“Where are we?” I asked.
“A place with pretty good Bahamian food, casual, and not a lot if people,” she said. “My apartment. Come on in. I prepared something last night. I just need to warm it up.” I hesitated. “Come on. You don’t need to be in a crowd and you don’t need to be alone in your hotel room. If you want to talk I’m a good listener. If you don’t want to talk you’ll still get a good meal.”
She made a lot of sense. I followed her up to the east facing apartment on the second floor. She unlocked the door walked in, I followed shutting the door behind me. She looked around and shrugged. She set her things on the table in the dining area at the far end on the main room. She pointed at a chair at one side of the table.
“Sit here, so we can talk without shouting while I heat things up,” she ordered.
She walked into the kitchen. I sat down. I heard the refrigerator open and then pans being set on the stove. I heard the water running filling a container. When the water stopped I saw the head of a black cat poke around the corner of the doorway that led to the bedroom. We looked at each other for a short time before I turned away. From my experience with my own cat I knew most cats did not like being stared at. I watched the cat out of the corner of my eye. It crept out into full view.
“How are you doing?” asked Cinnamon from the kitchen.
“Fine,” I answered but not too loudly. “You have a very nice apartment.”
“Thank you! I like it,” she replied.
The cat had been stealthily moving toward me, but stopped when I spoke.
“Would you like some limeade?” Cinnamon asked.
“Yes that would be wonderful,” I replied.
The cat continued to move toward me and was now smelling my socks. I have a cat at home, so her cat may have picked up my cat’s scent. If I left the sock drawer open I would usually find my cat sleeping on my socks. Her cat was now rubbing against my legs, either a sign of acceptance or marking territory. I tapped my fingers on my lap and the cat jumped up. I stated scratching it under the chin and the side of the face. It began purring.
Cinnamon came around the corner stopped and said, “Wow Char does not usually get near strangers. You must be a good guy.”
“I love cats. I have one of my own named Shadow,” I said.
She set the glass of limeade on the table and went back to the kitchen. Char watched her, but did not move.
“Would you like wine with dinner? I have a good Pinot Noir,” she asked from the kitchen.
“Sounds great!” I responded.
“The bottle is over on the shelf on the wall. There is a corkscrew in the drawer below it,” she said.
I put Char on one of the chairs at the table. Found the correct bottle. I grabbed 2 glasses and the corkscrew and placed them all in front of Char. Cinnamon came in with plates, napkins and silverware and put them at the other end of the table.
“Everything should be ready in about 10 minutes,” she said going back into the kitchen.
I put the plates, silverware, and napkins in front of 2 chairs across from each other near the end where Char was sitting. Char was silently watching the activities. Cinnamon brought in a loaf of unsliced bread with a bread knife. She smiled when she saw I had set the table. I popped the cork and poured 2 glasses of wine. Next she came out with a large bowl of white rice. This was followed by a larger pot which was steaming. Whatever it was it smelled great. Char must have agreed her nose was up in the air taking in the aroma.
“This is stewed fish. It has carrots, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and of course fish,” Cinnamon explained.
She sat and took a couple of heaping spoons of the rice and then topped in with the stew. I did the same. She took a small piece of carrot and mashed it on a small plate, she did the same with potato, and fish. Char patiently watched with definite interest. She moved the plate to the floor and Char joined it.
“I give her a little taste,” said Cinnamon. “She never comes up on the table, so I like to reward her.”
The meal was terrific, delicious, and well seasoned. We drank wine as we ate. I took a second helping and contemplated a third. We spoke during the meal. I told her about me and my family.
“I am 24. I live in Minnesota. I Have 2 younger sisters and a younger brother. I have finished my under-graduate degree and have been accepted into a veterinary college program. I will be starting my 3rd year in the fall. I am currently working in a veterinarian’s clinic as an assistant as many hours as I can. I have a small apartment near campus. I live there with my cat, Shadow.” I told her. I refilled our wine glasses.
Cinnamon told me about herself. She said, “I am 25. I grew up in Wisconsin near Madison.”
This explained her accent. She had a Midwestern accent modified with an English-Caribbean accent.
