My Virtual Lover

by Madelaine Grant

  I did fall back to sleep. When I woke, the sun had risen on a glorious day. Now I could appreciate the magnificent panorama before me — clear blue waters, tiny, pastel-colored houses hugging the shore, low lying purple hills in the distance and white sails dotting the harbor.

  True to his word, Peter photographed me in the water, on the chaise lounge and silhouetted against the rock wall surrounding our verandah.

  We had our breakfast overlooking this beautiful scene before taking off to search for the perfect beach.

  The next few days, we explored the golden sandy beaches of Panormos and Agios with their low dunes and crystalline waters. We ate our meals at small tavernas where the owners, usually a husband and wife, cooked and served. Often we were invited into the kitchen to choose our entrees. One evening we dined on Moussaka, a baked meat custard with layers of potatoes, onions and ground meat with a lovely custard sauce. Another time I tried a lamb stew with lemon roasted potatoes. Greek cooking uses lots of lemon and oregano. For dessert, their baklava was heavenly — thin sheets of phyllo alternated with ground nuts and honey. Yummy.

  I took many photos of the old, white washed windmills, a symbol of Mykonos, and of the charming towns and small, blue domed churches.

  One morning Peter announced we’d be taking a taxi-boat over to Delos, a small deserted island nearby.

  The trip by boat was a bit choppy. “Concentrate on the horizon,” Peter advised.

  This worked and I didn’t get seasick.

  “Delos was one of the most important spiritual centers of Greece,” he informed me as we started our tour. “In fact, according to mythology, it was the birthplace of Artemis, the goddess of hunting, and Apollo.”

  “So this is where you came from,” I teased.

  We had our own private tour guide who took us through the many temples, theaters and houses of that long ago civilization. I couldn’t get over the beauty of the mosaic floors in many of the houses.

  “They’re in such good condition and what great craftsmanship.” Archeology had always fascinated me and I enjoyed our visit to the archeological museum on the island.

  Much too soon, we were back at the airport for our return flight. This time I didn’t allow any sadness to mar the trip. After all, we were embarking on another adventure in just a few days.

  CHAPTER 14

  Tony phoned me at the gallery on Thursday afternoon, the day before I was to leave on my next holiday.

  “Hi, sweetheart. Did you get my package yet?”

  For some reason, the sound of his voice gave me the jitters. “N-no, it hasn’t arrived.”

  “It should get there soon, hopefully before I do.”

  He was coming back? When? The palms of my hands grew sweaty as I contemplated his imminent arrival. “You’re coming home?” I asked cautiously.

  He chuckled. “Didn’t you think I would? My plane gets in Tuesday night. I expect you can pick me up, as usual. I’ll fax the details to you.”

  Tuesday night. He’d return Tuesday night. My mind worked feverishly to take in this unexpected news. At least his return wouldn’t interrupt my weekend holiday with Peter. That was a relief.

  I should have distrusted the timing of his return — just one day after we got back — but I didn’t even think of it. I was too busy with trying to figure out how I would handle the two men in my life.

  I was pretty quiet the rest of the afternoon. Trish picked up on my preoccupied state.

  “What’s up, Val? You’ve been a veritable Sphinx the last few hours.”

  I decided to confide in her; she’d find out soon enough, anyway. “Tony’s coming back Tuesday night and I’m not sure how I’m going to cope.”

  She nodded sagely. “The plot thickens.” Then she added, “I’m sure all will work out. Maybe Tony and Peter will get along well.”

  Her words surprised me. I couldn’t conceive of any way that Tony would accept me running about the world with another man — even if he was a robot. Besides, I’d long since ceased thinking of Peter as a robot. To me, he was simply Peter, a warm, caring man whom I adored.

  In retrospect, I can see why Trish was so unconcerned; she’d been in on the plot from the beginning.

  At the time, I was very troubled about my conflicted feelings. On the one hand, I was angry with Tony for abandoning me for so long. I blamed him for my infidelity. Then I started blaming myself for being weak and allowing Peter to worm his way into my heart and my bed.

