19.
Becca
I wake the next morning just as dawn is rising. Rich is still fast asleep beside me, his head heavy on my shoulder. The balcony door is open, a gentle breeze making the curtain sway, the leaves of a potted plant just inside the villa trembling.
My mind filled with memories of last night—of our dinner beneath the stars and our long, slow, sensual bath together and the love we made after—I slip out from beneath the sheets and pad across the villa to my suitcase, though not before planting a kiss on Rich’s cheek, his stubble tickling my lips.
After rummaging around in the semi-darkness for several minutes, I finally find an acceptable pair of shorts and t-shirt. The first shirt I pull out is one I can’t honestly say why I’ve brought with me. It’s Rob’s, a black short-sleeved shirt with the faded logo of a band he had once been in. Without thinking twice about it, I crumple it up and toss it into the trashcan. No, thank you. I was a free woman now.
You’re not free. You belong to Rich.
Slipping on a pair of sandals, I sneak out the back door and make my way down to the beach. Down on the sand, I find a decent enough spot and settle in to watch the surf as slowly but surely dawn comes upon me from behind. I’m not really thinking of anything. Instead, I’m just letting myself feel, letting myself bask in the happiness that has been wrapped around me all week like an old, favorite sweater.
As I’m sitting there, a white bird walks by, lifting its feet carefully with each step, its long beak pointed down to the sand. It’s right on the edge of the water, following the waves as they rush in and out. As it moves down the beach, I’m struck by the strangest, strongest urge to follow it. Deciding not to question my desire, I rise and fall in step behind.
And so I follow this white bird down the beach, feeling all the while like Alice following the White Rabbit. For twenty minutes, I trail along after it, watching as it pokes its long, yellow beak into the sand. Somewhere along our journey, it turns around. Giving my companion a wide berth so as not to scare him off, I follow him right back to the resort. Just as we reach our starting point, my newfound friend decides that it has had enough. With several powerful flaps of its tiny wings, it takes off, circling once over my head before angling inland. I watch it until it has disappeared over the tops of our villas.
It is then I notice Rich seated on my balcony. He’s watching me, coffee in hand, another steaming on the railing in front of him. Seeing me see him, he raises a hand in greeting.
Suddenly, the feeling of being completely and utterly alive, alive like I’ve never been, overwhelms me. It’s like I’ve entered a new and wonderful reality, a reality I can’t help but feel I was destined to end up in all along. This was love that I was feeling. Real, powerful, genuine, romantic love.
Careful, girl, I warn as I make my way up to Rich. This might be real love, but you still need to take it one day at a time. Besides, if this love is as true as you say, it’s not going anywhere, right?
Reaching him, I give Rich a kiss, my quick peck turning into something deeper as he entwines his hand in my hair and pulls me towards him, his touch enough to make me melt into his arms. Pulling me down onto his lap, we sit for a while and drink our coffee in silence. As if reading one another’s minds, when our cups are empty we get up and make our way out through the villa and to the path leading towards the dining area.
The resort is livelier than normal this morning. What day of the week was it? Saturday? Sunday? Whichever one it was, it was surely the day when the new vacationers arrived. I don’t recognize a single person in the breakfast area. A garden full of fresh, happy, not-yet-suntanned faces, all yearning to begin their vacations in paradise.
And what about me? When would I go home? It’s a question I haven’t really considered. My villa was booked for two weeks, which meant that my stay was already more than halfway over. The thing was…well, I wasn’t ready to think about what this meant. This dream of ours was just too lovely to consider the end of. What would happen when Rich and I went our separate ways? Could I really just walk away from all of this?
The question is almost enough to make me cry. I don’t want to think about it. But I know it’s something I was going to have to consider before too long. The reckless Becca in me was telling me to just say ‘screw it’ and go wherever Rich went. It wasn’t every day one found a love like this. Was that plausible though? What about my life back home? What about my friends? My apartment?
Maybe the question you should be asking is if there’s really anything worth going back to? Sure, Sophia was in Portland, but I already knew what she would say. She would tell me to chase what made me happy. Life is too short to compromise. I can hear her voice as clear as day in my head.
Of course, that isn’t the only voice in my ear as I move through the breakfast line, absentmindedly tossing fruit and eggs and sausage and bacon and biscuits onto my plate. There’s that rascally, little demon too, the one that was telling me that it was only me who felt this way, that for Rich this was just another typical romance, no more special than any other. There’s nothing special about you, that voice whispers, so why would Rich want to see you after this?
Thankfully, that voice is shut up when I reach the end of the line and find Rich waiting for me, a smile of pure, loving joy on his lips.
“So, my darling,” he says, “I have some bad news.” At his words, my heart skips a beat. What’s happening in my head must be obvious enough because he laughs as he strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. “Don’t worry, goofball. It’s nothing bad. I just forgot that I promised Cal last night I’d help him out with something today. I was supposed to meet him an hour ago but it seems he forgot too. I just saw him and he said he’d be back in a few minutes to collect me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So anyways, I’m probably going to be gone for a few hours, which means you’ll have the morning to yourself. You’ll finally be able to get away from me.”
