Rules for Living

By Frankie Metfield

Rule number one: Never Ever tell anyone you are traveling alone. 

Rule number two: Always have a story but never tell the truth. 

Rule number three: Always have an out.

Rule number 4: Make sure someone will remember you.

The unspoken rule floating between 4 and 5: avoid romantic attachments.

Rule number fi

• Language: English
• Publisher: Megaphone Publishing
• Release date: Jul 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9780692799406

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Frankie Metfield

Rules for Living

First published by a Herald’s Megaphone Publishing Co. Ltd. 2023

Copyright © 2023 by Frankie Metfield

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Frankie Metfield asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Frankie Metfield has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

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To anyone who needs to learn to wait and feel.

Contents

1. The Rules

2. The Resort

3. The Brother

4. The Blue Dress

5. The Spiral

6. The Incident

7. The Spa Day

8. The Adventure

9. The Carrot

10. The Red Dress

11. The Fight

12. The Surprise

13. The Story

14. The Painting

15. The First Date

16. The Waves

17. The Goodbye

18. The Green Dress

19. The Epilogue

1

The Rules

Irecited my rules to myself as I slipped my Vans back on after moving through security so quickly I barely had time to gather all my belongings that they make you unpack for the x-rays. I hate being rushed.

My rules were simple. I’d seen that one movie where the daughter gets abducted; but I, nor my Dad, had a special set of skills. Well, maybe Dad did, which is the reason I was traveling alone; but I doubted his resort management skills would ever save me from being trafficked. Which is why I recited my rules to myself anytime I transitioned from one area to another. Concourse to Concourse. Mind the gap. Recite the rules. Rule number one: Never Ever tell anyone you are traveling alone. Rule number two: Always have a story but never tell the truth. Oh, you’re inviting me up the VIP lounge for drink before the flight? That’s kind but I’m actually here with my Father. He is in the FBI and just got called to the offices about some unsavory characters seen here at the airport on the cameras. That one always did the trick. Sometimes I was deaf. Sometimes my friend Nina must have gotten lost, so I needed to find security and find her. Other times my fiance was just in the bathroom or buying me coffee. I’m traveling on business; the embassy is waiting for me.

Rule number three: always have an out. Count the exits, notice cameras, find security, Always have items that are approved travel items that can be used as weapons, thick soled shoes, bag strap, book, your body. Always make eye contact and speak to airport personnel in case you need to send up a flare; figuratively speaking.

I don’t flirt, mingle or go out of my way to meet people; especially when I travel. And since my Dad is into rescuing international resorts from commercial ruin, I travel alone to meet him, once a year or so. But I don’t tell people that; because rule number one.

My Dad said I was entirely too anxious to travel alone and he always offered to hire a bodyguard for me, but he had no idea what it was like to be a realistic feminist. I wanted to prove I could do it all by my onesie but I was also completely aware of how dangerous it was to be a female moving freely about the country. So there in lies the dilemma and the reason for my rules. I was a liar and a fraud most of the time, but I didn’t care. To the stewardess: Brenda, that’s a lovely name, thank you for serving us today. Have you had several turn-arounds already or are you just starting your shift? I didn’t actually care about any of that, but when you say someone’s name and pay attention to them, they remember you. Maybe just Oh, yes that sweet blonde in 14b, she got carted off by that man in the yellow jacket with he mustache. See? Good enough. Rule number 4: makes sure someone will remember you.

But there I was, sandwiched between strangers, flying half way across the world from my humble apartment to spend the summer with my Dad in La Dominica. He had been at this resort since September. I had opted to spend Christmas with Mom in Colorado, so it was summer in the Dominican; I felt proud of myself for planning that just right. White Christmas with Mom, Summer beaches with Dad. Divorce was the best thing that happened to our little family of three. I know I’m not supposed to say that but it’s true. They actually like each other now. They’re friends and pretty decent co-parents, but get separate lives and one on one time with me. The arrangements sucked when I was young; they got divorced with I was in fifth grade. But now that I’m in grad school and get to make plans with them when I want; its pretty great.

