17

Hannah

June 2018

Hannah was drinking too much. Two vodka sodas already, and the red wine Mako had served with dinner was going down fast, her glass almost empty. What was it? Liquor to wine, you’ll be fine? She hoped that was true. She hadn’t had this much to drink since Gigi had been born, and not for ages before. And had she seen on the printed itinerary left on their king bed that there was someone picking them up early for a hiking excursion? Had it said 7:00 a.m.?

She felt warm, her cheeks flushed. Bruce had knocked back a couple of bourbons and he was relaxed and easy, all the tensions he was carrying seemed to have vanished. She’d let herself surrender to her buzz, forget all the things that were worrying her.

When Mako returned to the table with assurances that Liza just needed some rest and would be fine in the morning, they’d settled into dinner—the ghost story, the creepy review, too, faded, were washed away in a tide of good food, drinks, and laughter.

The meal had actually been heavenly—the meat perfectly grilled, charred at the edges but moist inside. Every side was an explosion of flavor. And a surprise dessert was on its way, Chef clanging about the kitchen while his silent assistant cleared their plates. Hannah thanked her, but she didn’t seem to hear.

Mako was loudly telling a story about buying the Tesla and how he needed the tax credit, and Cricket was hanging on his every word. I made so much money last year, he said as if it was a problem. Cricket literally had her chin in her hand, staring at him like a lovesick schoolgirl. Joshua, with a slight smile, and possessive arm around Cricket seemed less impressed.

Hannah had felt Joshua’s eyes, once, twice, but ignored him. Now it was her turn to look at him for a second. His elegant high cheekbones, short shorn dark curls, his good posture, his slimness. He seemed tense, maybe his mind elsewhere, maybe picking up on the energy between Mako and Cricket.

Cricket might always be a little in love with Mako, Hannah thought. The thought came out of nowhere, surprising her. No, that wasn’t true. Was it?

Joshua pulled his phone from his pocket, glancing at it with a frown.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said, rising.

“Of course,” Hannah said, giving him a smile which he returned before moving away quickly.

Cricket and Mako didn’t even notice, Mako drunkenly going on—and on. Hannah had already heard this story. “And the guy was like: Wait. Dude, you’re paying cash?”

Earlier in the month, Hannah’s mother had intimated that Mako was having some issues with the business, that he’d asked their dad to invest more money. But that Sophia and Leo had declined, saying that they were “tapped out” when it came to giving Mako money. Still Mako talked ceaselessly about the things he had, what he was buying next. So, what was that all about?

Hannah felt Bruce’s hand on her thigh and when she looked over at him, they locked eyes.

“Looks like the fire is dying outside,” he said. “I’ll go see to it.”

“Let Chef get it,” said Mako, not eager to lose another audience member. Was his tone a little sharp?

There was a moment where she looked back and forth between her husband and her brother, wondering at the balance of power. Then Bruce rose and left the table, and after a moment Hannah followed.

“Hannah, where are you going?” asked Mako.

But then he went back to his drunken rambling as she left the table and walked outside. She found Bruce bending before the dying fire. He used the poker to bring the embers up, then threw another log on. The flames leapt back to life.

“That’s very manly,” she told him. “If we were cave people, I’d have to reward you for keeping us alive through the night with your mad fire skills.”

“Are you,” he said, rising and pulling her close, “a little tipsy?” He buried his face in her neck and she started to laugh, ripples of pleasure, of desire moving through her.

“What if I am?” she said.

She’d surreptitiously checked the baby monitor app earlier and saw Gigi sleeping peacefully. She felt light and free. She didn’t want to think about anything else. Wasn’t that her biggest problem? She was always thinking.

“It’s good,” he whispered into her ear. “I am, too.”

His lips found hers, and she ran her fingers through the silk of his hair. She was hot for her husband; she didn’t know many women who were, especially after the babies started to come. For a lot of her friends, a deep-seated anger, a resentment set in about how much life had changed for them, and how little it had changed for their husbands. Hannah didn’t feel like that. She loved him for taking care of them, for giving her the space to be fully present for Gigi.

“I saw a gazebo, down that path back there,” he whispered. “Follow me.”

He took her hand and tugged.

Was it rude? She glanced inside the big windows where Mako was still prattling on, and Cricket was adoring, and Joshua hadn’t returned to the table.

“You’re not on duty here,” Bruce said. “You don’t have to attend to them.”

That was true. And, as she’d worried, Cricket was so wrapped up first in Joshua, now in Mako, that Hannah and Cricket barely exchanged a word. So really nothing to bring her back to the table. In fact, she’d been a little bored, sitting there watching the familiar dynamic play out.

She followed her hot husband into the dark, walking up a narrow path through the trees. It led to a clearing and there was a lovely little gazebo. Above them, the sky was a field of stars. The air was warm but not hot, not humid. Cicadas sang and when she looked out into the trees, she saw the languid blinking of fireflies.

“This is magical,” she said. “When did you see it?”

But he didn’t answer, just pulled her into the wood structure and kissed her—her lips, her neck, the dip of her collarbone—until she was weak with desire. There were wide cushioned benches along the long octagonal sides, and he lowered her down, his hands roaming her body, his breath in her ear.

