Port in a Storm

"I was only joking..." I dropped my head back, covering my face with a hand.

"Were you?"

"Dave, please..." My eyes welled up, and I tried to muffle the sound of tears by pressing a hand to my mouth. I didn't remember the last time I'd cried. Probably when my ex had been sentenced for 21 years. But those had been tears of joy.

"Vivienne, are you alright?" His voice sounded again. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"I'm fine," I said, my lips still quivering, warm tears trickling past my nose. Dave paused for a moment.

"Are you crying?" When he spoke again he sounded surprised. I didn't reply. "Are you crying, Vivienne?" his tone was softer this time.

"I'm okay." I sniffed back tears, no point hiding from him. "Just tired and sleepy."

"What happened?" He was back to being the concerned fiancé. "Everything alright?"

"I don't know," I croaked, allowing myself to cry. "Amy..." I bit my lip, the tears refusing to stop. "Amy's having a boy..."

"And?"

"He's the son of the guy who'd ruined me twelve years ago." I felt a hot knife in my chest as the words left my mouth. There were cars rolling in and out of the parking, the people at the wheel staring at me through the glass while I sat there sobbing. Dave sighed.

"By a strange twist of fate." His voice was soft, soothing. "Why are you crying over it? He's lucky to have a benefactor like you."

"I'm just sad that I'll never be able to tell Amy that we're connected in a way." I was still crying, silent tears making their way down my face. "I don't want to admit that...Aaron has ruined not just my life, but hers as well...I...I cannot..." I trailed off, my sobs getting louder.

Dave remained silent for a while, letting me vent. When my sobbing finally calmed a little, he spoke again.

"He also cheated people, besides playing with girls."

"Yes... I mean, when I left home and came to the city, I'd also survived by doing odd jobs and running errands for rich, influential people. I'd lurk around clubs, that person who was handy to have around. Because hell, everyone could use something. Favours, tickets, a hand hiding the girlfriend from the missus..." I paused, inadvertently thinking of Simon as I said the last few words. "But I never hurt anybody. Never cheated anybody."

"I know." Dave sounded so loving, it made me cry all over again. "No, love, please don't cry anymore," he tried to soothe me. "Oh man, I shouldn't have called."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. You need to cry sometimes." A heavy pause hung between us for a moment. "I'm coming home," he announced.

"No..." It was getting late. I myself had to be home, though I didn't feel like it. "I can't impose."

"Vivienne, for god's sake, you're about to be my wife!" He sounded exasperated at my politeness. "You never impose, and even if you did I wouldn't mind because you have every right to." He paused, inhaled sharply. "Have you even started out?"

"No." I wiped off my tears, the throbbing in my head more intense. "You don't have to come. You're needed there."

"There are many other doctors who can handle things here. Things at home aren't quite the same."

I drank some water. My voice was heavy, nose clogged, and my eyes achy. My hands were still a little shaky. I sighed, sinking back into the seat. Dave would pass by Kingston anyway.

"Will you pick me up, please?" I asked quietly. "I...I don't think I can drive."

"You want me home?" He said, and I could sense his smile.

"I want you to pick me up from the bloody hotel and drive me home." I paused, fishing out a tissue to wipe my nose with. "And I want you to sleep with me when we're home."

Dave laughed, fond and gentle. "Stay right there. I'm coming."

"Dave?"

"Yes?"

"I really was joking."

"Of course you were." There was humour in his voice. "We did talk about having five kids."

"We did?"

"Didn't we?"

"Dave..." I sighed, giggling quietly.

"Coming, coming." He laughed. "I love you."

"Love you back."

I hung up, staring at the phone long after the call had ended. Then I leaned back, closing my eyes, feeling tiredness creep into my bones.

*

The restaurant was the same as I remembered it, twenty-eight floors up, the expansive glass windows opening out onto the city. Simon had us seated with the best view of course, and I stared out the window, wondering what the hell I was doing there.

I waited for Simon to make some attempt at small talk. Nice day, perhaps, or comment on the wine, but instead he sat there, real and solid, in the seat across from me. It made sense, I supposed. Simon had never really had time for empty pleasantries.

"And for you, ma'am?"

"Oh..." I turned back, glanced down at the menu. "The fig salad and the pork, please."

"Dessert?"

