Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love
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But the night before he’d moved, he’d snuck into my house and we’d shyly and rather awkwardly made love–twice. So there was nothing he hadn’t seen before, although there hadn’t been a smear of blood on the upper swell of my breast last time I’d bared it for him. And the girls were bigger. I’d had a nice chest in high school, but sometime during my freshman year of college, my freshman fifteen had propelled me from a solid B–cup to a C or a D, depending on the bra manufacturer.
“Here.” He blotted the blood off with a warm, wet cloth then tried to look at the damage. “Andi, you have to move your head. I can’t see with it bent over.”
I lifted my chin. “Sorry. Just trying to see how bad it is.”
“Doesn’t look too bad. But the skin is broken unevenly. What did this?”
“Uh…” My mind raced trying to think of any plausible explanation, but I went with the truth. I’d heard somewhere you should never lie to your doctor. “Flogger.”
“Excuse me?”
“A leather whip.”
He blinked and I stared at him, trying not to blink back.
“Are you here with the Whipped crowd?”
I nodded. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess. When I was informed of the special theme this cruise was running, I did a little research into the kinds of injuries I might see.”
“Oh?”
“Whoever was whipping you didn’t know what he was doing. Next time, find a more experienced partner.” It looked like he wanted to say more, but his jaw clenched and he stayed silent.
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” I should’ve explained I wasn’t really with the Whipped crowd, but the words didn’t come out. Instead I kept looking at Jonah’s handsome face, remembering how much I’d loved this boy.
When his capable hands gently rubbed ointment and taped a soft gauze bandage over my cut, I practically slid off the table in a puddle. “Try to keep this dry for a day. No pool for you.”
“What about a shower?” God, the innocent question conjured images of him and me in the pool, alternating with the shower. Naked and wet.
“No shower tonight. Tomorrow, yes.” His mouth was inches away from my lips as he finished his taping. I could smell the clean scent of his skin and wanted to brush my hand across his smooth cheek. His jaw was square with only a hint of a beard. Jonah was one of those guys who’d take a month to grow a proper beard. I’d been crazy envious because he could go without shaving every day or two, whereas I needed grooming every day. Thank God for laser hair removal.
“Now what?” I whispered, knowing my nipples were at attention and, unless he was blind–and he wasn’t–he had to notice.
“Now we catch up,” he said, and headed over to the sink to wash his hands. “I have no other patients and my shift is over,” he glanced at his watch, “in ten minutes. If no one else comes in, you’ve got me all to yourself.” He smiled and sat next to me, and all the reasons I’d fallen for him as a teenager came rushing back. Jonah had a way of making a person feel like the most important person in the world; as if every word out of your mouth was gold and he was chief miner. He was probably an amazing doctor.
“So,” we said in unison, then laughed.
“Where do we start?” he asked. “It’s been a long time.”
“Twelve years,” I muttered. Then, “I didn’t know,” I blurted, “that you worked here. On this boat. As a doctor. KK set me up. Us. I wouldn’t put it past her to have paid off the idiot who lost control of the flogger. She–” I stopped talking and zipped my lips before this got any more embarrassing. Note to self: kill best friend later. If the nurse walked in she’d laugh about the passenger who made a fool of herself in front of the ship’s doctor. I comforted myself by assuming it was probably a daily occurrence. Hourly, more likely. Jonah was so good–looking and friendly, every female or gay male patient probably made a move.
“It’s okay,” he said.
“It is?”
“Yeah. It’s great to see you. What have you been up to?”
I opened my mouth to give the usual pretty BS about my demanding but satisfying job on the front lines of the fight for education reform in the country, but the truth slipped out. “Nothing,” I confessed. “I think I hate my job, and I haven’t been on a good date in a really long time, and now I’m on a fantasy cruise with people in collars.” My palms slapped my face. “Ohmigod. I can’t believe I said that. Ignore me. The sea air has messed with my brain cells. Life is good. Really.”
