Rating: R

Summary: Last day of vacation...sob!

Spoilers: Nah.
 

MICHAEL:

April 4, 2001
 

God, I wake up and I realize this is the last real day of vacation.

Bummer.

This has just been the greatest trip.

I mean, obviously, with Kelly...this has just been so fantastic.

I love her so much.

And I got to see how really cool Jo could be. And she is. I can see why she and my dad are such good buds. I always wondered how they could just sit and not say anything for hours, but now I know.

And it's almost like they're not saying nothing. It's just that they don't use words all the time. They don't seem like they have to.

And my dad has started telling me stuff. Stuff I want to know about him but I was always too chickenshit to ask him because I figured he'd get all upset and stuff.

He probably still would, but he's let a little cat out of the bag. I feel like I know him a little better, and with Dad, well, a little better is probably as good as it gets.

Okay, I did gain some weight. I know I did. All my clothes are tight. So I guess you could say there's been one small downer.

On the other hand, all the food's been fantastic. And Jo's taking us all out tonight. Her treat. She says my dad's gonna pick the place, because he knows the area, and she's gonna treat us.

I don't want to go home!

I mean, I could be at home, working my newly chubby little ass off, not sleeping enough, doing my homework, trying to sneak in some Kelly time, dealing with my teachers...or I could be here, listening to the ocean, going out swimming every day, hearing Jo and my dad tell stories, loving Kelly...

Which would you choose? I mean, duh!

Still, I guess all good things come to an end, and I'm gonna make the most of this day. It's gonna be great.

Dad's snoring away on the other sofa. He's had a couple good nights now. Who knew? I mean, he's really slept. And he wasn't the first one up yesterday, or today.

Today, that honor belongs to me.

I'm gonna see if Kelly wants to be second.
 

Kelly's snoozing when I come in, but when I lie down next to her, she wakes up a little. Her poor nose is bright red. She's still sort of snuffly.

She gives a good cough when she wakes up-here, I was hoping we could go swimming today. Maybe she still can. Jo says if she's got no fever today, she can go in the water, so long as she's not sounding like it sunk in her chest.

Well, she doesn't cough like I did when I was sick, so that's good.

She flips over on top of me. She's still not all the way awake, but she's on me, and moving, and we start kissing...and we just kind of take it from there.

She is so fantastic. Her hands are real soft, and I love the way her skin feels on mine. And that mouth.

I wonder if I could convince her to use that mouth in other areas.

I'm not gonna ask her. I'll let it be her idea. We got time. I waited this long to do this, and God, it was worth it.

I get the weirdest sensation when I go inside her. I mean, it's fantastic. Like you would expect. But it's like way more than just feeling warm and wet.

It's like...I feel complete. Like a missing part got found. The best part.

I try real hard not to scream when she makes me come. And it's even harder today, because today, she comes with me. I can feel her squeezing me, and it's just so incredible...and watching her face, it's like, I can't stop.

She's an angel. She's my angel.

I'm trying so hard to be hers.
 

The big kids are still out of it when we wake up. It occurs to me that we've never taken a shower together. I suggest this, but Kelly's like, the tub is one thing. The shower, well, that's her private domain.

Okay, and the shower here is pretty damn small.

Maybe later we can get in the tub together again. And this time not have to worry about what the big kids are gonna do.

Because they're probably not gonna do anything.

I don't think Dad likes it that Kelly and me are making love right under his nose, but he seems like, well, they're gonna do it. And Jo, well, she's been kind of sticking up for us. Which is very cool.

Jo is a lot cooler than I thought. I knew she had a guy in 'Nam, Dad told me, but it was really neat to hear about it. She loved him so much. And she still does. You'd think she'd find her life kind of a downer, but it's like, even though Jo doesn't say a whole lot, and she isn't the sort of person who normally does a lot of laughing or joking around, she's a happy person.

She's been real happy down here. I think she had a blast. And Kelly just thinks she's the coolest.

What's cool about Jo is she doesn't pretend like she always had it so together. She's not afraid to tell us she's been a mess sometimes. That her life really sucked, and it was real hard to get it together. And she doesn't make like a huge deal out of it. Jo just like, she leans on people when she needs to, and it gets her by. And she tells us not to be chickenshit about doing the same.

