Joanne in Sand

An adult stories – Joanne in Sand by PickFiction,PickFiction All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.

If you’re looking for lots of sex, this might not be the story for you. There is a bit near the end, but it’s neither intense nor graphically described.

*****

“I think I may die before this happens,” I lamented, ready to break into tears.

“You can always call it off,” Les said nonchalantly without even smiling.

Her name was actually Olesya, but everyone shortened it to Les, and she was my best friend, my maid of honor, and the cool-headed opposite of myself. Thank goodness for the last one. I often clung desperately to that.

“I should strangle you for even jokingly suggesting that. Does what I said make sense? Coherent language has been beyond me lately.” I was blabbering, but with the wedding only three days away and so much left to do, I wasn’t sure what might happen.

“It’s all going to happen, Jo. They never have to call off weddings because some small task wasn’t handled.”

“The flowers, photographer, caterer, and DJ aren’t classified as small tasks. Tell me I’m not going crazy.” I knew I was, so telling me I wasn’t wouldn’t work. Still, I’d like to hear it.

“Sit your little redheaded self down and listen to what I’m going to tell you. And listen carefully.” There was a frown on her face, but I sensed she was laughing internally.

I sat as directed, wondering what she was going to tell me. I noticed my hand shaking. Maybe I needed to see the doctor. Or the psychiatrist. I tried to concentrate on Les. Why was she now chuckling?

“The first thing I’m going to tell you is to take a…long…deep…breath, then let it out slowly.

I tried, but it wasn’t easy.

“Just tell me, Les. More bad news can’t make things worse than they already are.” I didn’t believe that, but it sounded like I knew what I was doing.

“Nadia’s dress arrived, and it fits.”

I nodded. That was good news. What next?

“The florist called, and all of the flowers are cut, arranged, and ready for delivery.”

What was going on? This was all good news.

“That can’t be true–you’re just saying those things to calm me down.” I knew that things never went that well.

“The DJ would like you to give him the names of five or six songs you’d like him to play.”

She’d ignored my comment.

“That just leaves the photographer, who dropped off three albums for you to check out.”

I didn’t know how to respond to good news. But my hand hadn’t stopped shaking, so all was not well.

“That all sounds…”

“Good, right?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong?”

“Things are working out, Jo. Just like I’ve been telling you they would.”

I felt the tear creeping down my cheek. Les was a little blurred when I looked at her.

“How can I ever thank you?” I jumped up and hugged her as tightly as I could.

“Jo, without a mother to help you, I knew you’d need me. And there was nothing I wanted any more than to be able to do that.”

“You have, Les. Oh my gosh, you have.” What a treasure I had in Les. ” I don’t deserve you.”

She smiled at me. “How long have we known each other?”

“Um, since kindergarten?”

“Yup. Long time.”

“Eighteen years?”

“At least. And if I was getting married, would you help me plan?

I chuckled and was feeling a little better. “I’d be angry if you didn’t ask me.”

“Same here. I’m going to be ready if my wedding ever rolls around.”

“Wait. I’ve been so wrapped up in myself. Oh, geesh.” I looked at her helplessly

Les shrugged. “Lou’s enthusiasm seems to be, well, waning, I guess.”

Les, no.”

“We operate a little differently.”

I knew that Les was as sweet and kind a person as I’d ever known. I wasn’t a man, but I thought she was cute, and couldn’t imagine that a man wouldn’t fall for her.

“How’s that?”

“I guess I just like to get to know a guy, find out what he’s like, his values, his hopes, and dreams, and see where things go. No hurry.” She was quiet for a moment. “I think Lou had a list to check off. First date: kiss. Second date: kiss with tongue. Third date: oral sex. Fourth date: regular sex.”

“Uh-oh. I’m sorry, Les.”

She smiled at me. “This wedding has kind of saved me. Thank YOU.”

“Still, Les. That isn’t right.”

“Don’t worry about me. There’s a wedding about to happen, and my best friend and her new husband will be off to The Dominican Republic for two weeks of…of what, Jo?”

I hated it when she made me blush. And I was blushing, thinking about having sex with Tyson…for two weeks.

“My goal today has been to calm you down. I think I’ve succeeded, at least a little. You have two more days, and there may be some tiny glitches that need to be taken care of. Call me, and let me take care of them.”

Les left, and I was alone. Well, Dad was asleep upstairs but would be up soon to get ready for work. He worked maintenance for one of the large shopping centers but spent a lot of his time doing miscellaneous odd jobs for the tenants, which he enjoyed. He was so looking forward to walking me down the aisle. Life hadn’t gone as he’d expected with Mother dying two years ago, which had been a shock to both of us.

When Dad left, I went to the spare bedroom and tried on my gown one more time. Les had warned me that if I kept doing that, I might be married in a dirty gown. I wasn’t concerned. I was careful. I used the long mirror to view the gown, to view myself walking as I would be on Saturday, and, finally, I just stood there admiring myself in the mirror.

The countdown was at three days, and I was almost ticking off the minutes.

At a little after ten on Thursday morning, my cell phone rang. My smile was huge when I saw that it was Tyson.

“Hello, hon. Are you getting as excited as I am?”

“Hello, Jo. I, um, needed to call this morning.”

I waited for him to fill me in, but he was silent.

“Is everything okay?” Tyson was certainly different from most men his age, but I’d grown to love him and was anxious to build a life with him.

“Honestly, Jo, no.”

Honestly? Why the sudden formality?

“Um, go on, then. Is there something I can help with?”

“It does involve you, Jo.”

“How does it involve me, hon?”

“This is really difficult for me to say, Jo.”

“Just say it, Tyson,” I heard in the background and recognized the voice of my future father-in-law. But what he said unnerved me.

“I’m sorry to say it, Jo, but I can’t go on with the wedding.”

What had he said? It sounded like he’d said there’d be no wedding.

“What did you say?” I asked, my voice and my body trembling.

“I’ve been thinking, and I’m not ready to marry. I need some time away. I leave tomorrow for Finland to achieve my Ph.D. at the University of Turku. I think it best we not see each other prior to my leaving.”

“Tyson, I hope you’re teasing me.”

“You should know by now that I don’t tease, Jo.”

“You should know by now that we are to be married on Saturday.”

“I’ll be in Finland then.”

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might shatter. It felt like the floor was falling out from under my feet.

“Wrap it up, Tyson. We have things to take care of.” The voice In the background again.

“Give me a minute, Dad. Are you still there, Jo?”

I think the impact of what Tyson had said finally broached the credibility wall of my brain–I began to cry.

“I’m truly sorry. Everything is paid for, including the two weeks in the Dominican Republic. And,” his voice lowered drastically, “I’ll send a check to cover other stuff.” Louder again. “I’d better be going.”

My phone was back to the home screen. I watched it drop out of my hand to the floor.

I was right behind it, shaking.

The sobbing began.

The phone buzzed, and “The Fields of Athenry” began to play.

It was Tyson calling back to say he’d been joking. I blinked to clear my eyes. The name on the screen was Olesya Vasilyev.

I didn’t want to talk to her or anyone. My world had just ended…with a telephone call.

The phone went silent, but only for a few seconds. The song began again.

I stared…and decided. I took a deep breath and answered.

The breath hadn’t done any good as I gasped out, “Oh, Les.”

“Jo, what’s wrong? Are you crying?”

“Tyson,” I mumbled. “No wedding.”

A second’s pause. “I’ll be there in five minutes. DON’T YOU MOVE.”

I was sitting on the floor, staring at the phone that had just undone my entire existence. Les was on the way, but I didn’t know what I’d say to her after I told her…

I was sobbing again, gasping for breath, and was still doing it when Les burst through the front door.

I was wrapped up in a hug.

“Don’t say anything, Jo. Take some deep breaths, then tell me what’s going on. It sounded like you said, ‘Tyson,’ and ‘no wedding.'”

Her words brought more sobs.

Les spent five minutes just talking softly–I can’t remember anything of what she said as my mind was floating and speeding nearly incoherently.

The sobbing stopped, and I concentrated on taking the deep breaths that Les was encouraging. I knew I had to talk eventually.

She was looking at me, pain on her face, maybe my pain reflected on her. I didn’t know.

“Can you talk to me now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. But I’ll try.”

“Just go slowly, and stop if you need to. I’ve got plenty of time.”

My phone buzzed, and the music played once again. Les grabbed it.

“It’s Dean,” she said.

“Ignore it.” I didn’t need to talk to any of Tyson’s friends, even if they were sort of my friend too.

Ignoring me, Lis answered.

“What the hell do you want, Dean?”

She looked at me. “I don’t know. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Les frowned. “Okay, then, I doubt it can make things any worse, and it might help.”

“He’s coming over, and Hillary is coming with him.”

“How come?”

“He said there are things you need to know, not that it will change anything, but It might help.”

Les jumped up and ran to the kitchen, returning with a box of tissues.

“Let me get a waste basket.”

“Under the sink.” While she was gone, I blew my nose. “Thanks, Les,” I said, tossing the three wadded-up tissues into the basket.

“They should be here in about ten minutes.”

“It’s a good thing Hillary is coming. I’m still not sure about Dean.”

“Before they get here, can you fill me in?”

“Tyson called and said the wedding is off. He’s going to Finland to get a Ph.D.”

“Finland? He’s going to Finland?”

“He’s leaving tomorrow. On my wedding day, our wedding day, he’ll be in Finland, and there won’t be a wedding.”

The tears came again, but not nearly as bad this time. One tissue took care of it.

“That bastard,” Les said, venom in her voice.

“I don’t know what to call him. Just a few minutes ago, I loved him. At least, I thought I did.”

“Is that all he said?”

“I’m not sure I remember. His father was talking in the background. He said we shouldn’t see each other again and…and, oh, he kind of whispered that he’d send me a check to help cover things. And the…at least what was supposed to be our honeymoon is paid for. He said I should go ahead and go.” I was shaking my head, remembering that.

“Dominican Republic.”

I nodded.

“You should probably go.”

I think my eyes were as wide as they could be. “Are you kidding?” I felt almost angry at that suggestion from Les.

“I mean it. It’s paid for and, well, you know. It’s a chance to get away by yourself, do a little thinking, and come back to…to move on.”

I wasn’t ready to move on. I was ready for a wedding that I had been planning for two months. Moving on wasn’t in my plan. But maybe it was…or should be…or had to be.

A knock on the door brought me back.

“Where’s your dad?” Les asked as she headed to the door.

“Asleep upstairs.”

“We’ll stay quiet, then.”

