Life Is A Foreign Language (29 page)

“’Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today, and give us not to think so far away …’ he cited. From behind his back he presented a large buquet of yellow roses. “For you, for being so brave.”

Nina took the flowers and brought them to her face to inhale their perfume. “Michael, darling. Thank you. Did you know this is my favorite rose?”

“No, but the name is appropriate … Peace.”

She smiled into his eyes. “What was that lovely verse you cited?”

“That? It’s ‘A Prayer in Spring,’ by Robert Frost.”

Her eyes grew misty from tears she didn’t try to hide. She set the flowers on the table and held him in her arms, her body close to his, leaving tears on his cheek. “Thank you, darling. You always seem to know the right thing to say.” She kissed him, moving her lips back and forth against his, tickling the corners of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, excitement building.

“Oh, my Nina, the things you do. Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

Laughing low in her throat, she pressed the length of her body against his, closer still. “I hope so.”

His hands caressed her bare arms, her back. Twining the fingers of one hand in her thick mane of hair, the other stole to the buttons of her dress, undoing them. He moved his moist lips against her throat, down her chest until they found her breast. On shaky legs she moved back, and taking his hand she led him into her bedroom, leaving clothes in their wake.

When they were through working their magic on each other, the sun had set, the room was dark. She turned on the table lamp and picked the comforter off the floor to spread it over them. Leaning on one elbow, she looked at his face on the pillow. She caressed him with the tips of her fingers, lingering over his brow, the closed lids and the dusky half-moons under his eyes, lips a bit bruised from her mouth.

“I love you, Michael. I’m sorry I ran away.”

“It’s behind us now. Let’s forget it.”

She snuggled close, her head on his shoulder, his arms around her. At this moment, secure and feeling loved, she was at a loss to understand how she could possibly doubt him or his intentions.

“Did you like Oren?” he asked.

“Very much. I felt at ease with him the minute I saw him.” She chuckled. “Doesn’t he look like Yogi Bear?”

Michael hooted with laughter.

“Hey, that wasn’t so funny. Calm down.”

He chortled. “It’s very funny. I didn’t make the connection, but you’re right; the similarity is there.”

“I saw him again yesterday. I was so distraught and unhappy about you and me, I had to talk to him.”

“I bet you felt better for it. It’s no good keeping things to ourselves. They only fester and pollute.”

“I used to tell my clients the same thing.”

Reaching for her purse on the bedside table, she took out the card Oren gave her. She held it for Michael to see. “Do you have one of these?”

He took the card, studied the front, opened it and read the inscription out loud: “’Fear knocked at the door. Faith answered; no one was there.’ Never seen one like this. Oren gave it to you, I suppose?”

“Yes. He said to meditate on this thought.”

“Then you should follow his instructions.”

Nina sat, pushed fingers through her hair, left the bed and stretched.

Michael lay on his back, arms crossed under his head, following her every move. When she grabbed a long-sleeved housecoat off the hook inside the closet, he rose on one elbow.

“What are you doing? Do you want me to get up, too?”

“I left the roses on the table. I need to put them in water. Have you had dinner? I’m starving.”

“I could eat. Something light and delicious.”

“Stay right where you are. I’ll see what I can scramble together.”

Nina filled a tall, wide-mouthed vase with water and arranged the roses in it. The result was rich and generous, the flowers glowing like suns.

In the kitchen she splurged by opening a glass jar of goose liver she’d brought with her from France. From the fridge, she took a bottle of white wine, uncorked it, and left it on the counter to breathe. She made a small tossed salad and toasted bread. Putting everything on a large tray with plates, silverware and glasses, she took it to the bedroom.

Michael was half-asleep. When she set the tray on the edge of the bed, he sat and leaned his back against the headboard softened by pillows.

“Hey, what’s this? Looks like a real feast.”

“This is a picnic in bed, darling. We’re both hungry and too lazy to eat at the table. This will do nicely, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. You’re a magician, my Nina.”

She poured a little wine in a stem glass. Taking the glass, she swirled it around before bringing it to her nose to inhale the bouquet. “Just the right balance.” She held out the glass for Michael to breathe in. After one whiff, he grabbed her wrist and brought the glass under his nose again.