And it's kind of cool that Dad is like, he's not so worried maybe about telling me what makes him afraid and crazy. I think he wants to look like he's real cool to me, and that's fine, but I like it better when he tells me what's really going on with him.

Now at least I know why he's kind of weird around water.

Kelly and me, we need to do something about that.
 

We end up falling back asleep for a little while, and then finally Kelly gets up and wants to get in the shower, and I let her go first, which is a major sacrifice for a hot water glutton like me.

The things we do for love.

I'm still in Kelly's bed-fortunately, I got the covers over me, and my nearsightedness makes me not realize the door's not closed all the way. Jo peers in, says hi. I guess I jump a little, but she smiles like, don't get all uptight, it's only me.

"Hope we didn't wake you up," I tell her. I was trying real hard to be quiet.

"I've been awake. I wanted to finish my trashy book and have a few cigarettes on this last day. I'm making some coffee. See you down there."

I wonder how much she heard.

We could have provided a real interesting backdrop to her trashy book.
 

Dad's awake, standing on the porch like he always does in the morning. He's still got the blue bunny jammies on, but at least he's got a robe over them.

He'll probably keep those things till they disintegrate. Maybe longer. You should see some of the shit he hangs on to.

The water looks so damn inviting. I will be out in it today, and I don't care what happens. The sun just sparkles on it like a billion diamonds, and it's so blue, it's just screaming, Michael, get out here!

Jo comes out, tells us there's coffee, and I ask Dad if he wants some. So I bring back two mugs, one black for him, one with milk and sugar for me.

I wonder if I'd save any calories by cutting out the sugar. I mean, anything of significance.

"Whatcha thinking about?" I ask him.

He just sort of shrugs, but he smiles a little.

I think he's thinking about Dee. I've learned to detect that smile.

I think she came along on this trip.
 

MELVIN, FINAL DAY:

Tomorrow we head back.

I have no desire in some ways to return to the daily grind, and yet, here, away from it, I feel a bit at loose ends, away from the security (if you want to call it that) of normal routine.

The best part of vacation has been watching my son. No, I'm not thrilled that he's chosen to become sexually active with Kelly-I doubt that outside of him marrying her at an appropriate time, I would be. But I have to accept it. It's part of who he is now.

And he looks so damn happy. He's been smiling and laughing all week long. And he didn't get sick, thank God. Kelly did, but not badly so.

She's on the porch, in her swimsuit. She is a very attractive girl these days. When I first met her, I felt she was far too thin and gaunt looking. Now she's filled out, and she is lovely. I can understand my son's attraction.

I don't think she'll ever look as good as Dee, but how could anyone?

Kelly asks Michael if he's ready for a swim. As if Michael would need someone to ask twice on that one. He flies in and throws on his suit, setting a new land speed record in doing so. I hope he remembered to get his lenses out. They were expensive, and I warned him that he couldn't be careless with them.

I do see him carrying his eyeglass case, so I'm assuming he used a portion of his brain this time, one of the few not totally saturated with testosterone right now.

He and Kelly race to the water, and I can hear them shrieking as they hit the coolness of it.

They're still so damn young.

I see them holding one another, just sharing a long kiss, an embrace that encompasses both of them. They look like one person from here, a strange creature with two backs and four limbs.

Very much like Dee and myself.

She is with me today. And while I would far prefer to have her in the flesh, that her spirit is with me is enough this morning to give me a sense of wholeness.

And we have passed that spirit into the kids.

A mirabile visus, Byers, Mulder and Allison would refer to it as. How did we end up with three Latinists in our midst?

Probably the same way we ended up with too many PhD's in one place. So much education, so little common sense.

But I'm not disturbed by that right now. I'm loving this morning far too much.

Jo says she's not about to pass up such a beautiful day, and she's going to get her suit on, drag her gear to the water's edge, and bask.

I'm going to join her.
 

The sun is wonderful. This is not like the sun in country, which beats down mercilessly with a damp and heavy heat, but rather it's light and airy, just bathing us in its warmth instead of beating us into submission with it.