She felt herself release, relax, the blessed drift of pleasure, of the alcohol buzzing through her veins. Gigi far away, safe in her bed, not even the sound of her breath on the monitor to connect Hannah to her mommy self.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“You’re everything,” he answered, voice deep, almost a growl. “You and Gigi, you’re my whole heart. Please always remember that.”

It sounded odd, like an apology or a good-bye. But she was too lost in passion to ask what he meant by that.

He hiked up her skirt as she tugged down his jeans. Then he was hard and deep inside her, and she lost herself to him, to desire. They knew each other’s bodies so well, but there was always discovery somehow. Here in this strange place, a forbidden escape from dinner, the stars twinkling violently. It was new. They were new. She wrapped her arms tight around him, pulled him in as close as she could.

She watched his muscular shoulders and the pools of his black eyes. Then rockets of pleasure and he pressed in deeper, moaning. Then they were just the breath and the night. Hannah closed her eyes, her body consumed with passion.

But as she climaxed she opened her eyes to look at Bruce. And that’s when she saw a white form in the trees. It twisted and floated, light like the flowing folds of fabric, and then it was gone. She drew in a gasp, kept watching. But there was only darkness.

“Wow,” Bruce said, leaning his weight against her. “Wow.”

“I saw something,” she whispered, sitting up.

Bruce followed her gaze into the darkness. “What?”

“It looked like—a ghost.”

Bruce stroked her hair, gave her a chuckle. “You were just hallucinating from extreme pleasure.”

“No,” she said, still looking. “I mean—yes, it was amazing. But I saw something.”

“Just the fireflies maybe?” he said, sensing her seriousness.

“Yeah, maybe.”

She kept staring off into the night, watching for the glowing white she’d seen. Chef Jeff’s words rang back:

Now people say they see the wife wandering through the woods, looking for her children. And some people think they’ve seen the little girl wading in the lake.

“It was that guy with his ridiculous ghost stories,” Bruce said, echoing her thoughts.

“You’re right,” she said, wanting him to be. The idea of a mother wandering around looking for her dead children had been unsettling. Actually, heart-wrenching was more like it.

They heard voices then, and Bruce pulled up his jeans, grinning. Hannah sliding her skirt down, still watching. But there was only the darkness.

Voices again, closer. Were there only going to be stolen moments on this trip? But it was quiet again. She’d thought she heard her name but whoever was calling was headed away.

They were missing dessert.

“We should get back,” she said. She kept looking into the trees. But now she wasn’t even sure what she’d seen.

Bruce sat beside her. “Let’s just take a minute and be.”

He dropped an arm around her, and she rested against him breathing in the night air. Somewhere there was shrieking, now. Cricket. She got loud when she was drunk.

“That guy,” said Bruce. “He was staring at you.”

“Joshua? No,” she said. “He’s head over heels for Cricket.”

She told him how when she’d first seen him, she thought she recognized him. It was still bothering her to be honest. But she was too tired to probe into the recesses of her memory further.

“One of your many conquests?”

“That must be it.”

“No,” said Bruce, nudging her with his shoulder. “He was though. In a weird way. Almost sad.”

Bruce was a sensitive guy, nearly empathic. He always seemed to know what she was thinking, was very in tune with what Gigi needed which most fathers she knew were not.

“He does have a strange vibe,” she admitted.

“Hannah!” Cricket.

“You guys better put your clothes on!” Mako. His voice was getting closer. “We’re going to find yooouuuu.”

“Oh no,” said Bruce. “They found us.”

“You thought they wouldn’t?”

Mako came into view on the path, covering his eyes. “Are you guys decent?”

“Of course,” said Hannah, tugging at her skirt. “We’re old married people. We’re not romping out in the gazebo like two teenagers.”

“Anymore,” added Bruce, earning a guffaw from Mako.

“You always were such a slut,” put in Cricket, coming up behind Mako. She slipped in next to Hannah, and pulled her into a hug.

“That’s my wife you’re talking about,” said Bruce, mock offended.

“And my sister,” said Mako, with a hand to his heart. “But yeah—a total slut.”

It was only funny because Hannah was the straight arrow, the rule follower, the eternal good girl. The designated driver—for life. She was fine with that. She didn’t mind being the one to take care of the wild kids, the one who made sure that everyone else was safe.

“I took the cover off the hot tub,” said Mako. “Let’s have a soak.”

“And a smoke,” said Cricket, producing a joint from her pocket with a wicked grin. Cricket was a walking pharmacy—she always had weed, gummies, all manner of pills.

“Where’s Joshua?” asked Hannah, looking down the dark path.

Cricket rolled her eyes. “He had some work to do. He might join us later. But he’ll probably just turn in. He’s a chronically early riser.”

“For now, it’s just us. The OGs,” said Mako, pulling Cricket up and leading her back toward the house. “Let’s chill.”

“Private party?” asked Bruce when Cricket and Mako disappeared up the path. Bruce and Hannah followed behind the other two, hand in hand, listening to their laughter. A hot tub, a joint, significant others MIA. That was a recipe for Cricket and Mako to get into trouble. What was it with those two?

Hannah frowned, thinking of poor Liza, sick in bed with a migraine while they all partied on. “Not on my watch.”