by Lynn Shurr
“Then tomorrow night, lovely Winnie, whose skin is as soft as moonlight through the palms.”
He drew one finger down the side of her face, and she shivered as if he’d disrobed her. “I don’t see how one day will make any difference. My routine with Teddy will be the same.”
“I’ve stayed here before. Saturday is movie night, popcorn and a family flick, maybe something more adult after the kids are in bed. Easier than taking ten children to the movies and buying them refreshments, Mrs. Joe says. We slip out and have two whole hours together. You know, Winnie, love is best made beneath the palm trees.”
“I’m not certain. I—”
“I built this place for you. In Samoa when we court a woman, we bring gifts to the family. This is my gift. When we are finished with it, the campers will enjoy it, but first, it belongs to us.”
Understanding dawned. “So that’s what you have been doing, courting me. But why? I’m a divorced woman, not some shy little virgin.”
“The Rev made it very clear that if I desired you I must court you properly.”
“Well, thank you, Revelation Bullock, for that! All this time, I wasn’t sure you were really interested or simply flirting with your fancy words and gestures.”
“Samoans enjoy flowery speeches, the longer the better. Tomorrow night?”
Now that the words were said, the offer made, Winnie hesitated. “You do know one cold winter could kill these trees and a hurricane might come along and blow away the sand.”
“But not before tomorrow night, the only thing that truly matters, my lovely Winnie.”
All her life, she’d planned ahead, years ahead, and once she married Doug, she’d planned for both of them. When he would finish his medical training, where they would open his office, and what year to start their family—last year.
“Yes, tomorrow night.”
****
Anticipation built as Adam, Winnie, and Nell scoured the grocery stores of Chapelle for tropical fruits, denuding the entire display of exotic offerings at the Winn-Dixie. Adam wheeled a cart entirely filled with coconuts and topped with a few bags of spinach and some plantains. Bless her heart, Winnie could not hold back thoughts of great big hairy balls as she watched him gather what he could for a traditional Samoan feast. All the while, he grumbled about a complete lack of taro and breadfruit, two of the few starchy foods Cajuns ignored. Winnie smiled at him with a foolish grin she saw reflected over and over in the mirrors above the produce. By the time they got back to the ranch with their bulging bags—bulging being another word that brought prurient thoughts to her mind—Joe and Knox had returned with a truckload of banana leaves and two slaughtered and cleaned pigs for Adam’s inspection. Approved, the swine went into the coolers, and the children helped unload the heap of banana leaves by the barbecue pavilion and umu pit. The men stacked split pecan logs from the woodpile over the lava rocks and covered them with a tarp to keep the mound dry and ready for the firing of the oven in the early morning.
Even with all the preparations for the party, time ticked by slowly for Winnie. Adam on the other hand seemed entirely relaxed. When Nell suggested an easy dinner of salad and pizza, he happily chipped in for four fully loaded while the children clamored for their favorites. In the end, the deliveryman hauled fifteen pies to the Billodeaux residence. Adam devoured two with everything on it by himself while Winnie pecked at the slice on her plate and sipped a diet soft drink. She wasn’t good at spontaneity while Adam appeared to live no other way. Her joyous anticipation slowly turned to dread way down in the pit of her stomach.
With movie time set for seven p.m., Joe cranked up the popcorn machine in the home theater while Nell herded the kids into their seats. Teddy sat on the end of the first row in a special indent made for wheelchairs, and Stacy took the seat next to him as merry popping and a buttery aroma filled the air. Dean and Tommy slipped into the second row directly behind them. Nell began handing out red and white-striped boxes of popcorn and finally settled herself at the far end of the row near the triplets. Joe joined her, slinging an arm around Nell’s shoulders as if he planned to make out with her during the entire film. Winnie and Adam lingered near Teddy and close to one of the exit doors.
“You two want popcorn before we get started?” Nell asked.
“Ah, no. Adam and I are going for a walk. It’s a nice night for—walking.”
“In the palm grove,” Adam added, not so helpfully.