I have decided I will let my toes wiggle in the sand today. At least before it gets too hot, which at midday, it has a tendency to do. A small thing, but for me, a giant step away from my past and into a better world.

I am momentarily depressed that this better world will end tomorrow by 10 a.m., which is when the management company insists that we be departed, but it's difficult to stay depressed on such a glorious day.

Michael's trying to teach Kelly the breast stroke-no, not that kind, the kind you do in the water. She's not doing all that well, but she keeps trying, and they keep laughing. I watch them race one another freestyle, listen to them shrieking as the loser gets splashed by the winner, and watch them as they come together, separate, come together again, move apart, and then draw back together. The dance of love. They are still clumsy at its steps, as are we all. But the draw is irresistible. The music for these two never stops.

And Michael is so tender and patient as he explains to her how to do something. This is a side of him I never expected to see, and I am utterly delighted to be witnessing it.

And she responds to him with the same love and care. I felt she was kind of chilly when I met her. But when I see her with him, I know her heart is good and kind.

Jo says she's going in for a swim. I watch her head to the water, swim out to the kids. They talk for a while, I hear gales of laughter skip over the water like small stones.

They're all drenched and happy out there.

And the laughter, to my ear, takes on a conspiratorial tone.

I don't trust them. I have no idea what they're up to, but...

Kelly and Michael are running towards the shoreline, and they're laughing it up, snickering at one another, exchanging looks that could only worry me.

And the next thing I know, I'm being dragged out by the two kids.

I'm going to kill them both.

I'm fully dressed, save for my boots, I have my glasses on, I hate the
water...

They keep dragging me out, and once I could probably fight Michael off, but he's nearly as big as I am, and he's got youth and strength on his side. And he's got Kelly, who, for a fairly small woman, is surprisingly sturdy. And her tenaciousness is legendary.

I expect Jo to chastise them, but instead, she's GIGGLING.

They're all in on it together.

Oh God.

I panic, feeling the bottom. I still have visions of water snakes wrapping around my ankles, of leeches hooking on to me.

Michael says, come on, we're not gonna let you go, we just want you to have some fun.

I try to relax. My son is an expert swimmer. Should anything happen, he's passed lifesaving.

The water is cool, not warm and musty, at least.

I tell myself, there is no rice around me. There are no strange whispers in the shadows. In fact, the only shadows are those of the four of us in the water.

For a moment, I think I'm going to faint-I feel something creep around my legs. I look down, almost ready to pass out...

It's a goddamn piece of kelp.

"Melvin, didn't you ever go water skiing in country?" Jo giggles.

"Not a chance," I tell her.

"We did. Now, when I think about it, I cringe, but back then, I used to
have so much fun."

There's a scene in 'Apocalypse Now' where you see a unit out for a ski on the river. And here I thought Coppola was taking cinematic liberties.

And Jo did it.

Well, we know who has balls out here.

And it's not me.
 

They don't let me go back in for a while. I'm starting to get used to it. A bit cold, but I'm not moving around very much. None of us are right now.

I love these people so very much. I can do this because I do feel a certain sense of trust.

My son has since let go of my arms, but he hovers nearby, not certain how I'm doing. Kelly is nearby as well, she's sniffling more than I'd like to hear. I think she should go back in.

It is, however, our last day here, and I should lighten up on her.

She is, after all, not my daughter.

I wish my daughter were here. Everything is so different here. It's a place to come to relax, to relish the sun, to get to know one another.

And I feel as if I know my son and his young lady better than I did on the beginning of the trip. That in itself made the entire journey worthwhile.

And Jo has just brought a lightheartedness to this trip I did not expect. Jo is not a woman who laughs easily. Yet here, she has had the instincts of a girl Kelly's age, while maintaining the sensibilities appropriate to her own age.

My own demons notwithstanding, it's been glorious.

And I have reached some sense of closure with Dee. It's almost as if when I watch the kids, I see hers and my love permeate them.

I spoke with her in my dreams last night. And she was smiling. At me.

I will always remember this vacation as being bathed in light. Light of all kinds. Light of the sun. Light of realization. Light of knowledge.

And I even got a hint of a tan.

Now my boy, that's tan. He is so brown from his week here. I remember him as a little boy, being the color of a nut from spending so much time outdoors. Here, he is the same color I remember.