“Thank goodness,” I say, rising up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “I’ve been wondering how I was going to get away. When will you be back?”
“Not sure. He didn’t tell me what he needed me for. I’m sure it won’t take too long though.”
“Okay…” I sigh and pop a piece of bacon into my mouth. “Just don’t be gone forever.”
“I won’t, I promise. Besides, a break will be good for you. I don’t want you to get tired of me just yet.”
“I don’t think I could ever get tired of you.”
Rich lets out a hearty laugh. “So you say now. Just wait until I start farting in front of you.”
We’re at our table now. Rich pulls out my chair and I drop into it. Somehow, on the walk over he has already managed to finish his food. Just then, Cal appears across the garden. Spotting us, he waves and walks on over.
“Hey, Rich,” he says, shaking Rich’s hand. “Hi, Becca.”
“Hi, Cal.”
“How are you?”
“Fantastic. I never got a chance to thank you for last night. I was a little sleepy when we returned.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m just glad you two lovebirds had a good time. Anyways…Rich, ready to head on out of here?”
“You bet. Alright, Becca,” Rich says, bending down and giving me a peck on the forehead. “I’ll see you later. If I don’t see you this afternoon, I’ll meet you in your room before dinner. We should be back by then, right Cal?”
“For sure. I doubt we’ll be gone more than two or three hours.”
“Have fun, boys. Don’t get too crazy.”
And with that, the two men disappear.
***
It’s strange being on my own. It’s the first time, I soon realize, since my very first day here. Even then Rich had already been in the picture, though I had been doing everything in my power to avoid him. I have no idea what to do with myself. For a while, I sit and munch on fruit in the garden, my mind wandering over the day ahead. Already, it was feeling like it was going to be interminably long without Rich by my side.
What to do? Anything I wanted, really. For example, I could go down to the beach again. Or I could get Pace to take me back out to the reef. Or I could just return to my room and sit and wait for Rich, though this idea struck me as somewhat pathetic.
In the end, I decide to spend the morning by the pool. It would be nice to do nothing, to simply sit quietly and watch the world go by. Plus, maybe it would finally give me a chance to really think things through.
Before leaving the buffet, I fill a plate with fresh fruit. I then return to my villa to put on a clean swimsuit. Back at the main pool, I choose a lounge chair set back some ways from the water. A large umbrella overhead keeps the relentless sun at bay. No sooner have I settled in, a book on my lap, than a waiter appears.
“Would you like a drink, ma’am?”
I order a piña colada and lie back on my chair. Within a minute, the waiter reappears with my drink. Thanking him, I open up my book, prop it on my raised knees, and fold an arm behind my head.
I try to read but my mind just won’t focus. Evidently, it was aching to work some things out. It was that time, it seemed. Finally, after having reread the same paragraph several times without comprehending it, I close my book and set it on the ground beside me. My piña colada is almost finished. The waiter, who is standing off to one side of the pool in the shade of a palm tree, noticing this, tilts his head towards me. I nod. Flashing me a thumbs up, he sets off to get me another.
There are so many things I need to address I’m not sure where to start. My job, my mother, my ex, or Rich? Maybe I should just start with what I wanted. So what was it that I wanted? Happiness, clearly. But what did happiness mean?
Fresh drink now in hand, I close my eyes and conjure up the best image I can of it. A fulfilling job. A dog. Maybe a house, and a kid or two down the road. And Rich. Of all of these things, Rich was the most solid. My heart was telling me there was no going forward without him.
My thoughts turn to the approaching end of my trip. Did it really have to end? What would happen if I were to extend my stay? It would be expensive, but if it meant I could spend even one more day with him…wouldn’t that be worth it?
Somehow my second piña colada is just about gone now too. Whew boy were these strong! I can already feel the alcohol going to my head. I force myself sip more slowly. I was going to need to be careful else I was going to be hammered by noon.
I return to my thoughts of finding a way to stay near Rich. Now I’m contemplating the logistics of it all. What if I were to move away from home? A strange thought. I had grown up in Portland, had lived my entire life there, in fact. I couldn’t really imagine living anywhere else. Would it be so bad, though? Life was pretty much the same everywhere, at least it seemed to me. Just normal people doing their best to get by. Ordinary people living ordinary lives, loving, laughing, working, and growing. All that really mattered was who you spent it with.
My second piña colada finished, I take a quick dip in the pool. It’s still early enough that I’m only one of three people here. The other two are an older couple, both passed out beneath one massive umbrella. As I stand there in the water, my knees bent so that my shoulders stay submerged, I watch them sleep. Seeing them, I can’t help but think of Rich and me. The old man has his hand on his wife’s lap, her hand on top of his. I didn’t doubt that if I were to talk to them, they would gleefully tell me how happy they had been being together for the last thirty years. See? That was exactly the sort of thing I wanted.
A third piña colada is waiting for me upon my return to my lounge chair. Glancing around, I spot the waiter. Smiling, he gives me a small salute.