Dean and Hillary came into the living room looking very subdued. I wasn’t sure whether to say hello or just glare at them. Dean had been a good friend of Tyson’s for several years and had been a friend of mine since I’d been dating Tyson. Hillary and Dean would be married eventually, and she was caught in the middle.

Dean looked from me to Les and back to me.

“Can I talk?”

“You’d better talk since you insisted on barging in.”

I watched Hillary talk hold of Dean’s arm, and it tore at my heart.

“Tyson told me what he’d done. If his father and mother weren’t standing there nodding their heads, I’d have made him sorry he’d done it. The bastard. It’s that damn father that’s the cause of all the problems. I thought he might have grown up enough to be a man, but I was wrong.”

“Go on,” Les said, grabbing my hand.”

“His dad thinks his shit doesn’t stink. He, well–”

“–thinks that Prince Tyson is too good for the commoner, Joanne,” Les interrupted.

Dean looked at me but didn’t say anything. Finally, “None of them have morals or integrity. I’m sorry you had to be the victim of that.”

I looked at the other three, pondering what Dean had said. I knew that falling in love with Tyson had probably blurred my view of things that surrounded me.

“If there’s anything either of us can do, please let us know,” Hillary said. “I guess we knew a little of what Tyson and his family were like but never dreamed he’d do something like this.

“Thank you.”

“I just felt that I needed to tell you that, Jo. With any luck, Tyson will get terminal frostbite in Finland, and we’ll never see any of them again. Hillary and I will get on our way.” He kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my hand. Take good care of her, Les.”

It was just Les and me again.

“You’ll have to tell your father.”

“What time is it?”

“Five after two.”

“He’ll be up at four. I’ll tell him, I guess.”

“Wait. I guess?”

I looked off, out one of the windows. I had to tell him.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you.”

I felt a tear on my cheek. “Among other things. How could I have been so blind?”

“No, no, no, no. Don’t you dare pull blame away from Tyson and put it on yourself.” Les was right in my face.

I cringed. “I had to have some part in it.”

“Your part was to be a sweet, kind, loving, and gullible partner to the selfish, devious, and totally self-centered pervert.”

“Is that what I was, Les?”

“To some degree, yes.”

Maybe she was right. Right now, I was confused and trembling.

“I’m going to stay here while you tell your dad. When he leaves for work, we’ll go out and get something.”

“No, Les. I don’t want to go out.”

“Trust me, okay.”

Today, I wasn’t sure I could trust anyone. My gut did a flip. This was Les, who I’d known and loved since kindergarten. If there was anyone I could trust… I reached out and hugged her.

“You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

We were at Wendy’s. Les wanted to take me to The Longhorn Steakhouse, but I’d convinced her my stomach wasn’t up to that much food. Maybe a salad. I’d told Dad, and I’d never seen his face so red. He was infuriated that, after losing my mother two years ago, Tyson had inflicted me with this. I wasn’t sure he’d accomplish much at work, but he went anyway.

I crunched a piece of tasteless lettuce, staring out the window, as Les picked up her single and fries.

“You ordered ranch, and if you’d put it on the salad, it might taste better.”

Only her kind nature kept her from adding “stupid” to what she’d said. Her squeeze of my hand nearly brought more tears.

“You need to go, you know.”

“Where?”

“The Dominican Republic.”

“Les, that’s out of the question. I can’t go off by myself like that.”

“Yes, you can. It’s free. I bet it cost eight or ten thousand dollars, and you’re just going to throw it away?”

Les was attacking my “frugal side.” She knew how I hated to waste money. And I knew we’d have had to cancel the reservations a week ago to keep from losing it all. Still, it was to be my honeymoon, and I was sure that thought would cling to me for the entire two weeks.

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“I think that if I took your cute redhead ass to the airport and put you on the plane, you could do it.” Les chuckled at her cleverness.

“That’s just the physical part. It’s the mental and emotional part I’m worried about.”

“If you’re worried about it, then you must be considering it.”

“Les, you’re twisting the words of a confused woman.”

“I don’t want to do that. I’m just telling you what I honestly think and feel.”

“I know, and it’s only you saying it that makes me even consider it.”

“Keep considering, and picture how the two weeks will be if you stay here. Everyone you know stopping by to console you, with you repeating the story over and over.”

“You’re not very encouraging, Les. It sounds like my life will be a living hell no matter what I do.”

“Not what I said, ma’am. I was describing you staying here. If you head off to the island, you’re in charge of what happens.”

“I thought I was in charge before.”

“You still haven’t put the ranch dressing on the salad.”

“I think you’re trying to control my whole life,” I said, amazed at my feeble attempt at humor.

Les chuckled again. “I’ll help you pack.”

My turn to chuckle. I tore open the packet and squeezed the ranch dressing onto the salad. The bite I took tasted much better.

“What could I have done differently, Les?”

“Yeah, what could you have done differently?”

“I asked you first.”

“So you’re saying you did something wrong?”

“Or left something out.”

“Not enough sex?” she asked, grinning broadly.

“Les!” I looked around, hoping no one had heard her.

“Listen to what I’m saying. You…did…nothing…wrong.”

I just looked at her, wishing I could believe what she said. She could be right, I suppose, but I’d have to do more thinking about it. A review of the past two years. But Les wasn’t waiting for me.

“Here’s the plan. Tomorrow we turn off your phone for most of the day, and we hang out at a faraway mall, picking up a few things for your trip.”

“Les, I haven’t–”

“Shhh. Just listen. Saturday is packing day. Start thinking about what you want to take. It’s two weeks, but I’m sure they have a laundry which will make it easier.”

She sounded so sure and confident; I was having trouble arguing with her.

“Besides, you’ll be spending most of your time on the beach in your bikini.”

I snorted. “I don’t have a bikini, smarty pants.” I actually had one, but it was more of a two-piece than a bikini.

“You will after tomorrow.”

“Les?”

I’m going to take you to your house, strip you naked, and make you look at yourself in the mirror.”

My mouth was hanging open.

“What are you, five-three, and with a perfectly proportioned five-three figure? Bikinis were invented for people like you.”

I don’t know where Les was getting these ideas. She’d never talked like that before.

“Say that you’re going, so I can finalize our plans.”

Our plans. It sounded like Les was right there with me. I’m not sure many people have such a devoted friend. What else could I say?

“It may be the biggest mistake of my life, but I’ll go. I don’t know what else to do.”

“It won’t be a mistake, Jo. And when you get back, you won’t be able to talk about anything else for a week.”

“I hope you’re right,”

*****

“So, how are you doing with the packing?”

I laughed. “I’ve packed, unpacked, repacked, de-packed, and stuffed things into my suitcase. I’m not sure what I’m doing or what I’ll be doing, so I don’t know what to do. I can’t even make sense, can I? And now you’re laughing at me.”

Les was laughing hard, and she came across the room and gave me a hug.

“I’m here to help.”

“Like you helped yesterday with the bikini?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten it if I hadn’t sneaked out your credit card and paid for it.”

“Right, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to wear it.”

“I want you to text me a photo every day of you on the beach wearing that bikini.”

“Like that’s going to happen.”

“Look at me.”

I looked, and she did appear serious. When she looked that way, I knew something serious was about to be said.

“You know, Jo, when you agreed to take this trip, you showed how strong you are. You didn’t hide in the corner and pout, you’re doing something.”

“I’m doing something you made me do,” I replied, half in jest, but I wouldn’t have done it without Les’s prodding. I wasn’t sure it was strength that made me fly off to what was purported to be warm and beautiful. That’s what I’d been told when we picked it for the honeymoon. I hoped it was all true.

“So,” Les continued, “wear the bikini.”

“I’ll probably try it. I could pack it in my wallet, and no one would know it.”

Les spotted it in the suitcase and held it up–both tiny pieces.

“Green to match your eyes and compliment your pale skin and red hair. And, big enough to cover your particulars.”

“Barely,” I grumbled.

“While you’re away, I’ll get a new and tiny bikini, and we’ll go to the pool together.”

“You just want to embarrass me with those big hooters of yours hanging out.”

Les laughed. “Nothing I can do about that.”

I spent a good bit of the rest of the day with Dad and was a bit surprised at his understanding of my feelings. I felt so much better after my time with him, and he agreed it would be good for Olesya to take me to the airport.

“It’s nice to have only one suitcase, but I don’t know if I can survive on what you packed,” I told Les on Sunday morning.

“Most people pack too much,” she countered. “Plus, you have a credit card, and I guarantee they have shops.”

“Might be fun to splurge on a few new things.”

With a hug and mutual kisses on cheeks, I bid Les goodbye and headed for security and my gate. I’d checked the suitcase at the stand just inside the door, so I had only my fairly substantial backpack to lug around. I stopped at the McDonalds for an Egg McMuffin and a couple bottles of water, then meandered to my gate, wondering what the hell I was doing. I still had more than an hour to fill.

I actually dozed a little on the flight to Miami, watched lots of well-tanned travelers during the one-hour layover, then was off to the Dominican Republic.

I’d only been seated for a few minutes when someone settled into the seat beside me. When I glanced at him, he smiled and stared, shaking his head. He looked to be mid-fifties, with nearly black hair and graying temples, dark eyes that seemed to twinkle, and a classically handsome face.

“Sorry for staring,” he said as he fastened his seatbelt, “but you’ll understand in a moment.” He opened his briefcase, pulled out his laptop computer, then stowed the briefcase under the seat.

The laptop was on, and while it was booting up, he glanced at me again with another smile. When he turned it so I could see the screen, a woman’s face filled the screen.

“My wife.”

“Very pretty, and red hair,” I said with a chuckle.

“Yes, red hair,” he confirmed as he brought up another picture.

My mouth dropped open, and it was my turn to look at him. “That isn’t me, but it could be.”

“It’s my wife on our honeymoon about thirty-four years ago.”

When he said “honeymoon,” I felt it in my stomach but didn’t let it show.

“You two could be sisters, maybe fraternal twins, even down to the freckles. May I take a selfie with you and text it to her?”

“Sure.” I scooted closer and bent across the seat divider as he took the photo and sent it to his wife with the message, “My seatmate.”

“Do you have time for me to call?” was her almost instant response.

He made the Facetime call, and the redhead I had just seen was there in front of me.

“There you are,” she said. “You aren’t me, but you could have been a few years ago. Harold, how did you find her?”

“She was just sitting here, waiting for me.”

We were ready to take off, so the phone was put away.

I extended my hand. “I’m Joanne Kilbride?”

“Mathew Wellings, and that was my wife, Angela. Kilbride is a good Irish name, and Angela was an O’Brian.”

“Is there any way you could email that photo of your wife to me?”

He switched to a note-taking app, and I gave him my email address.

