14. Soaring and Sinking
fourteen
Soaring and Sinking
Dean
On Saturday, I instructed my yacht crew to prepare drinks, lunch, and snacks. I also informed them that my new wife was going to be there, and that they should expect orders from her throughout our one-day journey. It was the first time for me to take the yacht out since mom had died, and I wanted to relax there more than anything.
When Emma came out of the house in her yellow sundress, revealed by her open coat and straw hat, she was a lovely sight enough to brighten the darkest of days. I wondered if I could get used to seeing her like this, with the air tousling her hair, and her smile reflecting every hope under the sun.
From the moment we stepped onto the yacht, I realized that this wasn’t going to be like any other time I had taken a girlfriend on a yacht trip. Not only did Emma greet everyone working aboard like they were soon to be friends; she even offered to lend a helping hand when one of them started to set up the breakfast table.
Captivated by observing her like an alien soul from a faraway planet, I realized that her mind still hadn’t registered the fact that she was technically a millionaire now. She wasn’t moving, talking or behaving like a woman who had a million dollars in the bank and owned a luxury penthouse worth north of three million. Emma was still Emma, an assistant at heart, satisfied with seeing purpose in helping others.
“Emma,” I called out her name from where I lounged in the corner, and she turned to me, her hands frozen halfway in the air with a stack of empty plates. “They can do all that.”
Her smile turned awkward for a second before she shrugged, resuming the task at hand, returning that confidence to her lips. “So can I.”
“Come.” I beckoned her over with an inviting gesture of my hand. “Sit next to me. You don’t want to miss this view.”
After setting down the last plate, she instinctively rubbed her hands against her hips and walked toward me, her eyes turning to where I was gazing. Her smile turned to a grin. “Wow, will you look at that.” Sitting down next to me, she smelled like fresh jasmine. “Do you get to see your house from here?”
Leaning closer to her ear, I whispered, “ Our house.”
She turned to look into my eyes and, as if surprised by my proximity, withdrew an inch for only a moment before adjusting her position, chuckling. “Yeah. Point me to where it should be.”
Extending my right arm, I pointed with my index finger. “See the last tower to the left?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“Now, follow the trees further left. You can see the top, it’s that little brown bit there.”
“Oh my God! There it is!” She laughed.
Instead of looking at the house, I gazed at her profile. The way she laughed. The arc of her lips. The bend below the tip of her nose. “Yeah,” I whispered. “There it is.”
If only there was a way for me to erase the past. She didn’t deserve to carry all of that sorrow inside of her; nobody did .
Abruptly turning to me, she prompted me to quickly sit back and pretend to be examining the view. I felt confused and hyper aware of every move I made, like a teenage boy with his first-time crush.
Should I let her know how I felt?
Would it make her happy?
Or would it scare her away?
“Mr. and Mrs. Allen, breakfast is ready,” Thomas—one of the crew members—politely announced.
“Great, thank you, Tom!” Emma stood up, turning to me. “I’m starving. Shall we?”
Residing to the fact that the moment was gone, I rubbed my hands against my thighs and stood, grateful for the sunshades that concealed the slight let down I was feeling. “Let’s eat.”
Along with the food, Emma’s grin gleamed when she looked at the mimosas served on the table. “Day drinking.” She nodded in evident approval. “I like it!” Picking up the glass, she took a big sip, her lips squeezed against each other as she savored the flavors. “Gee, this is good.”
“Don’t you want to have a bite first?” I furrowed my eyebrows.
“Oh, I will.” She enthusiastically picked up a club sandwich, holding it with both hands. “It also looks good.” Looking around her, she took a bite and chewed quietly for a moment. I watched her amusement with some of my own. “You know, you got some seven-star service here.”
“Yeah, well…” I shrugged, taking a bite of my omelet.
“The ladies must really like it.”
Dipping my head, I stared at her from under my sunglasses. “ You’re the ladies,” I warned .
She chuckled, nodding quickly. “Yes, yes.” She then leaned in closer, whispering. “I’m just wondering why you were single before. I mean— how? ”
“Just because they want to be here doesn’t mean I want them here.”
Playfully wrinkling her nose, she picked up her beverage and drank some. “I guess I should feel lucky then.”
“Do you?” I asked, seriously meaning to hear the answer. “Feel lucky?”
I couldn’t see her eyes now that the sun had struck the shiny surface of her sunglasses so brutally. The only hints I received were through the motions of her lips and the way she smiled. “Of course.”
“Why?” I pulled my seat, shifting to get closer to her. “I mean… would you want to live like this for good?”
She raised one shoulder, as if pondering my question. “Isn’t it good enough to enjoy the moment and what it brings?”
After a few seconds of silence, I asked, “Do you ever long for more?”
