I took a shower. I had the opposite problem to yesterday. There was no need for Ana when Ava was filling my thoughts. I threw on a robe, conscious of the material being stretched outwards below where the belt was tied. I told myself this was helpful, not embarrassing. It wasn’t anything that Ava had not seen before. Had not touched before. At that thought I swelled even more.
When I walked back into her room, Ava was sitting on the side of the bed. She glanced up. I spread my arms out and looked theatrically downwards. Making eye contact with Ava again, a sheepish look on my face.
“You seem more… prepared… than yesterday, Martin.”
Ava smiled and I smiled back. There was a funny aspect to it all, I guess.
“Why don’t you take your robe off?”
I wasn’t expecting this. I had in mind what we had done yesterday. My hesitation was clearly obvious.
“Oh, Martin. If we are going to make this work, we need to be less shy around each other. Maybe if I…?”
She stood and undid her robe, easing it off her shoulders and letting it fall.
I had always thought of Ava as beautiful. But, like this, with no thread of clothing, no adornment, she was truly stunning. Dark hair flowing over her sculpted shoulders, brushing the tops of small breasts, topped with pale pink nipples. A narrow waist flowing into shapely legs. Nestled between them wispy hair as black as on her head. If Aphrodite had an Asian heritage, she could not have been lovelier; at least to me.
I was rendered utterly speechless. She approached me and undid my robe, also letting it fall. I was acutely aware of my elderly body, in contrast to her youthful litheness. She put a hand on my chest and kissed my cheek. Then breathed in my ear.
“You remind me of him so much. The Josh I wanted to grow old with. Is that OK to say, Martin?”
I put my arms round her and held her to me. Her soft skin a delight against my own.
“It’s OK, Ava. It’s OK. This is for him as well. I’ve come to realize that. We both loved him. I think he would have wanted this for you.”
She smiled a little sadly.
“Shall we get on with it, Martin? I’d like you to keep your eyes open, if you can.”
I nodded.
Ava retrieved a new jar from the bed and took it out of its wrapper. She unscrewed it and put jar and lid back on the bed. Then she knelt in front of me and looked up with her dark brown eyes. She kept eye contact as she gripped me. Pulled me down. Pulled me up. Then paused.
“Martin. I said you remind me of Josh.”
Her pale cheeks were flushed red.
“One part of you, in particular, reminds me of him. May I?”
Her intent was clear and, with how she asked, I would have struggled to deny her, even if I wanted to. And I knew I didn’t want to.
“I would be OK with that, honey.”
With those seven words, the Rubicon had been crossed. I had been telling myself that yesterday had a higher purpose. As Ava closed her lips around me, I stopped lying to myself.
She didn’t spend long on me. But it was the most emotionally charged exchange. I had thought she would close her eyes, the better to recall my son. But she never broke contact with me. Josh was clearly present, but we both knew that it was the two of us sharing this intimacy.