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“I want to.” I respond and feel a burst of happiness at how good it feels to say that and mean it.
He grins up at me. "So, let's spend time together. Just two people who like talking and kissing and who will go their separate ways and never see each other again."
The last words in his sentence pinch me in a place that’s already tender. I have the ridiculous urge to ask him to take them back. Instead, I ask, "What time?"
His smile is all triumph and desire.
"I have a meeting that will probably take all day. So, maybe at sunset. It's so beautiful then. So, maybe half past five?"
"That's fine. As soon as you're back, Bambi will disappear with Kojo."
Harry chuckles. "Yeah, he drives faster than he should now, desperate to get back to her. But today, I won’t complain. I’m already impatient for the day to be over," he drawls, his eyes holding mine. He turns his head to kiss my hand that's resting on his shoulder. His lips linger, and I feel their caress all the way up my arm.
I turn and walk away slowly. If I had half the sense I was born with, I'd be running.
That trouble I knew was coming but couldn't see? It's arrived. In the form of a walking, talking, breathing definition of tall, dark, and handsome.
My body is waking up and it’s screaming, “I offer myself as tribute.”
I want him. There's no harm in indulging myself here. I can still be in control. And when I’m done, I’ll go to my real life with this memory, this delicious moment, as a little bit of sweet to make all of the bitter more bearable.
12
Lilly
I’ve only been swimming once since that night. The smell of chlorine on my skin had made me violently ill. But, I love the water so much. It’s one of the things I’d vowed to reclaim while I was here in Ghana.
This morning after agreeing to meet Harry, I thought this was the time. If I’m going to go on a “date”, then I felt like I needed to conquer this first.
At three that afternoon, when the pool closed for the day and everyone left, I snuck back in despite the bouts of anxiety that had me questioning my sanity.
All of my doubts had dissipated as I discarded my clothes. One by one, all the reasons I’d had to avoid this for the last five years fell away. A final flash of doubt had threatened as I’d stood there in my bra and underwear, more naked than I had been outside my own bedroom in years.
But I didn’t stop.
I stand on the edge of the pool and dive headfirst into the water. It holds me in the sweetest of embraces as I start to swim. My muscles immediately cry with relief at the exertion. Tension seeps out of my fingertips with each stroke, anger pushes out through my toes with each kick. The pool is short, not even half a length, but I swim leisurely until my shoulders protest and my legs burn with the exertion.
That’s when I start to push myself. I swim faster, push harder. The pain is like an astringent, stripping me of the cloud of misery that’s clogged my mind for so long.
I can’t think of anything but how blissful it feels to be nearly naked, alone and safe in the water. Each lap brings a clarity that I haven’t felt in a long time. I think about the book I read on the five stages of grief. It listed denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I know that my experience is not a linear one. I’ve bargained and suffered a stunning loss. I’ve been angry and shut out everyone. I’m angry now, after five long years of denial, of stewing in it, of feeling it in the very marrow of my bones and having to pretend that it has not exhausted me.
My family has been in the midst of a crisis for the last fifteen years, and I was able to use that as an excuse to keep my distance and stay away. But all of that is over now. My parents have repaired a marriage that was tested by a prolonged absence. My sisters are both in committed relationships. My youngest sister is engaged, my older sister is headed in that direction. And then there’s me. What am I going to do with myself?
I don’t know what stage of my grief is next, but I pray I skip the denial and depression and go straight to acceptance.
I finally succumb to my muscles’ cry for rest and pull myself out of the pool. I stare into the dark water. I survived. No, I did more than that.
I got into the pool feeling afraid, self conscious, and more than a little sorry for myself. Now, I feel proud. I did it. My body sore, but it’s the delicious after burn of setting some of my demons free.
The sob escapes me. A gush of happy tears follow and I cry in relief.
Porsha’s right about one thing. While I’m here, I don’t have to be anyone I don’t want to be. Determined to leave my maudlin thoughts here too, I grab my towel and start to pick up my clothes. I’m wrapping my towel around myself when I hear footsteps.
“Stop!” I yell into the dark, panic welling up fast and hot. “Don’t come any closer.”
He stops, but I can see he wants to come closer. My heart races, even though I know my fear isn't rational. I know this man won't hurt me, but I can't put my arm down. He's already closer than I'd like.
"What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at five thirty?" My voice is pitched and panicky.
