Hemingway's Girl (27 page)

“I’m sure he does.”

“And more important, I don’t love him.”

“Then what is it?”

Mariella poked the fire with a stick and felt the heat seeping off its embers and
warming her. She thought of Papa on the boat, tanned and windblown. She thought of
him hopping into his car or sitting at the bar at Sloppy’s, holding court.

“I’m drawn to him,” she said. “He’s like a character from one of his books. He demands
attention.”

“It’s the celebrity,” said Gavin.

“It’s more than that. It’s his whole lifestyle. You know; you’ve met him.”

“Yeah, I do know what you mean,” said Gavin. “I feel good when he gives me the time
of day. Like I’m part of his mob.”

Mariella didn’t want to talk about Papa with Gavin anymore. “Enough about him,” she
said.

“Yeah, I don’t want to talk about him while I’m on a date with you.”

Gavin pulled Mariella back on the blanket and began to kiss her. She lifted her leg
and let it rest over his body. He ran his hands over her, and she reached up and felt
his chest. His heart was pounding. He pulled back and looked at her.

“I don’t know if this was a good idea,” he said.

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes.”

Mariella’s brow creased with a sudden uncertainty. He ran his hand down her neck and
onto her collarbone, and then kissed her there.

“I don’t know if I can stop,” he mumbled into her chest. She let the air out of it,
relieved that there wasn’t a problem with her, and ran her hands over his hair.

“I don’t know if I can, either,” she said.

He groaned. “You’re supposed to be the strong one here.”

She laughed and kissed his neck. “You’re clouding my judgment!”

He turned her over on her back. She felt a catch at her heart, and a mixture of fear
and longing. She knew that they couldn’t—not yet. She didn’t want to end up like her
mother. He’d been kissing her hard, but must have felt her stiffen. He kissed her
more softly, then stopped and rested his head on his hand.

“This isn’t the right time,” he said, as he traced the outline of her face. She reached
for his hand and kissed his fingertips.

“No,” she said. “But not because every inch of my body doesn’t want to.”

“I know,” he said.

He rolled off her and onto his back, letting out a deep sigh. They both lay looking
up at the stars. Their hands fell together on the blanket between them.

Mariella sulked.

It was the third straight day of rain. She felt like a caged animal in the small house
listening to her mother play Ponce’s
Suite
over and over again on this day, her father’s birthday. No one mentioned it out loud,
but his absence took up more space than if he’d actually been there. It didn’t help
that Lulu was getting over another bout of fever and stomach troubles, which left
Mariella second-guessing her decision to go to Bimini. Or that they ran out of cigarettes.
Or that Mariella felt guilty for not visiting John in days. Mariella thought she’d
go mad when her mother started the record over again, so she opened the screen door
and sat on the porch.

Small rivers of water had formed on either side of the road, washing up into the front
yard and turning it into a great, sopping mud puddle. She felt Gavin’s letter in her
pocket poke her side, and pulled it out to reread it, missing him acutely and moody
about his words.

I wish I could be happy for you, but the thought of being separated from you while
you’re on the beach with him all day and night for weeks on end makes me miserable.
I wish I knew if I could join you, but I’m afraid I won’t know until the time gets
closer, and it’s not looking good, since we need to finish our stretch of road before
hurricane season….

Mariella shoved the letter back in its envelope, put it in her pocket, and rubbed
her eyes. A dribble of water hit her on the ear and slid down to wet her shirt. She
moved to a drier spot on the porch, determined to stay outside, avoiding her mother’s
grief and the memories of her father.

Even before today, it had been a tough week. Papa had already left for Bimini on board
the
Pilar
, and the house felt dead without him. His gunshot wounds were superficial, so he’d
healed quickly. He had made amends to Katy and was able to charm her back to loving
him, as he could anyone. Knowing it would be a while before she could see Papa again
left Mariella cold and disappointed.

Pauline had to travel to St. Louis to pick up Ernest’s oldest son, Jack—or “Bumby,”
as he was nicknamed—where he was spending his summer vacation with Ernest’s former
in-laws, and then wait for Jinny to arrive in Key West before taking them all over
to Bimini. Mariella’s sense of adventure was piqued at the thought of taking her first
airplane flight to a primitive island to live with the Hemingways. She was both eager
to go and anxious about leaving.

She turned her mind back to Gavin and felt the real ache of missing him. The time
they’d spent together on her birthday meant a lot to her, and she was afraid that
all the progress they’d made would fade over the weeks of their separation.

The sound of footsteps splashing in the rain drew her out of her thoughts. She stood
and looked down the road in the direction she had heard the noise, but couldn’t see
anything through the sheets of rain. Finally a figure came into view moving toward
her house.

Gavin!

He ran up to the porch—his military T-shirt and shorts stuck to his body—and picked
Mariella up, swinging her around and
soaking her. She laughed and swatted at him to put her down. Then she held his wet
face in her hands for a moment and kissed him.

“My God, I’ve missed you,” she said.

“I know; it’s been awful,” he said.

“Why are you out running in the rain?”

“I had to see you.”

She grinned and kissed him again, reveling in the surprise of his presence.

Suddenly the music inside the house stopped. Mariella pulled away.

“Mari,” called her mother.
“¿Quién está ahí?”

