Waking Up Gray

by R. E. Bradshaw

  She carried her wares home, unpacked everything and put it away, then made herself a snack of some of the fresh peaches she just purchased. No way was Lizbeth fainting again. She had taken the warning very seriously. Lizbeth also went through her workout routine, which consisted mainly of stretches, but included crunches, lunges and her standard twenty-five pushups. She had been remiss the last couple of days, not exercising, but she thought the bike ride Saturday had been quite a work out, so she didn’t feel too bad.

  Lizbeth had to keep busy or she would spend her time engrossed in thoughts of Gray O’Neal. She checked across the street, still no Fanny. She finally pulled a novel off the bookshelf in the parlor. Previous renters had left a wide assortment of reading materials behind. She chose a Sneaky Pie Mystery by Rita Mae Brown and took it out on the porch with a bottle of water. She crawled up on the day bed and began to read. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep.

  During her nap, she dreamed of Gray. There was nothing sexual about the dream. She was talking to Gray and wandering the streets of the village. Then Gray was in the boat, waving at Lizbeth on shore. Suddenly a large wave rose up out of the harbor, taking the boat down and Gray with it. Lizbeth woke with a start, bolting to a sitting position, momentarily unable to fully wake. It wasn’t exactly a nightmare; it didn’t last that long. It was more like those dreams she had that made her jump right before she fell into deep sleep. It did unsettle Lizbeth, but she shook it off and went inside to fix supper.

  She cooked a steak on the grill and had a salad for the side dish. It was after six when Lizbeth got into the shower. She took her time, shaving her legs and pits, and conditioning her hair. Lizbeth wasn’t planning to sleep with Gray on their first…well, date. Then again, she had not planned to have a crush on her either, so better prepared than not, she thought. She finished in the bathroom and went upstairs to dress.

  Lizbeth combed through her hair. If she didn’t style it, it would form natural waves. It hung down just a little below her shoulders. Lizbeth thought her hair was her best asset. Most people told her it was the combination of all that dark thick hair and her piercing Elizabeth Taylor blue eyes. She stood in front of the mirror naked, having closed the blinds, just in case Gray was already home and upstairs. Lizbeth had discovered this morning that if Gray left her blinds open, she could see right into her room. She had not seen Gray, but she could clearly see the painting of a schooner on her wall.

  Lizbeth had worked hard to stay trim and firm. She liked the way she looked at forty. Today forty didn’t feel so damn old. Lizbeth felt younger than she had at thirty, but back then, she was living with a man she had grown to despise and raising a daughter. Her life was much better now. Lizbeth’s marriage had ceased to feel like wasted time, and felt more like a learning experience to take forward into this second chance she had been given. It had taken four years to get here, but she was pleased with the results.

  Lizbeth coated her skin with body butter that smelled like fresh coconut. She took her time with her makeup, not wanting to wear too much, just enough to enhance her natural looks. She put on the sexiest bra and panties she brought with her. She hadn’t packed for a sexual encounter, as this was supposed to be a working sabbatical. She added her black Bermuda shorts and a white cotton tank top. Lizbeth didn’t want to dress up too much. They were just going for a walk, Gray had said. She added a little perfume and called it good.

  Lizbeth made it downstairs at seven fifteen. She drank a glass of wine to calm her nerves and waited. It was the longest fifteen minutes of her life, but promptly at seven thirty, there was a knock at her front door. She was back in the kitchen, about to pour another glass of wine, when the tapping on the screen door startled her.

  Lizbeth left the wine glass on the counter and headed up the hallway. She could see Gray smiling on the other side of the door. From the look on her face, Gray liked what she saw. Lizbeth did too. Gray looked fresh, like she’d just stepped out of the shower. Her hair was still a little damp on top. She was wearing khaki cargo shorts and a white tank top, with a lightweight, short sleeved, white cotton over-shirt, unbuttoned. The ribbed tank top contoured to her body. Lizbeth could see the faint ripples of Gray’s ab muscles through the fabric. A shiver shot down her spine.

  “Good evening, Miss Jackson,” Gray said.

  “Good evening to you, Miss O’Neal.” Lizbeth stepped out on the porch, pulling the front door closed behind her.

