The Accidental Mistress

chapter Six

An Island sun is different; this had been very true for her home. Maybe it's the longitude, latitude of the mountainous regions of Martinique. Maybe the sun's celestial placement in the sky had purposefully been created by God to deliver the message of beauty over her homeland. Or it could be that only in Martinique could a person really feel the serenity of nature. Of course Zuri knew there is only one sun to which the earth rotates on its axis. But Martinique sunsets evoked such poetry that she could imagine this sun was theirs alone. The sinking rays bled swirls of violet, red, and yellow across a darkening sky. As a girl, Zuri would stand on her parent's balcony and watch until every trace of the day faded away. She wished for that peaceful calm now.

Ste. Marie was windward. Her home and their resort faced the Atlantic Ocean as opposed to the Caribbean Ocean where Fort de France was located. The winds, climate, and even the waves were different. Though tourists frequented Ste. Marie, she understood why her father wanted to expand his business to Fort de France. Zuri knew the reasons for many things now. She dropped her elbows to the top of the banister with a heartfelt sigh.

A shotgun fired. A flock of tropical birds lifted from the leafy safety of the mangrove. As a child, she would have never known what a gun blast was. Even now, it was a strange occurrence. She guessed it to be a hoodlum showing off, or maybe it was the gendarmerie. Firearms were not permitted on the island. The penalty was very stiff, but that didn’t mean they don't surface time and again. The idea of Western issues flooding her island, made her angry. Martinique was paradise, and its tranquility was earned after the suffering of her people under French occupation. Therefore, it should remain sacred.

Zuri closed her eyes. What did it or any of it matter now? A fresh ocean breeze washed over her feverish face. Her existence and her parent's story was a different one. When the Lefebvre who were Békés—direct descendants from the original French settlers—owned her home, it had been a banana plantation. It was her father who made the change after his adoptive parents died tragically one year in a plane crash and he became the benefactor. Mulattos who employed darker skinned natives to work factories and would marry Metros (men and women born in France) before a family of their stature would consider a Haitian orphan as a suitor. But Claude Baptiste would not be denied. One look at Nanette and he was determined to have her. That was her parent's love story. There were times when she pressed her mother for more details, but Nanette managed to change the subject.

Claude invested wisely. He built the Lagoon Resort as a playground for the rich, despite the choppy waters along its white and yellow sandy beaches. The Lagoon had lived up to its name with exclusivity for its guests and hot springs about which many across the globe raved.

"Zuri?"

"Hi, Joi," she said sadly, not bothering to turn around.

"Père is up. If you want to see him again, you still can."

"In a minute. I need to get my head together."

Joi walked up and she leaned against the railing like Zuri, staring at nothing. "Are you okay?"

"You and mère should have told me the minute it happened. Her I understand, but you know better. What if he...what if it was worse?"

"You have the bar exam to take. I didn't want—"

"So what? Did you not think that I love him? Love this family?"

"Zuri, of course we know you do. He's proud of you. We all are. We just wanted to protect you."

Zuri shook her head. Her sister wasn't at fault. If they perceived her law degree to be that important, it was only because Zuri shouted it to her lungs when she defied her father's wishes and remained in the States.

"Well it's my turn to protect you. I'm going back to Fort de France with you and help you deal with these Montague people."

"The exam is most important. You got that nice job in Chicago; they paid for your graduate studies, for your exam. You have to go back."

"How can I? If père loses the Oasis, the Lagoon, or this place, it will kill him. You and I both know that. He doesn't deserve to be in there paralyzed. We have to protect him, Joi. He's done that for us."

Joi smiled. "I'm in over my head. I admit that."

Zuri hugged her sister. She had changed. Her hair, now shoulder length, was dark with a riot of curls, electric blue streaks and was styled in a fashionable way. She was a woman now, fiercely independent and uniquely free spirited. And she had found her identity and purpose right here at home.

"I promise you we'll beat this and save our family. We're Claude Baptiste daughters after all. We learned from the best!" Zuri said.

***

Christophe strolled out to his balcony for some night air. From his elevated view, the New York skyline twinkled. He sipped his lager. The day had ended reasonably well, but a visit with his mother always set him on edge. He considered hitting the gym but dismissed the idea when he remembered the pile of work waiting for him in his briefcase. A night in front of the TV with Sports Center on, and a belly full of a microwave dinner was in his future.

Christophe leaned out over his balcony. Bachelorhood had become so predictably gratifying he doubted he'd ever feel the need for more. His eyes lifted to the moon. There were times when he considered something missing in his life. Times when he reflected on his choices, and his abandoned dreams, and even more there were moments that he remembered Zuri.

Christophe sipped his beer again. She was the last woman he held and felt something. Every inch of her, including how sweetly she felt in his arms, was burned into his brain. Why shouldn't she enter his thoughts when his lonely existence became his glaring truth? His self-imposed bachelorhood had a no-strings attachment clause that most women shied away from. The few beauties to share his bed often thought they’d convince him otherwise and he’d immediately end all contact. In the past six months he just settled on celibacy.


Christophe raised his beer and saluted the moon. “To bachelorhood.”

Christophe tossed the final swallow of beer down. The phone in his pocket vibrated, which he removed and swiped his thumb over the display to activate the caller. "Yes?"

“Got your message, cousin. Its' a go. We can leave tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Not what, who.”

“Awe the old girl came in and started to go after you again.”

“Never mind that. I'll be ready. I've cleared my calendar. If this island is as pretty as you say it is, it's what I need.”

“Trust me. Martinique is what the doctor ordered.”

***

"Ma Petite, he's asleep. Go to bed," her mother said.

Zuri sat at her father's side watching him breathe. "Will you sleep in here with him?"

"No. Not yet. He needs rest. I'll be in the room next door."

"Someone needs to be in here to make sure he's...okay." She adjusted his sheet, and tucked him in. Her mother's soft chuckle made her frown. She looked back into her mother's eyes and realized how manic she had become.

Nanette Baptiste took her daughter by the hand and forced her to rise. She walked her out of the veranda doors to her parent’s room, then out on the small balcony. The full moon cast their shadows and the mangroves below in a silvery light. "What did I tell you as a girl?"

"Pays des Revenants," Zuri said softly. "Land to which one returns."

"Oui chérie. He never lost hope that you'd come home eventually. Neither did I. You needed to go and spread your wings. Do not feel any guilt for that. He's proud of you and so am I. You can leave tonight and go take that test to be an American lawyer and it wouldn't change."

Zuri turned into her mother's arms. She held to her, burying her face into her shoulder as she released a final cry. She wasn't going anywhere. This was where she belonged. The land to which one returns.