The small alcove made me feel safe. It wasn’t carnivorous, just a hideaway with its own rock wall to secure it from the inside of the cliff. And if you didn’t have eagle eyes like Brando, it wasn’t obvious. I put my bag down as far as I could from the falls, not wanting my camera to get wet. I had bought Brando an underwater camera for work. I was thankful for the forethought to pack it. Then I retrieved the soap we brought with us. Captain O’Malley’s special bar made of plant and food products—it smelled of coconut and mint.
Brando opened one of the two boxes that had been left, checking that nothing had gotten in. They were sealed tight. Whatever was inside was packed in a cooler that kept the food cold. He placed the towels on top, gazing out at the water with longing.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll throw our things to you before I get in.”
“Are you going to jump, Ballerina Girl?” He cocked his eyebrow up in challenge.
It wasn’t a far jump, but it still made my palms clammy.
“I’ll catch you. Besides, you’re nothing but skin and bone. You won’t even be able to knock me out if you jump on my head by accident.”
“That’s because your head is as hard as stone.”
He grinned.
“Just get in,” I said, smiling, busying myself with the task at hand.
He warned me about the rocks being slippery and told me that if I decided not to jump, he was going to walk me down. I gave him a kiss and pushed him out. A loudwhoop!met me before a huge splash disturbed the pool, and then awhooo!as he broke the surface.I knew he was probably shaking off water like a dog, and then he’d go back under and see what he could discover.
“Hey, baby,” he yelled. “Throw me the underwater camera.”
I rummaged around in the bag for it, taking out the pineapple and coconut. After finding it, I stood on the edge of the rock, throwing it down.
He caught the camera easily. “Stand like you were before, in the back of the waterfall. But take your—” he motioned around his stomach, which I knew he meant sarong “—off.”
“Why?” I asked, a bit suspicious.
“Your shape is beautiful. I can see you through the water, your entire outline. In black and white—” He whistled. “I’ll have something for me to look at. Only me. Stand straight and lift your hair up. Then let it down.”
I shook my head but did as he told me to. After he had a few pictures, I threw the products down, watching as he boated them to the nearest rock so they wouldn’t float off. The sponge seemed more inclined to get away. I covered my bag with the towels, and then, shocking him, I leapt in.
I hit welcome, cool arms that seemed to baptize me in the pool. Clear bubbles floated from my mouth, my hair rose over me in dark, wavering flames, and all at once I felt clean and revived. I broke the surface with a splutter, breathing in the scent of tropical air, meeting the warm rays of the sun. I moaned in ecstasy. “This feels so, so good.” I did the backstroke, bringing my toes above the water, wiggling them.
“Have you ever bathed in something like this?” Brando asked, going for the bar of soap.
“No,” I said, going for him. I held on to his back, kissing his shoulders. “Have you?”
“No. But now that I have, I could do it every day.” A true sound of contentment rang in his voice. Ever since our chat on the trek to the waterfalls, when he mentioned me not having fun, he was more at ease, more like the man I knew during the night when it was the two of us. At home, someone always expected something from him. Or we were in constant battle with whomever over my dancing, which had become a tree that had sprouted golden limbs, attracting all the greedy people. Then there was his job. He was gone two weeks out of the month—which, come to think of it, he hadn’t mentioned.
Here, we existed in our own tropical world, with the doctor and his wife, who seemed to be creating their own reality. Nothing demanded, nothing expected—we existed for us.
He pulled me around, weightless to his anchor, and set me in front of him. He massaged whatever he could get in the way of soap from the bar into my hair. “Scarlett,” he said, his tone almost careful. “I took a leave of absence from my job.”
Sometimes it was eerie how he could do that. Read my mind. “Why?”
“I refuse to leave you. And I don’t have to.”
A surge of excitement shot through me, and I let out a sound that was almost a sob of release. I wouldn’t have to dread parting with him. He’d be with me for longer than two weeks for the first time since we were married.
He cleared his throat. His fingers slowed. “What do you want to do, baby?”
“W-what do you mean?”
“As far as work.”
“Are you asking me if I want to quit dancing?” I dipped under the water, letting the water take my filth. When I came up, I motioned for him to get in front of me so I could wash him. His hair was jet black, like a raven’s, and so silky on top where it was longer.
“I’m asking you what you want to do. If you want to quit dancing.” He shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy. You can go back to school—become a teacher, like you wanted.”