The rest of the trip was energizing as Matt and I jabbered the entire time. I almost hated it when we had to part after landing.

But I was here in the Dominican Republic and caught the shuttle to the resort where I’d be trapped for two weeks.

I checked in and was escorted to where I’d be staying. Tyson, bless his blackened soul, had spared no expense on our, now my, accommodations. A large living room with a huge flat-screen TV, a tiny kitchen, and a bedroom with a king-size bed. It was on the third floor, and there were two giant windows with a view of the ocean. There were bottles of wine, a basket of fruit, and a large arrangement of flowers, all of which were renewed every day.

I was a little hungry and had read that there were three fantastic (the resort’s description) restaurants on the site. I decided I’d go downstairs and eat at the first one I found. I changed into shorts and a yellow blouse and headed out the door.

I closed the door and immediately bumped into someone.

“Damn distracted driving,” he said as he waved his cell phone over his head. “I’m sorry and hope you’re okay.”

I chuckled. “No harm, no foul,” I said, continuing the out-of-place sayings that had begun our contact.

“Good. And I’m Lonny O’Reilly,” he added, his rather large hand extended toward me.

“Joanne Kilbride,” I said, watching my hand disappear but being amazed at his gentle touch.

“Kilbride, huh? Kilbride and O’Reilly. An Irish convention.” His laugh was deep and warm. “And to make it nearly complete, you look very Irish with the red hair and those tantalizing freckles.”

Hearing the compliment from a tall, fit, and decidedly handsome man had my cheeks striving to match my hair.

“That’s not a word I’d use to describe them.”

“Listen, something tells me you’re heading to dinner, and unless you’re joining someone else, would you allow me to join you?”

My mind was whirring, but I couldn’t think of a single plausible excuse for not joining him.

“If you can put up with me, I’d like that.”

His smile gave away that there was something he wanted to say but was restraining himself. And I was curious about his saying he was joining me–maybe innocuous, but unusual for a man, I thought.

“Which restaurant had you chosen?”

Another laugh. “Whichever one I came to first.”

“As good as flipping a coin. I’m right behind you.”

We went outside and wandered randomly until we found another building, and in it found a restaurant. We were seated and handed menus, which weren’t much help. They were in English, but the food was in Dominican, if there was such a thing.

“Have you been here before?” I asked, looking puzzled, I’m sure.

“I was counting on you. There are descriptions. Short descriptions.”

Short was right. My eyes were jumping back and forth, working to read them all.

“May I ask a question?” Lonny quietly asked, interrupting my eyeball dancing.

“Sure.”

“Are you brave and adventurous?”

The suddenness of his question made me wary, and I think he interpreted the look on my face.

“About food, since that’s what we’re doing now.” He looked a bit chagrined, probably due to my reaction. “Sorry,” he added demurely.

“No, no. It’s just me. Go ahead with what you were going to say.” I decided quickly. “Yes, I can be brave and adventurous.”

He eyed me for a moment, then chuckled. “Here’s my plan, my suggested plan, at least.”

He spread the menu in front of me.

“You close your eyes, I’ll shift the menu around, and you put your finger on what you’ll be eating tonight. Then, I’ll do the same.” His eyes seemed to twinkle in the light from the large candle gracing our table as he awaited my answer.

“I don’t know what it is when I read it, so why not? Closing my eyes.”

I heard the menu moving around.

“Okay.”

I lowered my finger until it touched something, then opened my eyes.

“You’re having Sancocho.”

With the process repeated, Lonny was having Chicharron.

“Earlier, you said it was just you.” Lonny smiled.

I was really enjoying my time with Lonny, all forty-five minutes of it so far. No one had mentioned marital status. It was my turn to shrug or to tell him. Bold and adventurous?

“This was supposed to be my honeymoon. On Friday, my fiance said, ‘bye-bye’ and headed off to Finland.” There it was, in just a few words.”

“Idiot!” he said sharply. If all of you is like the lady I’ve seen tonight, he’s an idiot, or maybe worse.”

I was a little surprised at his outburst and wasn’t sure how to reply.

“And I can’t imagine going through something like that. I’m so sorry it had to happen to you.”

“Thanks so much. I can’t imagine going through it either, except I am. We’ll see how it comes out.”

“Um, you’re okay? I mean, you aren’t thinking…”

It suddenly dawned on me what he was talking about. It was very personal, but the concerned look on his face and in his eyes somehow soothed me.

“No, no. Nothing like that. When the two weeks are over, I’ll go home and try to figure things out and where I’ll be headed.”

“That was kind of pushy, but we had a neighbor whose husband suddenly left, and when another neighbor got a little suspicious, he found her in her garage and in her car…with the motor running.”

“Was she okay?” Just the thought of that was terrifying.

“They found her just in time, thank goodness.”

“Nothing like that has even passed through my mind. I’m just twenty-five, and, well, I’m expecting a full life.” I chuckled. “Maybe I just went through strike one. Two more to go.”

“I hope not.”

Our meals arrived, my Sancocho and Lonny’s Chicharron. We both smiled at the server, then stared at what was in front of us.

I knew that mine had beef, pork, and chicken, as well as several vegetables, a couple of which I recognized. The smell was very enticing, so I dipped my spoon and sampled it.

“Well,” Lonny said, smiling at me. “Did your finger betray you?”

“Not at all; it’s good.”

“What does it taste like?”

“Like nothing I’ve ever tasted before, but it’s very, very good. Go ahead and dip your spoon and try it.”

He did. “You’re right. Gooood. Go ahead and try mine.”

“You haven’t tried it yet,” I countered.

“I’m like the king. I need a taster before I try it.”

The expression on his face and the tone of his words made me laugh.

“I’ve already used my spoon.”

“Use your fork then, and take a nice bite.”

“Is that pork?” Not that it made any difference. I was just curious.

“That’s what the menu says.”

This did seem a little weird, sharing each other’s food, but if Lonny was okay with it, I suppose I was too. I used my fork to cut off a piece of the meat and tasted it.

“I think you’ll like it, your majesty.”

Lonny laughed, shook his head, and took a bite.

“My compliments to the royal taster. It’s good, indeed.”

When I’d arrived here, I certainly hadn’t felt like joking or laughing, but Lonny was easy to talk to, and, trying or not, he was cheering me up a little. I wasn’t sure it would last, but it was a very pleasant change from the last couple of days.

We finished eating, we exchanged “glad to meet yous,” and parted.

Les had loaded a dozen books onto my Kindle, but first, I made a quick trip to the beach just to look at the ocean. Then I returned to my room, beginning the first book on the Kindle. Les called to find out if I’d gotten here safely, and we talked for fifteen minutes. I shared the story of the Wellings, and she was anxious to see the pictures.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

I hadn’t really planned anything. “I guess a good breakfast and then a walk around to see the whole place. I’ll probably end up on the beach reading.”

I expected her to insist I wear the new bikini, but she didn’t say anything. I promised to text tomorrow.

The book was good, but it had been a full day. Two glasses of a red wine that was unfamiliar to me, plus a banana, and I was asleep, huddled beneath the flowered sheets and light blanket in the king-size bed.

I hadn’t closed the drapes since I was on the third floor, and the bright sun greeted me when I opened my eyes. I propped myself up on two pillows and watched the ocean as reality slowly crept into focus. What was I going to be doing for the next two weeks, and why did I let Les talk me into this?

I decided that my first act would be to get dressed, and the second would be breakfast. The first completed, I headed downstairs, stopping at the desk to ask which restaurant served American breakfasts. Pointed in the right direction, I had bacon and eggs. I’d experiment later in the week.

Back in my room, I brushed my teeth and debated. I knew Les would ask, and that made my decision simple. I pulled the new bikini out of the suitcase…and stared at it, what there was of it. It was green but had a small and unique pattern of black lines that even I found to be fascinating. There was a small chain that circled my neck and two similar ones that would rest on my hips, holding the front and back together. I took a deep breath, added a light coverup, filled a small bag with essentials, and began my day at the beach.

The resort had chairs strategically placed, and I selected one as my home base. I applied SPF 8 and, after an hour, would add SPF 50, hopefully allowing my pale skin to develop a bit of color. I was freckled but, in the past, had been able to tan. With two weeks, I might be able to do it again.

With the coverup in the bag, I headed toward the water, anxious to get my feet wet. The water was warm, and the feel of the sand being washed away from beneath my feet was almost seductive, bringing back memories of past beach experiences. I waded, watched the waves, and brushed aside, as best I could, thoughts of what these two weeks were supposed to be.

I was part-way through my first book and was anxious to finish it. It looked like Les had loaded only adventure books on my Kindle. I walked across the hard sand to my chair, retrieved the Kindle, and began to read.

“Can you play with us,” a small voice asked.?

I twisted in the chair and found a smiling face opposite mine.

“Hi there. Are you having a good time at the ocean?”

“Yes, and so is my brother, Adam.”

Another face appeared. “Hello. We need help.”

“Can you help us?”

I think I was close to their size, so they wanted me to join them.

“What do you need help with?”

Adam’s sister pointed to a large pile of sand that had a bit of shape to it.

“We want to build a sand castle.”

“So if you’re Adam,” I said, pointing to the boy, “who are you?”

“I’m Ruth. Will you help us?”

I heard another voice.

“Ruth, Adam, don’t bother the lady.” The speaker, whose blond hair matched Ruth’s, was running toward us.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, an almost anguished look on her face. “I went to get coffee. I’m sorry they bothered you.”

“I was sitting here by myself, and now I have company. And I think I’m about to build a sand castle.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.”

“I have time, plenty of it, and I don’t want to let my new friends down.”

A duet of “Yay” sounded, and the two little ones headed for the sand.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She looked at me carefully. “How can someone who has your looks be here by themself?”

I laughed a little sardonically, I think. “In a few words, shit happens.”

“Uh-oh. Sorry for that” She was quiet for a moment. “I wish I could wear a bikini like that. But, as you said, not exactly shit happens, but kids happen,” she finished, glancing at her two. “Feel free to go back to your book.”

“I’m kind of looking forward to seeing a sand castle appear in that pile of sand.”

Mom laughed. “I’m going to finish my coffee and read for a while. The hubby is off playing golf, so I have a little free time to read.” She laughed again. “I saw you reading, too, on your Kindle. He says I read too much. I need to DO more things. He needs to stay home with those kids so he can see more of what I do.” A sigh this time. “Thanks for letting me blow off a little steam there.”

“Hey, no problem. I’m looking forward to one day having a couple of them myself.”

“Good luck on that,” she said, waving to me. “You two be good,” she added, waved, and walked quickly back to her coffee and book.

