by Aria Johnson
“What are you making? Can I help?” I asked, even though I wasn’t a very good cook.
“I’m making lobster-stuffed filet mignon and all I want you to do is sit back and relax.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” I gave him a little salute and helped myself to another cocktail while he moved around the space turning down burners, measuring ingredients, and sprinkling salt and pepper over the food that sizzled on top of the stove.
I was flooded with waves of awe and happiness as I watched him hard at work, preparing a meal for us. If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would be sailing on a beautiful boat and being pampered in this manner, I wouldn’t have believed it could be even remotely possible.
While we were eating, I told Jeff all about my dreadful marriage, Howard’s disdain for our son, and how it had affected Brandon. Jeff frowned and uttered in disgust that Howard was a heartless bastard. I divulged how I’d spoiled Brandon, ruined him actually, in an attempt to compensate for his father’s lack of love.
“You did the best you could,” he said consolingly.
By the time I finished pouring out my heart, I felt lighter. Like a Catholic must feel after confessing to a priest. Maybe it was the rum in the Piña Coladas that had loosened me up, but I told myself it was Jeff—the way he put me at ease.
After we’d loaded the dishwasher, I found myself taking Jeff by the hand and leading him to the cabin that had been designated as mine. I’d never been an aggressive woman, yet I found myself advancing toward the bed.
Then Jeff took the lead, kissing me tenderly as he undressed me, and then growing more passionate, fisting my hair in his hands. My body was burning up, heat scorching me from the inside out. He guided me down to a supine position and I watched shamelessly as he tore off his clothes, my eyes taking in his beautiful body as if trying to commit to memory every rippling muscle.
His hands roamed over my buttocks and then moved upward and around to my breasts, squeezing them gently, his hot fingers nearly searing my flesh.
His mouth caressed my ear. “I want you, Claire,” he whispered as he touched me in secret places, filling me with an ache that twisted in my belly like a claw and pulsating within my very core. I sighed long and loud as his tongue lashed against my breasts, causing my body temperature to climb even higher. I could feel my nipples tightening beneath the warm wet slide of his tongue, while at the same time, his thumb brushed against the firm bud between my thighs.
My body shook and I cried out his name in a desperate plea for him to end the aching torture. Accommodating my desire, Jeff mounted me. Clinging to him, I whimpered in gratitude as I arched my back and spread my legs in invitation.
Chapter 9
Setting up for the department’s Monday morning staff meeting, Veronica had laid out an array of bagels, donuts, cookies, and steaming coffee on the sideboard. On the table next to it were folders, Sharpies, and stacks of printed materials.
“Good morning, Veronica,” I greeted breezily when I arrived.
Veronica did a double-take. “Well, look at you! Your tan is beautiful. What did you do—spend the entire weekend lying on the beach reading romance novels?”
“That would have been nice,” I replied. “Actually, I spent most of the weekend in my backyard, spray-painting a chair I picked up at a thrift store.”
Veronica raised a brow. “You spray-painted fabric?”
“It’s a new trend. The modern way of reupholstering. I found the instructions on a YouTube video.”
A look of annoyance crossed Veronica’s face. “Well, I wouldn’t know anything about YouTube, MyTube, HisTube or anything else connected with that blasted Internet. Watching cable TV with a remote in my hand is trendy enough for me.”
Veronica was the only employee in my department—in the entire company for that matter—that wasn’t computer literate, which was one of the reasons upper management had tried to get rid of her. She was a dinosaur who insisted on doing all of her paperwork by hand, leaving the task of inputting her information into the system to either me or one of the members of my staff. It was a pain, but nevertheless, she was an invaluable employee.
Although I considered her a friend, I wasn’t ready to tell her about my newfound romantic interest. I could hardly believe it myself and I didn’t want to jinx the relationship by putting labels on it too soon. Until I was confident that Jeff and I were exclusive, it would be my little secret.
Veronica glanced at me skeptically. “Are you sure all you did was spray-paint a chair?”
