Destined (29 page)

I was still wearing my navy blue
cotton sundress, which had successfully gotten me back and forth to the Island.
It had little narrow straps and buttoned down the front, or unbuttoned down the
front, as I wished. Tonight it was open to the third button and when I crossed
my legs the skirt fell open halfway up my thigh.

I had pinned my hair up off my hot
neck and shoulders and it was starting to curl, damp from the humidity. A
little trickle of perspiration ran down into my cleavage and I shivered.

My eyes must have fluttered because
suddenly there he was, standing right in front of me. Once again, I had
forgotten how good-looking he was. Or, maybe he actually
was
getting more and more handsome all
the time, I don’t know, but it definitely seemed that way to me. The nice thing
was that he seemed to feel the same way about me.

“Sorry to be late,” Tony said, zooming
in to kiss me on the cheek. “Welcome home, traveler!”

He stood back a little and stared at
me with his dark eyes shining. He wore a vanilla short-sleeved linen shirt and
khaki shorts, with brown leather sandals on his feet.

“Don’t you look just…adorable!” Tony
gloated quietly, his face flushed. He gazed at me admiringly, particularly
interested in the third button area. I sat up a little straighter and
smiled
 
at him. His eyebrows rose
in appreciation.

Laurie came over just then to lead us
to our table. It was next to the window in the back on the Crescent Street
side, very private and quiet. I thanked her and she grinned at me, taking our
drink order and leaving a couple of menus on the table.

While we supposedly studied the menu,
we secretly watched each other. I found myself acutely aware of him. I knew
exactly how many centimeters away his fingers were from mine on the tabletop.
When he raised his eyes and caught me looking at him, he flashed a smile and
reached out to capture my hand and raise it to his lips. His full, soft,
wonderful lips. My attention was riveted and I forgot all about the serious
conversation I’d wanted to have. For just a minute or two. Oh, yes. And then it
all came flooding back to me and I remembered.

“What have you been doing since I left
town?” I asked casually, trying to get the conversation rolling along so I
could steer it in the desired direction.

“Oh, this and that,” he answered
absently, or perhaps evasively, as he read the menu. He put it down on the
table. “I’ve been working on a new project, an investment actually. I’ve been
on the run.”

“Oh?” I said, not very knowledgeable
about stocks or investments. Reflexively, I wondered whether he had actually
found a new girlfriend, rather than a new financial opportunity. Knowing that I
tend to be a little paranoid about such things, I pushed the thought out of my
mind.

“To your homecoming,” Tony held up his
cocktail, and I raised mine. We clinked, and drank. The hum of the busy
restaurant buzzed around us.

I glanced out of the window at the
view down Crescent Street to the east. The sky was now tinted a dark salmon
pink, and right between the buildings at the end of the street, the huge,
swollen moon was rising. It looked full and round and enormous, a deep red-gold
glowing disk that was just starting to show above the rooftops.

“Look!” I said to Tony. He turned
around and we both watched for a minute. People seated outside on the patio
were pointing at the sky, and turning their chairs to witness the moon’s
ascent. Our waiter came over and took our order. Tony chose a bottle of
Chardonnay to have with the main courses and I ordered the sautéed oysters
appetizer for us to share. He asked for refills on our cocktails, at a nod from
me when I polished off my second gin and tonic. I was starting to relax and
have a good time, so I figured a little more would be even merrier. It was
unfair of me to be so suspicious, I thought. Time to lighten up!

He seemed to be feeling more
comfortable too as the conversation started to flow along in an animated
fashion, the way it always did when we were discussing one of our common
interests. We discussed international politics passionately for a while. By the
time I had calmed down, our food and more drinks arrived.

We shared the plate of heavenly oysters,
dipping them into some kind of tangy brown sauce. I wondered privately if it
was true that they were an aphrodisiac. Squirming a little in my seat, I felt
the energy spark between us when our hands bumped or our eyes met. In answer to
his questions, I told Tony a little about my experiences on Nantucket. Then the
rest of our meal came, and the wine, and everything tasted marvelous. Tony told
a few silly jokes and I started to giggle.

I was feeling happy and quite
reckless. I even stopped wondering about whether or not to believe what he
said, and just reacted to it. I figured that since we had eaten a large meal it
would somewhat counteract the alcohol, and I still seemed to be able to
navigate between the tables in the restaurant without hitting anything.

When I went to the ladies’ room I saw
myself in the mirror:
 
eyes
glowing, cheeks flushed and a few little tendrils of curling hair escaping from
the loose pile pinned up on the crown of my head. I looked like I was ready for
trouble, or ready to make some!

When Laurie came over with the check
she gave me a funny look.

“Are you OK?” she whispered to me
behind her hand.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my eyes
wide.

“Emily! You’re smashed!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are!”

“OK, I am, a little. But it’s OK. I’m
not driving.”

“Don’t worry, Laurel, I’m going to
take her for a nice walk now. I’ll take care of her,” Tony said, signing the
credit card slip.

 
“You are?” I said, delighted. “Where?”

“I thought we should enjoy the
moonlight and go to visit your favorite meditation spot,” Tony said, taking my
arm and steering me toward the double doors.

“Good night! Have a fun evening!”
Laurie grinned and shook her finger at me warningly.

By now the moon had turned a rosy
yellow and risen up above the buildings. Their black shadows leaned out into
the streets toward the west. It was very bright outside, and the world was
covered by a thin veil of dark golden light.

There were people all over the place.
On the sidewalks, in the open windows of the buildings, on the steps and porches
and even on the rooftops. They were talking, laughing, fighting, playing
checkers, jiggling babies, strumming guitars, walking along with dazed eyes and
their arms entwined around one another, kissing. Cars passed and honked,
stopped, let people out or picked people up, and proceeded again. People dodged
between the cars to cross the streets, not using the crosswalks or waiting for
the lights to change. I could hear three or four different kinds of music
playing, coming from all directions.

