One More Year: The Romantic Path of Ana Lee (The Path Less Taken Series Book 1)

by SJ Cavaletti

  He did look up and calmed. His eyes closed, then opened again and he stared out, watching and growing pensive. He was thinking of something, something that made the corners of his mouth twitch upward in a thoughtful, happy smirk.

  He moved his eyes to my face and said, “You know, one of my children, my boy, he has tourettes. What’s funny is that when he was smaller I used to take him outside and we’d lie on the grass and look at the clouds. Search for shapes. I had always thought it calmed him, relaxed his mind; but just now, as I’m kind of doing the same thing, I wonder if it was also taking some fear away from him. I suppose anytime we humans are feeling out of control, it’s frightening.”

  He squeezed my hand.

  “I really do love you, Ana. I know it’s probably not kosher to say that quite yet but I do. I don’t expect you to say it back. I know your mind is the calculating type and you probably don’t have all the information to make your computation but I am well and truly in love with you.”

  I felt a physical pang in my heart at that moment. I can still feel it now as I tell this story. It was as if I was about to have a heart attack. My heart did about four beats and increased in size so intensely it was as if it was trying to pump oil instead of blood. It worked hard which made my chest tight and I had to take a deep breath. I wanted so badly to say “I love you” back but I had never told a man I loved him before. I was tongue-tied. It felt like I had a speech impediment. My whole body malfunctioned.

  Nothing makes you feel stronger than caring for one who is weaker. Carlos’ fear nearly vanished as he sensed my own arising.

  “Enough talk then. Let’s enjoy this view… it really is a stunning place. I’ve been here quite a few times and I never realized that while you are in it you can’t look at it.”

  “Now there’s a profound truth,” I said.

  Another hand squeeze.

  “I so wish I could kiss you,” he said, “that’s the only rubbish part of this thing. We are inches away from true romance.”

  He stretched his lips out, almost comically, but the harnesses were rigidly set apart and a smooch would just not happen.

  Instead we looked out together, at the same vision, at the same future that awaited us. The charm of Monaco widened our pupils like dopamine and the luxury of it drove our bodies to dance. If he had wanted me to fall in love with him, he had picked the right spot. The landscape was regal, inspiring and it somehow whispered, “Forever.”

  For a moment, I pretended we would just be able to run away and get married… live happily ever after like normal people. The calculations started to creep in and I gave my head a literal shake to expel them to the sea below. “Sink logic… sink… and don’t come back for a week.”

  Carlos looked at me, wondering what was going through my head but he didn’t ask. He was happy to let me be silent after his massive confession. Somehow silence felt like the right thing now.

  After the sensational parasailing ride we docked and spent a few hours cuddling on the deck of the yacht. It was a sunny, light-hearted canoodle and in between we spoke of his businesses, his children and my friends back in San Francisco.

  I explained how Jamie (who he had only remembered as Charlie and Angelica likewise as Valentina), really needed some help finding a career path as she was desperate to find a ‘real job’ and meet a ‘normal’ man. I had always tried to help as much as possible but the sad truth was that a combination of her seeing dyslexia as a barrier, and drugs, seemed to get in the way.

  I realized just then that by association Carlos would probably know I did drugs as well. I started to feel raw- my darker side exposed. But in true Carlos fashion, he did not think about how everything affected him, he focused on the story you were trying to tell and helped push it forward. He engaged, bit off the story and chewed it, rather than, as most people did, receive the story as a sieve that caught the bits relevant to their ego.

  In the past I had found conversation dull with a lot of people. It had always seemed as though all people ever took in from discussion were the parts they could relate to. How boring life must be when one only absorbs the details interesting to them! As a math mind, I had always been attracted to any and all information, knowing that any details that could not be used now may come in handy later. I had no sieve at all. I was a sponge. Carlos was just like that. We soaked each other in limitlessly.

