Passing Grade

She fell asleep in my arms, and when I awoke with the hint of morning peeking through the curtains, I lay absolutely still, relishing her heat and her scent. I wore a smile and nothing else, and when Julia finally stirred, snuggling close, I pulled her atop me and smothered her with an affection I couldn't contain. I suckled at her breasts; again, she was nurturing me.

Julia was leaving town with a childhood friend that afternoon, touring far and wide as part of her visit, then flying back to New Zealand from another city. But first we made love again, slowly and passionately, then shared a leisurely room-service breakfast, wearing the thick terry hotel robes that hung in the closet. I bathed with her, brushed her hair, watched her reapply her makeup.

I held her in my arms for a long time before she drove away that day. I wept for her that afternoon, and I have been holding her in my heart ever since. She's coming back for a visit this autumn, her first since that incredible trip, but her itinerary will not be nearly as full.

Julia and I are going back to the Ritz for dinner, and I've reserved the same table. But this time she is staying with me, and I don't intend to let this truly special woman, my beautiful teacher of then and now, out of my sight or out of my arms.