The End of Summer

by Alex M. Smith

  I wondered what she was trying to prove, that she was not jealous or that she didn’t care about me. I was really confused right now, and in the midst of all that confusion, I realized that I wanted Becca more than ever. I wanted to spend the night with her, not with anyone else. I wanted her to be mine, and most of all, I wanted to be hers.

  As soon as we walked out of the restaurant, Becca told us to go ahead, and she would meet us there after she changed her clothes. She didn’t give anyone a chance to object. She didn't give me a chance to look into her eyes to know what she was really up to or how she really felt. She just turned around and started walking away.

  Lyn hailed a cab, and we all went in. We went past Becca as we were going round the curve. She stood there, holding the package and my iPad, and waited for us to pass before crossing the street. I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

  It was a short ride to Zinc, but all the mixed feelings and thoughts made it feel like an eternity. All I could think about was Becca, the sensual and beautiful Becca. The way she held my hand and the way she touched my hair. I could still smell her intoxicating scent. Her breath was still touching my face, and she was still breathing life in me as she did when she kissed me and electrified all my senses.

  “Are you gonna get that?” Lyn snapped at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your phone?!” Lyn said pointing at my phone.

  “Sorry! Hello… yeah… Hi, Edith… Oh was it tonight? Sorry I missed it. Where are you now? I’ll come in a bit. Anyway, I have to talk to you about something… Ok bye!”

  “Listen guys. That was my mom, I was supposed to see her play tonight, and I forgot all about it. I have to go see her. I will join you later,” I said as the cab was pulling over.

  “You have to see her tonight? We are already here,” Lyn said.

  “Dude, what about Caroline?” Joe said and moved his fist sideways implying fucking.

  Lyn elbowed him as I said, “I have all night for that. Now I have to do this.” I let them out of the cab and got back in. Joe shouted something at the closed cab window. I mimed, “I can’t hear you,” and turned to the cab driver and said, “Sixty-First and Fifth.”

  One Act Play

  Edith, as my mom preferred to be called, lived for the past three years in a high-rise on Fifth Avenue with a stunning view of the park. I stayed there a couple of days last year, and it was beautiful, but when Dad was in town, we always got together the three of us at the house in the village. My parents were always village people, real artists, but when you make it and cash in on your art, some things change inside you. You become part of the industry, and your priorities change. Edith, who used to rally to save the trees, is now driven around town in a limo. She flies around in private jets and drinks Dom Perignon on front porch of her summer house in South Lake Tahoe.

  Nick, my dad, on the other hand, although as famous and wealthy as mom is, went the other way and lived a more simple and practical life. On a trip to the south of France, he met a woman who had just inherited a vineyard. A couple of months later, he and Mom separated, he married Marie, and he practically lives with her most of his time. He makes wine and sends me a dozen cases every year. But Dad being Dad, he can’t leave his camera for more than a couple of days in a row and came up with an idea during his first winemaking season. He now publishes a Wine Models wall calendar: Nude models making wine. It was a hit from the first issue, and this year alone it sold nine million copies.

  The doorman greeted me as he opened the door to Edith’s building, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Reagan.”

  “Nice to see you too, Roger, is Edith in?” I asked.

  “Certainly. She is expecting you, sir,” he eloquently said.

  “Thanks,” I replied casually.

  Since Mom and Dad never got married, and Mom was never married before or after, she never was a Mrs. Anyone. She doesn’t use her last name either or Miss or Ms. or any of that “crap”, to put it in her own words. She was simply Edith. On the other hand, I was Richard Alexander Ernest Amadeus Reagan. Yes indeed, that was my full name. When I asked my mom why she chose that name for me, she said that I should have five names with the initials reading the same backwards and forwards, without any other explanation of why the hell that made any significance to anyone, but that was mom’s way, and no one can argue with “Lady Edith.”

