“My friend Mona owns this place. She bought it from a British man two years ago.”
We walked into the covered part of the restaurant and I sat as Sophie went to fetch her friend Mona. A couple of young women entered the restaurant and walked toward me. One of them eyed me suspiciously. She was about my age, though she looked quite fabulous in a spaghetti strap dress that went halfway down her thighs and jeans and flip-flops. How do girls like her do this? If I wore something like that I’d look like Dumbo the elephant.
“This table is reserved,” she said in a British accent.
It was? Then Sophie came back to save the day.
“Oh, Shauna, this is Drew’s friend Amelia.” Sophie hugged both women and kissed them French style, on both cheeks.
The two women, both tall and regal, regarded me politely and held out their hands.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” the other one, Nicole, said. She spoke with a Dominican accent.
Apparently, this was their weekly girlfriend get-together, and I was intruding. But they were nice. They were all married, happily so it seemed. They talked about their kids. A lot. I thought they were hilarious. If I ever have kids, I told myself, I’d never talk about them around people who didn’t have kids. It was so hard for me to care. I had to laugh when they laughed, oooh when they ooohed, and aah when they aaaahed. Then the conversation switched to husbands. Something else I didn’t have.
“Oh, he had the nerve to ask me what I was cooking,” Nicole was saying of her husband. “It’s not even lunchtime yet and the man wants to know what I’m making for supper.”
It was all harmless, softball married-girl complaints. They all looked so content in their wedded state. Neither Sophie nor Shauna worked and Nicole was a part-time pediatric nurse at the Princess Margaret Hospital. I recognized the name of the hospital because it was where Drew had been born—he’d taken me there.
“So, Amelia, are you liking it here? Is the heat too much for you?” Shauna asked. I liked her. She was a bit haughty, but then how could anyone speak with a British accent and not come off that way?
“Not at all, I’m having a great time. I’ve only started going out recently. I plan to do a little exploring every day this week.” Once again my mouth was making the plans as my brain idled by helplessly.
“That sounds good. If you need company, just call,” Sophie said.
Then a woman, ample like myself, came out of the back with a huge tray.
“Okay, ladies. This is what I made for us today.”
They all exclaimed at the plates of crab and vegetables. It was a visual and culinary feast.
“I’m Mona,” she said, putting a plate, overflowing with stuffed crab, vegetables steamed in a spicy sauce, and brown rice, in front of me. God, it smelled so good!
“Mona owns this place,” Sophie said as Mona, still wearing her cook’s apron, joined us. “And she owns a spa out in the country and she’s thinking of building a hotel, too.” They all laughed.
“She’s the overachiever of our group,” Shauna said.
Mona waved her hand. “I just like to work. So, you’re from Boston?”
I nodded as I dug into the food, trying to remind myself not to eat too much.
“I went to school in Boston,” she said.
Mona explained she’d gotten her MBA from Harvard fifteen years ago and had worked as an investment banker in New York for ten years before moving back to Dominica. I was surprised by this because of all the women around me she seemed the most Dominican. There was no trace of New York or Boston in her accent. Her mannerisms were all very pronounced and overly feminine like most Dominican women. I asked her about this in as polite a manner as I could manage.
“I couldn’t tell that you’d lived in the States,” I said.
She laughed. “Oh, I’m a chameleon, girl,” she said. “It’s good for business if I’m one of the people here. Dominicans hate it when people come back from abroad and try to put on airs as if living overseas is a big deal or something. The worst thing you could do down here is act too big for your britches.”
Shauna arched her brows playfully. “Yeah, she’s the veritable salt of the earth, our Oprah here.”
Mona waved her hand again dismissively at Shauna. “And she’s Ms. Prissy.”
I was having a great time with these women, but two hours and several glasses of wine (for them, not me) later it was over.
“You should come again next week,” Shauna said.
“Why wait?” Mona said. “If you ever run out of things to do, come and hang out with me. I’m always either here or at my spa out in the country.”
I felt good as I got back in the Jeep. Full and finally welcome. Now I had to find a way to burn off this extravagant lunch. So instead of heading straight home, I walked around the capital some more. It was baking hot and my feet were dusty and parched, but I kept going even as sweat poured down my back.
I found an old cathedral and sat in the pews for fifteen minutes just to catch my breath and let its dark, holy aura wash over me. I took a few pictures of the beautiful flower garden that ringed it. There was a boys’ high school across the narrow street and I walked into the courtyard. A few young boys were playing basketball and they looked me over curiously, then went back to their game.
I kept on walking, found a cemetery, and took some pictures of old, ornate gravestones, some almost totally covered by weeds, some dating to the early eighteenth century. I noticed that several of the names on these stones were French. St. Pierre. Beaulieu. Toussaint. Gosh, I was so hot and thirsty! Then I saw what looked like some type of recreational or country club. It wasn’t huge but there were a couple of tennis courts and a clubhouse attached. Water!
I followed the main road through the cemetery and out through the courtyard of another building that looked like another school, but later I’d find out that it was the old barracks for the scraggly Dominican Defense Force.
