This is a work of fiction. All characters are of majority age (18 years or older).
His Valentine's gift keeps on giving...
I would watch him for hours from my bedroom window. He was the most perfect specimen of a man I ever knew. To this day, I can't get over how absolutely beautiful he was, in every respect. He was the first man I ever took inside my body. I willingly gave him my maidenhead and have never regretted it for an instant.
His family was from Columbia. His mother and father traveled quite a bit as they owned a textile import business, leaving Albert and his younger sister Soagia, home alone a good deal of the time.
Soagia became my best friend in elementary school and as we girls grew through puberty, first boyfriends and so on, and as we shared so many of our hopes and dreams, we became more like sisters than neighbors.
Albert was fifteen years older than his sister. He doted on her and therefore, by association, he too, doted on me. We were his damsels and it was his duty to keep us from distress.
I fell in love with Albert the moment I laid eyes on him and in some respects, maybe deep inside, I knew I spent more time with Soagia than I ordinarily would have done, if it were not for Albert being ever present in her, and therefore, my life. But, over the years, Soagia forgave me when she finally figured out that I lusted after her brother. She told me that if he were not her brother, she too would have willingly given him her own virginity.
Albert did two things each day without fail. He tended the family grounds which had, without question, the most beautiful and imaginative garden in our town. The other thing he did for two hours every day, was lift weights. His physique was like a Greek God. He was also gay.
Sometimes, when his parents were home, he would take off on a business trip to some exotic location from which, upon his return, he would later show us pictures and regale us with the most amazing and amusing stories. He made a substantial living as a landscape architect, and was so well respected he would only work three or four times a year. The money was not important to Albert. The work was everything.
As I finished high school and was truly at a loss to choose a direction for my life, on a lark, I one day asked if I could apprentice with Albert. Without flinching, he agreed and I started work the first Monday after I graduated.
Albert was a taskmaster. He asked me to learn the names, both scientific and popular, of all the trees, plants and flowers on his property. When I had mastered those, he told me to bring him a different offering each day from nearby in the neighborhood. I was to explain the history of what I brought, how it came to be in our part of the world, and what environment would cause it to thrive and which soils would kill it.
Over the next two years, I took night classes in botany, but found Albert to be the best teacher of them all. He always said, to know plants and what they like, you need to put your bare hands in the soil where they live. If you leave your hands in the soil long enough, he would say, it would be like visiting the inside of a neighbor's house; you would get to see where they lived and what they needed to thrive. We also worked barefoot.
Our day's schedule had us work only in the mornings and in the late afternoons. Albert insisted we take siestas and as I lived next door, I would nap on our porch in our hammock. Albert would workout and then sit on his bench in the garden and meditate.
When we resumed work in the afternoon, if it was really hot, Albert would work without his shirt. His beautiful olive skin would glisten in the sun and soon he would be drenched in sweat with rivulets of water running down his back. I would be wet between my legs and once or twice I would have to excuse myself, using the "I need to go to the bathroom" ruse and run home and take care of my itch.
Whenever that happened, I swear Albert knew, as his nose for subtle changes in the surrounding bouquet of flowers was unparalleled. I would be embarrassed but, with a concerted effort, I would dig in, learn my lesson for the day, and work like a dog to make up for my delightful distraction. Sometimes, on nights when I didn't have class, I would be so tired; I would shower and go straight to sleep without eating. But I never complained.
Whenever Albert left town, I would tend the grounds for his parents and serve them lunch in the garden, usually consisting of salads made from garden greens and herbs with fruit from their trees as dessert. They had the best avocadoes I've ever tasted and the mangoes were divine.
His father was handsome in an aristocratic sense and his mother was so beautiful it was painful Though both were graying from the passing of years, they were still the most beautiful couple wherever they went. Sometimes Soagia, my parents, and I, would accompany them out for the evening. We always had the best time.
I think now of the way some people live their lives and shake my head in bewilderment. I have strived to emulate that easy, carefree existence where work was just as important as play. I'm getting there.