“This isn’t one of the basic necessities one wishes to have, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“What do you wish to have?”
Popping the last piece of her sandwich into her mouth, she struggled comically to chew what turned out to be a bite too large for her mouth. Stifling a laugh, she stood up, covering her mouth in cute embarrassment. When she was finally done, she picked up the glass and chugged down the remainder of her mimosa. “Right now? Another one of these.” She held up the empty glass. “And then a serious dip.”
“That’s insane. It’s freezing down there.”
“What about that?” She pointed at the indoor pool on the yacht. “You can’t convince me that that isn’t heated. ”
“Ah.” I nodded, pouring her a drink as she towered over me, blocking the sun. “Go ahead. I’ll finish eating this.”
Shrugging, she took her drink and headed toward the glass enclosure. “I’ll be waiting for you, mister!”
While I sat outside, I watched her take off her coat inside, tossing it on the sofa before dipping her legs into the pool. Even though I continued to chew my food, I did it half-mindedly, observing how she closed her eyes, threw back her head, and descended to float on the water. The pool was illuminated from below, giving her an ethereal glow as she laid on the blue surface, bobbing ever so softly.
It wasn’t long before I realized that I had been completely consumed to notice that I’d finished my food—and two drinks—, fully engrossed in that serene scene of Emma swimming alone. Through the glass, she looked like a creature from another time and place.
Finally, I decided to join her. As I stood up, I took two fresh glasses with cool refills and stepped inside, barefoot, feeling my weight dance against the waxed wood with the soles of my feet.
“How’d you like it so far?”
She laughed, running her hands back, smoothing her hair. “Are you kidding? I never thought I could do this in February! ”
“Well, you’re welcome to do this any time you want.” I took off my shirt and pants, leaving nothing on but my swim trunks. As I descended slowly down the stairs, I watched her observe me. Her eyes were bright and her face wet, droplets of water shining on her lips, rendering them redder and more tempting than ever.
As soon as I was fully immersed in the warm water, I made my way closer to her, looking around through the glass. The crew was busy doing what they did, and it felt like we were completely alone.
“I didn’t picture the view from in here to be just as amazing,” she said. “But then again, I’ve never been on a superyacht before. ”
“I’m glad you like it.” I swam closer until only inches separated us. As if she were beginning to see what I was doing, Emma’s limbs stopped moving, and she fixed herself in place, looking into my eyes. I thought she was holding her breath because of how still she had become, nothing moving but the gentle mini-waves of water around her. When our faces grew closer and I could finally see the depth in her eyes, I whispered, “What are you thinking?”
“That this is the part in the story where we kiss,” she whispered, her eyes alternating between my eyes and my mouth.
I let my hand cross the imaginary line between us, reaching for a floating lock of her hair, flirting with it with my fingertips. “Would that be so bad?”
“It would be confusing as hell,” she confessed.
“I don’t know about you,” I held onto the lock of hair between my fingers before gripping it, coming closer and holding it near my mouth. “But I’m already there.”
“Dean,” she whispered, her eyes examining the way I clung onto the tips of her hair. “You are confused. Don’t do anything that you’ll regret.”
Inching closer, I felt our legs collide under the water. “You mean something like this?” Kissing her, I felt our lips slide against each other by the effect of the water. It was only for a fraction of a second, before she parted hers, and I let my tongue anchor itself in the nest of her mouth.
Before either one of us could resort to better judgment, we were lost in the kiss. Instead of holding onto just one lock of her hair, my hands found their delight in the weight of her head, holding it at the base and pulling it closer to me.
When I felt Emma’s legs get entangled with mine, I took it as a sure sign of approval. So, I moved one hand down to her waist, hugging her under the water while our heads remained above, lost in this enchanting moment.
The day was long enough for us to exchange a thousand kisses, but barely enough to find the ultimate release between these glass walls. There was something exceptionally delicious about knowing that we couldn’t go all the way here. Something that kept the fire going for hours upon hours.
When the sun began to set, Emma and I stood inside our glass haven, watching the colors of the sky change outside. Yes, the wind was growing mightier; the air, cooler; the clouds, thicker. But the warmth of everything that spawned between us made it all worthwhile.
Halfway drunk on alcohol and the general mood, Emma stood still as my arms remained wrapped around her from behind. She whispered, “I am going to miss you for sure.”
Why did she have to bring up reality at a moment like this? The reminder felt like a cold hand squeezing my heart tight, radiating pain through my chest and beyond. “Let’s not think about that now.”
“You’re right.” She softly and slowly rotated in my arms until she faced me, raising her arms to place them over my shoulders. As they encircled my neck, her eyes gazed almost lovingly into mine.
“Now,” she whispered, “you kiss me again.”
And I did.
Again and again and again, feverishly and hungrily, like time itself was about to end.