by Anna Albo
“I’ll turn it down. You can put your stuff in the bedroom,” he said casually.
He made it sound so easy, like we did this every day. I handed him my jacket to hang up and then headed for his bedroom. Like the rest of his apartment, it was pretty void of stuff. He had a dresser, nightstand, bed, and a 32” flat screen television mounted to the wall. On the nightstand were a few books and an alarm clock. Other than that, the room was bare. I set my bag down and changed. I found Jason in the kitchen putting together a platter of cheese, crackers, vegetables, and two kinds of dip.
“Wow, that’s quite the spread.”
“Thought you might be hungry.”
“That’s all for me?”
“I’ll have some of it, but I’m making myself a monster pastrami sandwich,” he said, heading for the refrigerator and pulling out a pack of pastrami, mustard, tomato, and lettuce. I watched him make his sandwich and then we sat down at his small table and gossiped.
“What did you honestly think of Erica?” I asked, neatly arranging a slice of cheese on a cracker.
“I thought she was okay, but not the type of person I date.”
“You know she’s been through every guy at the airport.”
“I’ve heard.”
“Why would you go for coffee with her?”
“She kept asking. You don’t know how many times I would try to avoid her, but she has some kind of weird radar. She always seemed to know where I was. I finally gave in only because I thought she’d go away.”
“You have a grumpy exterior. Why didn’t you use that on her?”
“I tried. Apparently she’s immune.”
We finished up and I asked him if I could take a quick shower. Still in my polyester uniform and my hair in a tight bun, and the smell of coffee in my pores, I hadn’t quite hit my relaxation mood.
“Sure. I’ll clean up in here.”
I grabbed my stuff and went into his tiny beige bathroom. I closed the door but didn’t lock it. A small part of me hoped he’d join me, but knowing Jason like I did, I didn’t expect it. I ran the water to my desired temperature, pulled the bun out of my hair and discarded my clothes. I swore I smelled like coffee, the bitter acidic kind mixed in with the stale airport smell. I couldn’t stand it. I stepped into his bathtub shower and let the water fall all over me. I washed my hair and felt the relief of it no longer being pulled tight. While I let the conditioner sit, I smelled his shampoo and soap and let out a sigh. It all smelled so delicious.
To my disappointment, he didn’t join me. Instead I towel-dried my hair and let it fall around my shoulders. I didn’t plan on blow-drying it out. This way it would have a touch of a wave. I put on my comfy yoga pants and a fitted T-shirt. His apartment was still warm so I didn’t need my U of M sweat top. I was putting on a touch of makeup when I realized I was staring into his medicine cabinet mirror. Normally not an overly nosy person, I delicately opened the door so as to not let it squeak and peeked inside. The only thing I was looking for were condoms, but none were there. Other than some Q-Tips, toothpaste, a toothbrush, aftershave, and aspirin, there was nothing of interest.
“Want to watch a movie?” he asked when I reentered the living room.
“Sure, why not,” I said, in a repeat of our last time here.
Honestly, I didn’t care which movie we watched. It could have been a twelve-hour documentary on the lives of fruit flies—which ironically probably didn’t live that long—as long as I got to cuddle with him. I wanted to be near him and never leave, and that scared me a bit. We were still in the infancy of our relationship and to get so attached to him so fast would only lead to heartbreak, especially if he got wind of my feelings. He seemed like the kind of guy who’d get spooked and bolt.
He picked a shoot-‘em-up movie and I sat next to him politely like a girl in Sunday school. The minute the movie started, he reached out to me and gently pulled me into his arms. I rested my head against his chest, nuzzling in a little and wrapping my arm around his waist. Do I remember what the movie was about? Not really. There were some bad guys and they had a lot of guns and that’s when I drifted off to sleep. The next time I opened my eyes the movie credits were rolling. I sat up.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You look cute when you’re sleeping. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”
I rubbed my eyes and looked at my watch. “I missed midnight.”
