MAUREEN
I drag Phillip out to the beach. I want to be outside, under the stars, like the first time we were together. Out there, it might be easier to convince him to help me. To believe.
I have to hold his hand as we walk, keep him upright, and halfway there I almost give up. He brought the bottle of wine with him, despite my protests, and when he’s not swigging freely he’s singing some old folk song.
He finally collapses right after the dunes, closer to the house than I would’ve liked, but it will do. I sit next to him, help him roll up his khakis.
“There, this is nice,” I say. “Just like that first night, yes?”
“Just like it,” he slurs.
“I like full circles, you know? End where you start.”
“So this is the end?”
I stare at him, surprised. “Of course. Isn’t that what you said? Our last night together?”
He sighs, leans back on his elbows and pushes his toes through the sand. He seems too big, too burly for the sand, like a tiger trying to use a litterbox. “I suppose so. All good things must come to an end.”
“So we have to say goodbye, for this summer,” I sing quietly, and he laughs, tells me I’ve messed up the lyrics. But he wants me to keep singing, says he loves my voice. I do, and then nuzzle against his shoulder. I’m afraid he’s going to fall asleep on me.
“Phillip?”
He makes a gurgling sound. I shake him a bit.
“Phillip? Don’t go to sleep on me. I need a favor. I need to tell you something.”
“What’s that?” He’s drifting. This isn’t how I wanted things to go.
“Phillip, I need help.”
He shakes his head and sits up, wiping sand from his hands. “Not the poker thing again, Maureen.”
“No, no. Look at me. Look. Here. See? Me?” I take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
That gets his attention. “You’re what?”
“I’m having a baby. Your baby, Phillip.”
He stares at me for a second through drunken eyes, and I think I see them tear up. I imagine if all this were true, what might actually happen, where we might end up. And then he shifts in the moonlight. Still woozy, drunk. But his face is hard. “My baby?” he growls dismissively. “Yeah, right.”
“It’s yours, Phillip. It can’t be anyone else’s.”
“Oh, I’ll believe that when you can sell me a flying pig.” He knocks my hand off his arm. “Don’t go trying to pin this one on me.”
I blink. It’s as if he’s taken off a mask, allowing me to see the ugliness inside, what he really thinks of me. My eyes are pricking with tears, but I push through it all. “It’s okay. I’m not trying to pin anything on you, Phillip. I love you, but I can’t have a baby. We can’t have a baby. Not now.” I bite the inside of my lip, taste the metallic spurt of blood. “I just need—I need some money. That’s all. And I’ll take care of it. No one will ever know.”
He tries to get up, but he’s so drunk he just falls over in the sand and snorts. I am grateful that there is no child in my womb that might one day have to see this display. “Yeah, you’ll take care of it. Go ask some of the other men you’re with, won’t you? Go see if they’ll help you. How about my son?” he asks, rolling over, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Or my brother? Huh?”
“You know I never—”
“Or who else? I know your type, Maureen. Look, this was fun, but...” He rubs his eyes. “Just leave me alone. Just...go.” He lays back, rolls over. Doesn’t move.
“Get up,” I say. I shake him, but he’s gone, a slight snore coming from his lips. I push harder, yank on his shirt, but he’s out. I stand, about to turn to leave, but then kneel down, find his wallet in his pocket. Count it quickly—$207. I shove the bills in my purse and throw the empty wallet on top of him. My parting gift. I stomp up the dunes, blinded by tears of frustration.
I don’t get even halfway up the first dune when my knees buckle out from under me. I’m falling, and it’s then that I register something has hit me, hard, on the back of my head. I reach up, my arms flailing as I go down. Where my hair should be, I feel only wet, sticky. I cry out, horrified, when I feel another blow on the side of my head. The sand is in my mouth, my hair, gritting into the tears on my face.
I roll over. There’s a shadow. It’s Phillip, then Zeke, then Benny, then Desmond. All leering at me. Laughing. Help, I try to say. I feel nothing now, but I know the pain is coming.
The shadow moves away, and all I see is the black sky. The beautiful sky. It’s like that first night here in Opal Beach. Destiny. My destiny. Then the streaks begin. The meteor shower. Millions of stars, exploding, dancing, their light so very far away. It’s beautiful. Phillip, do you see it? Just beautiful. Just—