Melissa found an empty deck chair under a little palapa on the beach below the Ensenada del Mar. She dragged the chair out into the sun and began to soak up the rays. Maybe the sun, the sound of the waves, seeing the other miserable people, all of this would help put her life in perspective. Maybe James was right. It was just one mistake. You can’t condemn a man forever for just one mistake, can you? Every other man she would ever meet would have made at least one mistake in his past. It’s just that James made this mistake while she was trusting him not to. For some reason she couldn’t understand, that made all the difference in the world.
Melissa actually was beginning to realize that much of her depression has been because she hates herself for not being able to forgive James. For not moving on. Not looking at the bright side. And she also realized that she feels guilty for taking part in the fruit of James’s error. She tasted the fruit from that tree and she liked it. Did that not make her guilty as well?
She lounged on the chair thinking these thoughts and ignoring her magazine for the better part of an hour before the tennis ball flew by and the dog jumped on her.
“Bart! Get down, Bart! Ma’am, I am so sorry!”
Melissa had to make a visor from her hand to block the sun enough to see who was talking to her. He was about six feet tall with a slate buzz cut in a guayabera over navy shorts and no shoes. She thought he looked like he must live on the beach. I could live on the beach, she thought.
“Here. Let me get you a towel. Bart just chases that ball no matter where it goes. I should have been more careful where I threw it.”
“That’s ok,” Melissa said as she sat up and leaned back on her elbows. “It’s the beach, after all. What’s a little sand and salt water?”
“No, I insist. I’ll be right back.”
He trotted away and Bart the killer beagle followed along. Less than a minute later he returned with a towel and a pair of piña coladas, handing one over to Melissa. She sat all the way up now.
“No, really. I’m fine. I don’t need anything else,” she said, trying half-heartedly to refuse the drink.
“Again, I insist. It’s the least I could do. It is an all-inclusive resort, so it was free. Don’t think too much of it.”
“Okay, if you insist,” Melissa said as she took a tiny sip and set the glass down in the sand. The stranger sat down on the sand next to Melissa’s deck chair and Bart sat between them.
“Dave Gooding,” he said by way of introduction. “And I think you have already met Bart.”
“I’m Melissa,” she said, trying to feign disinterest.
“Nice to meet you, Melissa. Sorry about the circumstances. Are you here on vacation?”
He was chatting her up. This was not what she needed right now. An hour ago she stormed out on her well-meaning husband of over twenty five years, and in less than an hour she was to go pick up her sons from their tour, which still terrified her. And now here’s a handsome gentleman using some lame ‘my dog did it’ line to worm his way over to her. And he brought her a drink. She was a wife, and a mother. She was not here to be chatted up by some guy.
What am I even doing out here?
“Yes. I’m here with my husband and three sons.”
“Oh yeah? Are you staying here at the resort?”
“Yes. My boys are off on a dive trip and my husband is … on his way down.” Maybe if she just talked about her husband the whole time, he’d get the hint. Maybe she would get the hint, too.
“You’re going to love it here. It’s an amazing place… gorgeous views, the food is fantastic, it’s so relaxing, beautiful people. I have an apartment in San Juan where I spend a few months a year for my business, and sometimes when I’m in Puerto Rico I will take a few days and stay here at Ensenada del Mar just to unwind and take in the beauty.”
The guy has an apartment in San Juan, she considered. He brings his dog with him when he comes on business. Who has business that takes them to Puerto Rico for a couple of months a year? She was intrigued.
For the next little while, Melissa and Dave Gooding laughed and talked about meaningless things. They took turns throwing the tennis ball towards the water and Bart returned it to them playfully. Melissa finished half of her piña colada and Dave polished his off. As Dave was getting up to go get another round of drinks Melissa realized a few things with a start: she was late to go meet the boys at the marina, and she was playing with fire, dancing dangerously over the line.
“Dave, it was nice meeting you but I have to go.” Melissa stood up abruptly and snatched up her things.
“Okay. Well maybe I’ll see you around the resort. I’ll be here for a few more days.”
Melissa turned and began to walk away with purpose, absentmindedly waving behind her as Dave said, “Buenas tardes, amiga.” She tried really hard to ignore him.