Merl and Heide

Yes, I thought as I held my newborn son in my arms, this is the way it's supposed to be.

...

Epilogue -- 26 years later:

The woman sat at the table on her balcony, looking out over the sea. She had just read an article on her tablet about the man she once called her husband. According to the article, he just retired from his position as the CEO of an international quick-loan company.

Now a billionaire, he and his wife of more than 20 years were set to embark on a round-the-world cruise. According to the article, their son, Robert, had graduated from the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland, with honors, and was now an officer in the United States Marine Corps.

A tear slid down her face as she thought about that. It should've been her son, and it should've been her going on that cruise. But she foolishly threw all that away for sex, fame and money. Her ex-husband -- the man she cuckolded for most of their 16-year marriage -- looked happier than she could ever remember.

Worse yet, he still had his good looks. She watched the video that accompanied the article and couldn't help but notice the way he and his wife looked at each other. They were clearly a couple deeply in love with each other -- the way she and Merl used to be. A reporter asked him the secret of his success.

"Truth, fidelity and the love of a wonderful woman," he said with a smile, taking a glance at the brunette standing next to him. A sob escaped her mouth as she touched the screen. Why was I so damn stupid, she asked herself.

It had been 26 years -- 26 years this month, in fact -- since the Mirabella capsized, sending everyone to their deaths. Well, not everyone. There was one survivor: Heide White, a.k.a., "Flaming Red," every man's wet dream. A married prostitute and porno star, ready, willing and able to spread her legs at the drop of a hat for anyone with a hard dick and the right amount of cash.

She remembered that God-awful night as if it were just yesterday. She remembered barely grabbing her purse when the vessel went on its side. She managed, somehow, to get into one of the few life rafts that were left. She remembered seeing her friend, Meredith, as she slipped under the water, her eyes and mouth open in panic. She reached out to save her friend, but couldn't get to her in time.

For days, she huddled under the tarp on the raft, trying in vain to protect herself from the elements. Several times, she heard the sound of a helicopter in the distance, but the rescuers never saw her. She tried to get the sounds of the screaming passengers out of her head, but to no avail. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Meredith looking up at her from the watery depths.

As she bobbed helplessly in the sea, she came to the realization that she would never be rescued. Perhaps, she thought, that would be a good thing. After all, she would have to explain what she was doing in the wheelhouse that night that distracted the helmsman so much he was unable to respond to the danger ahead.

Somewhere out there in the sea, she understood that all those deaths were her fault, and she would have to answer for that. Perhaps it would be best if she died out there, all alone, in the middle of the sea. The raft had a few supplies, which included a few tins of food and a small canteen of fresh water. She rationed her supplies and managed to keep herself alive until a fishing boat came by and pulled her out.

The captain of the fishing boat said they were going to George Town on the Grand Cayman Island. She knew that was where her bank was located. Perfect, she thought. They fed, clothed and took care of her until they reached their destination. She thanked the captain with a handful of $100 bills she pulled from her purse and asked for directions to the bank.

Fortunately for her, she still had her passport in her purse, so she was able to access her account and get some walking around money. A little more than two months and some $75,000 later, Heide White, a.k.a., "Flaming Red," was gone, replaced by Anita Garrity, an American expatriate from Boston.

Of course, all of her papers and documents had been forged, but they were good enough to pass muster with the local officials. She didn't even look like the same woman who left her husband a little more than two months ago.

With a check worth just over $2 million in hand, she made her way to Costa Rica, where she bought a modest but comfortable home on the shore of the Caribbean. She lived there in relative obscurity from that time on, periodically keeping tab on her ex-husband. She had hoped that he might try to find her, to tell her that he forgave her, but it never happened.

She saw that the government chalked the Mirabella incident up to a freak storm and had declared all hands lost at sea, which meant she was -- at least as far as the government was concerned -- dead. Still, she knew the truth would eventually come out as it always did. So she stayed in hiding. But it wasn't easy. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her friend Meredith, pleading for help as she slipped deeper into the water.

Eight months after the government declaration, she saw that Rye Balled had been raided. The club was shut down permanently, and a number of arrests had been made. Of course, by then, "Flaming Red" had been replaced by a younger, more nubile and blonde version of what she used to be. Over time, the world forgot that Red had ever existed.

She also read about Spencer's stint in the county jail. After his release, he was destroyed by a very vindictive wife who took him to the cleaners in her divorce. She never heard anything more about him after that. Rudy was eventually recalled and left the city in disgrace. The governor and state senators she had hooked up with went on to get re-elected.

She carried on with her new life, and worked to remain as reclusive as possible. She got to know many of the locals and became quite fluent in Spanish. She sometimes spoke with other expatriates, but never dated or formed any close relationships with any of them out of concern one of them might recognize her.

Her dreams continued and became even more vivid as time went on. Eventually, the Meredith in her dreams began calling out to her, begging her to join them. More than once, she was tempted to end her self-exile with an overdose of sleeping pills, but she managed somehow to resist the temptation.

Recently, she had been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer for which there was no treatment. The doctors all told her she had maybe six months to live. Anita, or rather, Heide, did what she had always done and planned her own demise. She was determined not to rot away in a hospice somewhere. She would die as she lived -- on her own terms.

After turning her tablet off, she looked at the paperwork in front of her. She double-checked to make sure everything was in order and signed it on the bottom. She wrote a note to Lupe, the 40-ish local woman who had been her only real friend for the last 15 years. She knew that Lupe would be around in the next day or so to check up on her as she always did.

"Lupe," she began. "I'm leaving to join some friends I haven't seen in years," she added in her best Spanish. "Because of my diagnosis, I won't be coming back. Thank you for your kindness and your friendship these many years. It has meant more to me than you can know. The house and everything in it is yours. I have also signed over the balance of my bank account to you. Please give my love to your wonderful family. All my love, Anna."

She put the letter and the forms where she knew Lupe would see them when she came by. Wracked with pain, she made her way to the dock where a small wooden motor boat was tied. She had already checked and knew that everything she needed was already on board -- extra gas, check; drill, check; diver's weights, check; tequila and sleeping pills, check.

Her plan was simple and easy. When she reached her destination, she would don the diver's weights, drill holes in the boat so it would fill with water and sink, then take a handful of sleeping pills with some tequila to numb the pain. Afterward, she would slip into the water and no one would ever know where she went. She climbed in the boat after untying it from the dock and started it up. She looked back at her house and bid it farewell, then headed out, going northeast.

"I'm coming, Meredith," she said quietly, tears falling down her cheeks. "I'll be with you soon."

...

The end...