Description
If the splendid afternoon had been food, Helena could best describe it as delicious. After swimming in the open sea, she navigated the Albatross further up the coastline to a special place where seals congregated to bask in the sunlight. Yet all wonderful things must eventually come to an end. Upon their arrival back at the lighthouse causeway, she busied herself with preparation for the sail home and avoided direct eye contact with Alexander. The mere thought of saying goodbye to him, even for a few hours, broke her heart. And when the time arrived, as they stood facing each other, the moment she dreaded came too quickly.
“Stay,” Alexander blurted out, a slight tone of panic in his voice.
Helena found the courage to look directly at his face. She recognized the desire in his eyes for her as if her own eyes were reflecting back to her. His bare chest heaved under his unbuttoned linen shirt. With his hands shaking at his sides, he stepped barefoot toward her and swallowed hard in waiting for her reaction.
The warmth of the smile she cast to him silenced his rampant anxiousness. His charming grin had returned. He reached for the satchel of food she held and then entwined his fingers with hers. Hand-in-hand, they returned to the lighthouse. Every other step, Alexander stole glances at her as if making certain that she was real and would not vanish.
Having swam in the open sea, they had kissed several times, yet did not cross the romantic boundary; both crowded the line off. Helena understood her own yearning for him to make love to her. She sensed the same in him regarding his own desires. What she appreciated most was his endearing shyness over the brazen masculinity of a young man who had stolen and then broken her heart two years earlier. The wound of that young man’s callousness toward her had not fully healed.
When they reached the living quarters, for a moment they stood silently opposite each other. Alexander struggled at first to speak, but then found his words.
“You frighten me in the most sublime way,” he admitted and glanced away as if embarrassed by his confession. “I want… I mean… I have never—”
Helena placed a finger to his lips to silence his distress. He exhaled deeply and then watched as she placed her hands on his chest. Touching the sides of his linen shirt, she eased it off his shoulders to let it fall to the floor.
“I want to make love to you,” she whispered to him. “But not yet.”
“Why?”
It was she who struggled to speak. What he whispered next surprised her with his perception.
“What was his name, the man who broke your heart?”
“Reginald.”
“Did you love him?”
“I thought I did.”
“And where is he?”
“He left,” was all Helena could offer for an answer.
“I understand,” Alexander said to her. “I will not leave you,” he insisted.
“Would you hold me?” she asked.
“Always.”
Alexander led her to his bed. He scooted on first and made room for her. Helena melted into his strong arms and pressed her head to his chest. She then watched as he reached for his father’s journal. He opened the cover and paged to where he had left off. With enough light flooding in through the window, Alexander began to read aloud, embracing his father’s written words to breathe life into the mysterious accounting of his father’s life.
