Joanne in Sand

I chuckled. "Cruise the resort?"

"I know. He's eighty-one and still chasing women. At twenty-six, I'm his chaperone."

"Sounds like he's quite a guy."

"I hope I have that much energy when I'm his age."

"How about you? What brought you to the Dominican Republic?" His head was cocked to the side as he asked.

Before long, everyone at the resort would know my tale of woe. I looked at Tim, at the glasses and the curly hair, but most of all at his eyes and face. Ugh, I knew I'd tell him. The usual deep breath kicked things off.

As I told Tim why I was there, the expression on his face changed so drastically I was looking to see if he had tears in his eyes.

"You are," he began, his cheeks reddening, "and I'm not good at this, but you are gorgeous, and helping the kids says you're a good person. How could someone just walk away from you?"

It had been an emotional few days, and although I was functioning and, I guess, appeared to be okay, I wasn't. Far from it. And now, the double dose had me near tears.

"Sorry."

"For telling me I'm gorgeous and that I don't deserve to be treated that way?"

"No, for putting tears in your eyes."

"Tim, I've had tears in my eyes most of the time since I got that call. It's just nice to have someone feel the same way I do."

"Are you sure?"

He looked at the pile of sand once again.

"Tomorrow then? And I'm Tim."

"Joanne, but you can drop the Anne."

"Jo, where are you from"?

"Ohio, and I'm surprised how many people here are from the US. Or at least sound like they are."

"Some Canadians, too, but this place caters to that group. Probably half of the people here are from the US and Canada."

"I didn't know that."

Tim took a couple of steps toward the ocean, looking uncertain, then turned toward me.

"What, um, what's on your schedule for...now and today."

I glanced at my chair. "Getting some sun and reading, I guess."

Tim pointed skyward. "I don't think you're going to get much more sun, but if you stay in your chair, mother nature will provide a shower for you, which we actually want for the sand."

"I don't need that, for sure. Let me gather up my stuff."

"I'll help...if you'll have lunch with me."

I quickly looked at Tim, and the hopeful but innocent look on his face said something to me. It had been just a few days, but he looked, well, trustworthy, particularly when he'd push his glasses up on his nose.

"Okay, but only if I can change clothes." I'd done what Les wanted, wearing the bikini, but I knew I'd be more comfortable in something that left a little more to the imagination.

He smiled, reset his glasses, and started toward the chair. I joined him, donned my coverup, and grabbed the Kindle. Tim took the backpack, and we headed for my building. Halfway there, the shower Tim had mentioned began in earnest. Our casual walk changed into a frenzied trot. At the building, we opened the glass door that provided a clear reflection of myself. It was not a picture I was anxious to see.

My hair was plastered to my head, the coverup to my body. Small rivulets of water were making their way down every square inch of exposed skin. Plus, I was panting from the run, which was doing interesting things with the bikini and my boobs. Of course, Tim could see it all, but he didn't react.

"I'll just wait downstairs," he said, glancing into the lobby area.

I thought for just a moment. "Don't be silly. Come up with me. I have lots of towels, and you can dry off a little."

Despite still breathing hard, we decided to take the stairs to the third floor, not wanting to wet down the elevator.

"You go ahead," I said.

"No, you go..."

With red cheeks, the very perceptive Tim stepped around me and moved quickly up the steps. At the third floor, he stepped aside and followed me to my room.

"Wow, this is nicer than our place," he said, looking around. "Do you get this fruit every day?"

"I guess. I haven't been here long enough to find out. But the thing I ate yesterday has been replaced. And there's wine too." I retrieved a big fluffy towel from the bathroom, tossed it to Tim, and closed the bedroom door. I wasn't going to take the time to use a hair dryer or take the shower that would be nicely refreshing. I toweled my hair, brushed it, and created a soggy ponytail. Some shorts, a tank top, and I was ready.

Tim was sitting on the tile floor in the kitchen area, straightening the shirt he'd obviously wrung out in the sink. He gave me a nice smile, then a hopeless look.

"Will you be embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"I hope you're kidding."

That brought another smile, and we were off to lunch. Walking along with Tim reminded me that I had expected to be doing it with Tyson. A melancholy feeling began to overwhelm me until I suddenly realized that I was far better off than I would have been. Tim, who I barely knew, was better for me today than Tyson ever could be.

