Cecily and I beat a hasty retreat, or as hasty as we can be without rolling our ankles or falling into cacti.
When we are a safe distance away, Cecily says, "I didnotsee that coming."
"Did you see itgoing?" I am referring to the unfortunate sight of Johann's rear end.
"He made quite an exit."
"You have to hand it to them. Those nudists were a happy bunch."
"I can't imagine doing that."
"Being naked in front of a bunch of people? Yeah, me neither."
"That, too, but also, being that vulnerable. Every flaw on display." Cecily shakes her head. "The nudist life is not for me, for many reasons."
"Flaws are on display all the time, whether you realize it or not. Not physical flaws, necessarily, but the others. Flaws in personality, for instance. And what is seen as a flaw for one person, might not be seen as a flaw for the next person."
"Sort of like saying beauty is in the eye of the beholder?"
"In a way."
Cecily turns around suddenly. Pokes me hard in the chest. "Sounds to me like you're trying to get me to go tits out with Mrs. Abbot."
"Never," I say solemnly. "Nobody sees my wife's tits but me."
Cecily blushes.
I like it, the way the red spreads over her cheeks. "Or at least one, anyway. I've seen one."
She plays with the end of her braid, fighting a smile. "The other one looks just like it."
Knocking her hand gently aside, I toy with the braid. "I'll be the judge of that."
"We said we'd kiss once, Dominic."
Ooh. She full-named me. A sure sign I'm making her feel something.
Her grin turns mischievous. Her eyes, too. Her whole damn face. With two hands she reaches for the hem of her shirt, pulls it up, stopping for a short second to gather her bra. Up, and away.
She's beautiful. Perfection. I want her.
Too soon, she lowers her top. Wiggles her eyebrows.
I point a stiff finger her way. "Menace."
"I might not mind that nickname after all," she says, continuing the walk like she didn't just flash me. "In fact, it has a ring to it."
It's late afternoon when we make it back to the dude ranch. Cecily tells me we're ten minutes late for a cookout, according to the binder. There is no time to change, to clean up. I've been in these clothes all day, and I've been dreaming about a shower.
We walk into the outdoor pavilion, locating the Hampton family at a large table under a mesquite tree. The place smells of charcoal briquettes, open flame, and barbecue. Thank goodness for the country music blaring from the speakers, because my stomach is starting to talk. I didn't realize how long we'd been gone. Time with Cecily passes differently.
Two plastic folding chairs are vacant between Rainbow and Duke. Forced by our tardiness, we will have to sit next to Rainbow. I remember what Cecily said last night about Rainbow having a punchable face, and slide to Cecily's other side, placing myself between her and the death doula.
The Hamptons stare at us, agog. We must be a bedraggled, dirty sight.
"Where have you been?" Ophelia asks.
Cecily tosses her empty and crushed bottle of water on the table and sits heavily in her seat. "Let it be known that today is the day I saw my high school principal's fun bags."
