Page 43 of Whirlwind

“Me too. Crazy fate, huh?”

“Crazy. Jesus. So you like her? This Violet? Or was it just…”

“I like her. I like her a lot.” I said it. Said it out loud.

It was true.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Violet. Not just the heat between us, but the way we could talk with each other. I kept replaying our many conversations. That rare buzz of understanding and honesty and how that had made me feel—understood, valued. How she’d made me feel. Comfortable and excited all at once.

She’d been a firecracker in my night sky. Blowing up brilliantly, colors cracking, light exploding. Gone. Only traces of smoke left behind. I was clinging to that smoke now.

Dad grinned, his hand squeezed my neck. “That’s good news, Beck. Real good news. You got it in you.”

“What’s that? Your charm? Your magnetism?”

“Call it what you want, bud.” He put out his cigarette on a low chuckle. “We got it.”

“Eric, I’m ready.” Astra, dressed in jeans and a deep-cut blouse, orange red lipstick flaring over her mouth, hair a thick wild mass of ebony and dyed red coiled curls, stood at the archway of the house.

“Yeah, babe.” Dad rose up, slapping me on the back. “We got to get to the studio. We’ll catch up more later?”

“Sure.”

Dad strode over to Astra and planted a juicy kiss on her lips. Smiling, Astra waved goodbye to me. I waved back. Arms slung around each other, the two of them went inside.

I needed to get out of this house. Seeing Dad with Astra was unsettling. Is that how relationships with women were fated to go for me too?

My only childhood memory of my parents together was my dad being demanding, my dad sulking, while Mom was cool and detached. I remembered that. I remembered feeling I didn’t know where I fit in all that, where or if there was room for me, a place for me.

And then, later, with his second wife, Dad was very attentive and affectionate. He seemed so happy and relaxed, and I liked that. Growing up with my mother, I’d watched her be a practical, self-sufficient, and very unsentimental lover to a long line of men. I’d never wanted that either, that detachment. And yet now, there she was, impassioned and tender with her new husband. Connected. In love. Solid. And now here was my dad, his romantic happiness had eroded into a kind of reckless, feel good self-indulgence.

Did I have all those in me? The reckless, the romantic, the devoted, the detached? Which was I? Or was it dependent on who your partner was?

I knew I didn’t want a Mae “relationship” again, convenient, ticked all the boxes on paper, and when available, fed instant gratification and immediate needs.

Was that enough? Was that it?

Bobbing on the surface of the pool, the ridiculously bright pink flamingo and the dingy white swan with the crooked neck bumped into each other yet again. They wobbled together, they bobbed apart.

I splashed water at them, and they gawked at me, bobbing, wobbling, drifting.

18

Beck

“Look at this view!”Kendrick, the realtor my lawyer, Mack had set me up with, swept the overly long white curtains out of the way in the primary bedroom suite of the house he was showing me, revealing an incredible view of the San Gabriel Mountains. “Fantastic, isn’t it? Imagine waking up to this every morning.”

I could imagine it. I could imagine me and Violet on the huge round bed in the center of this bedroom facing said fantastic view. A vision of us getting it on filled my eyes, blocking out the mountains in the distance. The two of us writhing, thrusting, licking, coming. Exploring. Moaning. Holding onto each other.

Kissing.

Oh yeah, kissing. She liked kissing, like I did. She dove right in, explored, changed her rhythm to match mine, like I would to match hers. The taste of her lips, her tongue…I often slowed her down, she was that eager. Then she enjoyed the slow down.Thatwas fantastic.

I let out a heavy breath. I missed her. Was there some sort of one night stand etiquette between acquaintances, between friends of mutual friends? I didn’t know. I only knew I missed her and I wanted to talk to her. And I’d been putting off contacting her for two weeks now.

Ridiculous.

“And right through here in the bathroom, you have a view of the reservoir.” Kendrick’s voice brought me back to reality. He gestured into the bathroom area. “Look at this gorgeous tub by the picture window.”

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