Cabo San Lucas

Maybe it's a mom like me, here with her boy. They've lotioned one another, danced to Moon River, rode the bus, and tomorrow she'll bring him to this very place for the sunset. I let the blanket slip enough for her to know with certainty.

My climax was like a wave the color of sunset.

***

Jeanie was at the kitchen table when we returned. "When I came back, you were already under your blanket, so I just came on up."

"Super sunset," how she ended it/

In bed, I needed time to process. Curtis and I had had sex. No question about it. Pretty good sex, actually. I should have said no, but it wasn't as if there'd been discussion. When you spread out your beach blanket, you know you're going to be doing some touching, and by the end, you're doing it in a way you'd not seen coming.

Maybe it's even more against the law than back home, and whoever was watching turned me in and I'd be brought in for questioning, and that professor woman will swoop up Curtis and El Capitan will have me show him to our sunset spot and the woman will bring Curtis to hers. The places being close together, I'll watch him do to her what he's watching the officer do to me.

If they don't nab us, though, we'll just pretend it never happened.

SUNDAY

Next morning, Jeanie said she'd more shopping to do. "Be gone at least an hour. Anything onyx, Mom?"

"We're pretty much packed," I told Curtis as I lowered the blinds. "Might as well stretch out."

I closed my eyes and could hear the clicks of his zipper and feel the dip of the mattress as he joined me. Not until he was in me did I roll him under and straight-arm him down. You want your boy to look up to you, both figuratively and literally.

A bed-shaker, for sure, but condos tend to have well-constructed beds. I suppose it's common for the maid to see stains. Ours knew we were a mom and kids, but maybe it's still common.

When Jeanie banged on the door, we'd barely time to pull on pants and shirts, underwear for later.

"Got you a little something, Señor Mexico," our shopper reported. "Mucho cheaper than back home," probably catching me whisk of my panties from the floor and into my pocket. She handed her brother a box.

"Legal?" I intervened, remembering the switchblade.

"Recommended, actually."

I turned toward Curtis. "Did you ditch that knife?"

"I was just going to."

"Now."

In the terminal we passed the woman from Mississippi, melanoma-primed, spaghetti straps, peroxide, eyeliner, older than me, her carry-on weighed with Kahlua. And alone.

She and her paramedic probably did it on her balcony, dined on lobster, did it in the shower, called room service, did it again in bed, dozed off, did it as a wake-up, and breakfasted on pineapple.

Next time she'll maybe meet a CPA from Boston or maybe even a real movie director. She'll probably meet a policeman with an organ of marble.

Her male students probably stop by her office to re-enact movie scenes, not knowing that she's recording her next video, one camera above, another on her bookcase.

But she'd not scored on a vacationing boy yet to go to college who'd given her a lift on his rented motorbike. Ha!

Most vacationers probably have sex a million times down here. I'd only done it last night and this morning, but I was the lucky one. I wasn't going home alone.

On the plane, Jeanie seated her brother between us so we'd each have a shoulder to lean on and hooked her arm under his. "You're incurable, but we don't care."

I concurred, hooking his other.

"You two are so impossible," he complained, his elbows taking the bait.

We pulled the cabin blankets over us and watched an in-flight movie about a mother and her kids who homestead on the Great Plains. The woman and her son get caught in a snowstorm, but there's some hay in the back of the wagon, so they don't have to sleep on the floorboards. The scene ends with her pulling a patchwork quilt over them. The wagon rocks in the moonlight. Come morning, it's sunny again.

HOME

None of us got much unpacked before we headed for bed, Curtis joining me in mine, Jeanie's purchase in hand, "De Latex Natural."

Jeanie was up first, stirring a pitcher of powdered milk, how you do cereal the morning after a vacation. "Morning, Mamacita," with a kiss. "Nice being in your own bed, right?"

When Curtis stumbled out behind me, it was, "Ola, Señor. Mexico," giving him a kiss as well. "¿Te acordaste de usarlo?"

"What?"

"Did you remember to put it on?"

Curtis gave her a grin. "Sí, Señorita."

Jeanie turned to me, "My hat's maybe in your bag," and before I could offer to see, headed into my room. The spent rubber was off the floor and in the wastebasket when I went back.

