Damion

by Leanne Davis

  Surprised at the kind statement, I gaze at his profile. “There wasn’t much of a segue into that.”

  “I was just thinking that no one else would care to listen to things like that; I mean, about my dead wife. You get it and understand it.”

  “Yes. But do you think it’s like before and that’s the main reason you enjoy spending time with me? You get to relive your time with her through me? You get to excise the bad parts and relive the good parts of it?”

  “No,” he replies simply, tilting his mouth up. “I feel a lot of other things too. Not just grateful that you understand or are with me here. It feels brand new. It is brand new being together but I know I can say anything without shocking you or stepping beyond the limits. Which is crazy, and I shouldn’t feel that way.” He gives me another side glance. “Right?”

  I laugh out loud at his blatant question. “Owing to our start, we have a natural honesty and yeah, I’d like it if we could feel free to say anything and be who we are. Later, we can figure out if it means anything.”

  “Okay, so you’ve never been to the ocean or anywhere near it. Where would you go if you could? Is the sky the limit?”

  Surprised at the random inquiry, I gnaw the inside of my lip. Then I grin. “I would love to go somewhere tropical. I can’t imagine the wild colors and heat and sun. The turquoise water that looks fake. I have no idea what I’d do there. Lying on the beach really isn’t my thing. Sounds too boring. But maybe I’d like to be bored for a little while.”

  “There’s also scuba diving, sight-seeing, and guided tours. I’m sure anywhere tropical and touristy could offer a lot more to do besides lying on the beach.”

  We thus leave the subject of Ireena. I am further encouraged when we pass two more hours with straight conversation that is sometimes pointless and chatty, sometimes silly and funny, and sometimes poignant, real and serious. I confide my plans to work on more lifestyle and health programs. I was debating what to call them; maybe “lifestyle coaching” but that name makes me cringe. I’m not sure how to advertise, but I find my career more than fulfilling.

  And it’s all so easy to say.

  Finally, the road weaves through the thick vegetation and trees. Bushy new leaves fill in all the gaps. Signs appear saying Beach 4… Beach 2… and we’re getting closer. I nod at the sign. “Really? They couldn’t think of an actual name? Are we on Beach 1?”

  He throws his head back, laughing. “Now that you mention it, maybe it’s the first beach of the world. Or the people naming them were really lazy.”

  Coming down a hill, on the left side of the road, I spot campsites and a store. Tall trees flourish between them and beyond that… water.

  It’s exactly like the pictures I’ve seen. Surf surges towards the flat line of sandy beach. Driftwood rims the cove. But in person it’s so much more dramatic and breathtaking.

  “Online check in, so we can go directly to it,” Damion announces as he pulls up behind a single cabin. It’s bigger than I imagined for a cabin. The front is all glass. A good storm could crash the huge, old driftwood logs and trees straight into the cabin, or so it seems.

  I stand on the deck as he enters the door code to unlock it. I don’t turn to see our accommodations but stare out. Blue sky tops the clear, clean lines of parallel waves coming in. I am impressed by the dark, deep blue against the white foamy tops. The crash, boom, splash, and crash, boom, splash goes on and on. The waves run up on the sand as if racing with each other. Islands dot the horizon, standing tall with steep cliffs, capped with tall, ancient evergreens, like a cake topper over the icing that is represented by the islands. They are shaped a bit like upside-down cupcakes.

  Down the other end of the long cove are huge rocks, numbering upwards of twenty. They are multi-shaped, dotting the water and seeming to explode in mini-fireworks above them. The white water splashes and explodes.

  My mouth hangs open. Damion touches my arm. “Well, what do you think? Just rows of swells crashing over and over? Or do you see something awe-inspiring?”

  I can’t leave the sun-drenched view. “What do you think?”

  “Awe-inspiring; reminding me there is more to life than we can ever control or see or understand.”

  I nod. “You captured it in a simple sentence, something I never could do. It’s like the sea is trying to mimic the thunder. God. All this time I missed it. What else am I missing?”

