The End of Summer

by Alex M. Smith

  “It’s ok. I’m fine, really,” she said with a broken voice.

  “Wanna talk to Lyn? I think she can talk now,” I asked her, trying to change the subject.

  “Yeah, yeah, if she can, don’t pressure her,” she urged me.

  “Hang on a sec,” I said and put my hand on the speaker, went to Lyn and said, “Mom wants to talk to you.”

  She nodded and said, “Give me a minute,” and went to the bathroom to wash her face.

  “She’s coming,” I said to Becca, “Please try to convince her to eat something,” I added.

  Lyn took the phone and went back to her room. She talked to her mom for more than half an hour. I could hear her cry and stop and cry again before she emerged back and handed me the phone. It was soaked with tears. She was about to dry it with her dress. I took the hand that held the phone and said, “Don’t ruin a beautiful Marilyn dress.” She came in and hugged me and put her head on my chest. I looked at Joe and signaled to him to come closer. Then I slipped a couple of feet away and I said, “I’m gonna go get us something to eat.”

  “We can order in,” Lyn said.

  “It will be faster if I go. Besides I could use the walk,” I answered and looked at Joe and said, “Joe.”

  He followed me to the door, “Try to talk to her. I will go away for half an hour,” I said and left.

  On my way down the stairs, I looked up the number for Lyn’s favorite Chinese restaurant and placed an order. I sat down on the third step outside, waiting for the food to be delivered. I didn’t want to take a walk; all I wanted was to sit alone for some time. I wanted to listen to my thoughts without interruptions, without an audience. I sat on the same step that Becca sat on when I first saw her a few days ago. Yesterday she was radiant with joy, and today she was engulfed with sadness.

  “Richard, hi,” a girl’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “Caroline, hey,” I said with a fake enthusiasm.

  “You never called. You owe me a real date, remember?” she said and put her hand on my knee.

  “Do you remember anything about that night, anything at all?” I asked her.

  “You stripped me down to my underwear and you left,” she said.

  “I removed the clothes you puked on and put you to bed,” I said and saw the delivery boy coming closer. I stood up and walked towards him, completely ignoring Caroline, paid the guy, and came back. Caroline was upset and showed it to me by folding her arms and stomping her foot like a pouting child. I looked at her before opening the main door and said, “By the way, your ex fights like a girl. I hope he’s better in bed,” and went inside.

  Glass House

  “A Kippah, it’s called a Kippah,” Joe whispered in my ear.

  “I have to put it on too, but I’m not Jewish?” I replied.

  “All men have to put it on, you’re a man aren’t you? Put it on,” Joe ordered me.

  I complied, and the rest of the funeral was uneventful, except for a woman in her mid-forties who cried noticeably nonstop throughout the service. Becca was quiet, taking good care of Lyn and making sure to make everything went as smooth as possible. I kept my distance but made my presence felt all the time. Becca smiled to me every time our eyes met.

  I left Joe to take care of Lyn and Becca to take care of everyone else and went back to the hotel. On the way there, I drove around New Canaan, a beautiful town with very “liberal” shaped houses. I came on a school field trip when I was in ninth grade to see “Glass House”, a see-through home built in the late forties by Philip Johnson. It inspired so many contemporary architects to build similar projects in and around New Canaan. When I saw that house for the first time, I instantly remembered a proverb my grandma used to tell me, “He who lives in a glass house shouldn’t throw stones.” I guess it takes a great deal of courage rendering yourself vulnerable to everybody’s prying eyes, while everybody else is hiding behind brick walls.

  I took a shower and ordered some food in. I don’t remember when I dozed off, but at around five, I woke up. Outside the blue sky was replaced by a buildup of dark clouds, a sign that a storm was sweeping in. I thought of leaving the city. I would not have the chance to see Becca much, and it would be awkward every time we looked in each other’s eyes, and everyone would start noticing the attraction.

  An hour later, I checked out and headed towards my car. It was getting darker and you never know when it will start raining, so I gave Becca a call before heading down to the city. “Can you talk?” I asked her.

