My Kind of Woman

27. Our Day

Jackie's face sagged with disappointment, her hand slipped from my shoulder. Mr. Reed had his eyebrows raised. Can you see it on my face? Please don't read me.

"What? Why didn't you say this before?" Jackie asked, voice high with her whining.

I shrugged, trying to look as apologetic as possible, forcing down the guilt that was threatening to flash across my face. Avoiding their eyes was like dancing away from bullets.

"I didn't know we were going on a boat, I'm so sorry. I would've said earlier if I knew," I said, rubbing the side of my leg under the table.

"No, no," Mr. Reed held his hand up, "my bad, I didn't mention the boat, and I should've before I bought the places."

A paid trip? I was afraid my guilt would swallow me. Don't be nice to me, I begged, just don't.

"Ugh. What'll you do all day?" Jackie asked, slumping her head against my shoulder.

"Sunbathe, read, go down to the beach one more time," I said.

"Won't you be lonely?"

I smiled. "No, not at all."

-

It didn't take much convincing for them to drop it. They were already half ready, rubbing sun lotion into their skin in the foyer and turning the living room upside down, looking for a pair of sunglasses I could see on the dining table. I wanted them to go quickly. I was thinking about Mio, shut away upstairs, feeling unwell. I was going to bring her some water, a cold washcloth and very plain toast. Had I overworked her? Had the thought of me first thing in the morning repulsed her to nausea? That idea made my own stomach flip.

Mr. Reed exclaimed they were running late, they yelled bye to me and dashed out the door, lugging an unnecessarily large tote bag. Then I was left in the large, silent house with my own whirring thoughts.

I still needed a shower, a bath, something of a wash. I probably stunk of sea water and sweat. I decided I would after I'd checked on Mio, the more important of the two.

Like I always did, I passed through the bathroom to get to her room, despite the main door being cracked ajar. I knocked first, gently, and with no reply, I slipped inside.

The curtains were drawn back, windows wide open. The drawers had been pulled open and men's clothing was hanging over its edges, appearing like Mr. Reed had struggled to choose an outfit that morning.

"Mio?" I called to the shape in the duvet.

Her head lifted up quickly, the covers slipping to her shoulders, her hair tousled and cheeks flushed. My fingers gripped around the glass of water tightly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice sounding awkward.

She let her head loll back down against the duvet, in a space I could then see, smiling softly. "I had a feeling you'd stay behind."

I relaxed, sighing the weight from stomach away, and smiled back at her.

"Of course," I whispered.

I came a little closer, placing her water and toast on the bedside cabinet. She looked at it, then me. She was still wrapped in her robe from last night, probably still nude beneath, and slept with the thought of my mouth and hands on her being the last.

"What's this?" She asked.

"Uh, toast, and water... for your stomach ache," I said, scanning her face for any signs of discomfort.

She laughed in her breathy morning voice. "I'm alright. No stomach ache. I just... had a feeling you'd stay."

My heart was fluttering wildly, like it was trying to free itself from the cage of my ribs. I knew then it wouldn't stop beating that hard until I went to sleep that night. Our interactions made my body react and buzz for hours, like I was coming down from a drug high.