A Kachina Dance Read online

  When Jay walks in he doesn’t seem to be interested in food and after a little kissing I must admit I’m not either. So we retired to his bed. This seems to be the pattern we follow all week, making love, trailed by a late candlelit supper, with much laughing and whispering. This kind of thing never happened to me before. He has stolen my heart.

  Sometimes, when the apartment gets too oppressive from the enduring temperature, we ride to the mountains and hang out until dusk. When we return, the sun is setting and the angry heat of the day has ebbed. We often stop at a pull-off and observe the moon’s entrance into the night as the lights of the city begin to glimmer. How alive I feel in this place. How loved I feel in Jay’s arms.

  Chapter 4

  At the conclusion of my first week, I convince Jay to drive to Santa Fe with the rental car and deliver his paintings to the gallery in person. Originally I planned my trip around a funky new B&B called, Pueblo Bonito, which served free margaritas at 5:00 each night. Instead of canceling, I want us to be together and explore the city.

  As luck would have it, the room I had booked was a single. The young manager took pity on us, especially when I explained that Jay was a struggling artist. Jay looks mortified but I’m a great storyteller so I embellish a little. The manager has a cancellation and gives us a suite with a living room, adobe fireplace, bedroom, and a tiny kitchen, at no extra charge. I am psyched!

  Our first task is to drop off the paintings. While Jay speaks to the owner, I look around. It is a modest gallery with some nice work on display and in a good location; I feel positive. Yet it is bittersweet as I realize I can’t escort Jay to the opening reception.

  After we leave, we wander the streets, arm in arm, as Jay points out some of the places he’s worked and some of the galleries where his paintings have hung. Around 5:00 I insist we head back to the B&B for the cocktails and chips. If it’s free, I’m there, baby.

  We walk into the sunny lounge filled with plants and brightly colored tiles. The manager greets us and shows us the large pitcher of margaritas, salsa and chips. There are only two other couples enjoying intimate conversations around the room.

  “Where do you want to sit?”

  “Outside.”

  “Hunh? It’s so hot out. Don’t you like the AC?”

  “OK, inside, but let’s sit over there in the corner.”

  “OK, you want to get the drinks?”

  “No.” He moves to the table on the far side of the room and sits facing the wall.

  I look at him for a second then go and pour two drinks. The manager makes some small talk about enjoying our stay. I move to the table quickly, sit, and see Jay’s troubled face.

  “Jay, what’s the matter? You don’t seem like yourself.”

  “I feel uncomfortable. I don’t come to hotels or motels with pretty women like you especially on this side of town. I don’t belong here.” He takes a swallow of his drink and begins tapping his leg up and down in a nervous movement.

  I look at him with my mouth open. “Whoa, is this…are you telling me that this is an ethnic thing?”

  He hunches his shoulders and leans forward and talks even softer than usual. “What I’m sayin’ is I only stayed in motels 3 or 4 times in my life and they were very rough places. Nothin’ nice like this. I see the looks you’re gettin’ from guys. Even the manager keeps coming on to you. You’re beautiful and here you…”

  “Wait, you never said I was beautiful before. You just said a moment ago I was pretty.”

  “Aw, that’s because I felt awkward. From the first day I saw you on my tour I thought you were beautiful and so darn intelligent. I told you I’m not good with words, it takes me time to say what I want.”

  “Do you pick up a lot of women on your tours?”

  “No,” he says emphatically, “you happen to be the only one. I usually stick to my own kind, it’s safer. Easterners are generally too aggressive, too impatient and rude for me.”

  “Why did you ask me out?”

  “Well, truthfully, at first I thought you were annoying, asking so many questions. I thought you just wanted attention. But it didn’t take long to realize you knew more than me. Some of your questions made me stop and think.” He laughs and takes a drink. “Kate, I don’t go out much anymore. After the divorce I kinda’ kept to myself. Friends would try to fix me up but it never worked out. I never expected any of this to happen. By the end of that first night at the diner, you were all I could think about. Now you’re all I’ve been lovin’ since.”

