Stone - Big Girls & Bad Boys

by D. H. Cameron

  But I suddenly wondered why I was so willing to work so hard for stuff I didn’t even need. People in Jamaica, like Roy, did what they had to in order to survive. They had little choice. I chose to do what I did and the reason behind that eluded me. I nibbled at my patty as that sunk in. “Not hungry anymore?” Rick asked me.

  “Huh? No, I was just thinking,” I said and pushed the thoughts aside and dug in. The patty was so delicious, savory and warm with a fluffy crust. I hate to admit it, but I ate three of them. They weren’t big, maybe as big as my open hand, but still. I washed them down with the cold beer.

  “Gets to you, doesn’t it?” Rick asked.

  “What’s that?” I wondered.

  “This place, its people, the unhurried pace, the smiles,” he said. I guess it did. Roy was working his butt off for a pittance compared to what I worked my butt off for, but he seemed happy. Genuinely happy. Not like he bought a new pair of shoes just to toss them into the closet and never wear them happy, but just plain happy. Happy to be alive, happy to have work and purpose, happy to meet new people. Like Rick, I’m sure he had problems in his life, big ones compared to the minutiae people worried about back home.

  “Yeah, it does,” I said. I couldn’t deny it. Jamaica, as imperfect as she was, had an appeal to her. Better than back home? No, not by a long shot. Less complicated, less frenzied, definitely. At least compared to Chicago and cities like her. I’m sure down in Florida or out in Arizona you could find a place like this, but not where I lived.

  “I know a guy that fishes for lobsters. How about we go get a few and we boil them up back at my place along with some rice and peas. Then we can kick back, smoke a bowl or two, get a little tipsy and make love all night?” Rick asked. I giggled at the proposition.

  “Am I supposed to say no to that?” I wondered.

  “I was kind of hoping it was an offer too good to resist,” Rick answered.

  “It was. Sounds like a great idea,” I said. Typical vacation. Talking about the next meal while still eating another. The rest of Rick’s offer wasn’t so typical but that’s what made it so appealing. We didn’t leave right away. In fact, Rick and I spent over an hour sitting there under the trees, watching the people go by and the placid waves roll in. We indulged in a few more beers before we finally got up to leave. I didn’t even know what time it was and I discovered I didn’t care.

  We walked down the beach further and found the guy Rick spoke of. He was an older gentleman, thin and wiry with white hair cropped close to his head with a long beard, also white. He was missing a few teeth but his smile was infectious. I could barely understand a word he said. He spoke in the local Patwa dialect. Rick, however, understood enough. We left with two fat lobsters still crawling about in the bottom of a paper bag.

  “You know how to cook those, right?” I asked as we made our way back to Rick’s place.

  “Of course,” Rick replied. They weren’t like the lobsters you’d find in a fancy restaurant in America. These were smaller and didn’t have the big, meaty claws. Rick assured me they were plenty tasty.

  “You like spicy food?” he asked as we waited for an opening in traffic to cross the busy highway.

  “I do, to a point,” I replied.

  “You’re going to love dinner then,” he said, grabbed my hand and we dashed across the highway, a car weaving to avoid us as its horn blared. But drivers in Jamaica shrugged off that kind of thing as normal. It was nearing evening when we finally arrived at Rick’s home. The afternoon had passed so quickly. Probably because I was enjoying Rick’s company so much.

  I offered to help but Rick wouldn’t have it. Instead, I grabbed us a couple of beers, making myself at home, then sat and watched him still in nothing but my bikini. I was actually coming to enjoy being scantily clad. I suppose part of it was the fact it was nearly ninety degrees, even in the evening, but the best part was the way Rick looked at me. He had spent the entire day stealing glances at me. It made me feel special. It made me feel sexy.