Teddy stared at his nurse with a look of desertion in his eyes. “How come? It’s a real good movie about a dolphin that lost its tail and learns to swim again with a fake one. Don’t you want to see it, Miss Winnie?”
Winnie recognized Nell’s subtle psychology in film choice. Maybe she should stay and support her patient. She hesitated while Adam took her hand and prepared to lead her out the door.
Dean leaned forward and said loud enough for Teddy and Winnie to hear but too low for his parents to catch on the other end of the row. “They want to be alone to do what grownups do when they lock the bedroom door and tell you not to knock unless there is blood on the floor or the house is on fire.”
“And what’s that?” Stacy piped up as the theater darkened and the opening credits of the move started to roll.
“You and Teddy are too little to know.”
“I know,” Teddy insisted, his cheeks flushing pink in the light from the screen. He turned his wide blue eyes away from Winnie, who blushed herself.
“Stop whispering, Dean,” Jude demanded. “The movie is starting.”
“Teddy, I’ll be back in time to help you get to bed. I promise.” Her patient did not answer.
Across the dark room, Joe’s voice said, “Go on. Enjoy yourselves. I mean that.”
With that blessing, Adam took possession of her narrow shoulders with one big arm and guided her into the night.
Chapter Thirteen
Winnie and Adam moved through the grove of oaks into shadows made deeper by the bright security lighting around the house. With a minimum of toes stubbed on gnarled roots, they arrived at the pool with its underwater lights shining brightly beneath the clear water.
“We should get some beach blankets,” Winnie suggested.
“Sand makes a great bed, but okay.”
She found a couple of thick covers and also snatched a flashlight from a utility shelf while Adam waited patiently. He did not seem to know the meaning of the word “rush” unless it applied to football. As for her, she’d checked the weather report twice during the day, cool but clear tonight. They would be happy for the blankets in the end.
“You know, our eyes will adjust to the darkness, and the moon is up, but sure, bring the flashlight if it makes you feel better.”
He divested her of the roll of bedding and let her lead the way to the solar-lit walk into the palm grove. Halfway to the back of the beach, he steered Winnie from the path and guided her to where two palms crossed, artistically backlit by the moon. “Here.”
Fussing with its corners and wrinkles in the cloth, Winnie laid down one of the blankets and made a pillow of the other. She lay down and stared directly into the eye of the man in the moon far above them. Adam stretched out by her side and rested his head on his crooked arm. He ran a finger over her lips.
“Soft as moonlight, pretty as a plumeria blossom.” The finger roved down the length of her neck and over the slope of her upturned breasts. “Like a wave coming to a crest.” He kissed her in no hurry at all, his lips broad and bold on hers.
Involuntarily, her hands rose to keep him there, and tangled in the long, soft mane of his curls. He edged closer, and she felt his other hand moving under the clingy pale yellow top she wore, neither low-cut nor particularly sexy, but easy to remove along with the zipperless brown stretch pants and sling-back shoes she’d chosen that morning for the same practical reason. Adam paused to divest her of shoes, slacks, and shirt, revealing a second layer. The demi-bra flattered her small breasts, she knew. The panties weren’t lacy,
but sheer and low-cut in that same light yellow color. She’d looked up the plumeria blossoms he kept comparing her to and chosen accordingly.
He gazed at her long enough for her doubts to return. She should have gotten a wax down below, not that she was very hairy, and she’d always considered that process embarrassing and unnecessary for a married woman and a nurse with no time to primp. Certainly, he’d seen better breasts. All football players had, she was certain. He opened the front catch of her bra and exposed what she had to offer.
“These have beckoned to me from the first time I saw you. They offer themselves to me.” He crouched between her legs, lowered his mouth to an uplifted light brown nipple, and sucked. It puckered with the strokes of his tongue. He paid the same tribute to the other, and she felt his adoration clear to the tips of her toes and in the very center of her being.
