Authors: Barrett
Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Genre Fiction, #Lesbian, #Lesbian Romance, #Literature & Fiction
A few minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom. “All yours.” She
tried not to stare at Silke, who was standing in her underwear while fold
ing her clothes.
“Thanks, I won’t be that long,” Silke said as she brushed past her into the bathroom.
Kirin smiled as she walked to the window. Her face felt warm, and she knew why. Silke was a very attractive woman, and Kirin’s forty-two-year-old libido was bumping up against her self-imposed celibacy. She looked over her shoulder toward the bathroom and then returned her gaze to the wind-whipped sheets of rain pummeling the building.
“Crap. I wonder if we’re actually in that hurricane right now,” she mur
mured.
Wouldn’t make any difference anyway. They had nowhere to go and besides, this building seemed sturdier than most she’d seen so far. As a precaution, she pulled the drapes closed.
The bathroom door opened, and Kirin looked up from the research ar
ticle about the famed Blue Hole diving area. Silke emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel wrapped tightly around . . . her head.
Kirin caught herself staring brazenly.
Oh, Lord, help me.
Silke Dyson’s appearance enthralled her, starting with the long, toned legs, a softly rounded derriere, well-defined back and shoulder muscles.
And all wrapped with creamy white skin splashed with pale freckles. Ki
rin’s breath caught as a flush of heat surged through her body. She couldn’t pull her eyes away.
“You were right about the shower. I could get used to that. It has a re
ally
powerful showerhead and lots of hot water. There’s something about trav
eling all day—it just makes me feel grimy.” Silke pulled on some clean boxers and a tank top.
Kirin nearly dropped her laptop on the floor, made a quick recovery, and stood. “My turn then.”
She grabbed a couple of items from her suitcase and rushed into the bathroom.
Chapter Four
BY NINE-THIRTY the next morning Kirin and Silke were back at the
airport with at least a hundred other passengers waiting to get transporta
tion to the outer islands. The atmosphere had calmed considerably from the d
ay before, and Silke could only assume that everyone had slept some
where the night before.
Kirin suggested that Silke wait near the gift shop with their luggage and went to the ticket counter to find out the status of the outgoing flights.
After so many trips to Belize, Silke had slipped easily into the slower way of life almost as soon as they had landed. The first few times when she had traveled with Rachel, it would take at least forty-eight hours to re-acclimate to the
manaña
mentality. Now it felt natural to slow down as soon as she boarded the plane. Hurricanes notwithstanding.
The hum of voices, luggage wheels on stone floors, and the whirring of the overhead fans lulled Silke into a comfortable state. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee drifted out of one of the shops behind her.
Meeting Kirin Foster had turned out to be a serendipitous event. Her
first impression was that she was excitable and short-tempered. Then sur
prisingly, after they had dinner and returned to the room, conversation had flowed easily between them.
With this glitch in her travel plans, Silke acknowledged that a tempo
rary travel companion benefited her so far.
“Looks like our luck has changed. The sun dried out the landing strip in San Pedro and the commuter planes started taking off. I think he said we would be on the third flight.” Kirin sat down heavily on the wooden chair next to Silke and handed her a boarding pass.
“That’s good news,” Silke said. “Thank you for wading through that crowd and getting us booked. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’m as excited as you are to get out of here,” Kirin said, then started sniffing loudly. “Something yummy is wafting from that café upstairs. Are you hungry?”
Silke laughed. “Do you mean to tell me the complimentary breakfast of an egg sandwich on toast and a glass of Tang two hours ago didn’t hold you?”
“Oh my God, what a joke. Seriously, who serves that powdered orange stuff anymore?” Kirin grimaced.
“I would really love a good cup of coffee and a fry jack,” Silke said, pulling some Belizean dollars from her wallet for Kirin.
“Done.”
The smell of coffee and the rustling of wax paper announced Kirin’s return. She handed both to Silke without a word and sat down.
“Thanks, this is delicious,
,
” Silke said.
Kirin mumbled a response and ate her fry jack.
While they waited in silence, the crowds thinned as various flights de
parted. When their flight was called, they walked outside and boarded in the same illusory silence that Silke could not put her finger on. Was it
stress over work, or something else? Whatever it was, it wasn’t her busi
ness.
