Endless Summer Nights (12 page)

“No, they’re prawns,” I corrected him.

“Prawns? You mean shrimp?” On his knee, he pondered the images carefully. I looked into his hair, how it curled from the scalp. “I don’t understand why you would have shrimp on your skirt,” he said just when I thought that I wondered what his hair must feel like.

“It’s a nautical theme,” I snapped, stepping back from his close stare. “And prawns are my favorite food, so it’s perfect and I love it. And it’s a sarong—not a skirt. Look, just give me the phone.” I reached again and he got back up.

“Come on, Marlo. Come back outside. Let’s get in the pool,” a woman’s voice called from outside.

“A minute,” Marlo hollered toward the voice before turning back to me. “You promise not to call Kimya?” he asked.

“I won’t call her,” I said. “As much as I hate to have you and your posse here, I can’t be held responsible for sending your drunk asses back onto the highway. Just be gone in the morning.”

“Can do,” Marlo said softly, and for like thirty seconds there was this uncomfortable stare where he was looking into my eyes to learn something about me.

I blinked to break it.

“The phone,” I insisted. “Give me the phone.”

Marlo peacefully handed me the phone and went in the direction of the pool party I wasn’t invited to.

I trudged up the steps with my attitude all around me. Another day with no music and no plans. And now I was playing Mrs. Hanigan at the hip-hop orphanage.

“And turn down that damn music,” I hollered, but I knew they hadn’t heard me.

* * *

I watched the sun rise over Long Island on Saturday morning.

I’d hardly slept. Marlo and the motley crew kept their little pool party popping for so long I’d threatened to call the police twice, and when they finally quieted and I’d fallen asleep I thought I heard my father’s music playing on a guitar. But when I opened my eyes the only guitar in the house was on the stand beside my bed.

I got up when I was still half-asleep, and in the darkness of the guest room I forced my body out of bed, my feet into sneakers and then down the steps for a morning jog I claimed would be six miles long.

As Marlo had promised, his constituents were sprawled out all over the living room.

I tiptoed past the men slumped over couches and chairs that couldn’t be comfortable; still, their loud snores said they were having no trouble sleeping. The thickest one was holding the half-empty bottle of cognac in his chubby pinky-ring-clad hand. I thought to snatch it away, but then I looked to see the cap was missing and knew he’d likely been sipping it straight from the bottle.

I rolled my eyes and looked to the women who had taken up residence on the long black couch. Lying head to head, they were cloaked in the bathrobes Kimya kept in the cabana beside the pool. One woman was clutching her cell phone. Both had tattoos on their breasts.

Walking out into the capricious darkness of a new day beginning, I resolved my annoyance at my unwelcome houseguests by reminding myself that they would all be gone soon. I’d be able to get back to my big plan to save my own life. Put one word into the empty notebook.

“Save my own life.” I actually repeated my thought aloud when I kicked off and started running past the sand dunes toward the heavy wet ocean dirt where the waves had risen during the night. I repeated it twice. It was a revelation. It sounded like something I’d written on a sticky note and attached to my desk only to forget it two days later. Was I doing that? Did my life need saving?

I started running faster through the fading darkness.

My father was in my ear telling me about his diagnosis. He didn’t know how he’d gotten it, but in whispers I was hearing something about my mother.

Soon, HIV became our everything. Everything we talked about. Everything we argued about. For ten months. It was our fight. It made me scream. Cry. Everyday.

“You won’t be crying for too long, baby,” my father said one night. “I promise.”

Three miles into the jog I stopped to turn around to run back to the house, but I couldn’t move. The sun had made the cloudy world above pink and there it was in front of me now, waiting.

I stood there firm in the sand. All around me, there were couples and joggers and women walking with babies hanging from their backs. Everyone in motion. And I was standing still. I remembered how Marlo had looked into my eyes last night in the kitchen before we’d parted ways. How everything seemed to stop as he’d tried to peer inside, to know me. I wondered what he’d seen. What he thought he’d learned.

