“Nope. I’m the lucky one, remember?”
I hopped off my float, wrapped my arms around him, and laid my head on his chest, somehow knowing that my life would split itself in two after this trip. There would bebefore Beckettandafter Beckett.I just couldn’t shake the hope that theafter Beckettperiod would last, well, forever.
***
Mom and I boarded the water taxi at 3:30. Hugo was driving. I wondered if there was ever a time when Hugowasn’tdriving his boat back and forth from the hotel to the island. Mom took to bringing him treats, only her idea of treats might have been someone else’s idea of whole meals. She brought him a steak sandwich (“porque tu eres fuerte,” she explained), and the next day, she brought him a box of donuts from the Dunkin’ in the square (“porque tu eres dulce.”) It was so obvious that he didn’t know what to do with her gifts, so he just smiled shyly and said, “Gracias.”
For this ride, Mom brought Hugo a Gatorade and a fruit cup (“porque tienes sed y es muy caliente”), and I laughed because I’m pretty sure he didn’t understand what she meant. Still, he accepted the snack and offered a gracious smile. On the island, she let him help her out of the boat and while holding his hand in hers, she lifted it up in the air and did a little spin underneath. “Baila!” she cheered. Alas, Hugo was not in the mood to bailar con mi madre. Still, we laughed all the way to the Island Cove spa hut. “You’re going to givehima heart condition if you’re not careful,” I warned her.
“He’s very nice,” she explained. “He’s just a little shy.”
“Okay, Mom,” I replied.
The Island Cove spa hut was located on the farther side of the island, by Papagayo’s Grill. We walked all the way through the family-friendly beach, past the restaurant, to a wooden walkway with a red velvet ropeblocking its path.Guests of the spa only beyond this point,it read. Smiling, Mom said, “That’s us!” and stepped around the barrier.
Gentle, Zen spa music played in the background as we approached the hut. It was open to the sea, with a hammock strung up near the edge and potted plants placed thoughtfully in spaces around the perimeter, to create both a sense of privacy and a lush, tropical backdrop. There were two parallel massage beds arranged on a diagonal in the center of the space, and the massage therapists, both dressed in salmon and white, were busily readying the space for our arrival.
“Ahh, welcome,” said one, whose name tag readJune. “You must be Mrs. Paulson, yes?” She reached out to shake Mom’s hand.
“I am indeed,” she replied, “but you can call me Birdie. This is my daughter, Melody. And we are ready for all of this.” She waved in the general direction of the entire hut, and June and the other lady smiled in response.
“You may leave your belongings wherever is comfortable and change into these robes,” June explained, pointing at two fluffy white robes with matching sets of slippers, each hanging from the thatched side of the hut nearest the outdoor shower. There was a privacy screen with floral decor that created a space for changing out of our clothes without flashing any errant snorkelers passing by. I went in first, stripped down to my bathing suit, and then removed my top, sliding on the comfy robe. I folded my clothes and placed them in a cubby behind the screen, wriggled my feet into the slippers and returned to the massage tables. Mom followed suit as April (the other masseuse) brought me a lemon tonic water.
“I love that your names are April and June,” Mom commented. “Between your names and ours, we could be song lyrics.” The ladies politely smiled, and June gave her a lemon tonic water while April explained the rundown.
“We’ll begin the massages shortly, along with the extras you requested. Paraffin for your hands and pink salt scrubs for your feet. Then we willbring you your drinks and fruit platter. What kind of drinks can we get you from the bar?”
“I’ll take a piña colada and a mudslide,” Mom said.
“And I’d like a strawberry daiquiri and a bushwacker,” I added.
“Absolutely,” June replied. “After that, you may stay here and relax, enjoy the sunset. At 6:20, one of us will come to let you know the time is almost ending. And then at 6:30, you may depart. Hugoberto will meet you at the dock to bring you home.”
“Ah, he’s a doll, isn’t he?” Mom commented.
“He keeps to himself, but he is very kind,” April agreed.
Within minutes, we were lying face down, massage oils fragrant with jasmine and bergamot being rubbed into our backs in long, smooth strokes. With my mom beside me, Beckett waiting for me just a short boat ride away, and a luxury spa treatment working itself into my back, I was in heaven. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that relaxed. It didn’t take long before I fell asleep to the relaxing sounds of the surf and the music.
When the massages and hand and foot treatments were complete, our drinks and fruit awaited us on a table beside the hammock, as if by magic. Before I knew it, the women were gone and we were alone, basking in the glow of utter relaxation. We each grabbed a frozen cocktail off the tray and clinked our glasses. “To us,” I said, and Mom echoed me. She moved to a lounge chair facing the setting sun, and I parked myself in the hammock, swinging like a happy child.
“So?” she began. “You really like this guy, huh?”
“Yeah. He’s, um—”
“He’s spectacular, in my opinion.”
“Well, I’m really glad you think that. Your opinion means a lot to me.”
“You think it’ll last beyond…”
“Here? I hope so.”
“What have you learned about him? I mean, we know he’s gorgeousand extremely taken by you. We know he writes, which I think is just…” her voice trailed off.
“Incredible, right?” I filled in for her. “Like, we’re aligned in so many ways. It’s amazing.”
“What about his family? What’s the story there?”