At a low altitude, the flight in the eight-passenger puddle jumper to
Ambergris Caye took only twenty minutes across open water. Silke en
joyed watching the small islands emerge, covered in green foliage—a topographical paradise so close. Closer to the relaxation and safety she craved, it was dreamy. She glanced at her frowning seatmate, still curious about her dark mood.
The small plane bounced down on the muddy runway.
Well, the only runway
, Silke thought. As soon as they were on the ground walking to the terminal, Kirin fumbled for her cell phone.
“Esther. It’s me. We’re on the ground in San Pedro. I know you didn’t have much time, but I have to find a place to stay.” There was a pause. “No, this isn’t like landing at LaGuardia. I am surrounded by palm trees, not hotels.” Kirin rotated her head.
Silke now had a better idea where Kirin’s frustration came from but
dared not interfere or offer help. Her own experience with offering unso
licited advice had taught her not to get involved in other people’s problems without permission.
The small building in the middle of the large muddy field looked less
like an airline terminal and more like a small welcome center. Silke re
membered the construction project a year ago, and this new building certainly was more welcoming than the old modified trailer. A large glass atrium formed the waiting area, and behind the ticket counter sat a large, covered baggage-handling area.
Because of the increased number of flights arriving from the mainland,
the baggage area was crowded and noisy. Silke retreated to a bench out
doors, knowing their luggage would take a while to be unloaded.
Kirin paced up and down, waiting for her cell phone to ring. Silke glanced around to get Kirin’s coordinates from time to time. Relying on her hearing, she felt and heard the vibration of Kirin’s shoes.
Finally, it rang.
“Hello?” Kirin answered, agitated. “Esther, are you not listening? I’m not in Belize City. I’m in San Pedro on Ambergris Caye. I understand you’re busy, but I at least need somewhere to stay. Fine, ten minutes.”
Silke watched as Kirin jammed the phone in her pocket and wore more grooves in the concrete from her pacing. “Kirin, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure. I’m sorry.” Kirin flopped down on the bench. “I don’t mean to be growling all the time. My editor has no idea what’s going on down here. She can’t seem to find one damn hotel with a vacancy. Did they not think of this before they sent me scurrying down here?”
“Listen, we bunked together last night and did okay. It may not help, but I’m staying in a condo at the resort, and there would be plenty of room if you wanted to stay there.”
Two locals walked by speaking in Spanish and waving their hands at each other. Silke caught the hand gestures in her tunnel vision.
“Are you serious?” Kirin sounded both surprised and relieved. “That would really help. At least until I could find something. And I’ll certainly pay half or whatever would be fair.” A huge sigh escaped her lips.
Silke put her hand on Kirin’s shoulder. “I figure it’s the least I can do. After all, you helped me out when we had to stay at that enchanting little institution last night. One of the resort staff will be here soon to look for guests. I promise it won’t be a problem.”
Kirin looked up to the sky.
As best she could, Silke followed her line of vision. Another of the outer bands from the storm moved closer to the barrier reef about a mile east of the beach.
AFTER BEING FERRIED from the airstrip to the nearby pier, Kirin watched one of the young men from the resort load a dozen passengers and their luggage into a large Bayliner boat. Their neatly pressed uniform shirts were getting drenched as they handed out oilcloth ponchos to the passengers. While the two large motors rumbled loudly, the boat rocked precariously at the dock.
The couple across from Kirin tucked their two small children under the ponchos to protect them from the stinging saltwater. She marveled at
Silke’s calm demeanor as she spoke to one of the staff who loaded the lug
gage. Maybe this was a normal occurrence on the lee side of the islands.
The large boat swung away from the dock in a wide arc and headed out toward the reef, slapping the incoming waves in its path and sending salt spray high in the air. Once they were far enough from the docks, the captain steered north and opened up the motors until they were simply
bouncing across the top of the waves. The speed and salt spray were ex
hilarating.
Kirin faced the shoreline and could barely make out the brightly col
ored low buildings crowded along the beach. After a few minutes, the buildings
became more infrequent but larger. Ominous gray clouds seemed to ex
pand and contract above them as sheets of rain buffeted the passengers and the
boat. In spite of the eighty-degree temperatures and the sturdy poncho, Ki
rin shivered, chilled by the wet clothing and wind. The poncho hood kept blowing off, and she finally gave up trying to hold it on.
After ten or fifteen minutes, the boat slowed and made another wide arc toward the shoreline. The rain let up and revealed a dozen or more small thatched buildings spread out along the white sand beach. Kirin gently poked at Silke then pointed at the shore. Silke nodded and smiled.