“Yeah, you didn’t miss much. Nothing happened.”
“Come on! We were supposed to ring in the year together.”
“We were together.”
He stood and went into the kitchen, retrieving the champagne and two glasses. “We can drink to the new year now,” he said, popping the cork and pouring two glasses. He handed me one and gave me a bit of boyish grin. “To a great new year?”
“Yes, definitely.”
I leaned back on the sofa and savored my champagne. This year couldn’t possibly be any worse than the previous two. I was due for a good one, and as I glanced over at Jason, I knew it had to finally be my year.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m thinking that I’d like you to kiss me.”
“I can do that.”
His lips were so soft on mine. My body tingled as his arms intertwined around me. Despite the fact I was tiny compared to his size, his touch was always gentle.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I said breathlessly.
He scooped me up and I let out a shriek of laughter. He truly was a prince, and I prayed that he wouldn’t turn out to be a toad. He took me into the bedroom and tenderly laid me out on the bed. He pulled off his clothes and I did the same, biting down on my lower lip so much it started to hurt. Within seconds he was on top of me kissing and exploring. The anticipation flooded through me as his hand slipped between my legs, gently massaging me. My body arched forward as a groan escaped me.
“I want you inside me,” I said breathlessly.
He smiled and our eyes locked. The gaze was so intense, so binding, and I knew then that I could trust him, that he’d never hurt me.
He reached into his nightstand and pulled out a condom. I waited anxiously as he put it on and then he was between my legs, then slowly inside me. I gasped. It had been a long time and my body seemed to forget what it was like to have sex.
“Am I hurting you?” Jason asked.
“No,” I said, kissing him passionately. “Don’t stop.”
He felt good, moving inside me slowly at first, and I felt a sensation building inside me that I’d never felt before. A mixture of heat and surging pleasure, and all at once I came, letting out a satisfied moan. Jason’s breath quickened and he came too, and I smiled, pleased and spent as Jason placed one long, last kiss on my lips. He was a keeper.
CHAPTER 11
I couldn’t sleep. It was after three in the morning and I was lying naked in bed, cocooned in Jason’s arms. His head was resting against my shoulder, his light, even breath tickling my shoulder. Eric didn’t cuddle after sex. He usually got up and started watching television. He also couldn’t bring me to an orgasm. I’d fake my way through it, especially if he was being rough. He and Jason were so different. And I hated that at this moment, I was giving Eric even a second of my thoughts. He didn’t deserve it.
I closed my eyes and relived the last few hours. My body had finally come down from the high, his touch, the way he felt inside of me. I shuddered with delight just at the thought, feeling my body respond too. I wanted to wake him up, climb on top of him and have my way with him again. It was nice to have sex and not feel like my vagina had gone nine rounds.
I pulled his arm tighter around me and he stirred. He let out a weak moan and snuggled in even closer. Within seconds he was back asleep. Soon I, too, drifted off to sleep.
I AWOKE IN THE MORNING to an empty bed and the smell of brewed coffee. I listened for any noise, but didn’t hear a sound. I put on my shirt and underwear and padded into
the main area. Jason was nowhere to be found, but there was a note on the front door on a yellow Post-it telling me he’d gone to the gym. I considered: coffee first, or a shower? The latter won out. I discarded what little clothes I had on and stepped under the hot water. In the depths of despair at the Whellam house, when my parents were doing everything they could to save the restaurants, when the house was so thick with tension and dread at what loomed in the not-so-distant future, I’d escape to a shower. The hot water beating down on me felt safe, oddly the only place I found escape from all the pressure building in our lives.
During this black year Dad didn’t sleep, Mom cried a lot, and I was in a constant state of panic and fear. I was scared for everyone and I hated that I couldn’t keep it under control. That’s when I had to take a semester off, and the doctor prescribed Paxil to keep me sane. For so long my family had sheltered me from what had been going on, let me travel with my friends without a care in the world, and when the truth finally came to light, I couldn’t cope. I couldn’t handle the stress around me. My world was collapsing around me like an avalanche and I felt buried under fifty feet of snow.