His large tanned hand peeled my smaller, paler one away from my face. “Andi? You don’t have to front for me. We’re friends, at least we used to be. Sounds like you’re at a crossroads.” He shrugged. “It happens to the best of us.”
I looked up at him, trusting in those wise brown eyes. “Yeah? What did you do at your crossroads? You’re a doctor, Jonah. You don’t have time for crossroads.”
“You’d be surprised.” But then he shut his mouth, as if reluctant to reveal any more of himself. He stood suddenly. “Jennifer,” he called back to the nurse, “I’m closing down early tonight. If we have any outbreaks, page me.” He looked back at me. “Have you toured the boat yet?” He grabbed my hand and tugged me to standing. “I’m giving you the grand tour.” There was a seductive look in his eyes that said the only tour he wanted to give me was of his cabin.
“I’d love to see more of the ship with you.”
“Right, it’s embarkation day. You’ve seen nothing.”
“I’ve seen the pool and my cabin,” I volunteered. “And the dining room, but it seems like they’re trying to keep us perverted Whipped passengers separated from the normal folk.”
“Wait here, I’ll change clothes and be back in five minutes.” He charged out, leaving me on a waiting room chair, but was as good as his word and was back in five minutes, out of his white uniform. I was surprised to admit I kind of missed white nautical jacket. It was a look I’d never expected to admire, but whoa momma, sign me up as a boat fan–girl.
“C’mon, let’s go.” He tugged me out of the clinic and kept hold of my hand, as if we were still juniors walking the halls in high school. The chemistry we’d always had sent little zings of desire from my hand up my arm and to all pleasure points in my body. He led me out through the hallways into the starry night, where a warm breeze brushed our skin.
He walked me past the pool I’d already seen to the other side of the ship, where an outdoor theater was hosting some sort of Cirque du Soleil type show. Jonah greeted the usher who let us creep by and stand in an aisle to watch the show.
For a long while we didn’t speak and watched the performers do their thing, which looked complicated and death–defying. “Ever had anyone fall?” I asked.
“Once,” he answered. “But I wasn’t working that week, so I didn’t get to treat the injury.”
“Did he die?”
“She, and no, but she’ll never perform again.”
“God. That’s awful.”
He shrugged. “It takes a certain kind of person to do those stunts in the first place. It’s a calculated risk every time they go out there.”
“True. I might need to reassess my own job. It may be a tad hypocritical lately, but I’ve never feared for my life. My integrity, yes, but not my life.”
He turned and tugged me out of the outdoor amphitheater. When we’d left the cheering crowd behind, he asked, “What do you do again?”
His question hurt. It reminded me that we’d lost all contact with each after our freshman year of college, and that he’d never stalked me on social media. One second on my Facebook page and you’d know what I did for a living. “I’m a public policy advocate for education reform, with a focus on minority populations.”
“Then you’re still a crusader.” He stared down at me as we walked the wide deck of the large vessel.
“I wish,” I said bitterly. “I think that’s what’s wrong lately. When I first started the job I wanted to get things done. Shake things up in D.
C., but not anymore.”
“You don’t want to shake things up anymore?” He asked curiously, and stopped walking to pull open a door to the main inside body of the ship. We entered a cavernous room that could’ve fooled me into thinking it was a shopping mall on dry land, complete with art gallery. It truly was a floating city. Most employees seemed to know Jonah, and I was impressed by how many he greeted by first name.
“Do you know everyone?” I asked, in awe of his memory.
He chuckled. “It’s a small town, and I’m the small town doc. I don’t just treat the passengers. The crew members are my patients also. When you’ve lived in it long enough, you get to know people. But you didn’t answer my question. Are your career goals still the same as they once were?”
“Yes, I still want to shake things up, but I’m disillusioned. Everyone talks a good talk, but it doesn’t feel like anything actually gets done. People write proposals and sometimes Congress actually sees them, but the kids who need change the most rarely see it.”
“Are you maybe being a bit hard on yourself? You’re talking about an entire nation of children. I’m sure you’ve done important work.”
