3 Weeks 'Til Forever

by Yuwanda Black

  “I run my own business and know how to be alone. In fact, I quite enjoy it. Maybe too much according to some of the females I’ve been involved with over the years.”

  “But, you’re right about one thing . . . I am getting to that age where I want to settle down and have a special someone to come home to. But for me, it can’t just be anyone.”

  “Look, every man or woman can get their physical needs satisfied. That’s just a reality. And that’s what Natalie was for me, although we were, no – are – friends too and have a lot of fun together. “

  “This island is small. We know a lot of the same people, which means we’re constantly running into each other. She probably has hopes of us getting back together because I haven’t taken another long-term lover since her, even though ours was never a committed relationship.”

  Janey took a mental note of the phrase ‘long-term lover’, letting it go and instead saying, “So I ask again, why did you stop dealing with her on a physical level?” Janey repeated.

  Without hesitating, Redmond responded, “Because I’m 38 years old. I’m getting to a point in my life where I want to settle down permanently. Even though what Natalie and I shared was fun, it wasn’t real and I felt emptier and emptier every time I left her bed, or she left mine.”

  “Forgive me for being so blunt, but there comes a time when a man wants to stop fucking and start making love Janey.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, we’ll take great sex every time, but I’ve had the other – great sex in a committed relationship. I have hopes of finding that again . . . of finding love again.”

  “Again?” Janey questioned.

  Chapter 8: Redmond

  The bartender came over from behind the bar and asked if they’d like to order drinks.

  They’d been sitting and talking for almost an hour and he said that since they’d been so intensely in conversation, he hadn’t wanted to disturb them.

  Amazed that time had flown so quickly, Redmond cocked an eyebrow at Janey as if to ask, “Are we having drinks?”

  Janey ordered a glass of wine, a Chilean Syrah. Redmond opted for a beer, his seemingly preferred alcoholic beverage of choice.

  “You’re a diverse drinker. I expected you to order a whiskey like you did at the club last night.”

  “One of the prerequisites of owning a travel blog network is that you always have to sample new things in order to relay them to readers.”

  “Well I hope what you ‘sample’ on your travels is limited to food, drink and sporting activities,” he replied.

  “Why are you insulting my honor, Mr. Hillyard?” she asked coyly in her most charming southern accent.

  Glad that she could take a joke, he replied, “Well most certainly not madam; I’m only thinking of your virtue and safety.”

  The bartender promptly appeared with their drinks, then just as promptly disappeared.

  “We missed the sunset, which is where I was going to take you this evening, then to see a steel band up the beach. We can still catch that if you want, as I hope I’ve answered all of your questions about there being a woman in my life and that you have no more reservations about going out with me.”

  “Actually, I’m quite enjoying our conversation; so can we play it by ear? You’d just gotten to a very interesting point in your life story, which was about finding love … again. Care to expound?”

  “Nosey little devil aren’t you?” Redmond kidded.

  “I prefer the word curious. In my line of work, it pays to be curious,” Janey shot back.

  Redmond chuckled at that, then quickly turned from her, planting his gaze on the early dawn of the evening out the window. Mars couldn’t have been farther away than he was from her at that moment.

  Janey just sat quietly, letting him take his time to tell his story.

  “Layla was the love of my life,” he started.

  “We’ve known each other practically all of our lives. We started dating when she was 14 and I was 16. It was puppy love that grew into lasting love, at least for me.”

  “We got married when I was 21 and had a daughter when I was 30 – which was a total surprise because we’d basically given up on having children. But we were happy together, or so I thought.”

  Redmond paused to pick up his beer, and just held it.

  Janey continued to sit quietly, knowing that something that was obviously so painful could only be shared when the person was good and ready to do so.

  Redmond looked over, taking note of how patiently she waited, not pressing him. He appreciated that. Most people weren’t that intuitive, he thought.

  Taking a sip of his beer, he continued, “One day, I came home from work to find my wife and daughter gone. Layla had taken her to my mother’s house on the other side of the island. Of course, I didn’t realize this at that precise moment. I just thought they were out and would be home soon.

  “But as it got later – 7 o’clock, 8 o’clock – I started to worry because they were almost always home when I got there, and it gets dark as you probably know around 7:30. So when I hadn’t heard anything by 7:45, I started calling her. No answer. Her phone kept going straight to voice mail.”

  “I panicked. I called her friends and nobody had seen her all day.”

  “Finally, I called my mother. She said that Layla had dropped our daughter off earlier that afternoon and said she was going to be back a little late, like 8 or 9.”

  “That’s why my mom hadn’t called me, because it was still well within the timeframe that Layla had given her for picking up Kemalia. That’s my daughter’s name.”

