Dream Keeper

by Gail McFarland

  His hands on her shoulders squeezed gently, urging her closer. “There is nothing in there that I want to eat,” he said, letting his voice go low and suggestive enough to make her blush. His green and gold-flecked eyes held hers, eroding self control. “Well,” his tongue touched her ear and her lashes fluttered low. “Maybe one thing…”

  “O-kay, that will get you sensuality points.” She slipped away from him and moved to the French doors. Opening them, she stepped out onto the stone patio and the view took her breath away. Staring out, she felt herself tremble. “I thought this hut looked familiar. How?” she finally asked. Turning to her husband, her face glowing in the reddened gold and indigo touched light, she asked again: “How did you do it? This is the same one, isn’t it?”

  When he nodded, she pushed her way off the patio and into the vegetation beyond. Stumbling on the slight loamy rise, she brushed her hands against her jeans and stepped forward. Dench stumbled behind her, but managed to stay on his feet as he followed.

  Sliding in her sandals, Rissa counted the dozen steps from the patio and then moved six steps to the left, skirting a large boulder. Counting again, she moved forward and extended her hands. Trying to read with her fingers, she ran her hands over the bark of the first tree she came to. “I found it,” she screamed. “I found it!”

  Behind her, Dench scooped her into his arms and held her close. “I knew you would.”

  In the four years they’d been married, the little tree had dug deep roots and weathered raging tropical storms, but right there on the trunk, they could see the heart Dench had carved the morning after they’d exchanged their vows: “R + D = 4 EVR”.

  “Still here, and so are we.” Reaching, she ran her fingers over the rough tree bark. “The tree grew, and so did we.”

  “So I got it right?”

  “Exactly right. Dench, I want forever with you. I always have.”

  “Me, too.” When she folded her hands into his, Dench closed his eyes and wished again: Perfection, that’s all I want. A perfect forever.

  It was fully dark, with the velvety sky painted with stars, when they climbed back onto their patio. Dropping onto a lounging chaise, Dench pulled Rissa with him.

  “Wait.” She scrambled away from him.

  Turning on lights as she went along, Rissa ran into the small kitchen, where she collected the fruit and cheese tray, adding water biscuits and hard dough bread to the wicker basket she found on the counter.

  “I think I need help,” she called. Rummaging, she found a tin of Jamaican cheese and another of pâté and added them to the basket.

  Joining her, Dench found knives, forks, and a large knife for the mammy apple they found resting on the counter. Tucking the large round melon under his arm, he gave the thick light brown skin a solid thump and smiled. “This one is going to be good, sounds heavy and ripe. Too bad we don’t get them back in Atlanta—love the taste, that sweet juiciness, like mangoes.”

  “And speaking of mangoes,” she held them up and licked her lips, anticipating their moist, rich taste. Leaning on the refrigerator door, she inclined her head toward the contents. “I see bottles of Red Stripe, Ting, and some ginger beer in here.”

  “We’re celebrating, let’s take the champagne.” He added the champagne and glasses to the basket.

  Back on the patio, she spread the food and handed the bottle of champagne to Dench. He untwisted the wire, aimed the bottle away from them, and popped the cork. Laughing, Rissa held the glasses while he poured.

  “Where did the candles come from?”

  Taking his glass from her hand, he smiled. “I told you I would always take care of you, and I didn’t want you sitting in the dark, so…” he swept an encompassing hand in front of her “…candlelight for you.”

  “Did I ever tell you that I love you?”

  He leaned close, his fingers stroking the back of her neck. “You might have mentioned it once or twice, but one more time wouldn’t hurt.”

  “I love you.”

  He kissed her and a tiny shiver rocked the hand holding his champagne when she kissed him back. Scooting closer, Rissa lifted her glass to his lips and took private delight in his mirroring her. Sharing cold champagne on a hot Jamaican night, they sat together and made a picnic, enjoying the food and each other.

  “Do you remember that other picnic? When you proposed to me?”

