Chapter 17
The house hasn’t been this full since…well, since ever. One of the plans for building this giant house on a neighboring island was to have a place to get away and host parties and events without having them connected to the resort. That never really panned out. Turns out it’s much easier to host events at the resort itself, and we don’t have a lot of friends.
Except for Avery, of course, but even he tends toward The Sands these days. The Merit Island house has more or less become my private second residence. It’s just as well, I suppose, as I was the one who paid for most of it. And I wouldn’t consider myself upset about how it all turned out. After a few months of my city life, complete with the commute, the firm, courtroom battles, and constant cell service, I’m more than ready for some time completely alone on what sometimes feels like a deserted island.
But that’s all different now. The thought of spending another night alone in this house gives me feelings that I’m not entirely prepared to face.
I don’t want to be alone. I want Victoria here with me.
It’s probably for the best that we’ve got twenty interlopers for the night. I keep catching myself almost saying things I don’t actually know if I want to say.
I mean, my mouth wants to say them.
Stay. Come back to New York with me. I’m catching feelings for you.
But my mind has issued a gag order.
I load up my arms with pans of meat from the cooler we brought with us from The Sands and back through the glass patio doors to where Max is getting the grill ready.
“It’s not often we get to feed a crowd over here,” he says good naturedly, helping me to set the pans down on the wide concrete ledge surrounding the patio.
“I was just thinking the same thing. You know, I bet we haven’t had a party here since Halloween the first year The Sands was open.”
“Usually, it’s just you inviting Petunia and I over for dinner.”
I catch the teasing tone and smile. Of course, Max, our resident old sage, would have figured out exactly what’s going on with me. “Sorry I haven”t reached out this trip. I’ve been a bit tied up.”
Max’s eyebrows raise nearly a foot as he grins at me.
If I was the blushing type, I might just have one right now.
“She’s a lovely woman,” he says simply, apparently deciding not to call out my inadvertent innuendo.
“Yes. It was unexpected.”
“These things usually are.”
I watch him load the hot grills with chicken thighs and consider whether I want to elaborate. I’m not really a feelings sharing kind of person, but it would be foolish to turn down such a great opportunity for advice.
God knows I need it.
“The most unexpected part is how deeply connected I feel to her already. I seem to be growing attached.”
Max looks up at me and cocks his head to the side. He’s no longer grinning, but the amusement is still there. “You say that like it’s a jail sentence.”
I shrug, taking the empty pan and handing him another. “She’s not exactly what I would have imagined for myself. Hell, she’s who I would have imagined for Ains.”
“You’re concerned about the age difference.”
“Yes, of course. And how that age difference brings with it a difference in…I don’t know what to call it. Developmental stage? Season of life? She’s barely old enough to have graduated college, which she didn’t by the way. She’s looking at her possibilities in life for the first time. I’m at the other end of that spectrum, turned back to face her, and it’s hard not to want to offer advice or guidance all the time.”
“Is she coming to you for advice or guidance?”
I laugh. “Oh, no. She’s got it all figured out.”
“But you know better,” Max says, not looking up.
He doesn”t have to. I know just what the old man’s face is doing right now—holding back a smile. “I’ve been around a lot longer and know the pitfalls of certain decisions.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. Well, not the decisions she’s facing, but similar ones. I know what happens when you decide to drop out of college.”
“Because you dropped out of college, and it went poorly for you.” It’s not a question, but it might as well be. My defenses are all online and ready to fire.
“No, you know damn well that’s not what happened. And I see what you’re getting at, but I’ve seen a lot of people in very bad situations, and those situations could have been avoided if they made different decisions in life.”
Max sets the still half-full pan of meat down and turns to face me. “Mr. Adams, you’re lucky you’re not under oath right now.”
I grin and shake my head. Max is a huge fan of courtroom dramas and likes to pull this card.
