time I’ll be happy you’re lovesick and mopey.”
“I am not lovesick!”
“We’ll see if you can eat a whole scone, if not then
you are. You’ll just have to face it.” I snatched the hat from where it had fallen on the floor, threw it on the sofa and went into the closet to get one of my own; a big yellow and lace thing with flocked birds attached. “There, that’s better,” I said as I pinned it on in front of the hall mirror.
“I like yours better. Do you have another?” I proudly took her back to my collection and allowed her to choose. We must have looked really odd driving in her car, her hat with birds and fruit slices coming out of her head, me with peacock feathers and a bird’s nest made out of gold string and lace on mine.
Anna and Kathy greeted us, brought us our brewed tea and the tiered selections we had ordered. We dined on an assortment of finger sandwiches, Cucumber with Dill, Gorgonzola Pistachio Hearts and Kahlua Maple Walnut Crème on Raisin Bread. As we sipped and chewed, we talked nonstop, oohing and aahing over the Warm Bread Pudding with Bourbon Sauce and the Double Dipped Chocolate Strawberries with Coconut shavings and the dainty fruit skewered and drizzled with white chocolate. Suddenly, I was famished. Over a fresh Caramel Scone, I finally broke down
Jacqueline DeGroot and told her that Roman had proposed and that I had refused him, although telling it to her made me realize how stupid all my reasons sounded.
“When you’re beginning a relationship you don’t dwell on the way it might end, or at least you shouldn’t. I don’t think about Matt getting prostrate cancer and I’m sure he doesn’t think about me having a stroke. There’s no point in it. You can’t plan for disaster, you just have to be ready to accept it if it comes along. And if you love each other, you want to be there to help each other. That’s what the ‘For better or worse’part is all about. And you don’t worry about him being unfaithful just because he was once a very randy man. My Matt admits that keeping his bed warm at night with a hot, eager body was once his fondest pursuit. Was. Men do change if they find the right woman to change for.”
“I can count on one hand the men I’ve been with, whereas he probably doesn’t have a hair on his head for each woman whose thighs he’s crawled up between—and he has a powerfully thick head of hair!”
“It doesn’t matter, if he loves you, he’s already changed all that. You’ll be the last woman he has, that’s the most important.”
I snuffled into the wad of Kleenex she handed me. “Enjoy what you have now; worry when you have something to worry about. Hell, you could have thirtyfive glorious years together before you’re both hit by a bus coming back from bingo at the Elks.”
“I suppose you’re right. I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”
“Yeah, so what’s new?” she said as she put her arm around my shoulders.
I gave her a sheepish smile and said, “I’ll go home, see if he’s there and see if we can start this all over again.”
“Good, Merlin would like that. And so would Viv. Since you came back from the cruise with that hunk, she’s been chompin’ at the bit to get back out on the course to chant to that tree!”
I chuckled. “I’ll bet she is! Gosh, wouldn’t that be wonderful if we all really did find true love? When’s the next Friday the 13th?”
“I think there’s one in February and then another in March. Hard to believe it could be two down and one to go already. Go home and stop worrying about what the future could bring. Enjoy what you have now; you’re crazy if you don’t. Roman is the kind of man every woman dreams about.”
I looked up at her with knitted brows. “What’s Matt going to say to that?”
“Matt’s my Roman. I can’t envision my life without him. I still remember how lonely I was after Steve died. I count my blessings everyday that I was able to find love again—a passionate, abiding love that made me complete again. Your Roman is your true love, as Matt is mine, and you are so lucky that you two found each other.
I knew Roman had some free time over the weekend so I decided to wait and call him then. I needed time to build up courage and to make sure this was what I truly wanted. I couldn’t help feeling that I still wasn’t ready, that I needed more closure and less fear. But once I said yes to him, I knew I wouldn’t be able to turn back.
Chapter Forty-seven
Half Naked Massage Over the next few days I took many long walks on the beach. My friend Pat Callahan who often walks from the pier to the end of Bird Island, had sent me some pictures of the wild cougar that was on the island, so now in addition to my camera, I carried a walking stick, just in case. I didn’t see the cougar, but I did see the goats that live on the interior of the island. I even got a picture of one in the Intracoastal going back to the mainland, for what I could not imagine.