He's got his arm around my shoulder, says they'll release me now if I want to go back in.

Which I do.

But I'm not sorry they dragged me out here.
 

I doze off on the beach later. When I wake up, everyone is gone. They must have gone inside.

I'm still somewhat damp from my escapades into the ocean, but I've dried off considerably. I'll have to get changed for dinner, anyway.

I'm about to turn around and head to the house when I see a figure heading in towards the shore.

It's my boy. Must have gone out to swim.

He's coughing like mad, out of breath, shaking, and he's smiling like the Cheshire cat.

"Got out almost a mile," he works out between gasps.

"You probably shouldn't have done that." I don't feel like nursing a sick kid right now.

"Are you kidding? It was great!"

"Come on, boy. Inside." I grab my towel, throw his over him, and wrap my arm around his shoulder. He's babbling on, as much as he's able considering how winded he is, as he did when he was three, about what he saw and how far he went and how hard it was for a while and how great it was to be able to swim like that again...

I think I know what he means.
 

We get Michael warmed up. I really think he's pushing himself, but then again, I don't have to worry about him doing it tomorrow.

Well, so I thought.

"I wonder when I can use the pool at school," he's talking to his young lady. She's smiling at him admiringly.

Ah, testosterone.

At what age do we give up trying to impress women with how terrific we are?

I think I know the answer to that one.

When we're dead.
 

Michael falls asleep for a while, as is appropriate when you've done a two-mile round trip swim. His breathing is a little ragged. I wince when I hear the sound. I remember the asthma attacks from when he was little, and he's sounding somewhat the same way.

Strange how you can be away from a child for so long, yet remember all of their nuances.

Kelly's sitting on the end of the sofa by him, studying. Every now and then she'll absently reach out and squeeze his hand or rub his foot. Just as Dee would do while we'd watch old movies on the sofa.

Jo's having a beer and I join her. She's got this wistful look on her face like, aw, do we have to go home?

"This is wonderful," she muses.

It has been.

"How do you feel about Italian?" I ask her. She is treating for dinner-she insists-but it was my job, being the most knowledgeable about the local establishments-to choose the restaurant.

"Twist my arm, Melvin," she laughs.

Nikola's it is.
 

Jo did have the forethought to make a reservation. It's still off-season, but we do get seated rapidly this way.

Service at Nikola's this time of year is delightfully leisurely. I start off with J&B neat, Jo orders a bottle of merlot, and we inform the children that they're the designated drivers, therefore ending the possibility that my son will join us in our drinking to oblivion.

He does drink less when he's with Kelly. There might be advantages in having an underage young lady.

I order the penne pomodoro, Michael orders lasagna Fiorentina, Kelly asks for eggplant parmigiana, and Jo orders spaghetti puttanesca.

Spaghetti of the whore, I tell her, and we both laugh, and so do the kids. Jo is about as far from a whore as a woman can get, and puttanesca is spicy. Jo isn't much of a fan of spicy food, so this is a bit of a surprise. But Jo has shown that in the right environment, she can get out of her skin.

I need to figure out how she does that. I never seem to be able to shed mine.

Jo and I keep the drinks coming. Michael orders one beer and switches over to San Pellegrino, thank God. Somebody needs to be able to drive tonight.

I'm looking at my pasta and think about the one time at Club Fed when they served us they called penne. It wasn't anything like this.

And I'm able to laugh about it. And I tell the kids, who also laugh. I explain that the food at Club Fed isn't bad-for prison food. Which is not saying much. Then again, I was in with a rather illustrious crowd that was accustomed to such establishments as Sardi's and 21.

I've never talked about this before. It wasn't funny when I was there. I think it's only funny now because I'm so smashed.

Jo shares a few stories from the emergency room; normally I'd gag, but right now I don't care. It's fun to see her laugh.

I always figured I was who I was, and I resigned myself to never being able to talk about such things, let alone laugh at them.

Maybe I moved along a little in the healing process on this trip.

Of course, considering how much Scotch I've downed, healing may not be the word I have in mind when I wake up tomorrow.

I don't care.

Somehow, the kids get us home.

END OF PART 89