He removed the panties and stroked her with one large finger. “Not ready yet, my Winnie. I can tell. You are thinking too much.” He raised that finger carrying her scent to a small crease between her eyes and rubbed it away. “You need a distraction. Want to see my tattoos?”
No, she did not. He probably had a Sinners devil on one hind cheek and his college mascot on the other. She wanted him to plunge into her and make her stop thinking. Winnie delved her hand into his jeans and found no briefs underneath. He’d come prepared, too. She pulled off his black Sinners T-shirt and attacked the zipper of his jeans, parting easily from the strain of his erection against the fabric. She pushed the jeans down. Oh my god! Now she was distracted, completely distracted, and not only by the length and breadth of what he offered.
From an inch above the waist to tops of the knees, Adam’s tattoos covered him thickly like another piece of cloth. Patterns accented by heavy dark patches ran around his hips and thighs, but all the lines converged on his erect penis. She groped for the flashlight and turned the beam on his body as he rose to step out of his pants. The length of his erection and even his scrotum possessed designs. Patterns of leaves, swirls like waves and water, and small animal figures emerged against the dark background. As he turned his back, modeling, she swore she saw a chain of oblong figures that resembled tiny footballs. “Incredible,” she breathed.
He gave her full frontal nudity again. “That’s good, right?”
“Yes, very distracting. That had to be incredibly painful.” She gestured to the main attraction.
“Believe it or not, the area around the navel hurt more.” He lay down beside her, arms in back of his head. “Go on, you can touch it. The color won’t come off.”
She traced the designs along his hips and back to his penis over and over. It gave a small nod each time she did. “But why, when no one sees this?”
“A very painful rite of manhood. Sammy Tau and the rest of the guys I lived with in Pago, all except the one headed for the ministry, we went together to get our tats before leaving for mainland colleges. Took a month to complete them in the traditional way. The ink is put in this comb-like device and pounded under the skin with a mallet.”
“Dear God!” Winnie’s hand moved protectively over his scrotum.
“They can do more delicate work, too, but for the dark areas, that is the way to get the best effect. Our group vowed we would never forget our roots in Samoa. I let my hair grow out for the same reason. Of course, Sammy never left the islands.”
Winnie noticed a slight droop in his erection. Feeling daring and free of inhibitions for the first time in her life, she stoked his shaft and knelt to place her lips on its bulbous head. She took him in and swirled her tongue around its tip just as he had done with her nipples. They tightened again at the thought. The throb of him against her palate was answered by a thrum between her legs.
“Winnie.” Adam tugged gently at her shoulders. “Are you ready—because I sure am.”
“More than.”
His large hands cinched around her waist, raised her up, and settled her right where he wanted her to be. His hips pumped from below, and repressed Winnie Green threw back her head and let the breeze in the palms fan the soft waves of her hair out behind her. Her knees sank into the sand beneath the blanket as she pushed against him. She absorbed the moonlight shining on his bronzed skin and the song the fronds made above her. Gradually, she allowed her eyes to close as that feeling low in her body built and built and built. Adam at the last moment flipped her over into the sand and dominated her with the last few strokes that brought them both to fruition. Slowly he withdrew, keeping his weight off her delicate figure and drawing her to his side in an embrace beneath one arm.
“See, love beneath the palms is the best—as long as we don’t get hit by coconuts.” He gently rubbed the sand from her shoulders and hips.
She nodded, sifting some of the granules in her hair onto his chest. “We should go back soon, but I admit, I could lie here all night long.”
“You sure? Because I brought three condoms. And they are still in my jeans. Sorry. You weren’t the only one who got distracted.”
“No worries, as you like to say. My sister, the doctor, handed me birth control pill samples the day she brought me here. The Rev might be the moral conscience of that family and his whole congregation, but Mintay is practical down to her toenails. I think she hoped we’d get together from the very start. I put them into use during that courtship period when I wasn’t sure if this would ever happen or not.”
