A Romantic Interlude

A Romantic Interlude

Emma snuggled close to her husband that night. The warmth of his body enveloped her tightly like a security blanket. Peter sighed, a smile breaking the calm tension in his face as his arms pulled Emma in a firm embrace. She felt safe, happy, contented.

“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” Emma murmured into his ear.

“Me too,” he whispered. “It has been so long since we did anything like this.” Eyes closed, Emma nodded slowly in agreement. As she fell into a deep slumber, she felt thankful that they had taken this decision the day before. Their lives have been so hectic since they moved to this new country six months ago. With Peter’s promotion and Emma’s thriving home business as a freelance photographer, they have hardly had any time for each other. Somewhere between Peter’s late nights at work and Emma’s long evenings in the dark room, things changed.

Gone were the weekend nights they would spend cuddled up in front of the television, fighting over the remote control and giggling like little children with secrets. Or the mornings where they would wake up together, arms and legs entangled, sharing their plans for the day in whispered breaths of excitement. Peter would surprise Emma with cute gifts hidden in nooks around the house because he knew Emma was an obsessive cleaner and would definitely find them. Emma would whip up Peter’s favourite desserts and have them express-delivered to his office during lunch. Amidst these playful romantic games, there would be sweet telephone calls everyday and passionate exchange of loving words every night.

Now, they barely uttered civil words to one another. Recently, during a calm reprieve after a heated argument, Peter and Emma acknowledged their shaky relationship. For the first time in a long time, Emma confessed her feelings of resentment at having to uproot herself and start all over again in a new place. Peter shared his anger at her lack of appreciation of his efforts to make her happy. Through the hurt and tears, they realized that they still loved each other and began making plans on rekindling the passion in their relationship.

Tomorrow would be one such plan.

Peter’s gentle snores left soft vibrations pulsing comfortably in Emma’s hair. Sighing, Emma finally succumbed to sleep. Her last thought was of tomorrow’s weather forecast: bright sunny weather, min. 28°C, max. 33°C.

Just perfect!

********************

“What do you mean, it was my job to set the alarm clock?” Emma cried in surprise at Peter’s accusation. She threw two t-shirts into the small overnight bag, glaring at Peter as he rushed into the bathroom with his small travel toiletry case.

“You were the last to come to bed, so you should have set the alarm for 5 a.m.!” Peter yelled in reply, his voice muffled by the distracting sound of items being tossed into the case. He reappeared from the bathroom and hurriedly stuffed the bulging toiletry case into another overnight bag.

“I thought you had already set the clock! After all, you are the one who is so crazed about punctuality all the time!” Emma retorted, zipping her bag closed.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Peter said as he checked his watch. “We can still make the 6.30 ferry if we hurry. Are you done packing?” Seeing Emma’s flashing eyes and quick nod, he continued, “Let’s go then.”

Peter hoisted his overnight bag over one shoulder and grabbed the sleeping bag with his free hand. Emma did the same. Together, they hurried down the narrow stairs to Peter’s four-wheel drive, their shoes clacking noisily on the tired wood. Through the living room windows, Emma glimpsed the beginnings of a beautiful sunrise. The clear skies of breaking dawn promised a wonderful day for what they had in mind.

Emma quickly dropped her bags next to Peter’s as he unlocked the car and proceeded to load the boot. “I’ll go get the basket from the kitchen,” Emma told Peter as she ran into the house.

“Five minutes! Don’t forget the blanket and the dog food!” Peter called over his shoulder.

Upon his reminder, Emma left the basket where it was on the kitchen table and continued her way downstairs into the dark basement. Groping in the dark, her fingers came across the light switch dangling from the ceiling. One pull and the whole basement was showered in a cozy yellow beam from the five newly-installed connecting bulbs.

“Where did I put that blanket?” Emma muttered to herself as she rummaged through a weathered cardboard box optimistically marked ‘Picnic Stuff’ in faded black ink. Chucking out a bright orange Frisbee, her hands finally came in contact with something soft and thick. She pulled it out. It was the huge red-checkered blanket her family used for all their picnics. Other mothers handed down heart-shaped lockets or bracelets to their daughters, but Emma’s mother left her with a fluffy family picnic blanket instead.

“For all the good family times ahead,” she had promised Emma. “Once this blanket is spread on the green park grass or rough beach sand, all your troubles are forgotten. There are only two things – the family and the food!”

With that thought in mind, Emma folded the blanket neatly and kept it aside. Spotting an empty airtight container, she filled it to the brim with dog biscuits. Emma heard Peter calling out to her to hurry. Balancing the heavy blanket in one arm, the container in another and the Frisbee clamped between her teeth, Emma climbed the stairs into the kitchen, leaving the basement lights on.

As fast as she could, she placed everything on the table and rearranged the basket of food to include the container of dog biscuits and the Frisbee. Then, she carried the basket and blanket out to the waiting car, Peter staring impatiently at her. Once everything was loaded, boot shut and house locked, Emma and Peter settled themselves in the car, seatbelts securely fastened.

