by Anne Carol
“I know you will.”
“I’ll sing to him, starting with the moment we find out we’re pregnant.” He rubbed my belly.
“Anything else?”
“Most importantly, any child of mine must know how to make the perfect Marmite sandwich.”
I guffawed. “Of course!”
We continued dancing, so close we were flush against each other. Soon I noticed he was inching us toward the bedroom. The music played on in the background, Nina Simone crooning about how she was feeling, a new life dawning for her. Oh, how I could relate.
When the back of my legs touched the edge of the mattress, I instinctively tilted my head back so David could work his lips down my neck. My skin prickled at the tender sensation, and it wasn’t long before I slipped under his spell.
“’I’m feeling good…’” Nina belted out, and I had to agree with her.
In the next beat, I was in his arms, cradled against his chest. He gently set me on the bed and crawled up alongside me. Brushing my hair back, he stared into my eyes. “This is going to be like the first time.”
My breath caught. Well, this is our second honeymoon.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered. I did as he asked and proceeded to savor every sensation like it was our wedding night all over again.
The brightness of the room woke me from satisfying slumber the next morning. David was studying me, resting his palm on my belly.
“What are you thinking, goofy?” I asked drowsily.
“I’m thinking…three tries so far. Maybe—”
“Oh no, you’re not going to do that,” I groaned.
“Do what?” he asked, unable, or unwilling, to wipe that silly grin off his face.
“Count how many times we’ve tried for a baby.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it. I’m excited.”
“I am, too. But charting the number of times is going to make this too mechanical. I just can’t.”
“Fine, I’ll keep my own tally. I won’t even mention it.” He winked. “How about we set all that aside and go exploring today? We can take a nature walk, maybe find a waterfall?”
“Ooh, I’d love that!”
“Good. Make sure to bring your camera.”
We ate a quick breakfast, packed a picnic lunch, and headed out. David wore a hat and glasses to hide from any potential fans.
Luckily we only found one other couple on our walk through the rain forest, and we guessed, based on their matching “Kenny Rogers” T-shirts, they probably weren’t fans of Vinyl Fog. On our hike, we spotted a few hummingbirds, a handful of geckos, and an abundance of lush green vegetation and red exotic plants. I was glad I’d brought extra rolls of film with all the photos I was taking.
The trail eventually led to a clearing and then a narrow path which brought us to a tiny deserted beach. It looked like something out of an old movie. I didn’t want to tell David the thought that popped in my mind. Besides, I knew he was hungry, so we lay out the towels and set up our lunch of sandwiches, chips, and fresh mango chunks. I gazed dreamily at the shore, lost in my imagination. But then I noticed a hotel in the near distance. Wanting to avoid other tourists, I suggested that after lunch we backtrack and try to locate one of the waterfalls.
“Might have to walk a bit to find one, but I’d rather stay off the beaten path,” I said.
“Agree.”
Once we finished eating, we dipped our toes in the water to cool off. After walking all morning, we were both clammy and hot. I was now on a mission to find that waterfall. Standing in a cascade of refreshing water sounded like heaven.
It was another hour before we came upon the most breathtaking waterfall. At the base of the fall was a pool of glassy water. I grabbed David’s arm and gushed, “Honey, you have to take my picture under the waterfall!”
“Can you stand in there?” His eyes squinted.
Trying to ignore the concerned tone in his voice, I stripped down to my bikini, which I’d worn underneath my regular clothes. “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.” Tossing aside my shoes, I inched my way into the water.
“Careful,” David warned, wrinkling his brow.
“Ahh,” I sighed. “This water feels amazing.” I was able to reach the soft and pebbly bottom, so I tiptoed closer to the waterfall, praying it didn’t go too deep. Halfway there, I turned around and waved at David. “Hey, after you get my picture, you’ll have to come join me. It’s nice.”
“Just please take it easy.”
Worry wart. I wasn’t even pregnant yet…well, that I knew of. Maybe that was why he was acting like a freak. Then again, this was just David.