By the time I entered the club, sweat was dripping from the sides of my head. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail. It was so hot!
There was no one in front so I walked into the foyer, which was air-conditioned and so comparatively plush that I just wanted to sit in one of those wicker chairs and nap for a good ten minutes. Before I could venture farther in, a black man hurried out to me, a look of worry on his face.
“What you doin’ in here?” he demanded. I was taken aback. “Get out of here!” he roared.
“I just…I just wanted some water,” I stammered, backing away.
Once he heard my accent his demeanor changed. “You’re American? Tourist?”
I nodded, shocked by the sudden change in his behavior.
“Oh,” he smiled widely. “Follow me.”
He guided me into a large dining room where a few older men sat around a table, all white hair, large bellies, and pompous countenances, smoking cigars and drinking seriously. Movers and shakers? He sat me down at a table and then brought me a tall glass of water and asked if I wanted anything else. I was still very tired and so I decided to rest for a bit. I ordered a virgin piña colada.
Massive bay windows overlooked the tennis courts. A couple of guys played tennis while a few women watched. They looked like younger versions of the men at the table. Hmmmm, I thought. The Dominican ruling class. Wow. My American accent had gotten me into this place, but what if I’d been just a regular person? Would I have died of thirst out there? Maybe this place wasn’t all paradise then.
Chapter 25
Drew’s truck was parked outside as I pulled into the driveway. It was only four-thirty—normally he wouldn’t be home till about seven.
“Hey, babe!” I could smell something delicious; he was cooking. I loved that guy! He came out of the kitchen.
“I was worried about you. I called several times.”
That technically was my fault for being home all day long every day since I’d come here. He had come to expect it. But still…Didn’t I have a right to come and go as I p
leased? Didn’t he tell me that I should go out and explore?
“I was out doing a little exploring.” He glanced at the bag in my hand. “And shopping.”
“I know. I called Mom, and she said you’d had lunch with Sophie and her friends.” He was smiling, but there was a look on his face that said that he wasn’t all the way pleased.
“Yeah, I ran into her at the waterfront….”
“Next time can you call me and let me know when you’re going out?”
“I didn’t plan to be out for long.”
“Just call me and let me know so I don’t have to worry that you’re lost or something.”
“I was bored.” I followed him into the kitchen.
“That’s why I’ve been asking you to come down to the site.”
Why would I want to hang out at a construction site all day?
“Fine. I’ll let you know when I’m going out next time.”
Tension simmered as we ate and then burbled as we stood at the kitchen sink doing dishes together. This was supposed to be our special place.
“So, you had a good time with Sophie and her friends?”
“Yeah, they’re a lot of fun. It felt good to interact with other people.”
“What? Interacting with me is not enough?”
I laughed to ease the tension but thought, what a strange question. He didn’t even seem to be kidding.
“Of course, it’s enough. They come in a very distant second to you.”
“So what did you all talk about?”
“Just girl stuff.”
“Like what?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “They didn’t tell me all about your sordid past if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried. Just curious.”
“Yeah, right. We were just getting to know one another. They talked about their husbands and kids and I listened and ate.”
Then I told him about my strange encounter at the tennis club and the cemetery and the cathedral. “That guy at the tennis club was so mean.”
“He’s just doing his job.”
“By being nasty to strangers?”
“It costs a lot of money to join that club; the members don’t want people just walking in off the street.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “What happened to you? I thought you were Mr. Populist.”
“It’s not that simple. Rich people’s money keep this country functioning so that the poor don’t starve to death. If that means giving them their own club, then so be it. Besides, you should have told that guy who you were up front and you wouldn’t have had any trouble.”
“Whatever, Drew. I don’t see why a thirsty person can’t walk into a place and get a drink of water.”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Right. I’m a spoiled American.”
“Here we go,” he laughed. “No fighting today.”
“Fine. Can we go to the waterfront tonight?” I wanted to see the full moon shimmering off the water up close. But I also wanted to change the subject. It bothered me the way he always laughed at any political argument I tried to make. Like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t know what I was talking about.
When night fell we rolled into the capital. I was anxious to see what it was like at night when the cruise ship was in town. From what Sophie told me that was when the capital truly came alive. And it was jumping—in its own reserved way. Drew and I watched tourists stagger out of bars holding bottles of rum in shaky hands. They roamed the streets, which were largely devoid of any local people, baying and carrying on as if it were Mardi Gras. The moon was huge in the black sky and it shone daylight bright on Roseau, putting the stars out of business temporarily. Music and laughter filled stray corners.
“European men sure love them some Caribbean women,” I said as a ruddy-faced man in a garish Hawaiian shirt clutched a nubile Dominican woman outside a bar.
“It’s just an adventure for them,” Drew said critically.
“The men or the women?”
“Probably both.”
“Did you ever do the nightclub scene down here?”
“Only if it was a business opportunity…”
“You’re so serious, Drew.”
“Ouch!”