“Positive. Why do you ask?”
“You have a glow about you, and you seem a lot happier than you’ve been in quite a while. Even though your new hobby sounds a little bonkers, I’m glad you found something that takes your focus off that troubled boy of yours. Speaking of Brandon, how’s he doing?”
I shrugged. “He’s pretty much the same . . .as far as his temperament.”
She gazed at me over her reading glasses. “So you still haven’t laid down the law with him, have you?”
I swallowed. My first reaction was to become defensive, but I reminded myself that Brandon was on his own path and I was on mine. “Oh, there is some good news about Brandon. He has a lead on a job, so my fingers are crossed that it’ll work out for him,” I said brightly. “But even if it doesn’t, I give him credit for at least making an effort to look for employment.”
Unimpressed, Veronica snorted and mumbled something indistinct. From her attitude, I could tell she thought I was still coddling him. She had no idea that Brandon had moved out and I didn’t intend to tell her. Sharing the intimate details of his new life would encourage her to make a judgmental comment, and she’d be particularly harsh and critical if she were aware of the disturbing love triangle that Brandon was involved in.
Staff began trickling in and heading straight for the high-carb, sugary spread. As they congregated around the sideboard, slathering cream cheese and butter on bagels, Veronica nudged me.
“By the way, that new volunteer, Walter, is a pretty decent fellow.”
“Does that mean he’s following your rules and regulations to the letter?” I teased, knowing how bossy Veronica could be.
“Oh, he tried to take over at first. Can you believe he tried to show me the proper way to repot a philodendron? But after I gave him an extended sidelong glance, he had sense enough to back off.”
I laughed, imagining the look Veronica had given him.
“He’s a widower,” she said in a confidential tone.
“Oh?”
“The wife died a year ago, right after he’d retired. They lived in a fancy apartment in the city, but after she passed, he found himself yearning for the feeling of grass beneath his feet and being surrounded by nature. He’d always been good with houseplants, but was ready to take up gardening, so he moved to our beautiful little town.”
I wanted to tell her that Jeff had also recently moved here, but I stopped myself. If Veronica had any idea that Jeff and I were dating, she’d bug me every day with intrusive questions about our relationship. My instincts told me to stay mum on the subject.
“You won’t believe how I spent Saturday,” she said, her face flushing slightly.
I held out my hands. “Bouldering?” We both laughed. Mentioning a sport that Jeff enjoyed was as close as I was willing to get on the topic of my handsome lover.
And what a lover he was. Recalling the way his hands had gone from soft caresses to squeezing me passionately made me feel woozy.
“You’ll never guess, so I might as well tell you,” Veronica said, cutting into my erotic thoughts. “On Saturday I did some bird watching with Walter.”
“Bird watching?” I repeated, making a face. “You went bird watching with the volunteer?”
“There’s nothing in the company handbook that says you can’t strike up a friendship outside of work with a volunteer,” she responded.
“I know. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” And I was also a little dishearten
ed. I couldn’t get rid of Walter as I’d planned now that he and Veronica had struck up a friendship. I wondered if he’d subjected her to his continuous winking and tongue-clicking or if that was something he reserved for younger women.
“As boring as bird watching may sound, it was a lot of fun. It may not have been as much fun without Walter, but I had a surprisingly good time. By the way, I invited Walter to join us at salsa class. You don’t mind, do you?”
I minded very much, but said, “No, not at all.” Seeing Walter on the job twice a week and then again at salsa class was too much of Winking Walter for me. I hadn’t mentioned it to Veronica, but I’d already planned on quitting my salsa instructions. I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of bumping into Jeff at the center. After our romantic date on Saturday, we’d spent Sunday talking on the phone off and on, and texting throughout the day. I was quickly becoming attached to him and had no idea how I’d handle it emotionally if I saw him conversing with another woman at the community center.
Sleeping with him took things to another level, and I’d probably become jealous and suspicious if I caught him even looking at another woman.