As we were seated for lunch, my cell phone rang. Les calling.

"This better be important because I'm ready to order lunch."

"Not sure if it is or not. I'm with your dad, and it's a letter addressed to you with Tyson's return address."

"Just throw it away."

"Don't you think you should find out what it is?"

"Not something from him."

"It's not a letter. It's very thin, like a single sheet of something."

"If I tell you to throw it away, you'll open it and then throw it away,"

"Joanne, shame on you. I'm going to open it."

I could hear paper tearing, then silence.

"Holy shit," Les said softly.

"Bad?" I asked cautiously.

"Jo, it's a check for fifteen thousand dollars."

"What? Is that right?"

"It sure is. I've checked the number three times."

Something dawned on me. "He said he'd send money to pay for stuff. What should I do with it?" I was in a fog.

"I'm going to run to the restroom," Tim said, leaving quickly.

"Well, you have four bride's maids who paid for their dresses and accessories."

"And a mail of honor," I added.

"There'll probably be cancellation charges from other things too."

"I'll bet his father has no idea and would be really pissed if he knew Tyson had sent that check."

"Yep, I think so. It'll give you something to do when you get back."

"I'll need something."

"How's it going there? Anything exciting?"

I watched Tim heading back toward the table. "Nope, but if there is, I'll let you know. It's beautiful here, and my suite is amazing."

"That's great. Keep me posted."

"Bye-bye, now."

Tim sat down, the usual smile on his face.

"You didn't need to leave."

"I thought you might like to have a little privacy. Sounded like a personal matter."

"A little, yeah, but it's taken care of now."

The look on his face told me he was about to say something unpleasant. Unpleasant in what way?

"Jo, I hate to do this, for myself at least, but I need to go and check up on Grandpa. He likes to roam and be by himself, but I'm here to kind of watch him, so..."

"Listen, I've enjoyed being with you, and I'm looking forward to learning about sand castles from an expert, but I don't need to keep you if you have things to do."

He stood. "Can't wait till tomorrow. You take care now."

"You too," I answered and watched his eyes linger on my face. It was flattering to see and even feel, but I didn't need that right this moment.

He walked away, glancing back at me and waving.

A glance at the window confirmed it was still raining, good for our sand pile but bad for reading on the beach. Back to my room was my choice, although there were shops I could visit. I made my way back to my building using overhangs and covered walkways to stay dry.

I settled into the very comfortable recliner, switched on the Kindle, and settled back to read. The room was perfectly quiet, the temperature ideal, and the whole situation as cozy as possible. Why was I having trouble concentrating on what I was reading?

I dropped the Kindle on my lap and stared out the window, the ocean a fuzzy blue through the moderately heavy rain. When I concentrated, I could make out its sound that I had missed before, probably on the roof above me. At home, I loved to sit on the porch and listen to the rain.

At home.

Home was seventeen-hundred miles away, and I was in a foreign country where I didn't know anyone...except Tim, and I really didn't know him. Maybe Lonny, too. And this was supposed to be the happiest time of my life.

The tears began.

I was lonely. I think the short time I'd spent with Tim emphasized how alone I was. Maybe I should call Les. Or Dad. He knows what lonely is after being without my mom for two years.

The tears didn't last long. After all, I was twenty-five years old and should be able to handle the crap life throws at me. Les said that all that had happened would hit me full force one day, and it would be uphill after that. I hoped today was that day, but I doubted it.

I'd never had the hollow feeling I was experiencing now. I was even wishing that Tim could be here and realized how desperate I was. I wanted to be here and married to Tyson...except that's the last thing I wanted now.

I stood and paced, gazing out each window in turn, hoping the waves and the ocean would calm me. Something was, but sitting and reading didn't seem very attractive. Maybe shopping would help.

I was dressed, so I hurried downstairs, anxious to get started. Of course, it was still raining.

"¿Puedo ayudarla, señora?" a voice behind me said.

A tall man dressed in all white was smiling at me.

"I'm sorry, I don't..."

"Ah, Inglesa. May I help you?"

"I wanted to go shopping, but it's still raining."

When I looked back, he was returning with two umbrellas.

"That's perfect," I said, reaching for an umbrella.

He smiled. "I'll walk you there, señorita, and leave an umbrella for you."