  Dinner was fantastic. The lobster was so good, a bit different than the cold water lobsters back in America but still tasty and even more so with the Jamaican jerk sauce. The rice and peas, actually rice and red beans, was filling and a bit spicy as well. The beer helped keep the fire in check. “I’m beginning to wonder why I spent all that money on a room at The Palms,” I said after we finished eating.

  “Why is that?” Rick wondered.

  “I’ve barely been there and your food is much better,” I said.

  “I don’t think you’re going to sleep there tonight either,” Rick told me.

  “Really? You going to seduce me again?” I asked. I already knew I wanted to spend the night with Rick but that didn’t mean I wasn’t eager for him to seduce me.

  “That’s the plan,” he told me as he ducked into his small home. He emerged with two more Red Stripes and his pipe.

  “Oh, I see. Plying me with drugs and alcohol is the plan,” I said.

  “Those are just the backup plan. I was planning on giving you another massage,” Rick told me.

  “Oh, you’re good. Honestly, that’s what got me into your bed last night,” I told him. Rick chuckled. I wasn’t myself. That wasn’t a bad thing. I was much more adventurous and brazen than usual. I guess I was on vacation and that’s what vacations were all about but I felt like the genie was out of the bottle. I didn’t think I’d be the same person once I got back home. I didn’t want to be the same person.

  Rick packed some ganja in the pipe and handed it to me along with a lighter. Then he walked behind me as I lit up. His hands worked their magic on my nearly nude body as I smoked the pipe. I’d rarely felt so relaxed or so detached from real life. My problems and worries were beyond my reach suddenly, replaced with a serene feeling that I was beginning to enjoy immensely. I took another hit and held the pipe for Rick.

  He didn’t take it from me. Instead, he leaned forward without removing his hands from my shoulders and neck and took a hit. I giggled, glad he didn’t stop. Soon, his hands were covering more and more real estate, my upper arms, my back and my breasts. It was dark now and I felt that despite the other small homes scattered about, we were alone. I reached back and untied my bikini top, letting it fall exposing my heavy breasts.

  “You’re a naughty girl, Erin,” Rick whispered in my ear and then leaned over me as he cupped my breasts in his hands. I turned my head and we kissed, deeply, passionately. I wiggled out of my bottoms as well, sitting naked in plain sight but hidden within the darkness.

  “Make love to me, Rick. Take me inside and do what you did to me last night,” I urged him. Rick took his pipe from me and took one last hit before setting it aside and coming around in front of me.

  “No, I’ve got other tricks up my sleeve tonight,” he said and offered me his hand. I took it and rose from the chair, standing naked next to him. I didn’t mind. In fact, I liked the way that made me feel. I kissed Rick, reached down and squeezed his cargo shorts. I discovered Rick was more than ready.

  “I’m yours. Do with me what you must,” I teased and led Rick inside. I laid on his bed as Rick took off his scant clothes. His manhood stood at attention for me and I couldn’t resist temptation. I found myself on my knees, pleasuring Rick to his obvious delight.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he told me. I gazed up in the darkness, the dim light just enough to discern Rick’s features. We took turns over the next hour pleasuring each other in many imaginative ways. I was breathless as Rick finally entered me, desperate for more. And more was what Rick afforded me. That night we indulged in all manner of normally taboo acts of love. I felt liberated as we did what our lust demanded. I was set free as Rick and I indulged every wicked desire.

  It was early morning before Rick finally succumbed to his need. If it wasn’t for the fatigue and the late hour, I would have been happy to continue. As it was, I’d never been so satisfied in my entire life. I’d never felt so free, so self-assured, so sexy. For a long while
, Rick held me in his arms as we recovered. Each of us was covered in a perspiration brought about by our frantic lovemaking and the warm, sultry air. I was tired but I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want this to end, but it would.

  “I’ve got a flight home tomorrow...today I guess,” I said finally. Rick didn’t say anything. “It’s not until late afternoon. I don’t need to leave the resort until almost noon,” I offered. I thought Rick might be disappointed or even angry. Maybe he was but that’s not what he expressed to me.