  “I relaxed a little, because by then it was only 8:15, but I was still worried because I couldn’t reach her by phone. However, I reasoned that if she told my mother she’d pick our daughter up by 9, then she would. So I just waited.”

  “By 9:30, I was in full-blown panic mode. I called my mother several times and Janey never showed up.”

  “I called the police, but much like in the states from what I understand, they won’t start looking for an adult until at least 24 hours have passed. And as my child was safe, there was nothing I could say or do to get them to start looking.”

  “At that point, all I could do was wait.”

  “To make a long story short, two days later, I received a telegram. She told me that she’d met someone else that she’d been seeing for a while and was leaving to be with him.”

  “She apologized for not having the courage to tell me to my face; said she hoped I’d ‘understand’ and didn’t hate her too much; and would stay in touch with my mother to keep tabs on our daughter.”

  “She didn’t even mention where she was and to this day, I don’t know. That was six years ago.”

  “During this time, if it wasn’t for my daughter, I don’t know what I would have done. But I had to remain a sane, functioning individual for her.”

  “For almost two years, I didn’t even look at another woman. I’ve always been a workaholic and I think that – and my daughter – saved my life.”

  “A couple of years after my wife left, I met Natalie. She was fun, more than easy on the eyes and a no-pressure kind of female, which was just what I needed at the time.”

  “I stopped wanting to know where my wife had run off to about a year ago, around the same time I broke things off with Natalie. And that’s what made me realize that I was ready to really move on with my life.”

  “The more I began to come back to life, the more I realized that I wanted what I once had with my wife. And, in spite of how well me and Natalie clicked, that deep connection wasn’t there.”

  “I’m not sure how much sense I’m making right now. You women have much better ways of explaining yourselves when it comes to this kind of thing, but trust me, men have those feelings too.”

  “Anyway . . . then, I met you. I can’t explain it, but something snapped into place that felt right . . . and here we are.”

  Amazed at just how well he’d expressed himself – an
d how openly – Janey grabbed his hand and said, “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me enough to share such a difficult part of your life.”

  They sat in silence for a few more minutes and watched the purple and orange haze in the evening sky fade to midnight blue, which signaled full night had fallen.

  Switching gears, Janey piped up asking, “Redmond, do you know anyone who does tours out of this area?”

  “The reason I ask is … I need to go to the northern part of the island. I’m working on a series about life outside the main tourists spots for a client and need someone – someone trustworthy – who can take me to a couple of remote villages so I can interview some of the locals about their way of life?”

  “I’d like to go for at least three days, possibly four. The guide I’d lined up had a sudden urgent family matter and can’t take me. I was hoping to put my client off by writing about some of the places right around here, but they’re quite insistent on some ‘non-touristy’ content about the island.”

  “So if you could recommend someone who can take me away from this area – again, someone you trust – I’d really appreciate it.”

  “I know the perfect person and they could leave on Thursday and stay gone for at least a week. Would that work for you?”

  Janey lit up like a Christmas tree, exclaiming, “Oh my god you’re a life saver! That would be perfect. Can you introduce me or give me a number? I’d like to make arrangements as soon as possible.”

  “I was thinking it would take me at least a couple of days to track down another guide I’d feel comfortable with, then another two or three to make arrangements to get going. That would have been pushing my timeline to the limit. Actually leaving on Thursday would be absolutely perfect!”

  Redmond said, “How about 9 am? It’s only about a six hour drive to where you want to go, which would leave plenty of time for you to be introduced to a few families and start your work the day you arrive.”

  “Shouldn’t I be discussing these details with your contact?” Janey asked.

  “You are,” Redmond said.

  “But, bu . . .”

  Laughing and cutting her off, Redmond said, “Janey, I not only drive locally as a taxi, I do group tours, day tours, private tours … all kinds of tours. I’d be happy to take you anywhere you need to go on this island.”

  “And I could introduce you to all kinds of people – from lobster fishermen, to basket weavers, to ganja dealers. You’ll have all the stories you need, and then some.”

  “But how safe would I be?” Janey thought, immediately realizing that she’d verbalized the question.

  “This is business. You’ll never have to fear for your safety – from me or anyone else – so you can scratch that off of your list of things to worry about,” Redmond said, allaying her fears.

  “Now, do we have a deal? Do we leave at 9 a.m. on Thursday?”

  An inexplicable sense of relief flooded her and she responded, “Yes! Thank you. Again, you are a real life saver.”

  “In the meantime, you said something about a steel band up the beach?” Janey said, getting up. She was relieved to have gotten plans for her visit to the north out of the way and she was ready to celebrate.

  Redmond stood and nodded, dropping his eyes to the red polish on her toes which were playfully highlighted by the tangerine color of her flip flops.