* * *

When I got back to the house, I crept past the still-sleeping living room loungers and envied their slumber. I sulked up the steps and stuffed the guitar into the closet. I kicked off my sneakers and crawled into bed to bury myself under the covers. Any courage I’d had when I’d arrived at that house was gone from me then. I wanted to be a turtle. To hide myself away. Or maybe get a little more sleep. I didn’t promise a new start when I woke up. Maybe it was just time to go home. Maybe I was fooling myself and everyone else about my music.

“Sunny, it’s time to wake up,” I heard so soon I was sure it was just a whisper in my dream.

“No,” I whined groggily between my sleep and reality. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Come on.”

“I want to sleep. I’m tired of everything.”

“But it’s after noon. And I drove all the way out here to see you.”

“What?”

“Wake up!”

I twisted around in my cotton cocoon and opened my eyes. There was nothing but the darkness of being under covers.

“Get out from under that damned cover! No one’s supposed to be sleeping this time of day!”

I waded through the covers and popped my head out to a bright guest room that I’d left darkened by blinds when I’d come in from running.

Leticia was standing at the foot of the bed smiling with Starbucks coffee in her hand.

“Leticia?”

“Don’t look so surprised to see me. You told me to come,” she snapped. “And I didn’t know you were having company. If I had, I would’ve brought my cute bikini.”

“They’re still here?” Just then I heard music coming from downstairs. “Shit!”

“Yes, they are!” Leticia sat on the bed. “And I saw Marlo and his cute self, too. Walking around in swimming trunks. I almost fainted. Thank Gawd my mother taught me better.”

“They’re supposed to be gone.”

“Why? Nothing wrong with having a little sexy around. You know I like sexy.”

“Sexy? Did you see those people?”

“Don’t be an old lady, please,” Leticia begged, getting up and walking over to the window to open the blinds. “And get up. I didn’t come all the way here to watch you sleep.”

I started to get up. “I’m glad you came.”

“I told Clayton I was working on the wedding with you. I’m back to the city in the morning, though. You know he insists we go to church every Sunday at 7:30 a.m.”

“With you there, I’m surprised that church doesn’t burn down!” I joked. “So, what do you want to do today?” I added devilishly, as if there was any real trouble someone our age could get into in the Hamptons besides some heavy drinking and fainting on the beach. Then I suggested, “Breakfast?”

“More like lunch.” Leticia opened the blinds a little more to reveal the brightest sun that looked as though it was hanging right outside the window.

“What time is it?”

“I told you it was after noon.”

I ran over to the window to see the entire beach outside alive with sandcastle construction and boogie boards.

Leticia stood beside me with a concerned look. “Get yourself in the shower and dressed. Our day in the Hamptons awaits.”

After I got myself ready, Leticia and I packed two beach bags and set out for an afternoon stroll around the Hamptons. We patrolled our usual oceanside haunts, a couple of eclectic jewelry shops and clothing boutiques that sold overpriced items that always seemed to get lost or broken within months of purchase. Still, we oohed and aahed as we walked hand in hand like old buddies through the maze of beautiful things.

Beauty wasn’t the only thing catching our eyes. Throughout town, there were old bars that served up the best shrimp cocktails and straight-up cocktails. We were enticed by everything and by midafternoon our hands were filled with bags of expensive clothing and jewelry, and our tummies were filled with delicious food and alcohol. We were like walking zombies in big shades and beach hats.

During the remainder of the afternoon, I kept looking at my watch and considering when Marlo would have left the beach house. Before Leticia and I set out, we looked everywhere for him so he could explain why he was still there when he’d promised to leave in the morning, only to discover he’d gone for a “store run” per the dude who’d introduced himself as Milt.

Though Leticia and I were sure we couldn’t put one more thing in our mouths, we greedily decided our last stop had to be at Scoop Du Jour. Leticia admitted that she’d only made the drive to have a little ice cream followed by one of Dreesen’s doughnuts.

“Guess your little escape wasn’t about me after all,” I said, watching Leticia stuff both the ice cream and doughnut pieces into her mouth as we sat outside the café on a wooden bench, people-watching.

“Girl, it’s never really about you,” Leticia said laughing. “You know I’m on this crazy wedding diet. I’ve been so hungry I think I’m losing my mind sometimes.”

“I’m glad your greedy behind came. This has been fun.”