  His arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me back against his hard, warm chest. Damion’s chin rests perfectly on the top of my head. He squeezes my waist. “I feel like I want to be there with you when you discover this for the first time. You’re pretty adorable right now. You made this place worth every cent I paid for it.”

  I smile and cuddle back at him. He makes me feel warm and glowing and real. Like he means that. “I’m going to pay for half.”

  “You’re going to discover something new and pretty and you’ll thank me with really hot, guilt-free sex… on a bed. How about doing that instead?”

  The weight of his head rests on mine. I can feel his chin moving as he talks. The forward words and what he says, both teasing and urgent, ripple through me. I wondered if he would be like this. Hell, I wondered if we could ever be like this. There was always so much sadness and strangeness between us going on. This magical moment on a sun-drenched deck, we are staring at a beautiful ocean beach and it’s new for us. It is so simple. It is so straightforward and happy.

  “As in payment?” I’m flirting. With Damion. I’m smiling for no other reason than that his arms are around me and his voice is near my ear.

  He drops his head, his breath warming my outer ear and making me shiver. “Oh, fuck, yeah, huge payments. Endless payments. You’ll wish you could pay me on and on and on...”

  I shiver at his words and the obviously seductive tone. Then he kisses the side of my neck, then my cheek and I turn so our lips meet. Our passion explodes for several long, unforgettable moments. Finally, we pull away and his hands frame my face as I blink up at him, confused. Dazed. Failing to process. He smiles and says, “Should we perhaps go inside?”

  I laugh as I glance around. Oh, yeah, there are other people. Families down on the beach. Kids running through the waves in the sunlight. An older couple only one cabin over sitting on their own deck, trying to look away. I turn to them warmly, but Damion throws his head back and laughs. He drops his hand to take mine and tugs me inside. Oh, my God, it’s awesome to see Damion laughing, almost boyishly. We’re having fun. Being sexy.

  “Oh, it’s lovely.” And it is. The living room features a leather couch and recliner. They face the wide wall of windows that frames the ocean and the beach and driftwood. Anyone passing by could look in. We are in a fishbowl. We’ll have to remember that. The kitchen is small and quaint behind an eating bar. Upstairs is a loft that looks down to the living room. The single bedroom with a king-sized bed has its own bathroom and tub.

  “Will this work?” Damion asks while coming up behind me. His smirk is lazy and relaxed as he drops my suitcase to the floor with his duffel bag. Wow, is this casual attitude new for him? Or us? Or just in general?

  And it’s sexier than all that angst and pain of losing a wife and finding comfort in me.

  Duh. Right? Being openly seduced by Damion is fun, flirty, sexy, new and almost uncomfortable for me.

  “It’ll work.” I grin back and we’re stuck staring at each other once again. Enjoying each other. What a thrill.

  He puts a hand out. “Let’s go for a walk. We’ll unpack and be more practical later.”

  Being more practical later sounds heavenly and new for me, especially where Damion is concerned. I dig in my suitcase for a light coat, as the breeze off the ocean is nippy and the temperatures are cooler than inland. I scurry down the stairs after him and we step off the back deck, our hands clasped. Who’d have guessed? I’m amazed at how easily he’s treating me as something beyond a friend. He assumes we’re lovers. I think. Hell, I don’t know. I never seem to
fully know anything with us. Maybe that’s the best part of it.

  We step onto the beach and wend our way over sticks, logs, and entire trees that are bleached by harsh weather and sunlight, now discarded on the high tide line of the beach. We stop before one that has kids climbing all over it, and my heart skips a beat in fear. The old rootball of what was once an old-growth tree, rises off the beach at least twenty-five feet. I shudder at the young boy now standing on top of it as he waves down to his brother. Ugh.

  We wander on. It’s glorious when the afternoon sunlight streams over the water, almost blinding me without my sunglasses. We get to a long, manmade jetty wall that Damion jumps up on. He starts to climb it with the ease of a gymnast and his sense of balance allows him to jump from one giant rock top to the next. Me? I’m more like a crippled old lady with arthritis in my hips and nearly crawl on all fours to get up. I want to see the view from the top, and it is so worth it. We sit together and meditate with grateful awareness. The river enters the ocean right beneath our feet, and a ring of islands lies across from us. The ocean waves hit them and the high side of the river as it sweeps past us to meet the ocean in an almost parallel route behind the largest island. The sun shines starkly, brightly and brilliantly over it all. To our right, the river flows from an old-world, perfect marina that could be the subject of an idyllic painting of small-town beach life. Wow, do I love it.

