Love at Spain's Iron Cross

7 - Flamenco

7

Flamenco

Monday, May 17

Jordan woke up and saw that his knee's swelling seemed almost gone. 

Thank you ice! 

He had breakfast with Carlos, who directed him to a sporting goods shop where he bought walking sticks that worked like ski poles. He twisted the connections clockwise between sections to tighten them. No knobs like before, good. He tested the new pair, planting them hard on the pavement as he walked, and saw that the sections neither collapsed nor shortened. Even better, his knee felt good. His optimism returned that he'd be strong when he left Wednesday. He remembered Oriana.

I walked solo last time when you had that injury in the Pyrenees. But you'll be with me in my heart each step of the way on this journey, as you were then.

At 11:30, he arrived at Greta's room, and they walked to the pool. She undid her wrap, revealing the same stunning body and the pink bikini that covered so little. This time she lay on her stomach first. When she asked that he put the lotion on her back, he did so, feeling her muscular form, though still aware of the peekaboo star in the back that set his imagination wondering what lay beyond what he could see. He shook his head a little, smiling inside.

What a body. Good thing I can't get arrested for staring.

He remembered the first time he traveled around Europe, visiting there the summer after his freshman year in college before he started dating Oriana. He met up with a university dorm neighbor when he arrived in Sweden. The friend had relatives in Stockholm, so Jordan had a tour guide. They went to a local park on one of the first sunny days of the year. The Scandinavian women were celebrating by sunbathing topless. "Uh, Jordan, in Sweden we don't stare." Jordan nodded, embarrassed at being caught, then went out and bought glacier glasses, a pair dark enough to hide his eyes. At least no one knew he was staring then. Yesterday, he had forgotten his shades and left them back at the albergue. Today he brought them so she wouldn't see his reaction.

Greta turned over. "Thank you." She reached out for the lotion and began applying it to her front. She noticed his grin. "What are you smiling about?" She hoped she was the cause of his happiness.

"Oh, I'm just happy to be here."

Well, that's the truth. I kind of wish I could be the lotion going onto her body. I'm still heterosexual! Jordan got up and went for a dip before the front of his swimsuit changed shape.

When he returned, she offered to put the lotion on his back, as he had hoped. He was safe lying on his stomach, for her touch both awakened and soothed him at the same time. "Jordan, how was your morning?"

"Excellent. The knee's swelling is almost gone. It's a little weak, but felt good when I tested it with my new trekking poles. And I registered with the University of Salamanca. I will have two weeks of classes in the mornings, Monday through Friday, from June 7 to the 18th, and I can do my book research each afternoon. If my knee is good, the benefit of wearing my Nike shoes is that I can run in Salamanca, as well as hike in them on the Camino. I hope the knee holds up, but I can always ride the bus as my backup plan. Anyway, I'm set, and I can stay here the extra day and still just arrive in Salamanca on time by Sunday, June 6. That gets me to Santiago around the 4th of July, America's Independence Day. I hope the US or Spain, or both, will still be in the World Cup then!"

"You are excited. I am glad. Of course, if Germany plays either country, I must cheer for them instead."

"Understood. You are loyal. I respect that. And your team is one of the favorites, also. Buena suerte."