I am glad, and not surprised, that she asked me first about buying the gift, and about scheduling the lesson.
“
Thursday
will be best for me,” I say.
She laughs out loud at my blatant flirt. Smiles at me, and starts jogging. “Come on,” she says. “I said a surf lesson...”
We are getting close to where I parked, and she can see the public beach access steps coming over the dune. She slows down and begins walking to the steps. I follow along beside her. We stop at the bottom of the steps.
“
So you’ll have my coffee ready for me at nine?” she asks.
“
Yes,” I answer.
“
That’s something I could get used to,” she says.
My mind races. I’ve never been hurt by a renter. By a visitor. And after just three days I am going to be hurt terribly by this visitor who is no renter.
She climbs the first step, turns back towards me, puts her hands on my shoulders, draws me towards her, and kisses me. It is the softest kiss I have ever experienced. And my first real kiss since I can’t remember when. I can taste the salt from her run, and feel the lean muscles in her arms.
“
I could get used to that too,” she says. “See you at nine.”
She steps past me, heads back towards the firm sand near the water, and starts jogging up the beach towards her house.
My head spins, the taste of her salty kiss still fresh on my lips.
I am in deep trouble.
Joe
“
Good run?” Karen asks.
“
Yes. She can really run.”
“
You didn’t try to keep up did you?”
“
Wisely no. She warmed up with me, then did a couple of mile repeats really fast, then cooled down with me.”
“
So she’s really that fast?”
“
Yes. You should see her form. It’s perfect.”
“
Taken out of context you may have just asked me to go lesbian,” Karen says.
“
Shut up,” Joe says.
They share a laugh.
“
She kissed me,” Joe adds.
“
What?” Karen says.
“
She ran back to the steps with me, then she kissed me. I was totally not ready for that.”
“
But don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it,” Karen says.
“
I wasn’t thinking about it. Not right then. I was just liking being out on the beach with her, and thinking about how she’s heading home tomorrow. So I wasn’t thinking about it at all.”
“
How was it?”
“
Salty,” Joe says.
“
Nice,” Karen teases.
“
She asked if she could buy me a surf lesson for my birthday.”
“
She asked?”
“
Yeah. I thought it was very good form to ask like that. First, that I wouldn’t be weirded out by getting the gift, and second, whether I really wanted the lesson. She’s different like that.”
“
Yeah she’s different. And rich.”
“
Rich? What are you talking about?”
“
She struck oil. Literally. Right after she struck natural gas. So she’s rich.”
“
Exactly how do you know this?”
“
Google. Her sister said you Googled her, and found out about her and her sister. So I did the same, but apparently more extensively and then I actually read the articles instead of just looking at the pictures.”
“
Did you have to?” Joe asks.
“
No. But I love you and I was curious. Do you want to know how rich?”
“
Could I stop you?”
“
No.”
“
Alright then. Is she richer than me?”
“
If we are going to calibrate our scale by saying you are rich, then on that same scale she is filthy rich,” Karen said.
“
Wow. Well at least that solves that usual problem.”
“
I’ll say,” Karen says.
Shannon
“
I kissed him,” Shannon tells Cara.
“
You didn’t!”
“
I did!”
“
How was it?”
“
He wasn’t ready for it. I took him by surprise. So, he was kinda stiff.”
“
I’ll bet he was,” Cara leers.
“
Cara! Stop it!” Shannon says as they share a conspiratorial laugh.
“
He said it was okay to buy him the surf lesson,” Shannon says.
“
That’s cool. Can you do it online?”
“
Yes. I’m going to look after it right now, and then give him the certificate when I go over for coffee.”
“
You’re going over for coffee again? Right after you kissed him?”
“
Yes. And after coffee I’m going to kiss him again. He’ll be ready for it this time, so we’ll get a much better read on the second one.”
“
Yeah the first one can be awkward,” Cara says.
“
How would you know?” Shannon asks.
“
I don’t. It just sounded like the right thing to say.”
Shannon
I kissed him. I actually kissed him. That is not what I’m like. But, apparently it is what I am like. Because I kissed him. He didn’t expect it. And he didn’t know what to do. I didn’t really expect it either. But I felt so good from the miles on the beach, it just seemed right. He didn’t whine or cry about being left alone on the beach, and he was happy to warm up and cool down with me. And the way he was looking at me when I ran up on him after the second repeat. That look was filled with lust.
The kiss felt right. He feels right. Is it because I know I can leave whenever I want? Is it because I know he won’t come after me? That he is so tied to this place that he couldn’t possibly tie me down in any way? Is that why he feels right? Because I know his reach and dominion can never extend in to mine, and that he won’t be able to impinge on my habits?