“Bingo!” I announced as I got within inches of the streaming water. Thankfully, it was still shallow enough that my upper body remained above the water line. “Here goes nothing…”
I crouched lower and tipped my head back, crying out with relief as I allowed the water to pour down my face and drench my hair. “This feels so good! Like a fresh water shower. Isn’t God amazing?”
A camera click caught my attention, and I went into model mode, posing like I was doing glamour shots for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. As if David would ever allow that.
“All right, enough of that, Beth. I don’t want you getting any ideas.” He must’ve read my mind.
He set the camera down and tugged off his shirt. I whistled at him. “Not bad, music man!”
Grinning, he plunked himself down in the water and joined me. We frolicked like teenage lovers with no cares in the world: splashing each other and kissing under the waterfall. By the time we trudged out, we were a soggy mess.
We toweled each other off and put our dry clothes back on, only they didn’t stay dry for long. Partway through our hike back to the cottage, the sky opened up, and we had our second fresh water shower of the day.
I held out my palms to feel the drops. “This is nothing like London rain. It’s warm.”
“It is, but I’m not keen on being a drowned rat. Let’s get back so we can dry off again.”
He took my hand and we started jogging through the sprinkle of rain, laughing the whole way. I hadn’t felt this carefree in years. It was like a dream, and I hoped I’d never forget this holiday as long as I lived. I’m so incredibly blessed.
Since the rain made our original route muddy, we took a different one back. Along the way, we walked past a restaurant with outdoor seating. A rustic chalkboard sign advertised a reggae band that evening. “David, can we go? That sounds like fun!”
“Sure, I wouldn’t mind listening to a live band.”
“Let’s clean up and get some rest first.”
After an intoxicating shower, we fell into bed for a long snooze. This was a routine I could get used to: sleep, make love, read, take a long walk, have a private picnic, rinse, repeat.
Once we got our energy back, we cooked up dinner and had another stunning sunset meal. The palm trees silhouetted against the orange horizon created a God-painted picture. I tried to capture the image on film so I could use the photo as a framed wall hanging.
Polishing off the last bite of steak, David said, “We should get going if we want to see that band. We’ll do dishes later.”
I changed into my navy polka-dot sundress, while he wore loose-fitting chinos and a Hawaiian print button-up. He also donned a phony pair of eyeglasses and threw on a Panama hat.
“Sexy…” I said, pinching his side on our way out the door.
“Oh, boy,” David grumbled when we arrived at the busy restaurant. “Looks like we have company.” He pulled his hat down, and I scanned the tables for an empty spot.
“Over there,” I said, gesturing to a small table in the corner, away from the crowds.
Not long after we sat down, the band started playing, and I allowed myself to relax as I swayed along to the cadence of the reggae music.
David set down the paper menu. “I’m going to put in our drink orders. Looks like there are some fun non-alcoholic drinks on the men
u.”
“Ooh, something with tropical fruit would be good.”
“Any preference?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Passion fruit?”
He smiled. “I’m on it, doll.”
Soon, he was snaking his way through the crowded tables, toting two glasses filled with orange liquid and garnished with pineapple slices. One sip and I was in heaven. “I might not be able to stop at one. This is delicious.”
He touched his glass to mine. “Cheers. To our second honeymoon.”
“Cheers. And thanks for arranging this trip. It’s been a dream.”
The first glass of juice went down fast, and David told me to get another if I wanted one. After my second glass of passion fruit, the sugar in my system had me restless, so I pulled him onto the small dance area just as the band started playing, “Is This Love,” a popular Bob Marley tune. I was on such a high from the vacation I couldn’t help singing along.
A young couple sitting nearby gave us a once-over, but—stupid me—it didn’t occur to me she might have recognized David, so I continued singing, bringing us more attention. Being married to David for over three years, I often forgot that others saw him as a famous rock star, whereas to me he was just my husband who played guitar in a band.
