by Karina Sharp
I clap my hands in excitement. “That would be so awesome of you! Of course he adheres to the policy. It is a requirement. Plus, for Swanks, every day is a day of rest.” I put my arms around McCrary’s neck and toss any care about morning breath aside. “You’re alright, you know that?”
I give him a peck on the lips. I’m so happy that not only am I going to spend the day with McCrary, but he just invited my tortoise to come stay at his house too.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
He winks at me, and I don’t want to break our embrace, but I do, so I can get back sooner rather than later.
“I’m just going to run by my apartment, run a brush through this mane, brush my teeth, grab what I need, including a tortoise, and come back here in say...forty-five minutes?”
“I can go with you, if you want.” McCrary looks at me solemnly.
“No need. I told you; I’m tough." I flex my biceps to help emphasize my point.
He turns away from me and rubs his forehead. "I'm serious, Arielle. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."
"Relax," I say, trying to reassure him. "Brody is out to sea right now and should be gone for a while. I will be fine."
McCrary turns and looks at me dubiously, but he relents. "Fine. But you let me know if there is even a hint of an issue."
I bring my feet together, lift my chest, and playfully salute. "Aye, aye, Captain."
He looks me up and down with mischief in his eyes. "That's more like it. And I'm not a Captain."
"Close enough." I roll my eyes.
"Not even, but whatever floats your boat." He rolls his eyes in return.
I break out into belly laughs. I can't help it. His "float your boat" comment cracks me up, mostly because it’s coming from a sailor.
"You're hilarious!"
"A regular comedian," he says sarcastically. "Would you get going so I can see you in your swanky bathing suit, already?"
He waves me away with his hands.
"Sir, yes sir." I tease as I turn on my heels and retrieve my purse and keys.
*****
McCrary
I return back to my house with armfuls of Shells and Cheese. I think the cashier at the commissary must have thought me insane. How do you say, "No, really, this is for the girl that I spent the night with, but she means so much more to me, and demands Shells and Cheese in bed?" I opted for a professional, confident look of silence instead.
Although I need to study for my case, when Arielle suggested we have a relaxing day, I was more than a little excited about the prospect of not only spending the day with her, but also seeing her in a bikini. I think my imagination probably won't do her justice when I actually see it in person. I haven't had a relaxing day where I just enjoyed myself in quite some time. I never really have a reason to slow down as my life has been dedicated to the Navy, my career, and my clients. There's something so delightfully simple in spending time with her, yet she's very interesting and deep. Since I’m trying to put happiness and trust in place of her fear of being hurt, I want to do anything that helps with it. If that means inviting her tortoise over to spend the day at my house, then I will sign on for it, in a blink, every time. I'm not quite sure what all having a tortoise as a house guest entails, but I am glad to learn.
I am tidying the place a bit and getting some things together for the day when I hear her close her car doors in my driveway. She’s talking, but I can’t understand exactly what she’s saying. Then, I hear a distinct noise of clicking on the pavement outside. There’s a light knock on the door.
“Knock knock!” a sunny voice says as the door opens. “Come on Swanks, he’s nice, I promise.”
Arielle walks through the door, smiling in a chipper way I haven’t seen before, followed by a large, greenish-yellow, jagged dome with four legs and a wrinkly neck.
Arielle stops and gestures. “Swanks, McCrary... McCrary, meet Señor Swankypants- my best buddy.”
She stops and brushes his head lightly.
Señor Swankypants- Er...Swanks first turns his eyes my direction, then slowly, his head. I don’t know much about reptiles or tortoises, but it’s pretty evident that he’s sizing me up. I don’t know if I’m supposed to squat down to speak to him, or walk over to him. I remain casual and talk to him as I continue cleaning.
“Hey Swanks, nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you. Make yourself at home.”
Swanks raises his head, blinks his eyes slowly, and begins to wander about the room.
“Is it weird that I have a large tortoise for a best bud?” Arielle looks at me sheepishly. “I know it sounds crazy, but he really is good to talk to.”
Admittedly, I’ve never met anyone with a reptichild or a large tortoise friend, but it just adds to Arielle’s charm and unique character.
I widen my grin. “Weird? No. It’s almost cliché how unweird it is.”
I give her a sweet kiss on her nose. In response, she rolls her eyes and thumps me on mine.
“Have you always been such a nerd?”
I put my hands on her waist and shrug. “Pretty much.”
I pull her to me and gently kiss her mouth. I am reminded how, even though she was only gone for an hour or so, I felt as though something I needed was missing during that time.
I step back to look into her clean, natural face, which I think is just as beautiful, if not more, than when she is made up. Her olive skin highlights her green eyes, whose corners I see wrinkle as she adds her glowing smile to her countenance.
“You’re lucky you have such a hot body, sexy uniform, and adorable face to mask that inner nerd.”
“Lucky nerd, indeed.”
Our mouths meet again and I make the executive decision that Day of Rest with Arielle needs to be added to my regular routine.
***
We take the top off of my Jeep and drive around the island of Oahu to take in all of the lush colors and varying landscapes. We talk about the contrast between the steep rises of the topography that separate the leeward and windward sides of the island. I teach her the terms makai, which in Hawaiian represents toward the ocean, and mauka which refers to toward the mountains.
