Sarah stepped off the airplane. It wasn’t so much the moist Caribbean heat that immediately embraced her but the fragrance — tropical vegetation and a hint of the sea. It was remarkable that a mere four hours in a plane could lift her from the frozen and aseptic air of Toronto to this. She took a deep breath and turned to her friend, Amanda. “Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”
Amanda smiled. It was she who had suggested a vacation after Sarah’s on-again, off-again relationship had imploded under the weight of expectation (hers) and deer-in-the-headlights fear of commitment (his). Sarah needed a reset and Amanda had been more than willing to facilitate it. Sarah was thirty-three after all, and had become disillusioned with the arrested development of her male peers, whose romantic vocabulary and erotic sophistication seemed to derive almost exclusively from internet porn.
Before boarding the bus to the resort, Amanda bought several cans of local beer from some young entrepreneurs with coolers. A couple of beers into the bus ride, Sarah felt herself getting caught up in the giddy excitement of those who, like her, had escaped the confines of winter.
After a quick check-in, Sarah and Amanda followed the porter along a path lined with palm trees and gardens abundant with tropical flowers. In their suite, Amanda tipped the porter and joined Sarah on the balcony, which overlooked the ocean and a welcoming stretch of pristine white sand.
“Oh God,” whispered Sarah, leaning against the railing. “It’s beautiful.”
A pair of small sailboats rode the glistening swells near the breakwater and a small army of scantily clad people frolicked on the beach.
“Let’s get changed,” said Amanda.
Sarah had brought two bathing suits — a modest pink number and a turquoise string bikini. On seeing the former, Amanda gestured to it and asked, “Does your mother know you borrowed that?” Then, with a sniff of disdain, she grabbed the offending garment and scurried to the bathroom with her own suit.
While Amanda readied herself in the bathroom, Sarah quickly stripped and donned the bikini. She appraised herself in the mirror. Not bad, she thought as she adjusted the top to keep her ample breasts somewhat covered. A strict diet and more sit-ups and planks than she cared to remember had flattened her tummy into something approaching beach-worthy. Full hips — perhaps a little fuller than she would have liked — tapered into long, toned legs. Overall, Sarah was happy. While she perhaps couldn’t compare with the twenty year olds at the resort, she felt that she could more than hold her own with those a little older.
Amanda emerged from the bathroom and Sarah’s eyes widened. “Any less of a bathing suit would be nothing,” she said.
“Hm. I might try that.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Amanda approached Sarah and walked a circle around her, studying her appraisingly. “Not bad,” she said, “but we’re on vacation.” With that and a flagrant disregard for the notion of personal space, she narrowed the bottoms of the already narrow triangles that strained to contain Sarah’s breasts. “Better,” she pronounced, eying the thin strip of fabric that now barely covered Sarah’s nipples. “Let’s hit the bar.”
On the way, Sarah surreptitiously adjusted her top again.
The bar was several rows deep with newcomers. Sarah hadn’t seen so much exposed skin since the summer. After months of sweaters and parkas, it was refreshing. She entered the press of flesh with Amanda and ordered a pair of rum and cokes. Amanda was engaged in a flirtatious conversation with one of the bartenders and Sarah left her to claim a couple of vacant loungers by the pool.
Amanda soon joined her. Her face wore an I-know-something-you-don’t grin.
“I noticed that there are no kids here,” said Sarah.
“Really? Huh.” Amanda smiled and sipped her drink and eyed a group of men at the swim-up bar.
“Is this some kind of hedonist resort?” Sarah wouldn’t have put it past her, but with the sun warming her skin she didn’t really care.
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
“It doesn’t promote itself as such.”
There was more; Sarah could sense it.
“There aren’t any orgies or anything like that,” continued Amanda. “No grottoes of iniquity.” Amanda blew a lock of her untamable corkscrew hair out of her face.
“But…”
“But you can, if you want… um… suggest what you’re interested in.”
“Suggest?”
“Look around. Have you noticed that a lot of people are wearing bracelets.”
Sarah looked. In addition to the ubiquitous resort wristbands, perhaps half of the guests were sporting bracelets of different colors, sometimes multiple bracelets. “So?”
“They distribute bracelets if you want them.” She hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. “Red for one-on-one straight. Green for gay. Blue for FMM, pink for MFF, black if you want a bit of kink thrown in. Some others that you may not be interested in. It’s kind of like hedonism-lite.”
Sarah looked at Amanda’s wrists. Red, blue, and pink. “Jesus, Amanda. That’s kind of like advertising.”