"I'll see how the mains go first, thank you." I looked back out the window when the waitress moved away with our order.

"You always used to get dessert."

"Did I?" I shrugged and took a sip of my wine, turning to face Simon. The wedding wasn't far now. Dave's parents were arranging everything. All we had to do was put on our clothes and turn up. Upon mum's insistence, Dave had taken a day off to shop for our wedding rings, then he'd taken me to dine at Locanda. The guest list had also been set, and invites ordered at the finest boutique. Dave's friends had also been planning a stag night for him, though he always said that he became married four years ago. It was all a little overwhelming.

I hoped I didn't look as tired as I felt. If Simon had noticed, he wasn't commenting on it, and he was usually the first one to comment.

"How have you been?" he asked. I almost laughed. Small talk, was it?

"Fine." I replied cautiously. "And you?"

"Well. How's Dave?"

I snorted. Dave and Simon had met only once, at a party at Kingston where I'd been the host and Dave had accompanied me since the partners had also been invited. They'd shaken hands, spoken briefly, before Simon had moved over to others.

"He's fine. Thank you for asking." I took another sip of the wine. "How's your family?"

"Mum's well." Simon sipped his wine. "Not crazy about the divorce. She always thought she wasn't good enough, and now apparently she was the second coming," he laughed dryly.

"Don't let her know about the twenty other comings, then."

Simon laughed. "Just twenty? You underestimate both of us."

"How many were there then, stud?" I teased. I could feel myself smiling. This was dangerous territory, too much like we'd been then, easy and laughing when we were on our own, feeling like I actually knew Simon. As much as anyone could know Simon.

"Only one who mattered."

I felt myself blush, hated myself for it. "That's why I'm here, then?"

"No." He leaned back in his seat. "You've been at the hotel a few months now. I wanted to get your impressions on it."

I blinked. This was an actual business lunch? I almost laughed. Simon smiled back, the wine glass dangling from his right hand, red swell moving serenely against the sides. I looked at it, then looked back at him.

"In what sense?"

"Any sense you like. This is possibly my most ambitious venture yet. I want it to be the best I've got, and you've always had a good eye for these things."

"You...want my advice?"

"I've always appreciated your opinion." He nodded. "You don't think I just kept you around because you were a pretty face, do you? Not many people have ever told me I was wrong, let alone where to stick it. You may be a defensive, stubborn farmer's kid, but you've been doing this long enough to know the business, and at least I know you won't lie to me."

"Don't you have Michael for this?" I wasn't flattered. I wasn't.

"I'm not asking Michael. I'm asking you." Simon drained the glass, put it down. "What do you think about the property?"

"Umm..." I swallowed, thinking. "I've noticed a few issues with the club. The bar...it bottlenecks people. You can see it from the DJ booth, where people ordering drinks are trying to get in around people dancing."

"I've noticed that myself." He nodded. "Where would you put it, then?"

"Where would I...?" I bit my lip, trying to think. "On the other side, up against the back wall. Then you get the flow through from the door. It'll up your revenue, herd people in across the back, then push them out onto the dance floor once they're done. You'll get a natural loop going, and it stops people from clumping in around the toilets and the fire escapes."

"Up here?" Simon had produced a pen, was pulling over a napkin and beginning to sketch the layout.

"Here." I took the pen and drew it in while Simon nodded. "Umm...I have a few suggestions on the pool and the suites as well... you know, a few things that caught my eye..."

"Anything," he approved. I smiled nervously, turning my attention back to the napkin. One of the world's biggest hotel barons seeking advice from me, when he had the finest designers working for him. That was something.

The entrees came. I didn't even notice, was too busy leant over the napkin, sketching furiously while Simon looked on, nodding slowly.

*

Lunch went well. Simon looked pleased with my suggestions, said he'd get work started immediately. I had just left the hotel and was walking towards my car, when my phone rang.

"Ms Robinson?" The voice was that of the receptionist at Kingston. "The police was here."

"What?" My heart skipped a beat. "Why?"

"They were looking for Amy. She's wanted for questioning."

"What did you say?"

"We said we don't know where she lives currently, and would get in touch after finding out."

"Good. Don't worry. I'll take it from here." I paused, took a deep breath. "Thanks so much for following my instructions."

"Of course, ma'am. We know why you're doing it."