  How was I possibly going to explain my behavior to Tony on Tuesday night? Should I continue to hide my involvement with Peter? Could I hide our relationship?

  These questions whirled around in my head all afternoon. By the time I arrived home, I had a monstrous headache.

  A large package waited outside my door. It symbolized Tony’s coming arrival and my heart thudded. Gingerly, I carried it inside and decided not to open it until my head stopped pounding. I lay down with a cold cloth on my face, trying to calm my overheated nerves.

  I was just beginning to doze when the phone rang, jarring me into wakefulness. “Hullo?”

  “Hi, Val. Are you all right? Your voice sounds funny.”

  It was Peter — and for once I was not in the mood to talk to him. “I’ve a terrible headache, so if you don’t mind, I’m not going to talk long. I want to sleep awhile.”

  There was a pause and, for a moment, I thought he’d hung up on me. “Peter, are you still there?”

  “I’m here, Val. Just wondering if there was anything I could do to help. Shall I come down and stay the night? I could give you a massage — that might relieve your headache.”

  No. No way did I want to see Peter. I’d end up telling him about Tony’s return, revealing my acute state of anxiety. “I’d rather be alone, if you don’t mind. All I need is some sleep. I’ll be fine in the morning. Good night, Peter.” I held my breath, hoping he’d take the hint.

  “As you wish, Val. Take care of yourself. I’ll pick you up, as usual, tomorrow night.”

  I let out a relieved breath. At least he hadn’t argued with me; I couldn’t have handled that. But trying to get back to sleep was impossible. Fully awake, I ambled out to see Tony’s package sitting on my dining room table. What could he have sent?

  I ripped open the box and removed scads of packing material. Several layers of tissue paper were wrapped around a bulky shape. I pulled them off to find a velvety-looking kangaroo with a baby ‘roo peeking out from its stomach.

  For a moment, I was speechless, staring at the creatures, mother and baby. I picked them up and held the cuddly animals close to my heart while tears pricked at my eyelids.

  How sweet of Tony to send me these adorable stuffed animals. How thoughtful of him to remember how much I loved the teddy bears that sat on the chest in my bedroom. I sat down on a nearby chair and hugged the ‘roos, burying my head in their soft brown fur.

  A host of childhood memories flooded my mind. I saw myself as a child of nine holding onto my favorite teddy bear as I received news of my beloved grandmother’s death. Then there was the time I was about eleven and was in the hospital. My mother brought me a new teddy bear to keep me company. The comfort those bears gave me was immeasurable.

  “Tony,” I whispered out loud, “how did you know I needed this?” I pressed my face into the kangaroo’s soft body and cried for several minutes, relieving my stored up distress.

  A strange thought hit me. Would a robot feel the same way about a stuffed animal? I didn’t think I could ask Peter that question.

  That night I went to sleep with the ‘roos snuggled right beside me.

  * * * *

  We took off Friday night and, as Peter’s silver jet whirled us into the ‘wild blue yonder’, I couldn’t shake the consciousness of Tony’s impending arrival. If Peter noticed my abstracted mood, he didn’t comment on it.

  “Aren’t you curious about our destination?” he finally inquired.

  “When you’re ready, you’ll tell me, although I have an i
dea we’re headed south.”

  “You’re right, Val. We are flying in a southerly direction. Want to take a guess? I’ll give you a hint; it’s not an island. Since we’ve already explored two marvelous ones, Kauau’i and Mykonos, I wanted to show you something different.”

  “Something different … well let’s see … perhaps Mexico or one of the Central American countries.”

  He nodded. “Good guess. You’re almost there. Try a little further south.”

  I turned to him in surprise. “Then it has to be one of the South American countries, a country with mountains. That’s why you had me bring hiking boots and a warm jacket."

  He laughed. “That did give you a clue. Yes, we’re headed to a country with a wide range of landscapes — vast deserts, mountain lakes and volcanoes, glacier fields — you name it, this country has it.”

  “I have to be honest, Peter. South America is not one of the continents I’m familiar with. Give me another hint.”

