16.
Rich
I awake with a headache and no idea where I am when my eyes first open. But then I see her beside me and it all comes rushing back—the reef, the boat ride with Pace, dinner, drinking, dancing, the walk back to our villas, Becca pulling me into her room, our clothes coming off…
I lie there for a while, not moving a muscle as Becca sleeps peacefully next to me, my gaze turned to the ceiling as I chew on all that has happened in the short time I’ve been here. Had it really only been forty-eight hours? Everything was moving much faster than I could have ever anticipated. Well, that was how things tended to happen in this crazy life. One minute you were sitting on a plane, minding your own business, not suspecting a thing. The next thing you knew, your life had turned on a dime and you were waking up no longer anywhere near where you thought you’d be.
Exactly how had I gotten here? It all seemed so convoluted, and yet so very simple. From meeting Becca to going to dinner together to waking up next to her, every step of this story of ours had been no more difficult than following after each new opportunity as it arose. That was the strangest part of all of this. It was also the reason why I didn’t regret what had happened in the slightest—this entire time, not once had I felt as if I were doing anything other than what I truly wanted. It was like the universe, in its infinite wisdom, had known exactly where I needed to go, and all I had had to do was follow its clearly labeled signposts.
I glance over at Becca. Her eyelids are twitching though her breathing is deep and even. Dreaming. It’s the first time I’ve really gotten the opportunity to observe her with no fear that she’ll catch me looking. Like a flower blossoming, she grows more beautiful the longer I take her in—that cute button nose; those adorable ears like soft, pink petals; those full lips calling me to kiss them; that rosy skin glowing even now as if there were a light behind her cheeks.
When did you turn into such a romantic sap, Richie? This isn’t like you. At all.
It’s a fair point I’m not sure how to address. I’d always been good with the ladies, though not because I was soft with them. But with Becca, all I wanted to do was just hold her tenderly, to shower her with kisses, to do whatever it took, whatever I could, to protect her from the evils of this world. Wow. This place really has done a number on you, kid.
Watching her, it’s not long before I begin to grow sleepy again. Impossible not to, lying next to her. I was so perfectly content, so utterly relaxed.
I close my eyes as I gently slide my arm under Becca’s shoulders and pull her to me. She sighs and drapes her leg over my thighs, her head snuggling into my chest. I breathe deep, soaking my senses in her heavenly womanly aroma, and let the warmth of the sheets envelope me once more.
***
When I come to sometime later, Becca is nowhere to be found. In her place is a hastily written note on a piece of resort stationery. Went for a walk on the beach. Be back soon.
My mouth as dry as can be, I push myself up from the bed and stumble into the bathroom, whereupon I down three large glasses of water.
Returning to bed, I settle in with my back against the headboard and the covers drawn up over my knees. My stomach is complaining something fierce. I contemplate ordering room service while I wait for Becca. But maybe it was better not to wait. Who knew when she’d be back? Then too, maybe she was having second thoughts about what had happened. If this were the case, she’d probably appreciate me not being here upon her return.
On the back of Becca’s note I scribble my own. Went to breakfast. If you want to join, you know where to find me.
I pull on my trunks from the night before, the fabric stiff with salt. Stepping into my sandals, I slip out the front door. In the sunlight, I take a moment to yawn and stretch out my stiff limbs. A maid walks by, her eyes glued to my chest. I wave and she looks quickly away, her cheeks reddening as she hurries off.
Back in my room, I change quickly, tossing on a fresh pair of swim trunks and a clean shirt. Key in pocket, I head to the garden. As I approach, I begin to hear the sounds of people talking cheerfully over their breakfasts.
It’s early enough yet that the garden is only half-full. Loading up my plate with bacon and eggs and sausage and pancakes and toast and a muffin and a bagel and, of course, a large assortment of tropical fruit, I thank the chef and head over to our table in the far corner of the dining area.
With the day only having just begun, several resort employees are still cleaning up from the night before. To the east, the sun is just coming up over the mountains. The ground around me is strewn with streamers, dirty plates and discarded plastic cups. Sitting back in my chair, my arms folded behind my head, I take in a lungful of fresh, tropical air. My eyes opening, I see the waiter, the same waiter who had recommended Pace to me, standing over me. He’s holding a pitcher of ice water and a steaming pot of coffee.
“Coffee?” he asks with a smile, moving to fill my mug before I even have a chance to answer.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the mug as soon as it’s filled and taking a sip. I sigh as the warm liquid slides down my throat. “Damn, that’s good.”