An efficient staff greeted the new guests—many by name, including Silke. Within a short time, she and Silke were registered and escorted to a beautiful condominium up the beach from the main buildings.
“This is absolutely beautiful.” Kirin peered around the lovely one bed
room condominium. Original local art graced the walls and tables. A complete modern kitchen covered the rear wall. Two pocket doors, one from the kitchen and one from the bedroom, opened onto a large stone-
and-tile bathroom. Bright shades of teal, orange, ochre, crimson, and sap
phire adorning paintings and rich fabrics added to the tropical native ambience.
Two doors from the living room opened out onto a small porch that faced south and east, allowing a pristine view of the entire beachfront resort. Less than a mile away, the breathtaking aquamarine blue water stretched out to the barrier reef.
“Then I guess you can understand why I love it here so much,” Silke said, standing at the bay window. “I think you’ll find that the sofa bed is extremely comfortable, and there are extra linens in the closet if you need them.” She untucked her shirt and lifted her arms over her head as she stretched from side to side. Kirin watched, transfixed.
Kirin exhaled and refocused. “After the last twenty-four hours, this is like heaven, and I’m grateful that you’re willing to share it.” She surprised herself. For the first time in a long time, she actually felt grateful instead of agitated.
They looked at each other in surprise at a knock on the door. Silke opened the door and embraced the tan, fit woman smiling in the doorway. “Oh, Diane, I’m so glad to see you.”
They stepped back then hugged again and laughed.
“Please come in and let me introduce you.”
Kirin extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Kirin Foster, the orphaned traveler.”
Diane shook her hand warmly. “Welcome to the Beach Resort. We’re glad you both arrived safely, and I hope your stay is a pleasant one.” A soft ocean breeze from the open window ruffled Silke’s hair. Kirin noted a pleasant scent.
“We’re all thrilled when Silke comes to visit,” Diane said. “We’re glad you were able to help her out with this wretched storm.”
Silke ushered Diane to the couch.
Kirin took a chair next to them. “I’m so relieved to have such a beauti
ful
place to stay tonight.” She smiled at Silke. “It’s a far cry from our accom
modations last night.”
Diane smiled warmly. “I think you’ll both be comfortable. There should be plenty of room, and I asked Manuel, the desk clerk, to check on your hotel reservation at the Outer Bank Lodge.” She squeezed Silke’s
hand. “I’m so glad to see you, my old friend.” She kissed Silke’s cheek af
fectionately, stood up, and started for the door. “I’ll let you two get settled. Join us for a welcome cocktail later.”
Chapter Five
SILKE LOVED THE welcoming sounds of Caribbean music. Laced with steel drums and an upbeat tempo, the sounds greeted them as she and Kirin climbed the steps to the pool area. The sun was setting behind the resort to the west, casting the deck and pool in shadows. Palm fronds swayed in the filtered rays.
She had changed into a comfortable mauve tank top and a festive wraparound pareo for a skirt. The sensuous feel of the fabric against her skin and the way it brushed against the backs of her thighs softened into her own inner serenity. Even her marred vision couldn’t disturb that special place. She glanced at Kirin walking quietly beside her, amused by the fact that she’d asked no questions.
When her eye doctor had told her that her other senses of hearing, t
ouching, and tasting would sharpen, she had scoffed at the idea. Now af
ter eight months, she admitted he was right. Her sense of touch had
intensified. Since her favorite art form was sculpting, the increased aware
ness with her hands was an added bonus.
“Watch that step,” Kirin said.
“Thanks.”
Textiles and woodworking lured her as well. A free-form teak goddess was her last project before she left on vacation. It had taken her weeks to find the form she needed within that block of wood with chisels, mallets, and rasps. When she ran her hands along the fluid lines, she felt the warmth emanating from inside. The final sanding took days, and once the Tung oil was applied, the surface was satiny smooth and flawless. The sensuality of woodworking was the remedy she longed for, like a calling almost.
AS THEY WALKED by the large pool toward the bar area, she recog
nized a few familiar faces from her previous visits. People called to her and greeted her warmly. She noticed that Kirin was hanging back and did a one-eighty. She took Kirin’s arm, pulled her closer, and introduced her to some of her Belizean comrades.
A waiter came up to her. “It is so good to see you again, mum.”