  “Stay here,” he said. I turned to regard him.

  “Tonight? Of course,” I told him but I somehow knew that’s not what he meant.

  “No, don’t go home. Don’t go back to Chicago. Stay with me,” he clarified. I knew that’s what he was going to say. I felt it in my heart even if I didn’t recognize it in my mind.

  “Rick, I have a job, a home, friends. I can’t just stay. I’m not like you,” I told him.

  “You’re right, you’re not,” he said. I frowned. “But you can choose to be. I’m not special. I’m not unique. Anyone can do this, they just have to decide to do it,” he said. I was left without a proper response. I knew what I should say but it was what I wanted to say that held my tongue in check. I should laugh at the idea, go home and do what was expected of me. I wanted to tell him I would stay, however. Fear held me from doing so. Fear forced me to say what I should.

  “I’ve had a fantastic couple of days. Some of the best ever, Rick. I like you...a lot. But this isn’t real. This is a fantasy. Maybe not for you but it is for me. This isn’t me. This is...,” I said but Rick jumped in.

  “If this isn’t you, then who is it? That’s bullshit, Erin. This is the real you just as I found the real Rick when I decided to leave all that behind. That overworked, miserable woman you’ll become when you return home is the imposter,” Rick said. Something changed as he said that. My defenses kicked in. It was subtle but it happened.

  “How do you know that?” I asked him, pushing back ever so slightly.

  “If you’re not happy, and you’ve told me you aren’t, how can that be the real you?” he asked. That hit me hard. He was right, of course, but I wasn’t ready to accept it.

  “It’s not that easy,” I claimed.

  “Look, I’m not going to spend our remaining time lobbying you to do what you aren’t ready to do. I like you, Erin. I’m not afraid to admit that. Hell, I could see myself loving you. I don’t know why, does anyone know why they fall for someone else? But I could easily let myself fall in love with you. I don’t say that to pressure you. I just want you to know,” he said. I was speechless.

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. I could admit I enjoyed Rick’s company too. He hadn’t told me he loved me, however. He only said that he thought he could. Still, it was frightening to hear it. It threatened my resolve. I became more defensive. Not outwardly and it was barely perceptible even to me, but I had hardened myself against Rick’s words. My true feelings were pushed aside in favor of what was seemingly comfortable and safe.

  “Then can we at least enjoy the next few hours together?” I asked. It was a lame response, a cop out, a version of “we can still be friends.” I was separating myself from Rick as I had to. I had a life back in Chicago and I was too busy reassuring myself, reinforcing the expectations of society, to consider any other possibilities. I might as well have already been on that plane home.

  “Sure,” was all Rick said. There was no hint of disappointment or anger. If I could discern anything from his response, it was a sense of acceptance. Rick saw the world differently than I did. I could already feel that he was living in the moment and wasn’t going to spend too much time lamenting my absence. I pretended that he would find another lonely woman and seduce her into his bed but I suspected that was what I needed to assume for my own benefit even as I hoped I was wrong.

  Rick slept after a time, but I didn’t. I pretended to as he rose to make us breakfast and coffee. I’d spent the balance of the night assuring myself that not only was my decision the right one, but that there was really no decision to make at all. I’d spent the night justifying why I had to go back instead of staying. How I was being selfish, childish and foolish for even thinking that staying here was a real possibility. By the time Rick sat next to me and gently shook me, I was already on my way home, at least in my mind.

  “Thanks,” I said as he handed me coffee. I wanted awkward silence to avoid having to face myself but Rick was in a chatty mood. He seemed to have taken my refusal in stride. Just another bump in the road and I let my mind turn that into just more evidence that I should go.

  “What time will you arrive home?” he asked me.

  “Not until almost ten tonight,” I replied cordially.

  “And then work in the morning?” Rick asked. I wondered if he was trying another tact.

  “Afraid so. Bills need to be paid,” I said.

