A to Z

by Marie Sexton

  “Okay,” she says. She’s still snifflin’ but she sounds hopeful too. “Maybe…?” she stops, like she’s afraid to say it but finally does. “Do you think maybe next year?”

  “Rather just deal with one year at a time,” I say.

  “Can I call?”

  I’m startin’ to feel a little overwhelmed now. Feel like I made a pretty big step already. Not sure I’m ready for any more than that.

  “I don’t know. Gotta think ’bout that first, okay?”

  “Okay.” But she sounds happier now. “Angelo, I want so much for us to try to be a family again. I know it’s a lot to ask after all this time. But anything you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it.”

  “Not sure how much I can deal with right now.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m not very good at this kinda thing. Zach could tell you.” I stop short. Not really sure why I said that.

  “You’re doing great, Angelo.”

  “Don’t really know what to call you.”

  She’s quiet again, then says in a real sad voice, “You can’t call me ‘Mom’?”

  “No.” I know it hurts her when I say it but nothin’ I can do ’bout that.

  “You can call me Nita.”

  “That seems wrong too.”

  “I’m not sure, then,” she says uncertainly.

  “I’m not, either.”

  “Whatever you’re comfortable with, Angelo. You don’t have to decide right now.”

  “Guess not.” And for some reason, at that moment, I want to give her somethin’. Can’t really explain it, but I do.

  “Maybe I can call on Christmas,” I say. It comes out pretty quiet. I think maybe she won’t hear it at all. Almost hope she doesn’t. But she does.

  “That would be wonderful!” she says, and she’s cryin’ again, even harder than before, but I can hear that she’s smilin’ too. I can hear in her voice how happy I’ve made her. I’m not sure how that makes me feel. Happy or relieved. Or angry and resentful. So many emotions I can’t possibly sort through them all. It feels like more than I can handle. I feel like I’m drownin’. I need somethin’ to hang onto. Anything.

  No. Not just anything. I need Zach.

  Suddenly more than anything, I want him here. I want to call him on his cell and tell him to come home. ’Cause even though he said he was just goin’ out for coffee, I know he’ll want to give me time and space. Probably wander ’round the grocery store all fuckin’ night if I let him. Makes me smile a little, thinkin’ ’bout it.

  “I gotta go,” I say.

  “Okay.” I can tell she’s a little disappointed, but just like Zach, she’s tryin’ not to let it show. “I’m so glad you called, Angelo.”

  And I don’t even have to lie when I say, “Me too.”

  “Goodbye.”

  “Bye.”

  I’m just about to hang up when she says, “Angelo, wait! Are you still there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Angelo, I….” She stops, and I know what’s comin’. And more important than that, I realize I wouldn’t stop her from sayin’ it, even if I could. “I love you.”

  All I can say is, “I know.”

  Zach…

  ANGELO called me sooner than I expected and told me I could come home. I could tell by his voice that the phone call must have gone okay. When I got there, he was laying on the couch, with Geisha on his chest. She bolted, of course, the minute I came near.

  He moved his legs enough for me to sit down, and then stretched them out again across my lap.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

  He thought about it for a second, then said, “Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  He started watching whatever was on the TV. I wasn’t paying attention. I was looking at his bare feet and the little bit of ankle I could see before the hem of his jeans blocked my view. It still amazed me sometimes how every single inch of him turned me on.

  “Ever noticed how in movies and TV shows, everybody’s always carryin’ ’round empty coffee cups?” he asked suddenly, his voice full of amusement.

  “No.” I let my fingers brush over the tops of his feet, then up to his ankles.

  “Drives me crazy. So fuckin’ stupid. Like you can’t tell watchin’ ’em that the cup’s empty. They’re wavin’ ’em all over the place instead of holdin’ ’em careful, like you do in real life.”

  “Uh-huh.” My fingers moved farther up his ankle, then around to the smooth, soft skin of his calf.

  “You’re not even listenin’ to me,” he said, but he was smiling at me. I could see in his eyes that he was starting to respond to my touch.

  “I am listening.” My fingers were behind his knee now, and his eyes drifted closed. Thank goodness his jeans were so baggy.

  “I’m just distracted.”

  “You’re distractin’ me too,” he said, and I laughed.

  “Good.”

  I moved up then, took his hand, and kissed his palm, then his wrist, then the soft skin on the inside of his elbow. He always thought it was funny, the places I kissed, but I could never get enough of his smooth, dark skin against my lips. I took my time, slowly letting my fingers and my lips explore. Then I moved to the other arm.

  He head was back, his eyes closed. He was quiet of course, only his quickened breathing to give away his arousal. But I knew him so well by now. I knew what he liked.

  I pushed up his shirt, just barely brushed my lips against his stomach.

  “How do you it, Zach?” he asked breathlessly.

  “Do what?” I asked as I started to unbutton his pants.

  “Make me like this, without even really touchin’ me?”