"You don't need to..." But I guess he did as he was ushering me out the door and raising the umbrella. He led me to another building, handed me the umbrella, and opened the other one.

"Good luck with your shopping, señorita." He turned and was quickly gone.

I shook the umbrella and closed it, putting it into a rack by the door.

Of course, there were many racks of bikinis, which made me grin. I'd had to crank up my courage to wear the one I'd brought with me, but maybe I could get another with a little more material. A pretty blue one was my first purchase.

I'd debated about spending money, but the check from Tyson made the decision for me. Some shorts, a couple of blouses, and a pair of sandals completed my buying for the day.

Back at my building, a smile greeted me, and the umbrella was taken from me. Upstairs, I laid my purchases on the bed. Somehow, the blue bikini kept drawing my attention. I decided to try it on. I'd purchased it without trying it on, being told I could return it if there was a problem.

I stripped, ready to try on the bikini, but instead looked at myself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. I didn't do that often as I didn't think I was anything special.

I was just five-foot-three but wore a C-cup bra, and Les always told me that was good, whatever good meant. I had to chuckle. I was naked, and if I wanted, I could go down the back stairway, out into the rain, and run to the beach naked, and no one would see me as everyone was staying inside. I only saw two people out when I went to the shops. A naked swim in the ocean, but if I did it, who would believe me?

I checked the mirror and thought I saw scarlet cheeks just from thinking about that. Even though I was far from home where no one knew me, it wasn't going to happen.

I tried on the blue bikini, and it looked good. I looked good. Tyson, look what you missed, I thought. And that thought seemed to bring me back to earth and to being Joanne again.

But skinny dipping in the ocean was something I'd keep in mind, and if the situation presented itself...

I think Tyson was making me crazy, and he wasn't even here. Could he be gaslighting me remotely?

Maybe I just needed to settle back in the recliner and read. I actually did that for a while, the sound of the rain causing me to doze for I don't know how long. But it was time for dinner, and I was mildly hungry.

The rain had finally stopped, but there were still dark clouds overhead. I hurried to a building where the restaurant with American food was housed. Maybe something familiar would help. I'd checked at the desk and found I had nearly three thousand dollars left in my miscellaneous account. I'd forgotten about that when I'd gone shopping and used my credit card. What I didn't know was whether what was left would be given to me or would be returned to Tyson.

If I spent it all, it wouldn't matter. I stopped outside the restaurant and used the calculator on the phone. A little division told me that I had about two hundred fifty dollars a day to spend. I wasn't sure I could do that, but I didn't want the money to go to Tyson. I must be at the anger/bitterness stage of what was happening and my recovery.

I ordered a steak, medium, steak fries, and spinach. I like spinach, and the server seemed surprised to hear me order it. Everything was good if a delicious dinner by yourself can be good.

I was back in my room, settled in for an evening of reading and maybe some TV. I was anticipating tomorrow with Tim and the two little ones and building the sand castle. When I turned on my phone to text Les, it was still on the calculator, which gave me an idea. If I needed to spend money, maybe I could get rid of a little of it at one of the bars. I think there were several around.

Shorts and the tank top seemed appropriate. Or maybe I should wear slacks and a shirt so I'd show less skin. The last thing I wanted was to have a man ogling me.

I changed and left the room.

I checked with the concierge, who was happy to recommend a night spot for me. A five-minute walk, and I was there. There were lots of people, mostly groups and couples, but lots of laughter and chatter made it kind of appealing.

I sat at a table close to one of the groups, hoping that I might be a part of the group...without being part of the group. I ordered wine, not wanting to be too adventurous, and sipped it, taking in what people were saying. It wasn't personal information, so I didn't feel bad listening in.

I was halfway through my second glass when one of the older ladies in the group turned toward me.

"Dear, are you here by yourself?"

No use denying it. "Yes, I am."

"Well, pull your chair over here and join us," she said, clearing room for me at their table.

"I don't want to interpret," I said, mostly a formality since joining them seemed like it might be fun.

The lady just motioned for me to come on over, so I did, thanking them profusely.

Turns out it was a father and mother and their four children, two of whom had mates, one had a girlfriend, and the fourth was by himself. Of course, I was sitting beside the single male, which I hoped wouldn't become awkward. They introduced themselves as the Kennedy family, Guy being the, well, guy sitting next to me.