At the unmistakable click of a camera, my rock star husband tensed and then leaned down. “Angel, we need to leave—now.”
Not waiting for an answer, he put his arm around my waist and led me off the dance floor—and away from the restaurant. I cried out in protest, “I wasn’t finished dancing.” But David had bigger concerns. I’d never seen him move so fast. My pace couldn’t come close to his, so he swung me up into his arms and carried me all the way back to our bungalow.
She looked so peaceful in sleep, her hair splayed across the pillow like a golden fan. I’d watched her for the longest time last night after she fell asleep. Of course I wanted her to wake up so I could make love to her, but I was trying to be the patient husband.
You’re so beautiful, I mouthed, and it was all I could do to not smother her with kisses. The smell of her skin made my head swirl with impure thoughts. How I’d love to shimmy her nightgown up and—
She made a tiny moan, and her face bunched up, like she was in pain.
“Beth?”
She moaned again, and in the next beat she whipped the covers off like they were on fire. I panicked when she ran to the washroom. “Beth!” I jumped out of bed and followed her, but she slammed the door in my face.
“Don’t come in, please!”
I stood at the door and called, “What’s wrong?” I wanted to respect her wishes, but she had me worried. “Are you sick?” Perhaps it was a just female issue. “Beth?”
“Just an upset stomach, David. Stop worrying.” She knew me well.
“Do you need anything? Your book? A glass of water?”
“David,” she said, exasperated. “I don’t think you want to come in right now.”
“Come on, we’re married. I’d be glad to bring you something to read.”
“Fine.”
Relieved it wasn’t something serious, I went on the hunt for her latest book and also filled a glass with water. She thanked me with a tired-sounding voice, and I told her to holler if she needed me.
Even though Beth felt poorly, my own tummy rumbled, so I returned to the kitchen and cooked up some eggs and sausage. I grabbed my music magazine and took my breakfast out to the patio. About five minutes later, Beth appeared, looking pale as she stretched out on the lounger beside me.
“You going to live?” I asked, noticing her holding her stomach.
She pinched my shoulder. “Nothing fatal, I promise. But I might need to lay low this morning.”
“Did you eat something that didn’t agree with you?”
“I think I overdid the fruit yesterday. Nothing to fret over.” She turned toward me and smiled. “You know, once I’m pregnant, you’ll have to get used to funky things happening to my body. You can’t go crazy every time I get sick or feel ‘off’.”
That was one thing I dreaded about her getting pregnant. I hated seeing her suffer, but I knew it was all part of the deal. “I know. I can’t promise you it won’t bother me to see you get sick, though.”
“And you wouldn’t be my David if it didn’t bother you. But just try not to get all worried over the changes to my body.”
“I’ll try.” I loved that she was pondering these things. It meant she was looking forward to having a child, after so many months of mixed feelings and emotions. “Hey, let me know when you’re ready to eat and I’ll make you breakfast.”
“That’d be nice. Maybe in a few minutes. Finish up yours first.”
Later that morning, with the air turning balmy and the sea calling my name, I put down my magazine and sat up. “Think I’ll go for a swim. The water looks too tempting.”
“Sounds good,” Beth said, glancing up from her book. “Just be careful out there. Don’t get swept out to sea.”
“I won’t, doll.” I caressed her cheek with the back of my finger. The color had returned to her face, and she’d eaten breakfast with no ill effects, so I assumed she was on the mend. “Perhaps you can join me when you’re up to it?”
“Hmm…maybe.”
As I ventured toward the beach, I turned back to find her beaming at me. She waved and blew me a kiss. My heart hammered in my chest. She’s quite a vision.
Our private beach was conveniently steps away from our bungalow, so—wanting to show off for my lady—I barreled down the powdery sand and dove into the shallow, warm water. I paddled out to a deeper area and then shifted so I could swim parallel to the shore. The buoyancy of the saltwater made it easy for me to glide across without effort. I knew I could easily lose myself in this swim, so I glanced up once in a while to make sure I didn’t drift too far out.