Silke hugged him. “Ricardo, I’m always happy as soon as you appear.”
“Miss Silke, just as beautiful as ever. Would you ladies like the rum punch?” His singsong cadence seemed to follow the music.
“Of course I would. Ricardo, this is my guest, Kirin Foster.” Silke put her hand on his arm, and Ricardo regarded Kirin. “Would you like one or something else?” Silke smoothed her skirt.
“Rum punch sounds perfect,” Kirin said.
Like a new member of the tribe, she followed them to a small table beside the pool.
“This place is postcard perfect. It looks like a set for a movie with thatched cottages, palm trees, and great music,” Kirin said. “Especially after our last accommodations.”
Silke took note of the ocean breeze, the salt against her skin. “Actu
ally, they did use the resort for a short-lived reality show several years ago. Maybe you saw it?” She turned more fully to see Kirin. “Diane showed me clips of the old TV show
Temptation Island
just before they bought the place.
“After the filming, the owners lost interest and let the place deteriorate. They sold it at a loss so Diane and her husband bought it for a good price.” She noticed Kirin idly swinging her crossed leg with a contented smile on her face. She waved at another friend passing by. “The next few years they struggled to keep it going while they invested every nickel into upgrading the electricity and water. After that, business slowly began to grow. Because they lived on site, alongside the workers, word spread that steady jobs were available. Happy, loyal employees always bring visitors back. Every time.”
The drinks arrived complete with little umbrellas.
“Cheers.” Kirin held up her glass. “To a calmer rest of the vacation.”
“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.” Silke clinked glasses
. I’d be more worried about boredom for such a Type A.
The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving a rosy pink glow on the fluffy white clouds over the reef. The evening breeze picked up, driving away the small insects and leaving a salty fresh scent in its wake.
Silke watched Kirin tip her head back and close her eyes as she slowly unwound a little. Perhaps the drink helped to assail her constant state of
impatience. Silke got tired just being around that tension. Some newcom
ers took several days to acclimate to the slower way of life. Kirin’s apparent deceleration was a good thing.
She was surprised she felt more comfortable sitting with a stranger than she had with her partner of seven years. She closed her eyes and remembered their first trip here together. It had started pleasantly. But, within a couple of days, Rachel began to find faults. Major faults, minor faults—Silke took too long to get ready, or she didn’t like the clothes Silke picked out, or that her entrée cost too much. Pick, pick, pick.
Two years after the bickering started, their fights had become more
physical, more crude, and violent. Pushing or shoving gradually escalat
ed to slapping then punching. The fighting ended that fateful night eight months ago when Rachel had choked her unconscious, and she lost much of her sight. An uneasy peace was barely holding.
“Your friend Diane is waving at you from the restaurant,” Kirin said, and gently touched Silke’s arm.
Silke sat up and shook her head. “I’m sorry. The music distracted me I guess.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Kirin asked sincerely. “You look so seri
ous.”
“I’m fine. Sometimes the re-entry to peaceful is hard. Things are not good at home. I can fill you in some time, but right now, I think Diane would like us to move to the dining room for dinner. Are you hungry?” She pushed back and unfolded her cane.
Kirin picked up her glass. “I’m ready to eat and something smells won
derful.”
Silke stood up and led the way into the open-air restaurant with Kirin close behind, a hand on her back as they went up the steps.
Thoughtful
.
“Good. You’re in luck,” Silke said. “Tonight is the pasta bar. You can try whatever you feel like. I promise you will not go to bed hungry.”
Diane escorted them to a small table in the corner close to the buffet. There were only eight tables in the dining room with six more on the open-air porch.
“Sammy will take your order, but I thought I’d join you for a glass of wine if that’s all right,” Diane said.
“Please do. It’s so good to be here with you again,” Silke said as she sat. She tried discreetly to locate her utensils and napkin. “And tell us about the storm. All we heard about was the flooding inland. What in the world happened?”
Diane shook her head. “Lord, what a mess. We’re grateful we didn’t suffer as much damage as some of the buildings closer to the open ocean. We’re protected from the brunt of most storms because of the barrier reef. The outer bands of rain were fierce, and we lost several palm branches. We
have a lot of cleanup to do at the south end of the resort, but nothing seri
ous. The boys started working right away, and now the beachfront is clear. A couple of guests reported leaks. All repaired. Fortunately, we have our own generators and our own water.”
