“NOA.” I HEAR MY NAME being yelled from outside, but I can’t move. I’m numb. The refrigerator door holds me up. I crumpled to the floor when I realized Braxton sent my things to me. I don’t remember much after that. “Noa, honey. I’m sorry I’m late. I had to make one stop and get something for our trip. Come see.”

Her voice gets closer as she enters the back door and turns the corner. She stops abruptly as she sees the stack of boxes ripped open, and me sitting on the floor. She takes one step closer and peeks inside, seeing towels and toiletries, and she knows. I look up at her, and she knows what’s happened, and she knows exactly what to do. She tackle hugs me. We both lie on the floor with tears running down our cheeks for my loss.

“I can’t go now,” I murmur lowly.

“Oh, yes you can. Now you have the best reason to go.”

“Surprise!” Monty says as she comes around the corner in white silk peddle pushers and a red cami tank to match. What sets the outfit is the five-inch Manolo Blahnik’s. “I’m coming with you for the girls weekend.”

We both look at Monty and burst out laughing.

“What’s going on? Why are you on the floor? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“I swear I told her we were going to a rodeo to see your friends,” Myla says, holding her hands up in the air for Monty to pull her up. Monty reaches out for her, and grabs her hands but Myla pulls her down to the floor with us.

“Oh, my white pants,” she whines. “I hope this floor is clean.”

“Oh, shut up. You know it is.”

“So why are we pow-wowing on the floor like kindergartners?”

“Noa’s boyfriend sent her shit back to her.”

“Ouch. Harsh. I’m sitting right here, you know.”

“Well, shit or get off the pot, my bestie.” She blows a kiss my way.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Myla’s right, Noa. You did wait a little too long without a word. I’d have sent your stuff back weeks ago.”

“A man that was under my care died. Does that not count for anything?”

“No!” Myla exclaims. “That man was a ticking time bomb, and you know it. It was just a matter of time before God lit his igniter fuse.”

“I can’t go see him now.” I stand up and dust my butt off, then pull Monty up so Myla can stand.

“What?” Monty and Myla ask in unison.

“Now is the perfect time for a girls’ weekend, sister dear. We go and laugh, have a few drinks, enjoy the sun and beach, see the sights, and maybe, just maybe, take in a local rodeo.”

“Exactly,” Myla shakes her head profusely in agreement.

“Now is the time to let him know he didn’t break you. You are in the midst of rising like a phoenix from the ashes.” She raises her arms high in the air like a bird in flight, drama queen that she is, as Myla and I start laughing again at her antics.

“How am I ever supposed to be sad over a break up when I  have you two clowns around? No wonder I can’t learn my lessons.”

“Oh, the sadness comes at night when you are crying yourself to sleep,” Monty says, and we both stop to look at her. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her admit to crying over a man.

“Well, don’t look at me. Men don’t break up with me. I’m Montgomery Knight.” She shrugs her shoulders and walks to the back door. “Now, come on bitches. We’re late. And besides, Noa— I’ve already put your bags in the trunk. Let’s go.” She claps her hands at us and walks out the door swishing her long, strawberry blond ponytail.

“You heard the drama Queen, let’s go,” Myla claps her hands at me too. “Chop Chop. Faster Pussycat.” And she pushes me out the door, twisting the lock as we leave.

****

SIX HOURS LATER WE roll into the Monterey Tides and check-in to our suite. I love this hotel. It’s charming at its California best and holds some of our fondest memories from childhood. I’m glad Monty and I are here again.  My favorite part is the S’more bonfire. They offer kits to make your own on their back deck at sunset; it’s cool, even still at thirty-six years old.

“What do you ladies want to do tonight, since it’s almost dinner time?”

“I’m really tired from driving,” Myla yawns and stretches her legs before plopping on her bed. “Maybe we should keep it low-key tonight. Order room service and have a few drinks downstairs.”

“I like that idea,” Monty agrees. “I’m going to go for a swim first. Anyone care to join me?”

“Yeah, I could go for the hot tub.” I zip open my bag and rifle through it for my bikini. Within minutes, we are all soaking in relaxing water from the long drive through the mountains. Myla orders the first of many rounds of drinks, and thus it starts. The laughter, relaxation, and good times with my girls.

“This is fun. It’s so much better than staying at home and crying.” I’m the only one in the hot tub, so I’m being very uncouth and stretching my legs out to take up the whole area. Myla bailed on me in search of the slightly cooler pool water.

We are alone on the pool deck, and Monty loves it that way.  It’s overcast here today, so there isn’t anyone to gawk at her and secretly try to take her picture.  I have a newfound respect for her and hiding from the media.

It’s disturbing knowing that random people want to know very personal details about your life. Things that you don’t always have control over. The one thing  I learned from the Wes event is that most people will believe anything that the media says. They twist it around to fulfill the hungry brains of their audience, no matter if it’s the truth or not.

In my mind, the only feel good part of the story is that I tried my best to save my patient, and in the end, it wasn’t enough. Could I have done something better or different? Yes. I was trying to be his friend and consider his quality of life throughout his treatment. Instead, I should have done what was better for his health overall and left my personal feelings out of the situation. I won’t make that mistake again.

Some news agencies twisted the back story of Wes and me so viciously; I couldn’t even begin to find any truth in it.

I did what my mother said was best, and let it ride without any acknowledgment from me.  She predicted it would eventually die, and they would move on to the next scandal. In true Marlena Knight style, she was right.

My mom may be a bulldog when it comes to the Hollywood circle of the media, but I felt her love for me behind the ‘Mom-ager’ walls she’s built up. I think it made her happy to be saving the other daughter for once. I know she was relieved when the media moved on with little to no coverage affecting Monty.

