“You’re drunk!”
“Yup!” he says and stops to turn on his radio again, then invites, “Come on!”
I hesitate for a moment, but standing there, watching Oliver stand and sit and laugh as he slaps water on himself to wash off makes emotion rise in my throat. I’m watching him live in the moment and suddenly I realize I don’t want to simply watch, I want to participate.
Quickly, I jump into the fountain too and before long we’re cracking up and stomping and splashing water at each other. We strain to capture the water flowing down over the statue placed mid-center. I look up at it. “Check me out!” I yell, “Don’t I look just like her?” I gesture to the mermaid and then myself as I mimic her pose.
“You’re way hotter than any mermaid,” he states matter-of-fact. I snort and then turn to him when he hollers, “Hey!”
“What?”
“A penny! There’s a bunch of them on the bottom. And other coins too.”
“This must be a wishing fountain.” I look down into the water and it finally dawns on me that the shimmer and shine at my feet has been all kinds of coins. “How did I not notice those before?”
“Duh, cuz you’re drunk.”
“Duh, uh, hate to break it to you, but so are you.”
He splashes me and I splash him back, which results in an all out screaming and splashing war. It’s like we’re having our own Friends fountain montage.
I’m startled when Oliver suddenly grabs my arm, “Uh. Remy! Hurry. Let’s, get out and grab your stuff. We have to go!”
The urgency in his voice makes me do as he says without question even though I feel sluggish and think I may be pouting a bit. I swing my leg over the large lip to get out of the fountain and almost fall, which makes me giggle and want to throw up at the same time.
I hear someone call out, “Hey! You! There!”
You’d think when I hear that and look up to find security in the distance that it would make me stop laughing, but instead I laugh harder.
“Oh my god, Oliver. They’re coming for us! We’re in so much trouble!” Grabbing my belongings, I turn to find Oliver doing the same.
He takes my arm again, “Run!”
I begin running with him and we support each other so neither falls as we attempt to run faster. Voices behind us continue to call out. “Stop! We need to have a word with you.”
“We are so busted!” I state the obvious.
“Not if I can help it. Besides, they have no idea who we are.”
“We’ll just have to go incognito the rest of our stay.”
He smiles and presses the button for the elevator over and over again.
“I’m about to abandon all of my shit and just go for the stairs,” I tell him which makes him laugh and push the button again.
When it finally dings and the doors open we jet inside and press the button for our floor over and over like it will make the doors close faster. Security appears in our sight just as the doors close. We look at each other with wide eyes and then bend over at our waists and laugh so hard we can’t catch our breath.
“I’m such a rebel,” I state when I calm down enough to speak.
When the elevator doors open on our floor we hurry down the hall both silently knowing we aren’t in the clear yet. I hate the elevators that give away what floor it’s at to those waiting at the bottom. When we reach the door I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet as Oliver digs into his pocket, but his smile turns to a frown. He pats the other pockets.
“Oh no. Did you lose the key?”
His answer is to start pulling out the contents of his pockets. I choke on a laugh when he pulls out several coins from within, some falling to the ground in the process. “It has to be here somewhere.”
“Oliver!”
“What?” he looks at me absently still pulling crap out of his pockets.
“You took coins from the fountain?”
He stares at them in his hand for a moment then looks at me like I’m asking the stupidest question he’s ever heard, “These are my wishes.”
“Um,” I choke on a laugh, “That’s not how it works.”
He shrugs and shoves them back into his pockets and proceeds to look for the room key. Just as I start the process of digging in my bag to look for my own key he whoops in excitement, “Got it!”
When I look at him he’s pulling the key out from inside his swimming trunks. “Do I even want to know?”
“What? There’s a pocket in here with a zipper.”
Before I can reply we hear a ding from the elevator down the hall. He looks at me wide eyed and I know I have to look the same way. “Hurry!” I tell him and begin pushing against the door as if that alone will open it.
The first time he swipes the key it doesn’t work.
The second time he goes too fast and the red light flashes instead of the green light.
“This is it. We’re going to get kicked out,” I moan.
He slides the key in and out again and a whoosh of relief leaves me when it flashes green and we are quickly on the other side of the door, backs against it, staring wide eyed at each other once more before we explode into laughter.
When we calm down, Oliver looks at me chuckling softly, the affects of alcohol shining in his eyes, “I had a lot of fun with you today.”
“Me too.”
“I’m glad. I can’t wait to see what trouble we get into tomorrow.” He smiles and steps away from the door. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”
I nod, and he stares at me for a moment. Something passes between us though I’m not sure what it is. He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear again. I think I can get used to the gesture. After another moment where I feel like my body is tight with expectation, he walks away and disappears into the bathroom. A moment later I hear the water turn on.
It takes me a few minutes to move away from the door.
As I look at myself in the mirror, it’s hard to believe that cancer is ravaging the inside of my body; the outside has never looked better. I’ve got a lovely tan color on my skin, new freckles across my cheeks, no under eye circles or bags, and white lines marking where my swimsuit begins and ends. I’ve even let my hair do its own thing, for once not caring about the natural curl that usually drives me crazy and it looks great.