We had two buckets, so we headed to the ocean to get some water. I wasn’t sure how much was needed to build a stable sand castle, but I was sure we’d learn.

We carved a little bowl in the sand, poured in the water, then mixed in the sand.

“Ew,” Ruth said. “My arms are all sandy.”

“Take the bucket and get more water, and while you’re there, rinse the sand off your arms.”

“Okay.”

And so went the next hour as we worked together to get a sand castle started. Hopefully, it would rain tonight, which would provide lots of wet sand for tomorrow.

“Okay, you two. Time to go back to our room and then get some lunch. Your daddy will be home soon.”

“We’re having fun with Joanne.”

“It’ll be here tomorrow, guys. Have a good lunch.”

Chagrined, they took a last look at the sand they hoped would become a castle.

I was somewhat committed to helping them, so I tried to visualize how our creation might look. After about ten minutes, I became aware that someone was standing behind me. When I turned to see who it might be, I was surprised.

“You’re not someone I’d expect to see playing in the sand with two little buckets,” he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

He wasn’t someone I expected to see looking over my shoulder, either.

“There’s a logical explanation, and if not logical, at least reasonable.”

His laugh was warm and sincere.

“You brought it up, so I’m waiting for logical or reasonable.” He had light curly hair that had obviously been recently wet, his build lithe, possibly athletic, but definitely not muscular.

“I was helping two little ones build a castle.”

His chuckle hinted at what was to come. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think more work is in order.”

“They’re seven and nine, and I’m about five sand castle building-wise.”

“What’s your hope for it then?”

“My hope is for rain tonight, so we’ll have more good sand tomorrow.”

“I think you may get your wish. And let me ask you something. Would you like some help?” His head was cocked to the side in almost a shrug.

Now I was getting a little uneasy. Despite his smile and the tone of his voice, I was not who I’d been just a week ago. I was “damaged” and very unsure of myself. Plus, I’d caught him several times checking out the extensive skin I was showing, thank you, Les. I was by myself, as well.

“So you want to play in the sand too?” If he proved not to be trustworthy, I could run to my room and hide.

“I have built a few sand castles, along with my brother and sister, in California.”

“I’ve seen pictures of some of those California sand castles from the contests they have there.”

“We did some of that,” he said a little shyly.

“Wait, you’ve built sand castles for those contests, and you’re offering to help me with this little pile of sand?”

“I’m here with my grandfather. The whole family rebelled when he wanted to come by himself, and I was drafted to have an all-expenses paid trip to the Dominican Republic. Here I am, offering my help because Grandpa wants to cruise the resort by himself.” He looked a little red-faced when he finished.

I chuckled. “Cruise the resort?”

“I know. He’s eighty-one and still chasing women. At twenty-six, I’m his chaperone.”

“Sounds like he’s quite a guy.”

“I hope I have that much energy when I’m his age.”

“How about you? What brought you to the Dominican Republic?” His head was cocked to the side as he asked.

Before long, everyone at the resort would know my tale of woe. I looked at Tim, at the glasses and the curly hair, but most of all at his eyes and face. Ugh, I knew I’d tell him. The usual deep breath kicked things off.

As I told Tim why I was there, the expression on his face changed so drastically I was looking to see if he had tears in his eyes.

“You are,” he began, his cheeks reddening, “and I’m not good at this, but you are gorgeous, and helping the kids says you’re a good person. How could someone just walk away from you?”

It had been an emotional few days, and although I was functioning and, I guess, appeared to be okay, I wasn’t. Far from it. And now, the double dose had me near tears.

“Sorry.”

“For telling me I’m gorgeous and that I don’t deserve to be treated that way?”

“No, for putting tears in your eyes.”

“Tim, I’ve had tears in my eyes most of the time since I got that call. It’s just nice to have someone feel the same way I do.”

“Are you sure?”

He looked at the pile of sand once again.

“Tomorrow then? And I’m Tim.”

“Joanne, but you can drop the Anne.”

“Jo, where are you from”?

“Ohio, and I’m surprised how many people here are from the US. Or at least sound like they are.”

“Some Canadians, too, but this place caters to that group. Probably half of the people here are from the US and Canada.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Tim took a couple of steps toward the ocean, looking uncertain, then turned toward me.

“What, um, what’s on your schedule for…now and today.”

I glanced at my chair. “Getting some sun and reading, I guess.”

Tim pointed skyward. “I don’t think you’re going to get much more sun, but if you stay in your chair, mother nature will provide a shower for you, which we actually want for the sand.”

“I don’t need that, for sure. Let me gather up my stuff.”

“I’ll help…if you’ll have lunch with me.”

I quickly looked at Tim, and the hopeful but innocent look on his face said something to me. It had been just a few days, but he looked, well, trustworthy, particularly when he’d push his glasses up on his nose.

“Okay, but only if I can change clothes.” I’d done what Les wanted, wearing the bikini, but I knew I’d be more comfortable in something that left a little more to the imagination.

He smiled, reset his glasses, and started toward the chair. I joined him, donned my coverup, and grabbed the Kindle. Tim took the backpack, and we headed for my building. Halfway there, the shower Tim had mentioned began in earnest. Our casual walk changed into a frenzied trot. At the building, we opened the glass door that provided a clear reflection of myself. It was not a picture I was anxious to see.

My hair was plastered to my head, the coverup to my body. Small rivulets of water were making their way down every square inch of exposed skin. Plus, I was panting from the run, which was doing interesting things with the bikini and my boobs. Of course, Tim could see it all, but he didn’t react.

“I’ll just wait downstairs,” he said, glancing into the lobby area.

I thought for just a moment. “Don’t be silly. Come up with me. I have lots of towels, and you can dry off a little.”

Despite still breathing hard, we decided to take the stairs to the third floor, not wanting to wet down the elevator.

“You go ahead,” I said.

“No, you go…”

With red cheeks, the very perceptive Tim stepped around me and moved quickly up the steps. At the third floor, he stepped aside and followed me to my room.

“Wow, this is nicer than our place,” he said, looking around. “Do you get this fruit every day?”

“I guess. I haven’t been here long enough to find out. But the thing I ate yesterday has been replaced. And there’s wine too.” I retrieved a big fluffy towel from the bathroom, tossed it to Tim, and closed the bedroom door. I wasn’t going to take the time to use a hair dryer or take the shower that would be nicely refreshing. I toweled my hair, brushed it, and created a soggy ponytail. Some shorts, a tank top, and I was ready.

Tim was sitting on the tile floor in the kitchen area, straightening the shirt he’d obviously wrung out in the sink. He gave me a nice smile, then a hopeless look.

“Will you be embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“I hope you’re kidding.”

That brought another smile, and we were off to lunch. Walking along with Tim reminded me that I had expected to be doing it with Tyson. A melancholy feeling began to overwhelm me until I suddenly realized that I was far better off than I would have been. Tim, who I barely knew, was better for me today than Tyson ever could be.

As we were seated for lunch, my cell phone rang. Les calling.

“This better be important because I’m ready to order lunch.”

“Not sure if it is or not. I’m with your dad, and it’s a letter addressed to you with Tyson’s return address.”

“Just throw it away.”

“Don’t you think you should find out what it is?”

“Not something from him.”

“It’s not a letter. It’s very thin, like a single sheet of something.”

“If I tell you to throw it away, you’ll open it and then throw it away,”

“Joanne, shame on you. I’m going to open it.”

I could hear paper tearing, then silence.

“Holy shit,” Les said softly.

“Bad?” I asked cautiously.

“Jo, it’s a check for fifteen thousand dollars.”

“What? Is that right?”

“It sure is. I’ve checked the number three times.”

Something dawned on me. “He said he’d send money to pay for stuff. What should I do with it?” I was in a fog.

“I’m going to run to the restroom,” Tim said, leaving quickly.

“Well, you have four bride’s maids who paid for their dresses and accessories.”

“And a mail of honor,” I added.

“There’ll probably be cancellation charges from other things too.”

“I’ll bet his father has no idea and would be really pissed if he knew Tyson had sent that check.”

“Yep, I think so. It’ll give you something to do when you get back.”

“I’ll need something.”

“How’s it going there? Anything exciting?”

I watched Tim heading back toward the table. “Nope, but if there is, I’ll let you know. It’s beautiful here, and my suite is amazing.”

“That’s great. Keep me posted.”

“Bye-bye, now.”

Tim sat down, the usual smile on his face.

“You didn’t need to leave.”

“I thought you might like to have a little privacy. Sounded like a personal matter.”

“A little, yeah, but it’s taken care of now.”

The look on his face told me he was about to say something unpleasant. Unpleasant in what way?

“Jo, I hate to do this, for myself at least, but I need to go and check up on Grandpa. He likes to roam and be by himself, but I’m here to kind of watch him, so…”

“Listen, I’ve enjoyed being with you, and I’m looking forward to learning about sand castles from an expert, but I don’t need to keep you if you have things to do.”

He stood. “Can’t wait till tomorrow. You take care now.”

“You too,” I answered and watched his eyes linger on my face. It was flattering to see and even feel, but I didn’t need that right this moment.

He walked away, glancing back at me and waving.

A glance at the window confirmed it was still raining, good for our sand pile but bad for reading on the beach. Back to my room was my choice, although there were shops I could visit. I made my way back to my building using overhangs and covered walkways to stay dry.

I settled into the very comfortable recliner, switched on the Kindle, and settled back to read. The room was perfectly quiet, the temperature ideal, and the whole situation as cozy as possible. Why was I having trouble concentrating on what I was reading?

I dropped the Kindle on my lap and stared out the window, the ocean a fuzzy blue through the moderately heavy rain. When I concentrated, I could make out its sound that I had missed before, probably on the roof above me. At home, I loved to sit on the porch and listen to the rain.

At home.

Home was seventeen-hundred miles away, and I was in a foreign country where I didn’t know anyone…except Tim, and I really didn’t know him. Maybe Lonny, too. And this was supposed to be the happiest time of my life.

The tears began.

I was lonely. I think the short time I’d spent with Tim emphasized how alone I was. Maybe I should call Les. Or Dad. He knows what lonely is after being without my mom for two years.

The tears didn’t last long. After all, I was twenty-five years old and should be able to handle the crap life throws at me. Les said that all that had happened would hit me full force one day, and it would be uphill after that. I hoped today was that day, but I doubted it.

I’d never had the hollow feeling I was experiencing now. I was even wishing that Tim could be here and realized how desperate I was. I wanted to be here and married to Tyson…except that’s the last thing I wanted now.