I ordered a ginger ale from the stewardess, Camila, was her name; I actually did like her name. She was almost done with her shift, she lived in the Dominican, and told me I would love the food. I watched two movies and fell asleep just before we landed. My heart skipped a beat as the wheels touched down. I hadn’t seen my Dad in a year, and although I knew he was going to be busy, I couldn’t wait to spend the summer at his resort. Mi Vida.

Mija! I heard his booming voice before I saw with salt and pepper head above the crowd. I smiled to myself; he was already speaking Spanish to me after living here for less than a year. I had a lot to learn, I was sure. The air was thick with salty humidity and the palms swayed as they arched over the road. He towered over the other men standing at the curb waiting to pick up guests and clients.

Dad! he squeezed me in tight. He smelled of lemon, orchid, and salt. His hair was more gray that black now, his white linen shirt was wrinkled at the waist from sitting and his black jeans stopped at the ankle. He just as dapper as he’d always been, only now he was impossibly tan and clean shaven. His prominent nose crunched up with delight that seemed to connect to the wrinkles at his eyes; those expressive brown eyes that were like giant almonds underneath his thick, black brows.

He asked me about the flight and if I’d had any problems. I said it was uneventful and left out how many lies I’d told along the way and how many times I’d recited my rules; 108 to be exact. While I’d always suspected that Dad had somewhere along the way caught onto the fact that I had rules; Rule number five was never ever explain the rules. We loaded my luggage in the trunk and drove out from underneath the archway of palms, along the coast to his resort. Mi Vida was on a secluded side of the island away from the congested cities but like most third world countries, you needed to drive through reality was for the residents, to make your way to the opulent. The brilliant sunlight, the many shades of azul in the waters, the brightly colored roofs and signs in the city all made me smile.

I have meetings today but I figured you’d be glad to wander around, explore the resort? We’ll meet for dinner?

He knew me well. Even after all these years. He had a knack for that, knowing people. I guess that’s why he is good at what he does.

2

The Resort

Mi Vida was all sprawling, white, gold signage, and clean lines. Palms lined the drive that led from the gate to the open air entrance. Rattan lounge beds hung from the ceiling where one could sit while a butler brought a drink with an umbrella in it while they took bags to rooms. One woman with short cropped hair was fanning herself like a southern belle complaining about the heat. Ironically she sounded like she was from Texas. I smiled at the butler who carried her luggage away without a bead of sweat on his brow. He smiled back.

I followed Dad though the lobby and watched him speak to almost everyone, from the butlers to the guests and the custodian we passed in the hall. He was kind and attentive but they all clearly respected his place here. Everything was open air and it smelled like coconuts, salt, and sunscreen. Dad welcomed me into a room that faced the ocean and explained where the restaurant was that we were meeting at for dinner.

Your butler should be by soon. He’ll be with you for your entire stay. Hand picked him, good guy. Let me know if you need anything. He kissed me quickly on the cheek as if he was already late. He probably was.

Dad, I don’t need a butler. That’s for boujee guests. I can manage without one.

He smiled and sighed, as if we’d had this argument before and he’d lost. That was in fact true. Fine, he’s a bodyguard. Is that better? Since I don’t have a guest bed in my apartment, I didn’t like the idea of you staying alone all summer. So butler or bodyguard…however you need to think of him. OK?

I didn’t like the idea of staying alone, or rather anyone noticing that I was staying alone, so I supposed I could live with an occasional bodyguard, "Fine. Thanks Dad.’

I’m really glad you’re here honey. It’s going to be a good summer. I can feel it.

I smiled at him and shook my head, I’m glad I’m here too Dad. No go! I’ll settle in and see you for dinner. This was our way; warm, affectionate but not overly clingy or needy. We’d already fallen into our comfortable pattern; he didn’t expect me to need him 24/7 and I knew he’d never truly quit working while I was here. I was free to explore. And follow my own rules.