  Peter thought a moment. “All right, this should do it. One of the greatest South American poets comes from this country.” He turned toward me expectantly.

  One of the greatest poets … I racked my brain. Then it came to me. “Pablo Neruda — so it must be Chile. I loved his long poem, “The Heights of Macchu Picchu”. It’s one of my favorites.”

  Of course, Peter recited most of this long poem to me.

  Chile. I hadn’t expected our adventures would take us there. But I was game for anything.

  We landed at a tiny airport outside of Santiago, Chile’s capital. A driver with a sturdy vehicle awaited us, as usual.

  “We’ll be staying at Portillo, a ski resort just north of the city,” Peter said as we sped on our way.

  “Is it still skiing season?” I asked.

  “Not exactly, but the views are spectacular.”

  He was so right. Even at night I could glean an idea of the terrain — rugged mountain trails seemed to lead straight up to the star-studded skies.

  Our accommodations were simple but luxurious, a chalet type ski lodge with its own sunken hot tub on the wide, outside deck. The clear night air was surprisingly cool.

  “No wonder you told me to take a warm jacket. We must be pretty high up.”

  “How about ten thousand feet above sea level? It may take a day to get used to the thinner air. We’ll go slow tomorrow.”

  The next morning when I ambled out to our deck, I gasped at the view — mountains surrounded us on three sides. In front of me was a magnificent lake, the Laguna del Inca, I later found out. It is of unknown depth and freezes over in winter.

  “Oh, Peter, this is so incredible,” I exclaimed as he joined me.

  He smiled at my enthusiasm. “I thought you’d enjoy this.”

  After a hearty breakfast, we took a drive to see Pablo Neruda’s home at Isla Nigra. We passed several seaside resorts on the Pacific and took the time to stroll along the beach. The waves roaring into shore were formidable — not exactly the balmiest waters to swim in. Neruda’s home overlooked a particularly rough stretch of beach where the waves crashed against humped rocks rising suddenly out of the white sand.

  The seafood in Chile was astounding. We dined on machas — razor clams — lightly baked with Parmesan cheese, shrimp, oysters, mussels, octopous and the famous king crab. Peter recommended we try a Chilean favorite, caldillo de congrio.

  “How do you like it?” he asked.

  “Delicious,” I said, and it was.

  He hadn’t told me what was in the soup, which was just as well. “All right, what’s in it?”

  “Well, onions and potato and conger.”

  “Conger?” That didn’t sound familiar.

  “It’s an eel, Val,” he grinned, watching my expression.

  Oh, well, I’d had stranger things to eat … and it was good.

  The following day I needed my heavy jacket, sun block and a wide-brimmed hat. We trekked on horseback to explore the many nooks and crannies of the high Andes. Peter hired a guide as the trails go up very steep, huge hills topped by barren rock. We passed lakes where blocks of snow floated. The atmosphere was so dry and clear it seemed you could see to the end of the world if the snow capped peaks were not blocking your vision. There was something about the majestic silence that high up that was humbling.

  We were making our descent and, once back at our lodge, we’d only have one more night together. I could see the sadness in Peter’s expression. “We still have tomorrow,” I consoled him. Did he have a premonition this was our last trip together?

  That night we soaked in the hot tub and gazed at the twinkling stars. “This is so beautiful, so peaceful,” I murmured. “I can’t thank you enough for these very special holidays, Peter.”

  He bent to kiss me, smoothing my hair back from my face. “These have been some of the happiest times of my life, Val.”

  And I knew he meant it.

  Peter drove me home and, instead of kissing me goodbye, as usual, he asked the question I’d hoped not to hear.

  “Val, would you like my company tonight?”

  For a moment I froze. This was the last thing I wanted. Tony was due back the next evening. I needed time alone to make the transition from one lover to the next. How could I handle this without hurting Peter’s feelings?

  I took a deep breath. “Can I take you up on your offer another time?”

  He gave a rueful grin. “So, you’re tired of me already.”

  “No, Peter,” I started to protest.

