Hemingway's Girl (35 page)

Mariella looked at the people in the room and loved them deeply. In a rush, she felt
the physical melancholy of vacation’s end settle over her. Its shadow fell over everyone
in the room. She knew all these people would start leaving, and they would have to
go back to work, and she would be without Gavin during the week, and hurricane season
would rush into full swing. Instead of the joy and expectation of time left on holiday,
she felt the dread of numbered days, and even though she missed her family greatly,
she knew that these people would never again be together, like this, on an island
at the edge of the world.

Gavin and Mariella built a fire down the beach from the hotel so they could have some
privacy. They spent most of the time kissing on the blanket, wrapped up in each other,
and watching stars move over the sky. They fell asleep for a short time, but the bugs
were biting, so they parted with reluctance.

When Mariella arrived back at her room she put on a nightshirt, combed out her hair,
and crawled into bed. While she lay waiting for sleep to come, she noticed an envelope
on the nightstand with a red hibiscus flower on it. Mariella sat up, pushed the flower
off the envelope, and opened it.

Inside was all the money she’d bet on the fight.

Mariella felt a wave of sadness as she watched the seaplane take off and get smaller
and smaller in the blue sky, taking Gavin away from her, back to the place she craved.
She dreaded all of their return flights home and knew she’d worry about Gavin until
she got word he was safe. She stood alone at the end of the pier for a long time after
he left, imagining his kiss and desperately wishing she could go with him.

The ache of missing her mother and sisters had grown to real, physical pain. She was
worried that her mother might have regressed again. She missed taking the girls to
the beach. She missed reading to Estelle and drawing pictures with Lulu. She missed
John.

The mood on Bimini had changed. After Gavin’s departure, Jinny left. Then Jane left.

They all walked down to the pier to see Jane off.

“I can’t wait to see you all in Cuba later this summer,” said Jane. “And I hope you’ll
come, too, Mariella.”

Mariella thought she’d love to go to Cuba. Maybe she could even find out about her
mother’s family. She didn’t have much time to think about this, however, because Pauline’s
face turned red and she shot a look at Papa. “What do you mean?”

“Jane was kind enough to extend us an invitation to Cuba at
the end of August for marlin fishing,” he said. “Then I can leave
Pilar
with Carlos for hurricane season.”

Suddenly everything seemed silent. The waves didn’t even dare make noise.

“Were you planning on discussing this with me?” asked Pauline. “I’ve got organizing
to do for the boys’ schooling. I have to figure out when we’ll visit my family in
Arkansas. I have to plan for our trip to New York.”

“Well, you don’t need to go to Cuba,” said Papa.

Mariella cringed and her heart started racing. Papa clearly didn’t care whether he
hurt Pauline. It even seemed as if he tried to upset her.

Pauline stared at him for a moment and then looked at Jane. Jane crossed the dock
and squeezed Pauline’s shoulders.

“I really hope you’ll join us,” said Jane with sincerity in her voice. “It wouldn’t
be the same without you.” She leaned in, kissed Pauline on the cheek, then turned
and climbed aboard her plane.

Jane tied a kerchief around her hair and gave Mariella a wink. She waved at them with
the grace and elegance of a movie star as the plane took off. It was out of sight
within minutes.

Mariella started to walk back to the hotel. She wanted to get away from Pauline and
Papa as soon as she could. She hadn’t gone far before she heard the hisses and shouts
beginning. She couldn’t make out their words, but she didn’t need to hear to know
what Pauline was saying.

The days became intolerably long and hot. Record temperature highs, little to no wind,
and the biting flies and mosquitoes made everyone grumpy. The island’s charm waned,
and they were all short with one another. Pauline barely spoke to Papa, and he was
especially moody without a manuscript to occupy him, with poor fishing, and with the
Pilar
acting up.

Then a letter came from Gavin that haunted Mariella almost more than she could stand.

Mariella folded the letter back into the envelope and placed it on her bedside table.
She crawled into bed with her hands shaking, and barely slept that night.

What finally pushed her into near-hysteria was the telegram she received the next
day.

Lulu’s sick. Please come home. Mama.

Mariella burst into Papa and Pauline’s room without knocking. Pauline stopped painting
her nails. Papa looked up over his glasses at Mariella.

“I’ve got to go home,” said Mariella. “Lulu’s sick. My mother sent for me.”

Papa put down his paper. “But the next plane doesn’t leave until Friday. That’s days
away. Did the telegram say anything else?”

“No,” said Mariella, thrusting the paper into Papa’s hands. She fought the urge to
cry.

Papa read it. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked up at Mariella.

“Then we’ll go.”

Pauline looked at him sharply. “Today?”

“That’s not possible,” said Papa. “I’ve got to do some work on the
Pilar
, and I hope to God she’ll make the return trip. But we can’t wait until Friday. This
appears urgent. We’ll go tomorrow.”

Mariella lunged into Papa with a hug that nearly knocked him over in his chair. Pauline
walked over to the window and looked out at the boys fishing in the surf.

“I don’t know how we’ll all pack up our entire summer in such a short time,” said
Pauline. “Surely a few days won’t make a difference. This happens all the time to
your sister, doesn’t it?”

Panic rose in Mariella. Something felt different this time. She didn’t want to beg,
but she had to get home. Papa saved her from humiliating herself.

“Tell Ada to start packing the boys’ things,” said Papa. “You get our stuff ready
once your nails have dried. If it’s not too much trouble,” he added with sarcasm.

Mariella was filled with gratitude, and relief washed over her. It all left her, though,
when she saw Pauline glare at her. The last time she’d seen that venomous stare it
had been directed at Jane Mason.

After Mariella helped Ada pack for the boys and for herself, she sent a return telegram
to Gavin. She asked him to check in on Eva and the girls, and assure them she’d get
home as soon as possible. She sent him some words of condolence about the vet’s suicide
and told him she would be there for him when she returned.

It didn’t take Mariella long to get ready, so waiting on the island was agonizing,
especially with Pauline’s open hostility. Mariella found it ironic that when she felt
least attracted to Hemingway, Pauline was angriest at her. She decided to stay out
of Pauline’s way, and hoped that her mood would improve once they returned to Key
West.

That night Mariella couldn’t sleep. She prayed earnestly to God that Lulu would be
okay. She prayed that they’d make quick time on the
Pilar
, and that Pauline didn’t hate her. Sleep finally came, but was plagued with nightmares.

Mariella dreamed that Gavin was sick. He was feverish and his nose was bleeding. His
arm hung over the side of the bed, the
11-11-18
tattoo showing like an exclamation on his arm. Then she turned and saw Lulu in another
bed, sick and feverish. Mariella looked down and saw a white uniform. She was a nurse
in a war hospital. Moaning coming from behind her caused her to turn. It was John.
His severed legs bled on the bed. They were angry red stumps, and he cried and grabbed
at them while a doctor tried to restrain him. Mariella turned to run and saw her father—wet,
blue, and cold on a stretcher. A nurse covered him, and two men carried him away.

Thunder rumbled outside and jerked Mariella awake. She was wet with her own sweat
from the dream and the heat. The window was open like a mouth gasping for air, but
all that came into the room was the sound of the crashing waves.

Mariella lay in bed, trying to blot the bad dream from her mind, but it was still
vividly before her. She got up and went into the bathroom to splash her face with
cold water, then walked over to the window. She saw heat lightning far out over the
Gulf Stream, followed by thunder, rolling in a slow growl toward the island. In front
of the waves was a solitary figure. She strained her eyes and saw that it was Papa.
He stood staring out at the lightning and the water. His shoulders sagged and his
arms were crossed over himself. He looked so lonely.