My grandfather—the pillar that kept our family strong—was fading, but even with months to live, knowing we were coming apart at the seams, he protected us. He set aside money for me to continue going to college, he set up trusts for my sister and brother, and he paid off my parents’ mortgage. He left nothing to chance. He saved us, but I would have given it all back just to have more time with him. To have him share his wisdom with me, to give me a pep talk, to nurture my dreams, but most importantly, for me to make him proud.
“Gracie?”
I nearly fell out of the shower at hearing Jason’s voice. I peeked around the shower curtain. “Hi,” I said.
“You got my note?”
“I did.”
“Should I make breakfast?”
I bit down on my lower lip before smiling mischievously. “You could make breakfast, or you could join me?”
“Yeah, but I showered at the—” He stopped. “I’m an idiot.” He tore off his clothes and slipped into the shower with me. His lips were on mine, his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. We made love in the shower, something I’d never done before.
“I could do this all day,” he said afterwards, wrapping a fluffy beige towel around me and kissing the tip of my nose.
“Me too,” I murmured.
We dressed and made our way to the kitchen. We were both famished.
“For breakfast I thought I’d make omelets. I’ve got cheese, mushrooms, green peppers, onions, and tomatoes for yours. Does that work?” he asked.
“Wow, that’s great.”
“I couldn’t find any tofu bacon.”
“No problem.”
I whipped eggs and stole a million glances at him. His wet blond hair was curling up at the ends and his shirt fit so perfectly that each muscle was dutifully defined. I thought about us in the shower and had to wipe the image from my mind and focus on breakfast.
“Hash browns?”
“Love them.”
“Toast?”
“Who doesn’t love carbs?”
He expertly negotiated the kitchen. He had hash browns sautéing on the stove, bread ready to go into the toaster, an assortment of jams, honey, and peanut butter that he put on the table, and he was chopping vegetables for our omelets.
“This is quite the spread. And the jams and honey aren’t even opened.”
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I picked them up.”
A warmth flooded my body. He’d done this all for me. Little ol’ me. The three varieties of jams, honey, assortment of vegetables, the fruit tray I’d seen earlier in the refrigerator. Suddenly I felt my eyes welling up with tears, and I refused to let him see that. I went to the dinette table and pretended to read the labels on the jams so that I could compose myself.
“Whole wheat, rye, or white bread for your toast?” he called.
“Whole wheat,” I said in an overly cheerful voice. He didn’t seem to notice anything.
With breakfast preparation complete, we sat down to our feast. The first few minutes were spent in silence as we both refueled from the night before.
“More coffee?” Jason asked, rising and heading into the kitchen.
“I’d love more coffee.”
He refreshed my cup and took his seat again. “You work tonight?” he asked.
“No, but I’m on the next three days. We should sync our schedules.”
“Good idea. Mine is pretty consistent except the holidays.”
“I’m on full time right now, but Cathy is pretty flexible.”
Jason grabbed a rye toast and lathered it with peanut butter. I wanted to reach out and touch his hands, and just as my hand made movement towards his, I caught myself before he noticed.
“So there’s this party on the tenth,” I said. “It’s a winter break party before classes resume, and before you say no, I’d really like you to come. You can meet my friends. And there are lots of people who go who’ve already graduated.”
He frowned. “I’m pretty sure a twenty-seven-year-old former military guy isn’t on the top of the list of invitees. Is this a frat party?”
“No. It’s a house party. There’s usually thirty or forty people there. Anita is hosting the party. And if it would make you more comfortable, you could meet her before then.”
“I’m going to be the oldest person there.”
“No, you’re not.”
His eyes narrowed. “You are such a shitty liar.”
“Okay, you don’t have to come.”
He looked at me for a long time, clearly mulling things over. “How long do we have to stay?”
