by Sandra Kitt
“I don’t have anything for you,” Diane admitted.
“Are you offering a rain check?”
“Do you want one?”
“Sure, why not? Might come in handy one day.”
It was only ten o’clock when it became clear that every one had pretty much had it for the day. The kids trekked off to the upper-level bedrooms. Eva got linens for Diane’s bed and together they made up the love seat while once again Adam and Hale sat on the veranda in quiet conversation.
“What do they talk about?” Diane asked Eva.
“Everything,” Eva said, sitting on top of the trunk as she watched Diane complete the making of the pull-out bed. “It’s sacred ground, so to speak. I never hear much about what they discuss. I think it’s good for Adam. He’s not close to that many men. And it’s very good for Hale. He respects Adam so much.”
Diane took all of that in. She wanted very much to ask if her father and Hale ever talked about her. But why would they? She’d made it clear years ago that she wasn’t interested in someone like Hale, what he said or did.
The admission made her suddenly very uncomfortable.
“Were you surprised to find him on St. John?”
“That’s an understatement,” Diane confessed wryly.
“Honey, I know how you feel, but your father and I were happy he said he’d come. Hale doesn’t have what we’d call good family. It’s been hard for him.”
“Hayden and Bailey seem to like him a lot.”
“They do. He’s very patient with them. He’s also a good influence.”
“Oh.”
Eva yawned. “I’m so tired. It was a nice day, wasn’t it?”
Diane glanced at her stepmother. “Are you okay?”
Eva avoided her eyes. “The kids are high-energy and high-maintenance. They can wear anybody out.”
“You know if Daddy hears you saying that, he’ll have words with them.”
“I know, and I don’t want him to. I…it really has nothing to do with the kids.” Eva got up to say good-night. She stroked Diane’s arm in passing. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Diane considered Eva’s comment, her mind rushing ahead as she tried to guess what was going on, if anything, with her stepmother. She was still mulling over possibilities when she went into the kitchen to fill a glass carafe with ice water for her room. She was aware that there was still someone on the veranda.
“Daddy?” Curious, she headed toward the open deck.
“It’s Hale. I’m just leaving. Good night.”
Diane pushed open the screen door and found him at the top of the steps. He was a large, looming shadow. She could make out the outline of his baseball cap and his wide shoulders under the light colored T-shirt. The shape of his athletic long legs that she knew were covered with little curls of dark hair. His face and expression were lost to her in the night.
“I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”
He didn’t answer right away, but Diane had the sense that he was watching her, or trying to in the dark.
“Probably. Merry Christmas, Diane.” He started down the stairs.
“Hale,” she called out, surprising herself. “I forgot to thank you for the ride from Cruz Bay today. I was…I didn’t expect to see you.”
“I hope you’re not going to let that spoil the holiday for you.”
“I think I can handle it,” she said lightly.
“Then you don’t have to thank me. It’s nice that you did.” Hale started to leave and stopped again. “Look, I like taking a quick swim before calling it a night. Want to join me?”
“You mean right now? It’s so late. It’s dark.”
“I know. You’re not afraid, are you?”
Diane held her breath.
You’re not afraid, are you?
That’s exactly what he’d asked that night. A challenge. A dare.
“I’ll get my things.”
Chapter 5
Diane was a little surprised by how much traffic there was on the road into and out of town. Jeeps and SUVs and the big multiseat, open-air vans transporting groups of holiday vacationers to and from various activities. There were now dozens of restaurants, wine bars, cafés and clubs in Cruz Bay and Mongoose Junction, as well as the large chain hotels with their high-end amenities like large flat-screen TVs so they could host sports events and the latest Hollywood release on HD DVD.
The island had changed, Diane mused, since her first visits as a child in the years following her parents’ divorce. She’d lived for the summers and flying to St. John to be with Adam. She’d first met Eva on a flight to the island. On St. John Eva had met Adam and here they’d fallen in love.
Diane remembered other times as well, like spring break from college, holidays or carnival when she didn’t want to miss any of the local color. Those were the years of youthful indulgence, when hanging out with a group of friends or strangers provided excitement and instant gratification for the restlessness she sometimes felt.
Party like it’s 1999.
She realized that the way she felt might be due to her parents’ divorce and the feeling of having been abandoned, for a while, by both. Meeting Eva had changed her youthful outlook on her parents.
But Diane was glad that neither she nor Hale seemed inclined to that kind of entertainment tonight. Noise and endless drinking did not necessarily make for the most fun anymore. The idea of a nighttime swim with him sounded refreshing, enticing and…pretty romantic. Who knew?
What she did know was that she was not about to pass this up. She just wasn’t at all sure why.
After putting on a suit and grabbing a towel and a few other things she quietly left the dark house. Hale was waiting for her, the motor already idling. Diane was instantly reminded of another recent car ride with him that had led not only to revelations of truth, but to a catharsis that had given her several nights of dreams and fantasies. She was beginning to feel that way again.