“We need more times like this.” Leticia looked at me seriously.

I agreed. Throughout that day, I’d told Leticia all about my plan and how I was going to sever ties with Kimya as soon as I got to working on my music again. I let her know that was why I was in the Hamptons, and I even thanked her for being so direct with me about my needing a change. A lesser friend would’ve been shy or just talked about me behind my back.

On the way back to the house, the Saturday sun was setting and cars filled with sleepy children and party-hungry singles flashed past either side of Leticia’s bright yellow Beetle.

When we turned on Lily Pond Lane, I could already see the lights on in Kimya’s living room, and this sent me into a little unexpected rage.

“What the hell are they still doing here?” I protested as Leticia pulled into the driveway. She was on the phone giggling with Clayton and his promises of missing her and hadn’t yet sensed my frustration.

“What are you going on about?” Leticia asked when she’d gotten off the phone and stopped the car.

“They were supposed to be gone this morning,” I complained, picking up my belongings in a scattering of shopping bags in the backseat.

“You need to calm down,” Leticia said. “Getting all upset and about what? So, you have a little extra company. They can’t be that bad! The more the merrier. It’s that simple.”

With those words of encouragement, we walked into the house.

“You back already, baby girl?” Milt asked from his position on the couch. “Why don’t you chill out and watch a movie with me, my man Icey and Unique. They ain’t even finished making the gumbo yet.”

“Gumbo?” I spat. “Ain’t nobody making gumbo. Y’all are supposed to be gone! What is going on here?” I nearly kicked the door open, and there standing before two huge pots with steam hovering above were Marlo and the woman who had been vying for his attention beside the pool.

Holding the spoon up to the woman’s mouth, Marlo turned to me, still smiling, and answered, “We’re cooking!”

“I see that,” I said, scowling, but admittedly softening to the scent of gumbo wafting from the stove.

“Don’t just see, girl, come and have a taste,” the woman proposed, oozing with delight at what Marlo had served on the spoon.

“I don’t want to taste!” I protested. “I want you to—”

My anger was once again muted by Leticia’s friendly chatting when she entered suddenly. “Well, I want to taste! And what is that smell?” She went right to the pot and danced her nose over the steam.

“Leticia!” I called to get her attention, but she’d fallen into some conversation with Marlo and was gearing up to taste his food. They’d met a few times before when Leticia was prepping him as a witness for one of Kimya’s hearings.

Leticia stopped to answer my prodding just before eating the concoction that had Marlo smiling.

“Have you forgotten that we’ve already had lots to eat?” I reminded her sternly in a voice that let her know I wasn’t pleased with her deception.

“There’s always room for—” She paused and looked at the spoon. “You made this gumbo?”

“My very own recipe,” Marlo bragged. “I only break it out for important occasions.”

“Oh...and what’s the occasion tonight?” Leticia asked.

“Well, dinner with my new friend Sunshine,” Marlo explained.

“Really?” Leticia cooed, glancing at me suggestively.

“Yeah, she was nice to me last night. Thought I’d thank her.”

“Nice... And you can cook?” Leticia said.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I pointed out as Leticia grinned behind him. “I asked you to leave.”

“I know, but you just seemed so mad at me last night. I wanted to make it up to you,” Marlo said. “I went and got some prawns—you said you like them, right?”

“Yes, she does!” Leticia said before I could respond.

“Great. I guess that means you two will be joining us for dinner?” Marlo asked.

“Ye—” Leticia tried, but I stopped her.

“No!”

“No?” She glared at me and asked, “Why not?” with Marlo.

“Because, as I stated, we’ve already eaten.” I pulled Leticia from behind Marlo, so she had to stand beside me in a united front. “And we’re spending quality time together. And we’re not hungry.”

“Speak for yourself,” Leticia murmured.

Marlo looked down at us, bearing the face of a confused man, and then his gaze settled on me and with brown eyes dipped in sincerity, he asked, “So, you’re letting my prawns go to waste?”

* * *

Thirty minutes later, after more prodding and insisting from my best friend, I was sitting at Kimya’s long oak slab dining room table with Marlo and his crew, Leticia and a bowl of gumbo that was actually quite tasty.