One day, Albert asked me if I'd like to accompany him to a wealthy patron's estate in Bali. I of course, jumped at the chance and spent the month getting my passport in order, making sure my parents would feed my cat, and generally chomping at the bit, like a thoroughbred about to enter its first real race.
When we finally flew onto the island, I was like a child going to a theme park for the first time. On the trip over, for the entire flight, I read aloud and discussed all of my research downloads with Albert. He never once let on that he knew anything about the island and would compliment me on my knowledge and thank me for informing him. Yeah, right. But that's how much of a gentleman he was.
For the first three days we worked. The entire estate was open to us as the owner was off doing business in some other corner of the world, so we had this enormous mansion, grounds, staff and anything else we could ask for at our beck and call. Albert never changed his manner one iota, but I watched the way the staff respected him and kept their distance from us, as if becoming too friendly would insult us. In a way, it made my time with Albert seem as if the entire paradise that is Bali was ours and ours alone.
On the fourth day, Albert said we were only going to work a half day and then we'd go into town for a bit of shopping. He also said we were taking the next day off to just,"do nothing," as he so eloquently put it.
If you have never been to Bali, you should go. The silks and cottons and the patterns which adorn their cloths are so amazing, you'll never look at a department store catalog again. Now I knew where Albert's mother got her beautiful shawls and parasols.
We finished shopping and went back to the estate for dinner. Staff had outdone themselves in preparing our evening's meal and the wine flowed like a glacier melting in Equatorial Africa.
It was during our third bottle that I told Albert that I loved him. He said, "I know you do little one, I know you do."
I passed out.
Late the next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee. When I opened my eyes, I saw Albert fussing with a breakfast tray.
"Oh good," he said. "You're up."
He served me breakfast, cut my fruits, poured more coffee and generally and gradually helped me return to the land of the living. I told him I had felt better in my life, but thanks to him, I knew I could go on.
He told me to bathe then go back to bed. He'd wake me in the early afternoon.
I did as he suggested and fell right back asleep after my bath.
Later, as I was in the middle of a beautiful dream, I slowly realized someone was stroking my face saying my name in the quietest whisper I could ever imagine. I smiled, realized I was feeling much better and opened my eyes.
Albert was sitting on the side of the bed with a huge smile on his handsome face. I scooted over so he could sit next to me and patted the bed.
He smiled an even bigger smile, took off his sandals and got under the sheet with me.
"Do you know what day today is," he asked?
"Tuesday or, wait a minute, I think it's Wednesday," I replied.
"Do you know the date?"
"Ummm, February something," I responded.
"Well yes it is. In fact," he said, "it's February 14th and you know what that means don't you?"
Still a bit foggy from my excesses of the night before, I just shrugged my shoulders.
"Okay, then let me enlighten you by asking a question."
"Go ahead," I allowed.
"Will you be my Valentine?"
"Oh, Valentine's Day," I giggled. "Do they even celebrate that here in Bali," I asked?
"I don't know, but we're going to celebrate it. I want this day to be special for you."
"What have I done wrong," I asked, figuring I must have poisoned someone's plantation somewhere.
"Nothing, I've decided that your love should not go unrequited."
Oh my god, I thought. He remembered.
I felt so foolish that I'd declared my love to my boss, to my best friend's older brother, to my next door neighbor and to a gay man to boot. I almost felt as if he was mocking me, but something about Albert's smile told me he wasn't.
"I want to tell you a story," he said. "I've never told anyone, and I want you to promise me you'll listen without interrupting me. It won't take that long."
I nodded my agreement.
"If you listen without judging me or trying to ask too many questions, I will be in your debt."
"Okay, I won't talk, nor will I ever tell anyone," I said. "Whatever you tell me, is for me and for me only."
"Thank you."
I waited while he gathered his thoughts and then he began his story.
"When I was a young man, first starting to travel with my parents and beginning to be interested in making my living assisting the lives of plants and flowers, a client took me into his garden, and without going too much into the details of how he got his way, he took my pants down and gave me pleasure with his mouth. After I came, he asked if I'd like to do the same for him. I couldn't think of any reason not to, so I very awkwardly reciprocated."
