Lazy Days, there it was, on the ocean side of the highway. She was there, he could smell it, smelled her scent as soon as he rolled into the parking lot. He knew her scent anywhere, even through heat and moisture that seemed to make the air heavy and almost suffocating. He walked up the steps to the restaurant, which was perched on stilts on the shore mere feet from the ocean, and swiveled his head to case the place. Didn’t need much casing, it was 3 in the afternoon, the interior of the restaurant all but deserted on an afternoon in the shoulder season.
A deeply tanned, stout young woman came from behind the bar with a welcoming smile on her face. “Seat inside or out?” Her accent was Cuban.
He knew where she was, the scent wafting from the porch facing the water told him exactly where. “I’ll seat myself, my friend’s waiting.”
“You Miss Marie’s friend?”
The sound of her real name on falling from someone’s lips made him pause, then he nodded, and put a finger to his lips. “She’s not expecting me.”
She smiled wider. “Ok, a secret," and she gave Logan’s arm a conspiratorial pinch. “Miss Marie, she been here a lot, always so nice, no bother at all.” She patted Logan on the arm, “But it is nice she have a friend here now. Not so good for her to be alone so much.” She winked and gestured to the porch. He nodded, gave a quiet “gracias” and moved the door
Can’t hide from me kid.
There she was, to his right about 10 feet away, her back to him. She was wearing an outrigger hat over her auburn and white curls, a white tank top and another colorful wrap skirt. She’d turned her chair away from her table to gaze fully on the turquoise waters and the boats leaving the nearby dock for the light house a couple miles off shore, where tiny divers’ flags were visible bobbing red on the horizon. Her legs, her bare legs, were kicked up on the railing and crossed at the ankle, a pair of scuffed boat shoes idly tipping back and forth as she wagged her feet gently from side to side in time with the Jimmy Buffet song that was playing quietly over Lazy Days system.
Logan was surprised and amused to see a sprinkling of freckles on her tanned legs. He followed the line from her left ankle crossed over the other, up her well-toned calf, seeing where they dipped behind her exposed knee and up until they were covered by the bright green batik pattern of her skirt.
Couldn’t even get a freckle before, all covered up. The things she’s missed.
“What’re you doing here?” she said.
He hadn’t moved or made a sound, but she knew he was there. And she was pleased. He could hear the smile in her voice.
“Well, someone took off without telling me where she went and I got a little worried.”
“Yeh, sucks when that happens.” Marie, not Rogue, turned to look at him over her left shoulder. The smile she had there was something he’d never seen from her before. Soft, relaxed, unguarded. There was no hesitation there, no tightening of her lips she always showed whenever someone got too close. It was open, carefree.
Normal. That’s all she wanted. Damn, I shouldn’t be here.
“Are you going to stand there all day or are you coming to celebrate my birthday with me?” She waggled her bottle of Corona with lime and pointed it at the ice bucket on her table with beers more sticking out the top.
Ok, maybe I’ll stay for one drink. Besides, she isn’t pissed I came.
“I figured you’d show up,” she said as he slid into the seat opposite her and turned it to face the water too, kicking his boot heels up on the rail just as she’d done.
Reaching over to crack the top off his beer and pluck a slice of lime from a plate, he said, “Well you didn’t exactly make it very hard to find you. Cell phone, credit cards, commercial flight. Thought I taught you how to go on the run properly.”
She titled her head back and closed her eyes. “Ah, but Logan I wasn’t running. I’m not hiding. I’m just free.”
He nodded over at her, a smile of his own crinkling his face. “I can see that,” and waved his bottle in the general direction of her bare legs.
She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him for a moment before raising her beer again. Swallowing, she sighed and said, “I learned to control it, fully. On and off, like a switch. In the shower of all places. Oh Logan, you don’t know how this feels.”
He nodded somberly and raised his bottle to hers, toasting her accomplishment. “No I don’t kid, but I’m fucking happy you do.” He’d ask her for details later, right now it seemed like an excellent idea to sit here, have a beer, and let her talk if she wanted or not.
She did, very much. She pulled her legs from the railing and turned to face him, wrapping her arms around herself and said, “All the things I never knew I was missing, I have them now. All the stuff you and everyone else take for granted I have it now, it’s like I finally started LIVING.” Her eyes were almost glazed with excitement. “Tank tops!” she exclaimed!
“What?” He was expecting her to talk about touching other people, letting them touch her, not being afraid…definitely not her outfit.
“Tank tops!” said again. “See?” She gestured. “No sleeves, no scarves, not hoods, and no gloves.” She thrummed her bare fingers on the table. “Of all the things I thought I would love if I could touch I never knew tank tops would be my favorite.” She shimmied in her seat, holding arms out wide and staring at them like she’d never seen them before,. He watched as the shadows of the slatted ceiling let light pool and darken over her bare skin.
He had to laugh. He couldn’t help it. He hadn’t even thought about tank tops, shorts, skirts, bare feet in the sand. Being a man he’d thought about the one thing all guys would think.
If I couldn’t touch another human being my whole life and suddenly I could what would I want to do first?
Get laid.