“We’re definitely going to make it to the island!” Peter grinned happily. The tension of their earlier tiff began to subside as they drove towards the port where the ferry would be waiting to take them to the beautiful island across the mainland. Moo’rea Island is a popular weekend getaway for many people on the main island of Tahiti. Being the adventurous sort, Peter and Emma would first picnic on the beach and then spend the night camping in the lush grounds nearby. It was the perfect way to revitalize their relationship.

“This is going to be great,” said Emma as Peter maneuvered the car into a parking space at the ferry terminal. “Just you and me and Alto….. .” Emma stopped speaking, suddenly very aware of the silence in the car. Apart from their breathing, she could not hear the usual eager yaps of their puppy, Alto, from the back seat.

Emma turned to look at Peter whose eyes had widened in realization.

“Oh no!” Peter cried, horrified.

“We forgot the dog!” Emma’s voice rose simultaneously. Somewhere in the near distance, they heard the sound of a ferry blaring its horn, ready to depart within minutes.

“We have to turn back,” Peter said, disappointed that they would miss the earliest ferry to Moo’rea. The next ferry would not be for a few more hours. By then, it would be too hot to picnic on the beach as they had planned. The tasty sandwiches would become soggy, the chilled drinks warm.

“How could you forget the dog?” Emma asked Peter, irritated. “I was in the basement packing his food, getting the blanket and the basket. All you had to do was put our bags in the boot!”

“I’m sorry, okay? We were in a rush! I just forgot, that’s all,” Peter answered as he reversed out of the parking space.

“Yeah, but your forgetfulness is going to cost us a nice day out on the beach!” Emma sulked, arms crossed in annoyance.

“Well, stop blaming me for everything!” Peter’s face flushed with anger. “If you had set the clock like you should have, we wouldn’t have been in such a hurry in the first place.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault that you forgot the dog?” Emma demanded, indignant. “How typical of you to blame others for your own mistakes!”

Peter remained silent for some minutes. That last comment spoke volumes about what Emma thought about him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to appease his wife by saying, “Look, let’s just stay calm, all right? It’s not like it’s the end of the weekend. We’ll still make it there, just a little bit later than we thought, that’s all.”

The rest of the way home was driven in marked silence, Emma staring out of the window, blatantly giving noncommittal replies to Peter’s attempts of small talk with her. Countless thoughts whizzed through Emma’s mind as they drove past the scenic valley of lush green vegetation leading towards their house at the top of the mountain. Previously subdued doubts resurfaced, questioning her faltering faith in the future of their relationship.

Emma sighed, saddened that the start of their lovely day together was marred by their petty arguments. In retrospect, loud fights about alarm clocks and dogs were hardly just cause for ruining what would have been a romantic beginning of a weekend. She recalled how happy she had felt the night before when Peter held her. She had forgotten the last time they had cuddled together like that throughout the night. Glancing at Peter’s taut face now, she could not quite believe that the night before even happened!

As the car continued up the slightly steep mountain, Peter caught Emma’s eyes on him. Though the exchange was brief, Peter felt a tug at his heart. He never believed in love at first sight until he met Emma. Unfortunately for him, Emma had become a cynic when it came to passionate love affairs and had shunned him mercilessly. In spite of the numerous attempts at keeping him out of her life, Peter had still waited loyally for almost two years. Finally, his faith in Emma had been rewarded and they were married a year later.

Loud, incessant barking drew Peter and Emma out of their private reveries. From inside the car, they could see their excited puppy running back and forth from one end of the electric gate to the other. Emma pressed the button of the remote control in the car and the main gate opened smoothly. The car slowly went past as Alto jumped in glee at the sight of his masters.

“Hello, ol’ boy! Sorry we forgot you,” Peter greeted Alto warmly from the open car window. Turning off the engine, Peter stepped out, only to be pawed at and licked all over by Alto. He stooped to his knees and hugged the dog close to his chest.

“Yep, we missed ya too, little buddy!” Peter laughed. “Go say ‘hi’ to your mama,” he instructed Alto, pointing towards Emma who was about to unlock the house door. Just then, a crack of lightning sparked through the morning sky, followed by the distant rumble of faraway thunder.

Emma and Peter quickly looked at each other, dismayed. Together with Alto, the three of them rushed to the huge backyard at the back of the house. From this vantage point, they had a gorgeous view of the city of Papeete and the great Pacific Ocean. Across the wide expanse of ocean, the island of Moo’rea was usually clearly visible.

Now as they squinted against the rapidly clouding sky, they struggled to see even the tips of Moo’rea Island. Too preoccupied with their own thoughts before, they had not realized that massive grey clouds pregnant with heavy moisture had moved menacingly over the island. It would not be long before showers of rainwater hit their mountain too.

“Let’s just drop the whole idea,” Emma said quietly as she and Peter stood side by side in the backyard. Her resigned tone of voice lent a deeper meaning to her one statement. Peter heard what she said and knew what she truly meant. His heart felt heavy all of a sudden, as though the clouds of water above had descended on his chest instead of soaking the ground on which he stood.