“So?”
“It’s just… gross.”
“We’re on vacation göztepe escort for a week. Who has time to negotiate?”
“But…”
“Do you want one?” Amanda held out her hand. It contained several bracelets of different colors.
Sarah groaned. “Let me think about it.”
Amanda didn’t move her hand.
“Shit,” said Sarah, picking up a red bracelet. “Happy?”
Amanda smiled and returned to the bar, ostensibly to return the unused bracelets. Sarah watched as she and a bartender chatted and grinned at each other. He touched her arm and she placed a hand on top of his. Sarah looked away and reluctantly slid her bracelet onto her wrist.
It wasn’t long before a member of the animation team approached. “Hello, pretty lady.”
“Hello,” said Sarah.
“I’m Julio,” he said.
“Sarah.”
“Beautiful name, Sarah. For a beautiful woman.”
In spite of herself, she blushed. His accent oozed a knowing sensuality. Julio was handsome, dark, and fit. He held a water polo ball.
“Would you like to get wet?”
“Pardon me?”
Julio laughed. “Water polo, my pretty Sarah. Five minutes.”
Sarah could feel a renewed warmth on her cheeks. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Later, maybe.” Julio looked at her expectantly.
“Sure.”
Julio winked at her and moved on to a group of twenty-somethings. She couldn’t help but to gawk at his ass. Get a grip, she told herself. He’s barely out of his teens. Sarah slipped the bracelet off her wrist and slid it into her bag.
* * *
From his perch at the swim-up bar, Nick surveyed the guests around the pool. By and large it was a young crowd. There were some obvious couples but the majority could not be categorized. His gaze stopped at the woman in the turquoise bikini across the pool and lingered there. She was pretty and young and probably way out of his league. What caused him to pause was not so much her body, which was pause-worthy in its own right, but her face. It was one of those rare, expressive faces that could only be described as open. His wife had had a face like that — complex but readable. Inviting and comforting. The woman in the bikini had a flawless of complexion, wide-spaced grey eyes, small nose and full lips, all framed by dark blonde hair. Lest he be accused of ogling, he scanned the pool again, only to return to this woman. While his mind knew that there was little or no possibility with her, his eyes had no such qualms.
Conditioning dictated that he at least try to see whether she wore a bracelet but her left arm was momentarily hidden. He sipped at his rum and coke. He’d heard from one of the staff members that the whole bracelet thing had started with a large group of swingers who had descended on the resort some years back. They’d come with a rainbow palette of bracelets to identify who was into what. After several years of using the resort as their base, the swingers had eventually moved on to another location and the bracelets had disappeared for a season. The resulting decline in the number of return visitors to the resort caused the owners to quietly reintroduce the bracelets, albeit as an officially non-sanctioned attraction. And so the staff continued to perpetuate the legend of the bracelets and, of course, benefit from whatever came their way while the resort owners looked the other way. The bracelets were good business.
Nick had chosen a red bracelet, not so much that he was desperate for action but to dispel any notion that he and his brother were a couple. If the red bracelet led to something, fine. If not, he wasn’t worrying about it. There was enough sunshine and ocean and booze to ensure that he would have a good time.
He watched with interest as one of the staff members approached bikini girl and chatted her up. She moved her arm and he saw that she wore a red bracelet too, which made her less adventurous than her friend, who wore three or four, but still available. Her relative modesty pleased him and he was glad that his initial impressions of her hadn’t been proven false by an armful of bracelets. The staff member was obviously putting the moves on her. To her credit, she looked a little flustered and uncomfortable. She smiled and shook her head. Nick saw that she had a dimple on her left cheek when she smiled. He was a sucker for dimples. After several minutes, the guy moved off. Nick grinned when he saw the woman removing her bracelet and slipping it into her bag.
“Are you going to talk to her?”
His brother had returned with drinks. Seven years younger than Nick, Adam was all of the things Nick had once been — carefree, supremely confident, and enviably fit.
“Maybe. I don’t think she’s in the market though.”
“Why?”
“Just a feeling.”
“Too bad. But you should still talk to her. Nothing ventured….”
“Yeah.”
* * *
Amanda returned from the bar and reclined on the lounger, unconsciously arranging her long limbs to show them to the greatest advantage. “I think we might need to set some ground rules in case either of us decide to take advantage of the bracelet thing.”
“Okay,” said Sarah, thinking reluctantly about how it would be with Julio.
