Page 12 of Killing Them Softly

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"Yeah, well, to be honest with you, Avonte, I did have a romantic day planned. But when I woke up this morning, Taye was gone, again, and I haven’t seen her all day."

"What’s up with you guys anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you said yesterday that you’ve spent more time with me than you have with her, and here we are again. So what’s the deal?"

Devin took a deep breath, and then he told me his story. He went into this sad story about how they had lost two babies, and the effect that had on his wife and their marriage.

"I can’t even imagine what that must feel like," I said, as we walked along the beach together. I don’t know how far or how long we walked, because I enjoyed the conversation so much. Like everything else in my life, conversation, or more to the point, conversation with a man other than Tyrone, was non-existent. Devin told me what he did for a living and where he worked. I purposely told him very little about myself. I felt like if I started talking about my life, that I would start to cry. "So, Devin, tell me about this romantic day you had planned for wifey?" I asked when we got back to the hotel.

"We’re doing the first part of it. I had planned to take a walk along the beach, some good conversation, maybe play in the water. Then I was thinking about wandering around old San Juan. Maybe even hire a car and go out to the areas that most tourists don’t see."

"You mean the stuff that you don’t get on the packaged sightseeing tour?"

"Exactly." Devin smiled at me, and it had the same effect it had on me the last time. "Then after a fine meal, I wanted to top off the evening with a horse and buggy ride in the moonlight."

"Well, I may not be your wife . . ." I began.

"Taye."

Whatever. ". . . But, I’m not doing anything, and I would hate to see a great plan go to waste."

"You serious?"

"Don’t I look serious?" I stopped and held out my arms for effect. Devin looked me over for a second or two longer than I thought he should.

"Avonte, you’re a very serious woman."

"Give me a few minutes to change, and I’ll meet you in the lobby," I told Devin.

"Sounds good."

After a quick change, I met Devin in the lobby. I looped my arm in my escort’s arm, and we caught a cab to San Juan’s Old City.

Even though I said I didn’t want to, we took the walking tour. We walked behind the crowd. So far behind that we lost them at Fuerte San Felipe del Morro or El Morro Fortress. By the time we came out of the Cathedral de San Juan, we had lost the tour entirely. "I really did want to go to La Muralla."

"What’s that?" Devin asked in a tone that let me know that he was less than enthusiastic about doing more sightseeing.

"La Muralla is the City Wall," I said all bright and bubbly. "It’s a city by the bay that they built a wall around."

"Okay, let’s go," Devin said, and checked his watch. We got directions and found our way along the curve of the bay that led to La Muralla. It was completed in 1782 to protect the city against enemy attacks.

At that point, I had done enough walking for one vacation, so we went for drinks at a little place called La Bombonera. Devin and I talked for hours while we drank and dined on rice with squid, roast leg of pork, seafood asopao, and pineapple pie for dessert.

The sun was going down when we left La Bombonera. Devin, as he’d done throughout the day, checked his watch. "Do you have to go?" I asked, hoping he’d say no, and wondering how far I was willing to take this with a married man.

I could tell by the way he talked about her that he still loved her. But she seemed to be pushing him away, driving a wedge between them. Along with his love I could feel his anger at her; anger for something that wasn’t her fault. His wife made him feel unwanted. I knew what that felt like. I felt pretty unwanted, too. Maybe that’s why I could feel his pain. It made me want him.

"Even if I did, I don’t want to," Devin said.

"So, what should we do now?"

"How adventurous are you feeling, Avonte?"

"I’m ready for whate

ver—within reason, of course."


Tags: Roy Glenn Crime