  “Yes, I waited all day to hear your voice. I missed you,” she whispered.

  “I missed you too. How are you doing now?” I asked her, my heart aching to be with her.

  “Lyn and Joe are here keeping me company, told them to sleep here for the night,” she said and then asked me, “Where are you?”

  “I’m heading down to the city,” I said, feeling guilty to abandon her in such time.

  “Oh, don’t go, I want to see you,” she said, almost pleading.

  My heart sank and I asked, “Can you get out? I don’t want anyone around us.”

  “Pick me up in half an hour. I’ll text you the directions. Love you,” she said.

  “Love you too, sweetheart,” I replied, so anxious to meet her, to touch her hand and kiss her lips and look into her blue eyes.

  Twenty minutes later, I arrived at Becca’s house and immediately texted her. The house was a big version of the glass house but set higher above the ground with more use of concrete. It looked massive once I parked close to it. It was getting darker, and the garden lights were already on. A British Racing Green Range Rover was parked in the driveway, next to it was a black Chevy Volt, and a few feet further was Joe’s BMW.

  Then she came walking slowly towards me, smiling, making my heart jump with joy. She was wearing a knee-length black and white dress and black shoes. She opened the door, looked at me and smiled more as I watched her tired look relax, “Lyn is watching. Don’t kiss me now,” she said softly.

  I drove down to the intersection, and Becca signaled to me to go right. It was a country road with no streetlights. A couple of minutes later, she moved towards me, put her head on my chest, and started crying softly. I put my hand around her and caressed her softly and kissed her forehead. Neither of us said a word; everything was unspoken but clearly understood. Her calm at the funeral and her emotional reserve had all succumbed to a full emotional breakdown.

  “Shall I put the top up?” I asked her.

  “No, I need the fresh air,” she said softly, took a look at the road ahead and added, “Take the first right and then up the hill.”

  It was already dark, and the road reached the top of a hill and disappeared into the woods as a dirt road. Becca touched my hand and squeezed it. It was my signal to stop. We sat there for a while, listening to the silent sounds of our thoughts. The breeze was getting stronger and cooler. I broke the silence and said, “Do you feel cold? I have a jacket in the back.”

  “Just a little. I like it like that,” she replied as she lifted her head and softly kissed my lips. I responded and nibbled on her sweet lips, and my hands rubbed her arms and shoulders. “I missed you so much,” she said.

  “I missed you too baby,” I replied. I wanted to talk about everything, about us and about Miles, but it was hard for me to begin.

  Becca took out a cigarette pack from her bag and a lighter and told me, “I need a cigarette. Join me.”

  We both stood in front of the car. Becca sat on the hood at first, then suddenly stood up and said, “Oops, it’s hot.” I came closer and put my arms around her and held her in my arms in front of me. From the first puff, Becca started to talk. Nicotine was like a truth serum for her.

  “It felt so weird, yesterday and today,” she stopped for a second. She took a puff and continued, “Miles didn’t die yesterday, you know. Today was just his funeral.” I tightened my arms around her as she said, “Miles died the moment I told him that I was pregnant with Lyn, I messed up
all his plans. He had just finished his MBA and became the second man in his company after his dad.”

  A teardrop landed on my hand, Becca stopped talking for a second, and tears ran down her cheeks. I kissed them away, and she took a deep breath and continued. “He came to the city to have a good time, met a naïve college girl knocked her up and got stuck.”

  “So you never loved him?” I asked her.

  “When I first met him, I did, but after I knew that he married me just because his family made him do it, I stopped.” She took a puff and asked me, “Did you meet Abbey? Abigail Hoffman?”

  “I don’t think I did,” I answered her.

  “She’s his high school sweetheart. Bitch!” She said.

  “Is she that woman who was crying loudly at the funeral?” I asked.

  “Yea, that’s the one,” Becca confirmed. “She was his personal assistant too. He couldn’t live without her, so he gave her a position to keep her close to him. Eighteen years, can you imagine that?”