“It’s from the island itself,” the waiter says, topping me off. “Roasted right here in-house.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Glancing around the garden, the waiter leans down. When he next speaks, his voice is low, conspiratorial. “Listen,” he begins, “I just have to ask. Are you…” He trails off, unable to finish his question. Shaking his head, he straightens. “You know what? Never mind. Enjoy your breakfast, buddy. Let me know if you need anything.”
Before I can say a word, he moves off towards another couple who has just entered the garden. I watch as he leads them to a table. Helping the woman into her seat, his gaze ventures back at me.
Hmm, you don’t think he…
No. How could he? You look nothing like yourself.
Telling myself that I’m worrying for nothing, I set to eating, thinking now of how to spend the day. In less than five minutes, I’ve scarfed down my first plate. I’m hungrier than usual thanks to all the activity yesterday. I get up and go get a second, piling it just as high as the first. This afternoon I would need to go for another long run. Even though it was the offseason, I couldn’t let myself go that much. I had learned that lesson a long time ago, the summer after my first year in the league. Training camp was hell on earth if one didn’t take care of himself. Not that I was even sure I was going back.
Halfway through my second plate, the waiter returns to refill my coffee. As before, I can see the hesitation in his eyes as he tops off my mug. His mouth opens. Thinking better of it, he turns away. He takes a step only to turn back. Drawing in a deep breath, he looks me straight in the eye, his mind made up.
“Okay,” he says, his voice a whisper despite no one being within fifteen feet of us. “I just have to ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Are you Rich Anderson?”
“Rich Anderson. You think I’m Rich Anderson?” I scoff. Even to my ears, it sounds unconvincing.
“I do. So are you?”
“I…” Should I lie? Or would he see right through that?
“I am,” I say, blowing out a big breath of air. I smile sheepishly. “That’s me.”
“Huh,” he says, tapping his fingers against the coffee pot.
“Yep,” I say, popping a piece of bacon into my mouth as nonchalantly as I can. My fingers are trembling.
“You know,” the waiter says as he sets the coffee pot down on the table. “I wasn’t sure at first. I thought it the very first time I saw you but thought maybe I was just going crazy. After all, you don’t have your beard.”
“Nope. I shaved.”
“Anyways,” he continues. “I just had to ask because it’s been bothering me since you got here. I’m Cal, by the way.”
He holds out his hand. I take it and give it a firm shake.
“Nice to meet you, Cal. Rich.”
“Well, listen,” Cal continues. “Don’t worry about me telling anyone or anything like that. I have a pretty good guess as to why you’re here, which means you probably don’t want anyone to find out. I only recognized you because I’m such a big fan.”
“I really appreciate that, Cal. You’re right; I’d much rather no one find out.”
“Your secret is safe with me. Promise. Anyways,” he says. He picks up the coffee pot. “I’ll leave you be. Let me know if you need anything, Mr. Anderson.”
“Please, Cal. Call me Rich. And I can’t thank you enough for how much you’ve already done for me. Yesterday was absolutely amazing.”
“Anytime, bud,” Cal says, flashing me a smile of pearly white teeth. “As I said, if there’s anything you need at all, you just let me know. Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll be seeing you.”
Turning, Cal quickly sets off across the garden. Two tables away, he stops.
“Actually, there was one more thing,” he says, ambling back over. “I…uhh…I just wanted to…” He seems unsure as to how to proceed. Smiling, I wait patiently for him to continue. “Okay,” he goes on, grinning and blushing. “Might as well spit it out. I just wanted to say that I don’t believe any of those stories. As far as I can tell, you seem like a good guy. That woman...your ex…all those bad things she’s telling everyone…I always thought something was off about it. And now, having met you…well, I just don’t think you’d do something like that.”
“I…well, Cal…I, umm...I appreciate that,” I murmur.
“How are you dealing with it, by the way?”
“Honestly?” I sigh, suddenly aching to get everything off of my chest. Though I hadn’t been thinking much about it these last two days preoccupied as I’d been with Becca, it was clear that it was still heavy on the back of my mind. “Not so well.”
“I bet. I had a woman say the same sorts of things about me once. Of course, none of it was true. The worst part was I couldn’t figure out why she kept claiming it. It ended up really messing with me for a while. At least until I realized that it wasn’t about me. It was about her. It was a way to protect herself and her ego because she just couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to be with her.”
As Cal is talking, out of the corner of my eye I see Becca enter the far end of the garden. Noticing the way I stiffen, Cal glances over his shoulder, his gaze following mine. Spotting Becca, he looks back at me with a knowing smile.
