Power

by Jillian Dodd

  I walk down the steps and into the pool, the water the perfect soothing temperature.

  She takes her clothes off and joins me in the center.

  “I don't like being told what to do,” she says softly.

  “I know you don't, but sometimes you need it.” I give her a long, sweet kiss. Then I hold her shoulders, keeping her away from me. “You're naked,” I state.

  “Yeah, I am,” she flirts.

  “That means right here, in this pool, it's just us. Naked.”

  “You've said the word naked like four times. I get it. We’re naked.”

  “We are physically, but I want you naked emotionally.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me what happened. Why opening that playroom door hurt so bad. And why do you have a room like that?”

  She takes a breath and slumps her shoulders, her body defeated.

  I touch her face. “Tell me.”

  “I was pregnant. Almost four months along. I was happy. Bam was happy. We’d told everyone we knew. He wanted to start decorating the nursery, but I was afraid to. I’d had two other miscarriages. But they happened during the first trimester and once I got past that point, and got to see an ultrasound, I really got excited. I still was afraid to decorate the nursery, so I decided to do a playroom instead. I told myself when our friends with children visited, they would have a place to play. But, really, I was doing it for our future children. I bought all the stuff in the playroom. A few weeks later, I let myself start dreaming and thinking of names.”

  She starts tapping her foot.

  I can tell this is the hard part.

  “I started, um, losing the baby. Bam was out, supposedly at a business meeting. I called him when I was going to the hospital. He showed up about four hours later, after it was over, and I took one look at him and knew that he'd been cheating on me. There had been signs before, but he always reassured me. He said that I was silly and he loved me. Things would be amazing for a while. He could be amazing and attentive. He made me feel like a real life princess. Jewels the size of rocks, planes, yachts, traveling around the world, box seats, champagne. Whatever his heart desired. When you're little, you hear fairytales about princes and happily ever afters, but what you don't hear is that the prince is a spoiled brat who throws jewels and furs at you because he feels guilty for screwing around.”

  She keeps going, barely taking a breath. It’s just rolling out of her.

  “He admitted it that night. Said he loved me but that he's not a one-woman man. He tried to get me to understand that it should be okay. That the girls he did—and apparently there were many—meant nothing to him. That he loved me. I told him to get out. That I never wanted to see him again. The next day, as soon as I was released from the hospital, I filed divorce papers. I was on a mission. It drove me through the grief of losing the baby and the marriage.”

  I run my hands across her shoulders. My heart breaking for her.

  “I shut my emotions off. Never cried. Never opened that door to the playroom . . .” She's been lost in her story, but she stops and looks into my eyes. “I haven't opened the playroom door since that day. Until tonight. It was so . . . freeing.”

  “I love you, Vanessa,” I tell her. “And I swear I will never, ever cheat on you.”

  “I know you won’t,” she says. “In the office the other day, I almost told you I loved you. I wasn’t even thinking, it just came out. But I stopped myself because it seemed too soon.”

  “Vanessa, it’s never too soon to tell someone how you feel.”

  “When you rightly wanted to spend time alone with your girls, it hurt me. More than it should have. And I felt stupid for letting you into my heart. I’ve been trying so hard to protect it.”

  I run my hands down the sides of her arms then entwine my hands with hers.

  “We both have painful pasts. That’s what this is about, letting go and opening up your heart to me. Telling me what you want. What you need.”

  “I want you to know what I need. I don’t want to have to tell you,” she says.

  I pick her up and move us closer to the side of the pool, kissing her the whole time.

  Her eyes fill up with tears again.

  “Don’t cry, baby. No more crying.” I slowly kiss her wet cheeks, then her neck, then her lips. Taking my time. Showing her that with each kiss I want nothing more than to do just that.

  But then she wraps her legs around my waist and deepens our kiss, her tongue tantalizing me, her curves flattened against me, her voice whispering my name.

  “Dawson,” she says.

  And with one word, I know what she needs. It’s the same thing I suddenly need. To be inside her.

  I move my hands under her ass, lifting her toward me and causing her back to press against the side of the pool, as I pull her on top of me.

  She leans her head back exposing her neck, so I take the opportunity to slide my tongue up its length, then rest my lips against hers.

  Our lips are touching but not moving.

  We’re both perfectly still except for a gentle, occasional thrust of my hips.

  I feel like I should come clean. Tell her the rest of my story. But it’s not the right time. Not when she’s clinging to me. Not when I finally feel the way I should feel.

  Like I’m finally home.

  Like I’m exactly where I belong.

  She moves her lips against mine, kissing me slowly, then deepening the kiss while she grabs ahold of my ass.

  I move faster, kissing her in time with my thrusts.

  Until I can’t kiss her any more.

  She puts her lips on my shoulder, biting down slightly as she sighs with pleasure, and I feel my own release.

  Then we’re still again for a moment.

  I bring my mouth to her ear and whisper to her. “You need me to take care of you and love you forever.”

  “That’s exactly what I need,” she replies, as I pick her up, carry her out of the pool and through the patio doors to her master bedroom.

  I’m going to make love to her.

  Slowly. Sweetly.

  All night long.