  The ride took less than a minute to reach the twenty-eighth floor, with only one interruption from a couple on the twelfth floor, who instead of pushing the down button, pushed the up button. I rang her doorbell twice before I heard someone coming. That someone was for sure not my mom because he or she was running to the door. Mom would walk but never run.

  “Can I help you?” The shirtless young man at the door asked me.

  “Who the hell are you?” I asked firmly.

  “I’m …” he started to say something when Edith appeared from behind him, “Richard, darling, come in.”

  She gave me a kiss on both cheeks without her lips touching my face. I kept looking at the shirtless guy as he closed the door and came and put his arm around Edith’s waist. I kept staring at them together until Edith said, “Oh, Richard, this is Kevin, the star of my new play.” She paused for a second and continued, “My son, Richard.”

  “Nice to meet you, Richard,” Kevin said and held out his hand to shake mine.

  Ignoring him completely, I asked Edith, “Can he at least put his shirt on?”

  “Kevin, honey, could you give us a moment? Thank you, darling,” Edith said with a firm voice and a smile.

  Edith went to the couch across the room as I watched Kevin disappear into the other room. I didn’t move, and I turned to Edith as she poured champagne in two glasses, took one in her hand and looked at me and said, “Come sit next to me and have some champagne. Tonight is a big night for both of us.”

  “Both you and Kevin, you didn’t get married did you?” I asked, still standing close to the door.

  “Don’t be silly, sweetheart. It’s a big night for you and me,” she said sarcastically.

  “I didn’t get you mom,” I said, approaching her and sitting down next to her.

  She handed me the glass of champagne and I took a sip. It was one of the best champagnes I ever had. She took an envelope from the side table and gave it to me. I took it but hesitated a little.

  “Well, come on. Open it,” she urged me.

  I opened it and took out a check. A check with my name on it for fifty thousand dollars. I looked inside the envelope for at least a note to explain this sudden influx of money, but it was empty. I turned to Edith, holding the check with a, “what the hell is that for?” Look on my face.

  “It is your share from tonight’s play’s advance. There will be many like this one still to come,” Edith spoke casually, as if it is a daily occurrence for me to get this amount of money.

  I looked at her still not getting it and said, “Come again?”

  “If you came and watched the play tonight, you wouldn’t need any explanations,” she said.

  “But I didn’t,” I clarified.

  “I based the play on you when you were seventeen. Kevin is you,” she explained.

  “Oh man! Edith, what the fuck? You ran out of people and things to talk about, and you turned to your own family?” I said in an irritated voice.

  “Richard, it is a beautiful play. It’s going to be a great success,” she assured me.

  “Edith, I don’t care. You exposed me in front of the whole world,” I countered.

  “Oh! No one will know it was you,” she said.

  “But you know, Ma, and I know. Did you ever think about that?” I said that and stood up.

  “Richard, sit down. Don’t be silly,” she commanded.

  “I don’t want this.” I tossed the check on the table in front of me and rushed to the door.

  “Richard, wait.” Edith took the check off the table and walked towards me.

  “Edith, go back to your boyfriend,�
�� I cynically said.

  She slapped me on my shoulder and snapped. “How dare you talk to me like that? Do you think I don’t have the right to live?”

  I turned to leave but she grabbed me and turned me around, “look at me, your dad fucked every model he photographed, right under my nose.”

  “Mom. That’s not what I meant,” I started to say.

  “And now what does he do? He gathers a dozen of his teenage whores and take their pictures and presents them to the world as wine virgins,” she said with sorrow.

  “We don’t have to do this right now. Listen. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said while hugging her.

  “Richard, I’m forty-eight now. Soon I’ll be an old woman, and no one will look at me. Everybody will say how beautiful I was, not how beautiful I am. Do you know how much that hurts?” She said, while looking straight into my eyes.

  I took her hand, kissed it, and said, “You are Edith, the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  She smiled at me. “Nonsense. You say that because I used to let you eat chocolate ice cream and skip dinner.”

