Eight Days in the Sun Page 26

I laugh and kiss his cheek. “Yeah, so I noticed. By the way, I love the sculpture.”

  “It’s nowhere near done.”

  “I can see what it will be, though.”

  “Does that mean you’ll pose for me some more?”

  “Only if we can take breaks and…stretch.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, whenever you need it.” His expression turns sober. “Seriously, Kiran, I want you to know no one will ever see this sculpture. It’s just for me.”

  “It’s turning out beautiful. I wouldn’t mind if you showed it.”

  “I mind. There are some things I refuse to share. This piece of art and this moment with you is at the top of that list. It’s just between us.”

  “I understand, but what about your other pieces? You have so much talent. People should see your work.”

  He twirls a strand of my hair. “Maybe one day.”

  Chapter 35

  Mason

  We finished the sculpture yesterday. We celebrated with a bottle of wine, which we then lapped off each other’s bodies until we were good and drunk. It’s the best piece I’ve ever done, probably because it was so personal and intimate. I didn’t just want to sculpt her figure. I wanted to recreate what I had been craving in my head, my hands, and my heart. Now I will have the memory of her in tangible form. In hindsight, I’m not sure if it was the best idea. After all, I’m just layering salt on a wound that won’t heal.

  Dana’s coming home tomorrow. I’m relieved she’s safe. I can’t wait to see my sister and hear all the details about her adventures in Antarctica. She e-mailed both Kiran and I quite often, but I won’t relax until she’s home.

  It’s the most bittersweet feeling. Dana’s arrival marks the end of my time with Kiran. I struggle not to think about that.

  Kiran, Molly, and I lie in the backyard on a bed of jasmine and orange blossoms. They fall on us like heady raindrops. Kiran suggested we go to the track at the high school today. I was reluctant until my second pass. I ran outside for the first time in almost a year with Molly right beside me. Kiran kept pace with us too. Well, at least once I slowed down, she did. The three of us ran past the point of exhaustion. The burn in my muscles feels so fucking good. The treadmill and weights have kept me in shape, but there is something about running in the open air that’s both freeing and cleansing.

  Kiran and I took a long, much-needed shower. We took our time, scrubbing each other clean, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. Now, I’m here, lying beside her, the sound of a ticking clock fucking with my head. I feel differently than that first day she showed up at this very spot. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot rid myself of her father’s warnings. They replay in my head causing all my insecurities to surface. What can I possibly offer her except a life of hardship?

  She’s been fiddling with my cell phone for a good fifteen minutes. “What are you doing?”

  “Checking out your audible list. You have so many books on here.”

  “I’ve always loved to read.” I gesture to my eyes. “Since this, it’s my favorite form of entertainment right next to radio broadcasts of Dallas Cowboy games.”

  “Your tastes have changed. I did not expect to find Pride and Prejudice in your library.”

  “Yeah, well, I thought it might be decent, considering how you changed Mrs. Water’s mind.”

  “Was it?”

  “Not really my thing. I get why it appeals to you, though. You’re hopelessly romantic, you know that?”

  “I prefer to call myself a dreamer.” A button dings, signaling I have a new message.

  “New Message from ICE Dana. Would you like me to read it to you?” the automated voice asks.

  “No,” I reply.

  “Why ICE Dana?” Kiran asks.

  “Emergency contact.”

  “Oh, gotcha.”

  “What does it say?”

  “She’s confirming she’ll be home tomorrow.” Her voice has sorrow. It matches how I feel.

  We’re at a crossroads once more. Only this time, I have no idea what the right direction is. “Do me a favor and text her back. Tell her I can’t wait to see her and wish her safe travels. Then talk about something else.”

  “What else is there to talk about?”

  “Anything, Kiran. Just talk to me.”

  “Will you be my date to Sidney’s wedding? It’s November 5th.”

  “I’m not exactly comfortable getting on a plane yet.”

