His Wounded Light (7 page)

“No, I haven’t.”

“Listen, dude, it’s going to show up here soon.”

“Yeah, but she’s going to think it’s just one like the others I’ve purchased.”

“She’s not an idiot. Her father was into those things. She’ll know.”

“Bro, she’s been really worried about stuff lately. I don’t want to freak her out. I’ve been asking for this for the past five years and it’s always been a no.”

“Worried about what? In what way?”

“I don’t know. Somehow I think it’s related to losing her mom and how she’s really allowed herself to depend on me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. In fact, I take pleasure in it.” I wink at him and he laughs.

“Do you think all husbands are as lucky as we are?” he muses. “I mean, twelve years later we’re still going at it like rabbits.”

“Don’t question it, dude. All good.” I snicker and he gives me a high five. “The dickhead in Paris finally shipped the steering wheel I ordered months ago. Wanna check it out?”

My garage isn’t your typical storage port and the cars in it aren’t your typical cars. Leigh has one just like it and we’ve shared our love for these beautiful machines for years. The space is clean and organized, painted white with plexiglass shelves strategically mounted on the walls. There’s a direct pipe in from the home sound system and a sitting area with a huge flat screen television. A small, sleek bar completes my man cave. Isa’s taste in design is impressive. She worked with the architect to get this all set up for me and it couldn’t be more perfect.

Leigh walks around the cars, surveying each one. I don’t know why the dude does this every single time we’re in here when he’s seen these cars so often. Every time either one of us receives a shipment, we’re there to check things out for each other.

“Hmm,” he sighs, “I can never tire of looking at these babies. Which one did you take out to the beach house a few weeks ago?”

Okay, I guess I have to tell you what Leigh is salivating over. We have a seven-car garage with six cars in it. In all humility, I will say that I consider myself very lucky to be blessed with the ability to have these cars. He’s specifically feeling up a red Bugatti Veyron Super Sport, but next to it is a Lamborghini Aventador, which sleeps beside a Lamborghini Sesto Elemento, which cuddles with a Rolls Royce Phantom. Our everyday cars are more modest; Isa rides in an Audi Q7 and I drive a Range Rover.

“I took the Lambo Av with Isa. She looks good in that car.”

“You’re so whipped, man, it’s unreal.”

“And you’re not?”

“Shut up. We really shouldn’t be advertising that. Most of the deals you cut are based on your good looks, Ailey.”

“Fuck you.”

“Tell her, man. I can keep it in my garage for as long as you need, but you have to tell her.”

I’m done talking about it for now. “I will, man. I will. I’ll have to find the perfect time to tell her; leave that up to me. For now, let’s head back inside and get our asses next to those women. Lord knows what they’re up to in there.”

We walk back to the patio and Leigh starts playing with the kids, who are now running around the garden. Isa and I had the pool gated for Maddy who’s sitting in her walker with her bare feet on the grass while the older kids are running around her.

I scoop her up and she giggles and kicks her legs as I carry her in my arms to chase the others down. Leigh, Mike and Eddie end up throwing a football around, so I go inside to check on the girls. I enter through the sliding doors and look around for Isa. I find them settled on the white leather couches in the living room, each one savoring a glass of red wine. I round the corner to call out her name, but pause for a moment when I hear the serious tone of their conversation.

“So they’re still happening? Those dreams?” Betty whispers.

“Yes. I had another one while we were in Paris,” she hushes as she turns her head to scan around the room to make sure that no one is listening.

“Is it always exactly the same?” Betty tips her head closer to her friend as she rests her hand on Isabel’s arm.

“It varies at times, but the gist is similar. It’s my mother all dressed in white in this immaculate stone house overlooking the sea. It reminds me of the Aegean Sea in the Mediterranean because the blueness of the water is so stark. She looks so happy; she’s smiling and angelic and serene and her face is as young as she was when I was just a girl.”

“What does she say? Does she do anything?” Betty asks, rapt with the need to know.

“Well, she just stands there while a breeze gently whips her hair and her gown,” she continues.

“I’m envisioning a music video right now,” Betty comments and they both laugh stiffly. “And then what?”

There is a lingering silence between the two of them before Isa moves closer to her friend and leans her head on her shoulder.

“And then out of nowhere, Alex is there sitting on that same balcony swinging his legs. He’s joyous and childlike, sitting there smiling briefly before reaching his hand out to me. And then that’s it. He’s gone.” Her disposition changes immediately. Her face grows pale and she looks at Betty with woeful eyes.

“So what happened in Paris after you woke up?” Betty rubs her arm and urges her to divulge more details.

“That morning, I woke up with a jolt. I freaked out when I felt for him next to me and he wasn’t there. His pillow was still freshly indented, so I knew that he couldn’t have been gone for too long. Turns out he just went for a run.”