“Anyways,” he says. “Enough about that. I’ll leave you be now. Just hang in there, Rich. If you need someone to talk to, you come find me.”
“Thanks, Cal,” I say just as Becca reaches the table. She’s wearing a bikini top I haven’t seen before, a pink affair with blue orchids. Around her waist is tied a sarong. She looks as fresh as a meadow covered in dew, her cheeks radiant, her hair tied in a loose, damp bun atop her head.
As she drops into the seat opposite me, Cal gives me a hearty clap on the shoulder. Without another word, he fills Becca’s mug and moves off.
“Good morning,” Becca says, grinning as she reaches across the table and slips her hand into mine. “How are you?”
“Great,” I say, forcing a smile. I’m thinking about what Cal has just told me. A good point he’d made. I shouldn’t let the things Charlotte was spreading get to me. If anything, it said much more about her than it did about me. “You? How’d you sleep?”
“Fantastically,” she says, sipping her coffee. “I haven’t slept so well in a very long while.”
“Hmm, I wonder why…”
“Oh, I know why,” Becca says, blushing as she looks up at me through her lashes. “It’s the same reason you were passed out snoring this morning.”
“I can’t deny that last nights was one of the best sleeps of my life.”
We’re both grinning like idiots. Now that Becca was here, my conversation with Cal was quickly fading. What use worrying about such things when I had someone like her in front of me? As far as I should be concerned, what had happened before arriving here was behind me; now was the time to look forward, to continue on to the next big thing. Which, in this case, meant doing whatever I could to enjoy whatever time I had left with this gorgeous, perfect woman.
After a minute or two has passed spent staring into one another’s eyes, Becca’s stomach rumbles, snapping us out of our trance. Excusing herself, she wanders over to the buffet. I watch as she fills her plate, the chef’s face lighting up as she turns her smile upon him. The feeling inside of me is one of overwhelming, all-encompassing happiness. How foolish to have worried that Becca would regret our night together! As far as I could tell, there was no indication whatsoever that she had changed her mind.
Breakfast is quite pleasant, not that I’d expect it to be anything but. We chat about nothing and everything as Becca eats and I drink coffee. We don’t mention last night again, though I can tell we’re both thinking about it. In fact, it’s clear we’re both aglow with its memory. Neither one of us can stop smiling. And the more I glow, the more she glows, back and forth this going until the two of us are positively radiating with joy.
Soon the garden is bustling with vacationers, many already in their swimsuits, their skin glistening with freshly applied sunscreen. As ever, though we’re some of the first people here, we’re the last to leave. Finally, the sun already high in the sky, the day well underway, we push our chairs back from the table.
“Whew,” Becca says, folding her hands over her stomach. “Nothing like a big, long breakfast to start the day.”
“Agreed,” I say, leaning back in my chair. I’ve got a tropical cocktail in hand now, another piña colada. “I’ve never understood people who go on vacation and just have to do things, the kind who fill every minute of every day with activities. It’s like relaxation is just another to-do to check off of their lists. Don’t they do enough things at home? Don’t get me wrong; I love going out to the reef like we did yesterday, but one can’t do that every day. Sometimes one just needs to lie around and do nothing, you know?”
“Or have a three-hour breakfast.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m with you all the way. After yesterday’s excursion, I’m more than ready to just kick back and relax.”
“Me too.”
“So then…” Becca says, rising. She holds out a hand for me and I take it and let her pull me to my feet. “Shall we?”
We exit the garden arm in arm by the same path we came in on, by now only one or two other people still at tables. It’s so late that the chef has already begun setting up for lunch. We haven’t discussed where we’re going, but I have a feeling we both know. Just outside the breakfast garden, Becca stops and faces me. My fingers are still interlaced in hers. She smiles mischievously, her blue eyes sparkling in the bright sunshine.
“So,” she begins coyly, biting her lip and brushing back a strand of hair from her face. “What should we do?”
“Hmm,” I say. “I don’t kn—“
I’m cut off as Becca lunges forward, her lips pressing to mine.
“Sorry,” she says, giggling as she breaks away. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I found you at breakfast.”
“Understandable. I’ve been dream—“
I’m cut off a second time as Becca entwines her fingers in my hair and pulls my face down to hers. Our kiss is deeper this time. Wrapping my arms around her, I lift her from the ground and spin her in a slow circle.
“My place?” she whispers, pulling away and placing her mouth to my ear, her sultry voice sending goosebumps racing down my spine.
“Let’s,” I say, lowering her back to the ground. My hand tightening in hers, I pull her down the path towards our villas, the two of us breathless with excitement.