Ten Tiny Love Stories Page #4

He was bent out of shape because

I hadn't put out the night before.

It was the last day

of my period

and I don't like to

until it's over.

And I considered

helping him out with something,

and then I thought,

"No.

Let him stew.

He'll be all the hungrier

for it tomorrow."

So we're lying there,

by the pool,

and he asks me

to rub sunscreen on his back.

And I'm lying there comfortably,

I'd rather die than get up.

But what're you going to do?

So as I'm rubbing sunscreen

on his back,

I notice he's flabbier

than before.

And I mentioned it.

He says nothing.

Oh yeah.

And then I thought,

"Am I the one

in Mark's life?

Am I the Cuban ballerina

of his life?"

No.

I knew I wasn't.

When someone loves you

like that,

I'm sure you can feel it.

It must be...

a cozy feeling, like...

a hum that

warms you up inside.

And even if you're no longer

with that person,

it must be something.

I want to be loved

like that.

So, I'm on Mykonos,

the Greek island,

sitting at a tiny table

with Nora,

when we see

this handsome waiter

delivering drinks to a table

of Australian tourists.

We're checking him out

when another waiter comes out

from behind the first one,

and this one is even better.

This one is tall,

he's got light-brown hair,

broad shoulders and hairless arms.

He's pretty hairless

for a Greek.

He's carrying a tray

with two tiny coffee cups on it,

and the tray, which looks big

in the hands of the other waiter,

looks tiny in this guy's hands.

His thumbs are huge

and his feet are big too.

He was just big all around.

And lean, like an American man,

but he's less self-conscious.

He's more comfortable in his body

than most American men are.

He's wearing a white open shirt

with sleeves rolled up.

And the first thing you notice

are his collar-bones.

They're animal,

they jump straight up at you,

right in your face.

So he comes up to our table.

Nora orders a mineral water,

and I say, "Two, please."

And I concentrate on getting

a good look at him before he leaves.

I notice that the skin

on his face is dry.

One of his front teeth

is chipped.

And his lips are thin

and a bit cruel-looking.

Also, his eyes are

a little close together,

and I noticed they make him

look distracted.

So he scratches his elbow

and asks if we want anything to eat,

in pretty good English.

Nora and I shake our heads no,

like two twin idiots.

He walks away without getting

a good look at us.

So then, Nora puts

some sunscreen on her nose.

As usual, her timing's perfect.

Just as the waiter's coming back,

Nora's stuck with a little

white dab left on her nose,

looking like Rudolph

on a Mediterranean holiday.

She's sitting there and without missing,

the waiter puts the water down,

reaches in

with his middle finger,

removes the sunscreen from Nora's nose,

and wipes it on his apron.

And Nora just laughs and says,

"Oh thank you,"

pours the water like it's nothing, like

Greeks are always touching her face.

She's a good pretender

when she needs to be,

but I know, inside,

she is peeing her pants.

But I have to hand it

to Little Miss Mouse.

She pulled this one

off well.

So he asks

where we're from in America,

and I say we're

from Southern California,

and he says he's been to Boston,

but never to California.

If he ever comes to California,

he says, can he stay with us?

It's a silly joke we saw coming

from three miles away.

And we're two in an infinite number

of cute tourists

he's talked up and will talk up

with this crap. But...

So, he tells us

a bit about Boston,

and he's talking mostly to me now.

I tell him I know Boston,

so we start talking about Boston

and leave Nora behind.

He's not terribly smart,

but who cares, right?

I don't want him

for the father of my children.

So that was it

at the restaurant.

So later on, Nora and I

are taking a walk

and we see the two waiters sitting

on this little stone wall,

smoking cigarettes.

Our friend notices us

and waves us to come over,

and I can tell his attitude

is different.

He's got a cigarette

dangling from his lips,

and he's got this confident smile,

kind of cocky.

And I think, if he refers to us

as American girls,

I'll turn around

and walk away.

But he doesn't.

He says, "Hello, friends,"

and lives another minute.

He's on my case right this time.

He doesn't bother with Nora.

We're talking,

and outside of work,

he's even slower

than before...

almost dim.

But still, he's confident

because I think he can tell

I'm an easy prey.

How does he do that?

So, suddenly, I'm on the defensive.

I can't look him in the eye.

And I'm trying to make the conversation

between the four of us.

But Nora and her waiter

are talking in Italian.

It turns out, Nora's waiter

is Italian and Nora's fluent.

So things are looking

promising for Nora.

So they get up

and walk away,

and my waiter...

I still don't know his name...

my waiter and I

follow like sheep.

So we're walking

in silence now.

And he doesn't seem to mind

we're not talking.

He just lights another cigarette

and starts whistling

and doesn't look at me.

And then Nora and her waiter

cross an intersection.

And my waiter takes a drag

from his cigarette

and pulls me over by the elbow

to make a turn.

I call out to Nora and she sees

we're going in a different direction.

and she waves goodbye

and smiles, as does her waiter.

And I think perhaps Nora's

with the better of the two waiters.

So now we're walking

by ourselves...

and we're still not talking.

But it's a beautiful sky,

just the last light of day

ahead of us.

We walk for a couple of minutes,

we cross another intersection.

And ahead of us, I can see the purple

clouds over the rocky mountains.

It's really beautiful

and quiet.

The only sound is the sound

of our feet on the gravel.

So I stop to make the sound

of our shoes stop

and the waiter stops too

and asks if I want to go back,

and I tell him no.

And we stand there

in silence.

I look around

and there's nobody around.

There's not even a house,

probably for miles.

And I think of Nora,

and I hope

what we're doing is okay.

I hope we're going

to be safe.

And I think of Nora's mom,

how scared she'd be...

how disappointed

she'd be in us for separating,

running around

following waiters.

So then we start

walking again,

and up ahead is a guy

on a bicycle coming towards us.

As he gets close, he and my waiter

recognize each other.

The guy stops and they talk,

and he won't look at me.

And I don't like that,

because I feel

they're talking about me.

He gets off his bike,

they start walking, and I'm not moving.

The waiters turns around,

waves me on,

and I still don't move.

It's getting dark, but...

I'm not going anywhere.

The guy comes over and asks me

what's wrong and I say,

"If you want me to follow,

ask the biker to leave.

I'm scared to walk

with the two of you."

So he says okay.

He turns and says some phrase

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