  “Never forget.” He nodded. “Asking you to marry me was a big deal.”

  The corners of her lips lifted. “You never had to ask me. You always knew I would. You proposed. You told me what you wanted for us, and I agreed.”

  “Leave it to a lawyer to break romance down to a contract.”

  Feeding sliced melon to her husband, Rissa watched him chew. “Did you really think we would make it this far?”

  “Always together.” He nodded and chewed.

  She dabbed a trickle of juice from the corner of his mouth. “Even when you found me under my desk?”

  “When you came out, I figured you came out for me.” His eyes, darkening with the night, searched hers. “You?”

  “I always knew that we deserved to make it.” Biting into sweet mango, Rissa sighed. “Delicious.” She bit the slice again, then shared it with Dench, laughing when he licked the juice from her fingers.

  Suddenly shy, she dropped her eyes. “I’ve put you through a lot lately, and I know it. I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t seem to stop.” When she looked up and into his eyes, the green and gold flecks that always charmed her swirled deep and warm. “As much as I love you, I couldn’t stop.”

  “What about now?”

  “If we never have children, if we adopt children, I just want us, Dench, perfect and whole forever, because I love you very much.”

  “I love you, too.” He leaned close, brushing his lips across her skin. “That’s the nicest apology I’ve ever heard.”

  They sat in long silence, sipping champagne. His sudden gasp made her look up to follow his pointing finger. Blue-white flashes of timeless fire, the shooting stars streaked the sky above them. Breathless, Rissa and Dench touched their glasses and closed their eyes. Making wishes, they sat together in hope. Dench recovered first. Opening his eyes, he looked over at her and watched her moving lips.

  Baby, Rissa wordlessly entreated the cosmos. Opening her eyes, the word lingered on her lips, so strong that she could almost taste it. She touched her glass to his again and waited for him to sip. “What did you wish for?”

  “A winning season.” He grinned.

  “Really?” Unconvinced, she poked his thigh with her finger. “Thought you said they looked good this year. Why would you waste a wish on them?” She poked him again.

  “Never hurts to have a little heavenly backup.” He caught her finger and held it. “I really wished that we would always be as happy as we are right now. You?”

  “That we would only get better with time,” she said softly. Dropping her eyes, looking at the finger he still held, she lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “I still think that a baby would make us more complete, maybe not better, but would complete our circle.”

  “We are complete, Rissa—want me to prove it? I could take another knife to that tree.”

  “The island ecosystem should be scared of you.” She giggled and pushed her hand deeper into his. “No, like I said, adoption is fine with me. Besides, I don’t want you to get thrown out of paradise for trying to prove your love.”

  “I would, you know.” Dench pulled his hand free to work a damp napkin over their sticky fingers. “In a heartbeat.”

  “Such a man, and I mean that in a good way.” Moving the remains of their meal to the small patio table, Rissa covered them with the cloth napkin they’d used. Climbing into Dench’s lap, she pressed her ear to his chest and listened. “I love your heartbeat.”

  Content, they lay curled together, watching the sky.

  Dench felt her fall asleep and let the cadence of her heart lull him. Another star shot across
the sky, its freefall touching his imagination as he drifted toward sleep. Baby. His hand stroked her arm. Pregnant, he wished.

  It was the sunrise that woke them. Dench stirred first, smiling when he found Rissa curled against him. He moved his leg and she sighed. Sliding an arm around her, he debated further movement, but hesitated when her lashes fluttered. Her eyes opened to find him and she sighed again.

  “Good morning.” He kept his voice low and she heard only the tenderness. “Sleep well?”

  “I slept with you.”

  “Out here.” He indicated their garden surroundings. “And to think, I promised your mother and your brother that I would keep a roof over your head.”

  She looked up and smiled. “This little patio has a roof.”

  Dench looked up. “That it does.” He shifted, moving her across his lap, and she giggled. “Anything special you want to do, today?”

  “Just be with you. I can do lazy, maybe the beach.” She shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Dude, the beach sounds good to me.”

