Bad Son Rising (12 page)

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Authors: Julie A. Richman

BOOK: Bad Son Rising
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As he ran around the lake he thought about the night before. She seemed to be genuinely interested in getting to know him and he was positive there was something going on between them, he could feel the tension. Or at least he thought he could, but now he was questioning whether it was his imagination, or more likely, wishful thinking. Were they really vibing? He wished that Liz was there to observe and tell him what was really going on. Lily was so aloof, yet he was sure there was this undeniable energy between them - at least undeniable to him. Every time he touched her, it was painful to let her go. He just wanted to draw her into him closer, consume her, be consumed by her.

What is it about you, Liliana Castillo?
he asked himself, and not for the first time. What was so perplexing to him was that he wanted to take care of this woman who didn’t need anyone to take care of her. But he felt very protective of her. Like she was his. Except she wasn’t his. Hell, a woman who picks up and takes off on her own for the wilds of the Congo, could she be anybody’s but her own? And he realized he wanted to be a part of that. Or at least a partner to it.

The dining hall was quieter than usual for an early Saturday morning and Zac suspected he wouldn’t be seeing most of the staff until the lunch hour, and even then, the crew would probably still be sparse after the partying of the night before. With a large steaming mug of rich coffee from the Kivu region of the neighboring Democratic Republic of Congo, Zac scoured a week old edition of the Congo-Brazzaville newspaper.

As was typical, he smelled her before seeing her, finding himself smiling into his coffee mug as she sat down.

“Good morning,” her voice was husky from screaming over the prior night’s party music. “You’re up early.”

“I’ve already been running.” He smiled at her, and then, “Good morning.”

“I’ve been thinking about last night,” she plowed right into the topic with typical Liliana Castillo intensity, no use for pleasantries or small talk.

“Oh,” he raised his eyebrows, urging her to go on.

“The only way to become friends is to get to know someone, right?”

Nodding, it was hard to focus on what she was saying when he was caught up in the intensity of the gold flames surrounding her pupils.

“You have really great eyes,” he didn’t realize that he had actually said it out loud until he saw the surprised look on her face. A little embarrassed by his gaffe, he smiled sheepishly, “Hold that thought,” and he got up from the table.

Returning with two fresh mugs of coffee, he handed one to her as he sat down. “You were saying…”

“Why aren’t we friends, Zac?”

He could tell she needed the answer. And his heart soared knowing that she’d been thinking about it.
Yes!

“It’s not that we’re not friends, Lily, and I think we could actually be friends. Maybe even good friends. We have a lot in common. Probably more than you ever suspected.”

Nodding, “Yes, I didn’t think we had anything in common the first time we met, but you’re right, I think we do.”

“We’re from similar backgrounds. We know what it’s like to grow up in Newport Beach, what it’s like to come from families with high achievers.”

She rolled her eyes at his last statement, causing him to laugh.

“We’re both dedicated to the work here. It meets who we are better than being flunkies to some doctors at our fathers’ project in Zambia. We need to be on the front lines making a difference, that’s who we are. I have a feeling that although we come off very differently, that you like the edge as much as I do. There’s no place in your life for safe.” As he verbalized it, he realized that he wasn’t just feeding Liliana a line to get in her pants, they really did share a lot, including this very major passion for their work in the Congo.

Shaking her head, yes, “Totally. You totally get it. That is absolutely me.”

As she picked up her mug to take a sip, she leaned in, her eyebrows knit together questioningly. “So, why aren’t we friends, Zac?”

Biting on his tongue to make sure he didn’t mistakenly verbalize his thoughts again, he was dying to say to her, “Lily, open your freaking eyes. If I go anywhere near you, that douche monkey of a boyfriend, or whatever the hell he is to you, will make sure I’m not within one hundred miles of you for the remainder of my TDY.”

“You tell me, Lily?” was how he managed to respond.

Lowering her eyes, a blush crept up her neck, illuminating her creamy skin.

In a move even he didn’t anticipate, Zac reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. Squeezing back, that little half smile appeared.

“What are you doing this afternoon?” she asked.

He shrugged and smiled, not answering.

“I’m going to the market in the village to buy some bracelets and stuff to send home. Do you want to come with me?”

Zac’s smile was slow and seductive, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“No,” she protested, pulling her hand from his, “it’s not a date.”

“Oh, too bad,” he hit her with his gorgeous smile hoping to get another blush out of her.

She didn’t disappoint.

“Sure I’ll come with you. Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to buy the market out and you’re just inviting me because you need someone to carry your stuff back?”

With the most coquettish look he’d ever seen on her pretty face, and the closest to flirting he’d yet to witness in her demeanor, Lily rose from the table, and with a fling of her long, silky mane, announced, “I’ll meet you right outside here in an hour.”

As he watched her leave the building, Zac sat back in his chair and stretched out his long legs. Sipping his coffee, he couldn’t help but smile. He had his first date with Liliana Castillo.

Lily sorted through trays of Malachite bracelets and bone bead necklaces while Zac checked out market stalls with hand carved animals for Nathaniel and Portia.

Coming up behind him, “Those are really cute. Are they for your brother and sister?”

Smiling, he nodded and he was surprised to see the smile in her eyes. What Zac didn’t know was that Lily was responding to the look of pure love radiating from his eyes at just the mention of Heckle and Jeckle.

“You were there with them in Zambia, when my dad and Mia first met Portia. What was she like?” he asked as they walked on. Stopping at a stand with local snacks, Zac bought them each a cup of Ngalakh, a porridge-like dessert made from couscous, peanut butter and bouye, the fruit of the Baobab tree.