He goes on. “You can only speak to your own life experiences. And if you’re going to stand there and tell me that the people you defend on a daily basis from charges of fraud, tax evasion, and embezzlement didn’t all graduate from college, I’m going to have to call you a liar. Not one of them makes bad decisions out of a lack of education.”
I cross my arms over my chest and look out over the ocean. The tide is receding, and the gulls are diving into the wet sand, hunting. I don’t want to have this argument. I don’t want to have to defend my values or personal ideals. But I started it, so I guess I don’t have a choice.
“It’s not only about my personal experience. There is data to support?—”
“No, no, no. There’s data to support whatever you decide is correct. You say people must go to college to be successful, I say Bill Gates. You say…” he waits for the answer he knows I’m going to provide.
I sigh. “That’s a special case?—”
Max cuts me off by laughing. “A special case indeed. I say Oprah, you say…”
“Another isolated case of?—”
“You first decide what is true in life, Ben. Then you surround yourself with the evidence of that truth so you don’t have to be wrong. You build the case for your own personal worldview one day at a time. You believe college is necessary for success and a good life, so your world is filled with evidence of that. I believe that happiness is the necessary ingredient for success and a good life, so my world is filled with evidence for that. Who’s right? Who’s wrong?” He throws up his hands in a gesture of exasperated surrender.
I just shake my head. I get what he’s saying, but… “Only one of us would win in court.”
“As long as life is about you winning and everyone else losing, you will always find yourself at an impasse with those around you.”
Well, shit. I definitely should’ve skipped this conversation. The last thing I need right now is another existential crisis on my hands.
Max recognizes my lack of response for the failure that it is and takes pity on me. “I would welcome you to open up your mind to the possibility of other truths. When you encounter the nice woman who makes your coffee, you tip her extra because you feel bad that her life turned out the way it did, am I right?”
I nod, wishing I could run away.
“But there is another truth possible. And that truth is that you would only accept her being happy in her job if she’s working toward a degree to get a better job. She cannot possibly be living a good, happy life unless her goal is to be rich and powerful and successful like you.” Max turns the tongs at me, and I have to take a step back to avoid getting jabbed in the chest. “But you aren’t happy, Ben. Do you see the irony of that?”
God-damn motherfucking shit.
“You know, under New York law, I could probably sue you for such statements.”
Max just laughs and turns his full attention back to the grill, done with me. “You just keep fighting, Mr. Adams. Fight to the death for something you don’t even want.”
I don’t have any response to that, so I’m grateful when Petunia walks up and interrupts. “Ben, you’re looking a little pale. Do you need to lie down?”
I shake my head. “No, your asshole husband just invalidated my entire life. So, I’m processing.”
She laughs. “Yes, he’ll do that.”
“I think I’ll go check on the pool situation, if you two can handle the grill.”
“Of course, dear,” Petunia says, giving my arm a comforting pat.
“We’ll be handing out food to people based on SAT scores,” Max calls after me. I don’t bother to turn and respond to his goading. “So why don’t you get them lined up in order. Highest scores at the front of the line.”
I just shake my head and keep walking, smiling softly to myself.
The man made his point, and it’s not the first time. It’s just, usually when we have this conversation, we’re talking about my son, and I have exactly zero inches of leeway to consider other viewpoints when it comes to Ainsley.
Victoria, however, presents a very interesting conundrum. On the one hand, I think I know what’s best for her. On the other, I obviously don’t know what’s best for her.
My brain is breaking in half.
Could I really live a life with someone who is actively making choices that I disagree with?
When it comes to my son, the answer is no. I’ve made the decisions for him, and I expect him to follow through because I know what’s best.
But with Victoria, she’s an adult. Her own person. She gets to make her own decisions and build her life the way she wants.
But Ainsley is also an adult. And his own person. But he’s also kind of my person.
The last thing I need right now is a complete meltdown, but I feel it coming.
“Hey,” I call to a kid sitting on a lounger next to a cooler. “Pass me one of those.”
