Authors: Beverley Andi
The shopping takes
me most of the afternoon
but I do
manage to do some cleaning.
Why d
o guys think bathrooms are self-
cleaning? I had a brother,
they’re all the same.
You’
d think someone who could see the beauty in nature and capture it on
canvas
could see mold on the shower til
e.
Ya
think?
By the time I scrubbed the bathroom, there was only time to put my dainty toes into the shower and wash
quickly and
dress
.
Supper i
s going to be a salad and an omele
t cooked on the hot plate.
I ca
n’t spring for a stove today!
When Jay walks
in he
does
n’t seem to be interested in food and after
a little kissing I must admit I’m not
either. So we retired to his bed.
This seems
to be the pattern we follow
all week,
making love,
trailed
by
a late candlelit
supper,
with much
la
ughing an
d whispering.
T
his kind of thing never happened to me
before
.
He has stolen my heart
.
Sometimes
,
when the apartment ge
t
s
too oppressive from the
enduring temperature
, we ride to the mount
ains and hang out until dusk. W
hen we
return,
the sun i
s s
etting and the
angry
heat of the day has ebbed
.
We often stop at a pull-off
and
observe the moon
’s
entrance into the night
as the lights of the city begin
to glimmer
.
How alive I feel in this place.
How
lov
ed
I feel in Jay’s ar
ms.
Chapter 4
At the conclusion of my first
week
,
I convince
Jay to drive to Santa Fe
with the rental car
and deliver his paintings to
the gallery in person
.
O
riginally
I
planned my trip
around
a funky new B&B
called, Pueblo
Bonito,
which
served
free
m
argaritas
at 5:00 each night.
Instead
of canceling,
I want
us
to
be together
and explore the city.
As luck would have it, the ro
om I had booked was a single.
T
he young
manager
took
pity on us
,
especially when I explain
ed that Jay wa
s a struggling arti
st. Jay looks mortified but I’m
a great
storyteller
so I embellish a little. The manager has a cancellation
and
gi
ve
s
us a suite with
a l
iving
room
,
adobe
fireplace,
bedroom, and a ti
ny kitchen,
at
no extra charge.
I am psyched!
Our first task
is
to drop o
ff the paintings.
While Jay speaks
to the
owner
,
I look
around. It i
s a
modest
gallery
with some nice work on display and in a goo
d location;
I fee
l
positiv
e
.
Yet it is
bittersweet as
I realize I can’t
escort
Jay to the opening reception.
After we leave
,
w
e
wander the streets
,
arm in arm
,
as Jay points out some of the places he
’
s
worked and some of the galleries
where
his
painting
s have
hung
.
Around 5
:00 I insist
we head back to the B&
B for the cocktails and
chips.
If it’s free
,
I’m there
, baby.
We walk into the sunny lounge filled with plants and
brightly
color
ed tiles. The manager greets
us and sh
ows
us
the large pitcher of m
argaritas
, salsa and chips
.
There are
only two other couples enjoying intimate conversations
around the room
.
“Where do you want to sit?”
“Outside.”
“
Hun
h
?
It’s so hot out. Don’t you like the AC?”
“OK
,
inside
, but let’s sit over there in the corner.”
“OK, you want
to get the drinks?”
“No.” He moves to the table on the far side of the room
and sits facing the wall
.
I look at him for a secon
d then go and pour two drinks.
The manager makes some small talk about
enjoying our
stay
. I move
to the table quickly
, sit, and
see
Jay
’s
troubled face
.
“Jay, wh
at’s the matter?
You don’t seem
like yourself.”
“I feel uncomfortable.
I don’t come to hotel
s
or motels with p
r
etty women like you especially o
n this side of town.
I don’t belong here.”
He takes a swallow of his drink and begins tapping his leg up and down in a nervous
movement
.
I look at him with my mouth open. “Whoa, is this…are you telling me that this is an ethnic thing?”
He hunches his shoulders and leans forward and
talks even softer than usual.
“What I’m
sayin
’ is
I only stayed in motels 3 or 4 times in my life and they were very rough
places.
Nothin
’ nice like this.
I see the looks you’re
gettin
’
from guys
.
Even the m
anager keeps coming on to you.
You
’
r
e
beautiful and here you…”
“Wait,
you neve
r said I was beautiful before.
You just said a moment ago I was pretty.”
“Aw,
that’s because I felt awkward.
From the first day I saw you on my tour I thoug
ht you were beautiful and so dar
n intelligent. I told you I’m not good with words
, it takes me time to say what I want.”
“Do you pick up a lot of women on your tours?”
“No,” he says
emphatically, “you
happen to be the only one
.
I usually stick to my own kind, it’s safer. Eastern
er
s are generally too aggressive, too impatient and rude
for me
.”
“Why did you ask me out?”
“Well,
truthfully,
at first I thought you were annoying, asking
so many
questions.
I tho
ught you just wanted attention.
But it didn’
t take long to realize
you knew more than me
.
Some of your ques
tions made me stop and think.”
He laughs and takes a drink. “
Kate
, I don’t go out much anymore.
After the d
ivorce I
kinda
’
kept to myself.
Friends would try to fix
me up but it never worked out.
I never expected any of this to happen.
By the end of that first night
at the diner
,
y
ou were all I could think about
.
Now you’re
all I’v
e
been
lovin
’
since.
”
I reach for his hand.
“It’s been an extraordinary week and you are an
exceptional man
.
Have you ever taken
a look at yourself in a mirror?
You’re quite a
handsome guy
.
I see a lot of women giving
you ‘the look’
too, you know.
You
are
so buff in your jeans and tees strutting around
so cool.
And with that
coy smile
you look so sexy
.
He shakes his h
ead and gives me one o
f his
li
ttle
smile
s
, “Come on, sexy
, cool, handsome…what was the other…oh, buff, you’ve got to be
joking. If women are looking at me the
y’re wondering what the hell you’re doing with me
.”
“
Stop right there, mister.
” Now I’m
annoyed.
“
I’ve dated a good deal but never found anyone I cared enough about to continue a rela
tionship. Many of the guys I’ve met we
re artists or work in the museum field, too.
To be honest,
many of them went
out with me
just to see if I could
further their career
s since
I have c
onnections working at
A
MA.
Whatever the reason, I found
their egos
unquenchable
.
You are so different.
You have a softness that extends from your eyes, to your voice, to your hands. You speak from your heart.
It’s a rare quality, Jay.”
He shrugs hi
s shoulders.
“It’s easy to be with
you.”
I squeeze his hand.
“
It’s easy to love you.
Don’t be
uncomfortable,
yo
u belong here just as much as I do
.”
He looks down at the two empty glasses.
“Hmm, I guess you want me to
get us more drinks.”
He gives his
half smile and winks
for the first time
.
He goes to refill our glasses and I grin.
***
Now
San
ta Fe is a lively city with
gaily painted hou
ses, a
Spanish/Native American culture
,
fine r
estaurants and watering holes.
Tourists seem to be dripping with heavy silver and turquoise jewelry as they thread in and out of
select
shops
and art galleries.
There
is much to see and do.
Ye
t
you can
always
escape into the mountains.
In Santa Fe I finally have
an opportunity to wear the long skirt
s
and peasant blouse
s I have
packed.
It’s
a
pleasure
ch
anging from jeans to the beige Mexican wedding dress with lace inserts I had bought recently in a trendy Hampton boutique
on Long Island
.
I decide
to wear my hair up to expose my
slender
neck and shoulders
.
For once I have
a man who would enjoy them.
With a little silver
jewelry
I am dressed for the evening.
Now it was Jays turn to say, “Wow.”