Instead, I sit with what I heard. Hayes said he loves me.
He said it in college. Once. But things fell apart before I could really understand it.
This is different. I touch my arm and can feel the hairs standing up.
Excitement is part of the sensation, but there is also a sense of calm the allows a wide easy smile to spread across my face.
Hayes Carter loves me.
He’s swimming the length of the pool, head down, the muscles on his back shedding water as they rise above the ripples.
I close my eyes and let the feeling wash over me.
The feeling that we are together, that we feel the same way about each other.
I open my eyes and the sea stretches before me in the distance beyond the pool, and then the blue sky.
Not a single cloud around. Just rock, ocean and sky.
I close my eyes again to seal in the tenderness.
But this time when I open them, I can’t believe what is standing in front of me.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” I squint and make out the thin figure wearing a designer straw hat with a turquoise ribbon, thick gold bracelets and peach pants that happen to be the same exact fabric and shade as my coverup, a detail that does not thrill me.
“The wedding. The Beckenberg wedding is this week, in case you forgot.” No kiss hello. No hug. No questions about how the gig has gone. It’s never been part of our dynamic. It’s one of the reasons I make sure I cover Gemma with kisses and let her know she’s loved.
“That’s not until the weekend,” I say, squirming on the lounger.
“I know, dear, but there are a million things to do. The whole family is at the Silversteins’ villa in Anacapri. The view is average but they’re in Shanghai for some reason so we are their guests. I dropped off your tuxedo and one for Hayes with the concierge.”
“You brought one for Hayes?” I ask, realizing what she said.
What is wrong with her? My throat tightens as the anger grows but I put a lid on it, like I always do.
This would be the perfect time to tell her that I’m not going to the wedding.
That I’ll be flying home and heading to Boston and getting my teaching certificate.
“Of course I brought one for him. He’s here with you, isn’t he?
” I point to the pool. “Great. Glad that worked out. Lawyers and doctors are always a good set.” That’s what I am to my mother, something to match the drapes, but there’s also pride in her voice that makes my chest ache.
Would being a lawyer finally make her proud of me?
Unlikely, but doesn’t every child want to make their parent proud? Just once?
“Brady. Hello?” Her voice snaps me back to reality.
“Mom, I want to tell you…” but I stop. This isn’t the right time.
I’ll tell her later. She’s here all week.
Right now, I just want her to go. She doesn’t know that Hayes told me he loves me a few moments ago and I felt how truly wonderful that word can be.
I get a glimpse of Hayes in the pool, his arms slicing through the water with confidence.
I don’t want to have this conversation with her right now.
I want to be with Hayes. I get up and go to hug her.
She stands back a bit and offers her cheek for a peck.
“It’s so humid here, dear. But it’s nice to see you. I love you,” she says. She means it, but the words lack any real feeling.
“You too, Mother.” I immediately flash back to parents’ weekends at school, when I would watch my friends and their parents almost tackle each other on the quad with warm greetings of love and joy.
That’s not how my family operates. You mostly get a kiss on the cheek from my mom regardless of the weather.
She looks at her phone and says, “They need me back at the villa. I have to run.”
“Don’t you want say hello to Hayes?”
She lowers her sunglasses and scans the pool. “I don’t want to interrupt his swim. Just make sure you have everything altered before the weekend. And nothing too baggy. All eyes will be on the family.” She walks away.
I turn my attention back to Hayes. There are two women at the opposite side of the kidney-shaped pool but he’s the only one swimming laps so he has the water to himself.
I try to block out my mother’s visit and the immediate tension it causes me.
Just once I want to feel like her son, not a member of some firm.
Hayes doesn’t make me feel that way. When I’m with him, I feel like we’re emotionally connected.
He makes me feel taken care of, and important to him, like he needs me to be his best self.
I need him to be my best self. I watch him gliding through the water.
I want to be a part of his life in big ways and small.
I want to need him and be needed by him.
And it’s not just his muscles or that thick hair that has never once seen a proper conditioner.
It’s all of who he is. We just fit together.
Then it hits me. I love him. I am in love with him.
He’s swimming breaststroke toward the end of the pool but I want to tell him.
I need to. I don’t even think about taking off my shirt or kimono or my hat or jeans.
I get up from the lounger as he approaches the side of the pool closest to me, walk over and instead of bending down to stop him, I take a few steps back and cannonball into the water and shout:
“Hayes, I love you!”
My butt lands on the surface, causing a spray to unleash across the pool as I submerge and then reemerge to Hayes standing with his goggles off and his hand on his head.
“What did you say?” he asks.
I tread over to him. “I said, I love you. I love you, Hayes Carter. I love you.”
He swims closer to me and then bends down to scoop me up in his arms. He holds me in front of him, the added weight of my wet clothes no match for his strength or determination. “You are absolutely nuts, you know that?”
I nod repeatedly.
“And I love you too.” He kisses me.