Down & Dirty (11 page)

As the dealer dealt another hand the man removed his glasses and leaned into the table to look at me with bright blue eyes. “My name is Bret. What’s your’s?”

“Carly.” I answered sitting back in my seat wondering what he wanted.

“You think you’re good?” He asked taunting me.

“I know I am, or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Want to make it interesting?”

“Depends on what you consider interesting.”

“Best of five hands. If you win, I’ll give you a Malibu beach house to use at your whim for one year. If I win, you spend the next week, twenty-four hours a day, with me. No strings attached. This is not about sex.”

I felt my eyebrows lift in interest. “What makes you think I want use of some strangers beach house?”

“You don’t?” He looked cocky now as he sat back. His tone and arrogance remind me of Joe.

“A change of scenery might be nice.” I thought out loud.

“Then we have a bet?” He asked.

“We have a bet.” Why not. It’s been five months and I haven’t heard one word from Joe. Unless he shows up this week, which is highly unlikely, he’ll never know. Maybe the distraction will do me good.

The dealer dealt the next hand. “Down and Dirty gentlemen, and lady.” He looked at me. “Good luck.”

I nodded focusing on the game. I won the first hand, he won the next two. I won the fourth hand and now I’m nervous. Shit. What if I lose? What if Joe comes back this week? What if he finds out afterwards when he finally does come back? Fuck it. Serves him right.

I won the last hand and felt myself relax. “Nice game Bret.”

He stood, shook my hand and handed me a business card. “Call my lawyer. I’ll fill him in. Give him your information and he’ll send you the keys. Nice meeting you Carly.” He turned away to leave.

“Can I at least buy you a drink?”

He turned back, lowered his glasses and smiled, “No thanks, you’ve been entertaining enough for one night.” He winked and left.

I looked at the dealer, “Well, that was interesting.”

“You just beat one of the best Poker players in Vegas little lady. Congratulations.”

“Really?”

“Yes ma’am.” He started to deal again but I waved him off.

“I think that’s enough for me tonight. Goodnight Charlie.”

“Goodnight miss Carly.” He seemed amused in a way I don’t understand. Oh well. I’m getting out of here.

10
 

I
called the lawyer expecting to get the run around. Instead the guy knew exactly what had happened, asked me for my address, and the next day I got a Fed-Ex package with keys, address, directions, and an alarm code with instructions and password in case I got it all messed up.

I packed up my apartment, paid the next months rent in case I get there and need to come right back, and hauled ass to Malibu.

Wow. Talk about money. This place is fancy. Even the homeless guy on the corner was dressed nicer than some of the locals back home.

It didn’t take long to find the big beach house since, well, it’s big. I parked the car, unlocked the door, punched in the alarm code, and walked in. If it was dark outside I might have needed lights, but the windows provided plenty light to see by in the middle of the afternoon.

The walls are a crisp white like the cloth couches and chairs. The pillows and decor focus on blues and yellows adding a cheerful quality. I snooped around finally finding the bar and the vodka. I’ll replace it tomorrow. Right now, I need a strong drink.

I opened the sliding door to the patio with a tumbler full of vodka on the rocks and inhaled the salt air. The sound of the waves crashing immediately reminded me of Joe because I remembered he was a Navy Seal. I fell to my knees to cry hard. It took me a couple minutes to right myself and sit on a chaise lounger to recover.

“Shit.” I took a good couple sips liking the burn of the expensive vodka. Joe and I have never been to the beach, but knowing he’s a Navy Seal and being this close to so much water immediately built a bridge between the two. I should have thought about this, but it never crossed my mind.

I watched the sun go down and thought a lot about Joe. Between the tears and the vodka I ended up sleeping outside that night. When I woke up to the sound of seagulls I kicked myself for my weakness and told myself it was time to move on. I buried Joe in the back of my mind and the bottom of my heart deciding it was time to get my shit together. Start a new day, and a new life.