“Isa, maybe you’re just overthinking things. You just miss your mother and Alex is such an important part of your life. You’re probably just associating the two of them together in your subconscious,” Betty persists, beginning to sound desperate to allay her friend’s concerns. “I don’t know what to make of them. I’m afraid my mother is trying to tell me something. Since I lost her, what if she’s trying to warn me about losing him too? I’m so happy with my life right now; it’s not like there’s some deep seated anger or hurt about anything. Sometimes I get upset that I’m so clingy. I want him with me all the time. I wait for him at night, I need to feel him next to me. I’m the same with Eddie and Maddy, though it’s not as intense as my anxiety with Alex. Dr. Pressler wants to put me on medication, but I don’t want to go down that route. I wake up with panic attacks, like I’m in a coffin and I can’t breathe.”

My heart breaks for her. When is she going to tell me? I want her to know that she can cling to me all she wants. That I feel the same way about her.

“Isa,” Betty says softly, “I really think that once you tell him the reason for the change in your behavior, he’ll totally understand. It’s not like he minds you being so protective these days. That dork is actually taking advantage of it.”

Shit. She called me out. And she called me a dork. I’m going to interrupt now before she blurts out more stuff to embarrass me. What do they call that? Pillow talk? Lord knows what else Leigh has told her that might give me away. I let out a forced cough as I approach the two of them. Isabel unwinds herself from Betty and they both move away from each other.

“Oh hi!” Isabel smiles warmly and gets up to grab my arm. “Is it time for dinner?”

“Almost. I was just wondering what you guys are up to. Leigh and the kids are outside by the pool.”

***

“One love, One Heart, One Destiny.”

—Bob Marley

I’m sitting at the head of the table with Isa on my left side. Our dining room was recently redecorated to accommodate the pressing need for us to entertain clients at our home, though this is anything but work. Dinner with the Taylors is easy and entertaining, as always. I never cease to delight in the many side exchanges that take place at the table. When the dishes are cleared and the children have left, the conversation is dominated by school and personalities and plans for the summer. Betty is leaning back, her husband’s arm draped across the back of her chair, his hand in hers as it rests on her shoulder. She surveys the newly decorated setting and smiles.

“I really love the way Bobby did this place,” she comments. “The beiges and the blues and the touch of green are perfect. I never thought the contrast would make a huge difference!”

“Your friend here was worried about his ideas at first. But I think she’s glad she decided to give him free rein to bring his creation to life. That mural he painted is his labor of love for Isa,” I boast as everyone turns to the wall and vehemently nods their head in agreement.

“Are we seeing each other at the Red Cross Benefit at the Mandarin next weekend?” Betty continues.

“Yes, we are! What time do we need to be there?” Isa asks.

“I think cocktails start at 6:30. Let’s meet at seven.”

“Sounds great. Miss Organizer, do you know who’s at our table?” I reach over to hold Isa’s hand as it rests on the table, fidgeting with her wedding ring, turning it around and around.

“No idea. I try to keep out of the table assignments. That way it all stays pretty neutral.”

“Babe, have we sent the check out for that yet?” I ask.

“Yes, we have. The office cut two checks. One in your company’s name and one in my mother’s. You’re not making a speech that night, are you?”

“No. But my dad will be.”

“You boring business people,” Leigh sneers at me as Betty playfully smacks his hand. This guy is living off his royalty payments for years of being at the top of his modeling career. He now dabbles in various film productions and runs his own agency based in New York. He’s done very well for himself; we’ve both been very lucky to find the right investments in this still-weakened market.

Our conversation continues on until our guests decide that it’s past the children’s bedtime and start gathering themselves to go. As we’re hanging out by the front door saying our goodbyes, Betty has an afterthought.

“Oh, wait! I forgot. Isa, I’m going to have to fly to New York to pick Mike up after spending the month with his grandparents. I was thinking that we should add on our annual shopping trip then? Maybe we fly out a week before and then come home with Michael? Leigh takes him there in two weeks.”

I can see that Isabel is ignoring her question. “Bye kids, be good,” she says as she bends down to kiss each one of them on the cheeks.

“Iss, did you hear me? Did you want me to look into getting our flights?” Betty repeats herself.

Isa looks straight at Betty and slightly shakes her head. You know, the one that says, “Not now, Betty.”

Betty won’t let her up. She wants a response from her friend. “We can time our trip to coincide with their winter fashion events!”

“I don’t think so, Betts. Not this year. I really just want to stay close to home. And to Alex and the kids.”

“I’m thinking that it might be a good thing, baby, to take a little break,” I interject. “I’ll make sure I don’t plan anything then.”

“No, it’s okay. No. Not this year.” She waves her hand flippantly, which Betty takes as a sign to keep her mouth shut.

“Okay, guys!” Betty says cheerfully. “Thank you for dinner. See you next week!”

We hug and kiss and let them out the front door. The moment I latch the lock on the door, I turn around to find Isa heading up the stairs.