Mustard on Top

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Mustard on Top Page 17

by Wanda Degolier


  “It’s because I have no life,” Ben said.

  Helen eyed him. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Her feet ached from standing, well, running all day, so she slid off her shoes and rubbed one.

  “Let me do that,” Ben said.

  “Do what?”

  He sat next to her on the love seat. “Give me your foot.”

  “Uh.” A foot rub sounded wonderful, yet Ben’s nearness scrambled her neurons. “Not necessary. I’m good.”

  “I won’t bite.” Ben got up, slid the chair close, and sat across from her. He reached for her foot, cupped the heel, and drew it into his lap. His warm hand sent tendrils of energy up her leg. He gently squeezed one toe then another. “Is this pressure okay?”

  The sensation had a dizzying effect. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to. You deserve it.”

  “Okay.” She dragged okay out as if she were conceding. Wrapping his fingers over the top of her foot, Ben pressed his thumbs into the ball of her foot and rhythmically kneaded. Helen rested her head on the arm of the love seat.

  His touch, strong yet gentle, sparked her imagination. Surely, he’d be a different lover than eighteen years earlier. Why am I going there? She blew out a frustrated breath.

  Ben’s hands stopped moving. “You okay?”

  Helen’s face flushed when her gaze, of its own volition, lowered to his crotch before returning to his eyes. “Just worn out.”

  “Relax. Do you have any massage lotion?”

  Helen guffawed. “Oodles of it. No.” Ben’s smile made him appear sad rather than happy, and Helen wished she’d held her tongue.

  “How about hand lotion?”

  “Next to the kitchen sink.”

  Ben left and returned with the lotion, a bottle of red wine, and two cups. He set them on the coffee table.

  “What a nice surprise. Where’d you get the wine?”

  “From the grocery store.”

  “Oh.” Strange she’d forgotten other people could contribute to her household.

  “I couldn’t find any wineglasses.” Ben opened the wine bottle.

  “I don’t own any. My life’s been more about pizza and soda pop than wine and hors d’oeuvres.”

  Ben handed her a cup. “Does Theo have friends over a lot?”

  “He used to, before all his friends…” Went off to college. “This house used to be a regular Grand Central Station.” Helen sipped her wine. “This is good.” She couldn’t remember the last glass of wine she’d drunk.

  “The wine’s a La Sirena Syrah.”

  “French?”

  “California.”

  “I meant to say that.”

  Ben cracked a smile and set his cup on the end table. He picked up the lotion. “Both feet please.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Very.”

  Helen put her feet in his warm lap. Ben squeezed a puddle of lotion onto his hands then rubbed the slick, cool substance into her neglected skin. Her wine glass poise at her mouth, she closed her eyes. “How much would you charge to do this every night?”

  “A DerFoodle Dog or two.”

  Helen smiled. “You’re cheap.”

  “So my clients tell me.”

  “Speaking of clients, are things okay with you taking so much time off?”

  “Nah, but this trip has forced me to prioritize what’s important.”

  “I hope you don’t get in trouble when you get back.” The wine made her a little giddy. “Tomorrow I’m off. I can’t wait to sleep in and relax. Yay.”

  “Do you want to do something fun?”

  Her automatic protest was slowed by the wine and Ben’s magical fingers. Belatedly she said, “We should finish the roof.”

  Methodically, Ben massaged while Helen sipped through her second cup of wine. Her eyelids drooped, and the tension of her day seemed to be escaping through her toes. “So nice,” she whispered.

  The next think she knew, Ben was tugging the cup of wine from her hand. Helen, surprised to be awoken, pushed herself upright. “I must have dozed off.”

  “Go back to sleep.”

  “I should—” Helen told herself to get up, but her body had merged with the love seat.

  “Shh.” Ben slid his hand across the bottom of her foot, and sleep tugged her back under its spell. She woke with a start to discover Ben carrying her. She wriggled in his arms.

  “You’re not—”

  “Shh.” He kissed the top of her head. “I got you.”