“If istanbul escort the do-not-disturb sign is backwards, it means that the room is occupied.”
“Sure,” said Sarah. “But can we agree that the room is there for sleeping too?”
“Alright. No shenanigans after midnight.”
“Deal.”
Amanda glanced over to a path on which one of the resort staff waited. “Do you need the room now?” she asked.
Sarah followed Amanda’s gaze. “Already?” she asked with some surprise. Years ago, Sarah would have been aghast at Amanda’s promiscuity; now it was just par for the course. There were times that Sarah envied her friend. For Amanda, sex was like a massage — intimate, pleasurable, and relaxing — and little more than that. For Sarah, who’d been raised to think that sex was something that all guys craved and good girls withheld, the act itself was something to be negotiated and allowed only if a myriad of conditions were met.
Amanda grinned. “We’re only here for a week.”
With that, she was off.
Yes, there were times that Sarah envied her friend.
* * *
Nick wasn’t one for dancing. Bad genes and a singular lack of rhythm had given him all of the grace of one who has had his spine fused. That said, he wasn’t above enjoying the sinuous grace and wanton gyrations of the women on the dance floor. Adam had no such limitations and dove into the fray. Not bad, bro, he thought as his brother zeroed in on a pair of young women and smiled his youthful acknowledgement. The girls smiled back. Nick shook his head. If only he had half of Adam’s nerve.
He thought he saw bikini girl with her friend on the dance floor, but the pulsing lights made it hard to get a bead on her.
After an hour or so of being pummeled by the driving bass, Nick had had enough. He exited the disco and wandered a path that eventually led him to the pool bar. It was much quieter now than it had been before, although the thump of the bass could still be heard rolling across the resort like a war drum. He ordered a drink and looked around. Some of the tables were occupied by couples in quiet conversation. Then his eyes fell upon the woman with the turquoise bikini, sitting alone. Only now she wore a white skirt and loose blouse.
He wondered whether she was waiting for someone. He waited for a couple of minutes, debating whether to approach her. Move, idiot, he told himself.
Before he had a chance to chicken out, he walked over. Taking a chance, he said, “Escaping the meat market?”
* * *
The sudden intrusion of a voice into her reveries surprised her. “Sorry?”
The man gestured with his head to the disco.
“Yeah,” admitted Sarah.
Sarah wondered whether he was another creep intent on one thing only. She studied him. He was older than she and seemed a little nervous. Sarah found this cute and reassuring because she felt a pang of apprehension herself. She was always on her guard when a strange man approached her and had a knack for recognizing their motivations. Perhaps it wasn’t a knack; their motivations seldom strayed too far from the predicable. The man stole a glance at her wrist and then her ring finger. He was trying to be subtle about it and grinned ruefully when he noticed that she’d noticed. He was wearing a red bracelet.
“Any luck?” she asked, nodding at his bracelet.
“No,” he admitted. “But then, I only put it on under duress.”
“Ah.”
“And you? Not interested in the bracelet game?”
“I’m vacillating.”
“I can vacillate with you if you don’t mind the company.”
“Sure.”
They introduced themselves and fell into the uncomfortable silence of two people who knew nothing about each other.
“So, Sarah, what do you do when you’re not…”
Nick looked momentarily flustered. “Not what?” asked Sarah.
“Ah, jeez, I let my mouth get ahead of my brain.”
“I’m curious now.”
Nick took a deep breath. “I was going to say ‘…when you’re not improving on an already breathtaking scenery.’ But that would have been hokey.”
Sarah could feel a warmth rising to her cheeks. “It’s quite alright. And thanks. I’m an actuary.”
She waited for his eyes to glaze over. Instead, he smiled. “What are the chances of you allowing me to get you a drink?”
Sarah smiled back. “Better than average.”
“Great. I’ll be right back.”
Sarah watched him go. She pegged his age at close to forty. He was on the handsome side of average — not GQ but not hard on the eyes either. He leaned against the bar and chatted to the bartender as the drinks were prepared. He wasn’t really her type. That said, her type hadn’t gotten her much of anywhere of late. Though she didn’t hear the chorus of angels that heralded the beginning of a new infatuation, she did hear her inner voice — pay attention, it said.
He returned with a pair of Mojitos and sat down. His knee brushed hers and quickly retreated. “And what do you do?” she asked.
“I’m a high school teacher.”
“Brave man.”
“It’s not too bad. The kids are good, usually.”
Sarah sipped her drink. They chatted for a while longer and then arrived at the point in the kadıköy escort conversation where it would either veer into more personal matters or peter out under the weight of mundaneness.