“Do you surf?” she asks me as we drive on the north shore.
“No. I’ve wanted to try it, but haven’t gotten around to it,” I say with a shrug.
“I haven’t either,” she says, grabbing my hand with hers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her looking at the side of my face, smiling genuinely. “I should add that to my ‘List of Things I Want to Experience.’”
“Maybe one Sunday,” I say with a smile, still looking toward the road.
“Maybe.”
“What beach would you like to visit?” I ask as we round the top of the island by Kahuku, toward Laie.
Arielle answers quickly. “Take me to your favorite one.”
I’ve driven this island many times, taking in the scenery and comparing the shore lines. There is not a bad beach on Oahu. Kailua Beach is one of my favorites, when it is not crowded, but I opt for a piece of shore that is more untouched and slightly more private.
I stop around Kaaawa. In this area of the island, there are mostly houses and bungalows that line the highway along the shore, and they are mostly rental cottages and homes of locals. The clear blue water is much closer to the highway here and is contrasted with the expansive greenery of the mountains and plant life.
We take our belongings out of the Jeep and walk onto the soft, white sand. This sand isn’t as rocky as the sand in Waikiki, and it’s brighter than the sand in other parts of the island. The water here rolls in waves, but they are calmer than on the north shore.
We are the only ones here at the moment, which is perfect, and what I was hoping for. Arielle kicks off her flip flops almost as soon as they touch the sand, drops her dress- revealing her swimsuit -and she immediately skips to the water, placing her feet in the receding tide.
“This is heavenly
!”
She holds her arms out to her sides with her palms up and looks up to the sky, taking in a deep breath.
My chest begins to tighten, and I know it’s a result of seeing her happy and full of joy. I halt in my steps to study the experience and take it all in. Her skin glistens in the sun and she looks like a goddess in her deep purple bikini, which looks perfect against her skin. I move my eyes up her body from her feet, to her calves, to her thighs, hips, and perfectly formed waist. She is very nearly a perfect hourglass in her hips, waist, and chest. Her breasts are hugged tightly and supported by two small strings and two pieces of triangle shaped material. I think about what little fabric separates me from seeing and feeling them, and then think about how easily it could be removed. My eyes move up her chest to her neck, which is so kissable at this moment. She lowers her chin so I can see her face and smiles that now familiar smile as her chestnut hair blows in the wind. I wonder why she chose to bestow her beauty and trust on me, but I don’t have to understand why. She’s chosen to spend the day with me, and I get to have her all to myself.
“Quit being so pokey, and come join me! It feels so flipping wonderful!”
She kicks the water toward me, despite my being yards away and it not coming anywhere near me.
Her playfulness is infectious. I drop our things in the sand, without worrying where they land, take off my shirt, and slip out of my flip flops as I run toward her. I surprise her and pick her up by her legs, bending her over my right shoulder. Arielle squeals in delight and laughter, and I can’t help but laugh as well.
We spend the day playing in the water, splashing each other, and kissing in the ocean. We hold hands as we walk along the shore, stopping occasionally to look at things like the tiny island off of the shore called Chinaman’s Hat.
Throughout the day, we talk with ease about our lives growing up, comparing stories of her “huge and loud, Mexican family” to mine of my two brothers and moving all over the world. She tells me about going to college and how she could have gone to any number of universities, but chose to stay close to home. She also talks of her now buried aspirations to be a doctor. I learn so much about her life’s journey, and each new fact she tells me is like adding a piece to a puzzle, only far more satisfying. I tell her about my college experience and some of the less responsible things I’ve done in my life. She tells me that she likes hearing my stories because with each story, she says it’s as though she’s known me all along.
***
When we decide that we are hungry, we pack up and head back to my house. She showers as I check on Swanks and begin making her requested meal.
While she is in the shower, I imagine being in it with her. I picture her tan lines on her newly bronzed skin as I wash her back. I fantasize about her teasing me about my very white ass as she pinches my cheeks, and I reciprocate, because it would be the polite thing to do. I picture how her body would respond to me.
The fact that I currently know she desires me, and I alone turn her on, makes me want her more than ever, but I don’t want to push her into something she’s not ready for or that she might regret. For now, I choose to respond to that lust by kissing her with a great deal of emotion and not dare bathe with her.
From the other room, I hear her pick up my shampoo bottle and use it as a microphone as she sings “Singin’ in the Rain” in her campy and irresistible way.
She comes into the kitchen as I am draining pasta shells in the sink.
“You actually made Shells and Cheese?” Her eyes are wide with excitement, and she’s looking over my shoulder in anticipation.
“You said it was a requirement of Rest Day,” I tell her.
She giggles her wonderfully girly and loveable giggle. “Yes, but I didn’t think you would actually listen to me and go out and acquire some.”
I turn to face her. “I listen to everything you say.”
I lace the fingers of both her hands in mine and place them by our sides. “And if Velveeta Shells and Cheese is what floats your boat, then Shells and Cheese it is.”
I kiss her on the forehead. “I just have one thing…”
“What’s that?” She raises an eyebrow.