“The aroma is of fruit and … and something I can smell, but not quite put a name to. What is it?”

She gave him the glass. “Here, taste it, then you tell me.”

He inhaled once more, then took a sip, swirling it around in his mouth, eyes half-closed, the better to identify the ingredients. He swallowed, letting the aftertaste linger. “It’s fruity, sweet, but not too sweet. And … hmm, yes, I know that I smell; it’s honey.”

“Good, Michael. Right on.” She glanced at him, surprised. “Who taught you to taste and recognize wine?”

“Sophie.”

“Obviously. She’s a real expert.”

Nina wished the privilege of initiating him to the art of wine had been left to her. She would have loved to teach him. But there was no use getting resentful—there would always be areas in his past that she couldn’t share, that echoed in today, just as he was her present moment with no part in her yesterdays.

They placed the tray beside them on the bed, and Nina sat facing him, the comforter pulled up to her waist, one foot caressing the soft skin on the inside of his thigh. She took great pleasure in watching him enjoy the meal; the way he sipped his wine, speared a piece of toast on his fork to wipe the last of the salad dressing on his plate.

He dabbed his mouth with the napkin, folded it and placed it on the tray next to his plate. “That was delectable. I feel like a cigarette, but it’s a pity to ruin the good taste in my mouth.”

Nina got off the bed and was about to pick up the tray when he grabbed her hand. “Will you chase me away or may I stay the night?”

“You don’t have to ask. Please stay.” The wave of joy washed over her. She rummaged in the drawer of her bedside table and found what she was looking for. “Here. This is the key to my house. I don’t like closed doors between us.”

As he pulled her to him, she lost her balance and fell against his chest. Holding her face between his hands, he planted small kisses all over—her cheeks, the little hollow at her throat, her eyes. He held her in a strong embrace, kissing her, his tongue caressing hers. When he took away his mouth she was breathless, slightly dizzy from wine and passion.

“You may not believe this,” Michael said, “but I had exactly the same idea. I have the key to my house for you, too. It’s in the pocket of my jeans.” He stood and took the couple of strides to the recliner where Nina had placed their scattered garments.

Looking at him, she delighted in his natural ease, even when completely naked. He stood in half profile to her, and she admired everything she saw—all of him. And she thought how beautiful he was.

“Here.” He turned and held out his hand with a key between thumb and forefinger. Seeing her gaze at him, the look in her eyes, he tossed the key on the bed, came closer and, taking her hands, he pulled her to her feet.

“Take off your robe, Nina.” And he helped her by lowering the zipper, inch by slow inch. She dropped her arms to her sides, letting the garment slide off her shoulders. It fell to the floor, and she stood nude in front of him.

And he looked at her, not touching her, but loving her with his eyes. Her face and throat. They lingered a long moment on her breasts that felt heavy from desire, the tips growing taut under his look. His gaze wandered down her belly, to her hips bracketing the patch of golden curls, to her thighs. She averted her head, embarrassed at their fleshiness and the dimples of cellulite.

“Don’t turn away, Nina. Look at me.”

She did, and his eyes continued their voyage over her body.

“We’ve slept together, we’ve made love, I’ve seen you naked, but now I want to feast my eyes on you.” He took a step closer while he continued to take in every plane and angle, mound and valley.

Her skin burned where his look touched and lingered. Desire rose from the pit of her stomach, her thighs quivered; she was faint from wanting him.

His chest rose with an intake of breath. “You are lovely.” He closed the short distance between them, arms at his sides, and stood so near their bodies touched. “I love you. You’re magnificent. I love you, all of you.”

She moved closer, pressing her body to his, all shyness gone. “And you are beautiful. I love you. I will always love you.”

Chapter 34
 

Nina woke and stretched, enjoying the privilege to wake up in a house filled with the honey-yellow sunlight streaming in. Energized, despite the few hours’ sleep, she whistled out of tune while she made the bed and tidied up. In the bathroom she cried out from a burning sensation when she tried to pee. She badly needed to, but couldn’t. Only a few drops trickled out, and the pain was so fierce, it brought tears to her eyes.
What on earth is this? What’s wrong with me?
She hurriedly brushed her teeth and stood under the shower a few minutes. Then she went to look for Michael and found him having breakfast on the lanai. Nina glanced at the table. Seeing the spread of breads and jam and fruit, coffee and a pitcher of fruit juice she shuddered. She couldn’t eat a thing.