I feel happy… so alive… for the first time in… a really long time. Aside from the slight headache this morning from yesterday’s alcohol consumption there’s not another ache or pain in sight. Health-wise I feel normal. So how can it be that I’ve been given this diagnosis? Truth is, it would be easy to believe that I’m fine and my diagnosis never happened and it was all a horrible mistake.
I actually woke up with a smile on my face this morning. I barely remember falling asleep last night. Oliver and I were once again incredibly tired after our day full of sun and alcohol that we napped when we got back to the room after showers, watched some TV and went down to one of the resort restaurants to grab a bite to eat. Afterward, I happily collapsed into bed easily finding my dreams
When I woke, my rustling also woke Oliver. Over breakfast he shared that he has a surprise for me today.
“A surprise? What kind of surprise?”“I’m not telling you, but wear something bright in color.”
“Bright?”
“Yes. Do you have something?” The items I packed quickly run through my mind and I nod.
“Good. Can you be ready to go in an hour?”
“No problem,” I tell him but don’t move.
He smiles, “I’m not telling you a thing.”
I give him my best pout, “Not even a hint?”
“Nope.”
With a sigh I dramatically gather what I need and go to the bathroom, his laughter following me.
Now, I’m standing here in the bathroom staring at myself feeling anxious and full of self-doubt. It’s dumb, but I can’t shake these nerves. I’ve known Oliver for practically my whole life. I’m more comfortable with him than I am an
yone else. He knows me better than anyone. So what’s up with this?
Even though conversation has never been a problem between us I worried about conversing with him while we were away together. I mean, coming up with things to discuss while having a quick dinner after not seeing each other in a while is easy. Continually having something to talk about over a few days makes me nervous. Maybe in part because I worry that if conversation stalls the one thing I don’t want to discuss will be brought up. So, before leaving home, I looked up topics of conversation on the web. Up popped more articles than I imagined existed with long lists of things one can ask a ‘guy you like’. Feeling like a teenager, it didn’t take long to lose myself in a black hole of websites that offered all kinds of suggestions. Ideas ranged from ‘What are your dreams?’ to ‘What’s your favorite sexual position?’ Luckily, there were some good things in between so I have nothing to be nervous about. I’m equipped with all kinds of things we can talk about and everything will be fine. At least that’s what I tell myself yet again.
Feeling a boost of confidence I decide to quit stalling and leave the bathroom. As if reading my mind, there’s a knock on the door, “You about ready?”
“Yes, absolutely.” With one last look at myself, and an additional quick and silent pep talk, I give my hair a quick fluff and then walk out. “Ready.”
Oliver rises from the chair where he was waiting and I admire how handsome he looks. Dressed in a white dress shirt rolled up at his forearms and a pair of navy blue shorts and sandals with a face full of content; he looks relaxed and happy. The white brings out the color he’s gotten from the sun and his eyes sparkle.
“You look beautiful,” he tells me and if I didn’t know better I would swear the heat I feel on my cheeks after his words is because I’m blushing. But that can’t be; I don’t blush.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I smile and then falter. “Well, not that you look beautiful, but handsome. You look handsome.”
His smile widens, “Give me just a second and we’re out of here.”
He escapes into the bathroom and as soon as the door closes I exhale and sit on the edge of the chair he vacated. What the hell is wrong with me? If I think I’m acting weird, I know he’s going to realize the same and how embarrassing would that be? This is Oliver. My Oliver. I know I haven’t spent a lot of time with him in a long while, but good lord I’ve known him for ages. Whatever this is… it needs to stop. When the door swings back open I hop up and plaster a smile onto my face. “Ready?”
He nods and holds the door open for me, “Let’s go!”
After taking the elevator down and walking to the lobby, the concierge calls a shuttle for us. So now I know how we will reach the mystery destination. While I wait mostly patiently, Oliver speaks with the concierge quietly. The shuttle pulls up to the curb and Oliver holds the door open for me before getting in next to me and we take off. The driver never asks where we’re headed which is strange, but I’m assuming Oliver handled it.
While he makes menial conversation with the driver, I enjoy the sights. The blue of the ocean appears as far as the eye can see, beautiful tropical plants and flowers are everywhere and tourists immersed in conversation walk or ride bikes from place to place. I see cars pulled into a beach head and smile at the surfboard tucked under a man’s arm. When we drive through a busy part of town I enjoy seeing all kinds of restaurants, shops and even grocery stores and a church, though the architecture and building material is different from what I’m used to seeing. Hawaii feels so exotic that it’s hard to remember that we’re still in the US.
Before long, we pull up to a building and Oliver smiles then practically shouts, “We’re here,” like a child.
The driver gets out of the car immediately and opens the door for me and takes my hand to help me out, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, miss.”
Oliver pays him before turning to me, but I’m already distracted by the words I see on the front of the building and turn to him in disbelief. “You saw this on my list.”