The silence felt a little awkward and Diane asked questions as a way of dealing with it, not knowing what Hale might have actually been thinking. How did he like staying on the sloop? He loved it. He liked the quiet out on the water at night. The sense of safety. Did he ever go into town at night? Sometimes. Just to see what was going on. Listen to music and have a few beers.
Diane resisted the urge to ask if he’d met anyone interesting in town. If he had, she’d then wonder if he’d ever brought anyone back to the sloop to stay the night.
She decided she didn’t need to know.
The air was warm and still. Katydids and crickets were a background chorus. After a few miles all that could be heard, as Hale turned off the Shore Road into a small parking lot under the overhang of sea grape trees, was the gentle lapping of water onto the sandy beach. He shut off the engine and turned off the lights and they were plunged into darkness. But it was a magical darkness, Diane noted right away.
Out in the bay were maybe a half dozen anchored small craft. Only two were in use, as far as she could tell. One was her father’s sloop, Paradise. In the distance above the horizon the sky seemed dotted with lights that indicated homes or small businesses on nearby islands. Overhead a perfectly clear night revealed millions of stars.
“Do you have everything?” Hale asked.
“Yes,” Diane answered, patting her canvas tote.
“The Zodiac is this way.”
He walked slowly so that she could keep up through the sandy underbrush of shrub roots and old leaves. As soon as they both hit the sand they removed their shoes and continued barefoot. The Zodiac, the motor-operated launch that was used to ferry them from land to the sailboat, was on the shore.
Hale pushed it down the beach incline and into the water. He held the mooring line to keep it from drifting away. Having sailed with her father countless times as a child, Diane knew the routine. She put her things on the floor of the boat and carefully climbed in and took a seat near the bow. Hale pushed the launch into deeper water before getting in himsel
f, sitting in the stern next to the throttle for the motor. They were soon moving soundlessly through the inky water toward the Paradise. The ride took all of thirty seconds.
The stairs leading up from the water and onto the deck were off the back. Again as Hale steadied the small craft, Diane got her footing and quickly climbed on board. Hale tied off the line and soon followed.
She walked the deck toward the bow, holding on to the cables and lines for balance. Behind her she could hear Hale. When she faced him he was in the process of peeling off his shirt. He stepped out of a pair of shoes as he unbuttoned his cargo shorts and removed them.
Diane tried not to look too long or to stare. His simple activity seemed provocative. Seeing Hale with so little on had an immediate effect. She felt suddenly vulnerable but also very female. She was aware of the physical differences between them covered by the merest bit of cloth. She felt hypnotized, watching Hale in his swimsuit. Not those god awful long jammers that reached almost to the knees or the baggy trunks like the ballplayers wore. Just simple, plain navy blue athletic shorts.
Her imagination ran rampant, mixed with a distinct memory. And for reasons she didn’t care to look at too closely, Diane felt a little afraid.
She put down her bag and slowly began to undress as well. She removed her own peasant blouse and shorts to reveal her bikini, belatedly wishing that she’d worn a one-piece suit instead.
Was the suit too small? Too revealing? What if her body didn’t do it justice?
Overwhelmed with doubts, she stepped onto the rail of the boat and jumped.
The water hit her hard, rushing up against her as she plunged through the surface. Water saturated her hair. Unfortunately, the sheer force of the jump caused the top of her bikini to rip above her breasts and over her head.
Diane surfaced, gasping and sputtering with annoyance. She tried to tread water and cover her breasts at the same time, kicking to turn about in a futile search for the bikini top. She heard a splash nearby. The water displacement was much smaller and neater, and Hale surfaced within four feet of her.
“What was that all about? You okay?”
“No! I…lost my top!”
“What?”
“My top! I jumped in and it came right off! I can’t find it.”
If she was expecting sympathy or immediate offers to swim about and find the missing half of her suit, Diane was about to be severely disappointed.
Hale began to laugh.
Not a chuckle of amusement or a chortle of understanding but a deep, from-the-belly, laugh-out-loud bark that carried on the air through the dark.
“Stop it, Hale! This isn’t funny,” she hissed, frantic.
The laugh grew stronger. He went onto his back to float and continued to laugh with abandon.
Diane shoved her hand flat on the surface and a great wave of water splashed over Hale’s face. It made no difference.
Helpless, Diane listened to him. She finally realized that he wasn’t laughing at her. The humor of what had happened slowly occurred to her. It was funny. But she wasn’t about to laugh and let him off the hook. She turned and began breaststroking away from him and the Paradise.
Hale gained control and called out after her.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Why do you care?” she answered, and kept going toward the opening of the bay.
Diane went several strokes further but now there was no sound behind her at all. She stopped and flipped over, looking back. She could see the sailboat and the lights from St. John in the background. She couldn’t see Hale.
“Hale!” she called.
Nothing.
“If you’re trying to scare me it won’t work.”
Nothing.
“Hale?”
She turned and treaded, and paddled and treaded.
“Hale? Don’t do this. I’m…”
Something grabbed her ankle and yanked. Diane squealed instantly in genuine fright and began kicking defensively, her heart racing. And then there was a sudden geyser of water in front of her. She squealed again. Hale broke the surface and hooked an arm around her waist. Diane felt herself being hauled, lifesaving fashion, back to the Paradise.
