The Hermit

"How come you know all this?" I'm trying to be sarcastic, but she doesn't take it that way. She looks at the horizon again.

"I don't know, I guess I just do." She smiles a rueful little smile, then turns back toward me.

"Go ahead. What happened next?" I take a deep breath and tell her how my world ended.

"It starts off like such a cliché, I'm almost ashamed to tell you. It was snooker night with my buddies, but the power went out in the pool hall. They wanted to go out drinking instead, but I thought time home with my wife sounded like more fun. I went home, and found candlelight and soft music in our apartment. It was one of our special things to do, you know: one of my buddies must have alerted Julia I was coming home early.

"I followed the candles to our big bathtub. She was there, alright, with that happy just-fucked look on her face, exchanging kissy faces and soap bubbles with some guy. I stood there watching them, wondering how to get their attention. All I could think of was to clear my throat.

"That's where the cliché ended. They both turned to look at me, but neither of them seemed upset; they were both smiling at me. A soapy male hand extended itself toward me, and the guy said 'Hi, I'm Andy. Nice to finally meet you.' As the suds subsided, I could see he was cuddled up with my wife, their arms around each other.

"About then it hit me what I was really seeing: the end of my marriage. The end of my lifelong love. I just stood there, feeling shell shocked, desperately trying not to bawl like a baby. The two lovers looked at me with comfortable sympathy. I guess the bath water hadn't gotten cold yet.

"'Mark, don't take it so hard. It's no big deal. I still love you like always; this is no threat to you, or to our marriage. Nothing needs to change at all.'

"She might have been talking Icelandic for all the sense she was making. 'You mean you plan to continue this?'

"'Of course, Mark. I love you both. I'm sorry you found out this way, but it was going to happen anyway, so maybe this is for the best. I'm glad you've met Andy; I think you'll like him.'

"I had no idea what to say, so I just stood there. Mistaking my dumbfounded silence for approval, Julia smiled and went on.

"'You see, Mark, I've discovered that I love two men. Andy's already accepted it, and I know you will too, when you see how happy we all are. You're my husband, so of course you'll have me most of the time, though now that you know, I'll spend a few nights with Andy. I'll do that when you're out with your buddies; you won't even miss me. Of course when we decide to start a family, he'll have to wear a condom so we'll know the children are yours, right Andy?' Andy nodded enthusiastically. 'So you see, Mark, our marriage will be stronger, and everything will work out fine.'

"'What about your promise to be faithful?'

"'Oh, that. Well, I guess I was a little hasty. Besides, I hadn't met Andy yet.'

"'That excuses your breaking your promise?'

"'Oh, Mark, don't be so melodramatic. Think about it. Andy and I have been seeing each other for over two months. Have you gotten any less love from me? Less affection, or less sex? No, you've actually had better sex since I've been seeing Andy, and you know it. He's not your competition, Mark. You see, Andy is the artistic type, unpredictable, spontaneous, the opposite of you. You're the better lover, because you know me so well, but I enjoy him too, because he surprises me. I love you, Mark; you aren't losing me. This doesn't have to be a big deal unless you make it one.'

"She'd had an affair for two months, and I never knew it. She wasn't sorry; she just demanded that I accept it. Her promise of fidelity was worthless. I could feel the hurt start to penetrate my heart, as I looked at my smiling wife and her lover.

"'What if I don't go along?' She still smiled, but the smile had an edge to it now.

"'I hate to tell you this, Mark, because I love you and I hope this never happens, but you need to know. If you divorce me over this, I have to protect us. Andy and me, you know. I'll make sure I get at least half of everything you have. I don't want to, but I will if I have to.'

"'Mark, don't look so sad. Remember I've loved you since I was six. It shouldn't be that hard a choice: keep enjoying everything you have now, including your loving wife, or lose me, your home, and half of everything you own.' She and lover boy smiled their warmest smiles at me, inviting me to accept my betrayal at their hands. I'm sure I had the same dumb look on my face that the cartoon character gets when he's hit in the head with a brick. Andy had to stick his oar in again.

"'Hey, Mark? It is Mark, isn't it? Why don't you stick around and join us?'

"'Oh, that's a great idea!' Julia enthused before I could say anything. 'Come on, Mark, don't be such a spoilsport. It'll be fun, you'll see.' She took a handful of suds and blew them at me, then kissed Andy cutely on the nose.

