The Return

“Not just wet,” she said. “Soaking wet. And it’s been an adventure, right?”

In the downpour, he saw a smudge of mascara on her cheek, a hint of imperfection on a woman who otherwise struck him as nearly perfect in every way. He wondered why she’d come into his life, and how he could have come to care for her as deeply as he already did. All his thoughts revolved around her. He didn’t reflect on his life in Zimbabwe or the reason he’d come to North Carolina; instead, he marveled at her beauty and replayed the time they’d spent together, a reel of vivid images. It was a tidal wave of sensation and emotion, and he suddenly felt that every step he’d taken in his life had been on a path leading to her, as if she were his ultimate destination.

Hope seemed frozen in place. He guessed she knew what he was feeling, and he wondered whether she felt the same. He couldn’t tell, but she didn’t move even when he reached out, finally placing a hand on her hip.

For a long time, they stood that way, the energy passing back and forth between them through that single, simple touch. He stared at her and she stared back, the moment seeming to last forever before he finally inched forward. He tilted his head, his face slowly drawing toward hers, before feeling Hope place a gentle hand on his chest.

“Tru…” she whispered.

Her voice was enough to stop him from going further. He knew he should step back, make space between them, but he felt powerless to move.

Nor did she step back. Instead, they faced each other in the downpour, and Tru felt the old instincts rising up, instincts he couldn’t control. With sudden clarity he understood that he’d fallen in love—and perhaps even that he’d been waiting for someone just like her all his life.

* * *

Hope stared at Tru, her mind racing, trying to ignore the gentle strength she felt in his hand. Trying to ignore the desire and longing she sensed in his touch. Part of her knew she wanted him to kiss her, even as another part, the stronger part, warned her against it, causing her to put a hand between them.

She wasn’t ready for this…

Finally, reluctantly, she averted her gaze, sensing both his disappointment and his acceptance. When at long last, he stepped back, she finally felt like she could breathe again, even though his hand remained on her hip.

“We should probably be getting back,” she murmured.

He nodded and as he slid his hand from her hip, she reached for it, intending to give it a squeeze. He happened to rotate his hand at the same time, and their fingers interlocked as if choreographed. The next thing she knew, they were holding hands as they walked side by side.

The sensation was heady, even though she knew holding hands meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. She vaguely remembered doing the same thing with Tony, the boy she’d kissed at the cottage, when they’d gone to the movies the following day. Back then, that simple gesture had probably impressed her as a sign of maturity, as if she were finally growing up, but here and now, it struck her as one of the most intimate things that had ever happened to her. His touch carried with it the possibility of even greater intimacy later, and she focused on keeping Scottie in sight to avoid thinking too deeply about it.

Eventually they passed Clancy’s and then the pier; not too long after that, they’d reached the steps of the cottage. It was only when she stopped that Tru let go of her hand. As she stared at him, she knew she wasn’t yet ready to end their time together.

“Would you like to have dinner tonight? At the cottage? I picked up some fresh fish the other day at the market.”

“Yes,” he said. “Very much.”

Moments of Truth

As soon as she opened the door to her cottage, Scottie raced inside, paused, then shook himself vigorously, sending a fine spray of water over everything in the vicinity. Hope rushed to get a towel, but Scottie shook again before she could reach him. She grimaced. After she was dry, she would have to wipe down the furniture and walls. But first, a bath.

They had arranged to meet in an hour and a half, so there was plenty of time. She started the water in the tub, peeled out of her wet clothing, and tossed it into the dryer. By the time she returned, the tub was half-full, and she added some bubbles. Realizing something was missing, she wrapped a towel around herself, went to the kitchen, and poured a glass of wine from the bottle she’d opened the day before. On her way back to the bathroom, she grabbed candles and a book of matches from the cabinet.

She lit the candles before slipping into the hot, soapy water, and took a long sip of wine. Leaning her head back, she thought the experience seemed different than it had the day before, more luxurious somehow. As she relaxed, she replayed that moment on the beach when Tru had almost kissed her. Even though she had ultimately stopped him, there’d been a dreamlike quality to all of it, and she wanted to relive it. It wasn’t just about feeling attractive again; there was something graceful and unforced about her connection with Tru, something almost peaceful. Until meeting him, she’d had no idea how much she’d been craving something exactly like that.

What she didn’t know was whether that feeling was new or had been buried in her subconscious all along, lost among her worries and frustrations and the anger she felt at Josh. All she knew for sure was that the emotional turbulence of the last few months had left her with little energy to take care of herself. Periods of peace or simple relaxation were rare these days; sadly, she realized that she wasn’t even excited about seeing her friends this weekend. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost her spark.

Spending time with Tru had awakened her to the fact that she didn’t want to be the person she’d recently become. She wanted to be the person she remembered herself to be—someone who embraced life, an enthusiast for both the ordinary and extraordinary. Not in the future, but starting now.

She shaved her legs and soaked a little while longer before the water finally began to cool. After toweling off, she reached for the lotion on the counter. She spread it over her legs and breasts and belly, relishing the silky feeling as her skin came to life.

Pulling out the new sundress, she slipped it on, along with her new sandals. She thought about putting on a bra but decided it wasn’t necessary. Feeling scandalous but not wanting to think about what it might mean for later, she didn’t reach for a pair of panties, either.

She dried and styled her hair, trying to remember exactly how Claire had done it. When she was satisfied, she started with her makeup. For eye shadow, she selected a dusting of aqua, hoping it would accent the color of her eyes. She dabbed on a bit of perfume and chose a pair of crystal drop earrings that Robin had given her for her birthday.

Afterward, she stood in front of the mirror. She adjusted the straps of her sundress and primped her hair until she was satisfied. There were times when she was somewhat critical about her appearance, but tonight, she couldn’t help but be pleased with the way she looked.

She carried what was left of her glass of wine back to the kitchen. Beyond the windows, the world continued to darken. Instead of starting the dinner preparations, she mopped up the remainder of Scottie’s mess in the entranceway and did a quick run-through of the family room, straightening up the pillows and putting the novel she’d been reading back on the shelf. She switched on some lamps in the living room, using the dimmer to get the ambiance right. She turned on the radio and adjusted the tuner until she found a station offering classic jazz. Perfect.