“Exactly!” she said. Logan started, had he said that out loud? “No one ever got it, not even you, what it was really like for me. Everyone was all ‘poor Rogue she can’t touch, she can’t get a kiss, she’ll never have babies’. Whatever to all that! I’m just so happy to wear weather appropriate clothing I can hardly stand it.” She laughed and plucked at her shirt again.
Grinning at her exuberance, Logan said, “Well kid, here's to tank tops. And bare feet.” With that he reached down and took off his heavy boots. They didn’t seem right in this situation.
“And bikinis!” she crowed and turned back to the water, tossing her feet up once again on the railing.
Bikinis.
Bikins.
Bikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinisbikinis
The word ran together until it was a loud buzz in his head. He hadn’t even thought of that.
“Sooooo,” he drawled, trying not to sound too interested in her reply, “got any yet?”
“Oh god yes, about a dozen. See?” And god almighty if she didn’t lift up her shirt and show him an eye-popping confection made up only of string and triangles of green shiny fabric dotted with white polka dots.
Holy shit.
He’d know for a long time Marie wasn’t a kid, but until he saw THAT he’d hadn’t been fully cognizant that he growing up also meant she’d really grown into a woman. With curves. Lots of them.
The valley between her breasts was lightly sheened with perspiration, and for a second an image flashed through Logan’s mind of what it would feel like to lick the sweat from her flesh. He could practically see his tongue gliding up the valley and across the top of one of those perfect swells, his teeth nipping at the seams of one of those tauntingly small triangles.
She laughed at the expression on his face. “Try not to have a heart attack there, old man. You’ve seen less than this on women, I know it,” and, disappointingly, she dropped her shirt back into place, tapped her finger to his head to remind him of the little Wolverine that lurked in the back of her memories, and popped the top off another beer.
Yeh, I’ve seen less than that on a woman before, but never you. Damn!
Logan coughed hard, settled was he felt was a noncommittal look on his face, and said, “It looks alright on you kid.”
“Thanks.” She signed and tilted her head back again on her chair, pushing the brim of her hat forward until it covered her eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this all my life, and its better than I thought.” She paused and he waited. He didn’t have to for long. It seemed as thought she wanted to explain it all to him.
“I wanted to be away from the mansion, not have people react the way they would: happy, excited, confused, worried. I just wanted to go somewhere where I could be a regular person just like everyone else. I just wanted to feel what it was like for it to not be a big deal to other people for a while…because when I go back I know it will be a BIG DEAL.” She sketched air quotes with her fingers.
“I hear ya. You just wanted to be a normal person for the first time in your life. Don’t blame you a bit.” Took a swig from his bear and pulled the lime in the neck out and popped it in his mouth, crunching down on the bitter rind. “You couldn’t left a note or something though, everyone’s a little confused why you left they way you did, but they’re ok with it.” He tipped his bottle up once more, noticed it was empty and reach for another one from the ice bucket.
I could get used to this. It ain't’ Canada, but it’s ok.
“Although Jubilee and Kitty are pissed they can’t take you out and get your drunk for the first time.” She shifted her head so she could see him, and she winked at him. “Legally anyways,” he finished. They’d had a few benders between the 2 of them when he should’ve gotten shit-canned for letting a student drink, but that was a while back.
“Yeh well, they’ll get over it. This is the perfect birthday. Look around us.”
And he did. It was a damn nice little spot she’d found, the small white sand beach in front of the porch bounced the sun’s rays back up, the old coral and rocks at the edge separated the beach from the boats moored nearby, a stone jetty crawled out into the sea to allow passage into the small harbor where the diving boats moored. Someone had left a big anchor on the sand, maybe a prop, maybe it was from a real wreck, he didn’t care, it fit right there just exactly. The palm trees waved over their heads and a cool breeze flowed under the covered porch and teased the heat from his skin and cooled the sweat on the back of his neck.
“Yeh,” he sighed, and put his head back like her and looked over at her. “This is way better than a bunch of people at the mansion flipping out over your control and then being forced to pick you girls up from a bar in town at 3am after celebrating.”
She smiled softly again and closed her eyes. “I thought everything I could possibly want was here…right here…right now, at this exact moment, this one perfect moment. And I was so happy. I’ve found that peace I’ve been wanting a long time, Logan. I thought it was perfect. Then you showed up.”
He sat up, wondering if he’d misread her easy tone, that he had interrupted her and now he needed to leave.
Her hand rested on his forearm. He looked at it, completely caught off guard. He knew she could touch. He just hadn’t felt it until now. It wasn’t a theory or an abstract anymore; it was real. Her hand, very small but strong, laid on his forearm and she gently squeezed it, then relaxed and let it drape there.
She just did it, just reached right over, with her eyes still closed and a smile ghosting her lips, and laid her bare hand on him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Now it is perfect. Thanks for coming Logan. I’d hoped you would.” He sank back in his chair and closed his eyes, aware only of the sound of the water lapping at the beach, the breeze playing over them both, her hand lying on his skin, and the steady and slow tick of her pulse through her palm.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Lazy Days is a real bar on Islamorada that I discovered on a b-day vacation 3 years ago. The decription of the bar, beach, and ocean are exactly as I remember them.
It was my one perfect moment, the single best day of my life. I wanted to share it Marie and Logan.
It was my one perfect moment, the single best day of my life. I wanted to share it Marie and Logan.
Chapter End Notes:
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