by Barrett
Kirin took a chair next to them. “I’m so relieved to have such a beautiful place to stay tonight.” She smiled at Silke. “It’s a far cry from our accommodations last night.”
Diane smiled warmly. “I think you’ll both be comfortable. There should be plenty of room, and I asked Manuel, the desk clerk, to check on your hotel reservation at the Outer Bank Lodge.” She squeezed Silke’s hand. “I’m so glad to see you, my old friend.” She kissed Silke’s cheek affectionately, stood up, and started for the door. “I’ll let you two get settled. Join us for a welcome cocktail later.”
Chapter Five
SILKE LOVED THE welcoming sounds of Caribbean music. Laced with steel drums and an upbeat tempo, the sounds greeted them as she and Kirin climbed the steps to the pool area. The sun was setting behind the resort to the west, casting the deck and pool in shadows. Palm fronds swayed in the filtered rays.
She had changed into a comfortable mauve tank top and a festive wraparound pareo for a skirt. The sensuous feel of the fabric against her skin and the way it brushed against the backs of her thighs softened into her own inner serenity. Even her marred vision couldn’t disturb that special place. She glanced at Kirin walking quietly beside her, amused by the fact that she’d asked no questions.
When her eye doctor had told her that her other senses of hearing, touching, and tasting would sharpen, she had scoffed at the idea. Now after eight months, she admitted he was right. Her sense of touch had intensified. Since her favorite art form was sculpting, the increased awareness with her hands was an added bonus.
“Watch that step,” Kirin said.
“Thanks.”
Textiles and woodworking lured her as well. A free-form teak goddess was her last project before she left on vacation. It had taken her weeks to find the form she needed within that block of wood with chisels, mallets, and rasps. When she ran her hands along the fluid lines, she felt the warmth emanating from inside. The final sanding took days, and once the Tung oil was applied, the surface was satiny smooth and flawless. The sensuality of woodworking was the remedy she longed for, like a calling almost.
AS THEY WALKED by the large pool toward the bar area, she recognized a few familiar faces from her previous visits. People called to her and greeted her warmly. She noticed that Kirin was hanging back and did a one-eighty. She took Kirin’s arm, pulled her closer, and introduced her to some of her Belizean comrades.
A waiter came up to her. “It is so good to see you again, mum.”
Silke hugged him. “Ricardo, I’m always happy as soon as you appear.”
“Miss Silke, just as beautiful as ever. Would you ladies like the rum punch?” His singsong cadence seemed to follow the music.
“Of course I would. Ricardo, this is my guest, Kirin Foster.” Silke put her hand on his arm, and Ricardo regarded Kirin. “Would you like one or something else?” Silke smoothed her skirt.
“Rum punch sounds perfect,” Kirin said.
Like a new member of the tribe, she followed them to a small table beside the pool.
“This place is postcard perfect. It looks like a set for a movie with thatched cottages, palm trees, and great music,” Kirin said. “Especially after our last accommodations.”
Silke took note of the ocean breeze, the salt against her skin. “Actually, they did use the resort for a short-lived reality show several years ago. Maybe you saw it?” She turned more fully to see Kirin. “Diane showed me clips of the old TV show Temptation Island just before they bought the place.
“After the filming, the owners lost interest and let the place deteriorate. They sold it at a loss so Diane and her husband bought it for a good price.” She noticed Kirin idly swinging her crossed leg with a contented smile on her face. She waved at another friend passing by. “The next few years they struggled to keep it going while they invested every nickel into upgrading the electricity and water. After that, business slowly began to grow. Because they lived on site, alongside the workers, word spread that steady jobs were available. Happy, loyal employees always bring visitors back. Every time.”
The drinks arrived complete with little umbrellas.
“Cheers.” Kirin held up her glass. “To a calmer rest of the vacation.”
“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.” Silke clinked glasses. I’d be more worried about boredom for such a Type A.
The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving a rosy pink glow on the fluffy white clouds over the reef. The evening breeze picked up, driving away the small insects and leaving a salty fresh scent in its wake.
Silke watched Kirin tip her head back and close her eyes as she slowly unwound a little. Perhaps the drink helped to assail her constant state of impatience. Silke got tired just being around that tension. Some newcomers took several days to acclimate to the slower way of life. Kirin’s apparent deceleration was a good thing.
She was surprised she felt more comfortable sitting with a stranger than she had with her partner of seven years. She closed her eyes and remembered their first trip here together. It had started pleasantly. But, within a couple of days, Rachel began to find faults. Major faults, minor faults—Silke took too long to get ready, or she didn’t like the clothes Silke picked out, or that her entrée cost too much. Pick, pick, pick.
Two years after the bickering started, their fights had become more physical, more crude, and violent. Pushing or shoving gradually escalated to slapping then punching. The fighting ended that fateful night eight months ago when Rachel had choked her unconscious, and she lost much of her sight. An uneasy peace was barely holding.