“An hour or two. Not a minute longer.”
“Who’s going to be there?”
“Anita, of course, and then a few of our friends, a few of her boyfriend’s friends. I’m not sure who else. My ex-friend Callie might be there, but I don’t know if she’ll show up.”
“Ex-friend? Do I want to know what happened?”
I sipped my coffee in an attempt to stall. What did I tell him? Did I want to get into the sordid history, or was minimizing it a better alternative? I set down my cup and shrugged. “Eric is her brother. I broke up with him so she blamed me for it. For breaking his heart.”
“You don’t seem like much of a heartbreaker.”
Suddenly the room had taken on a different atmosphere, a chill that seemed to envelop me. Jason’s blue eyes were focused directly on me, staring into me and waiting for an answer. My mouth became dry and I wanted to get out of there, but I was stuck to my seat.
“I don’t think I broke his heart, but he lets Callie think that. Eric doesn’t have a heart.” My voice had taken a cold turn and as I spoke, Jason watched me, his eyes never leaving my face.
“So he broke your heart?”
“He broke my trust.”
“He cheated on you,” he deduced.
I shook my head. “No.”
I felt myself withering under his gaze, especially once he figured it out. “He hurt you,” he said with dejection. “What did he do?” Jason’s voice changed, more matter of fact as anger rose up within him. I could see his face flushing.
“It’s not important.”
“It’s important. What did he do?”
I didn’t want to talk about it. I felt panic begin to rise, my heartbeat quicken, and my body in a sudden sweat. Just the thought of that night still scared me. “I’ll tell you another time.”
“Have you ever told anyone?”
How could he see through me so easily? “I told Ellen.”
“I want you to tell me too. It’s not like I know who it is. I’m not going to show up at his house with a rifle.”
The blood pumping through my head made my mind start to cloud. “I don’t want to tell you.”
He reached out and took my hand, squeezing it tightly. “If you purge it, it won’t be so bad.”
My mouth started moving before I had a chance to stop it. “He tried to rape me.”
Jason’s lower lip twitched for a second, but no other part of him moved.
“He hit me in the face, split my lip, threw me down on the floor. He was mad at me because I didn’t want to have sex with him. I didn’t like having sex with him because he made me do things I didn’t want to do and he was always so rough. Sometimes I’d try to find excuses to avoid sleeping with him, and then that day he snapped. He pinned me down and ripped off my jeans and underwear. Just as he was pulling down his pants, he let one of my arms go free. Then the self-defense class I took in high school came back to me. Go for the grapes, pull down and twist, so I did. He screamed in pain, writhing on the floor and grabbing his balls. I got up, kicked him in the balls three more times, grabbed my clothes, and told him if he ever came near me again, I’d tell—and that I wouldn’t rest until I ruined his life. That was that. You’re the only other person I’ve told.”
Something had taken over in me to keep me calm and emotionless. I thought that when the day finally came, when I revealed the events of that evening, I’d be a sobbing mess, but instead I was to the point, no sugarcoating it.
“I took pictures just in case,” I added. “Of my fat lip, the bruises on my arms. He didn’t apologize, not that it would have changed my mind. I told him I never wanted to see him again. I don’t think he cared, but he manipulated his sister. Told her I dumped him for no reason.”
“Why didn’t you call the cops?” Jason said softly.
“I just wanted to forget about it. I didn’t want to relive it over and over again. Besides, I didn’t think anyone would believe me. Everyone thinks Eric is some saint.”
“Gracie, you’ve got to tell.”
“No! It’s over with. He is out of my life, why tell now?” I could feel emotion finally kicking in.
“Was he drunk? Is that why you are forgiving this?”
“No, he was very sober. At that time my parents were losing the first restaurant and my grandfather had been told his cancer was terminal. The stress I was going through was pretty unbearable. The last thing I wanted to do was deal with this. Sometimes things happen for a reason, so when he assaulted me, it gave me the best reason to leave him.”