Summer Vows (Arabesque)

by Alers, Rochelle

  That said, she walked out of the kitchen leaving him to stare at her back. There was no need for him to get so hostile because she’d offered to introduce him to her friends. Most men would’ve been jumping for joy. For them the more the merrier, but not Mr. Jones. She swore that it would be the first and last time she would ever broach the subject with him.

  Chapter 7

  Ana sat beside Jacob, staring at the passing landscape out the side window. The Keys were like another world. Despite her seeing a few mansionlike structures, the topography appeared virtually untouched, creating a primordial world with exotic plants and flowers, subtropical birds, mangroves and coral reefs. Something startled a flock of white herons when they rose majestically from their nesting site to take to the air. Boats, ranging from rowboats to luxury yachts dotted the waterways. Those sailing were either fishing or sunbathing, and a few were photographing the spectacular water views.

  The excitement she’d expected to feel because she was going to see Key West for the first time wasn’t there, and it had everything to do with Jacob. Over dinner the night before he was practically monosyllabic and after they’d cleaned up the kitchen she’d gone upstairs to her bedroom and read for hours.

  Thankfully she’d slept throughout the night, waking alert and rested. She made her bed, showered and dressed for the day. When she’d gone downstairs Jacob was nowhere in sight. The security system was still armed and Ana had assumed either he hadn’t gotten up or he’d gone out again. She doubted the latter because there was no note tacked to the corkboard.

  Not waiting for him, she made fresh squeezed orange juice, diced pineapple, mango, papaya and white grapes for a fruit salad. The aroma of brewing coffee had filled the kitchen when he walked in wearing a Hawaiian-print shirt, faded relaxed jeans and running shoes. He looked different and it wasn’t until he sat down at the table across from her that she realized he hadn’t shaved. The stubble on his lean jaw enhanced his overt masculinity, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  He’d thanked her when she’d placed a dish of fruit at his place setting. They ate in silence and as she cleared the table to stack the dishwasher he’d announced they would be leaving in less than an hour, so she should pack what she wanted to take with her.

  His neighbors were right. Not only Jacob was grouchy, but he was also moody.

  Jacob stared through the windshield when he’d wanted to take furtive glances at Ana. Her face framed by a profusion of brownish-gold curls made her look like a fragile doll.

  He smiled despite his lingering annoyance that she’d offered to hook him up with one of her girlfriends. Attracting a woman had never been a problem for him. Finding one for other than sex proved a bit more challenging, and now that he was getting older sex didn’t top his priority list when it came to women. Jacob wanted and needed someone he could talk to after the lovemaking ended. He hadn’t lied to his mother when he told her he had yet to meet the right woman. Some he’d dealt with were either too immature, while others were much too needy. Nothing grated on his nerves more than a whining, needy woman.

  Early in his career with the marshal service he’d believed he’d met the woman. Jacob had seriously considered proposing marriage, but she’d ruined everything when she’d begun to complain that she didn’t get to see him enough. When he’d tried explaining to her that when assigned to the Violent Crime Fugitive Task Force he didn’t know when he’d be called away, Delia morphed into someone he hadn’t recognized. Her accusations that he was cheating on her escalated into uncontrollable shouting matches. Jacob knew he had to end their relationship, knowing he wouldn’t be able to cope with a jealous girlfriend and remain focused.

  “What do you want to do tonight?”

  Ana turned to look at Jacob. “Hallelujah! He speaks,” she spat out sarcastically.

  A hint of a smile flitted across his mouth. “Don’t push it, Princess.”

  “What do you expect me to say? You barely grunt at me, and now you’re asking me what I’d like to do.”

  He smiled, giving her a quick glance. “I’m sorry for being a grouch.”

  A beat passed before Ana said, “Apology accepted.”

  “Thank you, Princess. I’ll ask you again. What would you like to do?”

  “Can we stop to see the Hemingway museum?”

  Jacob nodded. “That can be arranged. What else?”

  “I’d like to eat at Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville Café.”

  “That’s also doable. Anything else?”