  “We can travel together. Maybe make it a road trip?” Her voice is hopeful. I want to say yes, not just to the wedding, but everything. Yet, I can’t.

  “I don’t think so, Kirin.”

  “Okay.”

  “New e-mail from Kiran. Would you like me to read it?” the automated voice asked.

  “You sent me an e-mail?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice is high, but I can read the disappointment in that single word. “Did I tell you I went to India?”

  Well, that’s a change of subject, but I’ll go with it because I can’t handle getting into all the fucked-up stuff I’m trying to work through. Plus, I’m curious about her trip. “No. When did you go?”

  “Over the summer last year.”

  “With your dad?”

  “By myself actually. Even though I couldn’t see the North Star, I kept thinking I was close to where you were. Was I?”

  “You were. I was in Kabul.”

  “Only one country away. I would have backpacked across Pakistan if it meant I could see you.”

  Everything inside of me strains at the thought. Nothing about her statement is comforting. It’s ten times worse than watching her fall through the sky at thirty thousand feet. “I’m grateful you didn’t know then.”

  “Did you think about me too?”

  Only with every breath, baby. “All the time, Kiran. Tell me more about your trip.”

  Her body releases tension as though she held her breath on my answer. I want to tell her the truth. How I started and ended my days staring at her photo. How the other guys in my unit gave me shit when I told them I had a girl waiting back home for me. She doesn’t know it, but she was with me the whole time, through every freezing cold, lonely night and every hellish hundred-degree day.

  “I visited with all my relatives. The last few days, I went to Goa. It’s a beach city off the Arabian Sea.”

  “Did you surf?”

  “I did. The waves were really intense.”

  “Sounds like a good time.”

  “Not really. It was beautiful there, but I couldn’t appreciate the surroundings.”

  “Why not?”

  “It reminded me of our eight days. Anyway, I did stop at this gallery. I even met the artist.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes. His name is Liam Montgomery.”

  “Sounds familiar.”

  “He used to be part owner of the Wilshire hotel chain before he sold his share. He’s a billionaire, but he was so down to earth. His paintings are mesmerizing. He’s made a real name for himself in the art community.”

  Is there a reason she’s talking up another man to me? “Good for him.”

  She pries my fingers loose from my clenched hand. When did I make a fist? Must have been sometime between billionaire and mesmerizing.

  “He’s happily married, Mason. I also met his wife, Mary. She was lovely. Anyway, I kept in touch with them. I sent him a few pics of your sculptures.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Are you angry?”

  “You should have asked me.”

  “You’re right, but I didn’t want to take the risk. I was trying to help.”

  “Help me how?”

  “He’s a professional, and he collects art too. I don’t know if you believe me when I tell you how talented you are, but maybe you would believe him.” She squeezes my arm. “He loved them, Mason. In fact, he sent the pictures to his agent. She’s in New York. Liam says
she’s interested. She wants to set up a meeting with you. That’s the e-mail I forwarded.”

  “What kind of meeting?”

  “To discuss representation.”

  “So I can make money from my art?”

  “If that’s what you want. I think you’d be successful.”

  “Who says that’s what I want?”

  “You don’t have to go commercial. There are other options, but I just thought it might be an opportunity to get your work out there. I realize this is your passion, and it’s a personal choice. But you should at least talk to her. She has connections with museums too. Will you call her?”

  “Why? So you can tell your father I’m an artist now? Will that make me a little more appealing?”

  “What does this have to do with my father?”

  “Come off it, girl. We both know I’m not rolling in capital. And well, your family’s pretty well-off. I’m not the kind of guy you bring home to dinner.” Especially considering she’d have to lead me to the fucking dinner table.

  Kiran sits up. It feels colder suddenly. “You’re being a dick. Is there anything I’ve ever done or said that makes you think I’m motivated by money? Is there?” Her voice chokes, each word heavy with hurt.

  I hate myself for it. “Then why did you do it?”