“The travelers who were waiting at the airport bordered on frantic—shouting, shoving, and demanding. It was frightening,” Silke said.
Diane smiled. “We’ve been through it many times, but it’s hard for folks who aren’t used to it and need to change plans. I’m glad you two found a place to stay last night. Oh, here’s your dinner.”
A young man juggled a tray with their entrees and set down a basket of fresh warm bread in the center of the table. Kirin beamed at the anxiously awaited meal.
“I’ll let you eat in peace,” Diane said. “Silke, we’ll catch up tomor
row.”
Diane hugged her then made her way through the restaurant, stopping to chat with new guests. The waiter served two large bowls of pasta—one fettuccine and one spaghetti Bolognese and refilled their water glasses.
Kirin attacked her meal with gusto as Silke watched. It was nice hav
ing dinner with someone for a change, and she was grateful for Kirin’s assistance over the last day. Ever since she lost part of her vision, simple
everyday tasks were sometimes overwhelming. One more reason the Be
lize vacation became the high point of her year. Spending several months here on the beach became an entertaining notion for her. A number
of expat artists lived on the island, many here for years. The more tenu
ous and vicious her relationship with Rachel had become, the more Silke dreamed of escaping.
The past few months had been unpredictable because of Rachel’s guilt, and Silke’s fear kept her stomach in knots. Even the routine two weeks that Rachel was out of town didn’t feel completely safe.
“Nothing more for me,” Kirin said when the waiter approached. “I can’t remember the last time I ate so much.”
The waiter cleared away the dishes as Diane returned. “Did you leave room for dessert? Silke, you never pass up a dessert.” She smiled and then winked at Kirin.
“Maybe later,” Silke said. “But right now, I can’t eat another thing. I’m afraid Kirin and I were deprived of food for so long that we overdid it. It was delicious as always.”
“Kirin, our phone lines are up, and Carlos will call your resort if you want to go over to the office,” Diane said.
“Really? That’s terrific, and I really appreciate it. If you’ll both excuse me for a minute, I’ll try to find out what’s going on.” Kirin stood and strode toward the office.
Diane reached across the table and patted Silke’s arm. “And how are you, my old friend? Your new friend seems nice. Are you trading up to a new model?”
Silke’s jaw dropped in surprise. “Diane, you know me better than that. Kirin helped me out, and I’m just returning the favor. As I tell you every year, the moment I land in Belize, my heart opens and my blood pressure drops—hence, my pleasant glow.”
Diane’s brow furrowed. “Still living in a war zone with what’s her name? You know you don’t have to. You can come here whenever you want. Mark adores you as much as I do. I worry about you and there isn’t much I can do when you’re hundreds of miles away.”
Silke felt better just hearing those words. “I know. And believe me I appreciate it. After all these years, I just don’t know how to break it off peacefully. It’s clear we don’t love each other anymore, but neither one of us is willing to step out of the comfort of the familiar. We’re both tiptoeing around right now. Rachel is still mortified that she hurt me so badly. She apologizes constantly. A leaky, dripping faucet of regret. I think she’d leave if I asked her. I’m just not sure how I’d manage by myself.”
“What about counseling, do you think she’d go for that?” Diane took a drink from one of the water glasses.
Silke thought about the endless discussions and arguments. “I asked Ra
chel to go to counseling but she sarcastically rejected the idea and stormed out of the house.” She glanced at Diane. “No, I tried. I really don’t see any
way to reconcile. I’m not sure I can trust her again. I just need a plan.”
“Can I offer a suggestion?” Diane leaned forward. “We’re fixing up the original owner’s quarters for extra space. I hurried so my parents could come down, but Dad has to have hip surgery. They won’t be able to travel for at least six months after that. Why don’t you think about coming back and doing some serious soul searching? It can’t hurt and it won’t cost hardly anything. Honey, it’s time for a change.” She slapped Silke on the forearm.
Silke felt a chair scraping the floorboards across from her and looked up to see Kirin rejoin them. “Were you able to get through?”
“Yes. I talked to the night manager over there. He apologized for not being able to contact anyone, but they suffered some severe damage to
the facility. They still don’t have power except for a couple of genera
tors
and phone service is erratic. They have not been able to get supplies be
cause their boats capsized. Long story short, they don’t have guests or even much of a staff right now. They’ll refund the deposit, but he has no idea when they’ll be open for business.”