Minute by Minute

“It’s true.” God, he was glad she was as sarcastic live as she was online. “You weren’t home one night and I’d already written my column about the damn environmental bill I told you about. That idiot Thompson was just spoiling for me to say something that would upset—”

“Alex.”

He knew that tone, despite never having heard it before in his life. He had a tendency to get caught up in tangents, even on the computer, and Meg rarely let him get away with it. And now he could put the voice with the sentiment.

It seemed absurd that they’d never talked before. That this was their first meeting. On the other hand, why sit in the frying pan when you can jump right into the fire? “Right. I was seriously thinking about relocation at the time, and I figured an island worked for Gauguin, so why not me? So I surfed the web, and then I came across this island, and it was so much like what we’d talked about that, you know.”

“That you decided to spend an absurd amount of money so that we could meet here.”

“Basically, yeah. There’s the spa.” He pointed. “That whole building.”

“Is that your way of distracting me from follow-up questions?” she asked.

“No, that’s my way of saying there’s the spa.”

She looked at him. And damn if he didn’t recognize that look, too. Yeah, he’d never seen her, except for that surprisingly unflattering picture, but nonetheless.

“And about the questions. I told you. You can ask anything. I have no secrets,” he said.

“None?”

“Maybe one.”

“Which, of course, I’m going to have to get out of you before our time here is through,” Meg teased.

“Go for it.”

She grinned, then turned her attention to the spa.

The building was white, like the hotel, and it reminded him of the Greek Isles. Columns, open architecture, stark. A beautiful setting with ample views of the lush vegetation and the ocean. There were also some tents on the outskirts, more Roman than Greek, which were closed to their view. “Those are massage tents.”

Meg sighed. “I’ve dreamed of this. A real massage where I don’t have to think, or move, or do anything but make moany noises.”

“We can sign up right now.”

“Yes, please.”

He found the entrance and parked the cart under a nearby tree. Meg climbed out and he followed her up a series of marble steps, between two columns and into a spacious lobby. He hadn’t been to a lot of spas, but he’d read about this one, and it was supposed to be one of the best in the world.

A lovely older woman with silver hair smiled at them as they approached the marble desk. “How can I help you?”

“I’d like to get a massage, please,” Meg said.

“Of course. We have a four-handed massage, with two therapists working on your body at the same time. Aromatherapy, of course, using some of the fruits and oils unique to the Caribbean. We have reflexology, Swedish massage, hot stone massage, a sports massage tailored to your needs, and of course, our famous couples massage.”

“Okay,” Meg said. “I’ll take one of each.”

The woman smiled. “How would you like me to book them?”

“I was kidding. I want them all, but I’ll take two—how’s that?”

“Whatever we can do to make your stay more relaxing. There are also hydrotherapy sessions, seaweed baths, mud baths, and a mineral salt bath.”

“Now that’s just being mean.”

Alex touched Meg’s arm, wanting to give her all those treatments himself. “Anything you want.”

“I can’t decide. Do you have a brochure?”

“Naturally,” she said, handing her the folded chart. “But keep in mind you need to give us some advance notice. What I can do is put you down on our wait list, and notify you when we have an opening.”

“That would be wonderful.”

While Meg wrote down her name and how long she’d be staying, Alex studied the picture that dominated the wall across from the desk. Maybe he was nuts, but it looked like a Monet. Or a Manet. He could never get them straight. Whichever, it looked like something that belonged in a museum. With the blues and greens and soft lilypads, it was as tranquil as the building, as the breeze.

Meg thanked the receptionist, and they turned to leave. She walked slowly, sniffing the air as she walked. “It’s amazing.”

“What?”

“The ocean scent. It’s all over the island. Everywhere.”

“I’m used to the East Coast waters, and I don’t remember this smell at all.”

“I don’t think it’s like the California beaches, either. Maybe Catalina, but not quite. It’s like the ocean mixed with flowers somehow. I wish I could bottle it and take it home with me.”

“If I could get that for you, I would.”

She stopped, smiled at him. “This is the best present ever. You know that, right?”

“I hope so.” He waited, thinking maybe this would turn into a moment. The thought of kissing her was right there, urging him to move, but he held back. The first kiss was going to have to be her call. After that all bets were off. It wasn’t easy, but it was right. He had to wait.

The way she hesitated made him think that she was considering the options. But she didn’t lean forward. All she did was smile. It was enough. For now, at least.

“Where do we sign up for the other stuff?”

“Back at the hotel.”

“Should we do that now? I’m just thinking the place is pretty crowded…”

“Absolutely. Let’s go.”

They walked together, matching rhythms as they went down the steps. Once they were in the cart, he turned around and back to the hotel. It was a little trickier to find a place to put the cart, but after driving a few minutes, he found a space. The crowds here made him glad he’d gotten the bungalow, where it was quiet and empty and far away from all these adoring couples.

The entrance to the hotel was even more ornate than the spa facilities. Big marble steps again, but this time there was a fountain that greeted them just before the open front doors. He’d been to Italy several times and he recognized the fountain. It was a smaller version of the Trevi. When they reached the edge, he looked down and found the bottom glittering with coins of all kinds.

“It’s like that movie,” Meg said.

“Right. Legend has it that if you toss a coin into the fountain, you’re destined to come back.”