  Rissa slipped from his lap and held out her hand for his. Walking back into the confines of their thatched hut, she squeezed his fingers. “Remember how small the bathroom was?”

  He grinned, remembering. “Want to see if we can still fit in the shower together?”

  “I’m game.” Snatching her shirt over her head, Rissa brushed her hair back from her face and unsnapped her jeans. She waited, looking over her shoulder, for Dench to unhook her bra. Holding her bra in place with both hands, she watched Dench lose his shirt. When he turned toward the bathroom, she cleared her throat and he stopped.

  “What?”

  “The pants, buddy. Lose the jeans.”

  “I will, if you will.”

  “We’ll do it together,” he said when she walked closer, still holding the bra. “On three…”

  He counted one and never got to two. She tossed the bra, dragged the pants down his legs and ran for the bathroom. By the time he caught her, Rissa was laughing beneath the massaging spray of water.

  “You cheated,” he growled near her ear, making her laugh again.

  “Aww, don’t be a sore loser.” Indolent as a cat, she turned her back to him and leaned with her hands against the shower walls. His wet and slippery hands touched her and she gasped. When he braced her, she laughed again. “I thought you wanted the beach.”

  “We’ll be here for a week, and that beach has been there for how many thousands of years?”

  “Oh, well, in that case, we have time.”

  “Lots of time.”

  The sudden coldness of the water sent them both howling out of the shower. Cold water slapped the heat out of all their intentions and they had no choice but to laugh about it all the way to West End Road and Seven Mile Beach.

  * * *

  West End Road was their destination on most of the days of their retreat. Leading to beach coves, stores, and restaurants, the treasures they found almost made the cold showers bearable.

  “Somehow, I forgot about the water doing that, getting cold like that,” Rissa said again, “and it’s done it every day this week.”

  “But it’s been a good week, right?”

  “A really good week. I’m glad we took this time together.”

  “Me, too. Tell me again why we’re walking today?” Dench squinted behind his glasses and pulled his cap lower.

  “Because today is our last day here and I just want us to soak up as much of this as we can.” Rissa opened her guidebook and traced a line with her finger before stuffing it into her tote bag. “Besides, Rick’s Café is close and I want to see what you and AJ thought was so grand.”

  “You know we only wound up there because he said it was my last night as a bachelor.”

  “Uh-huh.” She pushed her shades firmly over her eyes, gave her short denim skirt a tug and headed down the road. “South is this way.”

  Mumbling, he followed, making her grin.

  “Come on, baby, you said you wanted the fish escovitch, and cold ginger beer sounds good to me. Maybe with rice and peas?”

  Dench brightened with the promise of good food and he picked up his pace to walk beside her. “It’s been a minute since the last time I saw Rick’s.”

  “Right. I seem to remember standing on top of a cliff hoping you would survive so that I could get married the next day.”

  “It was AJ’s idea,” Dench tried.

  “Lame.”

  “Your brother said that it was the last free thing you would ever let me do, if I married you.”

  “Oh, no, he didn’t.” Mouth open, Rissa stopped on the side of the road and stared. “Yes, he did. I know my brother. And you believed him?” Dench shrugged and she made a face. “You did.”

  “Come on, Rissa.” He took her hand and waited for her to give in. Walking together, their joined hands swinging between them, he grinned at the memory. “Jumping off that cliff was, like, the freest, coolest thing I’ve ever done. Hitting that cold water, feeling it move over you after all that air…dude, I can’t even explain it.”

  “Really?”

  “For sure.”

  She looked at him, then focused on the road before them. “Would you ever do it again?”

  “Definitely.”

  “With me?” She held her breath when he stopped suddenly and turned to look at her.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I haven’t been jumping off all kinds of cliffs in the last few months.” He pulled off his sunglasses and raised his eyebrows. “Metaphorically speaking,” she amended.

  “Forty feet off a cliff, Rissa?”