  Gray opened the screen door for Lizbeth. “You ready to take a stroll?” She asked.

  Lizbeth stepped down the steps and looked up at the sky. “It’s a beautiful evening for one.”

  Gray let the screen door shut. She reached down, lifting a small soft-sided cooler from the ground at her feet, sliding its long strap over her shoulder. She held out her hand, indicating the way to Lizbeth. Lizbeth smiled and started walking in the direction Gray pointed.

  “What’s in the cooler? You’re not planning on getting me drunk are you?” Lizbeth teased.

  Gray smiled, saying, “It’s just a little something, in case you forgot to eat. Wouldn’t want to have to carry you back to the house.”

  Lizbeth laughed. “Oh, I ate. If I keep swooning into your arms, people will talk.”

  Gray grinned. “People are already talking. That was the most exciting thing to happen at church in awhile.”

  “Where are we going?” Lizbeth asked.

  Gray just smiled and said, “You’ll see.”

  They proceeded down Howard Street to Fig Tree Lane and headed toward the Back Road. Lizbeth’s body was on high alert. It could sense Gray’s close proximity and the prospects excited every nerve. Gray smelled like fresh soap and linen sheets that had been hung in the sun to dry. A hint of fresh fruit caught the air, probably from Gray’s shampoo. Lizbeth got close enough to feel Gray’s body heat once, but quickly put more distance between them, because the thrill took her breath a bit.

  Gray was easy to talk with. They spent the first part of the trip talking about the weather and the coming storm. Gray didn’t seem too worried. She thought it might rain and get windy, but she wasn’t concerned. She told Lizbeth that Fanny, who was eighty-five, had never left the island in a hurricane, not even during the storm of ’44, which did a real number on the Outer Banks.

  “They estimated the winds were over a hundred miles an hour here in the village, and the tide ran high at over fourteen feet. The entire island was underwater,” Gray was saying.

  Lizbeth was astounded, looking around, imagining the water over her head where they were walking. “Did anybody die?”

  “Nope, there has never been a single death caused by a hurricane on Ocracoke Island. Some drunks drowned in a boat just off shore, in the Sound, but they would have been all right if they’d just come on land, instead of partying out on the water.”

  “What about the houses? What about your house? Fanny said it’s been there since 1809.” Lizbeth was fascinated.

  “The water washed through and left it standing,” Gray said, and then added, “Even with all that water, the island only lost six houses and a couple of businesses. The boats were a different story. Quite a few ended up on dry land, up in the village. Took a while to find them all. Never did locate some of them. They just washed away.”

  Lizbeth loved these island people. She said, “It’s so amazing how the folks down here just clean up and go on. You never hear them complaining.”

  “There’s a price to pay to live in such a beautiful place,” Gray said. “Every now and then we have to pay the sea back for what it has given us, at least that’s what Grandpa always said.”

  They were now on the Back Road. It too was a narrow street, but it was paved with asphalt and had clearly marked lanes. The winds had calmed to a light breeze. It was still warm, probably in the mid seventies. The few clouds there were earlier had blown away, exposing a clear beautiful blue sky fading to lavender above. On the horizon, ahead of Lizbeth, she could see the faint glow of the reddening sunset t
hrough the trees. It was a perfect evening. There were still no indications of the coming storm off shore.

  “So, how’d you end up a forty year old college senior?” Gray asked.

  “Life,” Lizbeth answered, not offering anymore.

  Gray took the hint and changed the subject. “I can’t believe I don’t remember you, except for the rope incident. We must have crossed paths more than once.”

  “We were always so busy being on vacation, I guess we just didn’t run into each other, and if we did, you wouldn’t have been hanging out with dingbatters like us.”

  Gray laughed. “No, I stayed out on the water pretty much. Didn’t have too much time for foreigners, I guess.”

  “How did you ever leave this place?” Lizbeth couldn’t understand why someone would leave a paradise like this.

  “Fanny insisted I go to college. I wanted to anyway. I loved school.”

  Lizbeth interrupted. “I’m a little surprised. You don’t strike me as the structured education type.”

