Page 51 of Parentmoon

A defensive wall snaps into place around me. I turn and take my time to casually swim back to the beach stairs by wading in the shallow ocean and wallowing in my own disappointment. Why can’t I be an easygoing person? What’s wrong with me, if I’m not?

Dallas is close behind me once I exit the water. When I reach for a towel to dry off, he does the same.

“You two are so cute. Are you celebrating something? An anniversary maybe?” a woman asks.

The questions come from a younger couple, maybe mid-thirties, who have taken chairs beside ours. With two small children playing in the hard sand around them, they are a picture-perfect family.

“We’re on our honeymoon,” Dallas mutters, removing his baseball cap and rubbing the towel over his barely-there hair.

“Congratulations,” the woman says.

Her congratulations shakes me from the stupor created by Dallas’s response. “He means parentmoon.”

The couple looks at one another before the woman gazes back at me puzzled.

“Never mind,” I mumble and reach for my bag, seeking my phone to check the time. Dallas excuses himself for a drink and I feel even worse about what just happened in the water, until I see a missed call from Keli.

Immediately, I hit her number.

“Keli, honey, are you okay?” I’m worried about both Michael and her.

“Hey, Jo. My dad mentioned you were with him in Belize, and I’ve been trying to get in touch with him. Is he with you right now, by chance?”

Keli knows I’m here? With her dad? I have so many questions, but I bite my inner cheek. “Sure, honey. Just a second.” Hastily, I cross the lounging area and find Dallas seated on a stool in the shade of the open-air bar. Despite the numerous vacant seats, an attractive woman sits on the stool next to him, leaning on her arms in his direction and laughing about something. With her long, raven hair and richly tanned skin, she’s an island beauty if I’ve ever seen one. Not a hint of her age creases her face.

“Dallas. It’s Keli.” Holding out my phone, I eye the woman beside him. Everything in me wants to stand still and listen, learn how Keli is doing, and perhaps Michael, too. Instead, I make eye contact with the woman beside Dallas, nod once, and hand over my phone, stepping away to allow Dallas privacy with his daughter.

Tears prickle my eyes as I return to my lounger, waiting out their phone call. I’m sick that Michael hadn’t called me today. Sad that he didn’t even respond to my text. Upset that Dallas made another woman laugh.

I’m so stupid.

Maybe Michael called his own father, although I highly doubt he’d go to Craig for comfort or advice.

Within a few minutes, which felt like an hour, Dallas holds my phone over my shoulder. Glancing up at him, I take the device.

“Is everything all right?”

Dallas nods, his face still disgruntled though I can’t decide if it’s me or Keli.

“I’m a little sunshined out. Mind if we head back?”

We’ve been here for hours, but it’s only mid-afternoon. Apparently, our day is done. So much for no longer thinking of Michael and Keli.

“Sure.” I stand and gather my things, slipping on my cover-up.

“Enjoy your parentmoon,” the woman beside our seats calls out, cheerful and encouraging. Unfortunately, any kind of phase seems to be over.

But when we walk to the golf cart, Dallas surprises me by hooking his pinky finger with mine momentarily.

Then we climb into the cart and the thirty-minute ride back to our resort feels like a lifetime, or a death sentence.

Chapter 13

While I’m still upset about the lost opportunity near the pier, I’m equally stewing about Dallas flirting with another woman moments after things didn’t happen between us. Then there’s the call from Keli, leaving me a turmoil of emotions clashing into one another.

Dallas is quieter than normal. However, I refuse to feel guilty for not having sex in a public place in broad daylight, but something else niggles inside me. Dallas making that other woman laugh sets off triggers of times when Craig told me I needed to be more insistent about wanting him. As in, I needed to initiate sex, make him feel wanted which is a difficult task when you don’t feel desired yourself. An additionally difficult directive when you’re certain your husband is sleeping with someone else.

By the time we return to the resort, we haven’t said two words to each other. Dallas handles the golf cart return and I take my time to walk to his place, reflecting on the past hours. The day started out so beautiful and sweet. His words in the chapel. His desire to distract me at the beach.