“How do you know about Gerdy?”
“It’s okay, Pip. You and I only see each other once per year. She may have your body. I understand you have needs. Boys your age are built of those needs.” A gloved finger twisted through the curls of her long, brown hair. “Your heart belongs to me, though. I think we both know that, don’t we, Pip?”
“Plenty of girls have seen me naked,” I blurted out, knowing it sounded as false as it was.
“The fragrant scent of stale diner draws them in, I suppose.” Her gloved finger found her bottom lip, traced the edge. “Please, Pip, wash.”
I looked past her to the two figures in white standing at the pool house, the others in the trees, those silent eyes, all on us. I tried to move, but my arms and legs simply wouldn’t.
Stella let out a sigh and crossed the stone to a lounge chair at the pool’s edge. She turned toward the water, her back to me. “My little Pip. So wondrously bashful.”
She reached behind and tugged at the zipper of her dress, pulling it down to the small of her back. The black material fell away, dropping from her shoulders to her arms, to the stone at her feet. Stella stood there for a moment in only a black bra and matching panties, a statue of perfectly smooth, white skin bathed in moonlight, highlighted by the soft twinkle of the lights strung above. She stepped out of the dress and raised first her left foot, then her right, removing her heels. Stella peeled away her remaining glove, and without looking back at me, dove into the water, breaking the surface with the agility of a knife through butter.
The pool was shallow on this end, no more than four or five feet. She adjusted for the depth with practiced ease, cutting through to the bottom. She twisted parallel at the floor, the kicks of her slender legs propelling her from one end of the water to the other. She resurfaced on the opposite end of the pool, turned, and smiled back at me, saying nothing.
I kicked off my shoes and peeled my filthy shirt over my head with absolutely none of the grace Stella had shown. I nearly fell over trying to get my jeans off. She giggled and laughed through all of this, one arm on the stone edge of the pool, holding her above the surface, while her legs fluttered beneath the water. I kept my boxers on, walked past her pile of clothes, and jumped awkwardly into the water. I dropped like a rock, and when my feet touched the bottom, I pushed back off and broke the surface. The pool was only about five feet deep where I stood, just shallow enough so I could keep my head above water. The temperature was warm, warmer than the night air. Water had gotten into my ears and nose, and I shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of it.
Stella watched me curiously from the other side of the pool, the deep end, smiling but saying nothing.
I looked out across the water to her. I tried to walk closer, but within another foot, my head was barely above the surface. “I can’t swim.”
“No?”
“My aunt enrolled me in summer swim camp once. I think I was around nine or ten, but I never got the hang of it. I went three times and gave up. Not much need for swimming around here. It’s not like we live near the ocean or anything.”
“But wouldn’t you like to travel to the ocean one day?”
“I like it here.”
“You don’t desire to see the world? Visit far-off places? Discover new things?”
I shrugged. “My friends are here. I have my aunt, my job. Maybe one day. I don’t know.”
Our words picked up a strange echo from the water, reverberating through the distance that separated us, the softest whisper as loud as a shout.
“Would you follow me to the ocean? If I went?”
“Is that what you want?”
“A question for a question, Pip? I wonder where you learned such a thing.”
“I think I would.”
“What?”
“Follow you.”
“And leave your aunt behind? Your friends? That job you seem to love so?”
I replied, “Not today, but someday.”
“You can spend a lifetime waiting for ‘someday’ to arrive. Ask your aunt if she ever saw her ‘someday’…” Stella pushed the damp hair from her eyes. “You’ll spend your life in this town, in that little diner. You’ll never climb a mountain or explore a dark cave. You’ll never walk the streets of Paris or even visit New York—the largest metropolis, only a few hours away, yet an impossible journey for a boy like you. You’ll blink your eyes, and when you open them you’ll find yourself sitting on a rocking chair at some retirement home right here in Pennsylvania with a lifetime behind you and your ‘someday’ nothing more than a distant mirage, hazy at best. This town is filled with the likes of you.”
“If I’m so ordinary, why am I here right now?”
“Because it’s our day, don’t you think? Do we need another reason?” Stella placed both hands on the edge of the pool behind her, faced the sky, and floated on her back. The water glistened on her exposed flesh, the black material of her underwear shimmering, her knees slightly bent.
I took a step closer. The waterline now at my chin. “Why do you send me money?”
