Chapter 9 #3
“Probably,” she thought. He was a man after all.
“Well...” She decided she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction; she would put on the black skirted one-piece granny suit she had brought.
It was understated, elegant and modest; as she saw herself.
Sure, she could picture it on Dot, but it was the perfect suit to wear under the circumstances; she wouldn’t be giving Michael the wrong idea.
As she shuffled through her bag, she grew tense. She couldn’t find it. Had she forgotten it? She clearly remembered packing it. As she practically emptied the tightly packed bag, she saw it: the suit. But it wasn’t the one she had packed; it was the white bikini.
“Damn you, Robert.”
She knew exactly how it had gotten there.
What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t wear this.
She considered her options for a minute.
Maybe she could borrow a suit from Michelle or Dot.
Michelle’s would be too small and she couldn’t bear the idea of crawling to Dot, telling her she had forgotten her bathing suit.
Dot would probably make her work for it; sit with her on the patio while she smoked, or paint her toes or something.
Not worth it. She decided to wear the suit with a cover up she had brought.
But, she knew the cover up would have to come off if she was going swimming.
She slowly walked over to the dock, quite self-conscious.
“Well. It’s about time!” Dot yelled at her as Angela walked carefully down the dock. Dot was wearing a black suit not unlike the one Angela had packed.
As Angela took a seat on one of the empty lounger chairs, she noticed that everyone was quite occupied in their own activities, and paid no attention to her.
Michelle and Eric were already swimming, Michael was sitting on the edge of the dock, and Dot was lying on a large chair, resting under her large brimmed hat. This wouldn’t be so bad.
“There’s a jacket over there for you, little chicken.” Dot pointed at the stairs were a bright yellow and blue life jacket was hanging on the post of the stairway.
“Thanks.”
Angela spotted the bottles of sunscreen, and remembered she still had yet to put any on. She grabbed a bottle and took her cover-up off. No one was looking anyway.
As she slathered the sunscreen on, looking at the beautiful lake, she felt eyes on her. As she turned around, she saw Michael staring at her; he didn’t even attempt to look away. He looked at her for a second or two.
“So, you going in?” he asked her, taking off his t-shirt. She barely had a chance to look at his nice back as he jumped in the water.
Feeling suddenly conscious of her bikini, she grabbed the life jacket and put it on. She sat on the edge of the dock, dipping her feet. The water was as cold as she had predicted. She wasn’t sure she was going to go through with this.
“The water’s great,” Michael told her as he swam close to her.
Yeah, right.
“No really, I’m good here,” she said, suddenly remembering the dock spiders Michael had mentioned. She had the urge to jump but she still couldn’t do it.
“It’s like a band-aid,” he told her. “You’ve got to jump right in,” he explained as he grabbed her arm and pulled her in.
The shock of dropping into the cold water made her breathless. Her heartbeat raced. Thankfully, she was wearing the jacket and hadn’t gone in too deep.
“I can’t believe you,” she yelled at him. “You are such a...”
“A what?” He laughed.
“...a pain in the rear.”
“You would have never done it,” he told her as he swam to her. “You would have sat on that dock all day.” He looked even better with his hair wet, off his face. She stared in his grey blue eyes, lost for a second. She had already forgiven him. It was hard no to.
“You’re ok with the jacket? You feel comfortable in the water?” he asked, suddenly concerned.
“Yes, this is not so bad,” she joked, threading water. “I’m kind of glad you threw me in.”
He smiled and looked at her, in the way that he would sometimes, a little twitch in his jaw, his eyes intense. This look made her melt. She could melt and disappear right there in this fantastic lake.
Michelle and Eric made their way back; they had gone off quite a ways. They were strong swimmers, and Angela envied them a little.
“That was so funny,” Eric said, in his broken French accent.
“No, it wasn’t.” Angela disagreed, laughing.
Dot sat on her lounge chair, enjoying the show.
“Hey Mum, you better get in here or I’ll do the same thing to you,” Michael told her.
“Oh ,you would never do that to an old woman.” She knew she was secure in her position.