"I'd had enough. I turned around and left. I could hear them talking low to each other, giggling occasionally. I didn't know I'd said anything funny, but you never know. I packed a small overnight bag and left."

I pause. I've been so involved in telling the story that I've forgotten Anna is even there. She was right, though: I need this.

"I got a hotel room and did about what you would expect. I cried, I cursed, I punched the mattress, and finally fell asleep in a chair with my clothes on; none of which changed anything. When I woke up, though, one thing had changed. Julia was no longer the little girl I'd protected, or the wife I'd loved. She had made herself my enemy now. The only thing I cared about was protecting my assets from her and lover boy. It wasn't that I needed the money, but paying her for fucking around on me was just wrong on principle.

"I had one big advantage that my dearest wife was unaware of - my wealth wasn't really mine at the time. I was living off a trust fund, set up by my sly grandfather. He had a black humor and was deeply mistrusting women in general. He had decided that I would be receiving a hefty monthly allowance until at the age of 40 or after my first divorce the whole fortune would change ownership. He said that in both cases I would have learned the facts of life by then. Legally I had almost no assets at the time Julia had killed our marriage. Ironically, our divorce was about to make me rich.

"I immediately visited my family attorney who assured me that the worst that could happen would be a small alimony for a limited time. I really wasn't looking forward to having to give her a single Euro, but this was a solution I could at least live with. He handled all the details, making sure Julia couldn't run off with anything, and filed for divorce. He said things would start to get interesting in a couple of weeks, when she would come to realize the new situation. Meantime, I rented a nice apartment, and moved in what little I wanted from the old one.

"Julia didn't try to contact me for a whole week, and then it was only a text asking if I'd gotten over my hurt feelings and was ready to come home. I didn't answer. For someone who loved me so much, she certainly didn't seem to miss me.

"My attorney was correct. Two weeks to the day after our appointment, the barrage of texts and messages began. Her attorney must have told her she wasn't going to be as wealthy as she thought. At first she said that if I would come home, I'd see how much she would love me and how much stronger our marriage would be. Then she told me it was all just a big misunderstanding, and she was sure we could make everything all right. Finally, she just told me to man up. After all, Andy accepted it, why couldn't I?

"Suddenly, the static stopped, and a couple of days later, her attorney produced a postnup giving her 20.000 per month for life if we divorced, and saying I'd signed it. Which was stupid, because after the handwriting folks did their thing, Julia's credibility was pretty much zero. Then they tried for domestic violence, but couldn't provide any evidence. Finally they decided not to dig themselves a bigger hole, and accepted what we offered, which was now down to 2.000 per month for a year, and nice hefty bills from her lawyer.

I had won. But I also felt like shit, and ran like a rabbit whenever a woman approached me. So I became a hermit."

I fall silent. The only sounds are the wind in the rigging and the waves under the bow. Anna says nothing. I look at her. Tears are streaming down her face. You know what? She's still beautiful.

"I'm so sorry, Mark. That's terrible. I understand why you hurt so much." The funny thing is, I hurt less after telling her the story. I wouldn't have guessed that.

"But Mark, you can't go on this way. Don't you see? She's not worth throwing your life away over. She never cared about your happiness, but now you're letting her make you miserable." She speaks with intensity, determination written on her face even as the tears dry on her cheeks.

"Mark, you have to live. If you don't, you've let her kill you." I flinch. That's pretty drastic, but I can tell she means every word. She lets me think about that for a while before breaking into my thoughts.

"So you're a hermit, then?" She has that quirky, teasing smile on her face again, and the sparkle is back in her eyes.

"Yeah, I guess so." Yesterday, I'd have been proud to say it. Now, I'm not so sure.

"Your place is a lot nicer than those hairy bearded guys used to have."

"Fortunately, yes."

"Promise me you'll leave it soon though. You need to start to live again, Mark." Her voice is soft and warm; I look into her eyes and I can see that she cares. A lump forms in my throat, and all I can do is nod.

She draws back from the moment. "Good," she says. "Now that that's all settled, maybe I can get some sun." Her smile both dares me and invites me to watch her as she gracefully stands and walks toward the bow. People actually told this girl she wasn't pretty enough? Yikes.