Furthermore, I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of interacting with his daughter, Allegra, during salsa class. Though I would never divulge my impressions of his daughter to Jeff, I found her to be an unlikable young lady—extremely haughty and vain.
And with Brandon’s mumbled way of speaking and hostile attitude, it wasn’t likely that Jeff would be a fan of his, either. I figured it was best if we left our unpleasant offspring out of the equation for as long as possible. When and if the time came when Brandon’s and Allegra’s inclusion in our lives was unavoidable, then Jeff and I would endure their insufferable behavior together. Hopefully, when that day came, Brandon would have come to his senses and gotten rid of Ava. He was difficult enough to contend with on his own, but if he brought along trashy Ava and possibly her other lover, Muffy, as well . . .it would be simply too much to unleash upon polite company.
I called the meeting to order and the staffers, comprised of five women and two men, reluctantly tore themselves away from the pastries and took seats at the conference table. The rickety and nicked conference table was a hand-me-down from another department at the zoo whose budget included more upscale office furniture.
The meeting had just gotten underway when I mentioned that I needed to assign someone to the position of recycling coordinator of Zoo-Doo. Zoo-Doo was the cutesy name that had been given to the zoo’s compost project. Until now, Meghan had overseen the project, but with her recent promotion came new responsibilities.
At the mere mention of Zoo-Doo, everyone at the table suddenly cast their glances downward. Some became interested in their fingernails, others fiddled with coffee stirrers, and Dwight Evans, usually a loudmouth at meetings, became uncharacteristically quiet and focused his attention on straightening out a paper clip.
No one would make eye contact with me and I understood their discomfort.
Our zoo created nearly one million pounds of compost each year and saved $50,000 per year in disposable costs, yet my department didn’t have a decent conference table.
The one hundred percent recycled product was an exotic blend of animal manures mixed with straw, grass, leaves and wood chips from the grounds of the zoo.
Although zoo officials, environmentalists, and Go-green fanatics were proud of Zoo-Doo, my staffers loathed having to steer a wheelbarrow filled with excrement that was collected from giraffe, hippos, gazelles, and zebras, among other non-primate herbivore animals.
Veronica winced and rubbed her left hip. “My doctor still has me on light duty. Pushing around that blasted wheel barrel would aggravate my condition.”
“Why don’t we rotate on a monthly basis,” I suggested. “Dwight, you can start it off.”
Dwight dropped the unfurled paper clip. As if he’d been shot in the chest, he fell against the back of his chair. He was so obnoxious and dramatic.
“How am I supposed to deal with my regular responsibilities and go around collecting shit twice a day,” Dwight complained.
My phone suddenly vibrated, rattling loudly against the wooden table. I peeked at the screen and was surprised to see that the call was from Brandon.
“I have to take this,” I said, making an apologetic face. Since it wasn’t the norm for Brandon to be up before noon, I assumed there was an emergency. I stood up abruptly. “I’ll only be a second,” I said as I moved hastily toward the door.
In the privacy of the corridor, I whispered frantically, “What’s wrong, Brandon?”
“Nothing. Everything’s great. I wanted to let you know that I interviewed for that factory job in Secane . . .and they hired me. I start tomorrow morning.” I could hear a smile in his voice.
“That’s fantastic, Brandon. I’m so proud of you,” I said with a huge grin blossoming on my face.
“Thanks. Yo, Mom, I need a favor. I need to borrow some money. I’m on a different shift than Muffy, and I’m going to need money for the bus and other incidentals. They want me to wear non-skid black shoes and jeans aren’t allowed. You have to wear black khakis.”
“I can drop off some money after work today. Do you want me to stop by Ava’s place or would you rather meet me somewhere?”
“You can drop it off here.” He gave me the address and then advised me to honk the horn when I arrived.
“How much do you need?”
“For the work clothes and bus fare until I get paid, I’d say, I need at least a hundred bucks.”