  “I suppose we can visit some of the more popular bars and clubs.”

  Jacob’s straight white teeth were a startling contrast to his brown complexion when he laughed. “Now you’re talking.”

  Ana removed her sunglasses. “How long do you plan to stay?”

  He met her eyes. “As long as you want.”

  She placed her hand over his when he gripped the steering wheel. “I’d like to take a tour and do some shopping.”

  Reversing their hands, Jacob cradled her much smaller hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before kissing her fingers. “That’s going to take at least three or four days. Are you certain you don’t have anything pending on your calendar?”

  This was the Jacob she liked—smiling and teasing. “Very certain.”

  “Good. I suppose this means we’re free to go and do anything we want.”

  Ana closed her eyes. “I wish I could turn back the clock to when I was sixteen and planned to live the bohemian life in Key West. Even though Daddy cut short my dream I still felt freer than I do now.” She opened her eyes to find Jacob staring at her with a strange expression on his handsome face.

  “This too shall pass,” Jacob said in a quiet voice. He wanted to tell Ana she had to be patient, because eventually the shooter was going to make a mistake. Most criminals did. “You still could live a bohemian lifestyle. The first thing you’ll have to do is move out of your luxury condo, buy a loft and decorate it with vintage posters of singers and musicians dating from the 40s to the 80s. Of course, you’ll set up a salon with a gathering of writers, musicians, political dissents and deadbeat intellectuals.”

  Ana laughed softly. “Why stop at the 80s?”

  “Disco, baby. Most contemporary pop music is an amalgamation of prior decades. R&B vocal groups like Jagged Edge and Boyz II Men and a few of the others are nothing more than a throwback to doo-wop with emotional ballads and a cappella harmonies.”

  “What about rap and hip-hop?”

  “I found early rap rather primitive with all the sampling. Thankfully it has evolved where it’s now much more sophisticated. As for hip-hop, I’ve always liked it.”

  “Who’re your favorite R&B singers?” she asked.

  Jacob angled his head. “It has to be Anthony Hamilton. He’s probably more blues than R&B.”

  “Who else do you like?”

  “Maxwell, but unfortunately I have to wait years for him to put out a new album.”

  Ana and Jacob spent the next quarter of an hour discussing musical genres until she eased her hand from his, put on her glasses and returned her attention to staring out at the landscape. Traffic was heavier than usual for that time of morning, but he was in no hurry to reach their destination, estimating it would about take nearly forty minutes to make the fifty-five mile drive from the Long Key Channel to Key West. After all, he had nothing but time on his hands and it was the same with Ana.

  Tapping a button on the steering wheel, he tuned the radio to a satellite station featuring songs from the early 2000s. The voices of Destiny’s Child singing “Say My Name” came through the speakers located throughout the SUV.

  Ana and Jacob shared a smile when they sang along with the girl group. He felt a chill eddy its way down his back when Ana sang Faith Hill’s “Breathe.” She had a rich wonderful alto singing voice. It
was his turn to showcase his singing talent with the “Thong Song.”

  Ana gave him an incredulous look. “I can’t believe you know every word.”

  “That’s because I have it in the jukebox.”

  “I suppose you know the number, too.”

  Jacob winked at her. “Damn straight. In fact, I know most of the numbers to my favorites. All of the CDs are grouped by genre—blues, R&B, classical, jazz, Latin, country, pop, rap and hip-hop, show tunes and movie soundtracks.”

  He tapped another button, lowering the volume, and told Ana that his father and uncles had formed a band when they were in their teens, playing at weddings and small local clubs whenever they needed a backup band. They told anyone who wanted to sign them that they were twenty-one and twenty-three so they could play in bars and clubs. He’d grown up listening to their jam sessions and the one time he’d sat in playing guitar was a night he would remember forever.

  “Are you good?” Ana asked.

  “I do all right.”

  “That’s not what I asked you.”

  “I can read music, and with a lot of practice I can memorize a piece.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “What are you hatching in that beautiful head?”