I went inside and began familiarizing myself with the house and making a grocery list after a nice hot shower. By the time I settled in it was after lunch and I realized it was too quiet, so I turned on some music and pulled out my Kindle to read on the porch in my bathing suit to start working on my tan. Californian’s have tans. Maybe I’ll die my hair blonde to fit in. Nah. With my luck it’ll turn pink.

A while later I heard the doorbell ring and wondered who the hell that could be. Maybe it’s a friendly neighbor wanting to know who’s here.

I wrapped a robe around myself and opened the door. “Bret. What are you doing here?”

He pushed past me walking inside. “How do you like the place?”

“It’s nice, but you being here wasn’t part of the deal.” I closed the door and followed him inside.

“We need to talk.” He went to the fridge and pulled out a beer.

“About what?”

He took a drink as he pulled out his wallet and handed me a picture. “Recognize her?”

I took the picture and immediately sat on the closest chair. “Caroline.” It was a spitting image of me, but it wasn’t, it’s my twin. “Where is she?”

“Dead. She left me a widow two years ago. Took her own life.” He walked around the room.

“Why?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the picture.

“She had depression issues stemming from her past. I never knew the details. When I saw you in Vegas I knew I had to find out.”

“Did you lose that game on purpose?”

“No. I knew either way I’d have time to ask you what I needed to know.”

“You were her husband?”

“Yes. Married one year before she died. Overdosed on pills and Wild Turkey.”

“Shit.” I put the picture on the table unable to look at it now.

He sat across from me. “She never told me she had a sister, let alone a twin. When I saw you sitting at the Poker table I lost it. For two days I watched you wondering if she’d somehow faked her death to get away from me. Then we played and I knew it wasn’t her.”

“This is too much of a coincidence. How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

He pulled his wallet back out and set it on the table badge up. “I’m a deputy with the Nevada State police. I don’t get off on lying. When I ran your prints I found out who you both were. She lied to me and married me under a false name. I never knew my wife.”

“Wow. I’m sorry she did that, but I haven’t seen her since we were separated. I can’t help you.”

“I think you can. Tell me what happened. Why were you separated?”

“No. I’m not telling a perfect stranger that story. If she wanted you to know, she would have told you. I think you should leave. No, I’ll pack up and leave. This is just too weird.” I stood up to walk him out.

“What’s weird is walking into my usual casino, at my usual table, and finding the mirror image of my dead wife sitting there playing Poker. Sit down Carly. I’m not going to hurt you, but I will have my answers.” He sounded a little too much like Joe suddenly.

“Okay, now you’re freaking me out.” I paced.

“Why is that?”

“You sounded a lot like my…never mind.”

“Like the man who put that ring on your finger?” He asked nodding towards my hand.

I looked at the ring. “Yes.”

“Who is he? Your husband?”

“You could say that. He was called back into the military almost six months ago. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“I’m sorry. You must have loved him.”

“More than I ever thought possible.” I looked at him. “You really should go.”

“Not until I know why my wife never told me what happened to her as a child that ultimately took her life. You’re the only one with an explanation. I’m not leaving without it.” He insisted.

I sat on the couch. “If I tell you, will you leave?”

“Yes.”

I took a deep breath. “Fine.” I gave him the same story I’d told Joe, minus the part about what happened to me after we were separated.

He sat back waiting out the story before saying, “That’s one hell of a tale. The problem is, it doesn’t tell me a damn thing about what happened to her after you were separated.”

“Not my fault. I lost track of her.”

“What happened to you after?” He asked.

“Nothing I’m going to share with you. Time to leave.” I nodded towards the door.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“You can ask, doesn’t mean I’m going to oblige you.”

“I lost my wife too young. Seeing you makes me want to get to know her through you. Let me stay, like I said, no strings. I just want to talk to you, her. She kept so many things to herself.”

I sighed realizing being alone in this house was only asking for my own misery. How am I supposed to let Joe go if I’m alone with my memories of him all the time?

“You stay as a guest. I leave one year from today and we part ways. There’s not a chance in hell this will be anymore than a friendship. Got it?”