  “Yes, they do,” was all he said. He stood and finished preparing our breakfast. We ate in silence. When we were finished, Rick offered me a T-shirt to wear over my bikini for the ride back to the resort. We left his home on his scooter and found the roads not nearly as busy as we had in the evening. Minutes later, I was standing next to the scooter.

  “Thank you for everything,” I told him. Rick smiled.

  “My pleasure,” he replied without a hint of regret. He seemed to genuinely mean that.

  “Maybe I’ll look you up if I come back,” I said hopefully, trying to put a positive spin on this, trying to retain some sort of good feeling.

  “As long as I don’t get that sailboat finished...but that’s unlikely,” he joked. Rick was doing what I should have been doing. He was living in the moment, taking life as it came. I didn’t represent a regret to him. I didn’t represent what could have been. I was a few days of fun, a temporary fling, a good time. To Rick, our time together would be just a pleasant memory. I wish I felt that way. On the outside, I pretended I felt the same. On the inside, however, there was a quiet battle being fought. A cold war of the heart. Jamaica, Rick and true happiness, and maybe more, were losing that war.

  “Then I expect you’ll be here for a long time,” I replied, keeping the joke going.

  “Undoubtedly,” Rick said. I held out my hand, one last gesture of submission to so called real life. Rick didn’t even flinch. He shook my hand, wished me well and twisted the throttle on his scooter. It was a moment before the scooter responded and in that moment, Rick rolled his eyes to show his displeasure at the weary machine. I laughed as he finally pulled away and out of my life. I laughed and watched him go. I laughed to keep from crying.

  >>O<<

  The plane ride home didn’t cleanse me but rather masked what I was feeling. The sweet memories of my short vacation from reality faded into obscurity as I immersed myself in thoughts of home, work and responsibility. As I disembarked the plane in Chicago, I was already ticking off what I had to do at work to catch up. Life was back to normal and though it wasn’t ideal, it was comfortable and familiar. There was little delight but at least there was no fear.

  Sleep came easily having not slept the night prior but it was not pleasant, restful sleep. I had dreams I couldn’t remember but the feelings they left me with were familiar. Guilt, longing, unease and weariness. I awoke physically rested but mentally drained. But work demanded I get up and do my duty. There were invoices to generate, spreadsheets to update and ledgers to balance. And so, I threw myself into it.

  “Looks like the system is down. We’ll probably have to come in Saturday to catch up,” my supervisor announced. She wasn’t a bad person, just doing her job, but I hated what she represented. She was authority and authority was demanding. Allied Chemical, the deity I’d chosen to pray to for my daily bread, demanded continual sacrifices. The pay was phenomenal, the benefits generous but I sacrificed much to earn those.

  I put my head in my hands and sighed. I felt numb to it. More sacrifice on the altar of expectations. More martyrdo
m in the name of success as dictated by others. But inside, a pitched battle was being waged. The Erin I had met and become familiar with in Jamaica, the woman that longed to be back there right now, in Rick’s arms, showing off my less than perfect body without a care in the world, was fighting back. I could not yet discern what was happening but I could feel that the matter was not settled.

  Weeks passed and the feeling of uneasiness grew. Each day, the practiced routine of climbing from bed became more difficult. I felt sick, depressed and listless. I knew what it was. I wasn’t ill. I wasn’t suffering from real depression. I wasn’t actually fatigued, as evidenced by my time at the gym. Not physically anyway. I finally got a whole, honest to goodness weekend off at work and that time alone would be my undoing, or rather, my rebirth.

  Rick had occupied a larger and larger part of my thoughts as of late. I had even dared to fantasize about leaving all of this behind and returning to him but it was just a fiction. A momentary lapse of reason. But as the weekend passed, my longings finally broke through the lines and I openly admitted that Rick was right. I should have stayed. There, with him, I was happy and it wasn’t a temporary fling. Rick, as I came to discover, meant so much more to me than I could admit at the time.