  Ana knew what she was going to propose to Jacob would extend their friendship beyond her current predicament. “I’d like you to audition for Jason. He’s always looking for session players. You could come into the studio and he’ll record what you play, then he’ll integrate it into a number of tracks. Of course you’ll be paid and your name will be listed in the credits.”

  “Whatever happened to synthesizers?”

  “Jason’s an old-school dinosaur. He’s like my father. They believe in using the actual instruments.”

  “No, Ana.”

  Shifting on her seat, she gave him a pleading look. “Please don’t say no until you talk to Jason. He’ll set up a time that’s convenient for you to visit the studio. I know once you two start jamming together you’ll change your mind.”

  “I’m not going to promise anything except that I’ll think about it.”

  Ana felt as if she’d won a small victory. Serenity was always looking for new talent whether in front of the microphone or as backup singers and/or musicians.

  “Idiot!” Jacob shouted when a driver cut in front of him. Instinctually his right arm went out to shield Ana when his foot slammed down on the brake to avoid rear-ending the sports car. “Are you all right?” Heat raced up his arm when his hand unintentionally cupped her breast. He pulled his hand away. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  Ana pressed her back against the leather seat, her heart pumping wildly in her chest. If Jacob’s reflexes were any slower there would’ve been an accident. She’d told him it was okay when she wasn’t okay. For a nanosecond her body had reacted not to the vehicle’s sudden stop but to the warmth of his hand on her chest. Her nipples had tightened and she prayed he wouldn’t notice them through the fabric of the tee.

  An uncomfortable silence filled the interior of the truck as they passed Marathon and approached the Seven Mile Bridge. How, she mused, was she going to share a bed with Jacob and remain indifferent?

  Whenever he touched her she felt like a pat of butter on a hot surface, melting under his caress. Then there was his kiss. Chaste kisses that were more to comfort than seduce; kisses and caresses that had triggered her erotic dream.

  Why, she mused, couldn’t he be old with ill-fitting dentures and smelling of liniment instead of young and virile; and despite his occasional gruffness he was as slick and charming as a hustler smooth-talking an unsuspecting victim that a counterfeit designer handbag was authentic. Maybe, she prayed, a guest would check out earlier than planned and they wouldn’t have to not only share a room but also a bed.

  Ana knew she wasn’t a prude, but there was no reason why temptation had to be so overtly delicious. She took a surreptitious glance at Jacob’s hands and the length of his fingers, recalling the time when she and her girlfriends had traveled to Jamaica on vacation; they’d sat around the pool looking at men in their swimsuits, while attempting to make the correlation that the size of man’s hand was indicative of the length of his penis. After too much sun and countless glasses of rum punch and incessant giggling they were incapable of arriving at a consensus.

  She missed her girlfriends, their spontaneous laughter, and their unwavering support. There was never a time when they weren’t there for one another whether it was emotionally or financially.

  * * *

  Jacob maneuvered onto the driveway leading to a large two-story house with shuttered windows and a wraparound porch. Towering centuries-old trees shaded the structure from the brilliant summer sun. Shutting off the engine, he got out and came around to assist Ana at the same time the door to the house opened. His aunt stood on the porch, waving.

  “That’s my aunt. Her name is Mathilda, but everyone calls her Mattie. Go inside and out of the heat. I’ll be in as soon as I get the bags.”

  Ana wasn’t conscious of the heat until Jacob mentioned it. The humidity clung to her bared skin like a wet blanket. Sitting in the air-conditioned vehicle made her oblivious to the outside temperatures. The mouth-watering aroma of grilling meat wafted in the heavy air. She glanced up at the house. It was as if she’d stepped back in time when the Spaniards, and subsequently the English, built grand homes to showcase their status and wealth in the New World.

  Mattie was a tall, slender woman with short straight silver hair; her complexion reminded Ana of aged parchment. Upon closer inspection she could see the older woman’s strong Native American features. Mattie looked refreshingly cool in a sleeveless blouse, cropped cotton pants and espadrilles.

