Page 89 of The Starfish Sisters

Suze

Joel and I sleep tangled like kittens, both Yul Brynner and Maui finding their way onto the big bed with us at some point.

When I wake up, milky light is coming through the windows. Joel’s arm is flung around my waist, and his thighs shape themselves to the back of mine. I can feel the soft exhale of his breath against my neck, whispery and warm. My hand is curled around his, and Yul Brynner is purring on my pillow, and I don’t move a single muscle because I never want to leave this moment.

I breathe it in. Now. This. Joel. My body sore from making love all night, both of us greedy and going back to the well until we were shaking with weariness. We both fell, laughing, to the pillows in the end. “I remember a day,” he said.

“Oh, me too.” I brushed hair from his face. “Once upon a time when we were young.”

“I could never go back, be seventeen again. Could you?”

“No way. It was awful.”

He leaned in and kissed me, very gently. “You’re even more beautiful now.”

“That’s a lie, but thank you.”

“No, it’s not.” He brushed my crow’s-feet, the lines showing up around my chin that surprised me. “You have depth and wisdom now.”

“Well,” I said, “I don’t know about you having more depth and wisdom, but you are still absurdly hot.”

He laughed and pulled me to his shoulder and we crashed, both of us exhausted.

Now I can smell him, his hair and his skin, the faint lingering notes of aftershave he wore for me. I can feel him. I can hear his breath, a slight snore.

That stops. His hand tightens around my breast, and I feel his lips on my shoulder. “Good morning.”

“Do you want some coffee?”

“Are you having tea? I can try some tea.”

“No way, dude.” I turn to face him. “I’m going to make you some amazing coffee and we can drink it out on the deck looking at the ocean, just like we always said we would.”

He smiles. “Did you ever think for one single minute that you would actually live in this house?”

“I didn’t even have a context for imagining it.”

“What can I do?”

“Cook me breakfast?”

He laughs. “I can make toast.”

We get up and slip into clothes, and carry blankets out with us to the deck, wrapping ourselves together as we watch the seabirds look for breakfast. Neither of us speaks, but I feel the wondering beneath our silence. “So, do you have a girlfriend?” I ask, lightly, tapping his toe with mine.

“No,” he says. “I haven’t had for a long time. You?”

“No girlfriend or boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend? Did you have girlfriends?”

I lift my shoulders. “Sometimes.” I sip my oolong, thick with milk. “Dmitri was the main person in my life. He was a good guy.”

“The director, right?”

“Yeah.”

He’s quiet for a while. “Did you want kids?”