The kid—no, not kid. Actually, a fully grown adult man and my employee, cracks a beer and passes it to me with a grin. I pound it and crush the can between my hands in a move I haven’t done since college.
“Hell, yeah, man.” The guy reaches up for a high five.
After an awkward pause where his hand hangs in the air, he returns it to his side and turns back to the bikini clad woman beside him.
I have to draw the line somewhere and apparently high fives are where I’m making my stand.
I shake off the interaction and focus on the cooling, calming feeling of the ice-cold alcohol hitting my system. Then I dive into the pool.
It doesn’t have the refreshing effect I was looking for. The cool water hits me like a splash of reality, banishing the warmth of my comfort zone and forcing me to confront the brisk truth.
I may have lived my entire life incorrectly.
I stay under the water, mourning my wasted years, as long as I possibly can. When I finally surface, I’m gasping for air.
Gasping for my sense of balance and stability to be restored.
Grasping for my usual lifeline of rules and order.
But it’s just not there.
I’m a changed man. I can’t go back to how I used to see the world. I don’t know what this means for me. For my career. For my son. But I do know one thing for sure.
I’m not going to let my own petty rules and ideas about life ruin my chances with this woman. I can see it so clearly now and, while I’m not entirely sure how to fix everything that’s wrong with me, I know how to take the first step forward.
I spin in the water until I find her, sitting on a chaise lounge in the shade, still in her shorts and tank, talking to a group of women I recognize from the fitness center at The Sands. I swim over to the edge of the pool and hang there, watching her.
It doesn”t take long for her to look my way. She smiles at me, and then looks self-consciously around at the other women.
I try not to take it personally. She’s been this way ever since the employees arrived at the house, and I can’t really blame her. We’ve had the whole world to ourselves for weeks. The intrusion is painful.
But it is a little bit odd that she’s so averse to anyone knowing about us spending time together. Not that I feel ready to tell the world, but still. It’s clear from her behavior that she wants to keep us a secret.
I just don’t understand why.
“You ladies coming in for a swim?” I call, cringing at how much of a creeper I sound like.
They’re all looking at me now, wearing familiar smiles. I see them on the faces of women everywhere I go. I know that sounds conceited, and it probably is, but it’s the truth. I’m a very eligible bachelor, and many women out there are trying to catch my eye.
But only one has. And she doesn’t seem interested in anyone knowing about us.
As much as I want to question her about it, this isn”t the time or place. All I can do is respect her choice and follow her lead.
Look at me, learning and growing. I deserve a damn medal.
“I’m about to jump in, make room for me?” one of the women calls back, obviously flirting. I smile at her as politely as I can.
“I think I’m going to stay out,” is the answer from the only woman I care about. “In case someone needs help or something. And lunch is coming up, so I want to help with that.”
I pull myself athletically up the side of the pool and stand dripping on the terra cotta concrete. I can feel every set of female eyes on my body, but I don’t look away from Victoria.
“That’s a good plan. I should get dried off and help too.”
I walk toward the towel caddy and grab myself a fresh, folded, beach towel. As I’m drying my hair, I can hear the chatter from the group of ladies.
“...when he takes that suit off…”
“I’d dry him off…”
I smile to myself at the comments, spoken close enough to me, and in loud enough whispers, that I know they don’t mind being overheard. But the only woman I want to hear isn’t chiming in.
When I glance over, she’s looking down at her phone, not paying attention to the women around her who are tossing glances in my direction.
I’m not typically a self-conscious guy.
But I just had my entire life thrown into disarray by a Caribbean wise guy, so I’m already feeling a bit out of sorts.
I’m so up in my head right now, I know I need to step away, rather than causing problems with Victoria by making a scene. Without another look in her direction, I head back toward the patio where Max is grilling.
“How are you doing?” he calls as I pass him on the way to the patio doors.
“Terrible, thanks,” I call over my shoulder.
I hear him laugh as I enter the house. “Just let it all go,” he calls.
Fat chance of that.