I love the solitude of walking on the beach, even though I often see people I know, we just nod as we pass, because we’re all there to enjoy the serenity and peace of the waves kissing the sand and the gulls squawking overhead. Looking out at the ocean, I could imagine Roman standing on his beach looking back at me. Maybe that was why I was drawn to the ocean like a magnet day and night.
Pam McNeel, a friend I met in Charlotte who had relocated to the beach, invited me to go with her to one of the cooking classes at The Sunset Gourmet. Jo Oler, the owner, was teaching a series of classes and I learned how to make Parmesan cheese straws, crostini with a marvelous caramelized onion and herbed cream cheese spread and tortilla cups with seafood ceviche. Then we went to Gail’s new Bloomin’deals shop in Calabash to check out the bargains.
I rode my bike with Arlene and we went over to the Taylor’s on Crooked Gulley to take pictures of the horned owl and its new twin owlets that were nesting in a tree in their backyard, then on the way back we saw the eagle the Millers had photographed for The Beacon on the first tee of the Maples course.
I took a solitary walk with my iPod on the boardwalks crossing the marsh at Vereen Gardens and I went to the Pelican Bookstore where I watched a Westie named Miss Scarlet O’Hara pee on Anne, the owner, and I laughed until I thought I was going to pee.
Everyone was keeping me busy and I really appreciated it as I was about to crawl out of my skin for want of Roman’s touch. I longed to hear his sexy brogue as he tucked me under him and plunged into me. I wanted to be in that special place he often put me, where every thought save that of my imminent orgasm was relegated to obscurity. I wanted him to marvel at my body’s ability to thoroughly enjoy every inch of him. I was miserable without him, but my friends did manage to keep the edge off, at least until the sun went down. Then I relived every moment, every caress, and every heavy-lidded look.
Finally, in desperation, late Friday night I called him. But he was not at home; I hadn’t really figured that he would be. I tried to leave a light-hearted message. I didn’t want to sound needy. But I was, and I don’t think there was any hiding it at this point.
Saturday, Amy insisted she take all three of us out to dinner to celebrate her independence and to show us how much she appreciated our friendship. She knew we had all taken a big risk to ensure she was spirited away and taken to a place of safe harbor until she could recover. And she was doing so amazingly well that we all agreed. It would be our Thanksgiving dinner together even though the holiday had passed.
So, Amy, Cat, Viv and I donned our finest and went to Umberto’s at Coquina Harbor. It is a beautiful setting on the water, in a lively marina that caters to the elite. The view of the Coquina Harbor Lighthouse is stunning. When huge white yachts come into view as they make the turn it’s all so dreamy. And the food is always delicious. The owner, Jackie, is a fun-loving, spirited woman who always makes her guests feel welcome, and full.
We settled in for a lovely dinner and some girl talk while enjoying a creamy Caesar salad, the best minestra beans on the east coast and cappelinni in a fresh tomato sauce. The girls say the pork chops are to die for but I wouldn’t know. I ordered the garlic sauce to go
with my pasta, but all three women insisted I forego it tonight, Viv saying that there was nothing worse than being seated next to someone in church who’d had tons of garlic the night before and Cat vehemently agreed. I thought that odd, but went along with them. I was having too much fun to argue and I loved the tomato sauce just as much, with or without the garlic.
We finished our meal with extra large slices of New York Style Cheesecake and coffee. I was stuffed, but I had thoroughly enjoyed being in the company of my friends. We all stood to leave and I noticed several men at the bar eyeing us, even Amy who had taken great care to primp was getting a few leisurely stares. Well, why not, we were four women dressed for a night on the town, and each of us in our own way was pretty hot stuff.
I had a moment of unease at the door while I was putting my coat on and noticed surreptitious looks being exchanged between Cat and Viv. We all stepped out of the restaurant and turned to the left to walk through the little piazza leading to the parking lot.