  Dear Lord, I’m noticing the color of toe nail polish and flip flops! Pull it together man, he thought.

  Desperately wanting to kiss her but sensing it was inappropriate in light of the business arrangement they’d just made, he reached for her hand, kissed the back of it and told her he’d be waiting when she came back down.

  Janey went back to her room, changed and met him in the lobby 20 minutes later.

  . . .

  Over the next few days, they spent quite a lot of time together -- having drinks at off-the-radar bars, talking politics with his friends, and catching amazing sunsets from isolated high points on the island.

  Even though she’d visited Sol y Besos many times, it was like seeing it for the first time with Redmond because he not only knew every nook and cranny of it, he knew everybody.

  Chapter 9: Road Trip

  Redmond arrived 15 minutes early and Janey was running her customary 15 to 30 minutes late on the morning of their trip to northern part of the island.

  She blamed her penchant for being tardy squarely on her mother, who could never seem to be on time for anything – from birthday dinners to church services, her mother was always, always, always late.

  Usually, her father could be found sitting patiently in his favorite frog-green La-Z-Boy, waiting for her.

  For some reason, a piece of advice he gave her when she was about 9 or 10 years old came to her as she rushed around the room piling last-minute necessities into her travel bag.

  “Janey, if a man can’t wait 30 minutes for the woman he loves, then you don’t wait 30 seconds to toss his ass. A good woman is always worth waiting for. Remember that.”

  Even when she was small, her father always talked to her like an adult, much to her mother’s chagrin, especially when he used curse words. On that day though, instead of telling him to mind his manners because she was a child – a girl child – she didn’t say a word.

  Janey remembered dating Jamal and how impatient he used to be with her sometimes. She always had a bit of nerves in the pit of her stomach when it was time for him to pick her up because she knew that he liked to be on time.

  Internally, she acknowledged that it wasn’t fair to keep him waiting – and she usually didn’t beyond 10 or 15 minutes. But she remembered her father’s words of advice on many occasions, and now realized just how cherished her mom must have felt because her dad was never impatient waiting for her. He treated it almost like an honor.

  Although the concierge had rang and alerted her that Redmond was downstairs at 8:45, he waited to come up at 9 on the dot.

  When she still wasn’t ready, he told her to take her time, offered to help and went onto the balcony to look out over the ocean when she told him that there was nothing she needed him to do.

  Packed and ready at last, Janey stole a look at Redmond as he stood on the balcony, arms laced behind his head as he stared out to sea.

  He had large hands and the short sleeve of the pale yellow tee-shirt he had on stopped just above the well-defined muscles in his arms. A leather band with a two tiny seashells was visible on his left wrist.

  He seemed to prefer simple, natural jewelry instead of that tacky, in her eyes, gold that so many men on the island wore.

  Beige cargo shorts and thick, dark brown leather sandals completed the casual look. The look was so simple and common, yet uniquely … him.

  Seizing control of her thoughts, Janey called out, “I’m ready.”

  Redmond turned, gave her a wide smile and said, “Your chariot – and bell hop – await, milady.”

  . . .

  Sol y Besos was only 123 miles long and 37 miles wide, so you could easily traverse it in a day if you had to.

  Redmond took the coastal route, which meant the ocean would be visible almost the entire trip, until they started to climb into what was known as ‘Hill Country’ on the northern part of the island.

  This part of Sol y Besos was inundated in all kinds of exotic woods and plant life like bamboo, Chechen (Caribbean Rosewood), Scorpion Orchid, Yucca and wild banana (crab claws, lobster claws). It all grew completely wild for as far as the eye could see in most places, which made it all the more breathtaking.

  Janey made sure to pack the extra battery for her digital camera so she could take all the photos she needed without fear of her camera going dead.

  The day couldn’t have been more beautiful for the approximately six-hour drive. Janey had only had coffee before they set off, so about an hour into the trip she turned to Redmond and asked, “Are we going to stop for breakfast? I’m hungry. Did you eat yet?”

  Redmond replied, “I only ha
d papaya juice, so yeah, I’m feeling some hunger pangs too. I know a little spot about a half hour up the road. Can you wait that long?”

  Smiling, Janey replied, “Sure, that sounds perfect.”

  Pulling into the little country roadside restaurant almost a half hour later on the dot, Janey and Redmond seated themselves.

  There was no air conditioner, which was common in many establishments, especially once you left the main tourist areas. It was already quite hot and the two ceiling fans in the restaurant only seemed to be pushing the warm air around, not providing a lot of relief from the heat.

  A southern girl, Janey didn’t mind warm temperatures. She’d rather be hot than cold any day. And as Redmond was a native, the heat didn’t bother him any either.