  Eastbrooke Academy - Connecticut

  ARIELA

  I suppose it’s sort of fitting that as I pull through Eastbrooke’s gates my dad calls me.

  “Hi, Dad,” I say into my phone.

  “Ariela! Collin just told me what you’re planning to do. I won’t stand for it. You need to come home now and make this right. I can’t even believe you would threaten both our livelihoods.”

  “I threatened Collin, Dad, because he threatened me. Not only does he cheat on me, but he tries to control me. I used to let him, but I’m not anymore. That goes for you too. And there’s nothing either one of you can do about it.”

  “I’ll side with Collin. Run your name through the mud. Disown you. You’ll come out of your marriage with nothing.”

  “I don’t care, Dad. I don’t want anything from either one of you. I just want a divorce.”

  “Collin will be contesting the divorce, Ariela. If freedom is what you want, know it’s the one thing you will never get.”

  “The hell you will,” I hear my mother say loudly. “You will not take Collin’s side on this.”

  I about drop the phone. I’ve never heard my mother raise her voice to my father.

  “What the hell do you know?” my dad says to her. “It’s not like you can do anything about it.”

  “Actually, I can. Ariela, dear, I’m putting you on speaker. I want you to hear this.”

  “Uh, okay . . .”

  “I know you are probably too busy chasing skirts to pay much attention to the business,” Mom says to my dad. “Luckily, I have been. And here’s what I know. For years, your accountant has been signing portions of the business over to me for tax purposes.”

  “I’m fully aware of that,” my dad says flatly. “Don’t pretend like you know anything about my business.”

  “Oh, but I do. Because ju
st last month, you signed over more.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “I now own fifty-four percent.”

  “So?”

  “So?” I hear papers slap his desk. “I’m divorcing you.”

  “You what? We have an agreement.”

  “Yes, but it’s just a verbal one. I’m afraid those things don’t stand up in court. I lied to you, darling. I’ve been lying through my teeth and looking the other way until I had control of your company. Just like you’ve lied to me about all the other women. Today is a happy day. Now, I need to get going soon. Going to meet a friend for a celebratory glass of champagne, but here’s the deal. As long as neither you nor Collin contest your divorces then I won’t fire either one of you. If you do, poof, you’re gone. And Ariela, dear, I’ve heard that a lot of mothers and daughters are getting matching tattoos these days. I think we should get one after we get our matching divorces. And if you need anything, money, to talk, please call me.”

  “You can’t do that!” my dad says angrily. I hear his chair push across the floor. “I’ll fucking kill you first.”

  “Oh, dear. You shouldn’t have said that. The police are waiting outside to escort you out of my house.”

  “Your house? This is our house.”

  “I’m afraid not. I also found out recently that the house has been in my name for the last seventeen years. You transferred it to me when the market tanked and you were worried you might lose your business. Apparently, you never bothered to transfer it back. You can pack up a few things while the nice policeman watches and then you will be escorted out. Have a nice life.”

  I hear a door slam and deep voice say, “Sir, you need to do as she asks.”

  Then click.

  “Holy shit,” I say to myself as I park.

  My phone rings, this time it’s my mom’s cell phone.

  “Mom! Holy hell! I can’t believe you just did that. I’m so proud of you!”

  “It’s been a long time coming, Ariela. And I’m proud of me too. Where are you?”

  “Believe it or not, I’m at Eastbrooke. It’s Homecoming weekend.”

  “Are you there with Riley?”

  “No. It’s a long story, Mom.”

  “Tell me. Tell me everything that’s happened since you left.”

  So I do. All of it.

  “I think it’s smart that you’re there,” she says. “You need to put the past behind you. It’s been ten years. Even if you feel the same way about him, you’re not the same girl you used to be.”

  “I still feel like that girl when I’m with him.”

  “Good luck, Ariela. I hope you work it out. And good luck with the event next week. I’m sure it will be amazing. If you’re up for it, I’d like to visit you sometime.”

  “I’d like that too, Mom. Thanks for everything.”

  I get out of the car and walk down the sidewalk leading to the Student Center.

  It’s weird being back here.

  As I walk by Hawthorne House, Riley’s dorm, I stop to touch a big red poster board megaphone that’s covered with glitter and has the number twelve on it. Riley’s number.

  I remember how proud I was to wear his jersey before the big game. How it hung over my cheerleading skirt. How he said it was so sexy because it looked like it was all I had on.

  Part of me wants to stop remembering. The memories both make me happy and make me hurt.

  That’s what I came here for, right? To see it all again. To let myself remember all the things I’ve been trying so hard to forget.

  I wander down to the lacrosse field, knowing it’s where I would end up.

  Riley and I had come here together so many nights.

  But one night, I came here alone.

  I had just gotten back from a weekend at home.

  My dad called me into his study, which was a shrine to the school we’d both worked so hard our whole lives to get me into.

  He takes a photo off a shelf and hands it to me. “Do you remember the first time we visited?”

  I study the photo. I’m decked out in Tiger gear and waving a pompom. “It was the first college football game I had ever been to.”