I’d started swimming a few years ago while on tour as a way to work out the kinks in my back from stress, sleeping on bus bunks, and playing guitar for hours. Every time we stayed in a hotel, I’d take advantage of the pool, which attracted increasingly larger crowds as the band grew in popularity. Fortunately, I’d been able to ignore the fans as I’d slip into my swim strokes.
I was in that same bubble now, when all of a sudden I sensed someone behind me. Whoever it was, felt the need to tug on my swim trunks. What the heck? Annoyed, thinking a crazed fan had spotted me out here, I whipped around to find…
“Oh, thank heavens, it’s you.” I breathed. There in front of me, with a big cheesy grin on her face, was Beth, treading water. “You must be feeling better?”
“Back to normal. Told you it was nothing.” She circled her arms around my neck and curled her long, slender legs around my waist. I wasn’t touching bottom, so I moved closer to shore so I could stand up and support her.
“Beth…” I whispered into her hair as I pulled her flush against me. My breathing stalled.
“I was hoping you could take a break.”
“Is it ever a question?” I asked, before kissing her forehead. “Come on, let’s get back to the room.”
She had a glint in her eye. “You know, our beach is private. Why go inside?”
My stomach spasmed. What was this woman trying to do to me? I was putty in her hands, but I wasn’t sure about this. It seemed too risky. “Beth,” I said, swallowing hard. “Someone could see us.”
She put her finger to my lips and “shushed” me, just before pressing her lips to mine. “We’re on vacation. Live a little.”
Leaving my self-control somewhere out in the ocean, I indulged my wife. It wasn’t until we were heading up to the house for a shower that I regretted our impulsiveness. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a man with a camera, not ten feet away. Oh no, how long has he been there?
Beth saw me looking at the man, who was hiding behind a palm tree. “What’s wrong, David?”
“Shh! Get inside!” I whispered, and she scurried inside. Meanwhile I started approaching the photograp
her, but he fled before I reached him. “Hey! Don’t come back! This is private property!”
“David, what’s going on?” Beth was at my side. “Did that guy get our picture?”
I rubbed my palm down my face. “I don’t know.” I swore. “There’s no telling what he’s got on film.”
She touched my arm. “Oh, David. So what? It’s not like we were doing anything wrong. We’re married. He’s the one who should be ashamed, snapping photos like that.” She shrugged. “Oh well. It’ll be a great picture to show our child someday.”
I shot her a look. “Beth, this is no joke. Just wait until your mother sees us on the cover of a supermarket tabloid.”
“Hey, I’ll proudly be seen with you, enjoying some time away.” She laced her fingers through mine. “Let’s head inside and hose off this sand.”
When she started walking, I pulled her back and met her with a kiss. “I love you, Beth Somers. I hope we make a baby on this island.”
“I love you, David. And me, too.”
Over the next three days, Beth and I stayed close to our cottage, intent on avoiding more run-ins with the paps. She didn’t seem too rattled by the photographer capturing the two of us in a not-so-ideal situation, but I was beside myself. These ruthless photographers had no sense of propriety. It was one thing to hound me in London, but they had no right to disrupt our holiday and snap photos of Beth. If people started recognizing her as my wife, I feared she’d be harassed or stalked, and I couldn’t risk that.
For now, she was safe, and we remained in our baby-making cocoon. When we weren’t together, she was off reading, while I worked on a few songs. I wasn’t sure if they were representative of Vinyl Fog’s style, as both related to marriage and family. Not quite cutting edge post-punk. Perhaps useful for my future solo album, however.
Beth’s willingness to try for a baby lifted my spirits more than I think she knew. I yearned for the bond of a child with her, but I never wanted to pressure her before she’d come to terms with our loss. I figured the desire would come one day, because Beth wanted to be a parent just as much as I did. How it brightened my soul to see her looking forward to starting a family.