I stood and paced, gazing out each window in turn, hoping the waves and the ocean would calm me. Something was, but sitting and reading didn’t seem very attractive. Maybe shopping would help.

I was dressed, so I hurried downstairs, anxious to get started. Of course, it was still raining.

“¿Puedo ayudarla, señora?” a voice behind me said.

A tall man dressed in all white was smiling at me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…”

“Ah, Inglesa. May I help you?”

“I wanted to go shopping, but it’s still raining.”

When I looked back, he was returning with two umbrellas.

“That’s perfect,” I said, reaching for an umbrella.

He smiled. “I’ll walk you there, señorita, and leave an umbrella for you.”

“You don’t need to…” But I guess he did as he was ushering me out the door and raising the umbrella. He led me to another building, handed me the umbrella, and opened the other one.

“Good luck with your shopping, señorita.” He turned and was quickly gone.

I shook the umbrella and closed it, putting it into a rack by the door.

Of course, there were many racks of bikinis, which made me grin. I’d had to crank up my courage to wear the one I’d brought with me, but maybe I could get another with a little more material. A pretty blue one was my first purchase.

I’d debated about spending money, but the check from Tyson made the decision for me. Some shorts, a couple of blouses, and a pair of sandals completed my buying for the day.

Back at my building, a smile greeted me, and the umbrella was taken from me. Upstairs, I laid my purchases on the bed. Somehow, the blue bikini kept drawing my attention. I decided to try it on. I’d purchased it without trying it on, being told I could return it if there was a problem.

I stripped, ready to try on the bikini, but instead looked at myself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. I didn’t do that often as I didn’t think I was anything special.

I was just five-foot-three but wore a C-cup bra, and Les always told me that was good, whatever good meant. I had to chuckle. I was naked, and if I wanted, I could go down the back stairway, out into the rain, and run to the beach naked, and no one would see me as everyone was staying inside. I only saw two people out when I went to the shops. A naked swim in the ocean, but if I did it, who would believe me?

I checked the mirror and thought I saw scarlet cheeks just from thinking about that. Even though I was far from home where no one knew me, it wasn’t going to happen.

I tried on the blue bikini, and it looked good. I looked good. Tyson, look what you missed, I thought. And that thought seemed to bring me back to earth and to being Joanne again.

But skinny dipping in the ocean was something I’d keep in mind, and if the situation presented itself…

I think Tyson was making me crazy, and he wasn’t even here. Could he be gaslighting me remotely?

Maybe I just needed to settle back in the recliner and read. I actually did that for a while, the sound of the rain causing me to doze for I don’t know how long. But it was time for dinner, and I was mildly hungry.

The rain had finally stopped, but there were still dark clouds overhead. I hurried to a building where the restaurant with American food was housed. Maybe something familiar would help. I’d checked at the desk and found I had nearly three thousand dollars left in my miscellaneous account. I’d forgotten about that when I’d gone shopping and used my credit card. What I didn’t know was whether what was left would be given to me or would be returned to Tyson.

If I spent it all, it wouldn’t matter. I stopped outside the restaurant and used the calculator on the phone. A little division told me that I had about two hundred fifty dollars a day to spend. I wasn’t sure I could do that, but I didn’t want the money to go to Tyson. I must be at the anger/bitterness stage of what was happening and my recovery.

I ordered a steak, medium, steak fries, and spinach. I like spinach, and the server seemed surprised to hear me order it. Everything was good if a delicious dinner by yourself can be good.

I was back in my room, settled in for an evening of reading and maybe some TV. I was anticipating tomorrow with Tim and the two little ones and building the sand castle. When I turned on my phone to text Les, it was still on the calculator, which gave me an idea. If I needed to spend money, maybe I could get rid of a little of it at one of the bars. I think there were several around.

Shorts and the tank top seemed appropriate. Or maybe I should wear slacks and a shirt so I’d show less skin. The last thing I wanted was to have a man ogling me.

I changed and left the room.

I checked with the concierge, who was happy to recommend a night spot for me. A five-minute walk, and I was there. There were lots of people, mostly groups and couples, but lots of laughter and chatter made it kind of appealing.

I sat at a table close to one of the groups, hoping that I might be a part of the group…without being part of the group. I ordered wine, not wanting to be too adventurous, and sipped it, taking in what people were saying. It wasn’t personal information, so I didn’t feel bad listening in.

I was halfway through my second glass when one of the older ladies in the group turned toward me.

“Dear, are you here by yourself?”

No use denying it. “Yes, I am.”

“Well, pull your chair over here and join us,” she said, clearing room for me at their table.

“I don’t want to interpret,” I said, mostly a formality since joining them seemed like it might be fun.

The lady just motioned for me to come on over, so I did, thanking them profusely.

Turns out it was a father and mother and their four children, two of whom had mates, one had a girlfriend, and the fourth was by himself. Of course, I was sitting beside the single male, which I hoped wouldn’t become awkward. They introduced themselves as the Kennedy family, Guy being the, well, guy sitting next to me.

“And I’m Joanne Kilbride.”

“Irish all around–name, red hair, and freckles,” someone called out.

I was enjoying being with the Kennedys, and Guy was very soft-spoken and almost shy. A couple of times, he whispered an explanation of the subject being discussed. I think he noticed that my glass was empty.

“Would you like a Mai Tai cocktail?” he whispered.

“Don’t know what it is,” I whispered back, our faces way too close together. I was still on the very wary side of things.

“Um, it just tastes good.”

I giggled, a sign I should have recognized but obviously didn’t.

“Okay, and are you having one?”

He hesitated.

“Put it on my bill,” I insisted.

We argued quietly until he agreed, and I signed with my room number.

The two drinks arrived, and we each took a sip. It didn’t taste like anything I’d ever had before. The second sip showed me it was more than lime juice, and I felt a small burning sensation as I swallowed. I felt more relaxed than I had since Tyson’s call.

Not sipping now, it wasn’t long before my glass was empty, and I was having a lot of difficulty focusing my eyes. I remember Guy asking me about my room, and I dug the key from my pocket. There was a man on each side of me, too, as I made my way back to my building and to my room. One of them unlocked the door and helped me get inside.

“Will you be okay now?” Guy asked, sounding concerned.

“Oh yeah, I’m good,” I said, not good at all.

The situation was more than a little awkward–I recognized that even in my inebriated condition. I just wanted them to leave.

They helped me to the couch and left. I somehow got to the bedroom, stripped, and climbed into bed. I giggled to myself at the thought of sleeping naked.

*****

The “building a sand castle” morning arrived, and I felt miserable. I hoped I hadn’t made a fool of myself the previous night but was still anxious to get to the beach. We hadn’t set a time to meet, so I went groggily to breakfast but felt better after oatmeal and orange juice.

A little better.

I tried to walk as smoothly and carefully as I could since my head sensed each jolt. I’d packed two bottles of water in my bag, and I should have had some Alka-Selzwe Hangover Relief in there as well.

Not surprisingly, Tim was at the sand pile already and looked happy to see me.

“We never set a time, so I was hoping you’d get here before noon,” he laughed.

“Well, I decided to head to the bar last night and had some wine and a Mai Tai, so…”

Another smile. “So you’d like it if I speak softly.”

“It’s not quite that bad, but I’m anxious to build a sand castle. I hope our two accomplices show up soon so they can enjoy it too.”

“We’ll work on the castle for a while, and then…do you like to swim?”

“I do like to swim,” I admitted.

“I often go for an hour’s swim in the ocean. Maybe we can do that sometime today.”

“I swam in high school, but I don’t think I’m ready for an hour in the ocean, at least until the effects of the Mai Tai are totally gone.”

But now I recognized that lithe look that Tim had. It was a swimmer’s body, not muscular but toned and sleek. An hour in the ocean? He was obviously into his swimming much more so than I was.

“Come on,” he encouraged. “We’ll do this for a while, then swim, and finally, I’ll do Joanne in sand.”

I think I looked a little puzzled.

“I’ll create a sand sculpture of Joanne.”

“Tim, we just need a sand castle for the kids, and here they come now.”

“We’ll have both.”

The two kids were obviously excited, and Mom looked interested too. She settled her chair a little ways from us and began to read, glancing over often to see how the sand sculpture was progressing.

Tims’s work fit the classic tale of how this was done perfectly. He simply removed all of theh sand that didn’t look like a sand castle and left the rest. I marveled at the deftness which he displayed doing it and knew it came from lots of experience doing the same thing. By close to noon, it was a classic if uncomplicated sand castle that captured the youngsters completely.

“You guys play carefully now so you don’t damage anything,” Mom cautioned as she stood gazing at the creation. “That’s amazing,” she said to Tim, and I agreed.

“Time for our swim,” he said, a huge smile on his face.

“Are you sure you want to put up with me? You’re obviously a dedicated swimmer.”

“I’m not prepping for any competition, so I can swim as much or little as I want.”

I studied his face, his stance, and his demeanor. I’d be here for two weeks, and I didn’t know how long Tim might be here too. This was a little like summer camp where you met guys that you’d never see again. But I still wasn’t ready for anything even a little like summer camp. I was just lonely, and Tim was a pleasant enough guy. I sighed.

“Let me go put on a bathing suit, and I’ll meet you here in thirty minutes.”

“Fair enough. We’ll swim, and then I’m sure you’ll be hungry.”

Swimming, eating, and then sculpting me in sand. Tim had my entire day pretty well planned. I suspected he was doing it this more subtle way since he knew I’d probably reject any request he made that would seem like a date. If he was, I think he was right about my refusing a date.

It was less than a week since my life had been twisted around by Tyson, and I was questioning everything I did. Was I so desperate for an ego boost that I was using Tim rather than just enjoying his company? Plus, Tim knew my story, and I prayed he respected it.

My brain was in overdrive, and I realized I’d walked right past my building. I shifted into a hurried reverse and raced to my room. In the elevator, I made the decision to wear the new blue bikini. I stripped, put it on, checked the mirror, and hurried back to where Tim was waiting.

“I’m glad you’re back. Hold still while I stare at your face. No, no, don’t look so surprised. I need a natural look.”

How could I look natural with Tim staring at me so intently? But I tried.

“Thanks, and I think I’m off to a doodle start.” He pointed to the sand adjacent to the castle.

I took a couple of steps and looked. “How did you do that?”

Tim smiled. “Well, I–”

“–And if you say you just removed the sand that didn’t look like Joanne, I’ll hit you with my bag.”

“I did pretty well working from memory, didn’t I?”

Tim looked very proud, and rightfully so. He’d sculpted my face, about twice life-size, and there was no doubt that it was me. I couldn’t stop looking at it.

“After the swim and lunch, I’ll add more to it.”