  “You were nine,” my dad says. “We watched Princeton play Brown. I walked you around the campus and told you about my dream for you. Your mom and I didn’t have much money when you were young, but we always put money into your college fund. And in a few weeks, you’ll graduate Eastbrooke and then this fall you’ll be there. Part of me can’t believe it. This picture seems like it was yesterday.”

  “Um, Dad, I know you don’t want to hear it, but I want to go to USC with Riley. It’s a really good school too.”

  “Ariela, I told you before, you’re not going to California. You need to get that ridiculous notion out of your head.”

  A few months ago, I told my dad that I wanted to go to USC instead. He told me he wouldn’t pay for anywhere but Princeton. When I got back to school and told Riley about it, he was pissed to learn that I had accepted to both USC and Princeton. He yelled at me and sped off in his car. But later, he showed up at my dorm and apologized. He shocked me when he got down on one knee and said Ariela, will you marry me, go to California with me, and love me forever? I said yes and in a few weeks, I’ll be on the beach saying I do.

  My dad takes the photo out of my hand and sits down next to me. “Are you really serious about not going to Princeton?” he asks.

  “Yes, Dad. I’m sorry.”

  “Ariela, I know you think you love this boy now, but he’s not worth ruining your future for. You have your whole life ahead of you. Princeton wasn’t just my dream, it’s been your goal. How many hours have you studied to maintain your grades just so you could get into Princeton?”

  “A lot. I study a lot. But I love Riley.”

  “Riley is a boy. He can’t take care of you. And if he promises you otherwise, he’s lying to you.”

  “He has money. He said if you wouldn’t pay for my college, he would.”

  “And what happens when you break up?”

  “We’re not going to break up.”

  My dad stares at me for a few seconds. Then he gets up and pulls a book off his shelf. “This is my high school yearbook.” He opens it and starts pointing. “This is my high school girlfriend. We dated for three years. That’s an eternity in high school relationships. We were voted most likely to get married. Best couple. We were prom king and queen. We broke up three months after graduation. Once high school was over, we had nothing in common anymore. No games or dances to go to. Our friends were off at different colleges. And our relationship died. And these two are Kelly and David, high school sweethearts who got married two weeks after graduation. They divorced a year later. And Patty and Bob. Couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Broke up a week after graduation. My point is, high school relationships are like high school. They teach you about life and love. You’re moving on to bigger and better things at Princeton. You’ll meet the man of your dreams there. You’ll go back there for Homecoming, not to Eastbrooke. Eastbrooke is just the stepping stone to the rest of your life. And so is Riley.”

  “No, he’s not, Dad! He loves me and we’re going to get married next week! I’m going to California. I’m eighteen. I’m an adult. And you can’t stop me!”

  “Getting married?” my dad says, sitting back in his chair, looking defeated. I’m sure my growing up is hard for him. I’ve always been such a Daddy’s girl.

  My dad rubs his hands down his face then looks at me and speaks in a very deep and serious tone. “You’re right, Ariela. You are an adult. And you can choose whatever you want to do. But know your choices come with consequences. If you go to California, I know exactly what will happen. I know what boys like Riley are like. They’ve had life handed to them on a silver platter. They’ve never had to work a day in their life for anything. And when he gets to California, it’s going to be full of beautiful women. Temptation. A boy like Riley is used to getting what he wants. And he’ll take an
ything offered to him. And then, when he gets sick of you or moves on to the next thing, you’ll be alone. You’ll be broke and alone. And if that happens, don’t come to me. It pains me more than anything to say this, because I’ve loved you your whole life. Your whole life, I’ve had nothing but your best interests in my heart. But if you make that choice, I’ll disown you. Because I know in my heart that California is wrong for you. That you shouldn’t give up your dream for a boy. And I’m so sure of my conviction, I’m willing to risk my relationship with my daughter, who I love more than life itself, on it. So, adult Ariela, it’s up to you. Riley or your family.”

  He takes another picture down and sets it in my lap. Tears fill his eyes. I’ve never seen my dad cry before, and I realize how deeply I’m hurting him.

  I look at the photo. I’m about four, wearing a princess costume, and I’m snuggled into my dad’s arms asleep. You can see the love written all over my dad’s face.

  I sat here and pondered my life. My relationship with Riley. My future. I knew in my heart my dad only wanted the best for me. I knew in my soul that Riley loved me.

  How do you choose between the man you’ve loved forever, your hero, your daddy, and the boy you’re madly in love with?

  I couldn’t decide.

  And it tore me apart.

  I would come down here by myself just to cry.

  And as the days to graduation ticked closer, the more sick I felt.

  I wanted to tell Riley about my dilemma, but I couldn’t bear to say the words. I couldn't admit to him that it was a difficult decision.

  Just the thought of leaving him brought me to tears. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't study.

  I’d look at my notebook, where I’d doodled Mrs. Riley Johnson across the top and start crying.

  Riley consumed me. I’d never been in love like that before. Never loved someone so much. Never felt so much happiness. And, in my inexperience, I didn't understand that a love like that isn't replaceable. That if I left him, I'd never truly be happy again. Of course, I hoped he’d read my note and understand why I had to go to Princeton. But he never got my note. And I didn’t realize it until it was too late.