 After changing into my aquamarine bikini, I step through my patio doors onto the deck at two o'clock, novel in hand. Hearing Olga's voice drifting out of one of the windows next door, I realize that abuela must be up from her nap. They are speaking Spanish, exchanging words I don't understand. Going back inside my room, I grab my sunglasses and drape a towel around my hips before heading next door.
Knocking softly on the door, I hear abuela whisper, "Shh," then silence, before a much too cheery, "Come in." I open the door, trying to figure out what I just walked in on. Abuela is dressed and ready to go in a green bathing suit with a ruffle skirt and a big, floppy straw hat. Olga is slathering a generous covering of sunblock onto her arms and legs and before she turns to leave, she places a towel across abuela's legs. I can't help but notice when Olga squeezes out of the door past me, how she looks like the cat that just swallowed the canary.
Retrieving the bottle of pain killers from the medicine cabinet, I hand one to abuela and watch her swallow it before asking, "Ready?" She nods excitedly.
After several minutes, Olga emerges from the house and helps me slide abuela into the jacuzzi. The water, heated by the sun which is directly overhead now, begins to swirl and bubble when I press the button just below the water's surface. Before excusing herself to retrieve a pitcher of tea for us, Olga gives abuela a wink, and I wonder what these two are up to.
Underneath the water, I lift abuela's arms and legs, taking her through range of motion, and I can already tell that her flexibility has improved. I'm glad I had this idea this morning, because the hot, pulsating water seems to be having the desired effect.
Not wanting to overexert her, we take a break after about twenty minutes of exercise. I move from in front of her to sit on the step next to her. Looking up, I notice that there isn't a cloud in the sky and I lean my head back, stretching my arms out on either side of me. The brilliance of the sunlight on my face feels wonderful and I try to remember the last time this pale skin of mine has seen the light of day.
Remembering the tendency my skin has to burn very quickly, my hand gropes for abuela's bottle of sunblock that I know is on the ground somewhere within my reach, when a dark shadow is suddenly cast over my entire body. Feeling a chill that causes goose bumps to rise on my skin, my eyes fly open and I look up to see what happened to the sun. Hovering above me, I see the face of Danny Santos staring back at me. Thinking I must be dreaming, I blink twice. But he doesn't disappear. Danny Santos. An Adonis in a double-breasted suit and a pair of designer sunglasses.
As he kneels behind us, I feel the sleeve of his jacket brush the bare skin of my arm. Planting a kiss on the top of abuela's snowy white curls, I hear him whisper, "Hello abuelita," before he stands. Frozen in place, I watch as he walks to the other side of the jacuzzi to face us. "Is this what I pay you for, Ms. Bauer?" he asks, addressing me with humor in his voice and mock seriousness on his face.
"No sir," I reply, playing along. "This is what Ray pays me for." Abuela is trying without much success, to suppress a laugh, and I watch a smile curl the corner of Danny's lips as he stares at me for what feels like an eternity.
Removing his jacket and draping it over the back of one of the patio chairs, he says, "I wish I had such perks at my job."
"Yeah, I thought you had a busy day. Why are you home?" I ask, hoping that he doesn't accuse me of keeping tabs on him again, especially here in front of his grandmother. I wish that I could see his eyes, knowing that I could tell whether or not he is angry, but they remain hidden behind black lenses.
Folding his arms in front of his chest, he answers, "When I spoke to Olga during my lunch break, she said that I should be home by three o'clock to watch abuela take her first steps. I cleared my entire afternoon."
Well, at least he doesn't seem angry. Thank God for small favors. "We're going to try," I correct. "We had a tough session this morning," I say, then turning my attention to abuela, "So no promises, right?"
She nods at me and then turns to Danny, saying, "Well, it is good to have you home, son. Won't you join us? It is such a beautiful day and the water is wonderful." She glances at me and then back at Danny, waiting for his response. Suddenly, all of the winks and hushed Spanish whispers that abuela and Olga shared make perfect sense to me, and I wonder if he knows a setup we he sees it.
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he finally says, "Sure. Just let me get out of this." Loosening his tie, he walks into the cabana and shuts the door, drawing the blinds closed.
"Playing matchmaker?" I ask abuela under my breath, and she nudges my shoulder, laughing.
As if on cue, Olga arrives with a tray upon which a pitcher of tea and three tumblers sit. The little coconspirator, I think to myself. She pours the amber colored liquid into the glasses, handing one to abuela and one to me. She leaves the third one sitting on the patio table and starts to leave when I say, "Lucky thing you brought that extra glass. Danny's home from work early."
