Sitting on the beach under an umbrella is more therapeutic than I had ever imagined. My flight had landed fine, and after checking into my resort, I had gone down to the beach. That was yesterday. I made the migration to my hut for dinner, too much of the liquor cabinet, and then bed. This morning, I had some coffee, a light pastry breakfast, and came right back here, to the beach.
Some friends of mine used to always post pictures on Facebook, of some lounge chairs next to the blue water, and a white sand beach. I used to see those, and think, ‘Yeah, that would be nice.’ Sitting here, now, I knew that those pictures could never do justice to the peace that I felt.
There was a nice warm breeze, and it was a perfect 83 degrees out. The place I had chosen was a semi-private beach area, so all the public beach goers were much further down from me. I could see the little dots of people from afar, but they wouldn’t be interrupting my calm. The waves were small but constant, with a very occasional larger wave that would just get high enough to crest. The white plume of spray from those waves made a wonderful splashing sound.
The sand was pure, and the water as clear as glass. I could stare at this for hours, and do so with almost no thoughts running through my over-worked brain, aside from the beauty before me. Off in the distance, over the water, were a few wisps of clouds. Behind me, around the beach hut, stood dozens of large and proud palm trees, surrounded by what looked like very large versions of the Rhododendrons of the Northwest. I saw pink, purple, white, and even some red blooms on these plants. Color everywhere was the theme here.
Of course, all good things must come to an end. As I sat, my phone buzzed once. I checked and it was a text message from Maddy:
Love and miss you daddy!
Plz call
Hope to see you soon
Luv Maddy
This simple message brought a single tear to my eye. I would do anything for my little girl, but I think the one thing she wanted, would be the one thing I could not give. She wanted her perfect family back. Sadly, she’s not alone. I wish I had that back too, but now we were way past going back to what we used to be.
I text back to her:
Love you too baby!
Just trying to relax here
Will call tonight, promise
Love you MORE!
The one thing I would need to remember was the time difference. With her on the East coast, and me in Hawaii, it was at least a 6 to 7 hour time zone difference between us. I would have to double-check that. Well, with that message, my perfect beach day was put on hold. I got back up and wandered back to my hut.
For the first time in a very long time, I had nothing to do. I mean, literally no one was waiting for me to do something, and no one was depending on me. I didn’t have any jobs that I needed to rush off for, and I had no urgent meetings or calls to attend to. The feeling was both extremely liberating, and a bit disorienting. I wasn’t going to try too hard to keep busy though. I decided that I would adopt the philosophy of some of my favorite cartoon characters; ‘Hakuna Matata’. I was once told, roughly translated it means ‘no worries’. Thanks, Timon and Pumba, for letting me steal your saying. I chuckled to myself, at my inside joke.
I made myself a sandwich and fruit cup, from the items I found in the stocked fridge. This was turning out to be the best vacation I had ever gone on. Sadly, that brought on the thought that it SHOULD have been with Caitlin. Well, fuck… that ruined my good mood some just thinking about it. I had successfully kept her and our situation from entering my brain for almost a whole day, but now it was driving its way back in with force.
Before my day could get too fucked up, I turned to the liquor cabinet. This was fully stocked as well. When in paradise, one must enjoy all that is provided. I should copyright that, perhaps. It might make a decent Hallmark card. Regardless, I found what I was looking for, and took the bottle down.
I poured at least a shot or two into a large cup, added some unlabeled bottle of fruit juice to the Rum, and stirred. It smelled like it might be pineapple, but whatever it was, tasted great. I would have to ask what kind of juice this was, so I could get some more later on. I put a straw in the cup, grabbed my lunch, and walked back down the beach, to sit in the lounger.
Sitting there, I raised my glass to the blue sky. “Here is to the memory of my marriage!” I lowered it, and took a nice long gulp. The sky did not toast me back, but I think it understood. Maybe I was starting to lose it a bit, but either way, I decided that I was going to be just fine.
I ate my lunch in peace. After finishing, I decided it was time to get in at least a few minutes of productivity in my day. I would make some calls to tie up the loose ends still floating. I would need to call Sandra and Tony, to get things sorted legally back home. Also, there was the matter of where to live.
Time for call number one. I just hoped that Tony was still at his office. I dialed his number, and it rang three times before he answered.
“Tony here, is that you James?”
“Yeah, it’s me. So, are there any updates to my situation?”
“Somewhat, yes. I filed the motion with the court to have him removed as partner. The judge put a temporary hold on it, seeing as how Cyrus is only charged and not convicted. Also, the feds demanded copies of all the business records, thanks to Cyrus and his side activities. The good news is that Cyrus skipped bail. He was supposed to show up for a hearing today, but missed it. This is very good for your case, and your eventual sale. I still have that guy on the west coast interested, once this mess with Cyrus gets taken care of. You should be getting the email today with the power of attorney that we discussed as well.”
“OK, I will get that back to you as soon as I get it. As for the sale and Cyrus situation, keep me posted.”
We both hung up, not really needing to waste time with goodbyes. So that idiot skipped bail, huh? What’s next? Is he going to rob a bank? How the hell did I not see all of his flaws before I got into business with him? They were always there, but it seems I overlooked them. Another life lesson I suppose.
This drink sure did taste good, after having yet another sip. Before I could make another call, my phone buzzed from an incoming call. The caller ID said it was Curt Simpson, I wonder what he wanted.
“Hello this is James.”
“Mr. Holmes, this is Curt Simpson. We were watching your wife’s house last night, and have something to report to you.”
“Go on,” I said, interested now.