“Your friend Diane is waving at you from the restaurant,” Kirin said, and gently touched Silke’s arm.
Silke sat up and shook her head. “I’m sorry. The music distracted me I guess.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Kirin asked sincerely. “You look so serious.”
“I’m fine. Sometimes the re-entry to peaceful is hard. Things are not good at home. I can fill you in some time, but right now, I think Diane would like us to move to the dining room for dinner. Are you hungry?” She pushed back and unfolded her cane.
Kirin picked up her glass. “I’m ready to eat and something smells wonderful.”
Silke stood up and led the way into the open-air restaurant with Kirin close behind, a hand on her back as they went up the steps. Thoughtful.
“Good. You’re in luck,” Silke said. “Tonight is the pasta bar. You can try whatever you feel like. I promise you will not go to bed hungry.”
Diane escorted them to a small table in the corner close to the buffet. There were only eight tables in the dining room with six more on the open-air porch.
“Sammy will take your order, but I thought I’d join you for a glass of wine if that’s all right,” Diane said.
“Please do. It’s so good to be here with you again,” Silke said as she sat. She tried discreetly to locate her utensils and napkin. “And tell us about the storm. All we heard about was the flooding inland. What in the world happened?”
Diane shook her head. “Lord, what a mess. We’re grateful we didn’t suffer as much damage as some of the buildings closer to the open ocean. We’re protected from the brunt of most storms because of the barrier reef. The outer bands of rain were fierce, and we lost several palm branches. We have a lot of cleanup to do at the south end of the resort, but nothing serious. The boys started working right away, and now the beachfront is clear. A couple of guests reported leaks. All repaired. Fortunately, we have our own generators and our own water.”
“The travelers who were waiting at the airport bordered on frantic—shouting, shoving, and demanding. It was frightening,” Silke said.
Diane smiled. “We’ve been through it many times, but it’s hard for folks who aren’t used to it and need to change plans. I’m glad you two found a place to stay last night. Oh, here’s your dinner.”
A young man juggled a tray with their entrees and set down a basket of fresh warm bread in the center of the
table. Kirin beamed at the anxiously awaited meal.
“I’ll let you eat in peace,” Diane said. “Silke, we’ll catch up tomorrow.”
Diane hugged her then made her way through the restaurant, stopping to chat with new guests. The waiter served two large bowls of pasta—one fettuccine and one spaghetti Bolognese and refilled their water glasses.
Kirin attacked her meal with gusto as Silke watched. It was nice having dinner with someone for a change, and she was grateful for Kirin’s assistance over the last day. Ever since she lost part of her vision, simple everyday tasks were sometimes overwhelming. One more reason the Belize vacation became the high point of her year. Spending several months here on the beach became an entertaining notion for her. A number of expat artists lived on the island, many here for years. The more tenuous and vicious her relationship with Rachel had become, the more Silke dreamed of escaping.
The past few months had been unpredictable because of Rachel’s guilt, and Silke’s fear kept her stomach in knots. Even the routine two weeks that Rachel was out of town didn’t feel completely safe.
“Nothing more for me,” Kirin said when the waiter approached. “I can’t remember the last time I ate so much.”
The waiter cleared away the dishes as Diane returned. “Did you leave room for dessert? Silke, you never pass up a dessert.” She smiled and then winked at Kirin.
“Maybe later,” Silke said. “But right now, I can’t eat another thing. I’m afraid Kirin and I were deprived of food for so long that we overdid it. It was delicious as always.”
“Kirin, our phone lines are up, and Carlos will call your resort if you want to go over to the office,” Diane said.
“Really? That’s terrific, and I really appreciate it. If you’ll both excuse me for a minute, I’ll try to find out what’s going on.” Kirin stood and strode toward the office.
Diane reached across the table and patted Silke’s arm. “And how are you, my old friend? Your new friend seems nice. Are you trading up to a new model?”
Silke’s jaw dropped in surprise. “Diane, you know me better than that. Kirin helped me out, and I’m just returning the favor. As I tell you every year, the moment I land in Belize, my heart opens and my blood pressure drops—hence, my pleasant glow.”
Diane’s brow furrowed. “Still living in a war zone with what’s her name? You know you don’t have to. You can come here whenever you want. Mark adores you as much as I do. I worry about you and there isn’t much I can do when you’re hundreds of miles away.”
Silke felt better just hearing those words. “I know. And believe me I appreciate it. After all these years, I just don’t know how to break it off peacefully. It’s clear we don’t love each other anymore, but neither one of us is willing to step out of the comfort of the familiar. We’re both tiptoeing around right now. Rachel is still mortified that she hurt me so badly. She apologizes constantly. A leaky, dripping faucet of regret. I think she’d leave if I asked her. I’m just not sure how I’d manage by myself.”
“What about counseling, do you think she’d go for that?” Diane took a drink from one of the water glasses.