After unpacking my suitcases and showering, I leaned on the balcony railing and let my wet hair blow in the breeze. The ocean was bound to bring out my natural waves and I was glad to get a break from blow drying my unruly thick mane. I’d be tan with natural beach waves by the time I return for fall semester. And no one would know till then where I had been. I’d deleted all my social media apps off my phone, determined to just be in the Dominican while I was here. Only my roommate, Whitney, and my best friend, Inez, knew where I was. And Mom of course. But I let the rest of the world behind, resolved to detox myself from the hustle of school and the noise of digital life.

I knew Dad had an extensive library in his apartment and I planned on reading all summer, and if I stayed on this balcony for two months, that would be a successful summer holiday. Not to anyone else, I knew Dad would disapprove - he was much more extroverted that I was, but to me it sounded like pure bliss. And as quick as the thought of napping in the sun before dinner crossed my mind, a knock came at the door.

Senorita! thick voice called from the other side of the door before I could even reach it.

Hola I said as I opened it; trying not to let my face show the shock that I felt at what I saw. Hola was also the one of five Spanish words I knew and it felt fat and clunky coming off my tongue and I knew it sound exactly how it felt. The man that stood before me had to be at least six foot two and a bodybuilder; every inch of his body rippling with superb and defined black muscles. Bodyguard it is, Dad.

Hola, Love he bowed a little, I’m Omar, at your service. he announced in English.

Oh good, I don’t speak Spanish. It’s nice to meet you Omar. I’m Winnie.

No Espanol Señorita Winnie? We will have to teach you.

"I would love that. I took classes in High School, I guess it just didn’t stick, which I regret.

Do you want to come in?"

Only for a moment to check the space and tell you a few things from your Father.

Of course. I followed behind him as I closed the door, still marveling at the size of this man. His voice was deep but his S’s came out the sides of his cheeks rather than from behind his teeth with his tongue. My Dad said he hand picked you to be my bodyguard all summer, I can see why.

He smiled a giant toothy smile but began to shake his head as he walked to the windows and the balcony, checking the edges and locks, I am intimidating, yes, I will not pretend not to know. This is not why your Father assigned me to you.

It’s not? I asked, confused.

No Mija. You Father chose me, I think, because I would not fall in love with you.

I practically burped up a laugh and then covered my mouth to hide my shock. Quickly then the shock soured and I felt the rudeness in my Fathers assumption. I wasn’t anything spectacular to look at, but how dare he just assume that a man can’t fall in love with me. Or that I wasn’t allowed to fall in love over my summer holiday. Not that I had thought about it, not that I was looking for anything, but he wasn’t in charge of my love life. Again, not that I had one, but still…

I should not have said that, Ms. Winnie. Please forgive me.

I shook my head too adamantly, and told him I was sorry though I didn’t even know what for; it was just a habit. This is not a solid first impression. Then again, it was solidifying rule number five. It wasn’t really rule number five but it was an unspoken rule floating between 4 and 5: avoid romantic attachments.

Mija, no. You are beautiful. he laughed a little, and I could only assume that my face had betraying all of my stupid thoughts, I will not fall in love with you because I already have a husband.

Relief washed over my face like the incoming tide and it seemed to warm my entire body as if flowed downward. I exhaled heavily, Oh. Right.

Someone is bound to fall in love with you this summer, Mija, but this way you have a strong friend to keep you safe.

Oh! it was my turn to laugh at my own internal judgments, "Thank you Omar.

And I have no intention of falling in love. So my dad needn’t worry."

Does anyone ever have the intention of falling in love? he tilted his head at me.

Do you watch reality TV? I laughed.

He laughed in return, "You never know what will happen, Mija.

Anyway, he waved me over to the kitchenette table , Here is map of the resort and then I have added what is just beyond to the left and right. Feel free to explore.

I’ll be back at 6 to escort you to dinner. You have a dress?"

Dinner has a dress code? I instantly regretted packing so sparsely.

This restaurant does, yes. There are shops in the front to the left of the lobby if you require anything. You have your own account. Feel free to charge whatever you need.

Omar, this is too much.

I’m sure that is your father’s plan.

I suddenly felt aware that this was his job and I did in fact already sound spoiled. Spoiled silly American.