How Stella Got Her Groove Back (13 page)

“Are we back to the age issue?”

“Yes. Winston, I just want you to know that I’ve never done anything like this before in my life.”

“What do you mean by ‘anything like this’?”

“Well, a few things. First of all I’ve never gone on a vacation and picked up a man that I don’t even know.”

“You haven’t picked me up, Stella.”

“You know what I’m saying.”

He is beginning to look a little offended so I decide I better clean it up because I didn’t mean that I was picking him up like some prostitute or something. “Well, you know, what I really mean is this, Winston. It’s the nineties, the age of safe sex, and folks don’t usually go jumping into bed with strangers anymore.”

“Do I feel like a stranger to you?”

“Well, no. But I just met you yesterday, Winston, and that’s what’s also kind of weird.”

“I’m more than willing to tell you anything you want to know about me. Just ask me.”

“Okay. Tell me about your parents.”

“Well, my dad’s a surgeon in Kingston and my mom’s an RN. I have two older sisters. Both are married. I grew up outside Kingston and went to private school and have done two years at the University of the West Indies in Kingston where I was studying biology but I did not like it which is why I took a course in food preparation and am considering perhaps studying hotel management or becoming a real chef I’m not sure even though my dad doesn’t want me to do either. There. So now you know everything about me.”

When I heard him say “my dad” I was tickled enough to giggle but I decided it would be in poor taste and plus I shouldn’t hold his age against him. It isn’t his fault he’s only twenty-one years old. Is it? And the fact that he thinks he has told me everything about himself is downright touching. “Well, thanks for sharing, Winston.”

He doesn’t get it. “What else did you want to tell me?” he says.

“Well, Winston, I can’t seem to remember now, which means it’s not all that important.”

A waitress appears and gives me a go-girl smirk and I look at Winston and realize that we are like out in the open and Lord what am I doing? “Do you know what kind of pesta you want?” he asks me and I spot something on the menu and point it out to our waitress and Winston says he’ll have the same thing and she takes our drink order and of course I ask for my virgin piña colada and Winston who also does not drink orders his virgin strawberry daiquiri.

“So what should I know about
you?
” he asks and leans forward on his elbows.

“I like your shirt,” I say.

He smiles. “Thank you and I’m listening. I mean I have shared my deepest secrets about my personal being with you and now I’m waiting to hear yours.”

“Well, I’ve been divorced for three years.”

“Do you presently have a boyfriend at home?”

“No.”

If I’m not mistaken he actually looks relieved and then he looks at me like he’s on his way to another level or something.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s hard to find one I like.”

“Why is it so hard? You’re quite attractive. I would think men would be swarming around you.”

“Swarming? I don’t think so, Winston. First of all, looks can only get you so far and, well, I’ll put it this way. I’m also kind of picky. Maybe too picky but I do date and may I continue, sir?”

He is smiling and nodding at me. He looks almost edible.

“I have an eleven-year-old son whose name is Quincy and whom I love dearly and he’s my best buddy.”

“That’s nice to hear,” he says.

“And I turn tricks for a living.”

“Tricks? What kind of tricks?”

“I’m just kidding,” I say. “I’m an analyst for a securities company.”

He looks confused and who can blame him? “It only sounds good but in essence my job doesn’t make a whole lot of sense and I wouldn’t be surprised if in the next few weeks computers will have taken over.”

“And what exactly does an analyst do?” he asks.

“It’s kind of hard to explain but basically when people or I should say in my case businesses and cities and universities and the like want to invest their profits to make more money I basically analyze all the different areas and avenues and give them advice on where it looks like their money’ll grow the fastest and the safest.”

“Ohhhhh,” he says, nodding his head up and down. “And do you like doing all this ana-lyzing?”

“I used to, but the thrill is gone. Been gone. It’s okay, though. It’s a living.”

“And you studied many years to learn to do this?”

“Yep. New York University. Bachelor’s and master’s.” I don’t even want to mention my M.F.A.

“Right.” He sighs as if he’s putting this all together and then he looks me in the eye and says, “Well, it seems to me that if one goes to college for so many years you’d at least end up working in some field that you derive a great deal of pleasure from. Don’t you think?”

“Of course I do, Winston, but sometimes your attitude changes, your needs and values change, as you get older, and what used to excite you doesn’t anymore.”

“So do you have this same attitude toward people when your attitude changes?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean when you get bored or someone wears out their welcome do you treat them like you would your job? Do you just kind of settle in or do you look for a new one?”

Damn. I take a deep breath. He certainly doesn’t sound or think like he’s only twenty-one. And he’s not fidgeting or acting hyper and as a matter of fact I’d say he’s more poised than I am. I’m even more surprised by what he’s saying because it means he’s measuring what he sees, he’s trying to see if all the pieces fit, and this is refreshing. “Well, I’m the type that sort of hangs in there until I’ve exhausted my resources and when I realize I’ve given it my best shot I move on. But this can sometimes take a while.”