  His muscular arms cradled her, and she was weak from sleep. “I can—”

  “We’re almost there.”

  They were about to squeeze through her bedroom door, so she stopped struggling and pressed into him making herself as small as possible. The full body contact heated her nether regions. She liked sex, cuddling, and a warm body beside her while she slept. She missed having a lover. “Stay with me.”

  Ben stopped moving and gazed at her. He lowered his head and gave her a kiss. Her mouth parted and the kiss grew deeper. Better than Helen’s fantasies, she had no doubt Ben had continued his playboy ways. She was certain he’d become a skilled lover. The thought sobered her.

  “I didn’t mean that.” Helen squirmed to get out of his arms, and Ben set her down.

  “I have protection if you’re worried about that,” he said.

  Of course he would. The irony made Helen laugh. “Wouldn’t that be ironic? Another baby.”

  “You deny yourself too much.”

  “And you too little,” Helen shot back.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Please.”

  “Please what? I’m not the boy you knew in high school. I don’t sleep around.”

  Men like Ben collected women like some people collected stamps. Didn’t he? Her confidence in her own judgment wavered.

  When Ben slipped his arm around her, Helen bit her lip. Her mind and body warred. She wanted to fold into his arms and let down her guard.

  “As much as I love to, I’ve never had sex simply to have sex,” Helen said.

  Ben inhaled and his rib cage pressed into her. “What can I do to earn your respect?” he asked.

  His question hit home; she didn’t respect him. “Selflessly act from your heart, not from your guilt,” she answered.

  Ben’s other arm swung around her encasing her in his embrace. “The foot rub was from my heart.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I do love your feet.”

  “Just not the rest of me.” The statement had popped out, and Helen regretted how childish she sounded.

  “Ouch.” Ben let her go.

  “My apologies.”

  “I’m not sure I even know what love is.” Ben’s voice grew serious. “You’re right. My life has been dominated by my own desires, though not nearly as badly as you imagine. I changed after that night, I…” He sucked in a breath of air, puffing his cheeks out. Slowly they deflated buying him time. “I haven’t… Can I hold you awhile? You feel good in my arms.”

  Tired and tipsy, Helen feared she’d topple over. Being held, even cherished a little, sounded pleasant. She leaned into him, laying her head against his chest. His chin rested lightly on the top of her head.

  “I’m going to fall asleep,” Helen confessed.

  “Lay down with me.”

  “Uh.”

  “I won’t try anything. I promise.”

  “For a little while.” Fully clothed, Ben lay on top of the covers then held his hands out in invitation. Helen slid in next to him. She lay on her side, fitting her shoulder perfectly beneath his armpit while her head rested on his chest. When Ben wrapped both arms around her, Helen let a slow smile spread across her face.

  Ben stroked her hair. “Helen?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you for being a great mother to Theo. You’re my hero.”

  Helen yawned. “Silly.” She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

  ****

  Helen woke w
hen the front door slammed. She discovered Ben lying next to her in bed and bolted upright. She remembered lying down and nothing else.

  “Mom!” Theo yelled from the hallway.

  Used to her celibacy, Theo had a habit of barging into her room. Horrified he’d find them in bed, Helen threw off the covers and stood. Ha! She was fully dressed. She headed toward her bedroom door when it swung open.

  “Mom.”

  Helen froze. “Theo! Out!”

  Theo didn’t budge. Instead, his gaze drifted toward Ben. “Oops, sorry.”

  Heat rushed to her face. “What are you doing here? You are not supposed to be here. Jeremy. Remember?”

  “You said there didn’t seem to be anyone watching.”

  Helen pinched the bridge of her nose. “I asked you not to come here until Jeremy was gone.”

  “Sorry. I needed some clothes. All the ones I took with me are dirty.”

  Had Theo never heard of a laundromat? Helen heard movement and turned to find Ben sitting up and grinning. The smile vexed her until she remembered he always looked at Theo with that goofy grin. Ben was wrong about love. He loved Theo.

  “Good morning Theo,” Ben chimed.

