Leave the Night On Pt. 05

Pearl's demeanor hinted at a free spirited, independent woman who's always been larger than life. In comparison, I've always felt inadequate. Too serious. Uptight, even. I'm too tethered to my commitments to my family. She's a wild, free creature and I'm a caged one. How could I be what she wants?

I've been meaning to apologize, to explain the reasons that led me to panic and run the way I did. I owe her that much. Except that I could never find the right moment. I could never find the courage to face her after the shit I pulled on her. In hindsight, my actions aren't explainable.

I have every word rehearsed; every excuse etched into my brain. Nothing I could ever say will be good enough. Nothing will ever make up for the hurt I saw in her eyes. Nothing changes the fact that she deserves to hear everything. I owe her the truth. The fucked part is that I'm not sure I have the strength to tell her I can't be with her while hiding how much I want her.

"For what it's worth," Kay continues, yanking me out of my reveries. "I think she'll forgive you. I mean, you forgave me and I did much worse to you."

"Hey." I reach for her hand and lace her fingers through mine. "We forgave each other," I say, giving her a reassuring squeeze. It's such a relief to have her friendship. She knows me as only family can. We've been through so much and I'm grateful, every day, for everything we shared. I'm grateful that it gave us Hannah and that it brought us here.

"I don't understand you, Jules," she says, briefly glancing in my mother's direction before gingerly pulling her fingers from mine. "Why are you denying yourself the life you want? I know it isn't because of your family. You've already defied them for me."

My father refused to talk to me after I told him I would marry Karen despite his protests. It took the threat of death to make him come around.

"Umma is getting old, Kay," I say the words quietly, afraid something out there might pick up on my fears.

She gives me a look from under her raised eyebrows. "So? She's been getting old forever and never gets there. She will probably outlive us all."

I roll my eyes at her. Sometimes, she's as old as she was the day I met her. "She's too fragile to be by herself. Eventually, she'll have to move in with me and I'll have to take care of her. You know how she is; she isn't easy. She's starting to forget things."

"Henry could help you," she offers.

We both glance over at my brother who's joined his wife and Gareth in making Hannah giggle to death. "Henry has his own life," I say. "As much as Umma brags about having the choice, she won't move to Korea. She's been here too long to forsake this country and she won't be away from Hannah." I'm an unmarried father, my mother thinks it is her responsibility to help me with Hannah. In truth, they are both my responsibility. "If I ever...If Pearl ever...She'd take this load on too, Kay. I love my family more than anything, but I don't have the right to burden Pearl with my obligations."

"You're being ridiculous," she says, dismissing my concerns. "Your life isn't a burden, Jules. Pearl is in love with you. She wants to be part of your life. I'm sure that she'd accept it just as it is if it means she gets to have you."

"I know she'd accept it. She said as much." I don't want her to accept the littleness of my life, though. I want so much more for her.

"Today?"

"Yeah. Called me on my bullshit, too," I say, remembering Pearl's words. "She has me all figured out, Kay. Here I was thinking I was doing such a great job keeping all these different aspects of my life in separate boxes and Pearl could see right through my bullshit all along."

"Then what's holding you back? Is this all your life will be? Caring for Hannah and your mother? What are you going to do when Hannah gets into college and moves out? What about when your mother dies and no one else needs you? What will you do when you need someone?"

There's a reason, beyond our shared history, why I always turn to my ex-wife for advice. She has the ability to make things simple where I only know how to complicate them. "I'm not thinking that far ahead," I admit, feeling stupider by the second.

"You gave up so much already, Jules," she says, eyeing me with sympathy. "Friends, relationships, a social life. What about you, uh?"

"That's just the thing! It's not just about me. There's Hannah, too."

"Hannah likes Pearl," she argues like I knew she would. "The kid was just telling Gareth she doesn't like the new teacher. She said Pearl was funnier."

"She is funny."

"Awn." Kay elbows me for a third time. "Look at your stupid grin! Hannah loves you, you idiot. She wouldn't wish for you to be alone. Even if she doesn't understand that now, she will later. I mean, look at her with Gareth! She adores him! Honestly, this outdated notion that a child owes their undying gratitude to their parents isn't something I wish on our daughter. You don't want Hannah to spend her life thanking us for making her, do you? You don't want her duty bound to wipe your ass when you're old. Pearl could be the one helping you do that. You're denying yourself a woman you want because of your ridiculous sense of duty to other people. You think you're sparing her, instead all you're doing is denying the both of you what could be an amazing relationship."