I accept her invitation and enjoy the view as she stops just forward of the mast, rolls my sweats up into a pillow and reclines on the deck. There's certainly nothing else out here anywhere near as watchable as she is, and I'm very sure she knows it, in spite of how nice she is. Her loose, long hair fans out and catches the breeze. She looks perfect enough for a magazine cover, even when there's no one to take the picture, but there's more to her than that. She's kind. People don't get how important just ordinary kindness is, except it isn't ordinary. She's empathetic. She cried when I told her about Julia, and somehow that made me hurt less. Is she telepathic? I sure hope not, but for someone who met me less than 24 hours ago, she knows me and my thoughts too damn well.

Is she right about me, though? Should I give up my isolation? I know I can't go through what Julia did to me again. I would die. But if I'm already letting Julia slowly kill me, like Anna said, what's the difference? I'm still staring at her as I muse. What about her, then? She left her previous life behind, just as I did, though somewhat more dramatically. Where I'm hiding from the world, afraid of getting hurt, she seems eager to get out there and go on with whatever is next in her life, even though she has no idea what that might be. What's more, her attitude is contagious. Just being around her is making me less afraid of living again. I almost feel that with her, I could... No. She's obviously way out of my league. Maybe somewhere, though, there's a girl who's like Anna, but not as gorgeous, that I could build a life with. My imagination roams freely, while my eyes are mesmerized by the slow rise and fall of Anna's smooth belly and high, round breasts, almost completely revealed by the tiny scraps of black fabric.

"Mark?"

Oh, crap, she's caught me looking. I thought she couldn't tell from behind the sunglasses. Maybe models can always tell, I don't know.

"Where are we going?" She asks the question as if she really doesn't care.

"Naxos."

"So that's where you were going to dump me?" She rolls over onto her front and removes the sunglasses, and grins at me.

"No, not dump you, I wouldn't, but well, no, not like I wanted to... oh, crap." She's laughing now.

"I'm sorry, Mark, I shouldn't do that. I know it's not nice, but I just seem to always know what you're thinking, and it's been so long since I had anyone to tease and be light-hearted and just have fun with. Forgive me?"

I smile and nod. I think I would forgive her anything if she'd only look at me like that, and then the "all women are selfish bitches" voice reminds me of what women can do when they think they'll be forgiven.

"No, Mark, I'm not like that." She says it gently and seriously. Damn, she's doing it again! I sense that she knows why I need to hear it, and doesn't mind repeating it as often as I need it. Whoa, am I reading her now? What's going on here?

"So am I leaving the boat at Naxos?"

"NO! I mean, not unless you want to, or you really have to, but you can if you want, I really like you here, but I wouldn't... oh, damn. You can stay as long as you want." She's enjoying my stammering way too much. I take a deep breath.

"I'd been planning on stopping there anyway to lay in supplies, and you might want to get some clothes." That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

"What's the matter, sailor, not enjoying the view?" She stands and leans against the mast, posing like a glamor girl. I gape and goggle; she laughs, then becomes serious again.

"You know I don't have any money or debit cards, and I don't know if I'd be able to get to my bank accounts from Naxos. I might not be able to pay you back, at least not right away."

"Hmmm," I pretend to think things over, while I walk toward her. "Well, maybe I can think of a way for you to pay me back." I'm trying to keep a straight face, and I must be succeeding. She has this "Oh, no, not him, too" look on her face.

"How are you with knots?" I ask, still straight-faced. She shrinks back from me just a touch.

"Um, what kind of knots?" There's a little quiver in her voice I hadn't heard before.

"Sailors' knots. Halcyon doesn't sail herself, you know, and since you're here, you might as well help out."

I smile as she laughs and punches me on the arm.

"I had you going there, didn't I," I enjoy having the laugh on her for once.

"It looks like someone else has gone too long without a little light-hearted fun," she smiles at me.

We sit on the foredeck facing each other as I start to teach her some knots. It's still hot even though the sail shades us from the fierce Greek sun, so I take off my shirt. We catch each other looking from time to time, and smile. It feels odd to have someone who looks like her, look at me like that, but not so odd I couldn't get used to it. I haven't been this relaxed around a woman in a long time. We trim the foresail more for practice than anything else. She's more athletic than I would have guessed, and watching her move is a joy.