  “Was he…” I started to ask when she interrupted me.

  “Fucking her? Sure he was,” she said with anger and sorrow. I held her even tighter and kissed her neck, I felt her knees getting weaker and I could feel her body relax, as her breathing slowed in rhythm with mine.

  I was getting aroused myself, with her body against mine. Then I asked her, “Why didn’t you just leave him?”

  “It’s not that simple. I wanted what was best for my daughter. Marilyn is my whole life.” She took the last drag of her cigarette and got rid of it. She turned to me, put her hands on my chest and asked me, “Will you be mine?”

  “I am yours,” I said.

  “Me, only me, no one else,” she said. “Promise me,” she urged me.

  “From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you to be mine, I promise that I will be yours, only yours,” I said passionately.

  “I was planning on leaving him, you know,” she said, and took a long breath and continued, “But he managed to ruin even that and left me first.”

  “When where you gonna tell him that?” I asked.

  “He was going to meet me in New York on the eve of our twentieth anniversary. I was going to give him a gift of being free from me, a gift he was long due” She said with a very sad voice.

  “Was it the package you bought from David’s?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it was a record by Miles Davis, ironically called, Miles Fly Away, and that’s exactly what he did,” she said.

  I kissed her neck and held her tighter, “It’s gonna be alright.”

  Becca turned to face me, leaned, her body against mine, and said, “Would you kiss a smoker?” She asked me with a change in tone.

  Before she could finish her sentence, my lips were all over hers. The taste of tobacco mixed with her sweet breath aroused me even more. I held her close to me, feeling her warmth against the cool night breeze. My hands ran down her firm buttocks and her thighs, finding the edge of her dress. She lifted her leg around my thighs pulling me closer, her crotch touching mine, feeling my hardness. My hands caressed her bare thighs, going up, reaching her thong. She sighed as I ran my finger around the edge of her panties, easing the elastic over the curve of her behind. My hands firmly grasped each cheek of her delicious ass and pulled her against my growing erection. My fingers wandered down, and she moaned as my fingers touched the warm wetness of her pussy from behind. She lowers her leg, her panties dropped to the ground.

  We moved towards the passenger side door, I opened it and her hand reached down and unbuttoned my pants. My cock swelled against the fabric of my boxer shorts. She grabbed both my pants and boxers and pulled them down at once. She pushed me on the car seat and sat on my lap. Our interlocked lips now furiously devoured each other, and her wet pussy was rubbing against my hard cock, lubricating it, making it ready to invade her. She moved her hips and my hard cock slides into her burning pussy, and with one synchronized move with nature, lightning struck, thunder cracked and rain began to fall.

  Making love in the rain was epic, with Becca’s hair drenched and clinging to her neck. Our clothes were soaked as we steamed ahead in unison. Her hips pumped up and down my shaft, as my hands gripped her hips, our moans growing louder with every thrust. We lost ourselves as the storm around us fueled our desire. Every clap of thunder and flash of lightning seemed to energize and intensify our passion. Waves of ecstasy raged through our bodies as the thunder rolled. She arched herself, driving my cock deeper, and let out a screaming moan. Her fingernails dug into my chest, and her pussy throbbed around my cock as her orgasm landed with the intensity of the storm. I let myself explode inside her with a thunderous moan, mimicking the thunder as the clouds burst above us. Breathless, we collapse into each other and stayed there soaking in the rain.

  We struggled a little with the convertible top. It was a simple, old fashioned ragtop and hard to manage in the rain. As soon as we settled into the seats, we realized how soaked our clothes and the car’s interior has gotten. We laughed all the way back to her house. The roads were very slippery, since it was the first rain after almost three weeks of drought, but I carefully maneuvered along the dark roads, carrying my most precious cargo, my beloved Becca.

  As we pulled into the driveway, Becca took her panties and put them in my glove box and winked at me. “Something to put under your pillow,” she said with a sweet devilish grin. I came closer and kissed her lips. Her hair was still wet, and her face looked tired but still radiant with happiness.

