Every Breath Read online

“Habit and tradition often render change undesirable.”

  His response brought to mind an upper-class Englishman ensconced in a wood-paneled library at his country estate—an image utterly incongruous with the man sitting across from her.

  “You certainly have a unique turn of phrase,” she remarked with a smile.

  “I do?”

  “You can definitely tell you’re not American.”

  He seemed amused by that. “How’s Scottie doing? Still moving around?”

  “He’s back to his rambunctious self. But I think he was mad at me for not bringing him out to the beach again. Or at least disappointed.”

  “He does seem to enjoy chasing the birds.”

  “As long as he doesn’t catch them. If he did, he probably wouldn’t know what to do.”

  The waitress approached, seeming less harried than she’d been earlier. “Have you two decided what you’d like to drink?” she asked.

  Tru looked over at Hope, and she nodded. “I believe we’re ready to order,” he said. He gave the waitress their food orders and asked if the restaurant had any local beers on tap.

  “Sorry, sweetheart,” the waitress answered. “Nothing fancy here, and nothing on tap. Just Budweiser, Miller, and Coors, but the bottles are ice cold.”

  “I’ll try a Coors, then,” he said.

  “And you?” she asked, turning to Hope.

  It had been years since she’d had a beer, but for some reason, it sounded strangely appealing right now. And she definitely needed something to ease her anxiety. “I’ll have the same,” she said, and the waitress nodded, leaving them alone at the table. Hope reached for her napkin and set it in her lap.

  “How long have you been playing the guitar?” she asked.

  “I started when I was apprenticing to become a guide. One of the men I was working with used to play at night when we were at the camp. He offered to give me some lessons. The rest I just picked up over the years. Do you play?”

  “No. I took a few piano lessons when I was a kid, but that’s it. My sister can play, though.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “Two,” she said. “Robin and Joanna.”

  “Do you see them often?”

  She nodded. “We try. The whole family lives in Raleigh, but it’s harder these days to get everyone together except on holidays or birthdays. Both Robin and Joanna are married and they work, and their kids keep them constantly on the go.”

  “My son, Andrew, is the same way.”

  The waitress dropped off the two bottles of beer from a tray filled with other drinks. Hope tilted her head in surprise.

  “I didn’t know you had a son.”

  “He’s ten. Because of my work schedule, he lives with his mother most of the time.”

  “Your work schedule?”

  “I work for six weeks straight, then go home for two weeks.”

  “That has to be hard for both of you.”

  “Sometimes it is,” he agreed. “At the same time, it’s all he’s ever known, so I tell myself that he’s used to it. And we have a lot of fun when we’re together. He wasn’t pleased when he learned that I would be coming here for a week.”

  “Have you spoken with him since you’ve been here?”

  “No, but I’m planning to call him tomorrow.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “Curious. Bright. Handsome. Kind. But I’m biased.” He grinned and took a sip of his beer.

  “You should be. He’s your son. Does he want to become a guide one day, too?”

  “He says he does, and he seems to enjoy spending time in the bush as much as I do. But then again, he also says he wants to drive race cars. And be a veterinarian. And maybe a mad scientist.”

  She smiled. “What do you think?”

  “He’ll make his own decision in the end, like we all do. Being a guide means leading an unconventional life, and it’s not for everyone. It’s also one of the reasons my marriage ended. I just wasn’t around enough. Kim deserved better.”

  “It seems like you and your ex get along well.”

  “We do. But she’s easy to get along with, and she’s a marvelous mother.”

  Hope reached for her beer, impressed by the way he spoke about his ex, thinking it said as much about him as it did about her.

  “When do you fly back?”

  “Monday morning. And you leave?”

  “Sometime on Sunday. I have to work on Monday. When is your meeting?”

  “On Saturday afternoon.” He took a drink before slowly lowering the bottle to the table. “I’m supposed to meet my father.”

  “Do you mean visit?”

  “No,” he answered. “I mean meet for the first time. According to the letter I received, he moved from Zimbabwe before I was born, and he learned of my existence only a short time ago.”

  Hope opened her lips, then closed them again. After a moment, she ventured, “I can’t imagine not knowing my father. Your mind must be going a hundred miles an hour.”

  “I admit it’s an unusual circumstance.”

  Hope shook her head, still trying to grasp what he’d told her. “I wouldn’t know how to start that conversation. Or even what to ask him.”

  “I do.” For the first time, Tru glanced off to the side. When he spoke again, his voice was almost lost in the sound of the rolling waves. “I’d like to ask him about my mother.”

  She hadn’t expected that and pondered what he could mean. She thought she saw a flash of sadness in his expression, but when he faced her again, it was gone.

  “It seems we both have memorable weekends ahead,” he observed.

  His desire to change the subject was obvious and she played along, despite her growing curiosity. “I just hope it doesn’t rain. Ellen would probably burst into tears.”

  “You mentioned you’re a bridesmaid?”

  “I am. And thankfully, the dress is actually pretty stylish.”

  “Dress?”

  “The bridesmaids wear matching dresses, picked out by the bride. And sometimes the bride doesn’t have the greatest sense of style.”