The fire crackles in the hearth, the flames licking up the logs I threw in. I stare into the orange swirling heat until I see Pearl's face as it was earlier. Tear stricken, vulnerable, hurt, and beautiful as ever. "She's still so young, Kay. Ten years younger than I am. Stunning as she is, with that surreal personality, she should have someone with a clean slate. Someone with whom she could build a life from square one." Even as I say the words, the thought of Pearl in someone else's arms makes me ill. "I don't know what I did to earn her, Kay. I can't believe a woman like her would choose me. That's why I don't want to invite her into my life to be Hannah's babysitter, to be my mother's caretaker. Much less to wipe my sorry ass when I'm old."

"You want her for yourself though, don't you?"

"Yes! I do. I want her so much there's no breathing around it, but I have no idea how I'd manage to be what Pearl deserves while also being a father and a son." I voice this for the first time. Admitting to this particular insecurity doesn't feel half as liberating as I'd hoped. "The last time I fell in love I was barely an adult. And I fell in love with you." I laugh at the absurdity of our reality. "Look at us! The last time I loved a woman, that woman was you. Now you're giving me love advice."

"Boy. I fucked you up good, didn't I?"

I glance sideways at my child's mother. She's aiming for banter as if she could fool me. It doesn't matter how much time has gone by or how many times we talk things over, Kay can't free herself from her need to compensate for mistakes of the past. "I fucked up, too," I say.

Kay rearranges herself on the couch, sitting straight-backed. "Listen to me, Jules, and listen well." She holds my gaze with the fierce determination I'm on good terms with. "I know I haven't always been the best mother for Hannah or the best supporter for you. But I'm here, too. I am her mother. I'm your friend. I will always help. I love you and I want you to be happy. If Pearl is what it takes, then stop looking for excuses. You deserve a life of your own. You do deserve her. If any man on this planet deserves a great woman, that man is you. Pearl's lucky a man like you loves her. I'm lucky my daughter might get to have a woman like her in her life. Also, I'm sure I'd gain a new friend because Pearl seems like my kind of gal. We're all lucky here. We should all be happy."

In that illicit picture of my imagination, I see my ex-wife being a friend to my...whatever Pearl is. Out of nowhere, and for the first time in a while, I feel the beginnings of an unbidding laughter surge deep in my belly. Around Pearl, I used to laugh like this all the time. "Shit, Kay. I miss her," I blurt in a confessional tone. "I fucking miss her so much."

"And you love her?" Kay's tone is less prodding than encouraging.

"I..." I can't quite grasp my feelings enough to articulate them. I've never been the kind to eloquently voice romantic ideas. "When I met Pearl, I was content with the life I led. I didn't think I needed anyone else in it. After I got to know her, though, I see everything is bland compared to her. She's...she's wondrous, Kay. If she's around, I...I'm not even this...this boring, settled man. I'm bigger, I'm better. I want more. When I'm with her, I sort of...smile. Shit. She makes me laugh so much my goddamn face hurts! She has this energy, this presence that brightens everything around her and I'm afraid this dullness of my days might dim her light. I would sooner give her up than do that to her, and yet...She breathes fresh air into me and now that I know how it is to be with her, being without is close to unbearable. I just..." I trail off, hearing my own rambling. Jesus, I'm such an idiot for not seeing this sooner. I let out an incredulous chuckle at my own cluelessness.

"You love her, Jules."

I blink, stupefied by my own ignorance. "Like crazy."

I guess I've known for a while. I certainly knew it when she said it first. I guess Pearl must have suspected it, too. It has been so long since I allowed anyone close enough to give them a chance to discover me, to connect with me, to...love me. Little by little, I gave myself away and Pearl found something worthy of her love. If only I hadn't been such an asshole.

Karen is laughing at my cluelessness. "You should've told her," she says, catching her breath. "Now that you've finally figured it out, she might just be the only other person who doesn't know it. I know I guessed it from day one."