  I reach for his hand. “It’s been an extraordinary week and you are an exceptional man. Have you ever taken a look at yourself in a mirror? You’re quite a handsome guy. I see a lot of women giving you ‘the look’ too, you know. You are so buff in your jeans and tees strutting around so cool. And with that coy smile you look so sexy.

  He shakes his head and gives me one of his little smiles, “Come on, sexy, cool, handsome…what was the other…oh, buff, you’ve got to be joking. If women are looking at me they’re wondering what the hell you’re doing with me.”

  “Stop right there, mister.” Now I’m annoyed. “I’ve dated a good deal but never found anyone I cared enough about to continue a relationship. Many of the guys I’ve met were artists or work in the museum field, too. To be honest, many of them went out with me just to see if I could further their careers since I have connections working at AMA. Whatever the reason, I found their egos unquenchable. You are so different. You have a softness that extends from your eyes, to your voice, to your hands. You speak from your heart. It’s a rare quality, Jay.”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s easy to be with you.”

  I squeeze his hand. “It’s easy to love you. Don’t be uncomfortable, you belong here just as much as I do.”

  He looks down at the two empty glasses. “Hmm, I guess you want me to get us more drinks.” He gives his half smile and winks for the first time. He goes to refill our glasses and I grin.

  ***

  Now Santa Fe is a lively city with gaily painted houses, a Spanish/Native American culture, fine restaurants and watering holes. Tourists seem to be dripping with heavy silver and turquoise jewelry as they thread in and out of select shops and art galleries. There is much to see and do. Yet you can always escape into the mountains.

  In Santa Fe I finally have an opportunity to wear the long skirts and peasant blouses I have packed. It’s a pleasure changing from jeans to the beige Mexican wedding dress with lace inserts I had bought recently in a trendy Hampton boutique on Long Island. I decide to wear my hair up to expose my slender neck and shoulders. For once I have a man who would enjoy them. With a little silver jewelry I am dressed for the evening. Now it was Jays turn to say, “Wow.”

  I had come prepared with a list of best restaurants from the New York Times and Jay knew his favorite eateries. We were democratic. If I chose a posh restaurant like the Pink Adobe, Jay could choose a local bakery like Pasquel’s. His choices usually turned out to be outstanding and were much cheaper. I tore up my list.

  “Please let me give you some money for all these restaurants. I feel guilty about seeing you pay for so much.”

  “Let’s say it’s payback for all the stuff you bought for the studio.”

  “Ha, I’m sure you won’t use half of it when I’m gone.”

  “Not true, I love the coffeemaker and I can’t say enough about the fan.” He grins.

  Our days are crammed but time moves rapidly. It was Sunday, our last day in the city, and after a leisurely breakfast at the Inn we stroll to the plaza a few blocks away. I buy some pottery and baskets. Jay buys me a beautiful turquoise necklace from one of the Native artisans in the square. We go for lunch at Casa de Sena, a trendy watering hole, for the bejeweled of society and I finally treat Jay to lunch.

  “I feel triumphant! You finally let me pay for a meal.”

  He laughs. “You only got your way because the necklace caught me short. I didn’t expect such a posh place for lunch.”
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  “It is our last day and I just wanted to see what all the fuss over Casa de Sena was about. My boss had recommended the place to me. You must admit it is lovely.”

  “Yes, but I’d rather be somewhere else. I wish I had my bike. Wouldn’t it be great to ride into the mountains?”

  “Yeah, it would. We could take the car.”

  “It isn’t quite the same, is it?” He gives me his slight smile.

  “No, it isn’t. But with the wine we drank, I think walking is a better option.”

  Somehow all the plans we have for the afternoon fall apart as we stroll back to the Inn and find our bed. The day passes into night and we sit together under a starry sky outside our room. Smiling, Jay says, “We fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.”

  “You feel that way, too?” I sigh and move closer to him. I look up into his face. “I keep repeating to myself that this never has happened to me before. It’s incredible how alike we are. Jay, I know you’ll be the greatest love of my life.”

  “I know you will be mine,” he says as he slowly unpins my hair.