"Is he, now?" she asks, feigning surprise. An academy award winning performance.
When Olga turns to leave again, I ask, "Before you go Olga, could you hand me that bottle of sunblock?"
"Allow me," Danny says, walking from the cabana in a pair of black swimming trunks as he takes the bottle from Olga's hands. I have seen Danny in jeans, Danny in slacks, and Danny in a suit, but nothing could prepare me for the vision I see before me now. My eyes fixate on the tuft of black hair that begins above his navel and trails down, disappearing somewhere below the waistband. Somehow I manage to steal one last glance at Olga before she leaves, and she winks at me as a wicked grin plays upon her lips.
I wait for Danny to put the bottle in my outstretched hand, but he shakes his head 'no', saying, "I said... allow me." I say nothing as all rational thought goes out the door. Feeling his knees pressing into the skin between my shoulder blades as he kneels, I instinctively lay my head back against his thighs. I feel his muscles stiffen underneath my neck and I cast a sideways glance at abuela who is facing forward, pretending to doze.
"I think I put her to sleep," I whisper, looking up into Danny's beautiful face, and he smiles down at me. I watch as he squirts a liberal amount of lotion into the palm of his hand and then rubs them together. When our flesh makes contact, I feel a surge of electricity course through my body and I find myself wishing again that I could see his eyes. His fingers slip over the skin of my shoulders, hesitant at first, but then strong and sure. Pressing his thumbs into my back and making small, slow circles, I can feel the tension being kneaded away as he works.
Stopping to add more lotion to his hands, I shiver in anticipation of his touch and despite the warm temperature of the water, I feel my nipples harden. Replacing his fingers on my shoulders once again, he moves them down the length of my arms, causing the straps of my bikini top to slip down. Hooking his pinkies underneath the straps, he gingerly repositions them on my shoulders. His fingers glide over the tops of my hands, and I turn my head to the side and watch as he slips them between my fingers, interlacing them for the briefest of moments. I shift my hips beneath the water in an attempt to ease the familiar ache beginning to build between my legs. Looking up once again, I watch the rise and fall of his chest as he draws in long, deep breaths. The hot, pulsing water and Danny's fingers on my skin, transport me back to this morning's shower. Dangerous thoughts.
When his hands make one final sweep down my arms, I sit up straight, breaking contact and say, "Thank you. That's perfect."
Grabbing me by the shoulders, he pulls my body back against his knees as he whispers in my ear, "Hold on." Cradling my chin in his left hand, he tilts my head back, forcing it back against his thighs. His right hand sweeps my cheeks, forehead, and the tip of my nose before he explains, "Your face is already starting to burn."
My flushed cheeks have nothing to do with the sun, I think to myself. Instead, I manage to utter another, "Thank you."
I watch as he walks to the patio table, setting the bottle down and picking up his glass. Throwing his head back to take a long sip of tea, I am mesmerized by the bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallows. I wonder if there is anything this man could do that I wouldn't find erotic. I search my brain for anything and come up with nothing.
When he finally scoots into the warm water, relief washes over me as he takes a seat on the step opposite me. It seems that neither of us has any clue of what to say to the other, as polite chitchat is not our forte. He is the first to break the silence, asking, "So, what happened in therapy
today?"
My work is the only thing I feel completely confident in, so I don't mind answering his question. Explaining to him how abuela's muscles tensed and locked, I hear real worry etch his words as he asks about her prognosis. "Abuela has been steadily improving so far this week and this is her first setback. It's very common. No one should worry prematurely. If we have to increase the number of hours we work per day, then that's what we'll do. But I really just think it's a fluke."
"Wow. You really sound like you love your job," he says with wonder in his voice.
"Don't you love yours?" I ask innocently.
"Not really. No," he says, shaking his head from side to side.
"Then why do you do it?" I ask before I really think. Worrying that I might be overstepping my bounds once again, I add, "If you don't mind me asking."
Smiling, he insists, "No Michelle... I don't mind the question. It's a living, Michelle. Ours is a family business, so it's what's expected of me. My grandfather and father both ran Sancorp before me, so I just assumed the throne. It's my legacy. Haven't you ever felt that kind of pressure before?"
I ponder his question before answering truthfully, "Not like that... no. My father and brother are both doctors and I'm sure that they hoped that I would one day follow in their footsteps, but they respected my choices and encouraged me to pursue my own dreams. From what I can remember of my mother, she had that same attitude."