As they walked along, enjoying the sweet dessert, Lily filled him in on those first days his dad and Mia had with the toddler who would become his little sister. “She was adorable, she took to Mia right away. She chose them. There was a bond that formed between her and Mia almost immediately. I think it took her a few days to figure out that your dad was with Mia and it was the cutest thing, she started flirting with him.”

Zac laughed, “She has him totally wrapped around her finger. He is just mush with her. She is definitely a daddy’s girl.”

They walked along in an easy silence, stopping at the different stalls.

“Now that I’m here,” Zac began, “it’s really mind blowing to think what her life was like and what it’s like now. She’s a New York City kid now, living in a loft in SoHo, with a summer house on the beach.” He looked around at the bright-colored, humble shacks.

Lily laughed and Zac immediately thought, what an amazing sound.

“Wow. I can’t even imagine what those first months were like for her.” She retreated into her head for a few minutes. “The orphanage she was at in Zambia was really nice though. I mean it was an orphanage, but it’s a really good facility and Dr. Banda and his wife, the people that run it, are amazing.”

Zac nodded, but didn’t speak. The thought of his little sister being in any environment other than with their family made his heart hurt and his throat burn. He could picture her little face, big brown eyes staring at him intently, usually telling him, “Daddy’s mad at you,” and the thought made him laugh, the lump in his throat immediately dissolving.

“What’s so funny?” Lily put a hand on his arm.

Feeling the heat under her touch, he wanted to grab her and pull her against him tightly, but he just smiled and said, “I’m thinking about the many mornings she has woken me up to the words, ‘Daddy’s mad at you’.”

And there it was again, that sound, Lily’s laugh. It had a warm, husky quality to it.

“Oh Zac, look,” she was pointing at a stall slightly ahead that caught her eye where brightly colored batik fabrics hung. “Let’s go there.”

Following her, she was immediately engaged by the stall owner who convinced her to step behind the curtain to try on the flowing blouses and dresses.

Wandering off, Zac took in the sights and smells of the market, stopping here and there at things that caught his eye. Smiling to himself, he was amazed that he was sharing this with Lily and that it was so normal, just a nice day with two friends. It occurred to him that this was like something he might do with Liz, except he was attracted to and entranced by Lily. She was so different than the girls — or women — with whom he’d been involved. She had substance. There was nothing frivolous or shallow about her.

And here they were, having a good time. She was having a good time with him. With a flash of sudden clarity, he was struck by something so profound and yet so simple. They were taking the time to become friends, putting in the effort to get to know one another, build stories together and it was fun.
Was the key to it all really that easy?
he wondered.
Could it really be this simple?
Or maybe it was this simple because he and Lily really were right for one another, a complementary odd couple.

The sun’s glint on the silver attracted him to a booth across the dusty thoroughfare. Neatly lined up were trays of silver and copper rings, bracelets and necklaces adorned with a multitude of symbols. Picking up one that immediately caught his eye, Zac turned the ring looking at all its different hieroglyphic-like markings.

“You like?” the toothless stall keeper smiled at him.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful. But what does it mean?”

Reaching underneath the counter, the man pulled out a piece of paper covered in plastic entitled,
Adinkra Index
. The list showed each of the symbols with its name in Twi followed by the symbol’s description and the meaning in English.

Scanning the list for the first symbol on the ring, he found its match, Eban, a fence depicting love, safety and security. Moving on to the next marking on the ring, he again consulted the list and found Osram Ne Nsoromma, the moon and the star, meaning love, faithfulness and harmony. He then found the corresponding symbol on the chart for Odo Nnyew Fie Kwan, signifying love never loses its way home and the power of love. And then Me Ware Wo, I shall marry you, expressing love and commitment. He didn’t have to read any further.

His second thought was to immediately put the ring back in the tray with the others.

He went with his first thought.

“How much?” It really didn’t matter what the man said to him, he had to have the ring. Whether he would ever give it to her or if it would just end up being a memento of his time in Africa, he did not know. Either way if there were a graphic depiction that meant happiness on a sunny Saturday afternoon in the Congo with a girl he wanted to spend every waking moment getting to know, that’s what this ring would always symbolize for him. And she wanted to get to know him. That alone would always set this day apart from any other he’d ever experienced.

The stall keeper put the ring in a small burlap pouch with leather draw strings and handed it to Zac. Taking the pouch and sticking it deep in the front right pocket of his jeans, he smiled as it touched another item that was always in his right front pocket. Nestled against each other were an heirloom money clip given to him by his grandfather that had been handed down from his great—great-great grandfather and what he would forever think of as ‘Lily’s ring’.

Finding Lily with significantly more packages than he had left her with, Zac laughed at the sight of her.

“Give me those,” reaching out, he relieved her of the bundles.

With a sheepish look, she handed over the parcels.

“See, I wasn’t wrong before,” he bumped her with his shoulder, his hands now encumbered. “You asked me to come with you because you needed a schlepper.”

“A schlepper, huh,” she mulled his words. And with an almost devilish glint in her eyes, she laughed, “Yup. You’re right.”

And he laughed along with her.

Reaching up and squeezing his formidable bicep, “I knew with these, you’d make a fine schlepper.”

Zac smiled down at her. Liliana Castillo was joking around with him. Who would have ever thought this day would come? And what surprised him even more than that was how easy it was with her. But the biggest surprise of all was how easy it was for him.

Longing to sling an arm over her shoulder, and pull her into him as they walked, the irony didn’t escape him that she had his hands tied. Inwardly, he laughed,
I’m already a slave to this woman.

With camp now in view, Zac felt a dread descending. He didn’t want the day to end. A déjà vu of when she left him on the dance floor at his father’s wedding was permeating his thoughts.

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