“I couldn’t sleep last night,”
Cheryl said, when I arrived.
Grabbing her heavy bag, I said,
“You can nap on the plane.”
“What if this doesn’t work out?
What if we don’t like each other?”
I sang a few bars of
“Que sera, sera…”
“I don’t like to fly,”
she said, squirming in her window seat.
I clasped her hand
“If you get anxious, I’m right here.”
“This airport is crowded and muggy,”
Cheryl grumbled, as we waited for our luggage.
I picked up her bag,
“The limo is air-conditioned.”
“This resort is fancier than I expected,
I may not have brought the right clothes.”
I slipped my arm through hers.
“We can go shopping together.”
“I’m afraid I look fat,”
Cheryl muttered, eyeing bikini-clad girls.
I put my arm around her
“I love the way you look.”
“Our suite is wonderful,”
she beamed, giving me a hug.
“Special vacation for a special lady.”
“I’ll slip into something comfortable,”
Cheryl chortled, taking off her clothes.
My heart pounded,
“I’m glad you’re relaxing.”