Two Little Secrets

They both wanted kids. Except she couldn’t conceive. All she remembered after countless tests was that pregnancy wasn’t possible. At first, Denny said it didn’t matter. But he’d lied. He wanted a child of his own seed and refused to consider any other options. Since she couldn’t give him one, he couldn’t forgive her for her imperfections. He married his pregnant lover the day their divorce became final. Ginna wanted to slink off into a corner to lick her wounds, but her family and friends wouldn’t allow her to hide. Initially, she hated them for their warfare tactics to get her out of her shell, but later on, she appreciated their concern.

As a result, she hadn’t dated much since her divorce. She preferred keeping herself busy with lots of bookings and spending time with family and friends. What with Brian’s wedding and Abby and Jeff having a baby, family parties were plentiful. The salon and day spa had also been busier ever since word got out that their Blind Date Central bulletin board had been successful in matching up the right women with the right men since its conception two years ago.

Who would have thought that a group of women lamenting the lack of available men would turn into Blind Date Central? Blind Date Central was a success from the first day. Women posted pictures of and information about available men they knew but weren’t interested in romantically on the board. The women were willing to share, and the men they “sponsored” had an even better chance of meeting the lady of their dreams.

As a result, permanent matches had been made.

She’d helped her sister, Nikki, post their brother Brian’s picture on the board, which was promptly snapped up by Gail Roberts, a pediatrician who was now his wife and mother of their baby girl. Another success story.

Ginna had checked out the board a few times but didn’t see anyone who rang her chimes, as she liked to say.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think that fate had stepped in and tossed Zach her way.

And she wasn’t about to toss him back.

“YOU DID VERY WELL,” Ginna told Zach for about the fifth time. “Definitely better than I did. I think the only reason I didn’t immediately fall off was I wanted to wait until I was in deeper water so the fall would look more logical.”

“Yeah, I did great all right. A ten-year-old kid was telling me what to do,” Zach grumbled good-naturedly, wincing as he gingerly lowered his battered body to the sand. “He was out there managing that sail as if he’d been doing it since he was in the cradle.”

“It’s all that time they spend with their video games. Their hand-eye coordination is miles ahead of ours,” she said, even as she asked a waiter to bring them two piña coladas and a bowl of pineapple spears.

Zach grinned sheepishly. “You’re doing a good job of soothing my ego.”

“Good. And once you have your piña colada, you’ll feel even better.” She reached for a broad-brimmed hat and plopped it on her head to protect her face. A stripe of aqua-shaded zinc oxide graced the bridge of her nose to save it from burning in the strong sun. “Even better when you dip a pineapple spear in it and then eat it.”

“Too bad I didn’t hurt anything. Maybe I could have talked you into kissing my booboos.”

His provocative comment hung heavily between them.

Ginna sat up on her knees. She leaned forward to whisper, “Then I guess the next time you fall off a sail-board, I’ll have to do just that.”

He stared into her eyes. “Be careful, sweetheart. I just might hold you to that promise.”

Her lips pursed in a kissable pout. “Don’t worry, Zach,” she murmured, “I always keep my promises.”

Zach stood up and started walking back down the beach.

Ginna looked up, startled by his quick retreat.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Where do you think I’m going? I’m getting back on that damn sailboard!”

In an instant, her surprised laughter followed him as he made his way back to the sailboards. One of which, he knew, had his name on it.

Ginna lost track of time as she watched Zach head out to the water. The bright blue-and-white sail was easy for her to track. She picked up a pineapple spear, dunked it in her piña colada the way a doughnut was dunked in coffee. She took a bite of the fruit, enjoying the slight coconut-and-rum taste that had soaked into it. In no time, the pineapple spear was gone and she was munching on a second one.

“If he stays out too long, I’ll have to get another bowl of pineapple,” she told herself, already eyeing a third spear. “And if he’s lucky, I’ll save him one.”

“YOU’RE A VERY STUBBORN man,” Ginna told Zach as they returned to the hotel.

Ginna walked. Zach limped.

“I wasn’t going to let a piece of lumber win,” he groused.

“And it didn’t,” she said happily.

“It only took me about three hundred tries to get it right.” He straightened up, then groaned. “It was easier when I was younger.”

“When you were more agile and flexible?” she said, tongue tucked firmly in cheek. She flashed him a blinding smile when he glared at her. “Younger bodies bounce better. Softer bones,” she went on blithely. “At least you landed on water. It’s a lot softer than if you landed on, say, cement.” She patted his shoulder.

“Small comfort, Ginna,” he growled.

“All you need is a good massage and a hot shower, and you’ll feel like a new man,” she assured him.

He brightened at her suggestion. “Are you going to give me the massage?”

“Not my line of expertise. But I understand the hotel has a lovely spa and a couple of massage therapists. I hear the one named Stan is excellent.”

Zach winced and not just because his muscles were protesting every move he made.

“I don’t think so,” he muttered. “I’ll just stick with the hot shower.” He stopped at the bank of elevators. “There was a time when I didn’t end up looking as if I was ready to fall apart at any second.”

Ginna smiled at his confession. “Ah, a man of the millennium.” She pushed the call button. “Does this mean you don’t want to play tennis this afternoon?” she teased.

“Right now, I wouldn’t even play golf if I could swing the club from a golf cart,” he told her. He stepped into the elevator after the doors opened. “Still have pity for an old man and have dinner with him?”

“Okay. I’ll see you at seven,” she said.

He was smiling as the elevator doors closed. A smile that disappeared as soon as the doors slid shut. He leaned against the wall.

“Oh, yeah, you gave the lady a great impression,” he muttered. “And on the first day, too. She’ll probably wait and call later with an excuse for why she can’t meet me tonight, and I can’t blame her. I thought chasing after the kids kept me fit. Obviously that fitness routine isn’t very reliable.”

Zach took his time in the shower, savoring the hot spray as it pounded down on his battered body. By the time he got out and toweled off, he was feeling more like himself but could still feel some stiffness in his arms and legs.

He regretted not bringing his laptop computer along. Writing down his impressions of his vacation could be some good fodder for his column. He pulled stationery out of the desk drawer and began writing. When he got a chance, he’d pick up a notebook in town.

I’m sitting here in paradise. I’ll be meeting a beautiful woman for dinner. Is this not every man’s dream? After all, the kids are three thousand miles away. So why am I thinking the kids would have a ball here? Yeah, I know I’m a fool.

I’m a single dad who works out of my home. Meeting women isn’t easy unless we’re parents in the same play group or at the preschool.

But I’m still feeling guilty being here without the kids. Maybe I should look at it another way. Maybe the kids are enjoying a vacation from me. Maybe they’re doing all the things I don’t allow them to do.

Can any of you tell me why when I woke up this morning, I thought about that beautiful woman instead of my kids? In a sense, I did think about them. I thought about how it felt not having a small body jump on top of me and demand breakfast. I thought about how it felt to hear sounds of the ocean in the background instead of Sesame Street.

Then I thought about seeing the lovely lady in a bikini.

You know what this means, don’t you? I’ll be taking home a small fortune in souvenirs for my kids because I’ll feel guilty I didn’t take them with me.