Leftovers

It looked like I arrived before him, which was fine I could use the time. My fingers grazed the chocolate honey colored logs as I walked along the plush rug. He picked the location well, the cabin was both rustic and luxurious, appealing to my sensuous and his rugged nature.

             “Hello?” I called as I opened the door to the Owner’s suite. I had known Kyan to be a clown since high school. Back then, he was the finest class clown with a B-grade point average and a football letterman jacket to tote. Now, he took himself and life more seriously. A year had passed since he left to take on his new role as an Information Security Analyst in Kansas. And despite my happiness for him, I could admit that the long distance wreaked its havoc on our relationship. The solution? To convene for a weekend in the cabins to discover what could be salvaged, if anything.

             “Kyan, don’t play with me,” I warned as I sat my bags down, “I am not in the mood.”

 I opened the door to the bathroom and closet only to discover that he wasn’t in there either. I was by myself. I sat down at the edge of the bed and slipped off my thigh-high boots. The drive wasn’t too bad, but it still did a number on my feet. I could use a foot massage. Kyan was good for that. I smiled as I recalled the fond memories that I had of him massaging my feet as I worked on my dissertation. The way he looked at me so lovingly as if he couldn’t bear to let me go. Now, a FaceTime between us felt like we were doing too much. Part of me longed to get back to where we were, similarly to a ship that had been adrift at sea for too long and desired to get back to shore. The other part, the stronger part, wanted to continue drift if for no other reason than to forget what the shore looked like. I pulled out a bottle of wine from the mini fridge and poured myself a glass.

In any case, whatever happened, happened.

                                                  ***

“Michelle!” Kyan’s voice boomed. The sound of my name roused me from my impromptu nap in the jacuzzi. The water had since lost its warmth, but it still managed to lull me to sleep. According to the doctor, I needed it. The last few weeks had been very stressful at work and although I could acknowledge that I had the mental fortitude to persist, my body demanded its own recovery.

“What?” I responded, surprised to find him standing over me with a gleaming smile and wide eyes of excitement.

“Ah, I know you missed me, girl,” he laughed as he grabbed the flesh of my cheeks, “Trying to hide them dimples from me.”

I moved his hand, “I know you missed me too.” I pulled the drain of the tub and watched as the water around me retreated. I stepped out of the tub and draped the white robe around me. “How was your drive?”

“Quick,” he responded.

I felt his eyes on me as I got dressed in the room. A strict workout regimen had given me the body that I coveted on other women for years and I adorned it proudly in tailored suits, the finest of silk dresses, and the most revealing of jeans. I lathered the whipped almond and shea butter in my hands and used it to moisturize my chestnut colored skin.

“So, what’s been up with you?” I asked, breaking the silence between us.

He sighed, “Just work. It’s been busy, but good. Word is that they are looking to move me up to a senior role,” he said, “I can help you with your back.”

“That’s great.” As much as I wanted to deny him, I couldn’t resist. I held out the container for him and closed my eyes as he began to work it into my shoulders.

 “Damn you’re tense,” he said. “Is it work?”

 Yes, work had come with its own share of problems these past few weeks and so had other areas of my life. My aunt had been diagnosed with cancer and mom was having a hard time dealing with it. She and I had gone through a rift not that long ago. I wasn’t making enough time for her and worst of all, I managed to make my new stepfather feel terrible by consistently not acknowledging his presence whenever I went home to visit. Of course, Kyan wouldn’t know that because those are topics that I chose not to talk to him about, I left those conversations for the space that me and Micah, a long-time coworker of mine, shared together.

“Something like that.” I told him.

                                              ***

The relationship between Micah and I intensified not too long after Kyan left. I never felt any guilt about it since it blossomed so organically and effortlessly. We hadn’t slept together…yet. But I felt a closeness with him that I could swear on the stand testify was never there with Kyan. Perhaps, we had outgrown each other. What I did feel guilty about was the impression that I gave Micah about Kyan. He believed Kyan and I were through. For instance today, Micah believed that I was attempting to patch things up with my parents. It was almost dinner time. He would call me soon.

“What’s for dinner?” Kyan asked as he walked into the kitchen. His white T-shirt and gray sweatpants were water-stained from his wet dreadlocks.

I grabbed my phone from the counter and placed it into my side pocket, “I picked up some potatoes, asparagus and salmon on my way over. It’ll be ready soon.”

He stood alongside me as I seasoned the fish, “Need some help? It’s been a while since I helped you in the kitchen.” I caught the scent of his deodorant, Light Blue, I recalled. I bought it for him after Senior night in high school.  I didn’t have time for the fleeting thoughts, if he wanted to fix things we needed to talk about them.

“Nope, I’m good,” I put the salmon in the oven and set the timer. “Have you thought about our relationship?” I asked, putting distance between him and myself as I made my way to the living area.

“To be honest, not really,” he responded. “But it seems like you’ve made up your mind. You haven’t hugged or kissed me since I got here.” He sat on the armchair across from me, “You might have more answers than me at this point.”

The distinct feeling of my phone buzzing pulled my attention away. I looked at the clock. Micah would be getting ready to walk his dog now. He was a man of routine. I gained my composure in time to watch Kyan bite his lip in annoyance.

“You know what’s funny?” he asked. “The whole time on the ride over here I was thinking about the way we would make Hummingbird cake on Sundays and eat it while we watched ‘The Bachelor’. You remember that?”

The sound of my phone vibrating from my back pocket filled the pocket of silence between us. I should’ve shut it off. I knew better. The phone fumbled onto the floor as I tried to retrieve it from my pocket.

“Damn,” I said as I retrieved it. “It’s just work,” I assured him. “I’ll call them back.”

             The timer beeped signaling the completion of the salmon.

             “I…umm, remember that,” I smiled, “Grandma’s recipe.”

I walked to the kitchen to turn off the timer and pulled the salmon out of the oven. We used to eat cake and watch ‘The Bachelor’ as we connected through soft kisses, hushed words, and gentle touches through the night. If I thought hard enough, I could almost smell the fresh cotton of our duvet as we wrapped ourselves in it against the chill of our bedroom. It was a ceremonial experience for us.  I hadn’t indulged in the cake since he left. I hadn’t even thought about making it for Micah. A feeling of sudden dread washed over me.

“Think we can make it tonight?” He asked hopefully.

A tear found its way down my cheek, “No, we can’t,” I said a low whisper, “I think I forgot how.”