He’s nodding his head when they bring us our pesta and salad and we both instinctively seem to want to lighten up a little bit so we simply eat tiny morsels of food and chew heartily as if we’re actually tasting it and then we lay our forks down and it’s only a few minutes after seven and it’s obvious we are both nervous but trying to pretend like this is a normal date but we know it is everything but that and maybe we should’ve stuck to seven instead of six because the disco doesn’t open until ten but what we do is basically sit outside the dining room and listen to the band. Of course that drummer is staring at me and Winston from across the dining room because I can see his beady little eyes glisten and the other one, the young guitar player as he turns out to be, is looking at me like I’m still a reincarnation of his old girlfriend but Winston and I go and sit on a chaise by the pool and listen to the waves and the music and just talk about Jamaica and America and then we go for a walk but not on the beach because those stupid sand fleas are out there and even though they are invisible they bite you in groups and particularly your ankles and especially if you’re wearing perfume they love perfume they bite you so hard you don’t feel it until moments later when you begin to scratch and then it is uncontrollable and you really could cry but you think that if you just scratch hard enough it will go away but it doesn’t and all you see is red and it is blood and so you have to rub that cream on and it doesn’t help all that much which is why Winston and I agree to walk over to Hedonism where they are having a Hunk Show Contest and we sit there in their open dining room/bar and watch twenty young men from all over the world model suits shorts and swimsuits. They are all gorgeous and buffed and I am surprised that people have their clothes on because it’s not what I was told they did over here and of course and under normal circumstances I would probably be screaming at these guys like everybody else is but they just don’t seem to have the finesse and poise and grace and beauty that Winston here has and he’s not at all an exhibitionist and he certainly could be which is why I feel like the lucky one I really do.

On the walk back he takes my hand and places it inside his and really grasps it and I am not kidding I am getting chills and goosebumps all over my arms and they seem to be running down my back as if somebody’s tickling me but then his hand becomes warmer and I seem to be squeezing it tighter and we walk back onto the grounds of the Castle Beach Negril and the band is packing up and so we go into the disco and the DJ is playing some pump-to-the-bump music and Winston and I don’t bother to sit down but head out to the crowded dance floor where we will dance for the next two hours and where I will get drunk watching how suave and smooth he moves, unlike some twenty-one-year-olds who are rather wild but not him he moves in an unrehearsed way as if he is feeling the music and it is what is dictating how he moves and he watches me swing and sway and I don’t do so bad myself I just don’t do the latest dances because I don’t care but then the DJ plays this hold-me-in-your-arms kind of song and in slow motion Winston sort of like automatically pulls me close to him and puts his arms around me and we rock in one small spot and I go ahead and put my arms around the small of his back and he is nice and narrow and I feel like I’m really starting to spin the way that girl does with John Travolta in that
Staying Alive
movie and Winston smells so good and his chest is firm and his arms are so long and they are making me feel like I’m inside something good something warm safe go ahead and relax enjoy him Stella it’s okay and his shoulders are so wide and I am looking at this hair sticking out above the V in his shirt and he smells so good and he feels so good and I hope this song lasts for at least another hour and I swear when I feel his hands squeeze my waist and he pushes me out and away from him a little bit and looks down at me and smiles and then kisses me on my forehead I feel like I’m on some kind of drug that causes euphoria because I am like floating right now but when he starts to pull me back against his chest and holds me as close as I can get but as softly as he can I finally realize that Winston is not at all a boy that he is not my toy for the night he is in fact a real man.

It is now about twelve-thirty and the dance floor is empty with the exception of me and Winston. I think we not only have enjoyed dancing together but have both been stalling because we are kind of scared. But scared or not, the place will be closing soon and we have to get out of here and besides I’m not
that
scared really I want to do this so on a Warren G song I take Winston by the hand and say, “Are you ready to go yet?” and he says, “I’ve
been
ready I just thought you wanted to dance more,” and I shake my head back and forth and we both smile and he takes my hand as we walk through the game room and out to the path that leads to my room and when we get there I open the door and walk in first and then I really feel like I’m in high school because I can’t remember what I’m supposed to do next.

My heartbeat is way over my heart rate zone and if I had my monitor on it would’ve been beeping for like the past two hours. I am not a stranger to seduction it’s just that I’m used to being the seducee and not the seducer but I can do this I can show him what to do, so after I press on Seal of course I turn to him and say, “Have a seat, Winston,” and he sort of walks over to me all tall and everything and puts his arms on my bare shoulders and bends down and says—not whispers—in my ear, “You are really beautiful,” and before I can answer I feel something warm and heavenly land on my lips but this can’t be right this can’t be oh God what is he doing he is pressing his lips against mine so softly that I am feeling like one of those velvet paintings and oh no he’s not supposed to be able to make me feel like oh God he is kissing me like he has been wanting to do this for a long time but he is not frantic he is not pressing in hard and now his lips are whispering they are just barely brushing mine and please don’t stop Winston I have been waiting a long time for a man to kiss me like this like he means it and who taught you how to wait a minute hold it stop I say in my head and push him away for a minute.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

I want to say don’t you get it? You are like kissing me like you know what you’re doing you are like kissing me like you know where my weak spots all are and your kisses are reducing them to nothing I am losing my strength but please kiss me again because you feel like what I need what’s been missing like I’ve been waiting years all my life to have your lips touch mine like this, but all I say is, “Winston, your kiss is. . .”

