Chapter Thirty-One
Living like this was going to spoil me. I looked out over the Clairborne’s pool, then down to my lap where I held in my hand Porter’s thoughtfulness. He had ordered a book about epigenetics and had it overnighted. It’s the study of changes in gene expression versus changes to the underlying DNA sequence. Truly fascinating, unlike the cheesy romance novel. What was more fascinating than knowing what I ate today could affect my grandchildren? Assuming I ever had any. I had a feeling the woman next to me was hoping I would bear her some.
I looked to my right where Natalie the Spanish goddess was basking in the sun without a drop of sunscreen on her in a black bikini, no less. I, on the other hand, had been drenched in sunscreen, and I was in cutoffs and a tank top. Porter had done the honor of slathering me in SPF 50 before heading into the house for another set of conference calls with the Bristol. He was also making some calls to businesses and organizations in the southeastern area in hopes of convincing them to hold events and retreats at the Clairborne. In between he was working on graphics. I wanted to help, but it was woefully out of my capabilities. If he wanted a PowerPoint presentation I was his girl, but I knew minimal HTML and I couldn’t design myself out of a box.
Not that I didn’t plan to get involved. I was only making sure Porter was preoccupied before I spoke to Natalie.
Natalie grinned over at me once Porter was well inside. “You two are getting cozy.”
I tucked some hair behind my ear. “Not as cozy as you think.”
She laughed out into the beautiful sunny day. “Ignore my husband. I know you two aren’t sleeping together.”
“How?”
“Because, honey, you are too smart. You know better than to share yourself in that way until the other pieces fall into place. Until you’re sure exactly where your and Porter’s hearts lie. Too many people think that sex is the glue that holds a relationship together. Sex isn’t the glue, it’s a piece of the relationship, and the more secure the other pieces are, the better the sex, not vice versa. If you are expecting sex to fix or make all the other pieces come together, your relationship will eventually crumble.”
I nodded, agreeing with her. I had seen too many roommates do exactly that. It caused a lot of heartache, even depression. I may not know a lot about love and relationships, but even from a biological standpoint I knew the power of sex. I always felt a force so strong should be wielded carefully. But I didn’t want to talk about sex with Natalie.
I leaned toward her in a conspiratorial fashion. “I have an idea.”
I swore I could see her eyes light up through her sunglasses. “Do tell.”
“Remember how I told you about Porter’s Fall in Love at the Clairborne campaign?”
“I absolutely love it.”
“Well, there’s a little more to it.”
She arched her perfectly shaped eyebrows.
“Porter is hoping by next week he can send an email out to previous guests and those who were married here to submit their Clairborne love stories. He has this whole campaign mapped out. Everything from video montages on all the Clairborne social media sites, including the new website he’s working on. And he wants to do weekly email campaigns featuring the couples he chooses.”
Natalie put her hands to her mouth. “He’s brilliant. Did he say what Beau thought about it?”
I hated to dash the hope in her voice. “The thing is,” my eyes squinted, and not because of the sun, “Mr. Clairborne is a bit reluctant, but he did agree on who should be the first couple that’s featured.”
She was trying to bite back a retort against her husband. “I thought you said Porter hadn’t sent out an email yet.”
“He hasn’t. He wants him and me to be the first couple.”
Natalie popped up. “Yes! Like I said, brilliant.”
I wasn’t going to disagree with her there. “I think it’s a sweet idea, except I do worry about how our story will play out, and I’m not all that fond of having parts of our dates filmed. And the excessive number of pictures he likes to take.”
She reached out and took my hand. “You are a beautiful woman and together you make a stunning couple.”
“I don’t even know if we are a couple.”
She lowered her shades, revealing her knowing brown eyes. “You don’t think so?”
“That brings me to my idea. I want Porter and me to have the opportunity to see where this goes. I think our best chance would be if he still lived here. Not that we couldn’t have a long-distance relationship, but it does make things more difficult. And we’ve been apart for so long already.”
“Believe me honey, no one wants him home more than me. Tell me your idea.”
I pressed my lips together. “I was thinking you and Mr. Clairborne should be the first couple featured.”
“What?” She waved her hand as if she was batting away the idea. “We’re too old for that sort of thing.”
She needed to look in the mirror. Mr. and Mrs. Clairborne were probably the most gorgeous couple I’d ever seen.
“No, you’re not. And don’t you see how perfect it would be? Not only do you and Mr. Clairborne have a beautiful love story that began here, but Porter is intertwined in your story. And if he could remember that and see that he still is, maybe he would stay.”
She removed her glasses and wiped away the tears trickling down her flawless cheeks. “Forget what I said about Porter being brilliant. You, love, are a mastermind and the best thing that’s happened to our family in a long, long time.”
