Outside, a crow is cawing as I stare out at the sparkling blue kidney-shaped pool, backdropped by a vast desert landscape. It’s a staggering 104 degrees. Saguaro cactus and sagebrush dot the sprawling hills with patches of bright green. My eyes squint as I try to see over the blinding sunlight. Lilly is in the pool with her brother. I had been coerced into making a trip to the supermarket with Mary to buy her a swim vest, among other things: toothbrushes for both kids, diapers, baby bottles, and foods we would typically consume. The day’s swimming adventures are a welcome diversion from recent events.

Anthony’s mother, Mary, had been pleasant thus far, with no apparent intention of digging up our past troubles. She has offered to let us stay as long as we need, and for that I am most grateful. I can’t help but worry about Anthony, though. The thought of him being considered a suspect in Candace’s disappearance had crossed my mind several times.

“Mom, watch me!” I avert my gaze toward Adrian. He is about to jump into the pool and swim to the other side. He is so proud of himself. His sister is mesmerized as she floats in a tube on the pool shelf, an area of shallow water perfect for her to play in without me having to hold her. She hasn’t asked for Candace all day, which has been a huge relief. I fear that she may not last much longer, however. One can only give children so many distractions before they begin to realize that something is off.

“Awesome!” I praise Adrian. “You’re such a good swimmer!”

“I can teach Lilly!” he proclaims. He proceeds to swim toward her, grabbing her legs, plunging her down through the tube and into the water, her life vest barely keeping her above the waterline.

“Adrian, no!” I jolt up from the comfy lounge chair and enter the pool to stop him. “She’s too little. Let her play over here for now.”

“Dude!” he protests.

“Maybe when she’s a bit older, okay?”

Mary walks out in a big floppy sun hat. Ridiculously large sunglasses adorn her tiny face. “Are you aware that Anthony has returned?”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’ll watch my grandkids if you two need to talk.” She sprawls out on the lounge chair nearest mine and opens up a fashion magazine she has brought with her. I wonder if she will truly be keeping an eye on them, but against my better judgment I head inside the house to find Anthony.

He is standing over the kitchen island next to his father, Jim. They seem to be having a private conversation. I decide to step back and linger in the hallway so as not to be seen. I listen carefully, while remaining vigilant. Over the sound of the kids’ screams and giggles, I can barely make out their muffled conversation. Jim’s voice, hoarse and slurred with Irish intonation is easily discernible from Anthony’s. 

“What can you do?” Jim is reassuring him. “If it’s ‘yer money she’s after, she’s gonna have a hard time—“

“No, I think it’s more than that, Dad. You should have seen the way she looked at me that night. I think it’s jealousy…”

“Jealousy!? Noooo! A young girl like that? She could have plenty of men to choose from.”

“I think she’s the one. I’m telling you! She’s the one making threats.”

Their voices become even quieter now. I press my ears forward to listen more closely, but to no avail. Jim's footsteps can be heard, and they seem to be coming closer, but he stops suddenly, and it sounds like he is reaching for a bottle of something.

“I figure you could use a little of this to calm ‘yer nerves.”

“Oh, Dad…” Anthony is breathing heavily. “I’m a wreck,” he says. “I’m gonna need much more than a little.”

I hear the sounds of ice crackling and liquid pouring, then more mysterious whispering, followed by the clinking of glasses. My heart begins to thud in my chest. I am desperate to hear more of what they’re saying, but I hear the sliding door to the back yard opening, followed by little footsteps, and a frustrated Grandma. I dart back into the living room and make an effort to act as natural as possible. 

“Did you have a good time?” I ask the kids.

“They are ready to come back inside,” Mary responds. “Adrian keeps telling me he’s hungry. What does he normally eat at this time?”

I look up at the giant wooden clock placed ominously above the fireplace: 4:52.

“Well, it’s almost dinner time, so I think he should wait until then.”

She glances back at me like I’ve said something awful. I pause and wait for her to detest. 

“Surely, he can have a little something.” She scans Adrian’s little body with her twitching eyes. “He’s skin and bones, the poor child.”

Here it comes…

“You know when Anthony was his age, I let him eat whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He was always a good eater. Of course, Anthony had much more meat on his body.”

“He’s fine, Mary,” I blurted out defensively. “He can wait until dinner.”

I can sense her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she spins around and heads to the kitchen. She is tense in her rigor, her pace quickening with each step. 

“Adrian, come to Nana.” She is rummaging through the cabinets, and I cannot believe what I’m witnessing. I walk toward the kitchen to find Mary handing Adrian a chocolate biscotti, followed by Lilly scooting along the hard tile, her chubby little hands reaching out and clasping at the air. She desperately wants to be just like her brother and have whatever he has.

I am mortified by Mary’s lack of respect, but I swallow my anger. I don’t want to revisit our differences of the past. I struggle to direct my attention to Anthony instead. He is standing with one hand on the island, a tumbler of amber liquid in the other, with a tired smirk glued to his face as he watches me, waiting for me to anger, no doubt. 

I shake my head and decide to walk out. Now I remember why I can’t stand his family. I retreat to the guest room and lay down. I have so many questions now, but no clue how to go about getting them answered without stirring up a great deal of drama. 

Who is this young woman Anthony was referring to, the one supposedly after his money, or after him? Was he talking about Paula? I mean, Paula isn’t that young, is she?

A pounding headache takes hold, driving pulsing throbs deep beneath my temples.