  It’s beyond amazing to make casual observations and he’s delighted with every reaction I have to it all.

  “You really don’t get out much, do you? See what you’ve been missing?” He sweeps his hands out.

  I gaze up at him, watching the wind rush over his face. His eyes are dark but shining and the corners of his mouth relax in complete ease. There is a serenity about him, which is new. “I see. I see now what I’ve been missing,” I say but my gaze is rigidly fastened on him.

  He must gather something from my more serious tone because he drops his gaze from the view to me. We stare into each other’s eyes without moving. Or smiling. Without need for explanation or excuse. He leans down and his lips touch mine. Just as soft and pure and new as if it were my, I mean, our very first kiss.

  It’s sorta weird to kiss. And hug. And touch. We look at each other with unmasked interest and sexy, heavy-lidded gazes or flirty smiles and smug eyes. It’s all so new. And no one is here to judge us. He was right to suggest doing this. We had to get away together to just see. Is it anything? Will it be just here? A vacation from real life? I don’t know. Or are we finally starting something real? Now we have the freedom to fully explore where it’s going to go.

  Can something that started out as grief comfort for another woman really become just about us? I don’t know any of the answers, nor would I believe any of them. But damn. Does it feel nice today. Now. In this moment.

  We walk the beach. The town. The marina. We eat fresh halibut that we buy from a local fisherman. I’ve never had it before and Damion cooks it in butter and parmesan cheese. That and a green salad are melt-in-my-mouth good. We sip wine on our deck, watching the sunset. Oh, the colors in the sky are so vivid and endless, reaching to the horizon of the ocean. The colors seem to explode and sizzle into the sea, melting in shades of gold and orange and painting the sky with delicate shell-pinks and lavenders and white.

  It creates a visible magic in the sky. In the air. Between us. In my heart. I have never felt like this with any man. Or anyone really. God, dumb me for never having done this before.

  “How come you never went anywhere before?”

  I contemplate my white wine. Damion, as it turns out, knows his wines and he paired this one with the white halibut for the perfect blend. Who knew? “Because coming first to Portland and then to the Gorge was really going someplace for me. You know? We grew up in an industrial area on the east coast. Nature for me was an empty lot or an untended sidewalk planter. So it felt exotic to be living where I am now. I never foresaw having a business of my own based on eating natural, almost vegan food and doing yoga. And now I’m teaching it to middle-aged women. I could never have predicted such a boon. I had no plans or goals or dreams, not really. I look back to the girl I was and feel sorry for her. She didn’t know anything. Ignorant. Short-sighted. Into such stupid stuff. Well, you know how I got out.”

  “Ireena,” he says easily with no awkward tone in his voice or intense, sad look. I’m surprised at the ease I now observe. Then he nods towards me. “I want Dayshia to have all those dreams and hopes.”

  “Well, I think with you and your family’s influence, she already has that because you’ll provide them for her.”

  “And you?”

  “I would hope so. I’ve missed her the last year. I played a huge part in her first year.”

  “Yeah, perhaps we handled that a bit crazy. All or nothing. Maybe we overreacted. And I definitely want you to be in her life. Ireena would have wanted that too. You know her and you can answer any questions she’ll have that I might not know how to answer. And I want her to know you better.”

  I nearly ask, “How do you want her to know me?” But instead, I say, “Maybe we overreacted, but a year ago, it was a panic to undo what we both thought was wrong. And coming off all that happened, maybe we needed this time. Alone. Quiet. To heal. At least I did. I can’t speak for you.”