Closing half of the gap between us, he inches closer to me, putting one hand on my still submerged knee while taking off his sunglasses with the other. Turning to me with eyes so full of compassion, I feel as if I could drown in their depths, he gently squeezes my knee, saying, "I'm very sorry. You lost your mother?"
I can barely breathe and my voice cracks as I whisper, "When I was twelve... a car accident."
Removing my sunglasses as well, we draw strength from each other as our eyes make contact for the first time today. After a brief exchange of silent glances, he shares, "My parents died when I was ten."
I stamp down a desire to cradle this man against my chest as I contemplate letting him believe that this is the first I have heard this information. Still not knowing whether or not he will be angry at me or worse yet, his grandmother, for discussing such intimate details of his life, I ultimately decide that honesty is the best policy. I avert my eyes and in a barely audible whisper, say, "And your brother Miguel. I'm so very sorry. I can't imagine the pain you must have gone through to lose three people in one day."
Looking back up to gauge his reaction, I see wonder behind his eyes as he asks, "Abuela told you about the plane crash?"
Hoping that he doesn't perceive this to be a betrayal of confidence on either of our parts, I nod my head, answering, "Yes she did. We talk about a lot of things, Danny. She's a wonderful woman... I love to spend time with her."
A small smile flickers across his face as he says, "I guess you were right last night. You do know some things about me. What else do you and abuela talk about while I'm away?"
Keenly aware that he has scooted even closer to me and that his hand has inched up to rest on my thigh, I answer coyly, "Now that is between she and I." With that, I hear abuela begin to stir beside me and I glance over in enough time to see her eyes pop open.
"Boy, this water is relaxing. What are the two of you talking about?" She asks. I make a mental note to compliment her on her acting skills this afternoon.
Danny is either really dense or he is playing along with her game when he removes his hand from my body, leaning back against his own step, asking, "What do you mean abuela? You mean while you were sleeping?" Without waiting for a response, he continues, "Michelle and I were just talking about how much she adores the little chats that the two of you have. She was telling me how well the therapy is going and how you have quickly become her absolute favorite patient in her entire illustrious career."
I turn to abuela, knowing that Danny's words are true despite his attempt to embellish, and she reaches out a wet hand to stroke my cheek. "I adore Michelle, too. She is such a wonderful young woman and an excellent therapist. You know Daniel... Michelle got her degree from Springfield University, just like you." I turn my eyes to Danny and find that he is smiling at this close bond that abuela and I have formed so quickly. "In fact," abuela continues, "it seems as though SU is turning out quite a lot of talented young people these days. We will be meeting one of Michelle's best friends this weekend... Bill, isn't it? He and Michelle both graduated at the same time. I can't wait to meet him. I'm sure that if he is half as wonderful as our Michelle, he will fit right in with the family... right Daniel?"
My eyes fly to meet Danny's and he remains silent, kneading the twitching muscle in his jaw with one hand while slapping his sunglasses back on in one fluid motion with the other. I turn to abuela and stretch my eyes as wide as I can, imploring her to end this game. She understands. The three of us sit in silence for several minutes before, holding my hands up in front of my face, I say, "Well, maybe we should go back inside. I'm starting to turn into a prune."
The familiar warmth begins to flame anew at my center as, rising from the water, I feel Danny's eyes rake over the length of my body. Handing him my towel, a vision forces itself into my mind as I watch him dry his dripping arms and chest. My tongue gliding over his body, taking the place of the towel. More dangerous thoughts. Shaking my head, I accept the towel back from him and dab at the valley between my breasts. When I feel his eyes upon me again, my legs threaten to give out beneath me.
"Could you help me get abuela back into her chair?" I ask finally, wrapping the towel around my hips and knotting it on one side.
"Of course," he answers. "What should I do?"
Pointing to the wheelchair, I say, "If you could just make sure the wheels are locked, I can make the transfer."
Looking at abuela and then back at me, he inquires, "Are you sure that you can lift her all by yourself?"
Nodding, I say, "Yes Danny... I can. It's really not all that difficult. It's just a matter of displacing the weight. It's what I was taught to do."
Laughing as he pushes the chair as close to the water's edge as possible, his eyes meet mine when he says, "Oh yes... all of your extensive training and experience must have slipped my mind."
Lifting abuela almost effortlessly from the jacuzzi and placing her in the chair, I look at Danny, sticking out my tongue. I kneel in front of abuela, helping her dry her arms and legs before looking at Danny and asking jokingly, "You are never going to let me live that little comment down, are you?"