  Carlos helped me think about Jamie and how I might be able to help her. He gave me concrete suggestions and taught me how to project manage my friend into the existence she wanted. As we talked, I noticed shadows evolving over the deck of the boat and on Carlos’ body. The sun was setting. It hardly seemed possible we had been talking for three hours. Suddenly Carlos shot up.

  “Let’s get dressed quickly. Have some champagne on the top deck and go celebrate the day over dinner. I’ve got us booked in at my friend’s place. You’ll love it and it screams Monaco.” He motioned his hand across the sky like a director painting a picture of a film.

  I ran down to our cabin but Carlos changed in a different room. He was the king of manners. What woman wants to get ready in front of her date? Although I only had a few choices for a nice dinner out I panicked about what to wear. I hadn’t asked what kind of place it was. Not necessary… surely? Monte-Carlo required sophistication everywhere, right? But then he said it was his ‘friend’s’ place. I didn’t want to walk out in a cocktail dress when Carlos was wearing jeans and a button down.

  A knock at the door.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Ana but just to say I’ll be wearing a suit,” he said behind the wood.

  “Ah, ok, thanks… that helps,” I replied, and giggled.

  Gosh… he was fucking perfect.

  I immediately grabbed my little black dress. I had loved this dress the instant I saw it. In silhouette it resembled a corset and mimicked sexy lingerie with dramatic stitching and strategically placed chiffon. The texture was amazing, sexy but also classy. The dress was the type where the beholder would see what he or she wanted, be it elegance or sensuality. And considering the designer label it cost me a night’s wages, I felt certain it could hold up to the standard in the room.

  When I finally smoothed my last hair into place, I went up on the deck and the sun warmed the horizons of the future, leaving us with a red glowing goodbye. The sky was stunning but it was Carlos that struck me. He looked so youthful. He wore a pale yellow fitted suit with a lilac shirt. The hue complemented his honey brown skin and his body filled it in like a supermodel. A red and black kerchief was folded neatly into the corner pocket of his chest. He looked divine and I was taken aback by his fashion forward look after experiencing a distinctly conservative one, until now.

  We looked each other up and down and said in unison, “Wow.”

  He chuckled and then reached for two glasses of champagne that were, as seemed to be always, waiting for us on the serving tray of one of the many staff who attended to our every whim. He handed one to me.

  “You like?” He asked, gesturing up and down his suit.

  “How could I not? You look like you just stepped off a Versace runway,” I said.

  “I have to confess, I asked Abby to source some things for this week. I wanted to impress you.”

  “Aw… that’s really cute. And don’t get me wrong, you look amazing but I was already impressed by the stuff you can’t buy.”

  We clinked our glasses and he wrapped his arm around me, ushering my body toward the sunset. We looked outward at the Monaco skyline.

  “No matter what happens, Ana, between us… I’d like to think that we will always have this sunset. Take a picture with your mind.”

  And that’s what I did. I looked out at a magical summer scene. The sun set and turned red-orange while the water took on a deep purple hue. The skyline of Monaco darkened and lights began to twinkle in the buildings. A few of the buildings on the darker side of the bay lit up entirely, looking like burning embers of a fire not ready to extinguish. It was enchanting. C
lick. Store photo.

  Mesmerized by the landscape, an even better one came into view when he pulled my shoulders around until my stomach came into contact with his hips. He was so much bigger than I that all I could feel was one of his hip bones and the faint whisper of his manhood. He pulled me upward and inward, my toes reaching up like a ballerina so that our lips could touch. I placed one hand up on his tall, strong shoulder, the other I wrapped around him, wanting to be closer, to press into him until we melted into one. Paradise.

  It wasn’t eager. It wasn’t hasty. It was as pure like a high school sweetheart but experienced and tasty like the tannins of a mature wine. It was everything I wanted it to be and more.

  We enjoyed the sunset until the sky turned completely dark and our faces were illuminated no longer by the sun, but by the soft lights of the yacht.

  Suddenly a deckhand appeared behind us and said, “Sir, I believe it’s time to head to dinner. Shall I arrange the car or… perhaps cancel?” He asking, sharing a mischievous smile with the lovers before him.