He shrugs, “They don’t have one back home. I know they’re your favorite.”
I can’t help the wide smile that forms on my face and now I feel like a child. “Oliver,” I say. Only his name needs to be said for I know it conveys everything I’m feeling - my excitement and how much this means to me.
“Well? Are we going to stand out here forever or do you want to go see some butterflies, my little caterpillar?”
“Caterpillar? Seriously?”
“What?” He raises a brow, “It seems fitting.”
I can’t believe the giggle that comes out of my mouth. I seem to do that a lot around him. “Let’s go!”
From the moment we walk inside Butterfly Haven my continued excitement maintains my childlike giddiness. We stop inside the doors so Oliver can buy our tickets then once they scan our tickets we walk through and begin our visit. There’s a large circular room with different entrances to various parts of the haven. The ceiling is a glass showstopper. Hanging in various places from the ceiling are beautiful glass butterflies. The light that shines through the ceiling hits their forms and makes vibrant prisms bounce around the room almost making it look as if the lights themselves are butterflies.
Then there’s the entrance to the garden – the butterfly’s habitat, a restaurant, a theatre room that has butterfly educational videos and even a gift shop. Aside from the glass butterflies and the prisms of light, there are other butterflies hanging in various places and even mechanical ones mounted on the wall flap their wings. Mounted TVs educate guests with various butterfly facts and even trivia in locations and at a volume that only enhances the experience.
“How in the world did you find this?”
“You know, I’m aware that my incredibly good looks make it hard for people to remember that I’m also incredibly intelligent, but I thought you were different. I’m hurt.”
“You’re hilarious.”
“I know. It’s another one of my great attributes.”
“Seriously, how did you know they had a place like this here?”
“When conducting my research on activities for us, I happened upon a recommendation for this attraction. I couldn’t believe the luck and of course I had to bring you. It was just meant to be.”
“I can’t believe this,” I smile and try to take it all in.
Oliver can add patience as another one of his attributes because he is amazing as I take my time looking at, listening to, and reading everything available. When we finally get to the double doors that lead out into the garden, I’m practically jumping out of my skin in anticipation. I mean, yeah, I’ve seen butterflies before, but not like this. Not all different kinds and so many at once. Now I understand why Oliver told me to wear a bright color too – it’s what attracts them.
Walking through the double doors, we stand in a vestibule and listen to the instructions before we can enter the second set of doors. Among the rules, we’re told to be careful where we step while visiting as sometimes butterflies rest on the ground and we want to avoid crushing them. They also make suggestions of how to respond should they light upon us.
Once we carefully walk through the second set of doors, the change in temperature hits us immediately. A butterfly habitat is warm and humid. My eyes immediately dart around and I look for the little insects I love. They are not hard to find. Immediately, my eyes settle on one perched upon a bright pink flower. Its wings are electric blue and black and they open and close in a steady rhythm.
“Oh, look at that one! Look how pretty!” Oliver obediently looks where I point and we watch it for a few minutes before we continue on. We take our time, point out various ones we want to focus on, even stop and read about the different plants and flowers throughout the garden.
“Look at those two,” Oliver points. “Are they… they aren’t…”
“Mating?” A member of the staff says. “Yes. That’s exactly what you see.”
> Oliver almost looks embarrassed and I can’t help it, I laugh. Loudly. “Don’t look so shocked. Even butterflies mate, you know.”
“Lucky bastards,” he says making me laugh.
“Oh, look at this one,” I point out and stare at one flying through the air. I’m startled when I feel a flutter against my cheek and almost bat at my face before I think better of it.
“One is trying to get a closer look at you,” Oliver points out. “Keep still.”
I do and smile when it lands on the tip of my nose and another on the front of my shirt. I wiggle my nose hoping to dislodge it since it tickles too much to stand for long. It flies away but before I can move, Oliver touches my arm, “I’ll take a photo.”
He moves around me so that he’s in front of me. I see him take out his phone to capture the photo but I’m too distracted by a butterfly so beautiful I almost can’t believe my eyes. Pinks, purples, reds and even a little green are found in its wings. It has to be one of the most beautiful ones I’ve ever seen.
“Why do you love them so much?” Oliver asks me quietly.
Looking away from their beauty to yet another, just a different kind, I smile at Oliver. “I’m sure even you’ve heard all the beautiful things they say about them. But for me, something I’ve always struggled with is change. Butterflies are a reminder that just like the caterpillar that undergoes a transition, it doesn’t happen without change. Without it the caterpillar never would have learned to fly. I have something along those lines on a picture hanging in my room. My mom got it for me.”
“I did some of my own research about butterflies before we left,” Oliver clears his throat. “I wanted to know more about them before we came here. In part so I could impress you with my vast knowledge.”
I laugh, “Is that so?”
“Yes. Like for example, I know that there are twenty-four thousand different species of butterflies and that their body temperature has to at least be eighty-six degrees for them to fly.”
“Wow, that’s correct. What else?”
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