“Very glad it did, my lovely Winnie. No worries about STDs either. Too much London Missionary Society upbringing for me to be a devil with the ladies, like Joe in his day. Besides, I was keeping myself clean for my taupou, that virgin princess I was supposed to marry.”
Winnie experienced that same sinking feeling she’d had when Doug told her about big-busted, blonde Talia. “Now I understand the first words you said to me. Must be hell settling for second best.” She rolled away from him even though she ended up in the sand.
A muscular arm gathered her in again. “After tonight, I’m pretty sure I’m over her. I want to be with you. When can we do this again?”
“Your cottage anytime the children are at school. I’m fairly certain our walk in the grove did not fool Joe and Nell one bit, and not even Dean, judging by his ugly remark to Stacy.”
“Dean’s opinion doesn’t count. None does but ours. Too bad coming here in daylight would be a bad idea.”
Winnie got to her knees and brushed off the sand again. She found her clothes and put on a show for him as she dressed in the moonlight, a reverse striptease. He could have used a condom again when she finished, but they really had to get back and put Teddy to bed. Adam covered his tattoos, and she lit their way to the house before the movie and the popcorn ran out.
Chapter Fourteen
Winnie slept soundly once she washed the sand out of her hair and off her body, but the household awoke early on Super Bowl Sunday. She and Teddy were the last to arrive at the breakfast table that held only a pitcher of orange juice, a container of milk, and a variety of fairly healthy breakfast cereals. She supplied Teddy with his choice and a cup of juice before pouring some coffee and making toast for herself. Beyond the kitchen door, she recognized Adam’s voice organizing some event that started the children chattering. Eager to join them, Teddy bolted his food. The sound of a solid whack and a chorus of “ahs” prompted him to scoot outside and join in the commotion.
Winnie admitted watching Adam splitting coconuts with a single blow of a machete went right up there with seeing him tackle an opponent on the football field. Putting all his considerable strength into his swing, he raised the heavy-bladed knife again and dispatched another. Coconut milk splashed. The dogs lapped it up. Joe and Knox Polk got into the act and showed off for their ladies. Nell allowed Dean and Tommy to take a turn, but held the others back as bits of shell went flying. Once all the coconuts had been slaughtered, interest diminished considerably when the meat inside the husks had to be pried out with a screwdriver or knife, a more difficult and less masculine task.
“Why do we need so much coconut?” Winnie asked.
“To make palusami. You can’t eat roast pig without palusami, lovely Winnie,” Adam answered. “Next, we grate it and squeeze out the coconut cream.”
“I remember grating coconut for my Nana’s custard pies when I was a child.”
“Good, then you have experience. All of this must be grated and squeezed dry. You be in charge. I must start the wood to heat the rocks for the cooking.”
“I have experience in getting my fingertips and knuckles grated, that’s all.”
“You will do great! Call me when all the coconut meat is shredded.”
The children wanted to join in the grating, and as Winnie predicted, adhesive bandages and antibiotic ointment soon came in handy. They lost interest with injuries and shot outside when the rented rock climbing wall and party bouncer shaped like a castle at the girls’ request arrived. However, Nell called them back to task once both were erected to entertain the children expected to arrive in a few hours. She set the youngest to wrapping white and sweet potatoes plus plantains in aluminum foil and insisted the older girls continue shredding. “Slave labor,” Stacy muttered. Dean and Tommy begged off saying they had to groom and saddle the ponies for rides and ducked out for the barn. Teddy, working a grater, gazed wistfully after them.
Nell and Corazon fixed large platters of tropical fruits: wedges of papaya and mango, slices of star fruit, kiwi, and pineapple. “I can count on Mintay to bring a large green salad every time, but unless one of Joe’s sisters does a pot of green beans fixed with salt pork, fruit will be about the only non-starchy side dish,” Nell claimed.
Winnie sucked a scraped knuckle. “Want to switch jobs for a while?”
“No way. He’s your Samoan, not mine. I don’t have to learn to make palusami.”
“He’s not mine exactly.” Winnie ducked her head and even looking down, still managed to knick herself on the grater.