  “I still do,” I said, while smiling.

  “Take this. It’s yours. You will make me happy.” She said as she handed me the check. Then she asked me, “Tell me. What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Later,” I said, I took the check, kissed her goodnight, opened the door, and went out. As she closed the door behind me, I heard her calling playfully, “Kevin, come dear, let’s rehears your role one more time.”

  Chivalry after Midnight

  I arrived at Zinc at almost half past eleven. I looked everywhere, and neither Lyn nor Joe nor Becca were in sight. I went to the bar and ordered a double Jack Daniels on the rocks.

  “Hey Frank ,did you see Joe?” I asked the bartender.

  “You just missed him. He left five minutes ago with his girlfriend,” Frank answered without looking at me.

  “Was there anyone with them?” I asked again.

  “I dunno, man. Excuse me.” Speaking to another patron, he said, “One Cosmo, coming up.”

  “Hey, you came!” Caroline called from behind me and put her hand on my shoulder and kissed me.

  “It’s been a month since I came here,” I answered.

  “You wanna buy me a drink?” She asked playfully, and she looked drunk already as she was hardly able to stand straight.

  I asked her, “How many drinks did you have?”

  She put up her fingers and said, “Three beers and six, no, seven tequila shots.” Then, out of the blue, she threw herself on me and kissed me, while wrapping her arms around me. Her tequila breath was too much for me.

  Shortly afterwards, someone tapped on my shoulder. Caroline released me, and I turned around. It was her ex-boyfriend, Simon. Caroline leaned against me and with her arms around me started kissing my neck.

  “Simon,” I said.

  “Richard,” he replied.

  “What’s up, man?” I asked him.

  “Are you dating this bitch now?” He asked referring to Caroline.

  “You mean your mom? I went out with her a couple of ti..” I said fishing for violent reaction.

  Before I could continue, Simon swung a punch at me, but I ducked, and he lost his balance and fell. I took that as my cue, put twenty dollars on the bar and left. As soon as I was outside I texted Joe.

  “whr r u?”

  “@my place, wth lyn”

  “lft Z early”

  “hv mtng wth fkng lyr tom”

  “gd lk”

  If they are both at Joe’s place, then Becca must be staying alone at Lyn’s house. It seems she didn’t come back as she said she would. I thought of going there to see her. What’s the worst that would happen, I thought. She will not let me in, but she will know how much I want her.

  I hailed a cab, and before I could get in, Caroline rushed out of the bar towards me. And as soon as she came close, she threw up right on the cab’s back wheel. Some of it splattered and hit my jeans. I closed the door of the cab and held Caroline up and took her to a less busy part of the street. We sat at the curb. She looked awful, and I felt sorry for her.

  As soon as she calmed down a little, she told me how she saw Simon with his new girlfriend and that she slapped her across the face just before she saw me in the bar. I laughed because I figured out why Simon tried to punch me. He was defending the honor of his girlfriend, who was slapped by his ex, by punching her allegedly boyfriend. What a cunning plan I thought, and laughed as I brought Caroline to her feet, put her in a cab, and took her home.

  Five flights up, we reached Caroline’s apartment. She was just dragging her feet as I moved her up step after step. After managing to fish her key out of her bag, I opened the door. It swung open, and I immediately heard the sounds of a couple having passionate sex. In her living room, there was Amanda, her roommate, having sex with some guy I recognized from college. They were fully naked and doing it doggy style. Barging in startled them, and they stopped for a moment. Amanda covered her dangling breasts with her hand. Her friend didn’t move from behind her.

  “What happened to her?” Amanda asked.

  “She had too much to drink. Where’s her room?” I asked.

  “The door on the left. We share the same room her bed is on the right.”

  I put Caroline on her bed and took her shoes off. After a few seconds, the little lovebirds in the living room resumed their activity, and Caroline was almost asleep. I helped her out of her dirty clothes and left her in her bra and panties. As I was putting the covers over her, while half asleep, she murmured, “Take me, I’m all yours,” and she passed out.