  He sets his wine down and leans across the armrests to take my face in his hand. His mouth seeks mine. It’s so easy to give it to him. Without hesitation or resistance. He kisses me and stares into my eyes. “I think something healed for me. Whether it was making peace with how I got together with Ireena and conceived Dayshia while hurting Devon, or simply grieving over the death of my wife and settling in as a widower but it’s a smidgeon easier. The guilt almost killed me. I thought I was reacting to the guilt I felt with you. I couldn’t do it again. I had to learn for myself. But now? It feels different. It doesn’t feel wrong anymore so there doesn’t have to be any guilt. I’m here and you’re there and now it’s just the two of us.” He shakes his head and lifts his hand to brush at my hair. “Unless, I’m speaking too soon.”

  “No. It doesn’t feel like last time.”

  “Yet nothing much has changed.”

  “Time makes all the difference. A lot of time has passed. Time heals all wounds. Time marches on despite all the words and actions we humans say and do, Damion.” I shake my head and lick my lips. “It even makes things that were once wrong or awkward or weird or painful become… okay.”

  I look up at him and my damn heart feels like it’s hanging out of my eyes. They are swollen with emotion towards him. And hope. A dopey feeling that has never freaking appeared in my eyes before. But I can feel it. What the hell is going on? He leans in and kisses me again, and this time, I grip the back of his head to enhance our long, passionate, but tender kiss.

  He leans back in the rapidly fading sun, and the twilight outlines him. His teeth flash white and his eyes caress me. “This time? It is freakishly more than just okay.”

  And then he’s right next to me, dropping his arm around my shoulder. I rest my head on his shoulder as the ocean waves crash loudly and echo down the beach. The twilight sky and air around us are so brilliant and beautiful… and things are okay now. It all feels so damn okay.

  That new revelation both scares and thrills me.

  It’s very special for us to have sex on a bed without guilt, tears or thoughts of a dead woman uniting us. It’s much better to wake up together on the bed and cuddle in the morning light, leisurely working toward kissing… forever. We start to kiss and make out. We take all the time we’ve been thus far denied. We’re both so eager to learn how we like to kiss, how often and how hard. Tongue or no tongue and wandering hands or not, it’s all delicious.

  He stretches out with me lying against his side and my head on his bare chest. I love the sound of his heart beating underneath my ear and the warmth of his body against my naked skin. “God, I have to tell you, sleeping in like this… you know, adult-like, is p
retty epic.”

  I kiss his skin under my mouth and he rubs my head.

  “A little different from the usual, huh?”

  “Usual is super early. This is pure heaven to just lie here. Not be needed. Nothing to do or get done. It feels sort of decadent. Almost selfish.”

  I actually don’t know, as I don’t have a child. Sometimes his reality ripples through me and reminds me there is a lot more waiting at home than whatever we can find and enjoy here. This is the best scenario for us. Alone and easy and fun. Both of us are rested and no longer exhausted since we aren’t busy entertaining a two-year-old.

  For now, we’re eating breakfast on our deck. Then we go walking and exploring. We browse in some of the quaint shops, and end up hiking up through the woods. We climb to a lookout high above the ocean and the view of the sea stretches for hundreds of miles across the open ocean. My feet get sore and my skin feels dry from the constant breeze. Spending our afternoons on the deck with anything from wine to beer to cocktails is my favorite time… I love knowing we can fall into our loft bedroom at any moment we choose; it makes everything even better.

  We talk and eat and exercise. We also relax in all kinds of ways beyond yoga or stretching. My inner soul is on fire. We are connecting with each other, fully engaged and stretching the limits while at the same time smiling and enjoying one another. We talk about everything, from the mundane to silly. The random topics of the world and the onslaught of politics present things we completely disagree about. We talk about everything. No topic is off limits, including Ireena. We can easily discuss how we know each other and grew to be so connected. It’s crazy to me. We found this new way of interacting that isn’t based on the past, and flourishing now while molding the future.

  We spend a week like that. I was worried we’d get bored with only each other being there but it’s the polar opposite. The longer we are here, the better it gets and the more comfortable we grow with one another. We develop a routine that keeps us together all day and all night and there is not a single moment I grow tired of the constant time together. Something so new for me. I’ve never spent so much time with anyone, including my own family.