“The class starts in 15 minutes, time to go, Manny’s waiting.”
She grabbed the heavily laden trays and was gone.
In the back ground the music played on. I took the last water from the cooler and handed it to Michael. He took it and propped it up between his knees so that he could open in without breaking our connection, clever boy. He took a long drink and handed the bottle to me. I followed his example and took a large swig. As I drank, I caught the flavor of him, a mild mixture of masculine musk and wild honeysuckle – a heady combination. The scent gave me an unexpected thrill. I passed the bottle back to him and watched as he took another large swallow. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his mouth thrilling to the thought that his lips were where mine had been. I knew I shouldn’t be doing that and that I’d be pissed off with myself if I didn’t stop with the school girl fantasy crap. I guess I wasn’t all that worried about my own wrath, because fear of punishment didn’t exist at that point in time. He held the bottle to his mouth for a brief moment before he took a drink; I noticed the action but just stored it away with the other stuff I wanted to examine more closely when the time presented.
I’m a slow reader – a slow reader of people on a moment to moment basis, I miss things on the first go around. And, no, I’m not dimwitted. Nature gave me a coping mechanism; I can revisit events in my life to look at again and again or to ‘reread’ and understand. Because I lack instant perception, I am grateful to be able to take and set aside snapshots of moments that I can recall when I need to understand more completely.
After about ten minutes I said regrettably.
“I’m going to have to answer the call of nature pretty soon, even though I’m uninterested in moving. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I got up to go and hesitated as I felt Michael increase the pressure by taking a tighter hold on my finger.
We both watched as I pried our fingers apart. As soon as the connection was severed, I made for the stateroom and the bathroom with speed and determination. Once through with my business and washing my hands, I decided to brush my teeth and to run a comb through my hair. The whole process took no more than 10 minutes.
When I returned, Michael was standing at the rail of the balcony and held up his right hand to reclaim the connection. It was as natural as our “in sync” breathing. I smiled, hooked his pinkie and didn’t say a word. The sun was nice, warm but not hot. The air was soft and smelled clean and delicious. We stood at the rail with our pinkies joined until the music ended.
My stomach growled. I looked at my watch…damn, no watch.
“Do you know what time it is?” I asked, as I covered my stomach with my right hand – an attempt to insulate the sound.
Michael looked up at the sky and said, “It’s 12:30 in the afternoon.” Again, clever boy.
“I’m hungry.” I whispered, “How about you?”
“I could eat.” He echoed my short sentences.
“Room service, then?” I asked.
“Ok, sandwiches?”
I turned away to go make the call. The action put stress on our connection; I released the tension by stepping back. I looked up at him.
“Oh, do you want to come with me?” I half joked.
To sweeten the pot, I said, “There might be fruit inside.”
Michael winked and said, “Ok.” That would prove interesting.
We walked through the slider single file, holding hands like children and I didn’t care. It was a fun game and I couldn’t deny the spine-tingling connection. We stood while I pushed the buttons on the phone and perused the lunch menu. Michael took an interest when he saw the menu. He pointed to things and I simply ordered what he pointed at.
“30 minutes.” I said.
Looking around the room; I was thinking about the fruit. Michael was sitting on the end of my bed with the fruit bowl in his lap. I grabbed the lone banana from the bowl.
My blood sugar was getting very low; I was serious and thinking fast; I would have to peel the banana with my teeth. Michael caught me before I could put it in my mouth. He made sure I had a good grip on the banana and then he peeled it for me with his free hand. During the process we had to adjust the pressure to account and allow for the other but for the most part, it was kind of like dancing. I laughed. The banana was perfect and raised my blood sugar while we waited for lunch.
I finished the banana and was done with the room; I needed to be out on the balcony. Michael finished his apple, discarded the core and followed me out. The table was ready to receive the lunch and so were we. We sat together, watched the ocean, breathed in unison and experienced the rightness of those perfect moments.
When the room service staff rapped on the door, we had to make some decisions fast. Well, ok, I had to make some decisions fast. I decided that I’d better move.
“Michael, I’m going to get the door, would you please choose some music to have with lunch?”
We dropped the physical connection and took action. In a matter of minutes I thanked and tipped the room service staff. I grabbed Pinky on my way back to the balcony. I was a bit keyed up over the blood sugar thing so, a bowl before lunch was just what the doctor ordered. Michael chose classical music. I said, “Green?” He took the pipe and we enjoyed the ritual and then our lunch.
After lunch, we cleared the dishes to the hall. We moved the table and chairs into the shade, reconnected, sighed, synchronized our breathing and allowed the ambiance to influence and nurture. All my senses were heightened and completely relaxed at the same time. The music ended far too soon.
“I was thinking of dinner on my balcony at 7:00? You could wear the blue dress again.” He offered.
“Are you wearing the tux? I checked to see if we were still on the same wavelength.
“Sure, a repeat of last night only we’ll be awake for the dancing. Prepare yourself; I’m going to my room to take a nap so I’ll be well rested. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
We made eye contact for a brief second and then he was gone.
Looking at the chaise lounge, I made a decision to nap on my balcony and went inside for a pillow. I stretched out, sighed, and closed my eyes. The little events of the day were roaming around in my head but sleep didn’t take me. I don’t know how much time went by before I gave it up, sat up, and put my head in my hands. Time was moving at a strange pace for some reason. I felt antsy and nervous and I wanted to cry. I don’t cry because crying turns my face into a big red puffed up mess.
As I sat there trying to figure out my problem, Michael stood in front of me.
“It’s happening to me, too; I think I know how to fix it.”
His voice had a tone that scared me, like he was scared.
“Come with me, I want to see something.”
He led the way. I followed him through the skinny door, through his slider, and into his stateroom. The two small beds were pushed together.
“Take the side near the slider.”
He gestured to the side he meant. Without hesitation or question, I did as he said. He took the other side, hooking our pinkies as soon as proximity allowed. I felt it immediately and so did he; the calm was unbelievably comforting. That single touch put everything right again. I closed my eyes and I felt the smile spread across my face, content. Just before I dosed, I heard his soft snore, listened for just a moment and then released my hold on consciousness.
I woke up after only one sleep cycle, about an hour and a half. I could feel Michael on my left, still snoring and still gripping my pinkie. I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. He’d moved onto his side. I needed to pee