  There’s something very provocative about having your hair fall leisurely on your bare shoulders when the man doing it starts to kiss you slowly.

  Chapter 5

  Back in the studio a day later, Jay kisses me before he leaves the bed and I bask in the afterglow of making love. I am floating on waves of emotions which fill me with warmth and pleasure. I have no desire to leave the bed. Yet I roll on my side and think about making coffee. The sex goddess nippily goes to the coffeemaker and begins the brew. Jay is out of the shower and I hand him a steaming cup of black coffee. He smiles broadly and kisses my nose.

  “You’re handy to have around.”

  “Ya’ think?”

  “Hmm, and I like all your cute freckles especially the one on your right breast.”

  “That’s a beauty mark, sir,” I say with pretend indignation. I run into the bathroom and he starts to get dressed. When I return he pulls me close.

  “I like the way you smell of vanilla and roses. I like the way you look in the hazy morning, still asleep, with your hair spilling over your pillow and your limbs so soft and embraceable. I like the way you respond to my kisses when you’re still not awake. And most of all, I love hearing you moan when we make love.” He begins nuzzling my ear and neck and I heave a gentle sigh and I wrap my arms around him.

  “Jay, there’s only a week left, not even that, really; I leave early Sunday morning.” I pulled away from him to look at his face.

  “What can I say?” He looks at me with a funny expression. “I can count.”

  I can feel tears welling up so I turn, walk to the bed, and sit down. Jay follows me. “Kate, I’ve got to shave. We can talk about this tonight but no matter what we say it means good-bye.”

  “So this is just a summer fling to you?” I say angrily.

  “You know it isn’t…not for me or for you. But, Kate, can I ask you to give up your fancy life in Manhattan and live here? Or would you want me to leave my very humble studio and move to a place where I don’t belong? Let’s be real Kate. It won’t work. I’d do anything to keep you here if you would be happy, but I know in a few months you’d miss your old lifestyle.”

  He goes to the bathroom and I crawl under the covers and weep. Before he leaves for work, he squats by the bed, brushes aside my hair and kisses my mouth. “I love you. Let’s make the most of these days, Kate,” he whispers.

  “Yeah, I’ve got to see the glass half full, right?” I smile through my tears. “I promise I’ll be in a better mood tonight.” I squeeze his hand. “We could never marry anyway, I know that.”

  “What? Who mentioned marriage?”

  “I know you would only marry a Hopi so your children would be part of her clan.”

  Jay stands and sits on the bed. “Katie, I was married to a Hopi. It didn’t work.” He plays with my hair. “Truthfully, I haven’t wanted to repeat that mistake.” He bends to kiss me and gives me a slight smile. “I have to go.” He departs quickly.

  Alone in his studio I wonder how this story will end. Could I just leave in a couple of days and never look back? Realistically, would I be happy with a life here? Just looking at all my purchases around the tiny space, I know I wouldn’t. I will be constantly changing Jay’s life to look like mine…not a good thing at all. I’d want a bigger apartment in a trendy town. I’d want all new furniture. I’d want marriage. I’d want…I’d want…I’d want!

  I know, too, that this kind of love doesn’t happen often. Would I regret leaving Jay all my life? My gut says yes and I begin crying again. Maybe I’m just a foolish romantic!

  Being honest I have to admit he’s right. I just can’t give up my New York lifestyle and my job either. I have worked so hard to get this position. I want a career; I enjoy my profession. I heave a great sigh and realize how selfish I really am. If things don’t fit into my plans, well, I can’t bend. Damn, this is more than I can handle.

  Jay comes in about 5:30 carrying a bouquet of sunflowers. He takes me in his arms and embraces me. “It’s a beautiful night for a ride up into the mountains. I know the perfect place for a picnic. Do we have any food or should we get take out?”

  “I’ll have to change from a skirt into pants but that will only take a few minutes. Look in the fridge, there should be enough things to take for grazing. There’s some cheese, grapes, left over cold-cuts. Hmm, crackers and bread are in the cabinet. Oh, take out the tomatoes and lettuce. We’ll have to buy beer. But how are we going to carry it all?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll pack it. I’ve carried more than this on my bike.”