  “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  “This is the eighth time I’ve been a bridesmaid.” She sighed. “Six friends and both my sisters. I’ve liked maybe two of the dresses.”

  “What happens if you don’t like the dress?”

  “Nothing. Except you’ll probably hate the photos for the rest of your life. If I ever get married, I might pick ugly dresses just to get back at some of them.”

  He laughed, and she realized she liked the sound of it—deep and rumbly, like the beginnings of an earthquake.

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “I might. One of the dresses was lime green. With puffy shoulders. That one was actually for my sister Robin’s wedding. Joanna and I still tease her about it.”

  “How long has she been married?”

  “Nine years,” she said. “Her husband, Mark, is an insurance broker, and he’s kind of quiet, but very nice. And they’ve got three boys. Joanna has been married to Jim for seven years. He’s an attorney, and they have two little girls.”

  “Sounds like you’re all very close.”

  “We are,” she said. “And we live near each other, too. Of course, depending on the traffic, it can still take twenty minutes to get to each other’s houses. It’s probably nothing like where you’re from.”

  “The big cities like Harare and Bulawayo have traffic issues, too. You’d be surprised.”

  She tried to imagine the cities but couldn’t.

  “I’m embarrassed to admit it, but when I think of Zimbabwe, all I can picture are those nature shows on cable. Elephants and giraffes, things like that. What you see every day. I know there are cities there, but anything I imagine is probably wrong.”

  “They’re like all cities, I suppose. There are nice neighborhoods, and others where you probably shouldn’t go.”

  “Do you feel culture shock going from the bus
h to the city?”

  “Every single time. It still takes me a day or two to get used to the noise and traffic and number of people. Part of that, though, is because I was raised on a farm.”

  “Your mom was a farmer?”

  “My grandfather.”

  “How does a kid who grew up on the farm end up being a guide?”

  “That’s a long and complicated story.”

  “The good ones usually are. Care to share?”

  As she asked, the waitress arrived with their meals. Tru had finished his beer and ordered a second one; Hope followed his lead. The food smelled delicious, and this time, the waitress was prompt with the drinks, returning with two more beers before either had taken a bite. Tru raised his bottle, indicating that she should do the same.

  “To enchanted evenings,” he said simply before clinking his bottle to hers.

  Maybe it was the formality of a toast amid the informality of Clancy’s, but she realized that at some point, her nervousness had slipped away without her even noticing it. She suspected it had to do with Tru’s authenticity, and it reinforced her impression that too many people spent their lives performing a role they thought they were supposed to play, as opposed to simply being who they were.

  “Back to your question. I don’t mind speaking on the subject, but I wonder if it’s appropriate for dinner. Perhaps later?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged. She sliced off a piece of crab cake and took a bite. Amazing, as always. Noticing Tru had sampled his tuna, she asked, “How is it?”

  “It’s flavorful,” he said. “Yours?”

  “It’s going to be hard not to eat both of them. But I have to get into the dress this weekend.”

  “And it is one of the stylish ones.”

  She was flattered that he seemed to remember everything she told him. Over dinner, they settled into a conversation replete with familiar stories. She told him a little about Ellen, describing some of her friend’s devil-may-care exploits while whitewashing the worst parts of her past, like the drug-dealing ex. She mentioned her other sorority sisters as well, the talk eventually drifting to Hope’s family. She told him what it had been like to grow up with teachers for parents, both of whom insisted that their children learn how to schedule and complete their homework on their own, without help. She described running cross-country and track, expressing her admiration for the deft way her dad had handled coaching all of his daughters. She reminisced about baking cookies with her mom. She talked about her work, too—the fierce energy of her days in the emergency room, and the patients and families who touched her heart. Though there were times when images of Josh broke into her thoughts, they were surprisingly few and far between.

  As they talked, the stars slowly spread throughout the sky. Breakers sparkled in the moonlight, and the breeze picked up slightly, carrying the briny scent of the sea. The tiki torches sputtered in the breeze, casting an orange glow over the tables while other patrons drifted in and out. The ambiance grew quieter, more subdued as the evening progressed, conversations interrupted only by muted laughter and the same songs cycling from the jukebox.

  After their plates were cleared, the waitress came by with two slices of lemon meringue pie, and it took Tru only a single bite to understand that she hadn’t been exaggerating when touting its virtues. While they lingered over dessert, he did most of the talking. He spoke about the various camps where he’d worked and told her about his friend Romy, and the way Romy would sometimes badger him to play his guitar after their long day was over. He told her a bit more about his divorce from Kim, and spoke for a long time about Andrew. She could tell by the longing in his voice that Tru already missed him, and it made her think again how much she wanted a child of her own.

  She sensed in Tru a comfort level with who he was and the life he’d chosen, but it was balanced by a genuine uncertainty as to whether he was good enough as a father. She supposed that was normal, but his honesty about all of it seemed to deepen the intimacy between them. She wasn’t used to that, especially with a stranger. More than once, she found herself unconsciously leaning across the table in order to hear him better, only to pull herself upright when she realized what she was doing. Later, when he laughingly recounted how terrified he’d been when they’d first brought Andrew home from the hospital, she felt an unexpected surge of warmth toward him. That he was handsome there was no question, but for a moment it was easy for her to imagine their dinner conversation as the start of a lifetime of unending conversations between them.