"I should've told her." And I decide that I will, if I still can.

"Does she know the things you're worrying about?" Kay asks me, changing her tone to one of thoughtful concern. "Does she know you walked away from her because you might just love her too much? That that's why you panicked when she told you she feels exactly the same way you do? Cause you're not one to freely offer your feelings and thoughts. I've survived you solely through my incomparable persuasion skills."

"Kay!" I find myself laughing again. "Stop being so level-headed!"

"Come on. Answer my many very sensible questions!"

"Pearl did all the talking," I say. "She wouldn't let me explain myself."

"So, in other words, she's out there thinking you don't want her. Rejection isn't fun, Jules."

"I tried to talk to her, but she's so stubborn! Proud as hell, too!"

"Your favorite kind, then! All the more reason for you to try again."

"I plan to. I can't just leave things as they are."

"Okay, listen. I have some news I wanted you to be the first to know." She casts a quick glance over her shoulder, once she's sure no one is paying attention to us, she pulls something out of her jeans' pocket. "Garth asked me to marry him," she whispers, showing me the ring.

"That's great news! Congratulations!"

"I know, thanks! Now, keep it down!" she hisses.

I lower my voice to only breathing volume. "Didn't you say yes?"

"Of course, I did," she whispers and hides the ring back in her pocket. "But I have a proposition for you."

"We're not getting married again," I joke, successfully making her smile.

"Shut up and listen. Do you want Pearl?"

"I do. Fuck. I really, really do." Just saying the words increases the intensity of my desire to have her near me.

Karen nods as though my feelings towards Pearl were already obvious to her. "Here's my offer. I won't tell Hannah. Actually, I won't tell anyone about Gareth's proposal. In return for my discretion, you go after Pearl, beg her for forgiveness and tell her you're in love with her. Once you two figure out your shit and settle down together, I'll do my thing."

All I can do is stare at Karen. Speechless.

She shrugs. "Mom and Daddy both finding love at the same time might be too much for Hannah. You do it first."

"Kay..." I start with no words to finish. I know Karen thinks she doesn't do enough. I know she carries guilt over our past. But this is selflessness beyond my expectations.

She takes my hand in hers. The weight of them is old and comforting. "You deserve it, Jules. More than anyone I know. Do something for yourself, for once."

Staring into Kay's hazel eyes I remember words Pearl once said. It's easy to see how you loved her once. Pearl was right. I remember now. Falling in love with my ex-wife was easy. Allowing that love to transform, to blossom anew into friendship was easy as well.

I lift our joined hands to my lips and kiss the back of her hand. "Thank you," I say. "Thank you for being my friend, Kay."

"Meh. Don't mention it." She pulls up one of her comic faces, trying to diminish her gesture.

Looking at our history in hindsight, the fact that we can call each other friend now is a source of pride for me. Once there was so much bitterness and resentment between us. And instead of sinking under the weight of it, Karen and I forgave each other.

I fucked up with Pearl. Now that her absence has cast a gloom over my days, it's clear I've taken her for granted. I underestimated the impact we had on each other's lives. That's why I have to try, in whichever way I can, to earn her forgiveness.

Perhaps, I won't be able to fix everything, but I can try my best. And I know just where to start. "Hey Kay, I need to show you something."

***

PEARL

MY DRESS BILLOWS AROUND my body. The silk is a fluid, ethereal coolness wrapping me in a water-like substance as I cross the hotel's lobby to the restaurant area. The unsubtle suggestion of money is everywhere from the dripping crystal chandelier overhead to the golden polished floor reflecting my figure.

Guillermo, my stepfather, has done business with this luxury hotel chain since he took over the family business, providing them with our best bottles every year. He also insists on being present for the opening of the first bottle.

The overwhelming lavishness presses in on me, tilting my confidence off its axis. My couture gown, the gold earrings dangling from my ears, the designer shoes, the subtle elegant makeup on my face are all artifices to smother my sense of remoteness. None of these things belong to me, same as I don't belong to them. My mother married a wonderful, loving man who happens to be astonishingly rich. A man who loves me and considers me his daughter.

Guillermo's paternal love has given me an education, security, a trust fund that has allowed me to be unemployed for months. It has also given me privileges women with my heritage seldomly ever know. Which is why my guilt and shame regarding my enjoyment of the benefits of money fill me up with a sense of hypocrisy and ingratitude.