“What are you doing? Let me go!”
They reached the hull of the boat and he released her.
“You need to be tied and gagged,” he said sternly. “You need to have your butt whipped. You just need to get over yourself and grow up. You don’t need the top. Nothing to see anyway. Your vanity is safe.”
With that he swam away from her, easily and smoothly, but more or less around the boat, keeping it within reach. Diane watched him and came to her senses. He was right. She’d acted foolishly. Childishly. Again. They weren’t teenagers anymore.
Hale was the only man she’d ever known who wouldn’t put up with her tantrums or her games. The only one who never hesitated to put her in her place when it was called for.
And he’d also never belittled her, although God knows there were times when he was within his rights to.
Properly chastised, she treaded water in place and swallowed some of her pride. She began to breaststroke again, slowly and comfortably, counting to herself until she found her rhythm. Finally she began to relax and enjoy the pure pleasure of suspension in the cool dark water.
She followed behind Hale but kept a distance. His presence became comforting. She experienced a sense of peace and order and safety. It was a surprise to her, something she realized she hadn’t known, had not even allowed herself, in nearly two years. The awful weight of guilt, embarrassment of those two years and a failed marriage, felt like it was being washed away.
She stopped swimming and pushed herself into a floating position. Gently sculling with her arms to stay in place, she turned her face upward. She could feel her wet hair floating around her face.
“What do you see?”
Hale was close again, floating next to her.
“I see…diamonds in the sky.”
“Never could see this in D.C. where I came from.”
She waited. He’d never made reference to his past before. At least, not to her.
“When I was a little girl I thought there were only stars down here, over St. John. That’s why I always felt this was a special place.”
“Sure is.”
They were quiet for a long time, just enjoying the night, the quiet. Then Diane began to feel chilled in the water, her fingers already pruney and slightly wrinkled.
“Ready to get back on board?” Hale asked.
She was relieved that he’d read her mind.
“Okay.”
They reached the steps and Hale climbed aboard first. Diane was peeved that he didn’t let her go ahead. But when she reached the top of the steps Hale was standing behind a towel held up for her. Murmuring a thank-you, she turned her back to him and took the towel ends to wrap and twist around her wet body sarong fashion.
Hale had toweled off and gone below deck, leaving Diane alone. She sat on the built-in bench at the stern. Finding another stack of towels, she used a second one to tie around her wet hair like a turban. When Hale came back he was carrying a can of beer for himself and a soda for her.
“Thanks,” she said, accepting the frosty can and popping the tab to sip. She hugged the towel to her body with her arms, aware that she was mostly naked beneath it.
“I have wine, if you’d like that instead.”
“This is fine,” she said, lifting her soda can briefly.
Hale seemed to be studying the beer can with deep intent and fell silent. Diane had the feeling that, as had been the case since they’d first seen each other weeks earlier, he wasn’t going to start and lead any conversation. It was up to her.
“Where is your family?”
Hale’s head snapped up, his expression first surprised and then wary.
“Why do you want to know?”
She shrugged, sipping from the soda. “Curious. Everyone has family. It seems str
ange that you’re not with them for the holidays. I never hear anything about yours.”
He arched a brow and a sardonic grin lifted a corner of his mouth. “I’ve been told you’re not interested and could care less. I believe that’s a direct quote.”
Her gaze dropped and she fiddled with her terry cloth turban. “My father told you, didn’t he? I…did say that once. It was a long time ago.”
“I don’t know if all that much has changed, Diane.”
He said it easily with no rancor or anger. Just a statement of fact. It hit a nerve.
“That’s not true.”
He glanced sharply at her again.
“When I saw you at that gala that night, I…I wasn’t expecting to see you so I…”
“You shot from the hips,” he said dryly.
She nodded. “You’re right. And later driving home, I realized I’d behaved very badly. Childishly. Like…just like when I was seventeen. I felt terrible.”
He sat perfectly still watching her, not responding and not reacting.
“I really did,” she said earnestly. “Frankly, I surprised myself. Why did I do that?”
“I know why.”
“Tell me,” she pleaded, more eagerly than she realized.
Hale continued to study her and then slowly shook his head. “I think you know. Or you’ll soon figure it out.”
Diane was disappointed and frustrated. She gnawed on her lip and shrugged. “I guess I deserved that.”
“Deserve is not the point.”
Silence fell between them as they finished the cold drinks. Hale frowned at his empty can.
“My family, such as it is, saw a lot of hard times when I was growing up. I can’t really remember when we weren’t struggling to pay rent or buy food, or do anything. My father couldn’t hold a job. He didn’t like taking orders from anybody. He’d get mad at being criticized or asked to do something he didn’t want to do and quit. He never stayed anyplace more than a month or two.”
Now it was Diane’s turn to sit perfectly still. She listened, fully aware that he was making a huge concession. After all, she knew she had no right to expect him to explain his life or background but she didn’t want him to stop.