I stretch my legs and arms out even further across the hot tub, touching all of the edges with my hands and feet forming a star. I look up at the heavens, finally noticing the sun has set, and the stars are beginning to appear. A shooting star flies across the night sky. “Oh, look,” I say pointing.  Monty, who sees it too,  winks at me, and we both begin to chant:

“Star light, Star bright

The first star I see tonight

I wish I may; I wish I might

Have the wish I wish tonight.”

I close my eyes and make my wish If it’s meant to be, I wish it to happen to me.

“Well, I don’t know about you ladies, but I wished for food. Let’s eat,” Myla announces. She stands and stumbles her way out of the pool, holding her glass of red wine high as she walks, fighting the pool current.

As we are relaxing in our room, freshly showered and waiting for our room service meals to be delivered, Myla is texting someone furiously and smiling the whole time. Monty has her laptop open, giggling with someone on SnapChat with filters, and here I sit— alone. No one to text or laugh with.  How did my life get to this disappointing scenario?

“Are you a work-a-holic? Are you stressed out with little to no joy in your life? Does it feel like your life is falling apart and you have no control over it? Meet Angela Kingston. She’s a certified Life Coach who’s dedicated her life to getting yours on track.” A commercial blares on the TV, and I reach for the remote to turn it up.

“You don’t need that,” Monty throws a pillow at me.

“I feel like I do. Now shush so I can hear the commercial.”

“Call now for your free one-hour consultation, and if you call within the next fifteen minutes, you’ll receive a copy of Angela’s best-selling book ‘How to Adult.’ It’s loaded with over five hundred proven techniques for improving your finances, relationships, and career, plus so much more.” 

I reach for my phone and both Myla and Monty dive-bomb after it. Myla gets to it first, and they play keep-away with it, tossing it back and forth. I give up and sit back down on the bed. “Okay. Okay. I get it. Maybe I don’t need a Life Coach.”

“Get the book on your own if you need insight. You don’t need to waste your money on her sales pitch,” Monty advises sternly.

“You need to close the loop with Braxton. You’re standing on the edge of a gaping hole in your circle with no idea how to close it. Talking to him will close it. Making a plan to move on will close it. You both need peace, so like I told you the other day— shit or get off the pot.”

“Gross, Myla. You’re so vulgar at times,” Monty chastises her.

“Hey, it’s my best analogy for getting people to take action. It may be gross but it’s real and to the point. Does ‘fish or cut bait’ drive the point home better? Nope!”

“Alright. We’ll go to the damn rodeo on Saturday night. That’s the best night anyway. They buckle the bull rider winner’s that night.”

There’s a knock at the door. “Room Service.”

“It’s about damn time. My stomach was beginning to shrivel like a grape.”

After our late dinner, I see an abandoned bonfire down on the beach and announce that I’m going for a walk. I grab a chair from the pool area and set it down by the fire.

I don’t know what to say to Braxton about leaving the way I did. I guess it was easier to blame my parents for sending the attorney, and go along with everything on it’s fast pace to being fixed than wait around with uncertainty hanging in the air. I was also too hungover to care.

At the time, I wanted the whole mess to go away. Most people don’t have one of the worst moments of their lives immortalized on the internet for a few billion people to see. I was mortified, sad, angry, and felt powerless. I was just overwhelmed, and when I needed the out, I took the fast route. Yeah, hindsight is twenty/twenty. How do I explain that to Braxton?

The tables are turned on me. I won’t be the listener, but the one spilling my innermost secrets.  All of my insecure demons are swirling around in my subconscious closet pounding on the door to get out.  I want him to know everything inside me, but I’m afraid if I crack it open, they’ll all come flooding out to scare him away.

I sit alone in the semi-darkness of the bonfire trying to come up with a plan for making things right with Brax. I’ve thought of a hundred different ways to do this since we first set this trip in motion, but none of them satisfies my mind. I keep expecting the clouds to roll back and all the stars to align to show me the way. Maybe there isn’t a clear path for us.

They say if things were easy, everyone would be living the high life. My life’s been so easy up until now. Is this my test?

“What are you doing?” Monty spreads out a beach towel next to me, and sits down.

“I’m trying to order the chaos in my mind.”

“No, don’t do that. Our minds are full of things our hearts don’t understand. That is the beauty of chaos. When the mind understands the heart, the world becomes less interesting.”

“Wow, such deep, thought-provoking words from a Hollywood A-lister. And here I thought you were nothing but a pretty package filled with random, meaningless lines from a script.” She throws sand at my feet as a punishment. She knows I don’t like sand.

“You know, the hardest part about this whole mess is watching you drown, and not being able to convince you that you can save yourself by simply standing up.” She starts doodling her name in the hot ashes and sand with a twig.

“My legs are too weak to stand.”

“Bullshit. Noa, you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve always had your life together, while I flounder around and let everyone save me. Don’t run away from the fire that is threatening you. Be the damn fire, and blaze like an inferno for what you want.”

“But fires destroy, and that’s what I’ve done.”

“Damn, Noa. Fires also provide warmth on a cold night, and heat to cook food when you’re hungry. It also provides nourishment to the vegetation and small animal life with the ashes it creates. Find the positive perspective.  You’re drowning in self-doubt, Noa. Fucking stand up.”

She stands and shakes out her towel, flinging sand at me in her anger, before stalking off. The fire crackles and hisses as more embers burn. I sit and watch the flames consume another log, mesmerized as it burns and the ash slowly creeps up the log.

She’s right. I need to either be the fire or be consumed by it.