Tatjana Soli - The Last Good Paradise

“Today was way cool,” Dex said.

Ann smiled. “It was.”

“Who would have thought the thing would grow so big?”

“We accomplished something.”

Wende walked up nonchalantly, as if they had been hanging out there all day. “Have fun on the boat? Robby and I need to talk with you real quick, Dex.”

“Ann and I are having a moment.”

“Oh. Sorry. Sure.”

Wende moved off with her clipboard, which now was an extension of her body, keenly aware that in the past Dex never had cared about marking their moments. Strike that— that was the old Wende. What mattered were rehearsals. It was all well and fine to get sentimental, but it was time to move on to the next thing. And if that worked out, great, then move on to the one after that, ad infinitum. They were going to have to start immediately if they were to have a chance of performing the concert before the momentum faded.

Dex and Ann sat side by side on the beach. They faced the east, which was dark. The fiery brilliance of sunset was behind them.

“Do you think there is anything back there for us?” Ann asked.

“That’s home,” Dex said, waving his arm out in front of him. “That is the direction of hope, of dreams, of happiness.”

A pause.

“Are you sure that’s east?” Ann asked.

Wende was seething by now and wondered if they were stoned. Precious minutes were going down the toilet. Did no one want to be serious about anything?

“You guys are looking south. Nothing between you and Antarctica.”

* * *

After Cooked was congratulated by all two hundred and fifty guests and even some of the drunk paparazzi, after he was slapped on the back so many times he felt bruised, after he was toasted with so many shots of moonshine that he was seeing double, Titi finally rescued him and took him away to their honeymoon fare at the quiet, secluded corner of the beach that was no longer quite so secluded, amid much joyful crowing and howling. When she shut the door and closed the blinds against peeking kids, Cooked experienced his first moment of peace. She unwound his bandage and discovered the tiniest divot had been taken from the top of his ear, like a mouse’s nibble out of a piece of cheese.

“I’m so proud of you,” Titi said, and her pareu, as if of its own will, dropped, revealing the naked, oiled gift of herself.

Beyond exhaustion, Cooked felt vanquished but in a good way. He could only stare at this girl whom he had known and loved all his life, who tomorrow would be his wife. He had done okay today, he thought. But even if he hadn’t, she would still love him.

“I haven’t had much rest,” he said, hedging his bets.

“I’ll do all the work.” She smiled, the crescent of her smile glowing, an interior moon.

Cooked had been able to endure the humiliations of the past days only because of her.

She pulled him to her.

Later, when they lay in the plunge pool to cool off, she fed him cut-up chunks of Bounty bars, his favorite treat.

“It will be good after the ceremony is over and everyone leaves. They mean well, but they’re trashing the island,” she said.

“How will we manage alone?”

“Loren will stay. He belongs here.”

“They expect us to fail. Get us to sell cheap.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, kissing his arm, his neck, then starting all over. “Today you were my hero.”

* * *

Ann sheepishly went in search of Richard, disappointed that he hadn’t been waiting at the beach to greet her. She found him in the kitchen with Javi and a dozen Polynesian women, involved in the monumental production of a wedding feast. She stood in the doorway, and he and Javi saw her at the same moment.

“Ann!” they said simultaneously, turning to look at each other rather than her. Neither came forward.

“I’m back,” she said, stating the obvious to the void of silence that hung between them.

“Good,” Richard said, and went on stirring.

“Richard?”

He didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?”

“I told him I love you,” Javi said casually as he kept chopping.

She looked at him, furious. “Why did you come here?”

Javi shrugged. “I missed you guys.”

Lorna had straightened everything out with the creditors, the ex-wife, and the loan sharks (she had enough underground connections that this wasn’t beyond her purview). Although Javi omitted the fact that he had used the money she loaned him partly for a little R & R in Tahiti and Bora-Bora before continuing on to see them, he had taken full responsibility, declared bankruptcy, and sold every last thing, even returning the beautiful new Corvette, to satisfy everyone. Everyone, that is, except for them. Technically they had spent their money at their own discretion. Was it his fault they wanted to live it up?

“I’m a new man,” Javi said. “As in brand-new. No credit. I’ll be working restaurants the next decade to catch up. But you guys are free and clear.”

“Free,” a relative term when they had just dropped a major chunk of change at a five-star luxury eco-resort for almost three weeks. Not including the sizable bar tab, first-class airfare (was it a time to go economy?), and incidentals. Everything in the restaurant had been sold off at ten cents on the dollar. The space was now occupied by a Pilates studio. There would be no resurrecting the restaurant. El Gusano was dead.

“Well, that settles that. I’m heading back to LA,” Richard announced.

The “I” instead of “we” was a noticeable omission to all three of them.

“Don’t blame Ann,” Javi said, but Richard raised his hand to stop him, then walked out.

“What’s eating him?”

Ann looked at Javi. As if the restaurant wasn’t enough, he had just ruined her marriage. Of course, it had been her fault, too. At the time of the affair, Richard and she were splitting up. Sure, it had been a questionable judgment call, she had made a mistake, but people do. Ten years of good behavior afterward didn’t count for anything? Life was messy, and she didn’t know if she wanted to spend the rest of hers with someone who didn’t understand that. She would have forgiven him. But had she?

* * *

Ann and Richard sat on the beach, surrounded by families settling in for the night, spreading blankets on the sand to stretch out under the stars. It was obvious that the simple Tuamotuan lifestyle was unavailable to them. And yet.

“It meant nothing,” Ann said.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Javi loves you. As much as he is capable. You and I were about to break up. You were cold and distant after your trip to France, and I thought you’d fallen in love with a girl. It happened, and then it was over. Why hurt you? We were doing fine.”

“I should have been told.”

“You needed Javi for the restaurant.”

“Look where that got us.”

“Things happen. We’re adults.”

Richard pounded his fist in the sand. “I’m not.”

She had to bite down hard on her cheek not to smile. “Maybe I’ve babied you too much.”

“You lied to me.”

“Like you lied to me all these years about your problem with meat. That’s what happened to you in France, wasn’t it? Don’t you think that was a pretty important detail to omit?”

“Sorry if I can’t compete with almost being contaminated by radiation while hanging out with a rock star.”

“What about your lusting after Wende? Your eyes almost pop out of your head every time she walks by.”

“Not true.”

“True.”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it did, I would forgive you.”

“So you forgive me hypothetically, and I’m supposed to forgive the real thing?”

“What’s the alternative?”