  He stopped me with a kiss. “It’s okay, Val. I know you have things on your mind. I’ve sensed it all weekend. Do you want to talk about it?”

  His voice was gentle and, for a brief moment, I almost considered confiding in him. “You are perceptive, Peter. Let me sleep on it; perhaps next time we get together.”

  “Till Friday, then,” he said, and left.

  Next Friday? Who knew what would happen by next Friday? Unless Tony was going out of town for the weekend, I didn’t see how Peter and I would be taking another holiday.

  Things were becoming more and more complicated. I wondered how others handled multiple relationships at the same time. Was it better to be honest with each of them? Earlier, Peter had assured me our affair would not affect my relationship with Tony. But how could he know this?

  The more I thought about everything, the more muddled my head became. Finally, I put the entire matter out of my mind. Whatever happened, happened.

  Tuesday night I drove to the airport, still with no clear plan. I didn’t know whether to confess my affair with Peter or keep mum. By the time Tony’s plane touched down, I was one nervous wreck.

  Tony strode toward me with a big smile. “Hello, love. So good to see you.” He gave me a bear hug and a long kiss. Then he set me back a moment with an appraising glance. “Don’t you look good — all tanned and healthy. Well, did you get my package yet? I should have brought it with me.”

  “Oh, Tony, they’re adorable. I love the ‘roos. Thank you so much.” I gave him a quick kiss.

  “I’m glad you like them, love. I remembered your fondness for teddy bears.”

  He took my hand and we headed to the parking area. From the corner of my eye, I stole a look at his rugged profile and thick, dark hair. Different than Peter and somehow more real. Suddenly I realized I could not go on deceiving him — I would have to tell him about Peter and take my chances.

  He could leave me. At the possibility of losing him, a stab of pain shot through my heart. How would I manage without him? For the first time, I woke up to the fact that I loved this guy — truly loved him. Losing him would be a major catastrophe.

  Why had I allowed myself to wander into another man’s bed? Why couldn’t I have been more patient? My guilt was overwhelming.

  Meanwhile, Tony talked to me about his trip and all the people he’d met. “Val, dear, I promise you next time I have to be in Australia, you’ll come with me. There are so many places I want to show you.”

  At
his words, my guilt only increased. If he knew how I’d been occupying myself… I shuddered, thinking about his reaction. These were not pleasant moments.

  Once in the van, Tony lowered his seat and stretched out. “I’ll take a quick nap — then I’ll be in shape for the rest of the night.” He flashed me an intimate smile.

  “Did you plan to stay over?”

  “Absolutely, love. After all, it’s been a long time … too long.” He reached out to squeeze my thigh. “Can’t wait to hold you in my arms again. I’ve missed you.”

  Another stab of pain hit me. How was I going to get through the rest of this night?

  CHAPTER 15

  “I see the ‘roos made a hit with you.” Tony stood at my bedroom door surveying the furry animals on my pillow. “The little one is called a ‘joey’, by the way.”

  “I love those guys — you couldn’t have sent a better gift.” And I meant it. Walking over to the bed, I took the two ‘roos in my arms. It was a comfort to hold them.

  “What’s the matter, Val? You seem preoccupied. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  I looked up at him and my eyes filled with tears. “Of course I’m happy to see you. It’s just that … “ I hesitated, trying to think of something. “You’ve been away so long and it’s hard to adjust to your being back.”

  He walked over and drew me into his arms, ‘roos and all. “I understand. Let’s spend tonight getting reacquainted. How about a shower and then a midnight snack? Dinner was ages ago.”

  Under the shower’s hot spray, we soaped each other. Tony’s hands caressed me as he explored all my secret places.

  “This is what I missed most,” he said huskily. “I’ve dreamed about touching you and making love to you.”

  I hadn’t dreamt about making love to Tony — I’d been so busy with Peter, I hadn’t given much thought to anything else. At that moment, my guilt was monumental.

  We wrapped ourselves in terry robes and headed for the kitchen. “What are you in the mood for?” I inquired, searching the almost empty shelves of my refrigerator. I’d been away and hadn’t caught up with food shopping.