  “This isn’t what—” Helen started to protest the obvious conclusion, when Theo blurted, “Cool, is this the real reason you two didn’t want me here?”

  “Of course not.” Helen was incredulous. “Now out of my room.” Denying anything happened would only make her sound guilty. Besides, she didn’t owe him an explanation. The fact he looked delighted made her embarrassment worse.

  “I’ll leave my laundry in—”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” She made a shooing motion.

  “I’m going up to Seattle today with some friends.” Still he stood in the doorway like he wanted to chat. Why didn’t Ben say something to get him moving?

  “Okay.” Helen fought the urge to push him out and slam the door.

  “So where’s Jeremy?”

  “In the basement. Out.” Helen shoved Theo’s chest, and he finally stepped back.

  Theo grinned even wider. “I guess you two want your privacy.”

  “Theo. Ugh.” Helen closed the door in his face then turned to glare at Ben. “What are you doing in my bed?”

  Ben tossed the blanket aside revealing he, too, was fully dressed. “There wasn’t any harm done.”

  “No harm. Are you kidding me?”

  “You do realize Theo and Emma—”

  “Don’t say it.” Helen held up a hand. “This is so embarrassing. Getting caught when I hadn’t even done anything.” Helen muttered to herself, “Then he’s happy. That’s wrong on so many levels.” Helen paced. “I’ve got to say something to him. I can’t just leave things.”

  “He’s a mature kid, he can handle it,” Ben said. “Maybe he knows you need more in your life. Could be he’s relieved.”

  “Relieved?”

  “Relieved and happy for you.”

  Helen tried to recall Theo’s face. She’d been too embarrassed to pay attention.

  “It’ll be okay,” Ben soothed.

  Helen swung her gaze toward him. “I’ll be the one dealing with this after you leave, so don’t tell me it’ll be okay.”

  Ben held his hands up in surrender.

  In the following silence, Helen listened to Theo moving around the house.

  Jeremy’s raspy voice broke the relative quiet. “Don’t leave me. They’re holding me hostage!”

  “I’ll go to him.” Ben got up.

  The bedroom door flew open again. “Jeremy looks awful,” Theo said. “And something stinks bad in the basement.”

  “I’m going down to him right now.” Ben passed through the door. His backward glance told Helen their conversation wasn’t over.

  “I opened the doors to air out the house,” Theo announced.

  Helen’s headache flared up, and she squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Theo, about me and Ben—”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. I think it’s cool. I’m glad you finally found someone.”

  “I didn’t find him—It’s not like… Ugh. We’re just friends.”

  “I’m not a kid anymore, I see the way you look at each other.”

  Helen’s mouth dropped open.

  “I’ve got to go, Emma’s waiting in the car. We good?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll catch you later.”

  Chapter 12

  Ben dreaded going into the basement and was pleasantly surprised to find Jeremy sitting up and watching The Price is Right. With the remote clutched in one hand, Jeremy ignored him. The stink Ben had come to associate with Jeremy lingered, but there was nothing new to clean up.

  Some color had returned to his cheeks, although he still hadn’t eaten any food.

  Ben grabbed the empty water bottle and ascended the stairs to the kitchen where he planned to make Jeremy’s elixir. Helen stood by the refrigerator drinking a glass of milk. She, too, was pale and her features drawn.

  “You okay?” Ben asked.

  She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Sorry if I made things worse. I’ll tell Theo whatever you want me to about us.”

  Helen waved him off. “You were right. He’s happy, elated even, with the idea of us.” She made a pained face when she said the word us. “He’s going to be disappointed when you leave.” She gulped her milk.

  “I want to remain friends. I’ll be back to visit often.”

  Helen’s smile was straight and tight and her gaze unwavering.

  “Jeremy is getting better,” Ben said to change the topic.

  “That’s good news.”

  “I’m mixing up a new batch of his medicine.”

  “Great. I think I’ll go check on Agatha.”