  I smiled and kissed his stomach. “Like what?”

  “So fuckin’ turned on, I’m gonna lose it the minute you touch me for real.”

  “I don’t know,” I said as I moved my lips lower, “but I like it.”

  He laughed a little, but then I pulled his jeans down, and his laughter died out and turned into something that was almost a moan.

  I pulled his boxers down, too, so his erection was free, but I still didn’t touch it. I teased him as long as I could, kissing him everywhere else, sometimes barely brushing his groin with my hand, until he hissed at me, “Zach!”

  I ran my tongue up his shaft and felt him shiver. My lips barely brushed his head. Before I could do anything else he grabbed my hair with both hands and pushed down. His hips thrust up, and that was all it took. His orgasm hit him so fast—much faster than usual—and I let him hold me there, as far down his shaft as I could go, until it was over. When he finally let go of me, I kissed his stomach and said jokingly, “I thought you were kidding when you said you’d explode the minute I touched you for real.”

  He looked down at me in surprise, and for a split second, I thought I had offended him. And then, without any warning at all, he burst out laughing. It took me completely off guard. It was something I had never really heard from him—the kind of laughter that you can’t control, no matter what. The kind that comes from way down deep and somehow changes everything. He put his head in his hands and laughed hysterically, without explanation. It went on so long that I started to worry. It seemed like he was only laughing because it was the only thing he would allow himself to do.

  When he finally stopped, there were tears in his eyes. He lay back on the couch trying to catch his breath.

  “Everything okay?” I asked lightly.

  He sighed and said, “Man, I needed that.”

  “The blow job or the laughter?”

  “Both.” I laid my head on his stomach, and his fingers started to comb through my hair. “Neither.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I just needed you, Zach.”

  He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and I could only tighten my arms around him and kiss his soft stomach.

  “There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for yo
u, angel.”

  “I know.”

  For a while we lay like that: me with my head on his stomach and him staring wordlessly at the ceiling. I was actually halfway asleep when he suddenly sat up, which caused me to sit up too. He pushed me backward on the couch, so our positions were reversed.

  Now I was on my back, and he was halfway on top of me. He started to unbutton my pants.

  “You don’t have to do that, Ang.”

  He looked up at me with his lopsided grin. “I know, Zach.” He pushed my shirt up out of the way and leaned down to kiss my stomach. “That’s why I want to.”

  Call me selfish, but I wasn’t going to argue too much.

  I wanted to touch him while he did it. I always wanted to touch him. I loved the feel of his skin against my hands. He let me pull off his shirt, and then he started, and I couldn’t think about anything else. There was only the exquisite warmth of his mouth on me and his soft skin under my fingertips as I touched his shoulders and the back of his neck. There was my hand on his head and his thick black hair, coarse and spiky against my palm. And—

  Everything stopped. We both realized at the same moment what I had done.

  I pulled my hand away, already apologizing. “Angelo, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—” But when I looked down at him, I was stopped short by what I saw. He was looking up at me with his eyes wide. I expected anger, but it wasn’t there at all. There was only surprise.

  “It’s okay,” he said, and his voice was filled with astonishment.

  “I didn’t mean to,” I said again. “I got carried away.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, firmer this time, and he started to smile.

  “It won’t happen again, Ang.”

  “Never listen, do you?” he said, shaking his head in amusement. “It’s okay!” He really did smile then. He moved up so that we were eye to eye. “Everything’s different with you, Zach.

  Everything. I always hated it when other guys did it. Lots of reasons why. But the biggest one was ’cause it felt like they were tryin’ to be in control. It felt like they were taking.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that—”

  “I know, Zach! That’s what I’m sayin’. That’s why it’s okay.

  ’Cause you never try to take anything I’m not willin’ to give.” He kissed me then, softly, and his lips were still touchin’ mine when he said, “You never take anything at all.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true.”

  He nodded. “I’m sure. Think I would know. You give me so much, Zach. Don’t think I ever give anything back.”

  I knew that wasn’t true. I had my business because of him. I had my whole life back because of him. “Angelo—”

  “Shut up, Zach.” He took my hand, kissed my palm, and then turned his head so that my fingers were in his hair. “I want you to take whatever you need, Zach. That’s the only thing I have to give you.”

  I still thought he was wrong. I didn’t understand how he could possibly feel that way. But his eyes begged me not to argue, and to accept what he was trying to give. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close against me. “I love you so much, Angelo.”

  “I know, Zach.” He laid his head on my chest. And I could tell, holding him against me, how much effort he had to put in to what came next. I felt his arms around my waist clench and his whole body tense up. And his voice was so soft, just a whisper, I had to strain to hear him. He said simply, “I love you too.”

  It brought tears to my eyes, hearing him say it. I knew I probably wouldn’t hear him say it again for a long time, but I didn’t care. It was more than enough. I held him tight and said simply, “I know.”