“Yes, but, I don’t know…lately it just feels meaningless.”
We kept walking, and I tried to concentrate on his words and on the overload of shopping that surrounded us, but it was impossible. The store windows were a blur, and I made a mental note to return tomorrow, if I could ever find this place again. The ship was a maze of passages. Thank goodness they had maps hung in key locations.
“So what are you going to do to find meaning again?” he asked. It was one of the things I’d always loved about him. At first glance, he was this boy who had the looks and the brains to be a conceited jerk, but he wasn’t. Never had been. He took a genuine interest in other people and carried a cool confidence that made everyone want to be his friend.
“I don’t know. Go on a cruise?”
He laughed.
“What about you?” I asked. “You talked about being a doctor since middle school. I was so happy for you when you made it into the med program.” Jonah had worked his butt off senior year to apply for, and eventually get accepted at, a seven–year medical program. It squished the undergraduate and med school years together, making for a challenging college life but worth it when one graduated from med school at a much earlier age than most.
“Yeah. I’m a doctor,” he said and looked off into the distance.
“How’d the cruise ship thing happen?” she asked. “Was that the end goal?”
“No. The opportunity kind of fell into my lap at a good time and I grabbed it.”
“Oh?”
“I was practicing in a teaching hospital when something happened. Accusations were made. I didn’t do anything wrong, but I thought it best to get out while I could.”
“Onto a cruise ship.” I could tell he wasn’t sharing the whole story, but given the fact that we’d been apart for more than a decade, I couldn’t really pry.
“Onto a cruise ship,” he agreed. “Been here two years, and so far so good.”
“What’s it like living on the ocean?”
“Fun. On occasion I can choose to work a different ship to see different parts of the world. Mostly I’m in the Caribbean though.”
“But what about friends and family? Don’t your parents miss you? Or your wife?” I asked, unsubtly digging for his marital status.
“Not married. This job is better for single people. And yeah my parents miss me, but it’s no different than if I were living in a different city. We see each other on some holidays and they’ll come take a cruise one week a year.”
“Oh,” I said. The news he was single filled me with more glee than it should. Jonah was my first love in every sense of the word. I’d had other lovers and even been in love twice more, but never as intensely or as easily as my love with Jonah had been.
“Hey, check this out,” he said suddenly, and grabbed my hand to tug me to a giant carousel in the middle of the massive shopping space. “Let’s ride. If you feel up for it. The blood loss hasn’t gone to your head, right?”
I realized he was teasing me and barely had time to agree to ride before Jonah nodded at the employee working the ride and on we went. He found me a spot on a gorgeously painted white horse with a rainbow of roses curling down its mane. Instead of straddling the horse next to me, he remained standing, holding onto the pole and my thigh for balance. And we were off in a whirl. Laughter came easily, especially at my antics at having to ride side–saddle thanks to the short dress. At this time of night very few people were on the ride, only a few other adults seeking the missing pleasures of childhood.
When the ride ended, I jumped off and into Jonah’s waiting arms. The more time we spent together, the more I remembered how it had been between us. How great we’d been. Perhaps–a little voice in my head niggled–he was the reason I’d never gotten married. No man had ever lived up to my memories of Jonah. It’d be too easy to lean up and kiss him, too easy to rely on our shared history to make more of this moment than it was. Was he feeling the same confusion and burgeoning attraction that had been riding me since I saw him in the clinic?
And then I realized he thought I was on this ship as one of the role playing fans of Whipped. Even if I denied it, why would he believe it when all evidence on my chest pointed to the contrary? And there was probably some rule about cruise employees dating guests. Love Boat was a TV show from the eighties, not real life. After an awkward pause, I released my grip on his body and stepped back. “Where next?” I asked.
“To the upper deck,” he said, the moment gone. “The stars out there are amazing.”