I expressed my gratitude again and hung up. Then I got in touch with the police and talked to them about Amy. They'd got to know from neighbours that Aaron had a girlfriend who he used to mistreat. They wanted her to come to the police station, but when they learned she was unwell, they offered to visit her. I gave them the address, requested them to go easy on her. The officer said they would.

Amy was better now. Her weight and appetite had improved, and although she still lived in fear that Aaron would find her, she was slowly coming to accept that she was in a safer place now. She didn't need to be in hospital anymore, so I'd got her and her mother an apartment on rent. She still needed to be on complete rest, and her mother had decided to stay back with her.

I reached Amy a few minutes before the police did. She seemed scared and nervous, but the police was considerate enough to do the interrogation in front of us. Just simple questions like how long she'd known Aaron, if she knew what he did for a living, if she'd ever seen any of his investors or the people he worked with.

Amy answered honestly, said she'd seen Aaron often getting into drunken brawls with people, having heated arguments over the phone or when people came to see him. She couldn't give details because he'd usually ask her to leave the room when he met people, and got angry if she asked anything.

The police noted things down. At one point, when the subject of her abuse came up, she broke down. I held her hand, trying to comfort her.

"Do you want to press charges?" One of the officers asked her. Amy looked up, looked at me, then back at the floor. Then she shook her head.

"What he's done to you is a criminal offence," the officer explained. "Why don't you want to press charges?"

"He's already facing charges," she said softly. Then she swallowed slowly, her hands cold as I held them. "I don't want to be involved in this. Please."

"Fine." The officers proceeded to leave. "Thank you for the information. We might have to call on you again if we require more information."

She nodded. The officers thanked us and left. Amy was still crying in her mother's arms when I went back to the room after shutting the door.

"Are you okay?" I asked, standing at a distance. Amy looked up and nodded.

"You've been taking a lot of trouble for me," she said quietly. "I heard you're getting married soon. I shouldn't--"

"This is no trouble," I shrugged, shoving my hands in the pockets of my skirt. "I just want you to be alright."

"Don't know about that." She looked at her mother. "Make some tea for her, please."

"No, it's fine. I should be leaving now."

When her mother went inside, I moved closer to her. Amy still looked a little sunken and weak, which she obviously was. But more than anything, she looked shaken, like everything that was happening was very overwhelming for her.

I understood. I'd also felt overwhelmed and afraid when I'd found myself testifying against my ex in a courtroom. Amy, on the other hand, was taking it easy on Aaron.

"Are you taking your supplements?" I asked, sitting beside her. She nodded. "Do you still feel pain?" I added.

"Sometimes. Nothing serious, though." She looked at me, her eyes gloomy and dark. "I wasn't ready for this. I don't know if I can raise a child alone."

"Could you do it with Aaron?"

"No. I know this is better, but..." She shook her head, tears sprouting in her eyes again. "I can never thank you enough for all that you're doing for me," she said brokenly. "You're getting married. You must be so busy right now, but here you are--"

"Amy, stop being apologetic," I gave her hand a squeeze. "Women anyway apologise way too much. I like helping others. It isn't trouble for me." I smiled, stroked her hair. "You should be taking care of yourself and your little lad right now. Not thinking about anything else."

I reached for my bag, fished out my purse. "Keep this," I put some cash into her hands. She shook her head.

"You've already done so much for me," she said. "You've got me clothes and medicines, you also got me a place to live in." She withdrew her hands. "I can't take this."

"Keep it, please. You need it. Once you come back to work, I won't do it anymore." I patted her cheeks. "Take care of your baby, okay?"

"Aaron's baby..." She murmured, looking away.

"It isn't the baby's fault." I turned her face towards mine. "It's your baby. Just yours."

She nodded, swiping the edge of her eyes with a finger. "Congratulations, by the way," she said with a smile. "You know, when I see people getting married, I wonder if I'll remain alone forever..."

Fresh tears sparkled in her eyes as she bit her lip and hung her head low. I put my arms around her, pulled her into a hug. When I heard her crying against my shoulder, I held her tighter, as much as her growing belly allowed.

"No. You won't." I knew the truth in those words. There were nice men in the world. I'd found one. She'd find hers too.

*

When I returned home, Dave was slumped in the sofa, head back, feet up on the table. The room was dark.

He looked up when he heard me enter, forced a smile.

