“Because it… it’s not in line with the cars you drive at home,” one corner of my mouth curves into a smile. I don’t want to inadvertently insult him somehow.
“She’s not a rental,” he grins.
“Then… she’s yours?”
“The very first time I came to the Bahamas was with my family. Marlen loved it so much that he bought that same holiday properly. Lemon came with the house, and the moment I saw her, I loved her. I’ve even considered shipping her back home to Miami, but I think she belongs here in the Bahamas,” he says, looking at the car as though it’s an old friend.
“Lemon?” I giggle, unable to hold it back.
“Yes! It’s a good name!” he says defensively.
“It’s a really cute name. I just didn’t expect a big, mean mafia man to come up with it.”
“I am not big and mean!” he argues, grinning as he picks up our luggage and walks toward the villa.
The villa is bright white with blue accents around the doors and windows. The side facing the ocean is mostly windows, so the view isn’t obscured. It’s a two-bedroom holiday house that opens up right onto the beach.
“If Marlen has property here, why did you rent a villa?” I ask.
“That place is massive. The whole family and all their guests can fit in there, and it’s right near the party side of the island. I wanted something cozier and quieter. I figure we could relax this afternoon and start exploring a bit tomorrow?”
“That sounds lovely,” I agree.
***
I’m sitting on a big moon chair in the living room, facing the ocean, but I have my nose buried in a good book.
It’s around four in the afternoon when a deep, low rumble growls through the sky, pulling my attention away from my book. I look up and realize the perfectly blue sky has become grey with thick dark clouds.
Simon, who was in the kitchen making snacks, comes rushing into the living room with the excitement of a kid on Christmas. Just the expression on his face makes me laugh.
I know him as someone who is mostly composed and calm, so this enthusiasm catches me off guard in a good way.
“Did you hear that?” he says, standing between the open doors that lead out onto the beach.
“It was hard not to hear,” I say, setting my book down and standing to join him in the doorway.
“You are about to experience one of nature’s beautiful artworks,” he says mystically.
As he speaks, the sky cracks with another shout of thunder, and a white flash pierces the dark clouds that seem to have come out of nowhere.
“I swear I looked at the sky thirty minutes ago and it was blue,” I muse.
“These tropical storms come in fast. They don’t last long either, but they are magnificent.”
We stand together in silence, watching the clouds move and shift in shape until, suddenly, they break open and rain begins to pour.
When I say pour, I really mean it. It’s like an ocean has cracked open around us and is falling from the sky. Simon grins and grabs my hand, pulling me out of the safety of the villa and onto the beach.
I squeal and laugh, getting instantly soaked.
He walks us to the edge of the ocean, letting the waves lap at our feet, then pulls me to his side, wraps his arm around my waist, and turns his face upward.
For a moment, I am staring at him in wonder. This version of him is so free and playful. I don’t recognize it.
Then I close my eyes and turn my face to the rain too, leaning into him and letting the smile spread wider over my lips.
When the thunder snaps again, I jump and scream. It’s so much bigger and louder when you’re outside exposed to it.