  Apprehension pricked his nerves. “I’m coming with you.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “But Moe’s car is parked out front. I saw it this morning.”

  Helen drew in a deep breath. “I know. If Agatha doesn’t open the door then we can panic.”

  “Helen.”

  “If we both go, it’ll look suspicious.”

  “How about I pull weeds in the front yard? You can give me some kind of signal showing me everything’s okay,” Ben said. “Or not.”

  “Fine. I’ll flip my hair over my shoulder if everything’s okay; if not I’ll stick both my hands in my pant’s pockets.”

  “Good plan.”

  Ben followed her out the front door. Under the guise of pulling weeds, he watched Helen knock. Agatha opened the door and stepped onto the porch. A few minutes later, Helen flipped her hair and Ben returned to tending Jeremy. After mixing his concoction and making a fresh sandwich, he went downstairs.

  “How are you feeling?” Ben stepped in front of the television and set the food on the box of records, moonlighting as a coffee table.

  “Like a caged tiger,” Jeremy snarled.

  “You look better.”

  Jeremy eyed the food. “When can I get this off my foot and get out of here?”

  No curse words, Ben noted. They’d made progress. “Helen’s meeting with your mom as we speak, so hopefully we’ll have an answer for you soon.”

  Jeremy stared at the television as if Ben weren’t blocking his view.

  “You probably ought to eat something,” Ben said.

  When Jeremy didn’t respond, Ben went back upstairs and peeked out the front window. Helen and Agatha were no longer on the porch. He gathered his tools and got to work on the roof, a better place for keeping watch.

  Helen had been gone an hour before Agatha’s pink Mercedes came down the alley. Agatha drove, and Helen sat in the passenger’s seat. Ben exhaled sweet relief and forced himself to focus on finishing the roof.

  Later, Helen joined him on the rooftop. She wore a T-shirt, work jeans, and work gloves and her wet hair glistened in the sunlight. When she smiled at him, Ben’s mouth went dry. The woman got prettier by the minute. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Oh stop.�


  “You honestly don’t seem to know.” Used to women using their beauty to get ahead, he found Helen refreshing.

  Helen shook her head. He’d been drawn to her as a teen because she was beautiful on the outside, now he was mature enough to recognize her inner beauty and strength. The combination intoxicated him.

  Helen crawled up the side of the roof, picked up a shingle, and sang, “We’re almost done.”

  “So what’s going on with Agatha?”

  Helen glanced at Agatha’s house, scooted closer, and whispered, “Not sure we should talk up here. I’ll tell you later.”

  “I saw her drive off.”

  Helen held a finger to her lips. Although Ben doubted anyone could hear them, he agreed to wait.

  “What do you think?” Helen surveyed the roof. “Will we finish today?”

  “We should.”

  ****

  Ben sliced through the last shingle, cutting it to size, and offered it to Helen. “You want to do the honors?”

  “Sure.” Helen accepted the shingle.

  Ben scooted out of her way, and Helen caught a whiff of his aftershave. The smell conjured the memory of the kiss they’d shared the night before. Helen drew in a breath, annoyed her how easily Ben had wriggled his way into her heart.

  After positioning the shingle into place, she scanned the rooftop. “This is fantastic.” She pounded one nail in and was positioning for the next when a large white, windowless van pulled in front of her house. She glanced at Ben.

  “You stay here. I’ll find out what’s happening,” he said.

  Helen thought Ben was overprotective, but was grateful to have someone worrying about her. Helen followed Ben to the ladder. “Please stay up here where I know you’re safe. Please.”

  Crossing her arms her over chest, Helen dropped onto her butt.

  “Thank you.” In a quick move, Ben pecked her on the cheek then scrambled down the ladder.

  A side-panel door on the van opened, and a man popped out carrying a clipboard. The interior of the van exploded with color. Flowers? The van driver scanned the front of Helen’s home then consulted his clipboard. Helen assumed the flowers were for Agatha. The deliveryman leaned into the van and lifted out a bouquet big enough to cover her entire dining room table. He walked toward Ben.

 

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