  “But then you didn’t have me sitting behind you.” I laugh.

  “We’ll manage.”

  We leave the steamy apartment and head out into the sultry desert air. The metal of the red bike is fiery so I sit carefully holding tightly to Jay. Once we begin moving the searing heat is fanned by the motion of the bike. The street is clamoring with commuters but soon we escape to the highway. Out of the reservation we stop at a grocery store for some cold beers. We leave the noise and grunge of progress behind as Jay guns the engine and we turn onto a country road. I laugh to myself at the irony of leaving civilization on a bike that will disrupt nature, too.

  The smell of the pines assaults the nose most pleasantly as we climb steadily. The fir boughs block the sun giving us a shady lane to meander. Jay slows the bike so we can relish the cool Pinion pine forest around us. I lean my chin on Jay’s shoulder and he squeezes my hand at his waist. In a clearing we overlook the canyon below as it dances in dazzling magenta hues. We climb higher and the air feels purer, cooler, lighter. The mostly rough and only partly paved road curves around as we ascend. The butte that we are scaling rises vertically about 2,000 feet. Abruptly the road narrows into a one lane dirt pass that snakes back and forth as we head to the pinnacle. I pray we don’t meet a car coming in the opposite direction. I look down and see how perilously close we are to the edge of the cliff.

  Jay turns with ease on to what looks like an old foot trail that is rocky and covered with weeds. The bike’s tires raise sandy clouds of dust beneath the treads and weeds catch on our jeans. The dry seed pods standing along our path burst in the wind, flinging the ripe contents into the air like confetti. The engine chokes from the stress of the weed covered passageway. A thorny vine whips at us and tears the skin on my hand. It stings but I dare not look at it now. My hands stay firm on Jay’s waist. The height is dizzying. The ride is frightening. Yet it’s exhilarating!

  Carefully Jay turns to the right and heads to a lone pine near a rock out- cropping and shuts off the engine. Without a word he helps me off the bike and leads me to the edge of the cliff. The panorama before me is breathtaking. I try to say something but I can’t. I look at Jay and he gives me his little smile and puts his arms around me.

  “I felt the same way when I found this place. There are no words if it speaks to you.” He smiles his little smi
le again.

  I lean my head against him and feel a shiver. When I do find my voice, I say, “Jay, this is paradise… it is magnificent. Unless you are here breathing in the sky, feeling the power of the mountains, and drinking in the gypsy colors of the canyon walls, you can’t imagine the magic.” I take a breath. “I feel so privleged to be here!”

  “This is one of my favorite places to be alone. I often come up here just to listen to the wind or watch the birds fly above the canyon. The light and shadows striking the red cliffs are perfect at this time of day.”

  “Hmm, perfect,” I sigh as I feel his hand tighten around me. Together we watch an eagle glide effortlessly on a current of air below us. The parched grasses stir as a trifling gust saunters along. I am moved by my smallness in so vast a dominion. I appreciate the ancient peoples need to be here; so harsh a land yet so beautiful a place. The toughness of this land calls to the soul and seduces forever. This is mother earth…this wilderness…this arid region…this physical sovereignty. Jay breaks my thoughts.

  “Let’s get out of the sun.”

  I realize for the first time that I am cool, almost chilly. Under the windblown pine tree, we set up our picnic on his colorful blanket. The tree offers protection. The ground is uneven and through the wool blanket I feel some of the weeds poking through.

  “This looks like a family heirloom, should you be using your blanket like this?”

  “It was made to be used. I guess someone in my family, maybe my great grandmother, wove it. I just remember it was on my bed as a child. And when I left home for New York my mother gave it to me, to remind me of my roots. I take it with me wherever I go. I’m not going to hang it on a wall like they do in museums, if that’s what you mean. I’m going to use it.”

  “I bet you were an adorable little boy. I can just see you cuddled up in bed with the blanket on top of you.” I smile. “Treat the blanket gently, never-the-less, it deserves respect.” I pass him a beer. “That was quite a ride, a bit scary but so exciting!”