“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I just mean that you’re so focused on your goals; it’s like you don’t think about anything else.”
“I think about you. Oh, wait. You’re just another goal of mine.”
“Stop it.”
“My mother thinks you’re serious.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, so does my sister. That means we’re compatible.”
“Uh-huh.” Then I remembered his television interview. “So, you’re going Bill Clinton on me? I’m just a good friend of yours who’s staying in your home for the summer?” I was teasing him. I didn’t mind that he had to lie to protect his and my name.
“Hey, I could tell them you’re giving me some good, sweaty lovin’ every night if that’s what you want.”
“No, thanks. But thanks for playing.”
Later, I lay awake, just contemplating. It had been a good day. I’d gone out, done and seen some things. But I had questions. How was word of my whereabouts, feelings, aspirations, and seriousness going around so quickly, from Sophie to Vanessa to him? And how should I deal with all of this gossip and attention from Dominicans. Was I overthinking this? My imagination began to run wild as I fell asleep. That night I dreamed that I was Antoinette Cosway again. Locked up in some attic of some old plantation house and going crazy.
I was up early the next day to watch the sun rise from the back porch. Drew had gone out for his jog and I savored the time alone with just the laptop. I reread the e-mail from Whitney. She said I sounded lonely. She was right, a little bit. I missed her. I missed James and Kelly, who sent me pictures of houses they were looking at. But I was okay. I was content. I certainly wasn’t living it up like she was, shopping on the Via Veneto and shuttling all over Italy from Termini.
I wrote her back, determined to sound more upbeat but not quite being able to swing it:
Sometimes everything inside of me says stay here. I could become Mrs. Drew, teach school, hang out with Sophie and her girlfriends. Build a life parallel to Drew’s so I wouldn’t be so bored half the time. But other times I miss home so much I feel like running to the airport and taking the first plane out. I miss the South Shore Mall, Harvard Square, gourmet chocolate, the shoe department at Nordstrom. And I miss my Beetle, girl. I want to be with Drew but I don’t know if I could be happy without all of the above. Is love enough to rough it down here? I don’t know.
I hit send and watched the yellow sun rouse itself. Maybe. Just Maybe.
“So what’s the adventure for today?” Drew asked as he unlaced his sneakers.
“I don’t know. I was thinking I’d go with you today.”
“Really?”
He looked genuinely pleased. I wasn’t excited about sitting at a construction site all day. I had to remember to pack a book and a big straw hat because I just knew I was going to be hot, bored out of my mind, and would probably get sunburn again. But I was doing this for love.
He listened to BBC news as we drove the twenty miles to the village of Delices where the school was being built. My heart kind of lurched when I heard President Bush’s voice over the radio. I had to be deathly homesick, then.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he said, turning down the volume. “I’ll be nominated in a couple of weeks.”
“For the education secretary thing? I thought you said that was just a rumor.” Of course, I knew all along he’d get the job.
“At first it was.” He looked at me. “Is that okay?”
“What? The nomination?”
He nodded.
“Yes, of course! It’s huge, Drew. I’m really proud and happy for you.”
“I’m glad then. Mom wants to throw a big party, but I told her to wait until after I
’m confirmed.”
Vanessa knew?
“When did you find out?”
“A few days ago.”
Wonderful, I thought. He’s known this for a few days, Vanessa knows, and he’s only telling me now. This news will affect what happens to us and he told Vanessa before he told me. I had to check myself. I would not feed this little monster that was growing inside of me. I would let this go. I took a deep breath.
“I was thinking,” Drew said. “We should probably start thinking about what’s going to happen with us.”
My heart leapt again and this time it kept right on thudding. “How so?”
“I mean our future.” He glanced at me.
Our future? I could have jumped for joy or burst into tears.
“What, you mean, like the distance?” I didn’t even know what I was saying.
“Yeah, that. And…” He paused. “Do you like kids?”
“What?” We’d already talked about this a long time ago, even before we met. I’d said I wanted two, he’d said he wanted five. But I never thought the issue would ever come up again. Okay, I didn’t think it would come up this soon.
“I’m trying not to be sappy, Amelia. Help me out.”
“I’m not understanding, Drew.” The problem was I wanted this train to stop or at least let me off this instant. I just was not ready.
“I want to get married,” he said.
Too late. The collision had occurred before I’d had a chance to escape. Again, the urge to either jump for joy or start bawling overwhelmed me. This is what I’ve always wanted, I told myself. A handsome, smart husband who loved me. But did I have to stay here to be with him?
“You’re not saying anything?” This was the first time I’d ever seen him show any sign of insecurity.
“I’m speechless,” I said. Then I reached to grab his free hand. We held hands for a few seconds.
“So, will you marry me, Amelia?”
Oh my God. What do I say?
“Yes, well…”
He pulled over. There was no breakdown lane so he parked in a thicket of spindly trees and wildflowers. It was another gorgeous morning, and I felt like we could have been in a picture for a Condé Nast Traveler spread.
Letting Loose Page 17