I tried to picture what he was talking about and wasn’t sure I was ready to see that. I mean, I certainly wasn’t a double D, but my boobs, double-sized, would be large mounds on the beach. We’d have to discuss it after lunch.

Tim was waving at me to follow him. I took about two minutes to smear on some sunscreen and had no choice but to beckon to Tim to do my back. Unless I wanted to backstroke all the way, it would be my back that was toward the sun.

Now we crossed the sand and were in the water with only gentle rollers washing against us. When we were waist deep, Tim just lay down on the water and began to swim. I quickly followed and was keeping up, but only by expending twice the energy he was using.

The third time we stopped to tread water, we decided to head back, and I hoped I’d make it. With Tim’s help, I did. All I wanted was to lie down. Tim, bless his heart, spread his blanket, and a panting redhead collapsed onto it. He sat beside me, looking worried.

“I apologize to you, Jo. When I realized I’d gone too far, I could have kicked myself. You stay right here, and I’ll bring lunch to you.”

I couldn’t argue and gave him my room number to pay, explaining about the fund I needed to deplete. He disappeared, and I watched the few people still on the beach. Many had gone to lunch, I was sure. I listened carefully and heard Spanish and French being spoken along with an unrecognized European language. I knew I was fortunate to find the English speakers I’d been with.

Tim was back with a hamburger for me, which was very good, and what were touted as French fries, which were soggy and not a bit tasty, which I related to Tim when he asked.

“I was afraid of that,” he said, curling his lip. “And I see what you mean.”

We finished the burgers and nibbled a few fries, then dumped the rest in the trash can.

“I feel like I should put up a tent over the castle and you so the rain won’t ruin it.”

I grabbed my phone. “I’m taking some photos so people will believe me when I get home.”

“How long are you here?”

“Two weeks, and I think one might be enough. How about you?”

“Gramps and I are heading home on Saturday. It’s a long trip, so I’m not looking forward to it.”

I looked at Tim, debating. “Let’s exchange cell numbers, so you can send me pictures of your sand sculptures.”

“Great idea. And I don’t want to get too personal, but after what you’ve been through, I’d love to hear how things turn out.”

“I’m not sure that will be too interesting, but it’s sure no problem.” Since I had my phone out, Tim gave me his number; I entered it and then called him. “All set.”

“Thanks. I think you’ll enjoy some of the sand stuff, and not necessarily mine. Some of the people earn their summer living winning those contests. Amazing stuff.”

“What I’ve seen of yours is pretty amazing. Good luck for your summer. And now I think I’ll head to my room and probably take a nap.”

“Sorry I wore you out on that swim. I get going and forget about everything.”

“It looks to me like you do it so easily you could be a competitive swimmer.”

“That takes way too much work. I’m still enjoying the swimming, and that’s enough for me. I don’t want that to change.”

“I’ll probably be seeing you later, so take it easy.”

“You too, and have a good nap.”

I took a very pleasant nap of just over an hour, showered, and dressed to do a little more shopping. I inquired and found that the resort would ship things home for me as long as I bought enough and purchased it at any of their shops. That was a relief as I was afraid I’d be buying lots of jewelry since it would be small and easy to carry home. No holds barred now, so I could buy, buy, buy. And I did.

I went to dinner at a different restaurant and, once again, a group of people, seeing me sitting alone, invited me to join them. They were from Puerto Rico and had come to Hispaniola on a large boat that one of them owned. I found it was only about eighty miles and took just a few hours. They enjoyed practicing their English on me, and we laughed a lot.

Back in my room, I found I was still tired from my day, so I finished my first book, then went to bed.

I was up early on Tuesday and received a text from Tim saying he and his grandpa were headed to town for the day. Grandpa wanted to see everything there was to see, and Tim included, in parenthesis, women, which made me laugh.

In the evening, he texted that they’d had a great time and I should take time to see the town before I went home. Since I knew the resort had a shuttle, I told him I thought I’d go on Wednesday. Since the resort wouldn’t be shipping things from the town, I decided it would be a good time to buy my jewelry and gifts for friends. I counted on the check from Tyson to help cover those costs.

Today, for some reason, the weight of what had happened just a week ago hit me. What the hell was wrong with me that going to Finland was better than being married to me? I’d had other guys chase after me, but Tyson had seemed to be special and had told me many times that I was very special. I’d found that Tyson was special, but his specialty was cruelty and indifference.

I kept looking at myself in the mirror, wondering. I did manage to get breakfast…at nearly eleven-thirty and then returned to my room.

Tim texted, asking what I was up to, and I told him I had a few things to do and that I’d see him tomorrow since that would be his last day here. I tried to read and managed to take a walk around the grounds. I ate alone, returned to my room, and cried at the futility of my day and my life. I fell asleep curled up on the couch.

I awoke stiff and sore but, unexplainably, feeling better. Ready for breakfast, I received a text from Tim saying he wanted to take a last swim before heading home and asked if I’d consider going with him. After all the kindness he’d shown me, there was no way I’d refuse his request.

In the blue bikini once again, I met him at the beach.

“I haven’t seen you for two days. Did you get all of your stuff done yesterday?” he asked innocently, that contagious smile on his face.

A feeling of guilt swept over me, but his question sparked my thinking. A deeper deep breath this time. It was difficult to look at him as I asked my question very nervously.

“Do you think I’m attractive, a nice person?”

After a moment’s pause, he said, “Does this have anything to do with the swim since I knew you’d wear that bikini?”

I chuckled, knowing he’d recognized my tension, and was successful in helping me to relax.

“Yes,” he said, “you are both of those and be assured of that. I’m sure that most of the males in the world would agree with me.”

“You’re very kind. I had a bad day yesterday.”

“I think that none of your days lately have been what you expected them to be, but I also think, despite that, you’re a delightful person to be around.”

“May I give you a hug?”

Tim’s turn to chuckle. “By all means.”

We stood for five seconds, arms around each other, then parted.

“I meant exactly what I said, Jo. I’ve had a couple of casual girlfriends, but I’ve never been married or as close as you were. You’re not only attractive and nice, but you’re also strong and resilient.”

“You’ve made my day, Tim.”

“Just trying to pump you up for the swim.” The demure smile I received was priceless.

“Yes, the swim. And I wish I were pumped up. It would surely make the swimming easier.”

“I’m just trying to get you interested in swimming again. It’s a great conditioner and easy on your body.”

“I’m sure I’ll be needing something very soon.”

“No more stalling. Let’s go.”

I was a little more ready this time, at least mentally, and as we stroked off, I knew that, rather than me trying to keep up, he was dropping back to keep pace with me. It was relaxing, and it was difficult not to be jealous of the ease Tim showed in his swimming.

“How ya doing?”

“A lot better than last time.”

“Good. You need to be well-rested when we go to dinner.”

“You’re awfully confident.”

“Okay. Will you please go to dinner with me?”

“Let me think a moment.”

“While you’re thinking,” he said, and I was under the water, arms and legs flailing. He had my arms and was holding me so my head was now above the water.

“Made your decision yet?

I laughed out loud. “To preserve my life, I accept.”

We swam back to our beach, decided our meet time, and I headed to my room and showered. For some reason, the ocean seemed to create a nap need, so I slept for two hours, read, dressed in shorts and a blouse, and went downstairs to meet Tim.

Not surprisingly, he was waiting for me and offered his arm.

“This is formal informality,” l said as I took hold of his arm.

“And I’m paying,” he said very decisively.

“Tim, please, no. I still have a ton of money to get rid of.”

“You can spend it when you get home.”

“I’m not sure whether what’s left will be returned to me or to Tyson. I may have to check with the resort to find out.”

I was beginning to wonder if my insistence on paying for everything, particularly with Tim, was less about using up the money than appearing as if it might be a date. I mean, he was leaving tomorrow, so it didn’t really matter much now, and I considered him as a new friend I’d met who’d been wonderful company during this week. Plus, he’d not really shown any sign that he considered me as anything more than a friend.

Tim finally agreed that I could pay, much to my relief as I wasn’t looking forward to verbal sparing while we were seated at the restaurant.

“You know what,” I said, a little surprised at myself. “I’ve never asked what you do for a living.”

Tim smiled. “You really want to know? You may think less of me if I tell you.”

“I don’t think there’s any danger of that. I’m really curious. When you’re back in California, I need to be able to picture what you might be doing if I’m texting you or something.”

Or something? What did I mean by that? Sometimes I think I just open my mouth, and words come out, and I have no idea where they’ve come from.

“I’m an artist,” he said simply.

“I already knew that,” I said with a chuckle. “What kind of artist?”

“Freelance. I paint murals, do some portrait work, and I’m able to sell a few things in a little gallery that displays my work. And that gives me the freedom to do the sand sculpture contests during the summer.”

“That must be kind of exciting being able to just wing it all the time.”

“It is, in a way. It’s allowed me to come here with Grandpa and have a very different kind of week. And I met you, and that’s been fun too. I hope I haven’t annoyed you too much with the sculpting and the swimming.” He looked a little embarrassed when he added “swimming” there at the end.

“Not in the least. And I have photos of the castle…and Joanne in sand to show when I get back home. I’ve learned a lot.”

“And when I get home, I can tell my friends that I met one of the strongest and most resilient women I’ve ever come across.”

I think I cringed a little when he said that. He hadn’t seen me hiding in my room and crying yesterday. Maybe I was just adept at putting up a good front.

“I know we’ve only known each other for a week, and we’re not family or anything, but I just have to say that I’m proud of you and the way you’re handling things. Coming here to the Dominican Republic had to be difficult.”

“Without Les’s pushing, I’d never have done it.”

“You did it, though, and thank Les for me when you get home.”

“I will, for sure.”

“Now, what do you do for a living?”

“Nothing like being an artist, for sure. I’m a pharmacist.”

“Helping people. That sounds like you.”

Thank goodness our dinners arrived, as I was very uncomfortable talking about myself.

We ate and talked some more and finally left the restaurant.

“Grandpa wants to get everything ready tonight, so I need to go back and help, much as I’d enjoy spending a little more time with you.”

“It’s been great, Tim, and I wish you the very best of luck in your contests and in your artwork.”

“The best to you, too, as you get home and dive back into your life. Good things are waiting for you, Jo.”

Tim’s arms were extended, and mine went around him as we hugged for the final time. He gave me a last squeeze and stepped back.

“Keep in touch.”

“You too,” I answered, watching as he turned and walked away. I was sure my last week would be different from the first.

*****

The next week, which I had anticipated would be an exciting adventure, being by myself in a foreign country with money to spend and time to fill, turned out to be a very boring week, spiced up only by my purchases. I had slowed down on the buying since the resort had told me that anything left in the expense fund would be returned to me, Tyson having left no other instructions.

