Musings
“My muse needed a break; so I sent her vacationing in Cancun Mexico.”
At least that’s what I told my friends when they asked why I hadn’t done any writing for the past three months. In the past eighteen months, I had written two novels and been on a ten-state publicity tour for them. I had been trying to come up with another idea but every time I sat down at my computer my mind went blank. Maybe I was the one who needed to go to Cancun. A quick call to my travel agent, and I was on my way.
It was my last day at the Mexican resort. I had spent nine days enjoying the sunshine, drinking Pina Coladas, and watching the pretty girls but still not coming up with any ideas. Then I saw her sitting at the outdoor bar.
She was in her early to mid-twenties with long shapely legs, dark hair falling halfway down her back, a waist I expected I could span with my hands, breasts neither babe nor lover would ever find fault with, warm brown skin and a face that would make angels weep with envy. I had been watching her for the past hour, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. During that time half a dozen young men approached her and all of them had been rebuffed.
Physically she was the exact opposite of Kelly. It had been fifteen years since my wife died but like a ghost, her memory still haunted me. Every time I tried to start a relationship with another woman, memories of Kelly got in the way.
Like I said, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, and eventually, our eyes met. When they did she smiled. Not a come-on smile, but the type of smile you see when you encounter an old friend you hadn’t seen in some time. My legs went into autopilot and I found myself walking towards her.
“I wondered how long it would take before you came over to see me,” she said
To my surprise, her accent wasn’t Mexican. I could tell English wasn’t her native tongue but couldn’t place where she came from. I looked into her eyes. They were a deep dark brown, endless pools, the type a man could drown in.
“Hello, I asked how long you were going to be here.”
I pulled myself out of the brown lakes that were her eyes and tried to make intelligent conversation. I learned she was one of nine sisters and been raised in southern Europe but left ‘a long time ago’. I couldn’t help smile at that. To a girl her age ‘a long time ago’ meant anything more than ten years ago. I was better than twice her age; to me, it had only been yesterday when Kelly died.
As we talked she began to talk to me about my books. She seemed surprisingly knowledgeable about them especially since she admitted she never read any of them but was familiar with them since she worked in the writing field. I couldn’t get her to give me any more information than that. She seemed a bit embarrassed talking about the subject. I let it drop assuming she was part of the secretarial pool working for my publishing company. Before long I was talking to her about my recent bout of writers’ block and some of the ideas I had but didn’t seem to be able to do anything with.
That night to my joy and amazement we ended up in my room. Normally the first time I make love to a woman it is somewhat clumsy until our bodies get used to each other, but we came together as if we had been lovers for years, our bodies moving in rhythm with none of the usual awkwardness. We fell asleep in each other’s arms, completely spent and still joined together. For the first time in months, my dreams weren’t haunted by memories of Kelly.
I awoke the next morning alone, but my mind was clear and I knew when I returned home I would be able to write again. But now another woman would haunt my dreams. I headed into the bathroom to shower and shave before I caught my plane back to the States. When I walked into the bathroom I stopped and stared at the mirror. There was a note written in lipstick on it.
The note said “Cancun was nice but next time let’s do the Bahamas. Love Thalia”