“I don’t know about that, but the feeling is mutual. This past week has made me realize what’s been missing in my life, and I don’t want to miss any more than I have to.”
“Don’t worry, honey, I’m not going to let that happen. We’re going to knock some sense into these men whether they like it or not.” She stood up. “You ready to get to work?”
I was ready for my life to be more than just about my work.
~*~
Natalie and I came up with a plan that included trips down memory lane, a boating trip Sunday after church Easter services, family game night, and anything else we could think of to throw Mr. Clairborne and Porter together.
We were starting with the trip down memory lane. I spent the day with Natalie going through old pictures and photo albums when Porter was younger and when Mr. and Mrs. Clairborne got married. Porter graced almost every photo and, more often than not, his little hand was always in Natalie’s. Natalie’s eyes watered a lot through the day.
We had to play it cool since Natalie wasn’t supposed to know Porter was helping the resort. So Natalie by “happenstance” asked me to help her make some scrapbooks, though that meant dismantling some that were already made. I hated seeing her undo her work, but these Clairborne men were stubborn. They were about to find out the women in their lives were more so.
Our scrapbooking endeavor “conveniently” took up the entirety of their kitchen table. And we were so involved in our project, making dinner happened to slip Natalie’s mind.
Porter, who had been in his room most of the day and only came out for lunch before the table was covered with his past, looked a little worn when he strolled into the kitchen. His tired eyes widened, then narrowed at the sight before him.
I tried to behave nonchalantly and not draw attention to what we were doing. “Hey, are you done for the day?”
Natalie flashed me a secret smile saying nice job.
Porter approached and stole a kiss, ignoring my inquiry. “What are you up to?” He scanned the piles of photos, pattern paper, and a myriad of craft supplies I had no name for. This wasn’t really my thing.
Natalie answered for me. “Holland is such a doll; she offered to help me with the project I’ve been meaning to get to for ages.”
Ooh she was good.
I gave Porter an innocent smile. “You were the cutest little boy.”
“Uh-huh.” Porter didn’t seem to be buying it.
“Yes, he was.” Natalie stood up and pinched his cheek. “He still is. Can I get you some sweet tea, mijo?”
“I’m good, thank you.” He was gazing between Natalie and me suspiciously. “Do you want me to make dinner? I would hate to interrupt scrapbook club.” Porter smirked at me.
“You’re sweet, but I asked your dad to bring home something from work. He should be home any minute now. Charlotte’s hanging out with Jax, so she’ll be home later.”
Jax was Charlotte’s prom date. They were shopping for a suit together because, not surprisingly, Charlotte was picky about how they were going to look as a couple.
“You can take my seat next to Holland.” Natalie directed her son before she headed into the kitchen.
Porter dropped into the seat next to me. That smirk was still playing on his face. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re playing at,” he whispered.
“I’m not playing.” And I wasn’t.
His smirk was replaced with a look of understanding. He tugged on a strand of my hair. “I did not forget the promise I made to you last night.”
“I know. I’m just helping you along in the process.”
“I see you recruited help.”
I leaned into him so I could speak low in his ear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was a happy coincidence.”
He shook his head and chuckled. “You are a terrible liar, Holland Reeves.”
“Are you questioning my integrity?”
He kissed my nose. “I’m thanking my lucky stars that you’re a fighter.”
I wanted to experiment with him right then and there, but his dad walked in bearing bags of delicious smelling food from Kouzína Anatolia’s. If I kept eating like this, I might actually fill out my clothes.
Once Mr. Clairborne set the bags of food on the counter in the midst of all the flowers, he took his wife up in his arms and greeted her with a kiss. “I missed you today.”
I almost whispered to Porter, See how much they are still in love? You have to tell their story. Instead, I watched him watch his parents. I didn’t have to tell him a thing.
Natalie barely reciprocated his greeting. She took him by the hand and led him to the table. “Come and see what Holland and I are working on. She’s helping me organize and update some of our old photo albums.”
She picked up a photo from the table. It was no accident which photo she chose. She was hoping to get maximum effect from the start. A catalyst, you might say. Like lighting a match when hydrogen gas and oxygen gas were present causing an explosion. We were both hoping to create an emotional explosion.
Natalie was smart and didn’t make any eye contact with me when she handed her husband the photo of five-year-old Porter.
I watched with bated breath as he took it and carefully looked it over. His mouth twitched in an upward direction. His blue eyes were mesmerized. He held the photo up and examined it closer. A wistful gaze filled his features. “You loved that book and bear. You took them everywhere with you.” He lowered the picture and handed the picture to his son. “Do you remember?”
Porter was taken aback by the gesture and the soft tones coming from his dad. The combination caused him to not reach for the photo immediately. But I swore it was like Mr. Clairborne’s eyes begged him to. Porter did take the picture and held it so both he and I could see it.