Silke thought about the endless discussions and arguments. “I asked Rachel to go to counseling but she sarcastically rejected the idea and stormed out of the house.” She glanced at Diane. “No, I tried. I really don’t see any way to reconcile. I’m not sure I can trust her again. I just need a plan.”
“Can I offer a suggestion?” Diane leaned forward. “We’re fixing up the original owner’s quarters for extra space. I hurried so my parents could come down, but Dad has to have hip surgery. They won’t be able to travel for at least six months after that. Why don’t you think about coming back and doing some serious soul searching? It can’t hurt and it won’t cost hardly anything. Honey, it’s time for a change.” She slapped Silke on the forearm.
Silke felt a chair scraping the floorboards across from her and looked up to see Kirin rejoin them. “Were you able to get through?”
“Yes. I talked to the night manager over there. He apologized for not being able to contact anyone, but they suffered some severe damage to the facility. They still don’t have power except for a couple of generators and phone service is erratic. They have not been able to get supplies because their boats capsized. Long story short, they don’t have guests or even much of a staff right now. They’ll refund the deposit, but he has no idea when they’ll be open for business.”
Silke looked at Diane, who nodded sympathetically and squeezed Silke’s arm before releasing it.
“That’s unfortunate,” Diane said. “I think you would have enjoyed seeing it. The owner did a remarkable job, considering the structures they built are on an unstable piece of swampland. Top of the line place.”
“Were you able to talk to your editor? What does she want you to do?” Silke said.
“I didn’t try to call her. It’s almost midnight in New York. I’ll try tomorrow morning I guess.” Kirin leaned her head back as she raked her fingers through her hair. “I told her that the Oregon wine country was a better story.”
They all laughed.
“I’m not a journalist, but I can’t help but think that your adventure so far has been pretty exciting. In addition to the storm damage to the islands, I’ll bet there are some fascinating stories about the determined Belizean’s recovery. Not many readers of your magazine have lived through a tropical storm.” Diane’s cell phone beeped, and she pulled it from her pocket. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” She got up and headed to the kitchen.
“SHE’S RIGHT,” SILKE said. “You could write a very different kind of story, if you were interested.”
Kirin straightened up and looked at Silke. “Wow, I’ve never written anything like that. Do you want a nightcap and maybe we could brainstorm?”
They drank rum punch, tossed around a few ideas about the people, the economy, farming, and eventually created an outline for a story. Soon, they were the only ones left in the restaurant.
“This is great,” Kirin said. “I’m really excited about tackling a new story. Maybe I should hire you as a collaborator. Or co-author?”
Silke laughed and shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m happy to help, considering your dismal first impressions.” She stood and weaved slightly.
Kirin grabbed her arm. “Easy does it, tiger.”
“Thanks, this was fun.” Silke leaned into Kirin as they navigated back to the condo.
“You know,” Kirin stopped and faced Silke, “this really is a great idea. I’m going to shoot Esther an email with a proposal for a radical new take on a travel article.”
“I’m glad.” Silke tilted to the left.
Relaxed, inebriated, and feeling quite satisfied with their bold new idea, they staggered along the moonlit beach arm in arm.
The lights glowed in their first floor condo, which turned out to be a good thing, Kirin thought as she unlocked the door. She remembered Silke’s vision problem. Surprisingly, Silke weaved a fairly straight path to the kitchen.
“Do you want some water?” Silke asked.
“That’s probably a very good idea,” Kirin said, coming out of the adjacent bathroom. She marveled at how well Silke navigated the condo. Of course, she’d stayed here before. “Thank you.” She took the glass. “I’m pretty excited about the project, I hope Esther likes it. Even if she doesn’t, there’s no reason I can’t sell it to someone else. I can write up a review of the Beach Resort for her.”
“That would be nice. I know Diane and Mark would love it.” Silke came over to the table where Kirin sorted through gear from her bag. “Do you want help with the sofa bed?”
“I think I can manage okay, but thanks,” Kirin said and laid out two spiral notebooks.
Silke paused. “Okay then. I’m going to have a quick shower and turn in.”
Kirin watched her navigate by touching the furniture. She really wanted to ask about what had happened to her sight, but it felt awkward. Still, Silke mov
ed so gracefully and confidently that it wouldn’t be obvious—except for the cane. Kirin knew she had been very fortunate to find this place and this woman.
The large leaf-shaped blades of the ceiling fan made a soft whirring sound overhead as Kirin rearranged her belongings. She put on her soft old Brewer tee shirt along with cotton shorts. The sofa bed pulled out easily and the bright white sheets and white comforter beckoned her. She grabbed pillows from the closet and bumped into Silke coming out the bedroom.
“Excuse me. I wasn’t looking.” She put her hands on her hips.
Silke smiled. “No problem. Looks like you are all set. I just wanted to say good night.”
Kirin set the pillows on the bed and turned around. Silke stood close and reached her arm out. Unsure what to do, Kirin stepped toward her into her line of sight. A slight balancing act, but she managed to move into Silke’s space.