Cinnamon continued, “I have one sister, a twin. I graduated college with a bachelor’s degree in Business Management. In my senior year there was a posted opportunity for a job with advancement to hotel management in the Bahamas. I and dozens of my classmates applied. Three of us were selected to be interviewed. The like to have Americans at the hotel because of the number of American tourists. They picked me. I Have been here a little over a 2 years. I like the work, but it has been kind of lonely. I’ve tried dating, but most of the guys are only interested in one thing.”
She stopped and sighed, then she began clearing the table. I got up to help. She objected.
“If I help we can get back to our conversation sooner,” I explained.
She nodded her agreement. She put away the leftovers. We washed the dishes, setting them out to dry.
We sat back at the table. Cinnamon sat in the chair Char had previously been in. I again refilled our wine glasses. Cinnamon put her hand on mine. Her hand was soft and warm.
“Tell me more about Debby,” she said.
I decided to tell her the whole story. “Debby and I knew each other since the first grade. In second grade her parents decided to get divorced. I was there and comforted her during the early days. She ended up moving to Chicago with her father. She was there for a little over 6 years. Her father had a heart attack and died. Debby then moved back to live with her mother just before our freshman year in high school. We dated throughout high school and college. We had our first sexual experience with each other,” I said then paused.
I didn’t believe I had just said this to a stranger. Cinnamon squeezed my hand.
“Please continue,” she encouraged.
“About a year after we both completed our bachelor degrees, I asked Debby to marry me. We set the date about a year out. We had completed most of our plans and preparations,” I said and paused.
Again Cinnamon squeezed my hand. She looked at me sympathetically. She nodded to me to continue.
I continued, “About a month before our wedding date Debby died in a car accident. After the funeral I withdrew into myself. I went back to work but there was no joy, no interest, and I kept losing my concentration. After a couple of days the head vet suggested I get away. That’s when I decided to take the trip I already had planned.”
“I am sorry. I wish there was some I could say or do,” Cinnamon said.
We sat in silence for several minutes.
“Would you like to play some games?” asked Cinnamon.
“Sure,” I responded.
She went into her bedroom. I thought I heard her talking. After a few minutes she emerged with a cribbage board and a deck of cards.
“Cribbage or Gin?” she asked.
“Let’s start with gin,” I suggested.
We played gin for quite some time. We talked and laughed as the night progressed. She definitely beat me at gin. We switched over to Cribbage. I won the first game. Cinnamon won the second game. It came down to the third game. I got lucky and ended up skunking her.
“I’ve met my match,” she said looking at the clock. “Oh my! It’s gotten late. I have to be at work tomorrow. It will get pretty late if I take you back to the hotel and then come back.”
I knew it was only about 20 minutes to go to the hotel and back. I suspected something was up.
“Would you like to spend the night?” she questioned.
I looked over at the furniture in the living room. The sofa was more of a love seat, not big enough to sleep comfortably on. She noticed me looking around.
“The only place I have to sleep is on the bed. It’s a queen so there is plenty of room,” she said. “We are both adults, it will be fine.”
I hesitated then agreed. She picked up the game, went to the kitchen and put water and food down for the cat. She locked the doors and turned out the lights, leaving only the bedroom light on. She walked to the bedroom, I followed. She grabbed her hairbrush, then sat on the edge of her bed and started brushing her hair. I watched for a few seconds then went over and sat next to her. I put my hand around her hand with the brush.
“May I?” I asked.
She handed the brush to me. I began brushing her hair. I had brushed Debby’s hair several times. Long gentle strokes through her shimmering hair. When she was satisfied she stood up and went into the bathroom. She returned after a short time. My jaw dropped. She was completely naked. I starred surprised and with appreciation. I felt some stirring between my legs.
“You’re staring again,” she giggled.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be sorry, it’s a compliment. I sleep in the nude,” she explained.
I gulped and choked out, “I u.usually do t.too.”
“No need to change that on my account,” she said with a huge smile on her face.
I stepped into the bathroom. Washed up a little, then removed my clothes and put them in a pile next to her clothes. I looked in the full length mirror on the back of the door. I had torn the ACL in my right knee during my sophomore year of college basketball. It had been repaired, but my playing days were over. I kept in good shape with other activities. I walked back into the bedroom. Cinnamon had gotten into bed and covered herself with a sheet. The lights were off except for a lamp on Cinnamon’s side of the bed. She looked at me intently and smiled.
“You’re staring,” I said whimsically.
“I’m sorry,” she said giggling.
Leave a Reply