“So, who are you here with?” he asked.
“A friend,” she said. Then realizing that she wasn’t really saying anything, amended it. “A girlfriend.” Shit. “A friend friend.” That was clumsy, she thought.
He laughed and she relaxed. “I’m here with a friend friend too. My kid brother, actually.”
“Here’s to friend friends,” said Sarah, raising her glass.
He touched his glass to hers and they both drank.
More small talk punctuated by periods of silence. Strangely, these periods of silence weren’t at all uncomfortable. Sarah was grateful that Nick didn’t feel the need to fill the air with words and practiced lines. On the other hand, much was revealed in unthinking talk, and so far, he had revealed very little of himself.
“Married?” asked Sarah, surprising herself.
* * *
The question had come out of nowhere. Nick had been thinking the same about his companion as well — her status, her possible willingness — but hadn’t thought of a tactful way of asking. He looked at her in surprise. “No,” said Nick.
“Attached?”
“Widower.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Nick shrugged. “It happened a couple of years ago.”
“Do you mind me asking…”
Nick shrugged. “An icy road and an unfortunately located tree.” He took a deep breath. “If it had been a drunk or something, I would have had somewhere to focus my anger. As it is, there’s only God.”
Sarah looked acutely uncomfortable. Nick had said too much, revealed too much bitterness. Dumb. “How about you?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Single.”
His eyebrows rose.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Come on,” she insisted.
“I just figured…” He stopped. She’d trapped him. “I’m surprised.”
“How so?” Sarah was enjoying this.
Enough backpedalling, thought Nick. Time to go on the offensive. “I find you very attractive in every way that matters. A man would have to be a fool to let you go.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. Way to go, Romeo, thought Nick.
“Thanks. I guess I’ve met my share of fools.”
After another round of drinks, Nick walked Sarah back to her room. Every now and again, their hands brushed each other, just often enough to be significant but not so often that chance couldn’t be ruled out.
“Here we are,” Sarah announced.
Too soon, thought Nick.
She inserted her card into the lock and turned to him. “Thanks for keeping me company. I had fun.” She stood on her toes and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her lips brushed his cheek.
His hand rose to her waist, eager to hold her there for a moment longer, but she spun and opened the door.
“See you tomorrow?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said. “I’d like that.”
The door closed and Nick blinked at it. She’d meant it.
* * *
Adam had scheduled a snorkeling excursion for the next morning. Over breakfast, Nick scanned the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sarah before the group left. He’d spent much of the night replaying his time with her and probably reading far more into the kiss than a grown man of any experience should have. Get a grip, he told himself. Eventually he fell asleep.
Just as the group was about to board the bus, he glimpsed Sarah in the lobby. He asked Adam to wait and jogged to where she was exchanging money.
“Hi Sarah.”
Her face lit up. “Nick!”
“Listen, I have to go in a minute, but would you like to join me for dinner tonight?”
“Sounds great.”
“Fantastic. I’ll meet you at the lobby bar at six.” He grinned at her like a fool until he heard Adam calling his name.
As the boat cruised to the reef, Nick thought of Sarah and their imminent date. He’d been on dates before since his wife’s passing, but they’d been uncomfortable affairs. Invariably he’d felt like an actor playing the role of a man on a date, speaking the lines and going through the motions. And while he’d dreaded these dates, these efforts to get back in the game, he felt nothing but a growing excitement at the prospect of sharing more time with Sarah.
He vividly recalled her face when he had dropped her off at her room. Large grey-green eyes beneath which floated a faint spray of freckles on the tops of her cheeks and nose. Full lips that were slightly parted. Nick wondered what it would be like to kiss them.
The boat slowed down and the crew started dispensing flippers and snorkels.
On their return, Nick hurried to his room for a quick shower and shave. He was giddy.
He was at the bar a little before the appointed time. That was fine; he’d have an opportunity to have a drink to calm his nerves.
When he finished his first drink, he looked at his watch. Sarah was late. By the time half an hour and another drink had passed, he started feeling increasingly conspicuous and irritated at his solitude when everyone around him was laughing and enjoying the company of others. As more minutes ticked by, he grew dispirited at Sarah’s continued absence. His excitement ebbed and morphed into disappointment. He chastised himself for thinking that a chaste kiss on the cheek could have signified more than it probably did. She’d probably been glad to have gotten rid of him so easily. He felt like an adolescent again, carrying a torch for someone who would never be illuminated by it.