“I would prefer to eat them here at the bar as opposed to in the bed. I’m not exactly the cleanest eater, and I don’t want to have to dry clean my comforter every week due to liquefied, processed cheese stains. The dry cleaners might start to talk and all.”
She rolls her eyes with a smirk at me. “I didn’t realize there’s a secret network of dry cleaners who compare stains and eating habits of their regular customers.” She exhales out of her nose, laughing, and raises the other side of her mouth into a smile. “But, fair enough. We can eat here.”
Arielle lets out a playful sigh as she walks over to the bar.
“Something you want to say, dear?” I emphasize the “dear.”
“No…,” she says as she passively traces circles with her index finger on the countertop.
She looks up at me, grinning from ear to ear. “I just knew you couldn’t be perfect. I was waiting for a flaw to come to light.”
We both break out into laughter and sit down to eat our gourmet pasta dinner. She’s actually quite lucky she didn’t ask for anything too difficult to make, because I would’ve let her down in that department. My limbs warm throughout, and I cannot deny that I am completely smitten with this woman.
Chapter 16
Arielle
McCrary and I begin to spend a great deal of time together. Not only do I see him at the gym every day, we text back and forth throughout the day, which are usually messages of silly pickup lines, bad jokes, or dirty thoughts. We also spend some evenings together, which are my favorite, but not every evening because he works late or has prior commitments. He says that he will just leave work or break his commitments, but I always insist that he does not use me as an excuse to fall behind in work or push his friends away. I sometimes wonder if he has anyone to confide in or if anyone knows about all of the time he spends with a married woman. If they do know, I wonder if they tell anyone. I imagine McCrary to be more rational than that. Plus, if he can be trusted to keep government secrets, surely he can be trusted to keep his personal life a secret. I still have a small worry that hangs out in my mind quite often.
Swanks and I have stayed the last few weekends at his house. On Fridays, I usually go home, take a nap, pack up my things and Swanks, and we head over to McCrary’s in the evening. On Saturdays, we go on a long run or workout together, then go to a movie or to hear the orchestra, and go back to his place. It’s hard to sleep and rest when he’s around me because I find his presence so invigorating. I just want to stay up all night, every night, talking and kissing, but eventually my circadian rhythm kicks in, and I fall asleep. Or maybe it’s because I feel so peaceful in McCrary’s arms. Who’s to say, really? We spend Sundays outside enjoying Hawaii. We go hiking, find waterfalls, and watch the honu, or sea turtles, swim in the ocean.
This weekend is no different. Swanks and I spent our Friday night here, and we will spend tonight here as well so that we can have our weekly Day of Rest tomorrow. McCrary and I plan to just jog around Ford Island today, instead of going on a trail or a longer run. I think he’s had a long week, plus I wouldn’t mind seeing the buildings more closely.
We step outside, and there’s a small patch of rainclouds in the distance.
“It looks like it might rain,” McCrary says to me.
“I don’t mind. I love running in the rain. Really, I love playing and being in the rain, in general,” I say as I double check the laces on my tennis shoes.
I look up from my shoes to McCrary. “You scared you might melt?”
“Not at all. I was just giving you forewarning in case you care about your hair or shoes or something.” He smiles. “Plus, I thought you might be worried about melting since you are a little wicked.”
He takes of running and taps me on the shoulder. “Tag! You’re it!”
I
take off running after him. We both know there’s no way I will catch him unless he lets me. He is far faster than I am. If he doesn’t feel like keeping a slower pace with me, he usually runs ahead and then comes back to meet me for a little bit.
I sprint toward him, and I know he’s smiling despite my being directly behind him. His ears lift when he smiles, which gives him away every time.
“If and when I ever catch up with you, you’re going to pay! I hate tag!” I shout as I’m breathing deeply and my heart beats heavily in my chest.
He slows down enough for me to get within arm’s reach of him and then bolts away.
“Arrrrgghh!”
I keep running anyway. Since I’ve started running with him, I have gotten faster, and my pace has improved. I think this is McCrary’s way to make speed work and pick-ups much more fun, because I hate them any other time.
As predicted, the clouds begin to shower down. The water is warm and refreshing, which re-energizes me. My increased energy reminds me exactly what it is I love about running in the rain. McCrary slows his pace, and I catch up with him.
“I’m not going to have to pick up an Arielle puddle of goo and carry it back to my house, am I?”
I continue looking ahead and between ragged breaths, I manage to say, “Ha ha. You are so funny. Plus, if I did melt in the rain, I would be more like silly putty, I think.”
He laughs and says, “I could’ve sworn you’d want to be some brightly colored slime or something.”
His question gives me an idea.
“I have a game for us to play when we get back.”
I see his eyes flash mischievously.
“Not that kind of game. Although...it could be adapted.”
Feigning disappointment, he says, “Aw, man…”
“We are going to write down questions to ask one another, put them in a hat, and draw them at random. The questions can be as simple as ‘What’s your favorite color?’ or a little more deep like ‘Do you believe in God?’ As you go throughout your day and think of things you either want to ask me, or you want me to ask you, write them down, and we will put them in the hat.”
