Time Exposure (Click Duet 2)

“Gavin,” Mom scolds. I shrug her off. “Anyway. You and Cora are young. You have what looks like a lifetime ahead of you. But I thought the same with your father. So, I chose to work hard and save for us to do everything after retirement. But we can’t predict the future. I never thought I’d be spending my retirement without your father. It’s a hard pill to swallow. And it’s not something I want for you. To live in regret. So whatever I can do to help you, let me know. Because your happiness matters more than anything else in my world.”

I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thanks, Mom. You always say what I need to hear. And after I sort out all the details tomorrow, I’ll let you know.”

Silence rings around us a moment, but soon Mom and I fall into easy conversation. She talks about work and some new software they are developing to detect specific heart defects in the womb. Some new, experimental noninvasive technology. I listen to every word she says, but a lot of what she tells me is gibberish. A strange blend of medical terminology and techie talk. But it’s my mom, so I pay attention to every detail. I smile at her excitement.

When she finishes her story, I tell her about the shoot in Clearwater for Global Beach Magazine. How the magazine will reach major cities across the world. I also let her know I have no doubts about finding a new agent, especially after this shoot. Then I share the last shoot I plan to do here. That it involves Layla. Alyson hasn’t told me what the shoot is for yet, but I can only assume it’s something to do with couples. If that happens to be the case, I will be speaking with that photographer the moment I arrive on set.

After we finish eating, Mom drives me to my house. We exchange hugs and promises to keep in contact throughout the week. I unlock the front door and wave at Mom as she backs out of the driveway. I stand in the darkness a moment and breathe in the stale air and vacancy around me. When I flip the light on, I scan the empty and soulless house I have lived in for the last eight years.

Then I drop to my knees and cry. “I’m finally going home.”

Eight

Cora

The sun burns fiery as it collides with the horizon.

Over the last week, I have visited the beach every evening. Sat in the same exact spot and nestled my feet in the warm sand. Watched the sun plummet into the water and fizzle into darkness. Smelled the mustiness of the dampened earth. Felt the salty breeze brush against my skin and whip my hair across my face.

Every night is different. The way the sun glows, how the sky changes colors, the scents in the air and on my skin, the sounds of the waves crashing or people chatting, how the breeze fluctuates. All of it. One night, I sat here in the rain. Actually, it was a downpour. But I refused to leave. If anything, I compared the changes in the atmosphere to the temperance of my mood. Like Mother Earth was going through mood swings and taking me on the journey. And I plan to embrace every leg of said journey.

A half hour after the sun is no longer visible, I rise from the sand and walk back toward my car. The drive home is forgotten, and at times I am surprised I make it home in one piece. I recall getting in my car

and parking in the driveway, but nothing in between. Every day is the same.

I unlock the back door and flip on the lights. The scent of daily flower deliveries dying on my kitchen counter permeates the air. For the last five days, a new bouquet of flowers has arrived on my front doorstep. Red roses. White roses. Yellow roses. A mixed variety of roses. And a mixed variety of non-roses.

Each bouquet from my mom and Shelly’s florist shop. Each bouquet sent with a small note. And I read each one of them. Absorb all the words. Unlike the text messages I continue to get from Gavin.

The notes sweet and short.

I miss you, baby.

Sunsets are never the same without you.

Tu es les étoiles de ma lune.

Can we watch Lord of the Rings on repeat for a week straight?

Soon, baby. Soon.

Surely, my mom and Shelly are enjoying Gavin’s whole charade a little more than most people. And as bad as my house started smelling yesterday, I can’t throw any of the flowers away. I just can’t. Maybe I should dry them. Drying them would at least eliminate the funk in the air.

Luna weaves figure eights between my legs, purring and mewling as we head toward her bowl. After I give her a scoop of food and a few pets, I head to my room to change clothes. I love the scent of the beach—it conjures up so many wonderful memories—but I don’t enjoy the constant sand on my skin. Beach sand is nature’s equivalent to glitter.

A few days ago, Shelly stated we were going out. There was no asking and I wasn’t allowed to refuse. Everyone was going and we were visiting the nightclub Micah works at in Tampa. Although I didn’t want to go, I had no energy to fight Shelly. So I caved. It wasn’t worth the argument.

I riffle through my closet and grab a pair of black skinny jeans and an equally black short-sleeve top. On a normal night, I would brush my hair and make myself look presentable. But since I currently give no fucks… I drag my hair up, combing it with my fingers, and securing it with an elastic band. It’s sloppy and tired looking and I don’t give a shit. If Shelly wants to force me to go out, she will suffer the consequences of my appearance.

Undoubtedly, Shelly will give me a ration of shit, but whatever. She can suck it up like I am.

Minutes later, a knock raps at the door. “It’s open,” I scream, louder than necessary.

The door opens and three pairs of feet trample across my wood floor. I remain on the couch, staring at the unlit fireplace. Visually tracing the rough grain of the chopped raw wood in the firebox. Pondering if I will ever get to light a fire and snuggle close to Gavin. I briefly close my eyes and take a deep breath. Nowadays, no breaths seem deep enough.

“Why the hell is your back door unlocked?” Shelly asks in her best motherly tone.

And I don’t want to listen to her lecture me, just because it is all I have heard for days. If she felt an inkling of what I do, she wouldn’t bother with such frivolity. “Because I’ve only been home for fifteen minutes and knew you guys would be here soon.”