  She made me laugh, that girl. I waited a little bit on the edge of her bed till the sounds in the living room subsided, and a few minutes after I heard the door close. Amanda came in wearing her underwear, and she crashed on her bed.

  “Are you staying?” She asked.

  “I was just leaving. Didn’t want to disturb your love making twice in the same night,” I said as I stood up and walked toward the bedroom door. “Open or shut?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “The bedroom door, you want it open or shut?” I said again.

  “Open,” she said.

  “Goodnight,” I said as I went out.

  I left Caroline’s house a little bit after midnight, and all I could think of was Becca and how desperately I wanted to be with her. I walked through the streets, past the drug addicts and the drunks hiding in the shadows of old buildings. I thought about my own life and how I am living in the shadows of my own parents. I can’t be just anyone, I had to be exceptional. I can’t be a character in a play that someone else wrote. I have to write my own play. I have to rewrite my own life.

  That night, I reached home, took off my soiled jeans and t-shirt and I threw them in the garbage. I took a shower and washed that dreadful night off me. I opened a bottle of wine from my dad’s vineyard, took out my laptop, and started writing.

  Fever in the Morning

  I woke up at nine the next morning, with a terrible headache, and the bed drenched with sweat. I tried to move, but my head hurt, and almost all my body ached. It couldn’t be the wine. I must be sick or something. I hate being sick.

  I took my phone and called Joe, “Hey,” I said barely above a whisper.

  “Richard!?” Joe asked.

  “Yeah it’s me!” I said,

  “You sound terrible,” he said anxiously.

  “It’s because I’m sick,” I clarified.

  “Listen, I can’t talk to you right now. I’m with the company lawyers, will stop by later,” he said abruptly.

  “Don’t sign anything before you read it,” I quickly reverted

  “Got to go,” he said quickly and hung up.

  I tried to get out of bed but I got dizzy, so I sat back down. I tried to open my laptop and look at it, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything, so I put it down. I put on the TV and was watching reruns of Seinfel
d, and then I started dreaming of something. Becca was talking to Lyn and telling her, “Poor boy, I’ll make him some chicken soup,” and Lyn was checking my pulse to see if I was alive.

  “You’re alive,” I heard Lyn saying.

  Still dazed and confused, I asked her, “How did you get in here?”

  “Joe called me and told me to stop by and check on you. I still have your keys from last time,” she said.

  Lyn was sitting on the edge of my bed, and she was wearing a red tank top and a short blue jean skirt. Her tan thighs and legs looked so sexy. In her hand, she was holding the iPad that Becca took with her last night. She handed it to me and said, “I guess this belongs to you.”

  I heard some noise coming from the other room. I looked at Lyn, waiting for some kind of explanation, when Becca appeared at my bedroom door. “Hey! You’re up,” she said cheerfully as she came closer and added, “You were sleeping like a baby.”

  Lyn leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, “She saw your teeny tiny Mr. Winky when we first came in.”

  “Fuck!” I whispered back, my eyes wide open.

  “The covers were off and …” she stopped as her mom came closer.

  “Mrs. Brooks, sorry you had to see me like this,” I said, and Lyn giggled, so I kicked her from under the sheets.

  “Nonsense. I made you some chicken soup and got you these,” she was holding Vicks and Zicam.

  “I wanna go check out your bathroom down the hall,” Lyn said, getting off the bed.

  “You can use mine,” I said pointing to the bathroom door in my room.

  “It’s gonna take a while, and it’s gonna be ugly,” Lyn said playfully and left.

  As soon as Lyn left, Becca came closer and put the back of her hand on my forehead. Then she bent down and kissed my forehead and her lips lingered long enough to triple my fever and turn it into a raging hot fire of desire. I put my hand behind her neck and pulled her down and kissed her neck. She pulled back and looked back at the bedroom door.