I was suddenly grabbed from behind, pulled into a hard body and spun to a ravaging kiss. I opened my mouth to scream and tasted Roman. His lips sure and savage as he hauled me against his chest and kissed me senseless. Then he eased me back, looked into my eyes and slapped duct tape over my mouth. Soft cuffs of some kind were clipped onto my wrists.
He took my purse and handed it to Viv, then bent and put me over his shoulder. I felt someone remove my shoes. “Thank you ladies,” he said ever so politely and stalked off with me. I began squirming and trying to lift myself up, all the while trying to yell through the tape.
“You’ve just had a full meal love, I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”
And he was right; the pressure against my tummy was threatening a purge. But I had to do something. I kicked with my feet, sure at once that I had kicked something I probably shouldn’t have. I felt a hard smack on my bottom even through my coat. And he instantly sped up, taking long, stalking strides.
I saw each plank of the decking that led through the marina disappear behind us until he turned and walked up a long ramp. Then we were on a gangway of some type and I was jostled as he went down a series of steps. I heard doors closing behind us as we wound through a carpeted area and then I was dumped onto a sofa. He sat me up, removed the soft cuffs and gently pried off the tape.
“Stay here! It seems I have to attend to myself and see if the family jewels are still intact. Feel free to yell as loud as you like, the room is soundproofed.”
He leaned down and looked me full in the face, his eyes hot and furious. “You my dear, have been shanghaied. And for your onerous deed to my nuts, I don’t know why I shouldn’t consider selling you as a sex slave and be done with you!’
He left, slamming the door behind him.
I got up and tried the door. Of course it was locked. I walked over to the picture window and drew the drapes. I was on the opposite side of the ship from the marina and could see nothing but black water shining in the faint moonlight.
I saw a bar over in the corner and I poured myself some ginger ale to settle my stomach. I had never seen Roman this angry. Of course, most men when kicked in the balls aren’t able to hide their emotions very well, I thought with chagrin. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Why was he here anyway? And whose yacht was this? Was he going to take me out to sea? The feral look in his eyes just a few moments ago indicated that he would probably have no qualms about sending me over the side. There was a knock on the door and I went to open it, forgetting that I wouldn’t be able to.
The door opened and a man in a uniform introduced himself as Franz, the steward. Politely he asked if I would like to accompany him for a complimentary massage. He said they had a noted masseuse on board who was available this evening. I deliberated for a moment. It might be nice, I loved massages, and if I was gone from the room, Roman wouldn’t be able to find me for at least an hour, maybe more. Surely he would have cooled down by then. I nodded that I would and he said he’d show me the way when I was ready. “I’m ready. Is this some kind of luxury cruise ship,” I asked. He shrugged but didn’t reply.
I followed him down one passageway after another like a rabbit in a warren until we ended up on the other side of the ship. Franz knocked on an ornately carved wooden door. Roman answered the summons and then Franz spun on his heel and fled the way we had come. I knew I was in trouble.
“Oh, I suppose this complimentary massage is to be administered by a man rather than a woman as I’d assumed, and it’s to be you?”
“There really isn’t anyone better at this particular type of massage, in fact, I’m probably the best in the world at it.”
“How modest. Which type of massage is this exactly?” I asked as he took my arm and pulled me through the door. The fact that he locked it behind me should have angered me but it didn’t, he’d clearly gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this.
In the center of the opulently furnished stateroom was a massage table covered with fresh white linens over thick bolsters. I could smell the fresh lilies in the flower arrangement that graced a Chinese chest on the other side of the room, and despite my better instincts I could feel my body responding to the low, soothing tones of a Georgian chant.
“It’s called Half Naked Massage.”
“Let me guess, that’s because only half of us will be naked. Me, I imagine.”
“No,” he said with a slight shake of his head and just the tiniest hint of a smile. “It’s because the person being massaged is half naked.”
“Which part, top or bottom?” I could see where this was going and had to admire his clever ploy. My raised eyebrow should be alerting him to the fact that I was easily seeing through his little charade.
