Chapter Thirty-Four
The days were fleeting. Maybe the latest physics theories about time were right. Time wasn’t a building block of our universe, it was only an illusion. One thing I knew wasn’t an illusion, and that was my feelings for Porter and his family.
Every night that week some family activity was planned. Mr. Clairborne was doing his best to separate family and business, like Natalie had suggested. The disagreements during the day about marketing initiatives and campaigns were left at the Clairborne. At home, it was nights full of board and card games. Trivial Pursuit was my favorite, but I won too quickly and the game was over in less than a half hour. It would have been sooner, but the dice were not my friend. After games, we would all swim in the pool or relax in their hot tub. Work was never spoken of during those times, but an underlying current of uncertainty played in the background. Despite all that, I’d never felt more loved or like I belonged. Oddly, I found myself not as eager to return to the lab as I thought I would be.
My favorite times during the week came when Porter would sneak away from his work and come find Natalie and me. He had a list of questions for his mom too. Questions like, where did you and Dad go on your first date? When and where did Dad propose? Natalie was thrilled to tell him every little detail, and I noticed how she made sure to include him where she could. Porter was actually part of the proposal. Mr. Clairborne had a shirt made that said, Will you marry my daddy? Natalie had kept the shirt and brought it out for us to see. And there were pictures, lots of them. Porter was obviously doing more than thinking about using his parents as the first couple for his campaign. Not that he still wasn’t taking pictures of us together.
Late Tuesday night after everyone went to bed, he filmed us finishing the list of questions. We sat on the middle of his bed; he even lit candles for mood lighting. The mute button was off, which I found odd, but he said it was the emotion he wanted to capture. They were questions that involved most embarrassing moments, biggest regrets, and expectations about everything from the kind of wedding I would want to sex. Tears and laughter filled his room while we talked about when he was six and jumped into a pool at a friend’s birthday party and his swim trunks came up beside him, not on him. I had too many embarrassing moments to recall which was the “most,” but shouting out how much I liked tacos before the first time he kissed me ranked right up there. For him, that was one of his best moments. He said he knew then I was the girl for him. Porter, not surprisingly, wanted a beach wedding, and I wasn’t sure. Definitely something simple. These were not things I thought about.
“You know, if we ever did get married, it would be a small and very inexpensive wedding, right?” I asked him. Money and friends were something I lacked.
He brushed my lips. “As long as you’re there, that’s all that matters. But don’t you know if you wanted the most lavish wedding, I would give it to you?”
I believed he would, though that wasn’t me. And I couldn’t believe we were talking about such things.
Natalie and I had our own discussions when we were alone. They all centered around what we thought would happen. She was encouraging Mr. Clairborne to offer Porter a job. He said he was working on it, but each day it never came. And each day Porter worked furiously to accommodate his dad’s wishes. Everything from changing the wording five times on the email they sent out to previous guests to the header for the new website. Mr. Clairborne wasn’t fond of the couple in the hammock. I loved the couple in the hammock. I wanted to be that couple.
My chance came Thursday afternoon. Natalie took me to the spa for massages, facials, and pedicures. All things I had never experienced before, at least not at the hands of a professional. I had a roommate once who loved to give pedicures, but after she gave me one I worried she had a foot fetish. She had been a little too thorough.
Natalie had ulterior motives. Porter and Mr. Clairborne were having meetings all afternoon and we were all a little on edge to see what would happen. She thought the spa would be a great way to pass the time. All Mr. Clairborne would tell Natalie was that he had come up with a solution. What did that mean?
While Natalie and I were soaking our feet in the jetted tubs, I took the opportunity to thank her. No matter what happened with Porter, I had to go back to my real life. Not this fantasy one of living at a resort.
“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. This past week and a half has been the best time of my life. And I’ve loved getting to know you and your family better.”
Natalie teared up and reached for my hand. I gladly gave it to her. “It is I that should thank you. You have no idea what you’ve done for our family. I love you, mi hija.”
I burst into tears right there in the middle of the spa. No one had ever called me daughter. And certainly no mother had ever told me that she loved me.
“I love you, too.” It came out so easy. And I did love her. What a freeing thing that was to say to somebody and mean it.
There we both sat letting our nasolacrimal ducts take over our eyes. Lacrimal fluid streamed down our cheeks, yet we each wore smiles.
“Promise me you will come to visit often no matter if Porter is here or not, and you’ll call me if you ever need anything,” Natalie choked out.
I nodded, unable to speak. I knew I would. I no longer wanted a life without love, without the Clairbornes.
While our painted toes were under the drying table, Porter walked in. He wore his dress shirt and pants well and walked with the poise of a self-assured man, though his face said otherwise. His chiseled jaw line was tight and his tanned face was tinted red. Natalie and I looked at each other. We both knew their meeting had not gone as we had hoped.
Porter was to us in a few strides. He immediately kissed me as if it would counteract how upset he obviously was. I didn’t think it helped.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to Holland.”
“Of course, mijo,” Natalie responded. “I think I have someone to talk to as well.” We all knew she meant Mr. Clairborne.
Neither Porter nor I said a word to her as she got up and stomped off.
Porter helped me stand. “Is your ankle up for a walk?”
I nodded. My ankle was much better now. The swelling was all but gone and the bruising was much less noticeable.