  Gray grinned. She knew what Lizbeth was saying. “Structured no, but reading and learning, yes. I made good grades, got a scholarship, and went off to East Carolina.”

  “What’s your degree in?”

  Gray showed a little pride when she said, “Marine biology. That’s why I got the job at Sea World. Not much of a marine biologist job market here.”

  “No, I guess not,” Lizbeth commented. She paused and then asked, “Were you homesick?”

  Gray looked reflective as she thought for a moment, and then answered, “A little, sometimes, but I was young and seeing the outside world, really for the first time. My time in San Antonio was full of so much life. I didn’t have time to be homesick until just before I came back. By then I was overwhelmed with the need to come back here.”

  “How long have you been back?” Lizbeth asked.

  “Five years, in December.”

  Lizbeth saw the first flicker of something in Gray’s eyes, pain maybe. Something had happened to Gray five years ago.

  Gray shook off whatever it was and continued, “I started working at Sea World the first year they opened in Texas, as a lowly hired hand. I had just graduated. That fall I got to see the first killer whale born there, Kayla. I fell in love with her and my job that day. Seventeen years later, I had worked my way up to Aquarium Curator.”

  Lizbeth was intrigued. “And you just decided to come home?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” Gray said, softly.

  Lizbeth wanted to know more, but she let it drop. It appeared they both had pasts neither really wanted to talk about.

  They reached British Cemetery Road and turned toward North Point. The sky above was darkening, turning more lavender than blue, a pink cast toward the horizon. As they approached the British Cemetery, Lizbeth grew quiet. She had always felt this simple plot of land, donated by the people of the island to England, was a place owed respect. A German U-boat torpedoed a British ship on May 11, 1942, and the tiny plot was the final resting place of four of her seamen. All hands were lost. These four men washed ashore on Ocracoke and the villagers gave them a Christian burial. It was a reminder of how close the Germans actually were to America’s eastern coastline.

  Respects paid, and continuing on their walk, the lightheartedness returned along with the twinkle in Gray’s eyes.

  “Fanny tells me you have a daughter,” Gray said.

  “Yes, Mazie. She turns twenty-two January first,” Lizbeth said. “She graduated from UNC last May and got married in June. They live just outside of Durham, near Fearrington. She starts law school in January at Duke and soon will join her father at his firm.” Lizbeth heard her own tone change when she mentioned James. It was still hard not to hate him.

  “Sounds like a smart girl,” Gray said.

  Lizbeth brightened. “She is. She’s brilliant. So much smarter than me.”

  Gray looked down at Lizbeth. “Don’t sell yourself short. She had to get it from somewhere. Doesn’t sound like it came from your husband.”

  Lizbeth laughed. “What makes you say that?”

  “Whatever he did to piss you off must have been incredibly stupid,” Gray said, grinning

  Lizbeth smiled back. “How do you know?”

  Gray didn’t hesitate in her smoothness. She was seductive without even trying. She lowered her voice. “You’re here alone, aren’t you? I don’t see a ring. I’m assuming there was a divorce. He had to be stupid to let you go.”

  Lizbeth flushed warm all over. She was glad for the fading twilight. They were approaching the Sound. Lizbeth could just see it around the bend in the road. The blue sky faded from lavender to pink, as they neared the water. Where was Gray taking her? Moreover, what was in the cooler?

  Lizbeth had not said anything since Gray’s last comment. Gray’s presence overwhelmed her, and the seductive tone in Gray’s voice had hit its mark. Lizbeth was blushing like a little girl. When Gray put her hand in the middle of Lizbeth’s back, to get her to move to the other side of the road, Lizbeth heard her breath catch in her throat. She hoped Gray had not heard her. She felt utter disappointment when Gray removed her hand after they successfully made the crossing.

  Gray stepped in front of Lizbeth and pulled a low hanging cedar limb out of the way. She stood there looking at Lizbeth, as if Lizbeth was supposed to walk into the woods behind the tree. Lizbeth stopped and raised her eyebrows in question.

  “Gray O’Neal, you are not taking me into the woods to tie me up are you?”

  Gray let out a laugh. “No. Come on. I want to show you something.”