Having said that, there was one thing that was exciting but of the wrong sort of excitement.

Saturday had dawned at eight in the morning for me. I’d slept fitfully, possibly in anticipation of the next week, but more likely worrying what I’d do without Tim there to entertain me. I was sure I’d get used to the idea of him being gone, and I remembered those week-long summer camps I’d attended as a teen. I’d always teamed up with a boy the first day, we’d spent a lot of our time together, we’d sneaked off and hugged and kissed a little on the last two days, and then we’d parted, exchanging texts and emails for a few weeks, and then forgetting all about each other.

I wasn’t a teen any longer, but suspected that would be the case now too, and I wondered if I’d meet someone else I’d bond with, marry, and we’d have children together. That was my hope, and thoughts like that filled my mind for that second week.

The unanticipated excitement happened on Saturday night when I’d decided, what the heck, I’d go to the bar, have a couple of drinks and probably talk to a few people as often happened in bars, and then go to my room to finish off the night with some wine. At twenty-five, getting drunk in this situation would be something I would remember, I hoped, in the future.

The bar wasn’t crowded since Saturday was the day people left the resort to return home, and Sunday was the day new people arrived. Only multiple-week people were around on Saturday night.

I debated about sitting at the bar or taking a table, finally deciding on the latter. The Mai Tai I’d had my last time here had been good, so that’s what I ordered. I knew it would have me well-buzzed very quickly.

A couple of people had stopped by to talk with me, asking about where I was from and if I was having a good time, even suggesting things I might be interested in doing. One mentioned that there were massages available, and since I’d never had one, I had two before I went home, vowing there’s be more of them once I was in Ohio.

I was debating ordering another drink, possibly something besides a Mai Tai when I sensed someone standing beside me.

When I looked up, he said, “Your glass is nearly empty. Name your poison, and I’ll bring a refill.”

“I was just debating that myself,” I replied to a fairly handsome and fortyish-looking man who was gazing down at me.

“If you’re game to drinking something that’s a beautiful blue color, how about a Blue Hawaiian?”

“I probably had blue Kool-Aid when I was little, but nothing since.” Foolishly I said, “Okay, I’m game.”

He was back in five minutes with two very blue drinks.

“You said it was a Blue Hawaiian, but what is it, really?”

A gentle laugh preceded his answer. “I think it’s coconut rum, along with blue Curacoa liquor and some other stuff for flavor. I’ve had them a couple of times, and they’re different from whatever it was you’ve been drinking.”

“Mai Tai.”

He nodded. “Yep, different.”

I took a taste. It was different, and I think I felt a jolt when I swallowed.

I smiled. “Tastes good but wow.”

“Do you know that only about two percent of the world’s population are redheads?”

A little random, but I replied, “I knew it was small, but not that small.”

“I guess I’m honored to be sitting here with someone as rare as you are.”

I blinked. That was a new line for sure, but he was trying, I guess.

I did chuckle. “Just being in the right place at the right time.”

“And I certainly am that. You’re very pretty as well.”

I took another drink of the blue stuff. I wasn’t sure I was ready to fend off this guy. It wasn’t fair that he’d gotten me the blue drink, knowing that I’d already had something else too.

I shrugged. “Thanks. That and three bucks will get you coffee at Starbucks.”

“And it’s gotten you a Blue Hawaiian here in the Dominican Republic.”

“I guess so,” I replied, taking another big sip. I was sure I felt a jolt that time.

“I see you’re here for the next week, too. At least the next week,” he added.

“Just that.”

“Good. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

Although I was beginning to have trouble focusing my eyes, I did a quick check of his ring finger and thought there was a ring of lighter-colored skin near the top. It was difficult to tell, though.

A few more minutes of sipping and innocuous conversation, and I knew I was in trouble.

In slightly slurred speech, I asked, “Can you help me? I’m sure I’ll have trouble getting to my room.”

“I’m sorry. Sure, I’ll be glad to help.”

He stood, and I took his hand, standing very unsteadily, finally just leaning against him. The server appeared, and he signed to bill, paying for my Mai Tai as well,l I guessed.

We stumbled out of the bar together.

“Want to just go to my place?” he asked quietly.

Those words helped shake me out of my stupor. “No thanks. Just get me to my building.”

As we approached my building, he asked, “What floor are you on?”

“Just get me inside.”

At least he didn’t argue with me, I think anticipating he’d take me to my room.

Once inside, I gestured to the security man who came right over, I think recognizing me from my many ins and outs of the building.

“Could you help me to my room? I’ve had a little too much to drink, and this gentleman has been kind enough to bring me here.” A fairly long speech for the condition I was in.

“My pleasure, ma’am, and thank you very much, sir.”

Handsome and fortyish disappeared out the door, and I was taken to my room and helped inside.

“Thank you, and I’m good now,” I said.

“Very good, then. And you might want to be careful. A lone woman far from home, you know.”

“You’re right, and it won’t happen again.”

And it didn’t.

On Tuesday, while walking to the beach, I saw Handsome and fortyish walking toward me, a very attractive woman in a white bathing suit with him. I presented him with a half-smile, and he nodded but didn’t say anything. I suspected he had a gold band on that ring finger this time.

Later that day, I had my first massage and vowed it wouldn’t be my last. Thursday’s massage validated my vow. There’d be more back in Ohio, for sure.

I’d received two texts from Tim, one saying he’d arrived safely in California and the second telling me he’d be sculpting sand while I was flying home from the Dominican Republic. I was anxious to see photos.

On Saturday morning, I set my carefully packed luggage outside the door, ready for the airport shuttle, which I boarded soon after. The airport was a pain, as they all tend to be these days, but the flight was uneventful, which was fine with me. I wasn’t anticipating all of the condolences I knew I’d be receiving once back in Ohio, but I’d deal with them.

Les was right–the two weeks away had been entertaining and distracting, which I think was very important. I’d received six hundred dollars from the expense fund, which would be fun to spend, knowing its source. I watched out the window as the plane glided down over familiar territory. I was home.

*****

Les and my father met me, each helping to haul my luggage to the car.

“In twenty-five words or less, how was it?” Les asked.

“It was good, and you were right in insisting that I go.”

“As long as it was good for you, I’m not worried about being right. The pictures you sent looked great. Beautiful room, sunshine, blue ocean. And speaking of sunshine, you look you you got a little tan.”

“I tried to be careful, and I think it worked. Wait till the shipment arrives.” I was giggling as I said that.

“Shipment?”

“Yeah, there was an expense fund that Tyson had created, and I wasn’t sure where what was left would go, so I tried to spend as much as I could, and the resort agreed to ship whatever I bought from them. It should be here in a couple of days.”

“You spent it all?” Les and Dad were both laughing hard at that.

“No, and what was left was mine, so I have a nice slush fund to be silly with.”

Finally at my place, we unpacked the car. Dad had places to go, and Les had more questions.

“Before you start, let me show you something.” I pulled up the photo of the sand castle and Joanna in sand and showed it to Les.

“Are you kidding me? Is that sand, or just you plastered with sand?”

“It’s just sand. This guy I met, Tim, is from California and enters contests there. He did the castles and me.”

“I think you mentioned Tim a couple of times.”

I knew I’d been frugal with my mentions of Tim in both texts and emails with Les because I didn’t want questions that I didn’t have answers for.

“He’s promised to send pictures of some of his stuff from the contests he enters.”

“Nice. Tell me about some of the stuff you did while you were there for TWO weeks.”

I covered my activities fairly thoroughly, skipping the two late-night and dead-drunk episodes. Maybe I’d share those later. We talked for a couple of hours, and life seemed to be normal again.

Of course, at work, I got lots of “sorry” and pats on the back. But it was good to be there again, with people I knew and felt comfortable with.

I think I’d moved quickly through the denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and was finally in the acceptance stage of my grief process. Knowing what a crud-ball Tyson and his family had been and were, I felt relieved that I had somehow evaded being swallowed up in something I would have regretted forever.

I found a masseuse and scheduled weekly visits, even though a couple of my coworkers suggested a masseur might be more exciting. That was the kind of excitement I didn’t need right now. But the time I spent with her was satisfying and very relaxing, and I seemed to feel better for days after each one.

One of our pharmacists had resigned, and I guess the owner of the pharmacy was having trouble finding a replacement, so I was busier than normal, which was fine with me.

Les had many other friends, several of which seemed to be unattached males close to my age. I was shown photos, given descriptions, and encouraged to go ahead and take a chance with one of them, meaning to say yes if they asked me for a date. I threatened her with beheading if she mentioned me to any of them with my permission.

I knew that I was attractive, as Tim had mentioned, and guys seemed to like me and flirt with me whenever they had a chance, so why was I so hesitant and even reluctant to take a chance?

I finally agreed and had a date with number one and then number two. I’m sure it was just me because they seemed to have a much better time than I did, and there were no second dates. Nothing about them seemed special or had my heart beating faster.

I was working on a flower bed by my front porch when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned quickly and nearly fainted.

“What…?” was all I could get out.

“I couldn’t get you out of my mind, so I decided to take a chance.”

“How did you find me?”

“There are no secrets on the internet…and can I have a hug?”

I jumped up, and for the third time in my life, Tim’s arms were wrapped around me and mine around him. I closed my eyes and buried my head against his chest. I could feel my heart pounding. After long moments, I raised my head.

“How did you get here?”

“Airplane and Uber.”

His suitcase was sitting on the sidewalk. I think my eyes suddenly widened.

“Don’t jump to any conclusions,” he said. “I’m here for two weeks, and we can figure out some arrangements.”

There were words in my head, surprising words that I wasn’t used to and had really never thought about.

“You can stay here,” I blurted out before common sense took over.

Tim just looked at me. “Do you think that’s best, Jo?”

“I don’t know if it’s the best, but I said it, didn’t I?”

“You did, and if you’re absolutely certain, I’ll do it, and it will help with what I’m here to do.”

This was certainly a surprise. What was he here to do, and why hadn’t he let me know ahead of time?

“And what is that?”

“First, let me say that I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d think it was silly and would say no.” He had a very serious look on his face.

“Tim, what are you up to?”

“Two things. I’m here to sculpt a new Joanne in sand, only the sand will be mixed with concrete, and it will be a life-size statue…in color.”

“Tim, that almost doesn’t seem reasonable.”

He laughed. “If you were inside my head, it would be perfectly reasonable.”

Now it was my turn to stare at him. I could only imagine one reason for his saying those things, and I suppose it wasn’t a total surprise. I smiled, and his returning smile warmed me more than expected.