He looked at her as she sat opposite him by the table. “What?”

Surprised, her eyes met his.

He hung his head, pretending hurt feelings, but couldn’t hide the smile on his lips. “Are you angry with me for something? Or am I already relegated to the old shoe status since you’re so far away from me? And not even a good morning kiss?”

She stood and leaned across the table to buzz his cheek.

He caught her wrist. “What is it? You look so serious.”

Embarrassed and self-conscious she sat, gazing at a point above his head. “Oh Michael, it’s very annoying, and I feel such a fool. You have to help me.”

“Sure. What’s wrong?”

She felt a blush cover her throat and face. “I have this irritation and discomfort.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetie. Where do you have this irritation?”

“It’s very painful when I try to pee. It burns and itches all the time. I need some medication right away, but I don’t know any doctors here.” She said all this on a single breath. Too embarrassed to look at him she kept her eyes averted.

Michael came to sit next to her and turned her by the shoulders to face him. “Poor sweetheart.” She didn’t detect pity in his voice, but he certainly was amused. “Sounds like you have cystitis. What a nuisance.” He didn’t look worried. “This kind of thing often happens after sex, particularly, if you’ve gone without for some time. Unpleasant as blazes, but nothing to worry about; it’s treatable.”

She whined and disliked herself for it. “What am I going to do?”

“Nothing for the moment. I’ll call a colleague of mine, a gynecologist. He’ll run some tests and prescribe medication for you.”

“Darling, it would take forever. I can’t stand this for long. It’s painful, and I’m such a wimp.”

“No, you’re not. Do you have a fever?” With the back of his hand he felt her forehead, then shook his head. “You’re not warm. Let’s see now, I usually don’t prescribe for family and friends, but I’ll make an exception and write a prescription for you. How’s that?”

“Wonderful. Thanks.”

What a relief! She thought she’d have to go doctor hunting to get medication. Nina had a low threshold for pain, and this discomfort was unbearable. Michael said she didn’t have a temperature, but she shivered, feeling feverish.

Michael finished his coffee, placed the napkin next to the cup and left to get a prescription pad from his car, returning a few minutes later. He sat again and wrote something on the pad, tore off the sheet and handed it to her. As she reached to take the paper he grabbed her wrist and grinned. “There’s a lesson to be learned from this, my Nina.”

“There is? What’s that?”

“You’ve got to use it or lose it.”

She made a face. “Please, darling, no jokes. Not right now.”

“All right. Have the prescription filled. You’ll get some caplets and a liquid for a sit bath.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s only seven-thirty. Do you know where to go this early?”

“I think the pharmacy at Walgreens is open twenty-four/seven.”

“You’re right. When you get back, take the medication, drink lots of fluids, use the liquid and go to bed for an hour or two.” He stood. “I have to rush, my first patient is at eight.”

Together they sauntered to his car, arms around each other.

“I’ll call around noon to see how you are.” When he planted a light kiss on her lips she shivered from the chills of her condition and Michael’s nearness.

Before he switched on the engine Nina asked, “Is it contagious? Can’t we make love now?”

He held her hand against his cheek. “No, we can’t, at least not before I get back tonight.”

She faked a smile.

“I’ll stop ribbing you.”

“Yes, you do that.”

“Take care,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

And he was off. Nina returned to the lanai, cleared the table, grabbed her purse and got behind the wheel. She made the trip to Walgreens in record time. This early, the traffic was easy, and all the lights cooperated. At the pharmacy she was in luck; she was the only customer, so the pharmacist filled her prescription right away. She was relieved and grateful that Walgreens stayed open around the clock.
Thank the sky for Walgreens; in France I would have to wait and suffer.

At home again, she carefully read the instructions of use for the caplets, swallowed what was prescribed, drank a full tumbler of water and some grapefruit juice. Michael said to take lots of liquids, so she obeyed. She had an almost obsessive revulsion of being ill. She took good care of her body, and expected it to behave, not betray her by being unwell.