Page 46

Charles, the stay-at-home dad

I give Lei a quick peck on the top of his head, thank Sofía, and charge toward the Visitor Center, hoping Cassie’s still waiting for me. Our kayak trip was longer than anticipated, in part because of the capsizing incident. Also because our guide was generally chatty, no doubt realizing that a longer ride meant a bigger tip. Shit, did I remember to tip him? I race back to the kayak center, scan the Venmo link for our guide, and use the kayak company’s Wi-Fi to send off a hundred-dollar tip, wondering if that feels showy instead of generous, if I’m just another LA asshole throwing money around.

About halfway down the wood-chipped path, the panic hits. Does Sofía know there’s Wi-Fi at the kayak center? Will she think it’s suspicious that I’m going down to the Visitor Center instead? And what if Cassie offhandedly mentioned to Sofía that she was going to the Visitor Center too? If anyone could put it all together, it’s Sofía.

Which reminds me what happened on the open waters. Should I tell Cassie about the splashing incident? It’s not exactly good foreplay. Maybe she already knows, since Dave and Lily headed back to camp. There’s no way they wouldn’t have told her. If they did, she won’t be waiting for me instead of being with her daughter. I pick up my pace, unsure if the thought of finding the Visitor Center empty makes me feel relieved or rejected.

When I get to the ranch house beside the Visitor Center, I’m briefly distracted by the chaos at the dock. A boat undulates as it charges away from the island, while another pulls up to the pier. People scurry haphazardly. Some are in line to board the next boat. Others scramble at the lockers to retrieve their coolers and backpacks. It’s like the penultimate scene before an alien invasion, where the characters believe they can control their fate and avoid the inevitable attack.

I sleuth around the wooden gate fencing in the old ranch house and waltz over to the white stucco building beside it. Cassie’s inside, reading the display on the Chumash people, who inhabited the island first. From the doorway, I drink in her long, slender body, her straight reddish hair, her bare arms, pale like they haven’t spent a day in the sun. There’s something pure about Cassie’s looks, which makes our interactions more deviant than the run-of-the-mill, heteronormative affair we’re having.

She doesn’t betray any emotion when I slip in silently beside her.

“Did you know there’s more than a hundred and fifty plants and animals on this island that don’t live anywhere else in the world?” Cassie asks, focused on the information below.

I rest my hand on the case she’s perusing, a display of vermin and snakes that, unique or not, I’d prefer to avoid, and inch my pinkie toward the side of her hand that rests on the placard. She reaches her hand toward mine so the outsides touch.

“I wasn’t sure how long I should wait,” she says with surprising sadness.

“The kayak trip went late. I should probably tell you about something that happened—”

Before I can, Cassie says, “Let’s not talk about that,” and lets her pinkie trail mine as she drops her hand to her side and wafts toward the door.

I follow her down the alley between the ranch house and Visitor Center, where we’re thwarted by a locked gate. Its sign explains that the area’s closed for roosting bats. Cassie tilts her head in the opposite direction, toward the front of the building with the frenzy of people beyond. There’s no way I’m going to follow her out onto the beach, where anyone can see us tiptoe down the coast toward a private cove. As I’m about to tell her that this was a bad idea, she scoots under the stairs and around the back of the building into the brush. There’s no trail behind the building, only a thin strip of knee-high grass beneath a rugged hillside. As I follow her down the grassy alley, my mind wanders to the conversation we didn’t have about Lily and Sofía. I can’t shake how wrong it is that she’s here with me instead of consoling her daughter. This makes me so nauseated, I might vomit. Or maybe that’s the lingering effect of the second gummy. Halfway down, we can still hear people scrambling at the picnic tables and shouting orders to hurry up, making sure they haven’t forgotten anything, but we’re cut off from their view.

As per usual, Cassie is swift. She pushes me against the building, pressing her body into mine. I react instantly, even as the unease persists.

“I didn’t think we’d get to do this,” she whispers.

“How’s Lily?” I blurt.

Cassie flinches, momentarily confused, then disappointed. “She’s napping. It took her forever to calm down.”

I can’t tell if Cassie’s being defensive when she says this or if, through the guilt of judging her parenting, I simply hear it that way.

“Now,” she says, half teasing, half stern, “do you want to keep talking about my daughter, or can I—” She points toward my zipper, and I nod. Her arm stretches down the front of my pants, and I’m immediately lost to the sensation of her hand rubbing me, before she stops just as quickly. She keeps her fingers wrapped around my penis, her body pressed farther into mine, flat against the building, where the knobs of cold stucco exterior brand my back. Her attention shifts to the window beside me, where a voice emanates from inside.

“Hey, Mona, it’s me again. I’m not totally sure what’s going on. I know I’ve fucked up, but please, please don’t do this. I need you. I love you. I’ll fix this. Please, please don’t leave me.”

I feel itchy, listening to the desperation in Brady’s plea. I widen my eyes at Cassie to convey how wrong this feels. She’s got that smirk that reveals how much she’s enjoying it. A tidal wave of disgust rushes over me, and I want to push her off me, to get as far away from her as I can, but I don’t want to create a commotion, to attract Brady’s attention, to reveal we’ve been listening.

Brady’s voice grows quiet before the front door clicks shut. Once I’m sure he’s gone, I cast Cassie a half smile and lift her hand out of my pants, wanting to get out of here, to return to my children, my husband, to forget all about Cassie Bent.

Whether it’s willful ignorance or utter cluelessness, Cassie nibbles at my ear, pinning me with both of her arms.

“That was close,” she whispers.

“We should get back.” I gently push her body away from mine. “Cut our losses and consider ourselves lucky.”

She casts me an amused smile that’s somehow sexy despite the disgust I’m feeling toward her. My head swirls with mixed emotions as she presses against me.

“I don’t believe in luck,” she says. “Good or bad.”

Then my pants are pulled down my thighs, and she’s on her knees in front of me. My body responds instantaneously. What’s the harm, really? We’re already here. I’m going to end it. Maybe she knows it, too, that this is our goodbye. That we will not do this again.

We will not do this again, I assert to myself as I lean back against the wall. I roll my head to the left as pleasure overwhelms me. I don’t even flinch when I spot a fox frozen at the corner of the building, watching us. It’s no bigger than a cat. Cassie continues to take me in, farther down her throat, then pulls back almost entirely as the fox and I lock eyes.

This is the last time, I vow to the fox.

He snorts, then darts up the hill behind Cassie.