Ah, I breathed out.There it is.The murky area I always sensed from him. The hurtful truth covered in dark silence.
“This must have been,” I whispered, “very hard for you and your siblings to accept.”
I could not see him, but I sensed his shrug. “We all dealt with it in different ways.”
“You began to race.”
He grew quiet at that, and I shivered when the tender caress of the bristles touched my scalp and then my back. He was taking extra care not to hurt me.
“I’ve always raced. Even before birth. Mamma told me so. I realized after finding you that I was always racing to you.”
“Bene,” I whispered. “I was so lonely without you.”
He breathed out, I heard it and felt it as he came forward and kissed my shoulder.
I cleared my throat. “I would like to keep designing and creating,” I whispered; perhaps his parents were bringing up thoughts of my own. “I was thinking, perhaps I could have my own shop in Grosseto or use the work area you set up for me at our home.”
“Not in Wyoming.”
It was not a question, but I answered it as if it was. “No,” I agreed. “Not in Wyoming. This is our space to disappear into each other.”
We grew quiet after this, and I melted into the feeling of having my hair combed. I had never had that before. Or did not remember it, if I had.
After my husband was done, I swayed on my feet from how relaxing it felt. He lifted me off them, carrying me up to the cave. We said nothing as I set out the blanket tucked inside of the box. It was cool from whatever ice packets had kept the food fresh.
Mariano explained that all of the cuisine was traditional. I especially enjoyed the duruka, which was a type of wild asparagus, and vudi vakasoso, a Fijian dessert made with plantains drizzled with caramel, along with fresh fruit.
“Here.” I pushed a piece of pineapple at him. “You are not eating.”
“Eat, Annie,” he said, but he took my offering. “You need it.”
“I enjoy feeding you.” I offered him a piece of banana.
He pushed it back at me. “I just had a piece.”
All right.I breathed out. “One for me.” I ate it. Then I offered him another. “One for you.”
He took it and then looked straight, as if he was staring through the waterfall. Then he roared with laughter.
“What?” I looked all around, at first, not sure where the sound had come from.
The sound of his joy echoed around the cave. I could not help but feel the truth in it. It was as soft as the blanket underneath me, but the foundation of it was as sturdy as this cave.
Me.
I was his joy.
His healing, as he called me.
“Two bites for my wife,” he said between bouts of laugher. “One for me.”
I laughed, the sound of mine joining in with his. “I am hungry!” I almost felt ravenous, as if the food we had eaten was only a snack. So…. I had snuck another piece to his one while he was not looking. He had caught me. Set me up, most likely.
He could not catch his breath. He pulled me in, kissing my temple, then slid his hand underneath my hair and started to massage my neck. The piece of fruit I plucked from the platter stilled. My hand hung. I brought my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them to keep steady.
He was amazing with his hands.
He was kneading and getting deep into my tissue. Then his fingers would become light, brushing up and down my spine, as if he were painting me with caressing strokes. I made indecent noises.