“The first time I met you, you had both.” Natalie reminisced.
Porter stared intently at his younger self. His thick hair was lighter, more of a sandy brown. He was sun-kissed and in swim trunks out on the beach. He clung to the tattered brown bear and the picture book with bears on the cover.
“I don’t remember these,” he said to himself. But you could tell he longed to.
“You insisted I read that book every night to you before you went to bed,” Mr. Clairborne smiled.
Natalie moved next to him and brushed her hand through his hair. “I had to tape the pages together, it had become so worn.”
Porter still continued to stare at the photo. “You said the first time you met me I had them. When was that?”
Mr. and Mrs. Clairborne took the seats across from us, forgetting the delicious aroma that filled the room and that there was food to be eaten. They gave their full attention to their son.
Natalie sighed. “You were upset and you had run away from your father.”
Mr. Clairborne wore the look of panic he must have felt in that moment so long ago. “It was when we were living at the hotel, your . . . uh . . . mother . . .” A good dose of vitriol wove through his words when he referred to his ex-wife and Porter’s biological mother. “Anyway, it was only the two of us and I turned my back for one minute to answer a question and you were gone. I had every staff member looking for you. I don’t think I had ever been so scared in my life.”
Natalie placed her hand over her husband’s hand on the table. “You had made your way to the spa. We were closing up and I heard this whimper under the check-in desk. There you were holding on to your teddy bear, crying. You refused to come out.” She smiled at the memory. “I recognized who you were so I sent one of my coworkers to find your dad while I crawled under the desk with you. Without a second thought, you snuggled right up next to me and asked me to read to you.”
I glanced at Porter to gauge his reaction. He was looking thoughtfully at his parents, trying to remember. Mr. Clairborne looked at him as if he hoped he would remember.
Natalie was all alight reminiscing. “Before I finished the book, your dad found us, but you refused to leave until I said the end.”
Mr. Clairborne shook his head and even smiled. “From then on out I could hardly keep you from sneaking away to the spa to find your Natty.”
“I think I remember calling you that now.” Porter grinned.
“I was quite fond of the nickname.” Natalie returned her son’s smile. “And your visits. I started keeping cookies for you in one of the desk drawers.”
Mr. Clairborne took his wife’s hand. “Well that explains it.”
Porter cocked his head. “Were they Mexican wedding cookies?”
“You remember.” Natalie was pleased. “I think I made a batch of those every week for three months. Especially when you started showing up every day.”
“Yes, he became quite the escape artist,” Mr. Clairborne added. “After a while I didn’t mind though.” He held up his wife’s hand and kissed it. “It meant I got to see your beautiful face every day.”
Natalie blushed.
“I should’ve taken my son’s advice and asked you out earlier.”
“My advice?” Porter questioned.
“Every night before I would tuck you in you would tell me that you wanted Natty to be your new mommy.”
Porter leaned back, astonished. I rested my hand on his thigh. His leg bounced nervously. This was obviously something he had forgotten.
“And it still took you how many months to ask me out?” Natalie teased her husband.
“As I remember, I think you were more keen on being with Porter than me.” Mr. Clairborne stated.
“He made a much better first impression than you.” She tapped her husband’s nose.
Mr. Clairborne’s cheeks reddened to my surprise. “Hey now, we promised to never discuss that.” He cleared his throat while his eyes implored his wife not to not say a word.
Porter and I looked between each other wondering what the story was.
Natalie gave her husband an impish grin. “Your secret is safe with me.” I guess we would never know. She focused back on Porter and gave him a wink. “You were and still are much cuter than your father was. Not to mention less brooding.”
Porter smiled and placed his hand over mine. His thumb ran over my hand while he took this all in.
“I don’t brood.” Mr. Clairborne defended himself.
Natalie laughed at her husband while she playfully patted his cheeks. “Sure, you don’t.”
Porter and I both laughed along with her.
“Regardless,” Mr. Clairborne said, “marrying you was the best thing I ever did.”
Natalie agreed with him and plucked another picture from the pile. She showed it to her husband, making him grin, before handing it over to Porter and me.
This time Porter took the photo eagerly. We both stared at the loveliest couple ever getting married on the beach at sunset with the cutest little boy between them holding his new mommy’s hand.
“Do you remember that day?” Natalie almost seemed afraid to ask.
Porter touched his little self in the picture and nodded.
Natalie choked up. “I don’t think you let go of my hand that entire night. You ended up going on our honeymoon with us.”
“He did?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.
Natalie nodded fondly while Mr. Clairborne half grimaced, half smiled. He obviously wasn’t a proponent of it.
“I couldn’t bear to leave him.” Natalie spoke directly to Porter.
I think what she really meant to say was, I can’t bear it if you leave again.