As we reach the sand, I automatically discard my flip flops to walk barefoot.
“It’s not actually sand,” he says, “It’s ground coral. That is why it’s not hot on your feet.”
“Really,” I replied. I, myself, would never thought of this detail but he is forever logical.
I sifted the ground coral between my French-manicured toes, luxuriating in the feel of it; warm, not hot. We find a couple of lounge chairs near the edge of the sand close to the rocks and somewhat removed from the other resort guests. We recline our chairs and ease into them, the warm ocean breeze pressing down upon us and the frosty, watered-down resort Pina Coladas within easy reach.
“You know,” he says in his logical voice, “This is an international resort and there are quite a few Europeans here. I’ve noticed a lot more people smoking and some of the women are going topless on this beach.”
He had been walking this morning while I lazed in bed, tired from the flight and the weeks of wedding planning.
“Hmm,” I say, already sinking into that lazy, sun-kissed stupor that is only achieved with that delicate balance of tropical sun and tropical rum, “What are you suggesting?”
“Well, I wasn’t suggesting anything but, now that you mention it, if you have ever wanted to go topless, now might be the time to try it,” he says, logically.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t take any further prompting. Why not? I don’t know anybody here and we are far enough away from everyone else on the beach.
I reach to the back of my neck to undo the halter strap of my bikini top and then arch my back and reach behind me to undo the clasp. I pull it away and drop the gauzy bit of fabric to the ground. Not too far. I might need it in a hurry.
Then I lay back to bask in the warmth of the sun and the warmth of my husband’s gaze. I have never before felt more at ease in my own skin as I do at this moment.
I think, perhaps, he is a little shocked that I have actually removed my bikini top, but he goes with it.
“You are a goddess,” he says, illogically.
And truly, I feel like one.
This was the RemembeRED prompt over at The Red Dress Club:
So this week, we want you to write about sand.
Yes…sand.
It doesn’t have to be summer-related.