“Okay, I’ll stop at the ATM on my way. Congrats, hon. I’ll see you this evening.”
I returned to the meeting so elated over Brandon’s news, one would have thought I’d been told he’d been accepted into Yale or Harvard. At twenty years old, my son was gainfully employed for the first time in his life.
But there was something else that warmed my heart. Brandon didn’t sound troubled and he wasn’t brooding. His tone was jubilant. My son actually sounded happy—an extremely rare emotion for him.
Maybe Ava wasn’t such a bad influence after all. I made a mental note to be more cordial toward her from now on. Their arrangement was unconventional to say the least, but who was I to judge? Following the norms of society didn’t ensure a lower divorce rate or well-adjusted children.
Back at the conference table, I was determined to maintain an air of quiet control though I was bursting with excitement. Although the discussion over Zoo-Doo had become heated, I didn’t get involved. I was busy imagining Brandon getting promotions at his new job and advancing from a laborer to an executive of the company. If he applied himself and went back to school part time, it was entirely possible.
“In order to end all this bickering, I’ll take on the responsibility of being the coordinator,” Veronica offered, sounding like a martyr. “Is that okay with you, Claire?”
Hearing my name brought me out of my reverie.
Before I could collect my thoughts and respond, Dwight blurted, “What about your bad hip?” Then he leaned back and smirked at Veronica.
“As coordinator, I won’t have to do any physical labor,” she explained with a sly smile. “I’ll create the schedule with the names of the staff that will actually scoop up the animal poop and the leaves, and everything. I’ll list the dates that they’re required to be on Zoo-Poo patrol.” She gave a little laugh, but no one joined in.
“Make sure you don’t put my name on the schedule,” Meghan reminded her, pursing her lips with an air of self-importance.
“We’re all well aware that you’re moving up the ladder. Hopefully, you’re not gunning for Claire’s job,” Veronica shot back, believing that her advanced age gave her the right to say anything that popped in her head.
Meghan’s face flushed. “Why would you accuse me of that?”
“I’ve seen you hobnobbing with the big bosses, and I’m only checking,” Veronica said, staring at Meghan over her glasses.
It hadn�
��t occurred to me that Meghan wanted my job; she was much too young and inexperienced, but I’d have my guard up from now on. Perhaps it would behoove me to get a little chummy with the suit-wearing executives that ran the place behind the scenes.
Veronica cleared her throat. “So . . .I’ll maintain the schedule and make sure the rotation flows smoothly.” She glanced at me. “With Claire’s permission, of course.”
I smiled approvingly. “You have my permission.”
Veronica had finally snagged a position of authority and I had no doubt she’d get the job done.
Chapter 10
My whirlwind affair with Jeff had been going on since the beginning of summer and by mid-August, we’d become inseparable. We sailed every weekend and his boat had become a second home to me. And we didn’t limit our fun to the weekends only. During the week after work, we played miniature golf, attended jazz concerts and gallery openings, and I cheered Jeff on when he competed in trivia night contests at a local pub.
Although he was a newcomer to the East Coast, Jeff had made an astonishing amount of friends not only in the city where he conducted most of his business, but also in our small town. He was on a first-name basis with far more people in Middletown than me, and I’d been a resident for over twenty years.
It was almost magical the way I’d gone from a homebody to a social butterfly, and it was all Jeff’s doing. Being out on the town with him, my arm looped inside his, gave me such a sense of pride and an overall feeling of well-being. I now realized that before him, I’d merely been existing—getting through each day as best I could. And now I was enjoying life to the fullest. Once a solemn introvert, I had morphed into a happy, outgoing person who smiled often and struck up conversations with strangers.
Though Jeff and I had never brought up the L-word nor had we bothered to identify exactly what we were doing, I’d never experienced such a feeling of wholeness. Had never imagined such blissful happiness even existed.
It was as if all the stars had aligned perfectly. Brandon was in a good place in his own life, and his stability and peace of mind allowed me to enjoy my new, romantic adventures—guilt free.