Page 29 of Vows in Sin

S eraphina

After Reign left last night, I decided the least I could do for Tabitha now is to go back to my room and sleep alone. I lay there all night, on top of the covers, my robe tied around my waist, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling, hand resting over my stomach as it twisted in knots.

The sun rises, lighting the room and illuminating the truth.

I’m a terrible friend.

I keep imagining the feelings Tabitha must be going through. The horror of seeing us like that, your father balls deep inside?—

I’m going to be sick. I jump up from the bed, running to the bathroom to retch.

Tears stain my face as I recover. I don’t like the way I look in the mirror. A bad friend. I quickly turn away, showering and preparing for the day ahead.

I may have made a mess, but at least I can help with the cleanup.

Cleopatra was a schoolteacher in another life.

Before Blaze, the Bachmans, this Estate.

She’s fantastic with kids. We’re turning the pool house into a day camp headquarters.

The place is already nicer than any summer camp I could imagine.

Between the lake, the pool, and endless variations of tag, we’ll keep them happy.

The parents approved our plan to pause the kids' education. What they need is fun to distract them from their loss. And parents need space to think and plan their future.

I’m guessing that what Tabby needs right now is space. As I make my way to the pool house, I take the path as far away from the field as possible. The medical tents were supposed to be temporary, but with space limited, it’s working, and they’ve decided to keep their operation there.

Knowing Tabitha, she’s been under the canvas patching people up since dawn.

When the pool house comes into view, I spot Cleopatra and Ophelia. They’re grappling with a big white folding table.

I feel a pang about the changes coming, knowing from experience that no matter how cool a girl is, once she gets hitched, she’ll spend more time with her new family, disappearing from GNO and annual girls’ trips.

The table collapses, hitting the ground with a clatter. The girls laugh at their mistake, their heads bowed together as they retrieve the awkward thing.

“Here! Let me help.” I jog across the grass, wearing appropriate gear today: sneakers, cut-offs, and a white tee with the PalmVolts logo splashed across the back.

Yes, I totally thought it was a different shirt when I tossed it in the bag during my quick packing for this trip. It hurt to look at the logo when I pulled it out of my suitcase this morning.

I put it on as penance.

I grab an edge of the table and between the three of us, we’re able to get it set up. I tap the top. “Check in?”

“Yup.” Cleopatra throws a hand on her hip, eyeing me with a mischievous grin. “Speaking of checking in, anything you want to tell us this morning?”

“What do you mean?” Heat flashes over my face. No one knows. Do they?

Cleopatra reads my mind. “Everyone knows. There were whispers the second you and Reign shook hands.”

“Tabs? I’m glad my two biffs are getting along but WTF?” I narrow my gaze at the girls. “What else do you all know?”

They try not to giggle, but Ophelia’s Snow-White complexion gives way to a serious tell-tale blush.

I bury my face in my hands. “No! How did this happen?”

“I think we all know how this happened.” Cleopatra gives a sexy waggle of her brows. “You see, Seraphina. When a man and a woman love each other very much?—”

My hands clamp over my ears. “I can’t hear this.”

I’m only afforded a one-minute wallow before the girls are pulling me up and out of the chair. “Come on,” Cleopatra says. “We have a herd of pent-up children that are going to be here in less than an hour. We have a summer camp to create.”

Ophelia does jazz hands. “We’ve got to make magic, magic, magic!”

“Summa camp magic!” Cleopatra grabs my hands, swaying her hips.

Their attempt to cheer me works, and soon we’re blaring Abba Radio, me singing at the top of my lungs, Cleopatra messing up the words, more reserved Ophelia mouthing the words, pretending to sing.

“I really appreciate this, girls. I needed a pick-me-up.”

“Really?” Cleopatra’s brows knit. “I heard you already had a pick-me-up last night.”

Ophelia’s cheeks pinken. “And on the balcony last night during dinner.”

I freeze, slow-mo turning to face Ophelia in my horror. “What did you say?”

“I was on the way to the bathroom during dinner!” She buries her face in her hands, long dark hair making a curtain on either side of her face. “I heard you. Um. Celebrating?”

“Or being attacked by a stray cat. Same sound.” Cleopatra giggles.

“We. Never. Speak of this again.” I look from woman to woman. “Got it?”

“Of course,” Ophelia agrees obediently.

“Sure. As your best friend, I’m never again going to mention the time you did it on the balcony, howling to the moon like a dang lady werewolf.”

They collapse into giggles. I burst into tears.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry. I was only teasing.”

I collapse into the folding chair. Sobs are shaking my shoulders. “It’s not you,” I howl for the second time in 24 hours. “It’s me! I’m such a shitty, shitty friend. I can’t stop thinking about what Tabitha saw last night.”

The girls come to my side, wrapping their arms around me, telling me it’s okay when we all know it really, really is not okay. I tell them the horrible story, and somehow in my humiliation and despair, the three of us end up giggling manically.