“You haven’t asked about the second thing,” he said, lowering one eyelid.

“What if I don’t ask?” I teased.

“I can be very patient,” he responded.

“Can you really?”

“Give me a chance, and you’ll find out.”

How patient was he? I wondered. He was the Tim I’d spent some wonderful time with just a few weeks ago, and now he was here and would be staying in my house.

“What’s number two, then?”

His deep breath alerted me that this was not a simple thing.

“I don’t know how this can happen, but I’m anxious for you to come to California.”

When I hesitated, he continued.

“I want you to watch me creating sand sculptures. I want to create you in sand, with you right beside it…and beside me.”

He was making things clearer with each word he spoke, and I was hearing it just as clearly.

“All of that is pretty ambitious, Tim. How long are you staying in Ohio?”

“As long as it takes.”

A cryptic answer from my house guest that could be understood several ways. The thing that seemed clearest was that Tim’s heart wanted my heart. And I was in the unique position of loving Tim as a friend but not being “in love” with him. At least yet.

“Grab your suitcase, and let’s get started, then.” That was as direct as I could be, and I hoped he’d understand.

We settled him into the larger of the guest bedrooms, which happened to be adjacent to mine. I hoped he didn’t snore.

“I enjoy cooking,” he said succinctly.

“Good. I need to figure out how to have you do that full-time.”

“Try asking.”

“Tim, don’t do that to me on your first day here.” I was partly teasing and partly serious.

I could see the uncertainty on his face. “Come here,” I said.

He stood in front of me.

“Closer.”

He moved so that his body was touching mine. The sensations from his touch were amazing and unexpected.

Tim, you’re here and touching me, so very, very close to me, and yet, in some ways, while you’re here, a part of you is still in California.”

“I know this isn’t just a trip, Jo, but a journey. Journeys can take a long time to complete, but if you’re faithful and stick to it, what you find at the end makes the journey more than worthwhile. I understand what you’ve just said, and I knew that when I stepped onto the plane this morning. But I’m here, on my journey, and enjoying it so far.”

I knew I was on a journey as well, or at least beginning one. The sensations I was feeling with Tim’s body touching mine told me that a part of my journey had begun. I could only hope that the rest of me might catch up if that was meant to be.

To prevent the neighbors from gawking and crowds from gathering, I talked Tim into doing the sculpture in the backyard. He had sand delivered, we went to the hardware store in the evening and purchased cement, then to the art section of the craft store to pick up some paint. He was ready.

We discussed at length how I would appear in the sculpture, and Tim was surprisingly adamant about what he wanted. Since he was the artist and I was just the model, I gave in and posed for a round of photographs he could reference. My one stipulation was that I would be in the blue bikini rather than the green one, and there were no other choices than that.

I went to my job and was anxious to return home to see how he was progressing. I marveled at the progress and was astounded by the colors he was able to create in the concrete. By Friday evening, it was complete.

“Tim, it’s amazing. What shall I do with it?”

He laughed. “You have to decide that. I’ll help with whatever you decide.”

I wasn’t about to display Joanne in a blue bikini in the front yard, but it did give me an idea. Tim had been here for a week, and each evening we sat and talked. No TV, no books, just conversation. I so enjoyed it that I could easily picture myself doing it for the rest of my life. There were other things as well, but I was ready to press things a little.

“I’m trying to decide, Tim. Lots of possibilities, but maybe in the front yard.”

“The front yard. Are you serious?”

“Well, look at it.”

“I made it, so I know what it looks like.”

“It looks like me, and I look hot.”

“I just made it look like you.”

“With it in the front yard, guys will see it, and some may stop to talk.”

Tim’s expression began to change as I locked eyes with him.

“I might be able to connect with one of them.” I forced a smile onto my face.

“Jo.”

I could tell he was struggling internally. He looked away and then back to me while I waited.

“I don’t want that to happen.”

“Which, Tim?”

“All of what you said.”

I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. “Why’s that?”

“Jo, this is difficult.”

“You flew here from California to see me. Now tell me why you don’t want those things to happen.”

He looked hard at me but spoke softly. “If you connect with anyone, I want it to be me.”

“Why was that so difficult to say?” I asked, extending my arms.

He moved to me quickly, and we hugged, not passionately but warmly.

“Because it scares me, Jo.”

“I’m five-foot-three and not very scary.”

“You’re redheaded, gorgeous, and just a few weeks ago, you were ready to walk down the aisle and be a Mrs. Someone.”

“That’s exactly right. I went to the resort and met you and decided you were a neat guy.”

“I met you there, and things happened inside me, but I was afraid to let it show.”

“You weren’t totally successful. But why were you afraid?”

“Jo, you were one or two days past when you were to be a bride.” He seemed almost exasperated that I was missing something.

“And I was glad that I had missed it.”

The familiar deep breath. “I didn’t want you to be…well, on the rebound.”

I’d heard of that and knew a little of how it worked. “So you’re afraid that the way I feel about you might be because of emotional neediness or something like that.”

“I just knew, somehow, that you’d be perfect for me. You fit the picture I’d always had in my mind. And when you showed interest, half of me was over the moon while the other half was panicked. Losing you was something I couldn’t even imagine.”

Losing me? I knew that, even without having me, it was possible for him to lose me when he went home to Cali and I went to Ohio. We had only hugged twice as friends, but the warmth that had coursed through my body was more than simple friendship.

“You’re here, Tim, so you haven’t lost me.”

“Our time together could almost be expressed as hours rather than days or weeks, and that’s why this week has been so priceless. Just you and me talking, eating together, sleeping together.”

“In separate rooms,” I added, although his face was saying he wished that could be different. We weren’t quite ready for that yet, even though my mind was doing its best to picture that. My clock wasn’t ticking yet, but…

“We have a lot of things we can talk about during this next week.”

“And we need to start it the right way.” I took three steps, put my hands on his shoulders, and rose onto tiptoes. My lips were inches from his.

“If we do this, I’m a dead duck, you know.”

“What will I be?”

“I know what I’d like you to be.”

“Too much talk.”

When our lips met, I knew what I wanted to be as well. It was twenty seconds of something I’d never felt with Tyson. Feelings were unleashed that I had no idea were hidden inside me. Tim’s little groan didn’t help at all.

“You’re more than I ever imagined,” Tim said, “and that’s why it’s all so scary. On top of that, you have every reason to be afraid as well.”

He was right, but I wasn’t feeling anything like that. Somehow Tim seemed to be wide open, while Tyson had seemed mostly hidden. In the space of a few weeks, my life had taken a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn.

*****

The next week was something difficult to describe. Being with Tim was exhilarating and comforting at the same time. When he looked at me, the adoration was so apparent, I had trouble concentrating on what he was saying. The other side of that was the caution he showed when he was around me.

I wanted to be touching him, to have his arms holding me, to hear his voice in my ear, and, most of all, to feel his lips against mine. The latter happened, but on a little too much of a schedule to suit me. A small one when I left for work, a more lengthy one when I came home, and a more meaningful one when we separated for bed.

In my heart, I knew Tim was already in love with me, and I was as certain as I could be that I loved him. It had come up before, but he finally shared with me two stories that were hauntingly similar. They involved a family member and a friend who each had a secret love, one was engaged to someone else, and the other was in a long-term relationship. When each one’s lover dumped them, the family member and friend were there to take over, but only briefly as their secret lovers just drifted away, leaving a pair of broken hearts.

I understood, but still.

And before I knew it, I was being hugged and kissed at the airport and watching Tim heading through security before losing sight of him. I caught a last wave from a far corner, and he was out of sight again.

wish I could stay he texted me a while later. I knew he had a mural to paint, and the pay was excellent, and there was no way he could refuse to do it.

miss you already came a second text.

miss you more I sent back, hoping it got there before he had to put his phone on airplane mode. There was no reply.

I drove home feeling depressed. It had been a beyond amazing week, partly because of the surprise, but mostly because it was Tim. I needed to do something.

It was nearly eight o’clock when I knocked.

The door opened.

“Airplane and Uber, just like you taught me.”

“Jo, I–”

“–I’m here,” I interrupted, “and I’ll stay here forever if you want me to. Or, I’ll take you back to Ohio with me. Whichever, I’m not about to let you away from me again. I’m not bouncing, or rebounding, or anything like that.” I could feel the tears forming and Tim’s hands on my cheeks.

“Jo, you’re serious, aren’t you? You’re not going to disappear.”

“I said forever, and the only way I’ll disappear is if you throw me out.”

I’d never been squeezed so hard and so satisfyingly, and when our lips met and parted, and our tongues began exploring, it was almost more than I was ready for. Almost. I felt like I was going to melt in his arms. And we were still in the doorway of his apartment.

“Before we decide anything, this place isn’t like yours. There’s only one bedroom and one small bed here.”

“Well, I guess I’d better head back then,” l said, looking as disappointed as possible.

Tim grabbed me and dragged my unresisting body inside, closing the door behind me.

“Jo, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You’re not the only one who can pull a surprise out of your pocket.”

“But, those things you just said. I sure didn’t say things like that.”

“You’re the one who needed to hear them.”

Tim was shaking his head. “I did, didn’t I? And about moving to California?”

“My dad can sell my house and send me the money. No problem.” I knew that was true, and I knew they had pharmacies in California.

“But you’re settled and established in Ohio, and I’m kind of drifting out here.”

“Not much sand sculpting in Ohio.”

“There’s a small contest in two days, and I’m going to create a beautiful mermaid as my goodbye to California.”

I was astounded. Tim was a California guy, and he was willing to leave all that to be with me in Ohio? I mean, I was ready to move to Cali but had never really considered that he’d want to move to Ohio.

“Tim, you really want to come to Ohio to live?”

“I’m getting way ahead of everything here, but it’s the way I feel. I want kids, and, for me, that’s a better place to raise them. Plus, it’s lots cheaper to live there.”

“Just paying the Uber, I could see that.”

And kids? He might be way ahead, but it was what I wanted if we moved ahead together. If he was willing to move away from California, I knew he was trusting me and trusting me even more than I’d hoped.

He chuckled. “With you as an established pharmacist, I can be a struggling artist.”

“A stay-at-home artist?”

A big laugh from Tim. “I hope not. Once people see the concrete Joanne, I may be doing more of those.”

“Not of babes in bikinis, I hope.”

“As long as they’re not redheaded, it should be fine.”

Of course, I knew there were lots of artists in Ohio, and I knew that Tim was a good one. He was right, too, that I wasn’t likely to lose my job.

“If I’m going back to Ohio with you, how long are you staying here?”