“No, it’s not a coincidence,” he said. “It’s a gift.”
It had been the first film they’d watched together, the second time she’d spent the night at his apartment in New York. They’d been talking about favorite thrillers—well, Abigail had been the one mostly talking about her favorite thrillers—and Bruce had brought up Midnight Lace, a film he’d watched with his mother when he was young. Abigail had heard of it but never seen it, and they’d watched it in the wee hours while still in bed, eating popcorn and drinking champagne. She’d loved the film.
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve given me,” she said now, about the poster, embarrassed that Chip and Paul were in the room with them.
“Nicer than the ring?” Bruce said.
“Yes,” Abigail said without hesitating.
“I think she means it,” Chip said, then quickly added, “We want to get out of your hair, and I’m sure Bruce explained everything, but there are electrical outlets in the bathroom, and you do have a refrigerator, but that’s about it for electricity. There are no screens anywhere on the island, and we suggest you put your phone and laptop, if you brought one, somewhere out of sight. There’s no wireless and no cell service. You gave our number to somebody in your family?”
He was looking at Abigail, and she said that she had. Her parents, plus Zoe, had the resort’s landline, just in case there was some emergency.
“I won’t lie to you. Our guests can get a little wiggy in the first twenty-four hours from not having any access to the internet. Trust me, though, it passes. In one day, you won’t think about it, and next week, when you leave, you’ll wish you could live every day without a phone.”
“I’m excited,” Abigail said, meaning it. Even though she’d grown up in an era of social media, her parents had not allowed her a smartphone until she was fifteen years old, and she still reminisced about life before Instagram and Snapchat.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. Paul, want to show them the provisions?”
Paul led them to the refrigerator, carefully hidden behind a wall that must have been original to the bunk, but the wall somehow slid soundlessly to the side. Inside the refrigerator there were craft beers, several bottles of wine, and an array of cheeses, charcuterie, olives, and designer water. “This is just a start,” Paul said. “Anything else you want, just let me know and I can get it for you.”
“Oreo cookies,” Abigail said, and Paul nodded at her. She realized he had taken her seriously, and she quickly said, “I’m just kidding. You don’t have Oreos here, do you?”
“We don’t, but like I said, anything you want, and we’ll get it.”
“No, no. I was just kidding.”
There was a set of French doors that led to a back veranda with a view of the pond, its surface now orange beneath the setting sun. “Cocktails at the lodge at six, but some guests like to have their cocktail hour in their bunk instead.”
Abigail looked toward Bruce and shrugged.
“We’ll have cocktails in the lodge,” Bruce told Paul, then looked at Abigail and said, “I want you to see it.”
Paul showed them a few other amenities, including a button they could press to summon him, then he slipped quietly out the front door and Bruce and Abigail were alone. She started to laugh. “You didn’t say it came with a butler.”
“Get used to it, babe,” he said.
“I don’t know if I can, but this place is beautiful. I just want to live inside this bunk for the entire week.”
“You can do whatever you want.”
After unpacking their things, Abigail and Bruce took a bath together in the deep freestanding tub surrounded by candles. Bruce told her that the tub was made from sandstone. “You could just be making that up,” Abigail said, “but I believe you.”
She slipped through the water and into his arms. They kissed, Abigail aware of the sound of the bathwater lightly hitting the edge of the tub. “It’s so quiet in here,” she said. “I think I forget how much noise we’re constantly hearing.”
“If it becomes too much for you,” Bruce said, “we could add some ambient noise to the place. There’s actually a hidden sound system that we can utilize.”
“Of course there is. I think you lied about the no-electricity thing. It’s just hidden electricity.”
“Yes, that’s kind of true.”
When they got out of the bath together Bruce dried Abigail off with a massive towel, taking his time, studying her naked skin. Though they’d never talked about it, Abigail could tell just how important visual stimulation was to him. The first night they’d had sex he’d asked her to undress in front of him and watched her with such fascination that it bordered on uncomfortable. She’d made some joke, she was sure, at the time, and it was really the only slightly strange aspect of their sex life. She wondered if it had something to do with the fact that men today, women, too, had grown up watching so much pornography. Maybe the sight of an actual naked woman in front of them was akin to finally seeing the Grand Canyon in reality after years of only seeing pictures. It was both familiar and completely new. She didn’t mind, exactly, and when they had sex, he would become more physically engaged, less visually so. It was totally common, she realized, and the only part of it that bothered her was wondering if he’d lose interest in her as the years passed, as her body changed.
Abigail left the bathroom first and sat naked on the edge of the bed, assuming that Bruce was going to want to have sex. She felt ambivalent, as she always did up until the moment his hands started to touch her.