“What?” He looks worried and I realize I am overreacting.

“I didn’t expect this.”

“What?”

“For you to be such a good kisser.”

“You’re the good kisser.”

“No. You’re the good kisser and it’s making me weak. I wish I could but I can’t lie about it. Look at me,” I say and I feel like he must surely be able to see steam coming from my entire body or at least he can see how I’m disintegrating into a vapor.

“Feel my heart,” he says and places my hand over it and sure enough it’s pounding away. “It feels you,” he says.

“I want you to take advantage of me,” I hear myself say.

And he looks at me as if to say you’ve got this all wrong it is not about taking advantage of you and then he kisses me again and I am turning into mush inside and I haven’t felt this in a gazillion years since maybe college and I feel like I could cry because I’ve been waiting to feel this magic I’ve forgotten how the magic feels and I’ve been waiting for him I have read about the power of a kiss but when he puts his tongue in my mouth he is not frantic he is slow-dancing with mine he is sending me a message and I’m getting it he is telling me a story and I am loving every word and when he holds me tighter he is telling me he wants to be closer can I get closer and so I wrap my tongue around his as if I’m trying to protect it from something and I move in deeper and I want him to know that it is not just the kiss that is moving me it is you the kisser the man behind the kiss and I have no choice I shift my shoulder blade under his armpit so as to feel like we are inside each other but he already knows that I can’t get close enough to him and because he is helping me find a position where we will be able to blend once and for all and because it is impossible in what feels like slow motion we begin to search explore chins ears elbows eyebrows arms fingertips wrists but always back to our lips where something passes from him to me and me to him and we are spinning now and my lips feel like a hot peach between my legs feels like a hot peach and Winston please don’t stop because I don’t care that it’s a cliché but I feel like a butterfly and I don’t want you to stop making me flutter but he kisses me on my cheek and I kiss him on his cheek and he rubs his cheekbone against my cheekbone and he says, “Are you okay?” and it is difficult for me to answer that question because I am trembling now I mean really trembling and I can only nod and he says, “Are you sure?” and I say something stupid like, “Isn’t it hot in here to you?” and he takes those hands and brushes over my braids and holds me again until like three more Seal songs play and I swear I’m about ready to cry for real and if I knew him better I would and when I feel him unzip my dress I am scared but he does it so delicately so gently that I don’t even realize I’m standing there in my strapless bra and no panties and he holds me to him again and rubs his hands up and down the back of my body and he says, “You certainly don’t feel like I’d expect any forty-two-year-old woman to feel,” and I say, “But I am,” and he steps back and looks at me and I feel like Cinda-fucking-rella and he says, “And you don’t look like any forty-two-year-old woman I’ve ever seen,” and I say, “But I am,” and he says, “Well, you feel better than any twenty-year-old girl,” and I say, “But I’m not,” and he says, “I know and I’m glad and you are so sweet and so lovely and Stella if we just stand here for a while would that be okay with you because I love the way you feel like this and I just really want to take you in,” and I am really slipping away here by the second but I say in a little tiny voice, “Okay,” and he holds me even closer so that I feel a heartbeat in his belly I can feel the hair on his belly brush against sink into my belly if that’s possible until somehow it is minutes or it could be hours later and we are lying next to each other on the bed and somehow we have gotten his clothes off and he is kissing my nose and shoulders and he is still moving so very slowly and I’m so very glad that he’s not rushing and if I’m not mistaken it feels as if he knows exactly what he’s oh my God those lips are on my breasts oh God he’s kissing them the right way and somebody please help me where did he come from please don’t stop and oh please do stop before I scream but now his mouth is back against mine and I hear him unwrap his condom and he whispers in my ear, “Is it okay now?” and I’m thinking he is so polite he is certainly a considerate one and my answer is a light kiss and when he finds his way in he helps me glide and he guides me to his beat which is so slow and undulating and I feel him hold on to me until we are moving like those waves outside the balcony and I am lost at sea until I feel him squeeze me as if I’m falling overboard and he whispers, “Oh Stel-la,” in my ear and I find myself succumbing surrendering to him and I say, “Win-ston, what are you doing to me?” and he sighs and whispers, “Oh Stel-la, why are you doing this to
me?
” and I say, “What?” and he moans, “Stel-la,” and I am feeling like hot foam and I moan and sigh, “Win-ston,” and we both squeeze each other as if we have been looking for each other for a long time and when we rest our heads against each other’s wet skin the only thing I think we understand is that this is where we’ve always wanted to be and now we are here.