"Hey," he said quietly. I put my bag and keys down, then walked up to him. He held my hand when I sat next to him.

"Everything okay?" I asked, touching his thigh. He nodded, his face dark. "Doesn't seem so," I added when he pretended to be fine.

He smiled weakly, then remained silent for a while. I reached out to turn on a light.

"Remember that boy we were supposed to operate on for a malignant brain tumour?" he said quietly. I nodded. "He died this morning," he said, dropping his head back again.

My mouth opened in an inaudible gasp. Of course I remembered. He was 16 and a promising football player. I held his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"How?" I asked softly.

"Seizure induced cardiac arrest." His eyes were still closed. "Not something we expected from a boy that young...but yeah. We were supposed to operate on him tonight."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. The road ahead would've been long and painful anyway."

"Then why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset. I just...cannot get the image of his parents and sister crying out of my mind." He rolled his head on to one side to look at me. "I thought of coming home for a while to put my mind at ease."

"Good." I moved closer to him, kissed his forehead. "Want me to run us a bath?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair. "A nice, hot, bubbly one?"

He laughed quietly, nodding. "That'd be great. Thank you." He tilted his face up, our lips meeting in a warm, soft kiss. I patted his chest, pulling away.

"Undress," I spoke against his mouth. "I'll get the bath ready."

A few minutes later, we were soaking in the big tub in the master bathroom, me lying in Dave's arms amid hot, soapy water. It was good to have him like that, skin against skin, hearts beating together in a rhythm. Dave's eyes were closed, his fingers absently drawing circles across my back. I stroked the dark smattering of hair on his chest, feeling all tiredness being washed away.

"We're getting married in two months," he suddenly spoke, breaking the quietness. "You nervous?"

"No." I stirred in his arms, smelled lavender when I inhaled deeply. "Are you?"

"About being married to you? No. About the wedding, yes."

I giggled. "You aren't going to forget your lines, are you?"

"I hope not." He breathed, shifting slightly. I looked up at his face, he looked down at mine. "But if you keep looking so beautiful all the time, I just might," he smiled, moving wet hair out of my face. I smiled shyly, kissed his chest.

"I love you," I whispered.

"Love you too, sweetheart. How are things?"

"Fine. Aaron's verdict's soon to be out. If found guilty, he might have to spend at least five years behind bars." I had no idea why I felt a lump in my throat. Not because I'd loved him someday but because our lives could have been so different had he got a better upbringing.

"It makes you sad?" He asked quietly. I shook my head.

"His parents were alcoholics," I said softly. "They knew nothing about parenting. There were so many other kids in the town. I don't think everyone turned out like he did." I looked up at him, my voice quivering. "If only he had a better childhood, things would be so different. I wouldn't be here, Aaron wouldn't be in prison, Amy wouldn't be alone and miserable..."

"Where would you be?" he asked, stroking my hair. I shrugged.

"Not sure, but definitely not going around with nine fingers for sure." I laughed sadly, pulling away from him and crawling over to the other end of the bath. I grabbed a sponge, scrubbed my arms with it. Dave watched me, his legs running up and down mine.

"I used to think I was too broken," I spoke quietly, my hands clutching the sponge between them. "But when I saw Amy in a similar situation like mine, I couldn't resist the urge to help her. I know I'd help her even if she didn't ask me."

"That's the strange thing about life," Dave said. "No matter how broken you might be, when someone cries out for help, you will find the strength to help."

I nodded, reaching out a hand. Dave crawled up to me, draping his body across mine. His mouth parted, taking me in hungrily. My hands grabbed his strong hips as we shared hot, openmouthed kisses, the soapy water making our bodies slide against each other. Dave held the back of my head with one hand, the other slipping down my bare body, grabbing my arse.

"Feeling okay?" I asked when we parted a little.

"Hard not to, with you around." He captured my mouth again, the wet sucking sounds filling the bathroom. I felt his hands travelling down south, and my lips parted on a soft moan, even as he nibbled on my neck. "I'm home tomorrow," he said, a little breathless from the kiss. "I want to take you dancing."

"Great," I smiled. "You'll sing?"

"I'll save that for our wedding," he chuckled. "I can't wait to share our first dance as husband and wife." A finger trailed down my cheek. "I'll have the most wonderful wife ever."