At the restaurant's reception, the maître d' recognizes me easily. I'm directed to our usual table, my belly swarming with butterflies. I haven't seen my parents in over a year. Their long absences are like a pain dulled by time and, whenever we meet, I'm reminded of that bond that stretches and thins but never quite snaps between us.

My parents are easy to spot. They are the loudest, happiest people in the restaurant. I hear my mother's chiming laughter even before my eyes find her. She has been beautiful her entire life, but ever since meeting Guillermo, happiness has transformed her. Her head is tipped back, the thick dark waves of hair are draping down her back, and the thunderous sound of her mirth is filling up my ears. Sitting with his back to me, my dad is facing her, no doubt watching her, entranced and marveling on his luck.

As I approach them, someone on a table to the left moves and clears the view, revealing a third person sitting with my parents. My feet falter under me, halting my stride. His profile hints at a boy I used to know and yet...This man can't be him.

I blink twice. Again, a third time. He's still there.

Another blink and I'm treading the thin line between childhood and womanhood and the boy with the tawny skin and honeyed eyes flashes me a smile whenever he sees me.

A blink. My half-brother is introducing me to his new friend, Gael, the boy he met while helping with the work in the grape vines. The boy who smiles at me again.

A blink. Gael is my father's new apprentice, sharing with me the task of giving the tourists a view of our warehouses.

A blink. We can hear the sizzling of the fermenting grapes while Gael kisses me behind a line of oak barrels. Our teeth collide. My lips tingle. My heart swells and I think I'm in love.

I open my eyes. Gael is telling me he loves me. I say "I love you" to a boy for the first time.

But that man laughing at something my mother has just said isn't him, is he?

As soon as I've denied the possibility of his presence, he turns and our gazes meet. The instant his eyes settle on me his jaw drops. The years fade away, striping me bare of my past until I'm seventeen again. His name leaves my lips in a silent rush of air. "Gael."

Gael's expression mirrors mine, flashing with something alike to skepticism. His eyebrows crinkle then rise over widened eyes that haven't touched me in almost seven years. His gaping mouth closes slowly then his lips move, shaping my name the way he used to call it. "Perla."

His gaze lingers on me, still honey and cinnamon, doused in reverence as it skims over my body. The spark of recognition begins somewhere in my teenage years and, unsuspecting and unbidden, it reaches me in the present wrenching a booming laughter out of me. Gael breaks out of his trance and pushes his chair back with a scraping sound. He's upon me in a few strides of his long legs. His arms squeeze my waist, sweeping me off the ground. He spins us around, the world becoming a blur of colors.

I cling to him, holding him as tightly as he holds me, basking in his solidity. His laughter half convinces me of his reality. He must be real because the heat of his body pierces through the insubstantial fabric of my dress and I discover that we remember how to mold around each other. The difference is that now there's more of him to hug. He's broader. Firmer. Yet, he smells the same. That sliding curve made of his neck and shoulder is redolent of my first love. His smell is evocative of that boy I waited to kiss at the end of each day when his skin would be sunbaked and spicy.

He smells like home.

He lowers me back to the ground, sliding his hands to my sides. The whole world changes, reshapes and refocuses. The past shedding off to give life to the present. I go molten, attuned to the spot where his touch is singing the cool silk. My smile is so wide it pulls tight on the skin of my face. His eyes take me in with a known heat that stirs a sentiment only one man after him has provoked in me. I'm half inclined to believe he is a figment of my imagination, a mere piece of memory that has escaped my mind.

I open my mouth twice before I manage to stammer. "I...Oh...My...God!"

He laughs, bright and boisterous. "Perla."

The lines of his face have lost most of their softness. He's all sharp, cutting edges, like a wood carving of himself. His skin, though, is still cinnamon bark. His hair is just as black, but longish now. The fat curling waves slicked back, tamed with hair gel, no doubt. When I knew him, he was still shedding the last traces of boyhood. Through time he's emerged as a man.

I cup his cheeks in my hands, framing a face crinkled by happiness. "I can't believe you're here!" I proclaim, amazed. "You've grown."

He's more handsome than ever.