  “I love you,” I whispered softly.

  “Love you too,” she replied and opened the door.

  I rushed to her side of the car to help her out. I shielded her from the rain with my jacket as she got out, and we ran together for the nearby shelter at the entrance. We kissed again and hugged and said our goodbyes.

  “I’ll come to New York next week. I will stay with Lyn for a while,” she promised.

  “I want to see you every day,” I said, then added with a smile, “I will move in with Lyn too.”

  She giggled, kissed my lips, and ran up the stairs. I waited for her to disappear inside the house, and I walked slowly towards my car. I drove out towards the city, still dazed by the amazing lovemaking and the heavy rain that was pouring down nonstop.

  Geometry of Chance

  “Calm down and tell me what happened,” I said firmly into the phone.

  “Lyn just left with Joe! She is so upset!” Becca cried.

  “Tell me what happened. I’ll pull over,” I shouted as the rain suddenly increased and I could barely hear Becca’s voice over the noise of the rain pounding on the ragtop.

  “Lyn knows about us, Richard. I told her everything,” Becca confessed.

  “What do you mean everything? Why did you do that?” I raised my voice and immediately felt guilty for doing so, but I wasn’t expecting this and was definitely not prepared to handle it.

  “She saw us kissing when you dropped me off, and she was so upset. I couldn’t lie to her. She shouted and cried and she doesn’t want to see me anymore,” Becca explained quietly. She sounded so fragile and small. Hearing the pain in her voice tore my heart.

  “Calm down darling. We will fix this,” I said, trying to soothe her. “Listen, I’m only twenty minutes away. I will turn around and come back,” I said as I quickly made a U-turn, barely missing a car that was coming the other way. Then I reassured Becca, “I guess they’re on their way to New York. We will both go down there tomorrow and set things straight,”

  “I hope so, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Becca desperately said.

  “Honey, everything will be alright, I promise. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes,” I assured her.

  “Drive safely please, Ok?” She said.

  “I will, sweetheart,” I replied softly.

  It was a huge, end of summer storm. It was raining nonstop for over an hour. I hurried to be with Becca, fighting to maintain control of the car on the slippery road. Visibility was extremely poo
r. I was barely able to see through the sheer volume of rain, and the vintage-style windshield wipers were not helping either. “Why didn’t I just bring a rental?” I thought. It was too late for that now, obviously.

  I reached Becca’s house to find her in the driveway getting into the Range Rover. I ran out of my car and went straight to her. She was holding the steering wheel with tears running silently down her cheeks. I opened the door and touched her hand softly.

  “Becca, sweetheart, where are you going,” I said calmly.

  “I have to go to the hospital. Joe and Lyn had an accident,” she said in a very calm voice.

  “When did that happen? Are they ok?” I worriedly asked.

  “I spoke to Joe. They are taking them to St. Vincent. We have to go there,” she said and tried to start the Range Rover, but instead she started crying again and crushed into the steering wheel. “I can’t, I really can’t,” she said with her voice quivering.

  “Come, we’ll take my car,” I said, helping her out. I could feel her body tremble as I held onto her tightly.

  We headed to the hospital. Becca sank in the front seat, not a word coming out of her mouth. Her tears subsided, followed with a deafening silence, interrupted by sad sighs. I tried to say something other than, “Everything is gonna be alright,” but my mind had gone blank and I couldn’t say anything. I felt sorry for her after living an empty, meaningless marriage with a deceiving husband, sacrificing her life for her daughter, and now she was afraid to lose her.

  “Becca, honey, we are here,” I said, gently touching her hand. “I’ll park the car and join you in a minute. You go inside, sweetheart,” I added.

  “Ok,” she said softly.

  A couple of minutes later, I was inside the hospital. A police officer was talking to the receptionist. I approached the counter when I heard my name. I turned and saw Joe sitting down with a bandaged knee and a small cut on his forehead.

  “Joe, man, what the fuck happened?” I came close and asked him.