Honeymoon

Last night. I'm finishing up a few things on the computer. Tab asks if I am almost done.

"Just a minute. I want to send a message to my notify list," I answer.

"Tell them I'm lighting some candles and running the water in the bathtub."

I laugh and continue writing my email.

"Hurry up, Els," Tab calls from the bathroom. "The water is getting cold."

"You mean you weren't kidding?" I turn off the computer and go looking for him.

Sure enough, the bathroom is dim, lit only by two flickering, tall, red candles. Tab is already in the filled tub, waiting for me. I join him there, not an easy feat since our tub is small, Tab is tall, and I'm not exactly a featherweight. I manage to position myself comfortably, leaning back against his chest. I relax into the embrace of the warm water and watch the dancing patterns of candlelight and shadow play across the bathroom wall.

"This is nice," I sigh. "Remember that inn we stayed at in Charlottesville on our honeymoon? The one with the big, claw-footed tub right in the bedroom?"

"And you got tipsy on wine and I had my way with you."

"That was good wine," I recall. "I think it was from their own vinyard."

"You were wearing that black negligée you'd bought for the trip."

"You remember that? I'm impressed."

"I remember everything about that night. I remember the four-poster bed was so high we practically needed a ladder to climb into it."

"Remember you had a nightmare and started screaming? And I had to wake you up before you scared the innkeeper or the other guests."

"I was yelling, 'Help me! Help me!' "

I laugh. "They were probably thinking, 'What is that bride doing to that poor man?' "

I close my eyes and subside into blissful awareness of the warmth of the water around me, the strength of Tab's body behind me, and the feeling of his hands moving over me.

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