The CD ended; we didn’t move; the silence was both a contract breach and a relief. In order to get more music, we would have to disconnect. The idea took a bit of getting used to and then a small measure of preparation. I felt Michael’s eyes.
“It’s over, any preferences at this time?”
“How about some easy listening? Didn’t I see a Percy Faith CD in your collection?”
I knew there would be no lyrics for which to tempt me to sing along.
Even though we were quiet and peaceful, I felt the anxiety of the anticipated connection break, the separation of our pinkie fingers. Michael alleviated the stress with finesse by the way he changed the music. He took a deep breath and then released his hold on me. I saw and felt the breathing change; I followed suit because I immediately felt the loss. I matched my non-breathing to his non-breathing – in essence – we were in a kind of limbo. Using the serene elegance that was afforded by the calm day, he gracefully, lacking any extraneous movement, switched the CDs and pushed play. Almost in the same movement, he reclaimed the connection between us before we missed 3 heart beats.
Our first breath after the reconnect was deep and meaningful. We felt our comfort and peace return as quickly as it was severed. For an instant I was afraid that just the pinkie link wasn’t enough to reconnect. Maybe we should have another ‘hand-kiss’ for a stronger jump start. Michael obviously had more faith than I had. I relaxed immediately and was amazed.
We listened and allowed the music to enhance the joy; we practically wallowed in it. There was no way that I could protect myself from the giddiness I felt.
About midway through the sixteen songs Denice came out to the balcony. That time she was not averse to disturbing us. She sat down at our table in a chair she brought from the stateroom.
“Hellie, Mike, it’s time for decisions.”
She waved the patter at me. As my left hand was otherwise engaged I took the newsletter with my right. Denice placed her Patter on the breakfast table and got serious as she read and made her decisions.
With the itinerary page up in front of the two of us, we read each line to ourselves. I finished rather quickly and set the highlighter on the table in front of Michael. He gave me a quick glance as he pointed to the 8 o’clock movie under the stars. He wasn’t interested but thought it was important to me. I shrugged and then shook my head. “I’m happy here.” I qualified my reaction.
“Me too,” He answered.
I didn’t mark anything on the patter. Denice took more time. She concentrated on each calendared event and gave it her complete attention. When she finished, she looked pleased with her selections for the day.
She picked up my Patter to compare.
“Hellie, you didn’t highlight anything.”
She took a breath and stepped back.
“I guess nothing appealed to you.”
“MaSoeure, I’m happy here on the balcony. Was there something that you wanted me to see?”
“Well, no, it’s just that I feel like I’ve abandoned you. Today, I have several highlighted areas: The line dance class; the second pottery class; early dinner with Manny; movie Under the Stars; and finally the 10 o’clock show. I’ll be gone most of the day.
“I am fine, MaSeoure. You truly waste your time with concern over me.”
I made sure that she would go have her fun.
Michael reacted ever so slightly to my short verbal with my sister; he pulled on my pinkie. Was he restating his claim with that tiny little movement? No need, I was thoroughly and completely claimed.
“MaSoeure, I know you’re busy but could you spare me a minute or two to bring me up-to-date with you?”
“I’ve got a few minutes right now, would now be good?”
She was uncharacteristically concerned about my time probably because Michael was there.
“Lay it on us.”
I included Michael in hopes that the word ‘us’ would anchor him there with me. He stayed. I smiled.
“Ok,” she cooed.
Michael chuckled.
Her clear bright eyes sparkled with excitement as she talked about the life she lived outside of our stateroom.
“At some point, you’ll probably meet Carol and Andrew and Sam and Sarah, the other two couples in the group – Manny and I haven’t spent much time with them. We have been going off on our own. He’s a great partner. It seems we have quite a bit to say to each other. Sabitini’s was the perfect place. Last night dinner took over 2 hours. They gave us a very secluded table with a view of the water. I drank too much wine. You saw that I didn’t make it home last night. I know better than to drink and walk. I enjoyed the excesses. We are going to an early dinner with the group.”
She paused a moment to gauge my reaction. She saw that I was relaxed and happy. She looked at Michael. I knew she had questions but she also had the where-with-all to keep them for another time. While she talked, she cleared the table, stacked it all on the trays and set them near the slider.
I wanted to relieve her of any concerns. I smiled at her, my best ‘sister really’ smile and said, “I’m fine, I’m happy, no worries.”
There was no need to explain further. She was released, she was happy about that and comforted by the fact that she didn’t have to babysit me. She understood that she didn’t have to stay with me but she continued to talk to us about her pottery project. Her new friend, Manny was gifted with an artistic flare and she hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed with her childish effort. She said that we was sadened by the fact that her ability to draw didn’t translate to the ability to mold clay into anything recognizable.
“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