I'm the envy of the waterfront as my bikini-clad guest helps me moor Halcyon. She follows my instructions perfectly, and looks like she's been doing it her whole life. If I'd ever thought she was just another brainless model, I certainly know better now. She pulls on my sweats and we head into town.

Our first stop is at a bank, and as she had feared, Anna is unable to get access to the money in her accounts in Italy and Germany without her ID or debit card, so she's shopping on my dime. My cynical self expects her to act like a stereotypical model and buy at least two of everything in sight, so of course she doesn't. She gets some sundresses, some shorts and tops, and actually asks for my advice on what shoes to buy. Everything she buys is good quality, but nothing is glitzy or garish. I go off to buy the food and supplies while she sees to her underthings, and we're both thoroughly laden when we meet at the town square.

When we left the docks, I had been snickering at her sweating in my sweats in the mid-afternoon heat. Now she's wearing a light sundress, looks absolutely gorgeous, and it's her turn to laugh as I gawk and stare as she pulls me along. Of course, half the male population of Naxos wishes they were in my position.

We go aboard and stow our purchases, and relax for a moment. Anna looks at me seriously. Every time I think I'm getting used to how beautiful she is, she looks at me a different way, or she holds herself differently, and I'm stunned all over again.

"Thank you, Mark," she says. "I have some savings, and I will pay you back."

"Shouldn't you hold onto your savings until you get a job or something?"

"Well, maybe, but I don't like owing debts to friends." Her smile is soft and sweet, her eyes warm and tender, and I panic. This is all going way too fast for me.

"We are friends," she repeats. "Friends help each other, like you helped me last night, even when you didn't really want to." We both know she is right. "Friends don't hurt each other, and whatever happens, Mark, I won't hurt you. Ever. And you know, we're... comfortable together. I was trying to think how long it's been since I was just comfortable with a man: no expectations, no pressure, just friends. I can't even remember when it was. You're getting comfortable with me, too.

"There's another thing. You know how I seem to always know what you're thinking? How I can read you? You're the only person I can do that with."

"Damn," I try to look disappointed. "I was hoping you could read everyone like that, and we could rule the world." We laugh together, and she gazes at me for a moment.

"So, friend, what's the plan for tonight?"

"Well, friend," the word comes out before I can stop it, startling me, but it's the right word. "I don't have a clue. I'm known as the man without a plan."

"Good," she says, smiling, "because I have one, and it's perfect. You're going to take me onshore to that nice-looking seafood place we noticed, and we're going to have a wonderful dinner together."

"And then?"

"And then we'll come back aboard and I'll tell you the rest of the plan."

We go ashore for dinner. The seafood place isn't pretentious; for a moment I wonder if Anna will think she's slumming. I'm pretty sure they've never had a fashion model, even an ex-, in there before. But it's obviously been there for generations, and it's clean and well kept, so I have high hopes for the food.

Sure enough, every eye is on us as we walk to the restaurant and are shown to our table. I know Anna's used to this, but I'm not. She senses that I'm ill at ease, and draws close to me. "It's okay, Mark. I don't mind their staring at you; I'm not jealous." We share a laugh as we sit.

Fortunately, places like this don't mind if you dawdle for a couple of hours over dinner; in fact, they take it as a compliment. The owner comes by a couple of times to say how much he enjoyed us enjoying his food. If his real motive is to get a closer look at Anna, so what? I can't blame him, and the food is good. There's something special about seafood that was actually swimming just a few hours ago. Most importantly, Anna is enjoying herself, and to my immense surprise, so am I.

Finally we rise from the table. The owner and the waiter (son No. 3, I'm guessing) see us out, and we stroll along the waterfront before we go back aboard Halcyon. Anna holds my arm. She says little; I say nothing.

We're aboard. I haul up the gangplank and turn toward her. She melts into me, gives me the lightest kiss on the lips, and steps back. I can't tell whether the sparkle in her eyes is a reflection of the lamps on shore, but she is, as usual, irresistible.

"Thank you." She speaks low, almost whispering. "I can't remember the last evening I've enjoyed so much." She turns away for a moment. To hide tears? After a moment, she turns back to me, smiling impishly.