My mind is a bit fuzzy now, my thinking no longer so directed. Instead, a myriad thoughts are marching through my half-drunk brain. After watching the procession for a while, I pick out one thought in particular. Work. What was I going to do about my career? It didn’t sound appealing in the slightest to go back to what I had been doing. I hated working for other people, especially when it meant using my skills to create things I didn’t believe in. But how to work for myself? And how to do that while doing something meaningful? The last thing I wanted was to create more meaningless advertisements for more meaningless products that people didn’t need.
A hummingbird flashes by, distracting me for a moment. The ground around the pool is shimmering now in the heat. Beyond the tinkle of the waterfall at the far end of the pool I can just make out the rumble of the ocean. Were there sharks in there? What was it like at the bottom? What if there were a civilization of people thirty thousand feet down that we humans hadn’t discovered yet? How wild would that be? I could just imagine a mermaid Becca relaxing at a resort just like this one, only the pool she was sitting by full of air. Her life, too, had just fallen apart. She was drunk just like me, her poison of choice whatever coral or sea sponge concoction they made down there.
I giggle, my giggle quickly turning into a burp which just as quickly turns into a hiccup. I’m growing drowsy now. The heat and the alcohol are lulling me to sleep. My eyes close. Half-formed images swim through my mind. A shark on a reef, Portland, Rich, dinner on the water, Cal, Rob, Sophia back home, my mother, hula dancers, a buffet of tropical fruit, a mermaid Becca dancing in the glow of some bioluminescent fish…
I awaken several hours later, my mouth dry. Instinctively, I reach out for Rich, only to find he’s not there beside me. I open my eyes, blinking several times in the bright daylight. Oh, right. I was by the pool. Of course.
It’s crowded now, every chair around me filled with people talking and laughing, drinking and relaxing. I’m the only one here by myself. My half-finished piña colada is still in my hand, though by now it’s entirely melted.
I push myself up. Yawning, I stretch out my stiff limbs and roll my neck from side to side. How long had I been asleep? Evidently, a good amount of time has passed; the shadows are starting to lengthen.
Overhead, clouds are gathering. Hmm, looked like rain. If this were true, it would be the first bad weather I had seen.
Grabbing my book, I shuffle off towards my room. I have somewhat of a headache from the alcohol, though I feel surprisingly more alert than I probably should. At one of the many cabana bars scattered about the resort, I stop for a bottle of cold water. I was still so very tired, my arms and legs feeling like they weighed a thousand pounds each.
Before I return to my villa, I stop by Rich’s. M knock receives no answer. He must not be back yet. Whatever he went to do was taking longer than expected, it seemed. Well, no matter. As he had said, he would come find me whenever he got back.
Back in my room, I sit in bed awhile, tired but no longer so sleepy. Probably a good idea not to go back to bed anyways, lest I end up unable to sleep tonight. Not that I had anything to do, of course.
For a good hour, I do nothing, merely sit there in bed and let the delicious feeling of total relaxation run through my veins. Not a care in the world I had. When was the last time I had experienced this? Surely not since childhood.
I don’t really feel like doing much of anything. For a moment, I contemplate turning on the television. But the thought of watching some terrible movie or the news is unappealing, to say the least. Reading, too, strikes me as distinctly uninteresting.
Finally, after some deliberation, I settle on checking my email, something I haven’t done since arriving. Retrieving my computer from my suitcase, I open it up on my lap in bed. I’m hungry and am munching on some peanuts I’d grabbed from a bowl of snacks just inside the front door. As I had suspected, there’s nothing too pressing to be found in my inbox. Just a few newsletters from various companies offering me things I don’t need and several messages from Sophia. She’s worried if I’ve made it, if I’m doing alright, if I’m surviving now that my life has been shattered. Reading her messages, I can’t help but laugh. If only she knew how things had changed!
I decide to send her a short message. We’ve known each other long enough that I know if she doesn’t hear from me soon, she’ll end up calling the police to check to see if I’m alive. Opening up a new message, I type out a quick recount of my first week, assuring her that all is fine and well. I hesitate, unsure whether I should mention Rich. But why the hell not? If it was what it looked like to me, I was going to have to tell her eventually.
Before I send the message, I attach a photo of Rich and me that one of the waiters (had it been Cal?) had taken during our very first dinner together. It’s a good photo, the two of us looking as happy as can be. Funny how looking back, I could clearly see that there had already been a part of me that had known what was going to happen. Why did I think I had been pushing so hard against it?
The message sent, I close my computer and set it on the bedside table. The peanuts just aren’t cutting it. I’m ravenous. Still, I’m much too lazy and comfortable to put my sandals back on and go in search of real food. Even the phone is too far away. So much for room service. Besides, ordering it would mean that I’d have to get up and go to the door. Right this moment, that was feeling just about impossible.
I had no other option, then, than to continue lying here as hungry as can be. Fine by me. I stretch out on the cool sheets, my gaze fixed on the bright blue sky visible through a gap in the softly billowing curtain covering the back door. Everything feels so calm and peaceful. I sigh. If I could, I would live in this moment forever and ever.
Tell me, Becca, who’s to say you can’t?