Timothy smiled, but it was a thin and rather brief reaction as he recalled those monkeys. “At least take one of the guards with you, even on the ship. Please.”
Bob was standing overly close. It was obvious that he was listening. His eyes were round and staring. Not upset about the spat Timothy and I were having, but worried, I guess, about the outcome.
Terry, always the calmer of the two, was sitting down on one of the lounge chairs on the open patio. He was watching us, like Bob, but he was the more patient and calm of the two. He would wait to see what Timothy wanted him to do. But, from the look on his face, I think, Terry was probably wondering how to intercede, or if he should.
“We’re not arguing, I told the two of them. Not exactly. Timothy was just explaining how I’m a four year old child who needs constant supervision.”
Okay, so that wasn’t really fair, but . . .
Bob gasped. Terry nodded and said. “Fine, then Bob and I will return to our room while you two finish your discussion. We will hope you solve this problem. Boss, Penelope,” Terry said, giving each of us a formal nod as he stood up and headed for the door.
Bob’s eyes flitted back and forth between Terry’s exit and our agitation, but then he shrugged and followed after his buddy.
“My bride bites,” Timothy said, then swooped me up in his arms and began carrying me up the stairs.
That was not the way to settle this argument, and I should have demanded that Timothy put me down, except it reminded me of Rhett Butler in Gone With the Wind. Rhett had carried Scarlet up the staircase and romanced her so well that the next morning she was smiling.
The three of us girls had gone to see the movie, just before Sammy had to depart for Bakersfield, and Cara took off to live in an artist’s commune. But in that final celebratory send off, we had all agreed that Rhett carrying Scarlet up those stairs was the most romantic scene of any movie ever.
Because of that, what could I say? My Timothy was every bit as sexy as Rhett Butler. So instead of fighting him, I wrapped my hands around his neck (No, not to choke him, but to hold on.) And when Timothy reached the top of the staircase and was still not the least bit out of breath, I half-way swooned like Scarlet might have if we’d seen that part.
Timothy had done all the work, but my heart was the one pumping double time, and I was ready to hop back into bed — only not to sleep.
Timothy continued on, carrying me into our fancy room, then set me down on the bed.
I hoped Timothy hadn’t caught the Rhett Butler image I was thinking about, but it was too late to worry about that. My clothes were soon tossed on a chair, his followed, and then we used up a big chunk of time practicing how to be newlyweds.
My desire to be let off the leash, kind of fizzled out. In fact, in the middle of love-making, one has a tendency to forget absolutely anything else. It’s rather marvelous.