  “For you, you asshole. I thought people should get the privilege of seeing your work.”

  “Yeah, maybe I can stand outside in sunglasses carrying a tin cup, and as the people flock into my exhibits, they can throw a few coins my way. Come one, come all, and see the blind man sculpt.” I say this last line with the cadence of a circus director.

  “I never told him you were blind, Mason.”

  I can be a real ass sometimes. “Kiran—”

  She covers my mouth with her hand. “It’s okay. Just promise me you’ll give it some thought.”

  “Can we change the subject?”

  “If you wish.” She places my phone on my chest. “I updated your contacts too. You have my information now. Is that okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

  “I wasn’t sure since you won’t talk about the future.”

  “That’s not true. It hasn’t come up.”

  “Seriously?” Her laugh is so sad it makes me wince. “You won’t even commit to taking me to a wedding, let alone acknowledge the fact Dana is coming home tomorrow. What am I supposed to do here, Mason? Tell me because I have no fucking idea. Should I book my ticket? Will you stay in my life? Or are you going to end us and send me away again? Answer me.” She slaps my chest. “Just answer one of my fucking questions at least.”

  I grab her wrists. “What the hell do you want from me?”

  “I want you to fight for me. For us. I love you, but you make this so hard.”

  “Then you should know better.”

  “It isn’t hard because you’re blind, Mason. It’s hard because I love you so much and I can’t stand to see you in pain. And it’s hard because I’m still angry with you. I can’t even express that to you without feeling like it’s a dick move.”

  “Angry? Fucking express it, Shenoy. Don’t hold back.”

  “Okay. I’m royally pissed. I understand you thought you were protecting me on some level, but all you did was hurt me.”

  “A few days of hurt is better than a lifetime of—”

  “Shut up. You said something along these lines about five year ago. It wasn’t true then, and it’s not true now. A few days? Are you really this clueless? You think I would have gotten over you in a few days? You stupid, stupid, boy. I didn’t get over you in five full years.”

  “I did what I thought was right.”

  “That’s the saddest part, baby. It was so wrong.”

  “I wasn’t going to show up there like this. You didn’t sign up for this, Kiran.”

  “I signed up for you, Cutler. We pledged to show up as long as the feelings were still there. You reneged on our deal.”

  “You’re still the same girl, Kiran. I know you think with your heart first and your head last.”

  “Shut up! You don’t know a damn thing. You didn’t even give me a choice, did you? You stole it from me. I swear, Mason, if you do it again, I won’t forgive you this time.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you forgave me the first time.”

  “I haven’t. Not yet. But you don’t get any more free passes from me, Mason. When you found me, I needed a friend the most. I never imagined someone like you. I always thought I was two girls. The one before the accident and the one after. I let that tragedy define and make my choices for so many years. You helped me realize that.”

  “You did all that on your own, Kiran.”

  She must not hear me because she just keeps going. The words come out with such emotion, I struggle not to hold her. “And somewhere along the way, I gave my heart to you. Years later, I tried my best to give it to someone else, but I realized it isn’t mine to give. It already belonged to you.”

  “This is why you’re angry?”

  “No, you idiot. I’m angry because you put me through hell. I had no idea if you were safe. I watched every single newscast and, trust me, there are a lot of them on twenty-four-hour news cycles. The whole time I prayed I wouldn’t see your face next to the word casualty. When I got to the hotel, I was full of fear and hope. You didn’t show up for me, Mason. All you had to do was show up. Instead, you left me there all by myself. You broke our pact. Not only that, you lied to me. You told me there was someone else. Do you have any idea what that was like? What if I’d done that to you?”

  I can’t even turn those tables and conceive what I’d go through waiting for her at the hotel, only to get a letter full of lies. “I thought it would be easier.”

  “Easier? I hope to God your hard head can comprehend what I’m trying to explain to you. I love you. That means your hurt is my hurt. You didn’t allow me to be there for you. You’re not even allowing it now.”