Joe
She kissed me. She actually kissed me. I liked it, once I realized what was happening. I can’t believe I didn’t try to kiss her back. But then again she didn’t really give me a chance. Why would she kiss me like that? The day before she’s leaving. Is that it? Is it because she’s leaving? Or because she just ‘had to know’ what it would feel like to kiss me? Or was she able to kiss me with impunity because she knows she’s leaving and that it can’t possibly lead to anything. Her being a ‘Thursday’ and all? That’s got to be it, because she’s leaving, so she was free to kiss me just to kiss me. Not to kiss me to lead me on, or to kiss me out of some social convention, or for any reason other than she just felt like kissing me.
I think I will lean over the counter and kiss her when she comes in. Right off the bat. And then give her a cup of coffee and let her have the whole cup of coffee to think it over. And then, when she’s getting ready to leave, I will ask her if I can kiss her again. And if she says yes, it’s going to be a full on kiss. A hug and a kiss and a long time between breaths. Wow. Down boy.
She is wearing a different outfit, not the sundress. A skirt, just above the knees, and a blouse floating free, not tucked in. She looks good, still glowing from the run. I am wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Pretty slovenly, even for me.
“
Is my coffee ready?” she asks, slipping onto the stool at the end of the counter.
“
Almost,” I say. Before she knows what is happening, I lean over the counter and kiss her on the cheek.
“
You
are
a cheeky man,” she says.
I am unsure whether she is upset.
Seeing my uncertainty, she stands and looks me in the eye.
“
You missed,” she says. She walks around the counter, puts her arms around my waist, draws me near, and kisses me on the mouth. She pulls me closer, kisses me longer, and then releases me. She returns to her side of the counter.
“
Here’s your surf lesson,” she says. She slides a printed page across the counter. “I arranged it all online, they will have the surf board and everything, you just show up. They said a rash guard or a tight fitting shirt of any kind is a good idea, and lots of sun screen.”
“
Thank you,” I say. I look at the printed sheet. “There’s a mistake on here.”
“
I don’t think so,” she answers.
“
You paid for two lessons.”
“
I know,” she answers.
“
I don’t get it.”
“
I thought I would join you for the lesson, if that’s alright,” she says.
I am unable to respond immediately.
“
But I thought you were leaving tomorrow?”
“
I think I’ll stay for a while. At least until
Thursday
. Look after getting my house cleaned properly, and then stay at my cottage.”
“
Don’t you have to go to work?” I ask.
“
Yes, but I can work on the computer while I’m here, I don’t need to be back at the lab or the digs until Labor Day. But then I one hundred percent have to be back at the lab. Even though I’m the boss, I do have to work, and lead by example.”
“
I know how that feels.”
“
So you’re the boss?” she asks.
“
Everywhere except around you.”
The coffee is ready so I slide her cup across to her. She sips.
“
It really is excellent coffee,” she says.
“
Thanks. So, um, ah, while you’re here, can I see you?”
“
Yes,” she answers. “I’d like that. I really enjoyed my workout on the beach this morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good running partner. You were good on the warm up and on the cool down and you didn’t mind about the repeats. I like that. Everyone I’ve tried running with feels like they either have to try to keep up or has to talk incessantly or has to explain why they can’t keep up. It’s pretty tiring. I tried meeting a few partners through eHarmony.com and Match.com, but none of them worked out. All the guys who said they were ‘athletic’ were delusional, unless their sport was beer league softball. All the guys who said they were six feet tall were actually five ten, and all the guys who said they were five foot x were actually five foot x minus three or four or five. It’s not like I care how tall a guy is, but if he says he’s six foot tall and athletic and he turns out to be five nine and fat, that’s not really getting off on the right foot is it? So the few dates I’ve tried have all been running dates, which weeds out about 90% of the guys right away, and then no-one has measured up, so I am really happy that you are a good running partner.”
She stops. Takes a breath.
She realizes she has carried on a very lengthy soliloquy.
“
Sorry,” she says.
“
For what?”
“
For going on and on like that,” she says.
“
I always have time to listen to something that matters. And running and running partners clearly matter to you, so please go on.”
She searches my eyes, examines my face and posture, trying to decide whether I am for real, whether I really will have time to listen to things that matter. She has already mentioned that her ex never really listened, that it was very frustrating, because she would have to repeat things three or four times in different ways, and even then she was never quite sure he got what she was saying.
I decide to prod her.
“
I rarely run with anyone. I like the quiet on the beach in the morning. So I like it that you don’t talk my ear off. And I don’t mind it when you take off for your speed work. It’s beautiful to watch, and really adds something to the morning. And then, if you’re going to kiss me after running, well, that’s just icing on the cake.”
She blushes.
“
So you’d like to go running again tomorrow morning?” she asks.
“
Yes.”
“
It’s a date. My family will be gone and the house will be empty. It’s always a little sad for me to be left behind like that. So, after running tomorrow, why don’t you get cleaned up and then bring our coffee over to my house? I would like to walk on the beach and drink my coffee, after running.”
“
See you tomorrow.”
She gets up, blows me a kiss across the counter, and walks back to her car.