Michael took off his wet trunks, looking out through the window of his cabin, at the lake. He didn’t see the lake since he only had one thing on his mind. He couldn’t help being a little irritated with her.
Was she purposely trying to make this weekend unbearable for him; showing up on the dock in that sexy white bikini. She was being cruel. She deserved to be thrown in the lake; payback.
He couldn’t shake the vision of her, standing there on the dock, the curves of a Goddess, perfectly round and soft; the contrast of her olive skin against the white of her bikini. He couldn’t help but imagine her in the cabin next to her, slipping out of her bikini, her long hair still wet.
He felt a surprising frustration; a tension in himself.
He was mad at everyone; at his mother for masterminding this whole situation, at Angela for wearing that bikini, but mostly at himself for not having the discipline to stop thinking about her.
He was resentful for being put in this situation; he felt like a child standing at the window of a candy shop, looking at all the colors and flavors, mouth watering, but not allowed to go in.
She was definitely going to drive him to insanity by the end of the weekend.
Before dinner, Angela and the kids went blueberry picking towards the center of the island where the trees shaded them from the sun.
Angela got to chat with them a little more; Michelle seemed to take quite a liking to her.
She suggested they team up for a game Boccee Ball against Eric and her father; determined to beat them.
They spoke both English and French; both practicing their second language. Angela was surprised by the amount of blueberries they managed to pick; enough to make blueberry muffins or pancakes the next morning.
Michael was grilling steaks, chicken and hamburgers for dinner. Angela and the kids helped set the patio table; Michael had suggested eating outside and everyone was in agreement since it was such a wonderful night. Angela filled the glasses with lemon ice water.
Dot sat on a lounge chair not far from the table, looking at everyone hard at work, still up to her antics.
“So did you all enjoy your swim?” she said, smiling, not really waiting for an answer. “I’m sure Michael enjoyed the view,” she teased.
“Of course I did, it’s a great day. Look at that sky,” he said smiling, knowing very well what she was implying.
Angela felt a little uncomfortable and ran into the cottage, on the pretense of going to get more water. She took as long as she could possibly take. She was going to kill Dot.
When she finally made her way back, reluctantly, Michael was serving up the meat and burgers.
She sat as far away from Michael’s seat as she could; which unfortunately left her sitting right next to Dot.
She glared at her. Dot gave her a childish grin, quite aware she was irritating her as much as humanly possible.
As she helped herself to some salad, Angela wondered if one could go to hell for merely daydreaming of beating and eighty-ish year old woman.
Angela suggested they speak French while eating dinner; after all Michael needed to practice.
Wasn’t that why she was there? Dot didn’t seem impressed.
Angela figured Dot couldn’t say anything too embarrassing if she couldn’t speak the language.
It was one clever way to shut her up. Angela promised to translate for her as needed.
As she enjoyed the perfectly grilled meat, homemade potato salad and gourmet Caesar salad, Angela couldn’t believe that Michael had made all this.
Sure, he had the assistance of his sous-chefs Michelle and Eric.
Not only was the man kind and gorgeous but he could cook like no tomorrow.
He was too good to be true. She could not fathom why on earth his ex-wife would ever leave him.
She looked at him from across the table; he was speaking to Eric about soccer.
Angela loved every detail of his face; his eyes, his wide grin, the freckles on his nose, his messy hair.
She didn’t realize she was staring at him when he caught her and looked at her; in the same way she had looked at him.
A second or two passed, she looked away.
On second thought, maybe she should have sat on the other side, where they could not directly look at each other.
She could take it a step farther and go eat inside, or maybe leave the place all together.
She wasn’t doing as well as she thought she would.
He had a power over her; he didn’t even have to say a word.
She was completely in love. She finally admitted to herself, right there, eating potato salad; definitely not the most romantic moment ever…
she was in love with another man. Another man?
He wasn’t really another man, was he? He was the only one.
She wasn’t in love with Robert. She was in love with Michael.
She got up and excused herself, her meal half eaten; she had lost her appetite. Michael asked her if she was ok. She nodded yes and took her plate.