Page 44 of That Birthday in Barbados
As tempting as it might be.
Reality check. A gorgeous young man took pity on a woman spending her fortieth birthday alone and asked her out to dinner. Things went a little farther than either of us planned. And here’s where reason re-enters the picture.
No more thinking about kissing on the beach. No more wondering what it would be like?
I stop that thought there, place the lid back on my tray and pick up my novel. Vacation. Tanning. Reading. Escape the winter cold for a few sun-kissed days. And then back to reality. Work. And the very different life I lead in New York City.
Chapter Seventeen
“I am always doing that which I cannot do,in order that I may learn how to do it.”
?Pablo Picasso
Catherine
OF COURSE MY resolve only lasts until mid-morning the following day when a text from Anders pops up on my phone.
I’d opted out of spin, deciding to run on the beach instead since I didn’t have enough faith in my will power to test it by actually having to see him face to face.
The text contains a simple invitation.
Up for an adventure today?
The answer should be simple enough.Busy with a book on the beach today. No can do.
But then I tell myself this willend of its own accord. Time will run out like sand in an hourglass, and I’ll be on a plane back to Manhattan and the sun, the sand, the sea turtles, and Anders, too, will all be part of the past, sweet memories, and nothing but.
*
ANDERS DRIVES US to Seabird Parasailing in a vintage Land Rover Defender. It’s light-blue, boxy with open sides and a canvas roof. The seats are anything but cushy, but it’s the perfect island vehicle. I hold my arm out the window, loving the warm air and the unexpected glimpses I get of the ocean along the way.
“There’s something I should probably tell you,” I say, leaning my head against the seat and trying not to let my concern show.
“You’re scared of heights?” he says, nailing me.
“A little?”
“I defer to Eleanor Roosevelt. ‘You must do the thing you think you cannot do.’”
“Excellent in theory,” I say, glancing out my side of the truck where a trio of goats are grazing the yard of a small house. “What if I get up there and decide I can’t do it?”
“I’ll be right beside you. They have a two-person parasail.”
I admit to breathing a sigh of relief. “If I fall out, does that mean you’ll dive in after me?”
He laughs, hanging a left on a road that winds toward the ocean. “At your service, ma’am.”
I smile and shake my head, wondering how I let myself get talked into this. “You know my original idea was something benign, like a picnic.”
“You’ll do great.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you don’t like to let things beat you.”
I lean out and give him a look. “And how do you know that?”
“I pay attention. I want to know what makes you tick.”