  Before I had time to consider that the chef on board was world class and we could have just as easily had a mind-blowing meal in the master suite, Carlos put down his champagne flute, half out his bent arm for me to hold and said, “Shall we?”

  Carlos thanked the deckhand. Before I knew it we stepped into his fairy dust car and it whisked us off to the Hotel de Paris.

  The hotel was grand like of a French castle meeting the simple grace of a perfectly symmetrical snowflake. We walked through the opulent lobby and ended up in in a restaurant being led to a table along a floor that resembled the back of a shiny, smooth python.

  We talked endlessly from the yacht to the table. No subject was taboo and he seemed particularly interested in my parents and family. As we sat waiting for dessert, he touched back on the subject of my father.

  “So, when are you going to see your dad next?” He asked.

  Strangely the high of fizz and love eliminated the usual confusion that surrounded thinking about my father. I really loved that Carlos would not be satisfied regarding my deep issues until I was.

  “Carlos, I have no clue. The truth is, I’m not sure he wants to see me anymore. What’s there to talk about anyway… or if we even need to see one another? I paused, trying to think of a way to illustrate my conclusion. “You know, I watched this animal special on Discovery channel a few years back. It was on extraordinary mothers of the animal kingdom. The episode that caught my attention most was the alligator. My dad reminds me of an alligator mom. Alligators create nests that can self-incubate and they can even determine the sex of their babies which is just incredible. They’re careful planners; they guard the nests diligently from predators. Then when the eggs hatch, the mother carries them in her mouth to the water and they either swim off or she might care for them up to a year. She only continues to take care of her meticulously planned brood until they can take care of themselves, however short or long that may be. They become what she needs them to be on fundamental level and then she’s not bothered anymore.”

  “So you think your Dad doesn’t need you anymore?” Asked Carlos.

  “No, I don’t need him,” I said. “I’ve swum off. He controlled as much of me as he could and now… I’m gone and can take care of myself.”

  Carlos clicked his tongue at this comment as if to say tsk tsk.

  “Come on, Ana. I have to say I know you are deeper than that. Smarter than that. People don’t survive well without their parents in their lives. Trust me, I’m old enough to have seen enough forty and fifty year olds blame all their woes on their parents whether they were omnipresent or latch-key kids. If his controlling ways are your problem, you are mistaken if you think distance will solve that. He still controls you even now.”

  I chewed on his words. Maybe he was right.

  He continued, “I bet you are still a dancer largely because of him. Like a sort of in-your-face rebellion.”

  Oh. That smarted. Firstly I had never really thought of myself as the vengeful type and secondly, all the humidity of the Mediterranean hadn’t peeled off my label. I didn’t really want Carlos to think of me as a stripper. I wanted to move on from that episode with some of his magic. Bippity boppity boo style. Wave of a wand and we are just together. A million miles away from San Francisco had clearly reduced me from a social mathematician to a Freudian monster, convinced that the magic in my mind could manifest as tangible.

  I didn’t want to spoil the evening so I diverted, “Perhaps you’re right. But back to the animal kingdom. Did you know that mother octopus lay their fifty thousand, or sometimes even up to two hundred thousand eggs in patterns according to their species? Then they will care for the nest for months, pushing warm currents onto them, protecting against predators. Even though the odds of survival and birthing young are huge with that amount of eggs, which might make you think the mother could be more lackadaisical, she won’t leave the nest… the mothers sometimes even eat their own arms to survive and look after each and every egg. When the eggs finally hatch she leaves the lair too weak to defend herself and usually the mothers die shortly after the birth of their young. Incredible.”

  “That is incredible,” Carlos agreed, “A fascinating change of subject.”

  “Au contraire, Monsieur. It is you who changed the subject,” I said.

  “Touché.”

  He grabbed my hand from across the candlelit table when a man appeared at our side. He looked extremely familiar. He had a head full of hair white as snow, tortoise shelled glasses and thin lips that curved gently upward. Carlos gave one of his rich laughs and stood up. The men embraced and patted each other on the shoulders and back the way that gorillas bang their chests.