Overexcited, sleep-deprived kids start to appear, running full speed towards us on their own, while others drag their feet, hand in a parent’s. Cleopatra, as always, is efficient, checking each one in with an emergency cell phone contact number, “Like I used to do on field trip day for school.”

Eloise finds me, giving me a one-armed hug, her bear clutched to her side with the other.

I drop to a knee, facing her. “Good morning, Eloise.” I give her teddy a pat in greeting. “And good morning, bear.”

She pops her thumb from her mouth long enough to correct me. “Mr. Bear,” then plugs it back.

Standing, I take her hand. “Come on, let’s go find Ophelia. She’s got the sidewalk chalk. We can write Mr. Bear’s name on the patio.”

I gather a group of the younger ones spreading them out on the concrete patio outside the pool house. There’s a bucket of sidewalk chalk and I parcel it out between them. Eloise quickly grows bored with the activity.

“Mr. Bear wants to swim.”

Anxiety prickles at me. We have a few bachelor brothers who volunteered as lifeguards for the afternoon, and seeing the watchful eyes and biceps on them, I finally agreed.

“We can go down to the water when it’s time. But not till the lifeguards get here. And only when you have a life vest on.”

She nods in agreement. Relief.

The groups change hands; the older kids come to me to do crafts, while the younger ones head off to their next activity with Ophelia, bright-colored chalk on their hands. I make sure to run down my list and head count. All twelve of my new batch are quickly settled.

I’m ending a squabble over the only fluorescent pink chalk stick when I first hear the sound. Splashes. My thought immediately goes to Eloise’s request, and I pop right up, scanning the lake behind me.

Quiet ripples smooth over the water.

More splashing. Then, the cry. My world shrinks to one thought. “The pool!”

We’re at the patio outside the front door of the pool house. I take off, through the door, calling as I dash through the pool house. “I heard someone in the water!”

She’s there, halfway between the shallow and deep ends, splashing as she struggles through the water. Eloise. Mr. Bear is discarded on the pavement beside the pool.

I jump right in, and I reach out for her, pulling her to my chest. My head goes light, stars behind my lids. I feel faint, but I have to keep going until she’s out of the water. “Eloise! Eloise! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She holds tough, but her bottom lip trembles. “I know how to swim.”

Clutching the little girl, I trudge through the water, getting her to safety.

Ophelia is suddenly right there at the edge of the pool. “Eloise! Thank goodness.” She bends over the edge of the pool, arms reaching out for the little girl.

I hand her up, helping Eloise onto the concrete with Ophelia’s help. Ophelia stands, taking Eloise into her arms. “She slipped away from the group,” Ophelia gasps, holding Eloise tight to her chest. “She mentioned the lake, so I looked there first. This was my next check.”

“We got her,” I reassure Ophelia. “We have her.” Standing in the water at the edge of the pool, I lay my cheek against the coolness of the concrete. “We got her.”

I’m taken back to another time, another life, another little girl.

I can do it myself! Sissy kicks my thigh, hard, attempting to get away from me, her eyes glued to that blue and white line of buoys separating the deep end from the shallow one.

But I don’t let her cross that line.

And I never take my eyes off her.

Later, after she’s had the snack I packed us, and the lifeguard break is over, she hops up from her chair. “Ready!”

“Forgetting something?” I smile, holding up a pink water wing.

“Don’t need it,” she says.

“Butterflies need their wings.”

The other kids are hopping over the side, diving into the cool water. “K,” she finally relents.

After dipping the plastic in the pool to make them slippery I pull the water wings on over her dry skin, securing them on her upper arms.

“All set!”

I take her hand, leading her to the stairs.

And I never, ever take my eyes off her.

Arm, pulling me. Ground under me. White lights above me.

Voices swarm like colors, red, yellow, orange, creating swirls behind my eyes that move further away till it’s all white again.

“I’ll go get Tabitha,” Ophelia says. “She’s a medic.”

“No.” A woman in love, too, Cleopatra shakes her head, knowing what I need. “She’ll want Reign. Get him. Now.

The voices are quiet, the bright light welcoming me home.

Finally.

I’ll be back with Alessi.

Finally.

I’ll have peace.

I wish I could have told him…

White goes to black.

Then, Reign’s arms are around me.

Strong. Steady. Warm.

My body is shaking, and my clothes are soaked.

Now I’m here. In Reign’s arms. And everything hurts.

He’s speaking, but the words are muffled—blurred by the thunder in my ears and the weight of what I’ve buried for too long. I’m blinking, trying to see him.

All I see is her.

The words pour from me like a dam breaking. “I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there.”

“She’s fine. You got to her in plenty of time, Seraphina.”

But he doesn’t understand. Not yet. But he will.

“My little sister drowned.”

Beneath me, Reign freezes.