"And I'm Joanne Kilbride."

"Irish all around--name, red hair, and freckles," someone called out.

I was enjoying being with the Kennedys, and Guy was very soft-spoken and almost shy. A couple of times, he whispered an explanation of the subject being discussed. I think he noticed that my glass was empty.

"Would you like a Mai Tai cocktail?" he whispered.

"Don't know what it is," I whispered back, our faces way too close together. I was still on the very wary side of things.

"Um, it just tastes good."

I giggled, a sign I should have recognized but obviously didn't.

"Okay, and are you having one?"

He hesitated.

"Put it on my bill," I insisted.

We argued quietly until he agreed, and I signed with my room number.

The two drinks arrived, and we each took a sip. It didn't taste like anything I'd ever had before. The second sip showed me it was more than lime juice, and I felt a small burning sensation as I swallowed. I felt more relaxed than I had since Tyson's call.

Not sipping now, it wasn't long before my glass was empty, and I was having a lot of difficulty focusing my eyes. I remember Guy asking me about my room, and I dug the key from my pocket. There was a man on each side of me, too, as I made my way back to my building and to my room. One of them unlocked the door and helped me get inside.

"Will you be okay now?" Guy asked, sounding concerned.

"Oh yeah, I'm good," I said, not good at all.

The situation was more than a little awkward--I recognized that even in my inebriated condition. I just wanted them to leave.

They helped me to the couch and left. I somehow got to the bedroom, stripped, and climbed into bed. I giggled to myself at the thought of sleeping naked.

*****

The "building a sand castle" morning arrived, and I felt miserable. I hoped I hadn't made a fool of myself the previous night but was still anxious to get to the beach. We hadn't set a time to meet, so I went groggily to breakfast but felt better after oatmeal and orange juice.

A little better.

I tried to walk as smoothly and carefully as I could since my head sensed each jolt. I'd packed two bottles of water in my bag, and I should have had some Alka-Selzwe Hangover Relief in there as well.

Not surprisingly, Tim was at the sand pile already and looked happy to see me.

"We never set a time, so I was hoping you'd get here before noon," he laughed.

"Well, I decided to head to the bar last night and had some wine and a Mai Tai, so..."

Another smile. "So you'd like it if I speak softly."

"It's not quite that bad, but I'm anxious to build a sand castle. I hope our two accomplices show up soon so they can enjoy it too."

"We'll work on the castle for a while, and then...do you like to swim?"

"I do like to swim," I admitted.

"I often go for an hour's swim in the ocean. Maybe we can do that sometime today."

"I swam in high school, but I don't think I'm ready for an hour in the ocean, at least until the effects of the Mai Tai are totally gone."

But now I recognized that lithe look that Tim had. It was a swimmer's body, not muscular but toned and sleek. An hour in the ocean? He was obviously into his swimming much more so than I was.

"Come on," he encouraged. "We'll do this for a while, then swim, and finally, I'll do Joanne in sand."

I think I looked a little puzzled.

"I'll create a sand sculpture of Joanne."

"Tim, we just need a sand castle for the kids, and here they come now."

"We'll have both."

The two kids were obviously excited, and Mom looked interested too. She settled her chair a little ways from us and began to read, glancing over often to see how the sand sculpture was progressing.

Tims's work fit the classic tale of how this was done perfectly. He simply removed all of theh sand that didn't look like a sand castle and left the rest. I marveled at the deftness which he displayed doing it and knew it came from lots of experience doing the same thing. By close to noon, it was a classic if uncomplicated sand castle that captured the youngsters completely.

"You guys play carefully now so you don't damage anything," Mom cautioned as she stood gazing at the creation. "That's amazing," she said to Tim, and I agreed.

"Time for our swim," he said, a huge smile on his face.

"Are you sure you want to put up with me? You're obviously a dedicated swimmer."

"I'm not prepping for any competition, so I can swim as much or little as I want."

I studied his face, his stance, and his demeanor. I'd be here for two weeks, and I didn't know how long Tim might be here too. This was a little like summer camp where you met guys that you'd never see again. But I still wasn't ready for anything even a little like summer camp. I was just lonely, and Tim was a pleasant enough guy. I sighed.