Anthony enters the room, and I can instantly smell the Scotch whiskey on him from six feet away. 

“Whatcha doin’?” He lays down next to me on the bed. He is obviously drunk. I want to ask him hundreds of questions, but I know that now is not the time.

I decided to keep things light, instead. “How was your drive?”

“Yeah…Good. How was your day with the kids?”

“Good.”

He smiles out of nowhere, his pretty brown eyes illuminating for the first time in days. I catch myself melting in his presence. He has the power to possess me, and he knows it. 

He’s beautiful. I try to pull away, just barely managing to redirect my thoughts to the closet doors just beyond the foot of the bed. I examine the rectangular insets of each door, the black door knobs and hinges, and the wood grain flowing infinitely into cyclic rivers…I feel ridiculously nervous when he looks at me like this.

His hand places gently on my stomach. He swirls his fingers around in soft circles, giving me chills that I don’t want to give into. He is still staring lovingly, waiting for me to look back at him – to lock eyes once again, hoping to lure me in just a little longer in order to cast his spell. I suddenly realize that I’ve been holding my breath, and I have to sit up to catch it.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“I’m very worried about everything. I’m sorry.”

His warm hand comes up to my cheek, and he turns my face gently to meet his. Before I can react, his lips are on mine. His kiss begins soft and tender, slowly caressing firmer and deeper, until his tongue enters my mouth, the sweet taste of whisky, warm and tingly as it reaches my tastebuds.

I am flooded with emotion. I want to push him off the bed, to make him suffer and feel all of the things he made me feel. I want to slap him, and scream, and kick him in the ribs so hard that he coughs up blood. 

What is he doing to me??

His hands venture down to my lower back, and he digs his fingers in, pulling my body closer to his. I am powerless. I don’t have the mental strength to resist, and he can sense this resignation. He is unzipping my shorts with haste, his tongue still thrusting between my lips. He is rock hard beneath his jeans, that much is obvious. He positions his body over mine, grinding against me slowly, making a deliberate effort to make me aware of his presence.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, and we stop dead in our tracks to listen.

“Do you like Thai food, because there’s this really good place right when you get into town? I think it’s called ‘The Thai Guys,’ or maybe it’s ‘Thai Guy,’ or I don’t know, bullocks! I can’t remember, but anywho, what do you think? Are you feeling hungry at all? I know the kids are. I’m not sure what they’re gunna eat, though. It could be a little spicy for them. Anthony, do you think that’s a good idea? Hello?”

Anthony begins to respond. “Ya—“

“Or actually, I think it’s called ‘Two Thai Guys.’ What would you want from there if I place an order for pick up? Maybe you could think about it, and just let me know in about five minutes. I was just gunna have your father pop over there to get it.”

“Okay, Mom. That sounds great. Just give me a minute. I’m changing my clothes.”

“Oh, yeah you got it. The kids are fine. Just take your time. Is Laura in there with you?”

Anthony looks at me with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, she’s here.”

There’s a long pause behind the door.

“Oh…well, okay then.”

Silence.

We wait awkwardly to listen for the sound of footsteps, signaling she has left, but we don’t. Anthony gets up and opens the door slightly to check. 

…Lo and behold, she’s still standing there!

My jaw clenches in anger. I’m trying desperately to not lose my shit. Anthony whispers something inaudible to her, and I can hear the protest in her voice as she whispers something back in a rather harsh manner.

“Mom, please! I know what I’m doing.” Anthony raises his voice abruptly. “Could you give me some privacy now?”

She slips away slowly, and Anthony shuts the door, making sure to lock it this time.

When he comes back to me, I’ve completely lost my desire. He caresses my stomach once again, swirling his fingertips into soft steady circles. His hand slides stealthily beneath my panties to touch me softly, but my mind is elsewhere. He knows it, and has decided to take another approach. 

He hoists himself higher to plant passionate kisses between my lips once again. His tongue feels soft and gentle against mine, and before long I have returned to my state of yearning. He strips off his clothing, revealing his beautifully chiseled abs, and soft olive complexion. His skin is glistening and radiant, his body firm and incredibly enticing.

The world fades away. I am no longer listening for the sound of Mary’s footsteps, the giggles of the children, or Jim’s hoarse voice as he murmurs random remarks.

I am completely submerged in this moment with the man I loathe so deeply, simply surrendering to the weakest version of myself, knowing full well of the consequences I may have to face. 

He takes me by my thighs and slides me beneath him with one swift movement. Then he lifts my hands above my head and holds them there, bound by his tight grip. I flinch, and he remembers my injured wrist, thus deciding instead, that he will be much more gentle. With his body poised above mine – warm, strong, and dominating, he eases himself inside me slowly. It’s a feeling I had almost forgotten, yet it’s so welcoming, that I can’t help but call out in ecstasy. 

We become a vessel of abundant rhythmic energy, the pleasure taking over and consuming every fiber of our beings. He is slow and steady. Somehow he knows that I haven’t made love since the last time he and I were together, and he is very mindful of this. As we writhe and grind against one another, the intensity builds, and I reach climax like I haven’t felt in years. 

Memories of the closeness we once shared come flooding back, and in that moment, all negative thoughts of him are instantly dissolved. We lay together in the hot steamy aftermath, his body wrapped over mine with my legs tucked between his. In a perfect world, I would want this moment to last forever…

Knock, knock, knock!

“Have you guys decided what you’d like to order?”