He took my hand and held on to it as if I was the sodium to his chloride. We walked through the hotel in silence. We didn’t even utter hellos to Alise and Fiona when we saw them, only waves of greeting. Porter was determined to get out of the Clairborne as quick as he could. As soon as we hit the beach, Porter was kicking off his shoes and socks. I took off the flip flops given to me at the spa after my pedicure as well. Porter was rolling up his pants and buttoning down his white shirt. Some animal instinct arose inside of me wanting to rip his shirt the rest of the way off, but I controlled my urge. Anger was rolling off Porter, but I could tell he was doing his best not to let it manifest.
“What can I do?” I took his hand.
“Walk with me.”
The silence continued as we walked toward his parents’ bungalow, but I knew that wasn’t our destination. We skirted the edge of the shoreline, letting the water wash over our feet. It was cool but not uncomfortable. I watched it calm Porter. The red bled out of his cheeks with each step and breath. My heart raced as we walked toward our destination. I knew decisions were about to be made. Not only that, they would be made in our place. I wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing it after all these years. Would it hold the sting of the night Porter left or the love expressed there, whether it was verbal or not?
Porter led us past the bungalow to the path hidden by the beachgrass. It looked as if it had been recently used. We walked over the dunes and there it was. Our hammock between palm trees. The trees had grown and the beachgrass had gotten longer in my absence, but the feeling was the same. This was our place. I stopped and Porter did the same just ahead of me.
Porter looked back. “We don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
Porter swept me up into his arms. I rested my head against his shoulder as he carried me the rest of the way. With every ounce of tenderness he possessed, he set me down on the hammock.
I ran my hand over the netted fibers. “It’s new.”
He took off his shirt before joining me on the hammock. “I had it replaced last week.”
“I like it.” It was wider and sturdier. That came in handy.
Porter lay down and opened his arms, inviting me to join him. He didn’t have to ask me twice. I snuggled up against him, allowing my hand to fall among the hair on his chest. He pulled me tighter and more toward him until our lips almost met.
“I love you,” he whispered before his lips showed me how much. Each of our limbs tangled together as our tongues did the same. He was devouring me like I was his last meal. Like the last kiss we shared here.
I pulled away abruptly, gasping, holding back my tears. “You’re saying goodbye, aren’t you?”
“No, no.” His hold went from that of a hungry lover to a man in love. He cupped my face. “Holland, I meant what I said all those years ago. There won’t be an end to us. I’ve spent too many years away from you; I don’t intend to spend any more.”
“You’re not leaving? Then what’s wrong?”
Porter lay back and looked up to watch the palm leaves sway in the breeze. “My dad offered me a job today.”
I didn’t have to ask; I knew by his tone it wasn’t what he’d hoped for.
“He’s decided not to renew his contract with the marketing firm out of Atlanta. He ran the numbers, and he could hire two in-house people and still save money.”
“Two people?”
“A marketing director and an assistant.”
I was confused as to why Porter was upset. “He’s going to make you the marketing director?”
“No,” he scoffed. “I’ll be the assistant.”
I sat up. “What?”
Porter closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “He says I need to earn my dues. He’s not sure he can trust me to handle such an important job yet. Says I need to learn a few more things about the real world.” Porter shook his head, a mirthless laugh escaped. “I hold a director position already and make a lot more money than he’s offering, mind you. But it’s not about the money. I expected to make less, considering the circumstances.”
“Porter.” I took up his hand and held it against my heart.
Tears filled his eyes. “Why is it that executives at the Bristol, a resort three times the size of the Clairborne, have been nothing but impressed with my work? They’ve trusted me even when they might have disagreed with some of my decisions. They’ve praised me when they recognized the results from those risks. Why can’t my own father? He’s questioned everything I’ve done for him since I’ve been here, even though he asked me for my help.”
My heart ached for him, for us. I fell back against him and held him as close as I could. I knew what I had to do and it was going to break my heart. But I realized when you love someone, their heart becomes more important than your own. And I did love him. I had never stopped, but I had never allowed myself to admit it until then. History was about to repeat itself, but this time I was going to get the opportunity I’d missed out on almost eight years ago. I was going to be brave.
“Porter . . . You can’t take this job.”
He turned his head. Our eyes locked. “Holland, I’m not leaving you. I can deal with the job if it means I’ll be close to you.”
I pressed my lips against his, tears running down my cheeks. I could taste the salt. “I love you,” I whispered against his mouth.
He only leaned away so he could look at me. Those words had a magical effect. The darkness dissipated from his eyes. “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“That’s all that matters then,” he said through a smile.
I outlined his face with my finger. “You know that’s not true. Porter, I’ll love you no matter where you are. I want you to be happy. And we both know working for your dad will only suffocate you again. I can’t let you do that to yourself, to us.”
“But—” he interrupted.
I shook my head. “You were right. It doesn’t matter where we live; we can be together. We’ll see each other when we can. I’ll get to take my first trip on a plane.” I grinned. “And we can call each other every day.”
He searched my eyes and thought, and thought some more. “Are you sure? All you have to do is say the word and I’ll stay.”
“I know.” My lips captured his and didn’t let go until the early morning hours.
Life had handed us a second chance to leave Paradise the way we should have the first time—together, but apart.