I let her walk away, happy to be caged in his embrace. It’s such a relief to have his arms around me again, I feel split between laughing and crying.
“You came back,” I marvel, quaking.
“I just had to pick something up. And Tabby. She seems nice.”
“She’s wonderful,” I agree.
“Oh… Dammit! Owwww!” Tabby exclaims from the tarmac.
I follow her, hurrying with concern. She leans over with one foot extended, twisting her ankle carefully. Her gold sandal flaps at an angle from the bottom of her foot. Yet another casualty in the continual search for gold sandals.
“I just bought these!” she pouts, discouraged.
“Can you put your weight on it?” Giorgio asks, appearing suddenly at her side.
Tabby holds her hair back with both hands and squints up at him, her lips pursed as she winces. She balances on one foot.
“Oh, don’t mind me!” she objects. “I’m fine. Just clumsy. Just silly old me!”
“Don’t walk on it; you’ll make it worse,” Giorgio scowls.
He reaches underneath her and scoops her up off her feet. Tabby gasps, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he carries her to the back seat of the golf cart. She glances at me over his shoulder, making a comical face of surprise and alarm.
“Interesting…” Irving murmurs as we follow behind.
Giorgio fusses over Tabby, making sure her seatbelt is buckled snugly over the width of her hips. She blushes from the tip of her nose to somewhere deep inside her silky camisole. Every time she tries to talk, she cuts herself off by starting to giggle instead.
“We should keep this elevated,” he murmurs as he cradles her ankle between his laced fingers.
“I’ll drive,” Irving offers gamely. “Opal? You ready?”
I try to suppress a smirk as Giorgio slides in next to Tabby, carefully placing her ankle across his lap to elevate it.
“I am ready,” I confirm.
I can’t look at Irving as we drive back to the resort. I know exactly what he is thinking. Whatever is going on in the back seat, it is something amazing. I can feel it in the air. It was an almost audible click. It takes everything I have not to turn around and watch it all unfold.
Tabby? And Giorgio?
But Irving is suddenly serious again as we near the resort. He floors the electric-powered golf cart, sending us quickly over the subtle hills of the gardens. When we reach the front door, he pauses to turn toward me. To my surprise, he takes my hand in his and squeezes it briefly before stepping out of the driver’s seat. I’m delighted to see that the walls still haven’t gone back up. He is really here, connected with me. The man I admired from a distance for so long. A swelling of simple, happy thoughts takes me over.
“Are you… Is everything all right?” I manage to murmur without bursting into peals of laughter.
“Everything is… will be perfect,” he answers simply, with absolute conviction.
“But you left,” I persist. “I wasn’t sure… I mean, I didn’t know what to think.”
“I just had to clear my head,” he explains gently.
“And?”
I search his face. His expression is frank and earnest. He is looking right at me—right into me—without obstruction. I can practically feel his thoughts vibrating alongside my own.
“And my mind is clear,” he finishes with a smile.
I believe it.
“Right!” he announces. “Let’s go see what Veronica is cooking up, shall we?”