  “So nice to see you… it’s been too long, my friend,” said Carlos.

  “I agree, I agree… we just make ourselves too busy, don’t we?”

  Carlos turned to me and took me by the hand, gesturing for me to stand.

  “This is Ana,” Carlos said.

  I stood up and smiled as gracefully as possible. I suddenly felt on display as a princess being presented at a ball. The man raised his eyebrows and grabbed my hand then bowed and kissed my hand, “Enchanté.”

  Then, he raised his head and looked at me carefully from behind his round-rimmed glasses.

  “Ana, this is Alain. We go way back,” Carlos said.

  Then I remembered Carlos saying we were going to his friend’s restaurant. Oh my God. It was Alain Dubois. I couldn’t have been more impressed by Beyoncé. As a self-confessed foodie I knew that I now stood in front of a demigod.

  But I played it cool. Ok, not really.

  “Wow… when Carlos said we were going to his friend’s restaurant… suffice to say I didn’t exactly expect, well… this. I’m honestly… just really excited to meet you in person. I’m a pretty big fan though til now I’d only been able to ever go to Mix in Vegas,” I gushed.

  Alain was apparently used to this. He said nothing but bowed his head slightly as if to say thank you. He had a gentle smile that made me feel slightly less silly for having lost my composure.

  Carlos and Alain spoke about another mutual friend of theirs momentarily and then chatted briefly about meeting up in Paris sometime. Carlos turned to me, “Paris presents quite a few opportunities for a stamp in your Dubois passport.”

  He winked and I oozed with love for him. He was bringing me into his world. The plot thickened. Alain gave the commensurate cheek kisses goodbye and he was off. When Carlos and I sat back down at the table I was more amorous than ever.

  Carlos said, “So, hope you don’t leave me for Al. He’s a lot more interesting than I am.”

  “That’s impossible,” I said “Sorry I gushed over him. But I just couldn’t stand there pretending to be aloof. It’s just not my style,” I said.

  “You’re real as real can be, my love. It’s the main thing I love about you. No lying or pretense. It always shocks me how many people try to be something th
ey aren’t.”

  “Well, I can’t give myself that much credit. I choose silence over pretending. Some people consider that the same thing,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve deliberately hid quite a few times in my life. At college when my Dad was still harassing me… I just lived in the library. I didn’t want him to call in front of my roommate. I hid from any and all friendships rather than admit that I felt kind of abused. It was embarrassing but also Carlos, people don’t want friends with a lot of drama. I think that’s why people pretend. It’s gotten even worse with things like Facebook and such. Fakebook is more like it. Picking out the highlights of life and showcasing them as the norm. It’s almost what we are supposed to do. Strutting around like peacocks.”

  Carlos listened intently.

  “But at the end of the day, I’ve stopped judging people for lying or presenting themselves in the best light leaving out the bad… Everyone just wants to be loved. That’s what it is. A desperate cry for love. So when I see someone’s feather fanned out, I keep smiling at them.”

  “You are probably right, Ana. But I can also attest that I have come across quite a few vapid people. Maybe at one point in time they wanted to be loved but then greed or vanity or some other seven sins comes over them and the concept of what true love is just becomes lost somehow.”

  “I would have thought that having everything in the world would make it easier to focus on love? Not more difficult.”

  “Gosh, that couldn’t be further from the truth. More money, more problems,” he said.

  I giggled recalling the hip hop song that immortalized that line, “Look at you… Gangsta Carlito.”

  He got up quickly and somehow seamlessly grabbed me from my chair and pulled me onto his lap. The act turned heads as this wasn’t exactly the kind of establishment where PDA was prevalent. We were face to face and he caressed my cheek like Don Juan and said, “Tu amor vale mas que mil milliones de estrellas.”

  I melted. We kissed, slowly but politely. I pulled back and looked into his eyes.