“Actually it’s the left or right side, split down the middle from head to toe. For a woman grieving and unable to give her heart away again, she would be naked on her right side. Her left side, the side where her heart is, would be covered. The covered side, the shielded side, belongs to her lover, the one she grieves for. The uncovered side is her side, the part the world is allowed to see but in this case, it’ll be just me; and trust me, I won’t be sharing the view.” His eyes were now smoky with something indefinable; it wasn’t lust exactly, more like concern and a fathomless caring. There was also an intensity as if he was a doctor explaining a complicated medical procedure that he believed his patient needed to have, something he believed in wholeheartedly and wasn’t about to let his patient refuse.
“Think of it as chiaroscuro—representative of light and dark, thoughts that are clear and obscure. The Half Naked Massage results in closure to both; it allows the woman’s lost love to make love to her one last time through the hands of the masseuse. If done properly, she can experience a sublime connection with the departed, in your case, with Tom. It can finalize things, finish things left undone and end a troubled relationship in the very best way, so that the woman being massaged, which would be you, can move on. This is my last chance. If I can help you say goodbye to Tom, to let your grief spill over and out so you can come to me and forget the pain he caused you, I have to take it. Ours isn’t just a shipboard romance, you are the very heart of me.”
He took my hand and walked me toward the table.
“Wait a minute. You expect me to believe that by simply massaging my neck and shoulders that you can force out the torment I’m having over his death?”
“I said nothing about the neck and shoulders, though surely they will be included. But only on your right side. I will be massaging everything on your right side. You will probably never be tended to so thoroughly as I will be tending to you but I’m not going to pull any punches, you’ll be vulnerable in ways that you never have been before and for the hour or so that this will take, I will own your body— at least the right side anyway.” His fingertips stroked the inside of my arm sending a shiver through me.
“Come, I’ll show you. You and Tom will be together one last time and then afterward, you will be mine, only mine.”
I
didn’t believe a word he was saying, but it was so obvious that he did, that everything he told me was sacred and true and was like money in the bank as far as he was concerned.
“What if I don’t believe in all this?”
“You will. When this is over, you’ll believe in many things you never did before. But the most important thing is that you will believe in us. I will show you how I understand the connection you and Tom had, then you will believe in us, and understand that you belong to me. Only me.”
He walked me to the door of a bedroom. On the bed I could see two sheets draped on top.
“Remove all your clothes then simply lie back on the sheet that’s open so that the edge of it comes up the center of your back. It’s been treated with a tacky lotion so it will stick to your skin without irritating. When you stand, just bring the rest of it around and close it down the front. The drapes have been measured to fit your body; it should cover your left side completely leaving your right side exposed. Feel free to use the other one to cover the rest of you until you get to the table where I’ll remove it, or be brazen and stroll out to me like a Viking goddess ready to do battle.
“For the next hour, you will be battling some pretty strong inner demons, join forces with me and we will force you to let go of them.” He removed the barrettes from my hair and placed them on a low dresser before turning me back to him. He cupped my cheeks between his hands and whispered against my lips, “Naked. Top to bottom, one side—the part I don’t own yet. Trust me.” A light kiss was feathered against my lips and he was gone.
What the hell had I gotten myself into now? Clearly he was focused, as if this hour or whatever was going to fix everything and put it all in perspective for me, make me forget a husband I had dearly loved, for whom I could not forget the grief he had caused. A husband I was convinced would not want to be forgotten so soon by a usurper so wild and wonderful.
I thought this was a bunch of claptrap. And I wasn’t sure what having Roman’s hands on me was going to do to my psyche. I would have to start all over again trying to forget him now! I shrugged my shoulders and began unbuttoning my blouse. Well, at least I would have a world class massage, of that I had no doubt. He had once told me that when you worked around ports all your life you learned the most amazing things, skills of all kinds that could come in handy one day, or exotic penchants that could prove to be your undoing. I didn’t doubt he had mastered some kind of Asian massage techniques that would fill me with passion if I let them. But right now, I was determined that I wouldn’t let them. He could touch me any way he liked. I would not respond to his plying fingers, no matter how good they were, no matter how skilled he was with working muscles and caressing flesh.
The Widows of Sea Trail-Tessa of Crooked Gulley Page 26