  “With you, Dench.” She pulled off her glasses and tried to stare him down. When he dropped his gaze and shook his head, she grinned. “It’ll be great,” she promised. “You’ll see.”

  “I guess I’ll have to, won’t I?” He didn’t look entirely happy about it.

  Crossing the road to Rick’s, hearing the music and the crowd, watching people dance their way in and out of the Jamaican landmark, Rissa felt her stomach quiver and decided to keep it to herself. Stepping onto the stone stairs, her first impressions of Rick’s Café were of music and endless party. Bright colors, water, wood, stone, and happy people were all around, and their pleasure in the moment was contagious.

  An arm draped around her shoulders, Dench guided them through the crowd. Looking around, his smile went a little crooked. “Hard to believe that most of the original place was lost back in the 2003 hurricane season.”

  “It looks exactly like it did the night you and AJ took your jump.” Rissa hoped her voice wasn’t shaking because it was taking an act of supreme will to keep her hand steady in Dench’s.

  Heading for the jump site, checking their bags and stepping out of her skirt, Rissa kept a grin on her face. When she heard a man in the crowd yell, she turned to see him waving and pointing at her. “Do we know him?”

  Before Dench could answer, the man jumped to a table top and yelled again. “A girl is taking the jump! The babe in red is going off the cliff!”

  “Guess that would be you,” Dench grinned, checking out her little red bikini.

  “With all the noise he’s making, I guess I have to do it now.” She plucked at the gold chain circling her waist and made a face. “At least he called me a babe.”

  Holding her hand, Dench looked down at her. “Rissa, you don’t have to do this…”

  A crowd pushed close, following and urging them toward the jump site, and Rissa heard the questions, the cheers, and the shouts of encouragement. Three men climbed onto a stone wall and hooted their approval, and she tried to ignore them, even as she saw the fear on one woman’s face. A stranger’s hand touched her bare shoulder and she turned to face envy in the eyes of a deeply tanned blonde who shouted, “You go, girl!”

  And at her side, Dench remained solid. “Rissa, you don’t have to do this…”

  “Oh, yes I do. You know good and well that this jump is listed as one of those ‘On
e Thousand Things You Have to Do Before You Die’ things, and I’m doing it with you.” She stopped walking and looked up at him, determination in her eyes. “I told you, I’m okay about not having a baby now. I can do adoption, but I’m not going to let your memories of the most exciting thing you’ve ever done not include me.”

  His hands went to her face and his crooked grin sealed them in a world of their own. “You know I love you like a fat kid loves cake, and there is no eternity for me without you.” He kissed her and the crowd behind them roared approval. When she turned and jerked her thumb up, the chanting got louder.

  “Let’s do this.” Climbing to the cliff ledge, Rissa took a deep breath and squeezed Dench’s fingers when she looked down at the water. Oh Lord, that’s a long way down…“Together?”

  “Together, on…” He almost said, ‘three,’ but shook his head. “Look who I’m about to try to count with. Go!”

  Still holding his hand, she went gracefully off the ledge with him. The sound of the crowd was replaced by the hissing rip of unbordered air as they fell. She lost track of her heartbeat and knew only the pledge of his grip on her fingers.

  Falling almost forty feet in the sheer whine of air, so far above the ocean, trusting him and their joined hands was everything. Falling into nothing, then timeless thrashing waters, risk was everything. Falling into nothing, with calm sky above and nervous water below with Dench Traylor was the easiest and scariest thing Rissa had ever done.

  Hitting the water was like the kiss before heartbreak, hard, shattering, and sudden. Cold moving surf, sudden and incontrovertible, wrenched them apart and stole her breath. The wave that hit her shoved her deep and had her struggling for air. Surfacing, Dench found her easily and pulled her to him, kissing her hungrily. Breathless and gasping, recovering from the jump and his kiss, Rissa pushed hard and slapped water at him.

  “You almost killed me!”

  “Hey, it was your idea!” Treading against the waves, water glistening in shining beads on his richly sun-darkened shoulders, Dench laughed and Rissa couldn’t resist.