  “Come and let me get a good look at you,” Mattie crooned in a slow Southern drawl. “In all the years my nephew has come to visit he has never brought a girl with him.” Her warm brown eyes studied Ana, giving her a long, penetrating stare. “You’re kinda small, but still pretty as a picture. Now, give your Aunt Mattie a hug.”

  Ana found herself in a comforting embrace, she returning it with one of her own. “Thank you for having me.”

  “There’s no need to thank me, gal. If you’re Jacob’s girl, then you’re family.”

  Help me out here, Jacob, her silent voice implored him. Ana chided him for not making the introductions first. Jacob must have heard her silent supplication because he appeared like a specter with their luggage: two garment bags, her carry-on and his duffel. Leaning down, he kissed his aunt’s cheek.

  The warmth of Mattie’s smile reached her eyes. “Please come in and rest yourselves. She held the screen door for her nephew and his girlfriend. “You’re going to have to hold this door whenever you come in or leave, because it slams and makes enough noise to wake the dead. But whenever I ask Ray to fix it he acts like I’m speaking a foreign language. He’d rather blow on that darn horn than do anything around the house.”

  Jacob smiled at his aunt over his shoulder. “If you get the toolbox I’ll fix it.”

  Mattie let the door close slowly to avoid it slamming against the frame. “That’s all right. I’m going to call the handyman, and only after I give Ray the estimate will he actually pick up a hammer and do something. He hates giving away his money to folks when he can make the repairs himself.”

  Ana glanced around the entryway in the house with ten-foot ceilings, gleaming parquet floors and a curving staircase leading to the second floor. A large crystal vase on a round mahogany table was filled with a profusion of colorful fresh flowers. Their footsteps were muffled on the carpeting covering the staircase as she stared down at chairs, loveseats and tables in the expansive living room. The furnishings were distinctly from a bygone era.

  She followed Mattie and Jacob down the long hallway. Doors to most bedrooms were closed, but the ones t
hat were opened revealed spaces with four-poster beds draped with mosquito netting, matching armoires and upholstered armchairs with matching footstools. Ana wondered if the furnishings were antiques or reproductions. Regardless of their authenticity they were exquisite.

  An inaudible gasp escaped her when she walked into the bedroom suite she was to share with Jacob. A king-size decoratively carved four-poster mahogany bed was draped with sheer netting embroidered with minute sand-colored butterflies. The butterfly design was repeated in the tapestry-covered seat cushions on two pull-up chairs at the small round table in a corner, mahogany bench at the foot of the bed and the two facing club chairs in front of a fireplace. A cushioned window seat spanned the length of floor-to-ceiling windows, and shutters rather than curtains or drapes were installed to provide maximum privacy.

  Mattie gestured to a door on her right. “There’s a full bath with a dressing room through that door. If I’d known you were coming three days ago I wouldn’t have rented out the guesthouse. You would’ve had a lot more privacy.”

  Ana wanted to tell her they didn’t need privacy. Jacob’s declaration “there will no plans of seduction from either one of us,” came back in vivid clarity, and she knew even if she pranced around butt-naked nothing sexual was going to go down between them.

  Jacob set the luggage on the floor near the armoire with the same carvings etched into the bedposts. “That’s okay, Aunt Mattie. We’re going to be out most of the time.”

  “I hope you save some time for me and your uncle before you go back. By the way, I’ve opened the windows to let in some fresh air. If it gets too hot for you, close them and turn on the air-conditioning. The thermostat is on the other side of the armoire.” She exhaled a sigh. “I guess I’ve talked enough. I’ll let you two settle in.”

  “Where’s Uncle Ray?” Jacob asked his aunt.

  “He should be back soon. He went to the store to pick up some more wood chips for the smoker. Ray bought a smoker a couple of months back and he smokes everything from brisket to ribs, fresh ham, chicken and sausage.” Mattie flashed a wide grin. “I must admit I’ve gotten used to eating smoked meat. Cooking outdoors is preferable to heating up the kitchen, where it takes hours to cool down.”