It was still very hot and humid. Many
of the men were bare-chested or wearing sleeveless T-shirts. The women wore
loose cotton dresses and the girls wore little teeny tiny tube tops or
camisoles and cut-off jeans. Their breasts showed clearly beneath the skimpy tops
and their flat young midriffs featured pierced navels with shiny gold rings or
jewels. The sheen of sweat was on everyone. We reflected the golden moonlight
on our exposed bodies and our wet hot skin as the sound of African drums came
floating down the street and a car drove by with open windows, playing loud
Latin music on the radio.

Tony and I crossed Market to the far
corner by the medical building and walked down the sidewalk toward the park. It
was quieter over here, mostly professional offices that were closed at night.
The park itself was surrounded by more townhouses like the ones on Crescent,
and some cute Victorian and Federal era houses.

We walked in companionable silence
with our fingers linked, swinging our arms between us. I was definitely a little
drunk, probably more than a little, and I was practically skipping along full
of energy. The moon made dark splotchy shadows under the trees that lined the
sidewalk as we neared the gates, always open, and entered the park. We walked a
little way down the pebbled path and there it was, the fountain with the giant
carp.

“Oh mighty Poseidon!” Tony intoned,
dropping my hand to approach the statue with both of his raised to the sky. “We
come here to honor you tonight! And to thank you for revealing this beautiful
goddess to me right here in your holy temple!” he said, gesturing as though to
draw me to the attention of the fish, to whom he bowed.

“Well, your turn!” he said in a stage
whisper, beckoning.

“Oh mighty god of the sea, father of
Aphrodite the goddess of love, who was born on the crest of a wave from the
foam of your jism,” I called out in ringing tones, showing off my considerable
mythology expertise, “We honor you!” I bowed to the carp as well, with a very
deep curtsy.

“
Jism
?” Tony said, one eyebrow raised. “I
never heard that one!”

“Yes, of course, “ I said. “He
masturbated, and the goddess of love was born from the foam that resulted. You
know, full-grown and naked on the half-shell like in the painting. She didn’t
have an actual mother, she was born from magical semen.”

“Really!” he exclaimed, taking my
hands to help me rise from my curtsy, which had placed me in dangerously close
proximity to the ground. I staggered and clutched at him to steady myself. He
put his arm behind me to help, then scooped me up tightly for one of his long,
thorough kisses.

A minute or a month later, I couldn’t
have told you which, we were gaily strolling through the deserted park again,
heading further off down the path past the fountain. I felt giddy and daring.
The little park was beautiful in the moonlight, secret and private. I breathed
in the moist air, scented by some sweet night-blooming flower, and felt a
sweeping rush of pure happiness. The playgound and tennis courts were over this
way. I found a swing and sat on it, swaying back and forth, enjoying the
breeze.

Tony picked up some tennis balls and
started to juggle them, throwing first one then the next up in the air,
catching them carefully when they fell. He was slow, but really pretty good at
it. Just another in the series of surprises for me about this man, who had
turned out to be so different from my first impression. It was a lesson in the
danger of jumping to conclusions. I might have missed all this, had I gone with
my first instincts.

He seemed as happy as I was, maybe not
quite as inebriated but enjoying himself immensely. There was a big grin on his
face as he concentrated on the tennis balls, showing off for me.

“Where did you learn how to do that?”
I demanded to know.

“I taught myself,” he answered,
dodging to the left.

“Just one of your many natural
talents?”

“Exactly!” he said, dodging to the
right. “I keep telling you how wonderful I am, Emily! When are you finally
going to believe me?” He threw one of the balls over his shoulder and caught it
behind his back. I applauded, to his obvious delight.

“And how many of these amazing natural
talents do you have?” I asked.

“Oh, quite a lot of them!” Tony said,
catching all the balls in his hands, one at a time. He tossed them back into
the empty tennis court and came over to me where I sat on the swing.

“Shall I show you a few more?” he
asked, pulling me up from my seat. Not to kiss me again as I expected, but to
steer me further down the path.

I started to wonder what he was doing,
and where he was taking me. Down the garden path, it seemed, in more ways than
one. But the moonlight was gorgeous and I was full of excitement, so he
propelled me along.

On the other side of the tennis courts
there was a fragrant rose garden, but he marched me right through it and out
the gate onto the sidewalk of the street that ran along the back edge of the
park. This was where some old single-family homes had been lovingly restored
and painted interesting historically accurate colors. They had beautiful
gardens and little yards in the back, some with front porches featuring
swinging benches and rocking chairs. I had driven past here several times and
adored this street.

“Come on,” he said, pulling me along, “I
want to show you something.”

We walked briskly down the sidewalk
arm in arm, past gracious homes whose lighted windows showed cozy, comfortable
rooms where people were visible living their lives. One such scene showed us an
older man playing backgammon with a teenaged girl, another revealed a mother
with a pile of sewing in her lap, watching television with a group of children
tussling on the floor in front of her. As we approached a pretty plum-colored
Victorian I waited to see what would be spotlighted in this family’s windows.
The draperies were drawn shut, but I noticed that a cat had slipped underneath
them and was sitting in the front window looking out. It looked sweet, homey.
There was a For Sale sign on the lawn and I wondered where the cute kitty would
be moving to when his owners sold their home. A new-looking silver car was
parked in the driveway. It was a Prius, in fact. Ahoy there, I thought, another
ecologically aware fellow traveler! I glimpsed the license plate number and was
astonished to discover that I recognized it.