An Enchanted Evening

I’ve already described my visit to Wakulla Springs in the fall but left out the juicy bits. The best part of the trip to Wakulla Springs wasn’t the charming lodgings, natural beauty or exotic wildlife although Mother Nature did play her part.

We arrived the day before Mom’s 91st and my 50th birthday. It had been a rough year for me, actually my roughest. My husband moved out of the house in January. Although he’d been expressing some restlessness, I didn’t think it was possible our marriage could actually end. I got married for the first time on my 47th birthday. Who knew by the time my 50th rolled around, I’d be divorced?

The first few months of last year are now a blur to me. I’m not sure how I got up and went to work every day but I did. The clearest recollection I have of those days is my family and dear friends holding me up and listening as I tried to make sense of what happened. And helping me find a new home and move. By the time September rolled around, I was feeling human again and regaining my appetites.

After a leisurely dinner in the grand Wakulla lodge dining room, Mom wasn’t feeling well so I walked her back to the room, then pondered my options for an evening at a 27-room, low-tech hotel in the Florida backwoods. I decided I’d start by taking some more pictures before sunset.

I grabbed my camera and headed outside. As I watched the mist rising off the water, the mosquitoes made their presence known. I turned to head back inside. On the lawn a man paced back and forth, talking earnestly into a cell phone.

An enclosed verandah runs the width of the lodge, facing the springs — a perfect spot to have a glass of wine while watching night fall. And a quiet spot as well, since I had the place to myself. I settled into a chair and started thinking about turning 50 the next day. It didn’t seem possible. To make it feel more real, for months I’d told anyone who would listen that I was turning 50. As I sipped my wine, back and forth the cell phone talker went, still on the damned phone. Tallish and robust, he was maybe in his mid-50s, wearing khaki shorts, a Guy Harvey t-shirt and leather flip flops. He wasn’t especially handsome, but there was something very appealing about him. He struck me as strong and vibrant. I’d actually noticed him a few times earlier, always alone, and had wondered what he was doing in Wakulla by himself.

Finally, he was off the phone and headed my way. When he stepped inside, he commented on the mosquitoes, then asked if he could join me. After introducing ourselves, he went off and returned with a glass of wine for each of us.

We compared notes on where we lived, how we earned money, why we were in Wakulla. I explained our birthday visit and lamented the fact I was spending my last official night in my forties. Which led me to talk about my July vacation with high school friends who were also turning 50 last year. We’d gone to a small resort town in Michigan. In the evenings, I’d spread out on the patio and marvel over the night sky. The next thing I knew, R and I were out the door. As we headed down the sidewalk, he took hold of my hand. OK, then. I like holding hands. And I also like a take-charge kind of guy.

He led us to a wooded picnic area, picking out a table that might afford a view of the sky between the trees. We brushed off the table then laid down, the crowns of our heads touching and our feet dangling off opposite ends of the table. We continued talking, hands interlaced overhead as we gazed up at the stars through the pines. I don’t know how long we stayed like that but when he said he wanted to kiss me, I wasn’t going to argue. It was my first kiss since my husband ditched me. And it was marvelous and exciting. We really hit it off in the kissing department.

We ended up making out like bandits. At some point I checked on Mom while R waited outside. Then it was time for Round Two. He was a great kisser and a perfect gentleman. Well, almost perfect.

Eventually, we called it a night. R had to work in the morning and I was afraid Mom would start to worry. What a magical, enchanted evening it was — an early birthday present for me and exactly what I needed at the time. I returned home feeling desirable and recharged. As R said in an email message the next day: Wowsa.