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He tossed the guitar to the ground as if he couldn’t care if it broke or flew away and ran to his bride.
“It’s beautiful—isn’t it, baby?” he said, picking Zola up and spinning her around.
“More than I could’ve dreamed. So much more,” she answered in his arms.
Alton’s countenance had far surpassed his boyish oddities. While Zena often questioned his neo-soul singing skills, there was no doubt he looked like a neo-soul star. He had big, brown pouty eyes, natural muscles and a head of auburn dreads that looked more like wild coils. He was always singing or humming something sensual and went nowhere without his beloved acoustic guitar.
Surrounded by the waitstaff in the open-air living room overlooking the pool, Zena looked on awkwardly at Zola and Alton’s romantic reuniting. She smiled with pursed lips and unconsciously crossed her arms so she didn’t look as if she was expecting anyone to greet her with open arms.
“Uhhh, Mister Adan, he come now for you,” one of the housekeepers said to Zena.
“No, no, no,” Zena said, and nervously sputtered out, “He’s not for me. He’s my childhood friend. We aren’t together. He’s just a family friend. I don’t like him or anything.”
The housekeeper nodded at her, though it was obvious she wasn’t following along with the elaborate explanation of why a thirty-something woman was standing alone in the lobby of one of the most romantic villas in one of the most romantic places in the world.
“You guys are here!” Zena heard.
She turned to see Adan descending a set of black polished-concrete stairs that led to one of the bedrooms in the main house, where she was standing.
“Yes, we are,” she said.
Adan walked over to Zena and hugged her. Over his shoulder, Zena saw the housekeeper smiling at her knowingly.
“How were your travel
s?” Adan asked, releasing Zena a bit but not letting her out of his arms. He kind of rested them on her waist and leaned back to look at her.
“Safe?” Zena answered, stepping back to escape his embrace.
“Good to hear you were safe.” Adan nodded.
* * *
The night moon brought a delicious Balinese feast spread out on a long wooden table overlooking the black sand beach at Mahatma House. Dressed in all white, as requested by the house concierge, Alton and Zola, Adan and Zena arrived at their welcoming dinner to drink in a cornucopia of traditional culinary delights. Prawns as big as the men’s fists, nutty chicken satay right off the grill, sweet and spicy tempeh, and at the center of the table was the babi guling, a suckling pig that had been roasting in the yard most of the day.
The ocean breeze rolled up the strand, mixed with the food and tantalized all at the table.
“I hope they don’t think we’re going to eat all of this,” Zola said, looking over the foreign delicacies. “Look at all of this meat! And is this a baby pig? Yuck!”
“Well, if you don’t eat your portion, I’ll gladly take it,” Zena offered, sitting beside her. She’d seen Alton hungrily eyeing the porker since they’d sat at the table, and she remembered Zola pondering his going vegan with her on the plane.
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about! Let’s get our grub on!” Alton said before giving Zena a high five from the opposite side of the table where he was sitting beside Adan.
“So you’re eating everything on the table—even the meat?” Zola pointed to the steamy babi guling with the traditional apple stuffed into its mouth.
“Darling, we’re in paradise. I don’t think vegan rules apply,” Alton joked. “Besides, we’re not Muslim. A little pig never hurt nobody.”
“Not that little pig, anyway. I’m pretty sure it hasn’t hurt anybody,” Adan said, fixated on the baby pig as he rubbed his stomach. “What, you think that porker is like two weeks old?” He leaned over to Alton and laughed.
“I don’t know, but I bet he tastes good!” Alton replied, and both of the house waiters standing guard beside the table chuckled but then went back to their serious on-duty stances.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing! You guys are totally gross!” Zola complained.
“Okay! Okay! Okay! I’m totally sorry for grossing you out, future baby sister,” Adan said. He picked up a spoon and tapped at his glass, making a clatter. “Hear ye! Hear ye!” he began. “Now, if I may have your attention for a moment please. I need to make some announcements.”
Zena had taken in all of Adan in his loose-fitting white linen Havana shirt and trousers. He and Alton had only gotten to Bali two days before she’d arrived with Zola, but both men already had sufficient tans. Adan’s brown skin was a smooth pumpernickel now, and the white linen made his arms and face look like something to touch. She made sure to look away as he spoke. She spotted two dogs chasing waves a mile or so down the beach. No owner in sight, no people around at all; however, they still appeared to enjoy a kind of human fun on a beauteous evening between the black sky and black sand.
“First, I want to say I’m so happy we are all together,” Adan went on in her ear. “I’m so happy to share this amazing occasion with so many amazing—”