The warmth in her body from Gavin’s kiss vanished and she felt her nerves start to
jump. The last time Eva had met Gavin she’d been a harried maniac. Mariella’s instinct
was to shoo him away. Her relationship with Eva was improving and they were learning
to communicate better, but Mariella still wasn’t confident in Eva’s stability and
didn’t want any setbacks.

“Are you worried she isn’t up for it yet?” he whispered.

She was worried, but she was also aware that Eva might surprise her. She had to give
her a chance. Mariella looked over her shoulder into the house and felt her confidence
return. It was now or never.

“Let’s find out,” said Mariella.

Mariella led Gavin into the house by the hand. Eva stood by her chair and, when she
saw Gavin, looked down at her feet and wrung her hands. Mariella knew Eva must feel
embarrassed for how she’d behaved when they first met. Lulu saved the awkward moment
by leaping into Gavin’s arms. He grunted and laughed. “Whoa, Lu!”

Eva watched for a moment, her eyes darting back and forth from Gavin to Mariella to
Lulu. Mariella saw Eva take a deep breath and walk over to Gavin with her hand extended.
He held
on to Lulu with one arm and reached for Eva’s hand with the other.

“Let me start over with you,” said Eva. “I’m sorry for the first time we met.”

Gavin shook his head and placed Lulu gently on the ground. “No, I’m the one who should
have apologized. I should have introduced myself properly before taking the girls
to the beach.”

“You tried,” said Mariella. “It was my fault.”

“No more apologies,” said Eva. “It’s nice to meet you. My girls love you, so I’m sure
I will, too.”

Mariella felt relief wash over her.

“I’m actually here on a mission,” said Gavin, unable to contain his grin. “John and
I would like you girls to join us for dinner tonight, since it’s Mariella’s last night
before she leaves for Bimini.”

A smile crossed Eva’s face, and Mariella felt her approval. It thrilled her.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, we would love to,” said Eva. “May I bring something?”

“No, just yourselves.”

“I’ll make a pie,” said Eva.

Mariella looked at her mother with surprise. She couldn’t remember Eva ever making
pie.

“That’s great,” said Gavin. “Now I’d better get home and make myself presentable.”

And almost as fast as he’d come, he was gone.

Though she was excited about dinner, Mariella felt uneasy. She hoped her mother wouldn’t
regret saying yes. She worried about how the girls would respond to John and his missing
legs. It felt too good to be true, and she prayed they could have a peaceful night.

Gavin wiped the sweat from his forehead and cursed as he cleaned up the second beer
he’d dropped on the floor. The rain had miraculously stopped, but it left sticky,
humid air that felt almost as wet as the rain itself.

“Relax,” said John as he wheeled to the door. “You said she was nice.”

“I just want to make a good impression,” said Gavin. “Mariella says her mother’s up
and down with her emotions. On the beach, she was definitely down. I don’t want to
see that again.”

“Well, keep spilling beer all over the place. It’ll make a real nice impression if
it smells like Sloppy Joe’s in here.”

Gavin glared at him over the shards of glass. John grinned and threw him a towel hanging
from a knob on a nearby cabinet. He wheeled back to the living room to watch for the
girls.

Gavin wrung out the soaked towel in the sink and washed his hands. The water on the
stove started hissing and boiling over.

“Shit!” He crossed the kitchen and turned down the water. Once he got the potatoes
in without incident, he opened another beer and drained half of it in one long gulp.

“They’re here,” called John.

Gavin felt his heart pound and ran out to the front hall to look out the screen. The
sight of all of them—dark, pretty, and laughing—made him smile. He looked down at
John and saw he was smiling, too.

Before Gavin could hold him back, Mutt pushed through them and out the screen door.
Lulu was carrying the pie, and sure enough, the dog jumped on her and caused her to
drop it. She began to cry. John wheeled down the ramp after the dog. Lulu stopped
crying when she saw him. He spoke sternly to Mutt, who’d begun eating the pie, and
the dog hung its head and licked Lulu. She laughed when she saw that his nose was
covered with pie.

“I’m sorry, Miss Lulu,” said John. “He can’t help himself.”

“You know my name,” she said.

“Of course I do,” he said. “Mariella and Gavin have told me all about you and Estelle,
and your mom.”

“And you still invited me to dinner?” said Eva.

John looked up at her and smiled. “I’ve only heard good things.”

Eva beamed back at him.

John turned back to Lulu. “Would you like a ride?”

She looked at his legs. “Will I hurt you?”

He laughed. “No, but thanks for checking.” He opened his arms and Lulu climbed up.
Mariella stepped behind the chair to push them, since John’s arms were full.

“Hold on tight,” she said, and zoomed them across the front yard and up the ramp to
the house. Gavin held the door open, and Mariella kissed him as she walked through
the doorway. He opened his eyes wide at her as if to say,
Your mother!
but she just laughed and walked into the house. Estelle followed Mariella, smiling
shyly at Gavin as she walked by. Eva was the last in the door.

“I’m so glad you could come, Mrs. Bennet,” said Gavin.

“Call me Eva,” she said. She reached for his hands and took them in hers. “Thank you
for having us.”

Gavin watched Eva enter the living room, and was struck by her warmth and beauty.
Her hair was loose around her face and wavy from the humidity. Her features were softened
by the smile that played at her lips. She wore makeup, and her black dress was pressed
and flattered her small frame. It was amazing to see her transformation from the woman
wild-eyed with depression and anger on the beach. He relaxed for the first time all
day and closed the front door.