  Feeling foolish, she dismissed the thought. They were temporary neighbors, nothing more. But the feeling of warmth persisted, and she was conscious of blushing more than usual as the evening wore on.

  When the check arrived, Tru reached for it automatically. Hope offered to split it, but Tru shook his head, simply saying, “Please. Allow me.” By then, a ball of clouds had formed in the eastern sky, partially obscuring the moon. But they continued to talk as the last of the tables cleared out. When they finally rose from their seats, Hope glanced at Tru, surprised by how relaxed she felt. They meandered to the gate, Hope watching as he held it open for her, suddenly certain that dinner with Tru was the perfect way to cap off one of the more surprising days of her life.

  A Walk in the Dark

  After interacting with thousands of guests over the years, Tru had become adept at reading people. When Hope reached the beach and turned toward him, he noticed an aura of contentment that had been lacking when they’d first locked eyes in the restaurant. He’d sensed caution and uncertainty then, maybe even worry, and though it would have been easy for him to conclude their initial pleasantries in a way that left no hard feelings, he hadn’t. For some reason, he’d suspected that eating alone wouldn’t help her overcome whatever demons she was wrestling with.

  “What are you thinking about?” she inquired, her drawl sounding melodic to his ears. “You had a faraway look there for a moment.”

  “I was thinking about our conversation.”

  “I probably talked too much.”

  “Not at all.” Reprising their morning routine, they walked the beach side by side, the pace even more leisurely now. “I enjoyed learning about your life.”

  “I don’t know why. It’s not all that exciting.”

  Because you interest me, he thought, but he didn’t say that. Instead, he zeroed in on what she hadn’t mentioned all night. “What’s your boyfriend like?”

  By her expression, he knew she was thrown by the question. “How did you know I had a boyfriend?”

  “You mentioned that he gave you Scottie as a gift.”

  “Oh…that’s right. I did say that, didn’t I?” She pursed her lips for a second. “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything you want to tell.”

  She felt her sandals sinking into the sand. “His name is Josh, and he’s an orthopedic surgeon. He’s smart and successful and…he’s a nice guy.”

  “How long have you been dating?”

  “Six years.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, though to his ears, it sounded almost like she was trying to convince herself.

  “I assume he’s coming to the wedding?”

  She walked a few paces before answering. “Actually, he isn’t. He was supposed to, but he decided to go to Las Vegas with some friends instead.” She offered a half smile, one that betrayed her unhappiness. “Right now, we’re kind of on the outs, but we’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

  Which explained why she’d said nothing about him at dinner. Still…“I’m sorry to hear that. And for bringing it up.”

  As she nodded, Tru noticed something skittering in the sand directly in front of him. “What was that?” he asked.

  “That’s a ghost crab,” she said, sounding relieved by the distraction. “They come out at night from their burrows in the sand. But they’re harmless.”

  “Are there a lot of them?”

  “Between here and the house, it
wouldn’t surprise me if we saw a hundred of them.”

  “Good to know.” Ahead of them lay the pier, looking forlorn and deserted in the darkness. Offshore, Tru noticed lights from a distant fishing trawler, a deep span of black water separating it from the beach.

  “Can I ask you a personal question now?”

  “Of course,” he answered.

  “Why do you want to ask your father about your mother? Does it have anything to do with the reason you became a guide?”

  He smiled at her perceptiveness. “As a matter of fact, it does.” He tucked a hand in his pocket, wondering where to start before deciding to just come out with it. “I want to ask my father about my mother because I realize I’ve never known who she really was. What she enjoyed, what made her happy or sad, what she dreamed about. I was only eleven years old when she died.”

  “That’s terrible,” she murmured. “You were so young.”

  “So was she,” he countered. “She was still a teenager when she had me. Had her pregnancy occurred a couple of years later, it probably would have been more of a scandal. But it wasn’t long after the war, and she wasn’t the only young lady to have fallen for a former soldier after the war ended. More than that, we were kind of cut off from the rest of civilization because of where we lived, so supposedly, no one aside from the workers at the farm even knew about me for a long while. My grandfather preferred to keep it quiet. People eventually found out, but by then it was old news. Besides, my mother was still young and beautiful, and as the daughter of a wealthy man she was considered quite desirable. But as I said, I don’t feel as though I knew her. Her name was Evelyn, but I never heard them talk about her, or even speak her name after she died.”

  “Them?”

  “My grandfather. And Rodney, my stepfather.”

  “Why not?”

  Tru watched another ghost crab scurry past. “Well…I’ll have to provide some context and history to answer that question properly.” He sighed as she looked at him expectantly. “Back when I was still a young boy, there was another farm that bordered ours, with lots of good, fertile land and ready access to water. At that time, tobacco was quickly becoming the most profitable crop to farm, and my grandfather was intent on controlling as much of the production as he could. He was ruthless when it came to business. The neighbor discovered just how ruthless when he turned down my grandfather’s offer to buy his farm, and my grandfather diverted a lot of the water from the neighbor’s land to his own.”