Tears in her eyes, Emma marched resolutely into the house, feeling numb with the weight of her decision. I love him so much, but I don’t have the strength to make this work anymore, she told herself.

Outside, Peter remained rooted to the spot, hurting immensely though no tears glistened in his eyes. I love her so much, but I need her to believe in us again, he determined.

Alto whined miserably, sensing the gloomy air surrounding him.

********************

It was cold and damp in the house. The rainfall they were expecting came in torrents, reminding them that it was still the monsoon season in the French Polynesian islands. The noisy clatter of rainwater against their roof nullified any need for conversation. It had only been an hour, yet the change in weather was dramatic – clouds had gathered over the outskirts of Papeete; drainage pipes downtown had burst due to the huge volume of water; and power outages were scattered throughout the city. It was reported to be one of the worst flash rainstorms in the last five years.

“I’m taking a nap,” Emma broke the silence. She yawned sleepily as she headed lazily towards the bedroom. Peter smiled knowingly. He had been reading a book while waiting for the inevitable to happen before putting his plan into action. Emma would be sound asleep within minutes and Peter would be free to do whatever he wanted. He continued leafing through the yellowed pages of his book, biding his time until he could hear the almost inaudible sound of Emma’s snores, a sign that she was finally in dreamland.

Peter went through the kitchen and down the stairs to the brightly lit basement. “Thank God I fixed these bulbs last week!” He muttered as he hunted fervently through the shelves.

Found it! Triumphantly, Peter pulled out the edge of dark blue material that his fingers touched seconds earlier. He checked to see if it was torn. It was not. Grinning, he envisioned the look on Emma’s face when she discovers what he had done.

********************

Emma awoke with a start. How long had she been napping? The house was quiet, except for the sound that had startled her awake. Through the windows, she could see it was lighter outside. Though it was not sunny, the heavy rain had reduced to a drizzle. She climbed out of the bed.

“Peter?” She called out, her voice reverberating through the still semi-furnished house. She shivered, feeling goosebumps crawl all over her body. “Peter, where are you?” Emma continued walking through the house and into the kitchen. Noticing the basement lights were switched off, she gave a small cry when she felt something soft and furry bump into her legs.

“Oh Alto, it’s you!” Looking down at her dog, she spied the huge rubber bone clamped tightly in his jaws, a sign that he wanted to play. “Not now, my baby,” Emma told him. But Alto’s pleading brown eyes won her over and she grabbed one end of the bone while he held on to the other.

Instead of the standard wrestling match, Alto pulled on his end of the bone while moving towards the backyard. Emma had the distinct idea that Alto wanted to show her something. Curious, she followed him through the back door.

The fresh smell of damp grass was invigorating after Emma’s long nap. Raindrops drizzled softly on her face, cooling her skin. A slight breeze played with the ends of her short dress, causing the smooth fabric to slap gently against her knees. Her bare feet were one with nature as they sank into the mossy grass. Emma inhaled a deep breath of the chilly late morning air, reveling in this moment of quiet solitude.

It was then that she saw it.

A huge dark blue dome peeked over a giant bush. Eyes wide open now, Emma walked over to the bush. Standing erect from the ground, it was the long-forgotten wedding present – a six-person-sized tent, complete with comfortable sleeping bags and a rusty old oil lamp! Apparently the lamp was working well, as Emma could see the bright yellow hue glowing from within.

But what Emma could not miss seeing most of all was the sight of her beloved husband squatting right in front of the tent opening, holding a placard sporting the words ‘Let’s start over!’ all wet and runny in black marker ink. No words came to her mind as Emma remembered what a romantic old fool Peter had always been.

Without saying anything, Peter dropped the placard and moved aside slightly, inviting Emma to peep inside the tent. She did. The sight that greeted her eyes warmed her heart. Peter had hung the oil lamp from a hook at the top of the dome and lit tea candles in glasses of water strategically placed all around the tent. In one corner were two rolled up sleeping bags. On the ground, he had spread the thick red-checkered blanket. In the center of the blanket sat the basket of food that they had prepared for their sunny picnic on the beach. An unopened bottle of red wine and two glasses rested beside the basket.

Emma’s throat closed up as she felt sentimental tears coming to her eyes. Peter anxiously held out his hand to her. Emma understood the question in his eyes. She paused, reflecting on the years they had been together, her thoughts remaining on the last few unbearable months. Slouching her shoulders regretfully, Emma stretched her fingers to touch Peter’s hand.

Just a brief contact of skin against skin when Emma let her outstretched hand fall to her side. She turned away from Peter’s anguished face, walking back towards the house. She took a few steps ahead before turning once more to face Peter.

“I just remembered,” Emma said, smiling innocently. “I forgot to pack paper plates in the basket!” With a cheeky wink, she skipped into the house, the sound of Peter’s joyful cries echoing in the background.