***

I think the conception was under the beach blanket, but it could have been the following morning, though they say that being on top decreases the odds.

My Lamaze coach said that Jeanie could help with my counting, and the obstetrician saw no problem with Curtis attending delivery. She sees all kinds of relationships, I'd think.

My girlfriends of course calendared backward. To their "a Latin lover," I just flutter my eyes. They brought a "Future Cornhusker" jersey, size 0, to the hospital. "Looks just like his brother," but didn't press the point.

***

The twins call him "Briancito," but it's all in fun, as he's already my tallest. I feel a little ancient as a football mom, but they need our support. Brian is an end, which means that he catches the ball. It's interesting learning about first downs and everything.

Jeanie lives in Lincoln where she works on corporate mission something. Creighton MBA, by the way. Weekends when she's free, though, she takes baby brother salsa dancing. She bought him one of those slinky shirts. When she picks him up, she gives him a kiss that leaves lipstick. "¿Qué es esta noche, mi hermanito?"

"Noche de amor, hermanita," the fruit of Spanish 2.

She'll stay overnight and I'll hear them come in late and head upstairs. She's still got her room, but I don't bother to take my sewing projects off her bed. The first time I heard his bed squeaking was after they won a competition, but I know they'd practiced on the couch.

Jeanie's taught me a few steps in case I meet my handsome Latino. She'll lend me her special dress, she offers, wiggling her behind.

Curtis lives in Omaha, works with satellites. Pretty major, what his team's done with bandwidth, he says. He gave me an article with his name in it which I show to my girlfriends. We all agree it's very major.

When Curtis won his award, he invited me to the conference. Having the same last name, the Marriott thought we were married and gave us a king-size bed. As breakfast wasn't covered, we bought bagels, made coffee in the little pot, and used our bed until it was time for his session.

My girlfriends like Curtis a lot. If he's in town and their computer needs checking, he'll go over and take care of it. It can sometimes take most of an afternoon.

***

The twins bought a timeshare in Cabo. Jeanie says it's an investment, but we know we'll never sell. Two bedrooms. Hearing the other two gets Curtis and me going. Their hearing us works the same. The surf on the beach, the thumping on the mattresses, the murmur of the breeze, the squeaking of our bed frames. Cabo.

Like we play golf back home? Hardly. But it's fun in Cabo. Curtis yells, "Quatro," when he tees off. "Señora Sites taught me that," to get his twin's goat and she sinks her putt to get even. I get to drive the cart.

Frisbee, I'm pretty good at if the catcher's not far.

Jeanie selected my swimwear. I still stay on my stomach, but play along when one of the boys lotions me. We still pay the girl to use the beach shower, as she knows to keep the others out.

Curtis bought a "Snorkeling Baja." Longnose butterflyfish? Check. Zebrafish? Got 'em. Sharks? Let's hope not.

Jeanie got me the "De Aquí a la Eternidad" video to help with my Spanish. It was in the 50s, so they'd airbrushed it. According to my girlfriends, though, hit the pause button and look closely.

The Tortuga's changed its name, but it's still the same. Jeanie and I order the fancy drinks.

We hardly ever miss the sunset. Curtis and I take our spot and Brian and Jeanie set up where the woman from Mississippi used to be. It's best we remain in sight, though, as there might be desperados.

The kids who ply beach have us figured out, but as long as we buy a few made-in-China what-have-yous, they're not going to report us. Actually, the police likely know, but our condo company makes a generous donation to their welfare fund.

As I tug up our blanket, Curtis explains about black holes and such. As the sun goes, we do what we came to do, Jeanie and Brian on their blanket, Curtis on I on ours. We try not to watch each other, but of course we do.

Jeanie bought me another oldie, "Beach Blanket Bingo," which Curtis says that's why the Russians beat us into orbit. Jeanie and I love it when Frankie says, "A kiss is worth more than a thousand words," and Annette answers, "Then why don't you stop talking?"

The boys load up on packages that hardly take any space in his suitcase. "Muy cheapo."

Once we passed a couple in the airport, my age. The way the woman stared at us, I knew she'd watched us at sunset and now sees we're a mom and her kids. Probably wishes she wasn't saddled by a hubby who wears Speedos and sports a gold chain.