“Deal. It’s too creepy thinking of you that way. I loved my wife very much. No matter how many women I’ve had since then, none come close. I need a break, and to give myself time to mourn. I think once it sinks in that your sister has passed away, you’re going to want to mourn her too. Maybe I can help by telling you about her as I knew her.” He offered.

“Alright, you can stay, in the guest room. I did win the game after all.”

He smiled and I blinked. “Thank you Carly.”

I shook my head a little trying to clear my thoughts. Seeing Bret smile made me wonder what Joe would look like if he smiled. Would his smile consume his face like Bret’s does? I really have to stop thinking this way.

“You’re cooking.” I told him. Cooking for a man that is not Joe, is not going to happen.

“You got it.” He seemed to relax.

“What did you say?”

He repeated himself absently going to the kitchen.

I had to tell myself everybody says ‘you got it.’ Not just Joe. Stacy had said it right after he did the night we found Michelle. Then again, she was probably just echoing him.

The next couple weeks I got to know Bret pretty well. He’s kind of a comedian. Okay, he thinks he’s a comedian, and therefore makes me laugh, even when I think he’s an idiot.

He doesn’t hover, and leaves me alone when I go out every night to watch the sunset on the beach. I talk to Joe, pray for him, and mourn him. I need this time every day to purge the sadness, anger at him, and fear of what my life is going to be like without him. Even though I don’t know if he’s dead or alive, I still mourn him.

I heard Bret pull up so I went to open the door for him knowing he’d have groceries. “What did you do? Buy out the store?”

He smiled like he does, “I tried. They were out of your favorite wine, I think you drank it all.”

“Probably. I’ll live. What the hell did you get?”

He set the bags down and I saw the paper bag moving before he stuck his hand in and pulled out a flailing lobster, “Want to boil shellfish alive? You can pretend it’s Joe.” He knows I’m dealing with anger as much as the sadness.

I laughed, “Yes!!”

He dropped the lobster in the sink before it got him. “Tell me about Joe. Do you have a picture of him?” This is the first time he’s really asked. I didn’t think much of it because we’ve kind of run out of other subjects.

“He’s a good man. Big like you, but dark hair and long beard. I miss that beard. He used to wake me up tickling my neck with it every morning.” I took the bottle of wine he’d bought and opened it. “He loves fiercely, like he does everything.” I told him about the night we saved Michelle.

“Wow. Poor kid. Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. I turned my phone off the day I left.”

“How is Joe supposed to find you?”

“He has GPS on the Mercedes. If…when he wants to find me, he will.”

“Are you giving up on him?” He asked setting the second lobster in the sink. It had escaped and was halfway across the stove.

“No. But I am giving up on ever being happy again without him.”

“That’s too bad. Did you say he was a biker?” He asked casually.

“Yeah. His brother is the highest ranked President west of the Mississippi. Joe had just retired from the service when he came back to the club. He used to sit in on council meetings and stuff, but he didn’t seem to have a rank to speak of. I was still learning how all that shit worked when he was taken away.”

“Taken away?”

I described the helicopter and how I had to say goodbye to him.

“Sounds like something out of a movie.”

“I thought that too. Anyway, I tried to stick around for a couple weeks, but everything and everyone brought me to tears reminding me of him. So, I went to the noisiest city I could think of. The rest is history.” I sat with my wine to watch Bret cook, again. He’s quite good. He has good taste in wine too.

He held a lobster up over boiling water and looked at me, “Joe? Or Caroline?”

“You bought, you go first.” I laughed.

He lowered the lobster in and looked at it, “This is for the pain you caused me by not being strong enough to live for me.”

I got up and picked up the other lobster, “And this is for the pain you caused me, by leaving and not making me your first priority.” I dropped the poor guy in quickly.

“If Joe is alive, and I hope he is, he’s a stupid man for leaving you.”

I tapped my glass to his beer bottle. “Won’t argue that.”

We laughed and ate talking about anything but Caroline and Joe. It was nice.