Walk a Straight Line Read Free

second act . . .”
    She ambled over to the chest. Pulling the drawer open, she tossed clothes this way and that, before triumphantly saying, “Aha!” She grabbed the lime-green two-piece, hid it behind her back, and scurried into the bathroom to freshen up and change.
    When she came out of the bathroom, she expected Terence to salivate at her tantalizing show. But he didn’t look pleased. Perched on the bed, with one arm crooked under his head, he coolly assessed the garment she displayed. “You’re going out like that?” His peculiar facial expression and disgusted tone gave her slight pause.
    â€œYeah.” Quizzical, her smile collapsed. Now she felt uncomfortable. Did she look funny or fat or something? She appraised herself in the mirror. Nope, no difference there.
    â€œIt’s revealing.” Terence shrugged in a way that said more than his words. “I don’t want all those men’s eyes ogling my baby. Why don’t you wear something else?”
    Colleen bit her bottom lip. Insecurity blossomed and took root. “Okay, I’ll change, although . . .” She shook her head, deciding not to voice her objection. Personally, she thought the two-piece harmless—especially compared to the skimpy thong suits that other women were wearing. But it was her nature to please. “Well, I do have the black one-piece I packed on a whim. I’ll change.” She wanted her new husband’s approval. It meant everything to her.
    With unsure, stilted steps, Colleen changed outfits. Though she felt dowdy now, she dutifully turned to face Terence.
    She remained silent but stoically watched him swing his powerful legs and walk over to cradle her in his arms. “My baby looks good.”
    Colleen felt her spirits rise. He was happy. Her husband was pleased, and that was all that mattered. “Whoosh,” she sighed. “If you keep that up, we won’t make it out to the beach. I can’t go back home without ever hitting the water.”
    She felt the rumble of his chuckle, and her body chilled when he stepped back. “Point well made, my wife. Give me a moment to put my trunks on, and then we’ll head out.”
    Feeling cherished, Colleen nodded. She waited while Terence grabbed his trunks and took his turn in the bathroom. When he came out, her eyes popped open when she saw his barely-there trunks.
    She bit her tongue to keep from seeming catty about the whole bathing-suit thing. Resolute, she pushed it from her mind.
    They left their suite arm in arm. Colleen felt giddy. She swung her hips from side to side. Inside she raved . . . I’m not alone and bitter like my mother. I am married, and I got me a good man with a job. I don’t even have to go back to work when school starts ’cause my baby got money.
    Colleen and Terence frolicked in the sun. Its rays viciously pelted into their skin, leaving them well-tanned, but thirsty. They bought lots of water and punch for sale at a shanty on the beach. Soon, Colleen’s bladder protested. “I’m going up to the room. I need a potty break.” “I’ll bring us some more,” Terence slurped, greedily.
    â€œYes, please do,” Colleen added, with a brisk nod, addicted to the flavorful punch—a swirling, colorful concoction of ice, pineapple, passion fruit, and syrup—and, a perfect cure for a parched, dry mouth.
    Colleen hauled her sun-beaten body up to the hotel, dragging her towel in the sand. She dusted sand off her body. Ugh! It was everywhere. She wished she hadn’t caved when Terence had insisted on burying her in the sand.
    Colleen entered the suite and stripped. She left a seductive trail of clothes to entice Terence to join her for a shower and whatever else. She grinned as she headed into the oversized stall to wash the gunk off her body with vigor. Ten minutes later, wrinkled and disappointed, Colleen stepped out of the shower.
    Clad only in