  As Lizbeth passed under Gray’s arm, which was holding the branch aside, she said, “I hope there’s no rope in that cooler.”

  Lizbeth heard Gray’s mischievous laughter behind her. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

  Lizbeth kept her head down, walking ahead of Gray, trying to avoid the low hanging, twisted limbs of the live oak in which they maneuvered. In a few minutes, they emerged from the woods onto a small sandy beach. It was isolated, with no houses or other people in sight. A large piece of driftwood waited like a park bench for someone to sit and watch the sunset. It appeared that’s what Gray had planned.

  It was an incredibly romantic scene. The Pamlico Sound spread out in front of them, as far as the eye could see. The water was calm and sparkled with the reflection of reds and pinks mingled in the sky above. The little ripples of waves lapped rhythmically at the edge of the water. The sun, now a giant red ball, was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a long glowing image across the surface of the water. A few ducks swam just off shore. Pelicans and sea gulls flew overhead, looking for a place to nest for the night.

  Lizbeth followed Gray over to the driftwood bench. They sat down and just stared out over the water for a few hushed minutes.

  Lizbeth broke the silence. “This is magical.”

  Gray didn’t take her gaze from the water, but responded, “Yes, it is.”

  A few more minutes passed before Gray opened the cooler, producing a bottle of white wine, two wine glasses, and containers of cheese and crackers. Lizbeth watched silently as Gray’s strong hands removed the wine cork with ease. She poured Lizbeth a glass and then one for herself. Lizbeth thought at that moment, with the way the light was shining on her, Gray was the most beautiful human being, man or woman, she had ever seen. Gray smiled and Lizbeth felt a shock of electricity throughout her entire body.

  Gray held out her glass for a toast, saying, “To magical places.”

  Lizbeth touched her glass to Gray’s and said, “Amen.”

  They watched the sun setting for a few more minutes before Gray spoke. “Now that I’ve been back here a while, I know I could never leave again.”

  Lizbeth looked over at Gray. “It must be thrilling to wake up surrounded by this every day.”

  Gray continued to survey the horizon. “Some folks are just born where they should stay. Wandering around out there in the world won’t make the
m happy. This is all I need to make me happy,” she said, but there was a melancholy in her voice.

  Lizbeth commented, “Ah, a pirate married to the sea.”

  Gray laughed. She put some cheese on a cracker and handed it to Lizbeth. “Here, try this. One of my clients from Wisconsin sent it to me.”

  Lizbeth felt playful and teased Gray. “One of those married women clients you’re so fond of?”

  Gray grinned at Lizbeth and cocked her head to one side. “Wow, I need to be careful what I discuss on the street when your windows are open.”

  “I wasn’t trying to listen, if that’s what you’re implying,” Lizbeth shot back playfully.

  “Guess I had my beer ears on. Didn’t realize how loud we were talking.”

  Lizbeth had a large glass of wine at the house and she was almost finished with the one Gray had given her. The wine gave her courage to begin her own seduction game, and to her dismay, she did. She lowered her eyes over the top of her wine glass. “Do you do that often? Pick up married women, I mean.”

  The question caught Gray a bit off guard, but then her raffish charm returned. “Just doing my part to keep the tourists happy.”

  Lizbeth snickered. “Well, that particular tourist seemed happy enough when she drove off on her moped.”

  “Were you watching me, too?” Gray asked, still grinning.

  “I got up to see what the noise was and I became intrigued, you might say,” Lizbeth said, holding out her glass for more wine.

  Gray poured the wine and studied Lizbeth. She could feel Gray’s eyes on her. Gray was sizing her up. Lizbeth could almost see the wheels turning behind her eyes. Gray was trying to decide what to do next. Lizbeth’s body was screaming, “Kiss me.” Her brain was trying to talk rationally, but only sounded like a mumbling old woman in the corner. Lizbeth had stopped listening to her. She sipped her wine and watched Gray.

  Gray put more cheese on a cracker and put it in her mouth. She stared out at the water, slowly chewing, and then washed it down with wine, before turning back to Lizbeth, apparently having resolved whatever she had been mulling over. The seductive grin returned to her face.