Bending over, he whispers in my ear, "Not as long as the good Lord sees fit to let me draw breath." Raising my head to look at abuela's expression, I find her smiling, and she gives me what must be the ninth wink of the day.
Walking through the front door, Danny hollers for Olga to meet us in the exercise room. Somewhere deep within the house, I hear her humming to herself, no doubt proud of the little part she played in this scheme to get Danny and me together this afternoon.
I flip the overhead light on as I push abuela to the center of the room. From behind us, I hear Danny mutter, "Jesus."
"What's the matter?" I ask.
Turning to abuela, he answers, "God Abuela. Ray really got you fixed up here. This place looks like the rehab floor at Cedars."
"You haven't been in here?" I question, intrigued.
"Not since Pilar died," he answers quickly, then finishing, "This room was always really more hers than mine. I always preferred to buy a gym membership, but she loved to workout at home." I cannot believe that Danny is able to open up enough to share this memory of Pilar with me. Looking into abuela's eyes, I see the shock that I know must mirror my own.
When Danny asks what he can do to help, I point to the walker in the far corner of the room that is leaning against one of the mirrored walls, saying, "Could you go get the walker?"
"Ready?" I ask, waiting for abuela to nod before I lift her into a standing position. Sensing her nervousness, I rub her trembling back and whisper, "If you can't do this today, we'll just try again later. Tomorrow's another day." I feel her body begin to relax in my arms.
Olga comes into the room, wiping her hands on a dish towel and asking, "What did I miss?"
"Oh... nothing much. I danced a little jig while you were gone, that's all."
The tension dies down a little and I turn my face to look at Danny, saying, "There's nothing wrong with her sense of humor." He shakes his head 'no' and smiles before I turn my attention back to abuela.
"Try shifting your weight onto your right leg, abuela," I instruct. She complies and there is no shriek of pain as she stands on her own. I send a silent prayer heavenward. Even if she can't do anything more today, this has been a victory. "Now... I'm going to move around to support you from behind while Danny sets the walker in front of you," I explain as I loosen my grip enough to change positions. Danny turns out the legs of the walker, locking them in place. He pauses briefly next to us, whispering words of encouragement in her ear while he rubs her back.
"Whenever you're ready, abuela. Remember what I told you. Start on your strong leg first." Pressed up against her back, I can feel her heart racing wildly as she looks over at Danny and Olga. I follow Danny's eyes and know instantly that he is studying the scar that runs down the side of abuela's right leg. He visibly winces and I see him lock hands with Olga for support.
Slowly, abuela slides the walker and her left foot forward, placing all of her weight on that side. She and I both inhale deeply and hold our breath while she slides the right foot forward, making sure that it is even with the left. I feel her successfully shift all of her weight onto her right leg, taking her first step in nearly seven weeks. We are all too stunned to speak as we watch her take two more small steps.
Within seconds, the room is filled with laughter and more than a few tears as we each take our turn congratulating her. From behind the wheelchair, I watch tears roll down Danny's cheeks and splash abuela's shoulders as he bends to hug her.
Not wanting to intrude on this private family moment, I hug abuela and whisper that I will see her later in her room after I've had a chance to change. As I turn to walk from the room, Danny's hand grabs my wrist, spinning me around to face him. "Wait," he beseeches, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
When I nod my head, he ushers me out into the hallway, his fingertips pressed into the small of my back. He studies my face intently, his gaze traveling from my eyes, to my lips, to my hair, and then back again. Suddenly, his hands slip around my waist and he pulls me tightly against him in a warm embrace. My breasts are crushed into the smooth skin of his flat stomach and I lay my cheek against his feverish chest, listening to the beat of his heart, pacing my own to match. Leaning his head down, he whispers in my ear, "Thank you. Thank you for helping abuela, Michelle."
I whisper into his chest, "I was just doing my job. Abuela made it happen."
Backing me up so that he can look into my eyes, he shakes his head 'no', saying, "I don't know what we would do without you."
Putting a finger to his lips, I say, pointing to the exercise room, "She made it happen. With all of her courage and determination, and with your love and support, she... made it happen."
"Thank you Michelle," he repeats.
Turning his face to meet my lips, I stand on the tips of my toes and place a delicate kiss upon his cheek before whispering, "You're welcome."
Not waiting for any type of response or reaction, I turn and walk to my bedroom. Once inside, I shut the door and lean into it for support. I know that he feels nothing for me beyond gratitude, but I couldn't help but feel cherished and adored in his embrace, just as I do in the arms of the man of my dreams. The line between fantasy and reality is forever blurred.
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