2 Questions Every Girl is Asking Herself

Chapter 23

Jeremiah was leaving Bali in two days. He'd planned to be home for his son's 12th birthday. The night before his departure, we took a dip in the pool, and then climbed to the tippity top of the hotel building, which towered above all else like a lighthouse. It was a small sunken patio with a thatched roof, surrounded by bench seating with embroidered cushions. From this height, one could see as far as the ocean. We sat quietly, and took in the scent of the evening air.

I relished everything about this moment. The moon was bright and luscious. There couldn't be a more eloquent ending to our sweet yet evanescent encounter. Its brevity made it all the more poetic. Tomorrow Jerry would return home in America and I shall commence with my dream experiment. It never occurred to me until then that this experiment was the most important reason I'd embarked on this journey at all. That all the traveling in Yunnan, and Sichuan and Shanghai, were all excuses to logically, responsibly, conveniently, lead me here. That this event would give all THAT – meaning. I wanted to be all casual about it, all nonchalant about it, all spontaneous about it, that I wouldn't even allow this radical thought formulate into sentences in my mind three short months ago. I felt a subdued excitement, of being on the verge of living the dream I'd had for seven years, but had always shelved for later. I couldn't help but giggle at Ketut's prophetic seal of approval. I wondered what it would feel like to live by the beach and write all day, alone and undisturbed? I want to live in a house with giant glass windows that face the ocean...

The ocean that turned moonlight into an incandescent shimmer... Jeremiah turned to face me, gazing into my eyes, he murmured,

"I'm coming back."

"WHAT?!" I jerked up from a most relaxed sitting position.

I gaped at him. My eyes grew to the size of watermelons. Is this guy getting serious or is this one of his getting into my pants tactics? And then realizing I should probably look more glad than stunned, I softened my tone.

"Really? When are you coming back?"

"Probably next weekend."

"So soon!"

"There's no point for me to stay there longer."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm coming back here!"

"Oh!"

He couldn't possibly be coming back here for me... could he?

 "How long are you planning to stay in Bali?" I asked.

"A month."

Wow, is he really coming back for me?

"Is that ok? I mean I know you're here to write and be alone, I don't want to interrupt your writing."

"Yeah, no, it wouldn't affect my writing," I lied.

I bet he'll change his mind as soon as he gets back in Cincinnati.