  “I can barely make it through the day, and you’re asking me to plan a life with you? What kind of future would we have?” Walls are closing in on me. I can’t rationalize anything. There is just too much fucking chaos for me to control.

  “A beautiful one, full of sunny days and happiness.”

  I swallow back the aching lump in my throat. Hold it together, Cutler. “I can’t dream with you anymore, Kiran. It’s not as easy as walking off in the sunset hand in hand.”

  “I never said we wouldn’t have struggles. We can work through them…together. But right now, I want you to quit making decisions that don’t belong to you. If you love me, fight for me, Mason. Fight for us.”

  This is the thing about Kiran. The thing it only took me a few days to figure out. She is a fighter. She loves with everything she has. This girl wears her heart on her sleeve in every fucking way.

  I do not. “I’m sorry, Kiran.”

  “Why does your sorry sound so much like a good-bye?”

  “Because it is.”

  Ever hear the sound of a single tear roll down someone’s face? Someone you love with all your heart? I have. Twice now. It’s gotta be the most awful sound in the whole fucking world.

  Chapter 36

  Mason

  The road to misery is paved with good intentions. It’s been forty-one days, six hours, and fifty-two minutes since Kiran left. She didn’t even say good-bye. Well, she did to Molly, but not to me. She went to the hotel the night of our fight. She met Dana at the airport the next day. I only know that because Dana told me, although she refuses to offer any details of their conversation. Dana is beyond pissed at me. Even Molly, who continues to do her job with total professional efficiency, doesn’t seem all that happy with her master. Not even when I offer her a cut of my steak. No sir, all the women in my life think I’m a jerk.

  I keep busy so the days don’t seem endless. I make it a point to go to the track and run every morning at least ten miles. In the evenings,
I weed around Gram’s jasmine shrub, trying to rip prickly thorns out of the ground. I’ve neglected it for so long I’m pretty sure it’ll die soon. I take my therapy sessions more seriously now. I finally accept that I have PTSD, something I denied since the beginning. I talk about Kiran to Dr. Green, a former Marine himself. He reiterates the same stuff he’s always telling me about negative coping, but I pay attention this time. Negative coping is using quick fixes that make a situation worse. Symptoms include avoidance, always being on guard, and pushing people away. The definition fits like a glove.

  So I do some hard thinking and even harder work.

  I put my nose to the grindstone and find myself a job. It’s been a challenge adjusting to civilian life, but having a set schedule helps. I work as many hours as they give me. I’d offer to work for free if they’d let me.

  The only thing I don’t do is go to the shed. It’s funny, the very thing that helped me cope now drives me crazy. My head can’t focus, and my hands won’t cooperate either.

  Eventually, I start returning calls from my military brothers. They welcome me back into the fold with fist bumps, ice-cold beers, and Friday night football. And something else I can’t quite name. It’s more than friendship and a different kind of brotherhood bound by something even deeper than blood. I’ve been through hell with them.

  The guys in my unit are another family. We swore allegiance to each other once, and I managed to push them out of my life. Kiran isn’t the only one I abandoned. Tonight, we’re all hanging around a dive bar in Charlotte. The kind of place a guy can adequately drown his sorrows. Hell, what am I thinking? I could consume an ocean of liquor and it wouldn’t be enough.

  “Whatever happened to the girl, Cutler?” Gunner asks.

  We hit on just about every other topic. I should have been more prepared for this landmine.

  “The girl?” I ask, going for nonchalance. It’s a fail.

  “Stop fucking around. You know who I’m talking about. The girl whose picture you taped to the top bunk so you could stare at her every night.”

  “Yeah, the five-year plan,” Cankles adds. His real name is Richard. But he got cranky during long drills and whined about his ankles. Rule of thumb in the Marines, no one likes a whiner. You end up with a nickname like Cankles. The name stuck.