Chapter 14
I’ve never met anyone like Keston Kips. From day one on that hill by Cocoa Reef Resort when he was star gazing and mistook me for a fallen star because of my glittery dress.
How cute is that?
Macho and masculine but also loving and supportive. Happy and carefree. But also fully committed.
And not just to me. To everything in his life. His job as the supreme mixologist at the resort.
His fishermen friends, who he helps by pulling in their nets with them most evenings. Taking only a fresh fish as a thank you.
And his physical therapy which he pursues like a demon to be 100% again.
The question playing on my mind is, “Who or what am I committed to?”
Sitting on the deck after we showered properly and changed into soft pajamas (well, I put on soft pajamas, he put on an old pair of soccer shorts), feet tucked under me, gazing at the bazillion stars dotting the sky while Keston peers into his old telescope, I must say I’m committed to my mom, whom I’m closer to than ever before.
And my girlfriends, for always having my back for the past twenty years.
Also, even though I have not met her yet, other than the day she was born, I’m committed to my daughter, Lucy. She’s coming to upstate New York to meet me and her grandmother at Thanksgiving. My heart thrills when I think about it. Only one more month.
And, of course, Keston. I am committed to him—heart, soul, everything.
But am I committed to living on St. Nicholas?
Can two people from completely different cultures and backgrounds make it work?
Like how an African prince turned pirate connected with a princess from Great Britain! I would love to hear that story.
Later, when Keston’s warm body wraps itself around mine and spoons me close for the entire night, I know I’ve never felt safer.
And all the pesky questions about whether we can make it work disappear.
The next morning, I awake to find Keston gone. The a/c blasts cool air. The sun beams through the curtains, making lacy patterns on the floor. His side of the bed is cool enough for me to realize he’s been gone for a while.
He left a note.
He went to help the Pirate Regatta events committee clean up and bring his boat back. He added:
Help yourself to anything. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
If you’re bored you can redecorate the house to your liking.
So you can move in! ASAP.
I love you.
KK
I grin. Redecorate? He’s joking. What would I fix? I wouldn’t change a thing. Keston’s home feels warm and lovely, with all the practical items he made himself.
Bamboo chairs on the porch, coconut-scented candles for when there’s a power outage, and a pink conch shell as a door stopper.
Not to mention the placemats and coasters woven from palm branches.
Calabash shells are polished until they gleam and used as bowls, bird feeders, and soap holders in the outdoor shower.
It’s perfect.
A braying comes from the yard. I peek out to see the donkey doing a high-stepping dance by the clothesline.
Is she nibbling on my jeans? No way!
“Go away!” I shout, walking down the front steps. But not too loudly, as I don’t want her to stampede me or anything.
I know what Keston needs to add to his home. A clothes dryer! So the donkey will stop stealing my clothes from the line. I watch as she trots down the dirt road. Back to wherever she came from.
For one infinitesimal second, I miss having her grey and white loopy presence in the yard. Now that she’s gone, everything feels too quiet.
Other than the sounds of the waves, the screeching parrots flying overhead, and oh yeah, the bamboo wind chimes. Nature is not quiet at all.