They darted ahead of me: twin flashes of white against broad,
dark palm fronds. They moved like deer and their laughter bubbled in their
wake, tender, girlish, sweet. Had I truly wanted, I’d have overtaken them,
silly creatures, without a scrap of trouble. If they were deer, I was the stag.
But I let them lead, keeping just ahead of me.
I caught sight of Nina’s periwinkle hair, then the prim shape
of Neri’s ankle and her delicate white sandals. Rosy fireflies and dusky
night-time butterflies drifted through the warm air around them; the sultry
notes of coconut, island blossoms, and the girls’ own bright, fresh scents
guided me through lush swaths of jungle. I was a little tipsy and more than a
little riled, and my pretty pale does knew it. When it came to my passions, my
girls knew all.
