some power behind it – you know, around the edges of the creative process.” Another smile.
“Can you hold that thought until this gratitude passes, please?” I asked; we both froze.
Michael ordered lunch as I pointed to suggestions from the menu. In the thirty minutes before lunch arrived, we set up the balcony to receive the table settings, after a bit of a battle we packed an après lunch bowl.
I grabbed my Pinky and looked about to find a place to prepare a bowl besides the table. I saw a flat surface and straddled the lounge and put my preparations in front of me. Michael was uncomfortable with our hold on the connection so he straddled the lounge right behind me. I was very leery of that move and tried to turn around so that he was not cradling my back. Michael held me in place with his arms around my waist. The more I moved to change the position the more the connection played with my nerves.
With his arms tight around me, he held me in place and whispered in my ear.
“Helen, be still please.”
I caught the note in his voice and froze in place.
“Room service will be here soon and I’d rather not be erect when they arrive.”
From what I could feel, it was too late.
“Sorry,” I said and focused on packing the bowl with my fluffy grindings.
Michael rested his head on my shoulder. He took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of me without thinking what it would do to his self control and resolve. He took in huge gulps of air and then he froze holding me as tight as I’ve ever been held in my life.
We had lunch in relative silence. I was tired from the whole connection thing and just wanted to stare at the ocean and listen to music. Lucky for me, Michael was amenable to that.
After about 20 minutes at the rail, I yawned a few times and Michael suggested that we have a nap. Before that could happen we needed to take another trip to the bathroom. We were very cautious about keeping the connection even when we switched places. We had to hold on pretty tight for the reconnect but were able to avoid getting carried away with the sensual stuff.
I took the slider side and Michael took the other. We hooked up and slept for a couple of sleep cycles, about 3 hours. When I woke, Michael’s head was in my lap and I was absent mindedly stroking his temple and brushing his hair back with my finger tips. He woke up with a smile on his face. We stayed hooked and connected talking lazily for another hour. We watched a bit of the ships TV to see what was going on in Denice’s world. It had no draw for either one of us.
When we were tired of being inside the cabin, we made our way to the balcony and watched the colors of the sunset play on the expanse of the great Pacific. We wouldn’t see land for two days when we docked in Hilo on the big island of Hawaii.
“Michael,” I broke the silence.
“I know that you’ve traveled all over the world but have you spent much time on any of the islands?”
“No.”
“Have you thought of getting off the ship for a day adventure? You will be aboard for all 4 ports of call.”
He just listened.
“Maybe there’s something that interests you enough to leave the balcony. I just want to let you know that I’ll do what I can to make it work for you.”
“Thanks, I’ll think about it,” he said.
“Are you hungry for dinner?” he added.
“I’m really not very hungry, but I could eat; maybe I’ll just have a salad tonight. Yeah, a salad and jello.”
“Sounds good,” he said.
He pulled me along with him as he went to order dinner. After the call, he retrieved a bottle of white wine from the ice box, worked the cork, cleaned off the top, took a long drink straight from the bottle, and then handed it to me. I followed suit and took my turn at the wine. It felt so bohemian and sexy – my lips touching the very place where his lips had just been. It’s the little things and I appreciated that moment and locked it away to be looked at with loving scrutiny and remembered down to the very second.
“I Want to Stop and Thank You Baby” was playing quietly in the background. I reached around Michael and turned up the volume. I was feeling all of the days pent up gratitude and needed a release. I just sucked it up and took my turn at the wine.
With the thought that Michael would leave in four and a half days, I could feel myself slipping away into a funk. My little distant voice was trying to get my attention – through the haze of invading sadness. It’s unlike me to give up and sink into a pity wallow. Fear gripped me and the stress of it kept me tied up in a knot and I could barely hear the warning my little voice was giving me, ‘Don’t miss the good stuff because of some thing you can’t control – Don’t ruin the time you have left with him.’
“Help me, Michael.” I said more to myself than to him.
“I’m stressed with the thought of your final disconnect. Please tell me that every thing will be fine. Please tell me that we’ll work this out.”
Michael put his hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him, looked in my eyes, and said, “We’ll work this out; it’s gonna be fine.”
Then he pulled me close and whispered in my ear.
“We’ll work this out; it’s gonna be fine.”
We held each other close for a minute without moving. Then Michael steered me to the lounge chairs. Once seated, he chose some more music.
“Let’s defer the work required until tomorrow and just enjoy the rest of today just being together. Does that sound ok to you?”
My eyes welled up. How did he know to say that exact right thing? It was as though he were that little voice in my head warning me of the road to depression. The balance and peace returned like a gift as we sat listening to the music. I wasn’t sure how long the ebb in my stress would last but I decided to listen to my little voice and to Michael. So, I tuned in to every vibration, scent, and sound the Pacific air had to offer.
Room service brought our dinner and served our salads in less than 2 minutes. When the waiters left I said to Michael, “I need to freshen up before I eat, how about you?”
“Sounds good, I’ll follow you.”
As I moved in front of him, he said, “It’s a good view.”
I smiled but gave no other response. The anticipation of the disconnect was dreadful; I knew Michael felt it too – he squeezed my hand and placed his other hand on my hip. We both sighed deeply. I turned to look at him before I opened the door. Michael quickly stepped between me and the bathroom entrance.
“What exactly do you have to do in there?” He nodded towards the inside.
“Well, let’s see, I need to brush my teeth, use the toilet, and wash my hands… maybe run a comb through my hair.”
“Same stuff as me.” Our eyes still locked. He continued.
“Most