“Okay,” I agreed. We strolled out to the spot he said was best for looking at stars. No handholding this time. It was like we both knew physical contact was okay when it meant nothing, but in the last half–hour something had changed. And yet nothing had changed. I’d loved this boy and never really stopped loving him. We’d broken up only because of his move across the country. With senior year and four more years of college on separate coasts, we’d listened to parental advice and made our farewells.
We’d remained in contact our senior year, but once college started we’d simply stopped emailing and calling. Now all the what–ifs came rushing back. What if his family hadn’t moved? What if I’d tried harder to keep in touch? But since we’d gone to different schools on different coasts, it had been too difficult to ever have long meaningful conversations, compounded by the fact that it had been nearly impossible to get Jonah on the phone. And so we’d simply stopped being Jonah and Andi. But I knew now that I’d never truly stopped loving him.
We walked out of a narrow corridor into the breezy night to stare up at the sky. The many lights of the boat interfered a bit with the view. I tried to act cool, like I hung out with my high school sweetheart all the time. But inside I was a shaking mess, and it took deep, concerted willpower not to jump into his arms and share every emotion coursing through my body. To hide my feelings, I feigned great interest in the dark sky. “I never know the constellations. It all looks like clusters to me. I can’t make out Oedipus’s sword or the bear’s tail.”
He laughed. “I’ve learned a bit about constellations since working here. It’s funny how, despite the modern equipment guiding this boat, a lot of the sailors on board think of themselves like Christopher Columbus sailing the world by the stars.” He wrapped an arm around me as he pointed out the various stars and their names.
I pressed back into his wide, strong chest. Jonah had always been athletic, and his body attested to the fact he still worked out. He smelled the way I remembered, and it was nearly my undoing. The temptation was too great to turn in his arms, burrow my mouth against his neck and not come up for air.
His lips brushed against my ear as he leaned low to point out more constellations. “That’s Orion’s Belt.” His upper right arm pressed against mine, and I obediently looked up, but there was nothing in the sk
y that competed with the way it felt to be wrapped up in Jonah’s arms again.
I shivered. “Are you cold?” He stepped back. “You must be, in that flimsy excuse for a dress, and I don’t have my jacket. Let’s go inside.”
Once inside, we smiled at each other, not sure where the night would take us. I knew where I wanted it to go, but I didn’t dare say it without some hint he felt the same.
“What now?” he asked. “Is there anything else you want to see?”
You, I thought, but kept it to myself. “You said this boat is like a small town. Is there a small town bar? One that’s for locals only?” I wanted to spend more time with him and none of the nighttime scenes we’d passed appealed. The ship’s nightclub had been transformed into a roaring twenties speakeasy. Not my scene. “Unless you have to work early tomorrow, and then I’ll understand if you want to call it a night.”
He glanced at his watch and I admired his wide, capable wrist. “I do have to work early tomorrow, and I’m on call tonight, but it doesn’t matter. I haven’t seen you in a long time. I have you in my house for the next five days and I’m not squandering it.”
A hint? Was he feeling the pull? A meaningful silence fell as we stared at each other, dancing around the truth, or at least being the first person to cop to it. Finally he cleared his throat. “There is a bar, but I’m not allowed to take you there. There’s a strict no fraternization policy for crew and guests,” he said. “I got away with it tonight, and if I’m questioned I’ll say you’re a friend from high school who surprised me.”
“All true,” I said.
“If we’re spotted frequently in each other’s company, it’s harder to explain.”
“So either we need to sneak around to see each other and put your job at risk or we have to ignore each other.”
“That about sums it up,” he said. “But screw it, I want to hang out with you.”
“Can I be honest? I don’t like either of those options, but if pressed, at gun point, I’d choose the sneaking one. It’s really good to see you again, Jonah. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed you until I saw you again.” I was possibly making a fool of myself, laying it all out on the line for him, but I suddenly didn’t care. He was the first man in a long time I wanted to get to know better. Maybe it was nostalgia talking, or maybe it was blood loss. Either way, I was up for sneaking around. However, it wasn’t my job on the line if we were caught. It was his choice to make.